Thoughts on a Rainy Sunday in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Rain. Rain. Nothing but rain. All. Stinking. Weekend. I think I’ve slept enough for three or four people. Of course, it does feel so good to sleep while the rain pelts the windowpane and the cat curls in the crook of my arm and purrrrrrrrrss for hours. I’ve been all about comfort this weekend. Ice-cream. Movies. Luxurious sleep. Can’t say enough. Yum.

But it’s Sunday night, and I’ve got ants in my pants. I need to do something productive. I think I will start the laundry after this entry and maybe try to clean out this armoire (where my computer is stored. There are papers and coupons and all kinds of junk in here that shouldn’t be).

I’m feeling the blues start to set in and I don’t think I’m up for them. I’d like to stave them off for a while longer. Honestly, I’ve been staving for months now. I can feel a big breakdown approaching. It’s going to be huge. The pressure is building. I just don’t want to deal tonight. Not right now.

I’ve put off a trip to Honduras for Best Bud’s birthday. It’s her 40th. She’s pulled a big SCUBA trip together. It’s going to hurt her feelings that I can’t go. I feel this mass of guilt. But my Europe trip got in the way of planning, and by the time I was able to start looking into tickets, there were none available for the time that I needed to go. What am I going to do? She’s going to be upset. I’ve been avoiding calling her all weekend because I don’t want to hear the disappointment. I know I need to call her soon, but I feel so schmucky right now.

Super T and I talked again for a while today. And once again, I wonder why we even keep in touch. Sometimes he calls when he wants to talk dirty and it gets me so worked up and I want to see him. He wants me to come to Dallas. I probably should have gone this weekend, but it’s been so nice catching up on sleep. Is that sad or what? That I’d rather be sleeping than tangled up with Super T? I suppose it’s just that I know that nothing will ever come of us.

See, that’s the thing. I crave touch. I want it so desperately. But I don’t want meaningless touch. I don’t want it if it’s not going to lead to the possibility of more. A lot more. Meaningful more. I could have spent a few more hours touching Karl when I had him in my room last week. Yeah. It was nice and all. And I could fly down to see Super T for a weekend. But I want the kind of touch that will lead to breakfast in the morning and hanging out on a rainy afternoon. And going to the movies together at the last minute. And friendship. Companionship.

Do you know how much it sucks that the last sex I had was that wretched one-night-stand in New York back in March? It won’t go away. I just can’t wash it off. It bothers me. I regret that.

Yech. Now I have heartburn.

And Sports Guy is completely out of the picture at this point. Sure, it was fun going to the US Open on opening night with him and all, but shit. First of all, he’s one of those name droppers. Telling me that we were going to go to so-and-so’s suite. There’s so-and-so over there. Blah. Blah. Blah. And every time he’d talk to me, his hands were ALL OVER ME. Again, I crave the touch, but….creepy doesn’t even describe it. I know he expected me to fawn all over him. The seats were nice and all (though comp’d from somewhere other than his affiliation), but we never ended up going to so-and-so’s suite. It was odd and awkward and I felt slimy when all was said and done.

The only really cool thing about it was seeing Pete Sampras retire. It was touching. I tried to take photos, but they all came out blurry:

Oh well. It was a cool ceremony. And Sports Guy seemed moved. And I felt a little guilty for inching myself as far away from him as I could. But that guilt quickly passed when he squeezed my knee again. And again.

I felt the need to take a long, hot shower after he dropped me off at my hotel.

Another one down the drain.

Oh yeah. One more photo before I close for the night. On my way back from New York, my plane was delayed at LaGuardia. I had plenty of time to get some work photos loaded onto my computer, so I found a table with an electrical outlet in the food court area and started working. These kids were so curious about what I was doing. They were so, so darling. Stood over my shoulder and asked a bunch of questions. So I decided to show them how the camera worked.

I told them to smile for the camera:

How cute is that? They were so excited to see this on my computer! Precious.

Okay. I’m going to do something productive now.

Later.