7/26/99 - Terrific.  Nicole FINALLY gets around to taking a peak at my journal, and it comes the day after I put up my little pro-Islamic sympathy rant.  I've never discussed Jewish politics with her, probably b/c I'm so goddamn insecure about my politics in general and especially because she's Jewish.  I'll gladly talk to her about how I tried to kill myself, about my concerns with this woman or that, and about how I generally treat myself like shit.  But politics?  Fuggitaboutit.  Her friend who she is visiting wrote me an e-mail.  It actually didn't mention that entry at all, but instead it just went off on how Nicole wants me to take down the picture I have of her, or put up a more flattering one.  I dunno, I don't think it's that bad.  Or maybe it is.  OK, upon further review it is a bad photo.  But what can I do, it's the only one I have of her on me?

Despite my hopes that I could somehow conjure up a fun and interesting weekend, this turned out to be one of the more forgettable weekends in memory (and I've forgotten a lot of them).  I did nothing except go to 3rd Street a few times, walked around UCLA and Westwood, and watched my car search fail to get off the ground.  The latter is particularly pretty fucking frustrating, since this was the first time I really felt driven to look for a car.  But naturally the local rent-a-car places were closed on Sunday.  No, I wasn't going to buy a car from them (no way, not after the way I've seen myself treat rentals), but I need a car in order to go out and look for cars.  <SIGH> So I just sat home a lot, slept, tried to watch as much TV as I could without seeing any of the Kennedys (a difficult task), and masturbated a lot.

Oh, and I got to meet one of my neighbors last nite.  I went out to have a smoke around 8:00, and I discovered that Barbara, my neighbor from immediately across the way, was locked out of her place after returning from a trip to Vegas.  So being the nice guy that I am, I invited her in. 

Raise your hands if any kind of sexual thought just crossed your minds -- "Ooh, Haole invites a girl in who's 'locked out of her apartment'.  Yeah, I know millions of horny bastards out there would have been all over that.  And for good reason -- she's definitely cute, and I'm definitely eager to get some.  But you should know I'm not like that.  Anyhow, we talked on for about two hours or so, until she discovered that her roommate, or her friend, or somebody, had come home so she could go in and get some sleep.  She's the kind of person I like to meet -- she talks a lot, I interject something, and she talks some more.  Whenever I have an extended conversation, I tend to judge my "performance" based on the number of dead silences between us.  And there weren't any. 

Sam and Jenny had been at Mickey Mouse's Capitalismland, and they stopped by for a minute.  They both assumed something was up.  Dumbasses.  Can't a guy talk to an attractive, attractively dressed woman these days alone in an apartment without any kind of sexual energy existing?  Do I really want to think about the answer to that question?  Besides, I don't think talking about myself is usually something to get a woman all hot and bothered -- I don't have a car, I have a sucky job, I don't drink but do other drugs...people who are attracted to me after shit like that are one in a billion.

Which is why Paula is so damned special to me, and why I couldn't stop thinking about her, and how I wished I was talking to her last nite instead of Barbara.  But since talking to Barbara is free, and I'm trying not to seem obsessively interested in Paula (or get her parents suspicious as to who this guy from LA with a pager is and why he keeps calling), I didn't mind talking to Barbara. 

I had a dream last nite that these aliens came down in these bright orange spaceships and we all knew it was only a matter of time before the extraterrestrial bastards atomized us.  The only person I remember from the dream was my firm's decrepit telephone services lady (don't ask me).  My dream ended when the fucking alien bastards activated their heat beams or whatever they hell they were packing, and annihilated us in an ID4-like manner. 

It woke me up, and the first thing on my mind was Paula and how I'd never get to see her because these fucking X-Files rejects had to wipe humanity off the face of the earth.  Maybe they were pissed because they always get bad press on TV here.  But I wasn't frightened this morning when I woke up because they wanted to kill us all, only sad because I couldn't see Paula.  I don't know if that's pathetic or admirable.


 
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