Straight No Chaser

Welts

am currently fixing something that was bothering me about certain earlier entries of this journal. gps if you can tell me what i fixed. hint: you shouldn't have to look further than this entry to figure out what i fixed. not so much a gimmick as just self-deprecating curiosity, because i'm pretty sure no one will notice, meaning it was never such a big deal that i really had to change it. anyway, we'll see.

someone who reads my journal hates me. loves grim, hates me, both with intensity. possibly the two are related. probably, even. that's my guess. the emails total six at this point; the first right after the island story, the most recent last night. definitely all from the same person, is my stylistic assessment, meaning that to this person, expressing herself is worth the pretty significant hassle of clearing and reentering her rating every time. which is funny, because i can barely be fucked to do that when i actually, legitimately feel like changing a rating. ninety-nine percent sure it's a female, which is a big surprise, because it's not like women ever read aaronova's journal, or anything. not like they get attached to him, raise their eyebrows at each other, compete for his anonymous attention. really, the whole thing is just shocking.

aaron and i have our theories, and, having been raised on encyclopedia brown and carmen san diego, respectively, we are confident that we'll figure this out. he seems to think it's funny, and i don't particularly mind being anonymously hated--i figure, since i don't know what i did to deserve it, i might very well have done something--but in true overachiever spirit, we have decided that we will prevail. so, keep sending the emails! i am enjoying them profoundly! so flattering, that your interest in my life is limited to the sporadic way it intersects with his!

saw 2 far exceeded my (high) expectations. the trip ended up being awkward, because it was four of the guys and then three of us, ideal for a boy-girl-boy seating situation, but krystle's going through this thing where she can't be comfortable around guys who aren't sexually interested in her. bizarre, but typical. marcha (a guy, despite his name) is interested in melony, mostly because she'll be gone in december, and krystle's decided she's interested in marcha; chris and mario are completely uninteresting, except in that outspoken scatalogical way; fred has a girlfriend. misery for krystle, who didn't want to see the movie anyway. and it's hard, because krystle wrote herself out of the group dynamic for the entire year she was dating luncy, and i don't know what she expects, now that he's gone. i get benefits for being a permanent fixture, melony gets benefits for being a novelty, but no one's going to reward krystle for her prodigal wanderings. she cried all the way home.

marcus didn't come, because he had step practice. disheartening. an upcoming step show means evenings will suck between now and then. plans will get canceled, airways will constrict. the former i can deal with; like i told him a couple days ago, the overarching certainties and the little niceties redeem the long-term inconveniences. but i hate seeing him sick; i hate seeing him exhausted; i hate hearing him stress about school, which should be the least of his worries, because he is so tremendously brilliant. i have this huge protective instinct; i'm smaller but i like to hold him; i try to be soft so he won't mind falling on me. he doesn't like to need people, which is okay because i don't need to be needed, but blergh.

an underdeveloped thought. and here's another: multiple orgasms are not a blessing, in particular, they're just there to even the count.

finally, they turned the heat on. the building had been an igloo since mid-september, even though it's generally been hot out. i'm glad, because i was worrying, occasionally, what was going to happen on particularly cold days when marcus showed up, days when i wanted to wear tank tops and skirts and be flirty, but couldn't for all the shivering. the permanently hard nipples i doubt he'd mind. but he always makes a huge deal about spasms of any kind, shivering or hiccups or muscle strain; like if he puts his head on my shoulder and it vibrates, while i'm adjusting, he's quick with an "are you sure you're comfortable?" sensitive and sweet, i appreciate it, but i'll always sacrifice minor comforts for intimacy. anyway, thank god for this blessed heat.

thanksgiving airline tickets wound up costing something like four hundred dollars. that's all bad. i meant to do it earlier, i really did, but i usually order them even later than this, i swear, and they're never that expensive. plus, there were like nine obstacles before i actually succeeded at making the purchase. the computer froze, i put in the wrong departure date, i couldn't find my credit card, i put in the wrong return date. signs, all. next year i probably won't go home for thanksgiving. i almost didn't this year, really, but my mom, who is outnumbered through most of the year, pitched a pretty convincing fit.

my dad's going to try to talk us into an impromptu drive to detroit, probably the friday after thanksgiving. i wouldn't mind, really, minus the driving part. i haven't seen my detroit grandmother, or my dad's surviving brother and sister, in almost three years. grandma just turned eighty-three on tuesday. my mom is freaking out; she wants daddy to make a substantial visit up north before it's too late, with or without us. she's his mother; chad and i have never been particularly close to that side of the family. but, i don't know, my dad's always stuck to his separatist guns, not because he doesn't love his nuclear family, but because he had to detach if he wanted to succeed. i'm guessing they encouraged it. he was the youngest and the smartest; they wanted him far, far away from the alcoholic father and the morally wayward older sister (both now deceased). but he should go. he keeps making excuses. i have a meeting, chad's got college applications due that weekend, shannon won't be home, i can't access the delta website. whatever. just go. he's setting a shitty example, and if he really thinks he's going to talk three extra people, one of whom is going to spend that entire weekend in semicoastal transit anyway, into a long drive like that, he's wrong.

this entry is all over the place, i know. it's because i'm simultaneously writing a paper and restoring uniformity to the journal in between each paragraph. maybe i'll divulge some huge, sexy secret at the end, or something, to make it worth your while. if i don't, sorry. but if you've made it this far, then i probably love you.

the secondary plan for the evening, in case marcus has practice again or something, is to carve pumpkins at krystle's, with the boys, and with hocus pocus playing in the background. i'm stupid, though, because i just tentatively invited melony. and we've already seen that it sucks to have those two competing for attention from the same four unsuspecting guys. that is amazing, that sexual tension can turn even the most innocent and uninteresting evening into a totally predictable bitchfest. maybe i'll just drive to birmingham instead, let those two duke it out.

marking a first in journaling history, this entry has been in progress for something like nine hours. the paper is finished, plans for the evening are still shaky, marcus still hasn't called and krystle is still being unconscionably difficult. it would be something, wouldn't it, if instead of following either of the predesignated paths, i just ended up here tonight. basking in the heater's unexpected warmth and writing about raye. sigh.

that might actually be nice, considering how drastically my mood has dropped off since i started writing. melony has company, suddenly, a sophomore named nick with a huge gap in his teeth and a loud laugh. honestly, i am really tired of her overexposed bullshit. she and miya went to morehouse, today, and spent something like six hours sitting in the coffee shop, talking to every passerby with a penis. i want to tell her, and i didn't learn this myself except by having a younger brother and a male for a best friend, that when it comes to finding prospects, generally, the more they see you, the less they want to. there is nothing less attractive, says chad, and marcus concurs, than a girl you always see in the same place. nick is apparently an exception, because they managed to lure him back here, and now they're all three crowded onto one twin bed, giggling periodically and in threeway unison.

this was going to be an exercise in stamina, i was going to try to generate one paragraph for each retroactively repaired entry, but i'm not saying anything anymore, i'm done. and no sexy secret. sorry.