Superficial Crap and Mistake-Making Potential in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

sniff. sniff. what is that smell?

Sports Guy has been calling again. I wonder what’s up with that? In a way, I think it’s really cool that he has a bit of a thing for me, as he’s something of a local big wig. And it’s coming up on the time where he will be in the public spotlight again (summer sport). There will be lots of social functions and cool things going on in his world, and I can tell he wants someone to go with him. Remember, he was the one who took me to the US Tennis Open back in August…on opening day! It was such a cool experience and all, but I had to go back to the entry where I wrote about it. He was handsy. Very handsy. And he’s a name dropper and kind of a braggart and when he’s asked to put his money where his mouth is, he gets upset and jittery. Insecurity, maybe?

I don’t know. In a way, I’d like to use the situation to get into his social circle. He’s connected and important and I’m itching to do some exciting things this summer. I suppose if I can slap his hands away long enough, it could be very interesting indeed.

Does that sound bad? Duh. I know it does. But when it’s a choice between going to cool social and sporting events or staying at home staring at the TV or the mounds of laundry I need to do, I think I’ll choose the former.

Besides, it’s not like anyone else is knocking down my door right now anyway.

The weather is gorgeous and I need to get outside. I’m wearing that darling ruffly skirt that I bought a couple of weeks ago, a little heather gray printed tank top, and my kitten-heeled flip flops. I wish I wasn’t so sick of my hair. I’m going to pull it back into a pony tail when it dries a little more.

And ugh. The weight creeps back so easily, doesn’t she? I’m starving myself this weekend. I always feel so humungazoid when I go to L.A. This week was no exception. I don’t think I’ll be happy with myself until I’m down to at least 120. I was getting close a couple weeks ago. Today, that goal seems light-years away.

I think I’m going to start looking at lofts this weekend. I’ve started to think that I don’t want to buy a house. I love doing yardwork and mowing the lawn and stuff like that—when I don’t have to, ya know? When it becomes something of a chore that has to get done, I don’t think it would be so much fun. I would hate having to keep up with it. Sure, I suppose I could hire someone to do it for me…maybe that’s the answer.

Yes, there are a lot of darling houses out there. And they are sooooo affordable here. Shit. I don’t know. I have some time. I think I will look at lofts and condos first, though. Then maybe if I get discouraged enough, I’ll go back and look at a cottage or two.

So, the Pixies are playing at the Greek in Berkeley on September 24th. Tickets go on sale tomorrow. I sent an e-mail to LDL to see if he could get tickets. If he can, it looks like another possible long-distance booty call.

I have truly gone insane.