Saturday, October 9, 2010

it was a saturday, you said you're takin me out

Samedi sior. 


Why am I not sitting comfortably positioned around my favorite friendly faces drinking wine and lucky? In a car, on a lawn, or; on  rare occasions, on a chair? I am asking myself this same question. Where I work, night life is a hot topic, a conversation starter, a make or breaker, a cut throat, important category of discussion. I had nothing to say about my plans this evening, as eager customer, after eager customer asked me my plans, as if I would somehow give them advice on where to go themselves. There are always options in the art community, always a familiar face to be stumbled upon in cases of pure spontaneity. But alas, I decided to go home, brush my teeth, eat some crackers and hummus, in hopes that someone would send a text that would change the potential pathetic direction my night was taking. That did not happen, and here I am, perched in bed, sans socks, buried in blankets, proud of my decision on staying in. After all, last night was mental, absolutely mental. Things proceeded as they usual do on a friday, wine was purchased, my favorite girls and moi were scheduled to meet and car chat/drink before heading a la gios (land of dirty talk, ex's and drama). You see, I made the most moronic decision I could possibly make and invited a "good" friend of mine out to join us. This girl, whom I try so very had to respect and understand, is the most unreasonable, hyper sensitive, emotionally demanding friend I have.(I typically stray from those personality types, but she is an exception). Despite that, her and I have managed to cultivate quite a spectacular relationship, but I have changed since we met 5 years ago, she has changed plenty as well. I no longer sense solidarity, I sense jealousy, resentment, and expectations for our friendship I cannot fulfill, though I would sell my soul to make her happy, I know I cannot, without making myself miserable. She, not only said some things that offended our collective friend group, but she also encouraged me to drink way more than I should have. Fast forward, and, I go out onto the patio for a cigarette (she despises cigarettes and smoke), I tell her where we are going, and she nods as if to give approval. The patio at this particular gay bar is infectious. Ex's roam freely, beautiful girls whom you have never seen before stare at you, and you silently stare back from the corner of your eye. Past stalkers greet you as if their former inappropriate behavior was a delusion, it must have never happened. Beer bottles, full and empty, decorate the room, as smoke hazes the air. Couples banter, laugh, fight, and good friends pile drunkenly onto benches, the same said benches where I have broken 2 glasses over the past two weeks. (complete accidents, both times).I have always been fascinated with the emotion expressed in bars, at night in general. Everything is electric, like lightening. So, basically, I become completely emersed in this environment and begin to console one of my friends whom had had an encounter with an ex. This said emotional friend proceeds to storm out onto the patio, arms crossed, mouth tense, eyes narrowed towards the ground, then bravely and boldly looks up and demands I take her home. I chase her empathically and clearly concerned out of the patio and with much force, get her into the washroom. I tell her how unreasonable she is being, and don't even ask her why she is upset. I know all too well, that she is offended that I did not come back in after the presumed 5 minutes it takes the average person to smoke a cigarette and accommodate her. Sorry, if I was 10 minutes, like, come on. I articulated my exact feelings towards her right then and there, and told her this cannot continue. I can't possibly entertain her in this way. I am not, and have never been a hyper reliable person, no one is, unless they are. I told her I need leeway and flexibility, and that I wish she could understand that none of us had any intention of leaving her unattended, but she did it to herself. I realize I am being too intense as she is very drunk, and probably not digesting anything I am saying. I offer to call her a cab, on me. She insists on walking, I can't argue with her, she is not pliable. Ugh, some peoples children. I do like this girl, but cant deal with her behavior any longer. I need to limit my exposure to her to dinners and perhaps other events in which her dependence on me is limited, as chances are I will not meet up to her overtly high expectations of her friends. So, that was last night. I cried in front friends for the first time EVER, and that was honestly the first time I have ever had a public blow out with someone I care about. Yikes. But, things got considerably better. I danced, we danced, my best man friend came to the rescue and we all hugged and didn't let the events of the night put a damper on us. (the girl left, ran home in fact, and from what I know got home in one piece). We ended the night with some grub from shoppers, talk of life and friends and politics in my infamous ford focus in an anonymous parking spot in osbornetown. I could not ask for better friends, or a better girlfriend. I did not mention her enough in this post, but, I will make up for that. 

Realizing, that though I love my late nights, there is nothing like me, my bed, and my mind. Solidarity. 

sleep deep and tight. 

-L



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