tales of a girl in the city

mai 06, 2004

Curiouser and Curiouser

I wrote this on Tuesday afternoon, preparing to give you guys a blow-by-blow account of what happened:

Ideally, I would like to create some sort of Powerpoint Presentation to further assist us in the reconstruction and analysis of The Events That Occurred Between April 17 and May 3, a time which will from now on be remembered as The Time of: What the Fuck Was It? I Don't Know--Poke It Again. However, I'm too confused and shocked, and just don't generally have the patience for all the graphs and pie-charts that would be necessary. So no nifty pie-charts unless someone wants to step up and volunteer to help.

Instead, here is a list of things we should gather that may help us in our analysis:

Many, Many Tequilla Shots
All of S's Movies (Which, obviously I'll have to provide, since no one else knows what they are.)
Tarot Cards
At least one person who speaks fluent Male.
Much Kleenex. The kind with the lotion so my nose doesn't get red.
More Tequilla Shots. We still don't have enough.
Nope. More still.
And, wait. OH, I almost forgot. Right. A MIND-READER.

*end post that I wrote Tuesday*

Because just as I was about to continue writing the post I got, a call from S. Then an e-mail from S. Then another e-mail. Then I called him back. Then we got together and talked in Union Square for three hours.

And now.

Now I don't know what is happening.

I feel like I'm in whatever grade I was in when I took trigonometry. Third, probably. Sounds right. Anyway, I feel like I did then. Like I'm staring at this test covered with numbers and slashes and x's and obviously I know so little about trigonometry that I can't even write about it intelligently, which, I guess is kind of perfect, because that is exactly how confused I am.

I'd say Love is weird, but this isn't Love. Not nearly. Not yet. It's more like Like. Extreme Like.... With Potential.

Well, Extreme Like With Potential is weird.