I've always tried to mean what I say and say what I mean. I try even more now that I am getting myself into some very new situations for me.

Sometimes things come out wrong, but ultimately I think I'm pretty clear a lot of the time. Though, sometimes, just in case the point isn't getting across, I'll just fucking blurt it out. That's why a few weeks ago, sitting next to a guy I intended to make out with, I said "I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I'm not even divorced yet." That's also why I repeatedly made it explicit that the walk home from Reflections the other night, was JUST a walk home.

I came in from a cigarette and it was all over. And I barely recognized anyone that was left in there. Shit. Stupid girl. How are you going to get home by yourself? You sat and drank draught and played video games all night. Now you're downtown, drunk, broke, and alone. Madonna comes on so I can't worry about my problems any more. I can't not dance when they play that era Madonna. Some people I kinda know came and danced with me. I clearly explained my situation. One of them, the one I didn't know was back in town and have spoken to at parties way in the past, was apparently going to a party in the North End, so I could walk in the same direction.

"Well, I guess you could come in and smoke the roach joint I'm going to roll, but then I have to go to bed."

Holy persistent. Fuck. Time passed, and I wanted to sleep. He wouldn't leave. He couldn't get a hold of the party (I don't even think he actually had a number, or party to go to). I NEED to go to bed, so I try to get him to go. He has a long walk home. Well, if you're okay with walking, then you should but "if it's going to kill you, you could probably sleep on the couch, but you'd have to ask my roommate because I'm going to bed so she's the one it would affect".

Finally, somehow, he had side-stepped enough that we were both upstairs in the hallway. I was getting very pissed off, and so was my roommate who was trying to sleep. "You're totally hot and I'd love to make out with you." Like, what the fuck? I mean, hey, I admire the coming out and saying it instead of shy-boy, insecure, should I shouldn't I ambiguity. But it wasn't going to happen, and I'm sure I made that clear.

The other awake person in the house saved me by grabbing a guitar and singing him a song about how Crystal's not going to make out with him, she's going to go to bed and lock her door, if it'll kill you to walk home, maybe you could stay on a couch, but Crystal's not going to make out with you.

I am forever in her debt. I love my friends.

Last year was the day after my first time at the Fjort.