Purge The thing about the miniature golf girl is really not that interesting. Basically, after months of me being flaky and non-committal, just as I’ve also done with the new york girl, the 21 year old, and the other ones I don’t even have nicknames for, yet, she gave me the option of either liking her and showing her, or please just leave her alone because it’s painful to like someone who’s not that into you.

And I balked.

Which makes the fact that I’m feeling a little lonely today all the more ironic. I didn’t yesterday, and I probably won’t tomorrow, but I do tonight. I’m not sure why. I think it has a lot to do with my work schedule the last two weeks. I feel a bit disconnected because of it, and wish for the easier times when things were figured out and I knew which side my bread was buttered on.

That’s the second time today that I have used a really old, really dorky saying. i can’t remember what the other one was, but I do remember going, “That’s right, I just said _____,” right afterwards.

I think it has to do with me reflecting on the last several months for no particular reason earlier today. A lot has happened, and there have been a lot of people who may or may not have been female passing through the front door. On the one hand: awesome, I’ve been really lucky. On the other hand: sad that I’m not really any further along than I was before this started. True the sting from ADG is a little weaker, the confidence is a lot higher and I’m miles and miles more comfortable in my own skin…

And yet…

Or it could be because I watched the Will and Grace series finale (mostly out of obligation. Just between you and me, though: not really funny, not really heartwrenching, just an hour long.

I was going to insert an “one year ago today” thing here, but I when I went back to 05.18.05 I found that I hadn’t written a post. Same for ’04, and ’03, and ’02. I had to go all the way back to my first year of blogging to find something on may 18th, and it wasn’t even my own:

A self-annotated entry from an entirely other day:

It’s about nine thirty in the morning and I’m foraging through the fridge at work, pulling out little cardboard boxes from yesterday’s lunch. I spoon some fried rice onto the slippery shrimp and drop a wad of cashew chicken on top. I mash the whole mess together, poke some chopsticks in and turn around to find a female co-worker standing behind me with a sort of Dian Fossey-ish look on her face.

“You’re not going to eat that, are you?”

“Um… Yeah.”

Cold?”

“Yeah.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

A shudder runs through her body.

“Who in the world has Chinese food for breakfast?”

The Chinese?”

She doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Plus,” I add, “I’m going to have scrambled eggs for dinner.”

I’m sure those links are dead by now. I don’t know if it’s weird or not that I didn’t really post today for the last 5 years, but I’m sure I’ll think I shouldn’t have today, 5 years from now.

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