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Diurnal Sodomy: part 2 of 2: post-Inferno Drew party; 'date' with Erin G. on sunday

2006-07-17 - 9:48 p.m.

...I do have a tendency to trail off, don't I?

Right, so it was last saturday and...

* * *

Last Saturday (July 10thish)

I was heavy with despair after the Inferno, that nameless heaviness that occasionally drizzles down after I start back upon the wandering path.

In my shunning the meat while I danced, I forgot my craving for human contact. And so I returned to Drew's party to see if anything still stirred. I expected after hours pot smoking, or dead silence. But there they were: whirling drunk dervishes grinding on the dance floor. The tables, countertops, side tables, and outside area were covered with empty bottles. Hundreds of dollars of booze, consumed. Hundreds of dollars of booze, still apparently waiting in the fridge; it could feed the fire of a party clear 'til wednesday.

It dawned on people gradually that: 1) "hey! You're back!" and 2) "Didn't you leave earlier?" Some playfully chided me about allegedly not telling them where I went. And some were drunk enough where it took an hour before either of points 1 or 2 sunk in.

Mike, Drew's roommate, was trashed in that moving while standing still way. Jess was in full form as her Catholic school girl persona. I'd just arrived after she'd left all but one blouse button undone. She was on the prowl in full swing. Deb, her friendly escort, tried to drunkingly convince her on the balcony outside to button up. There and then a pact was made: one tequila shot each, two buttons done up. Never did notice if she paid up.

I got a similar offer when I asked Jess to dance. She took this to mean that I was interested in pursuing her. She smiled and said I was trying to take advantage of her. She said she had a no coworker policy. I affected my higher octave "who wha me?" voice and explained that dancing was just dancing. (really, Jess ain't my type). And her deal was if I got some booze in me, dancing could be had. I decided to not mention it again.

Only other thing of note was the aussie chick and I talked a bit. Her name is 'mee-gan.' Shrug. She knows Drew through the neuroimaging facility. Somehow all the people from there have been dreadfully fucking dull or rude, the chipmunk looking one in particular. But she was drunk enough so that I commented on the gent she fancied, and how I could tell he was rather taken with her. She explained she had a long distance relationship in the UK (?) that she wanted to maintain, that she really wanted it to work out.

How many times I'd said the same thing for the same circumstances.

After that I danced some, talked some, and convinced Melissa and Christine that I'd drive them home. They both live semi-far away, and I drive Mel home most weekends anyway. They were skeptical because they each lived on opposite sides of town, but I said it was fine. Chris asked if I was ok at one point and was I sure.

Mel was pretty damn drunk so we whisked away to her place first. She kept commenting that she'd become such an alcoholic, drinking straight through most of the weekend for 6 weeks in a row. I told her I got buzzed twice a week, once on wednesdays, so she shouldn't worry. I made sure she got in ok, then caste my rod in the opposite direction with my Buick.

Somehow I ended up relating my prospective date on sunday to Chris. She's the smiley vegetarian, alternative living bohemian sort, so she was either nodding smiles or laughs about it.

Me: "Yeah, I just learned recently she's single again," I said, "Had a crush on her for about a year now. God that sounds silly."

Her: [laughs] "Well that's good."

I'd always liked Chris in a friendly way, so I opened up some about dating. Just to impart my experience with psychowenches and/or the broken. I dutifully made it funny, of course; penny of pain, pound of sugar.

It was 4am by the time I dropped her off. She told me I should organize an Inferno night. I smiled a half-smile and said I'd see her around.

And suddenly the coughing came back as I wove through the empty quiet streets. Still hasn't left yet. Odd.

Sunday

Erin and I had decided to go by a cafe in the late afternoon. Originally I'd decided on 1:30. She had lab stuff and pushed it to 2:30.

Good thing. 4:30am + 8 hours = not much prep time for a 1:30 deadline.

Brian had told me Erin wasn't dating the guy she had been. This made sense to me. He apparently never visited her in Madison; had an aversion. And long distance romance sucks without occasional face-to-face.

Was I excited? Actually I told myself I'd probably fuck it up and not to worry about it. But the mood was generally positive. I decided to try something casual but flattering: short-sleeved semi-metallic/semi-clingy shirt, black slacks, sandals. My hair felt like being spikey, and I can't exactly argue with it.

So I walked to Barriques, right past an art faire that I'd only pausingly pay attention to later. I saw her sitting at a metal and wood terminal. I lightly tapped her shoulder. Always did enjoy her smile. And beautiful as usual. She her hair down and back, clad in a low cut green and white dress--just passing up to the tops of her breasts, for a respectable bit of cleavage. No bra.

My first (unspoken) thought? "She did lab work in that? Huh."

I was a gentleman about noticing, of course, given that a brief look is actually encouraged.

So for the next two and a half hours we talked. This is the first time we've met outside of group situations, so we mostly stuck to work, graduate school, projects, graduate school, vacations, you can guess, etc. The conversation flowed smoothly and was quite fun. (And I only kept my attention on her eyes or face, which with that dress was not easy--but then again with that face maybe it was). She has some sarcasm in her, which I like. She did slip in at one point that her boyfriend was in Alaska doing some track something or other.

This gave me the slightest of pauses. So she was still with the guy, ok, that itself let my spirits down some. At the same time, though, her fashion suggested something otherwise. Maybe that's just what she was wearing all day...at the lab...without a bra (which given her frame is obviously noticeable). I have a few theories, but I like the attention so meh.

At another point I was answering a question about Brian's advisor and why he's a dick. I'd been good about keeping the coughing under wraps, but my throat was dry. I closed my eyes and tried to recompose myself, but I couldn't catch breath or words. Did catch a bit of breath eventually. I looked up and she seemed genuinely concerned instead of embarassed. (With the brow meeting box squiggle thing). I got some water, came back, and continued. That was kindof embarassing, but I let it pass.

Eventually she mentioned she had stuff to do re: the research deal, which made sense either in reality or just to move on with the day. She mentioned we should do something again sometime, like me showing her my photography. I walked with her back to her place partway, but she suggested she could walk back just fine, so we parted with smiles and left.

And yeah, I kinda did feel like I screwed up. I know that likely sounds either ludicrous or silly, but I'd told Chris the truth: I've had a crush on this woman ever since she came here. On 3 or 4 occasions I'd wake up and she was the only thing on my mind. It isn't rooted in sexiness so much. To me she is gorgeous, can't deny it, but I really like her for the way she appears to be. Well, that and she's touchy-feely when she's drunk.

Just a day or two ago I asked if she wanted to do something this next weekend. The expected time lag came and she said yes, that'd be good for whatever I'd like to do. I'm used to making decisions for everyone, so I have a few ideas in mind.

Yeah I have no idea why I'm doing it. I like the attention and local company. Let it just remain 'what if' flirting and that'll be cool with me.

I already know the consequences otherwise, no matter if she likes or doesn't like her current relationship. Already learned, forgot, re-learned, rationalized, and semi-accepted that one.

I just make everything tragic, don't I? Well that's part of my charm and you've read this far, so what the hell.

* * *

And as a quick note, I was an idiot today.

On the one hand, I rightly followed an impulse, and finally did some photography this morning around and below the monona terrace. Several beautiful, unfinished pieces from that trip. I walked along train track rails, underneath bridges overgrown with dust and spiders and half-forgotten murals from an age ago. I sat on my haunches in the dark, patient, or leaned on my staff while scrunching one eye closed--just waiting for that first flicker from the LCD screen; that moment where I finally saw. The entire city is completely overrun with one of my totem animals--such beautiful, wickedly ugly sweethearts, some as big as half my thumb and jet black.

On the other hand, I did that 'til 2:30, and sent a mostly finished one to Mari (who's fast become like a sister, so don't give me that look). Around that time I checked my calendar phone and realized:

Oh. Monkey stuff to do. at 9:30. Which means I wake up at 8:30. I am a fucking idiot.

So of course I ranted and raved about the messenger and not the fact I'd accept (what I thought) was doing stuff on monday. Oh the things I called my supervisor out of mindless anger. The combination of the emotional reaction, the near unbearable sauna-like heat and humidity that's been around for a few weeks (91F, 60%, Wisconsin), and the anxiety of getting up early kept me up for hours. Finally I took a sleeping pill. Got something like 4...maybe.

And I found out...drum roll...

[drum roll] Thanks. I found out that:

[cymbal crash] I didn't have to come in today!

[fanfare] Fuck you.

[splat]

Yeah I'd put the thing in my phone incorrectly. It was TUESDAY. Gabe joked good-naturedly I could go back to sleep, since I'd mentioned the lack of sleep deal. I'd just had a nutty bun and a large mocha thingy. But you know, because she said that, I went straight back home, crawled into bed, and tried sleeping for two hours.

No dice, but I felt better.

* * *

Alright, so that's a week ago off the checklist. I see here that, hey, I STILL need to talk about the PNI conference...and for you 4 year fans (all, uh, none of you), what the fuck, there's that McNair conference I never covered. With the swingsets and the monstrously overpriced room I got for free?

Well I won't get carried away. But I will update...

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