denial

i woke up this morning and thought, wow i've had some pretty random posts in the last few days. if i could just condense my thoughts into a coherent paragraph...

but really. this morning i woke up only to find that Mr. Migraine had migrated to the other side of my head. driving home last night he was asleep on the left side, only stirring when i would stand up or sit down or otherwise experience a slight change in blood pressure. but when i woke up he was on the right side, awake and kicking me, trying to get me out of bed like i did to my parents when i was little, begging them to get up and make me breakfast. i have him subdued with acetaminophen(sp). hopefully this makes him happy enough to leave me alone.

and i found that my breath was reminiscent of The Ex's. i did a mental check - did i make out with anyone last night? no. did i see my ex last night? no. so what has given me this breath? it took a moment for me to remember that i went to a bar with K (look, you're in here again!) and JCP after seeing be cool. K works in advertising, and his firm deals with the european campaign for a certain tobacco company. last night he pulled out a cute little box of cigarettes from said company. they were short! he explained to me that it's for people who have to smoke but don't have a lot of time - it's the perfect size because i can finish it in the time it takes me to walk from my car to the train station (or something like that, K can correct me later, but you get the idea). and i couldn't resist. so i had one. it was gross - it had a plastic-ey aftertaste. it burned the membranes of my nostrils on its way out. blech. but then this drunken older guy comes over to the bar next to us and gets a drink. he, uninvited, begins to try to make conversation with us. i ignore him. JCP and K politely entertain him, as Drunk Guy tells K that he reminds him of someone. then he asks us all how old we are (or something like that, as i said before i was ignoring him). trying to find a way of showing him that he is not wanted, i ask K for another. so i am trying to create my own little world by building a smoke screen to block this guy out. but he is persistent. and he has the nerve to ask MY age! i say, GUESS! and then i go back to my world. eventually we start talking about three-ways and someone mentions strap-ons and other inane sexual conversation follows, and we succeed in showing the Drunk Guy that he isn't wanted, so he goes to bother someone else. it's not like he was malevolent - he was actually pretty benign and had i not had a headache i probably would have been nicer. so as i'm finishing the 2nd mini-cigarette, JCP says something like, so you're a smoker now. what kind do you smoke? and i say that i'm definitely NOT a smoker. i just occasionaly bum one off of people. the last one i had i think was a marlboro menthol. but i'm not a smoker - it's not like i buy my own. it's just kind of entertainment. but after waking up this morning and realizing that The Ex's nasty breath was, in fact, resultant of his own habits, i am decidedly and definitely NOT a smoker. will definitely keep the number down to one per night if at all, and will definitely stay away from the brand that K was smoking! and, i may have mentioned this before, but if i ever do buy my own i will buy really expensive and high quality ones, and then have a little cigarette case wherein i will put two or three at the most, and will have expensive lighter too so i can make a whole show of it and it will definitely be merely for entertainment purposes. ugh how gross - my mom must deal with this kind of breath every day. she probably doesn't realize it anymore b/c she's been a chain smoker for so long!

thursday night i hung out with Mr P. we just sat and drank and laughed at teachers at the bar of this one restaurant we have hung out at now once every week for the past three weeks. we know the bartender's name. JR. so we call him Junior. he just looks like a douche - weak and double chin, hardly defined jawbones - definitely looks like a douche (with that said, i can allow you to say, she is really thin she definitely looks like an anorexic, though it drives me up the wall when people say that to me). then, because i'm inebriated and thinking i didn't have much to eat for dinner, i suggest we go get something to eat. it is two in the morning now. so we go. as i slowly sober up with the help of scranbled eggs, bacon, and rye toast with butter, Mr P tells me i'm not sure what. but he takes this card out of his wallet. it's a store credit card, with the letters JBR on it. for a second i'm like, hmm, but then i realize what it is and laugh at him. JBR as in the jewelry store! haha! then he explains to me how he used to buy girls jewelry, how much of a sucker he used to be. did the girls ASK for the jewelry? he says he'd just buy it for them. i have another laugh at his expense, part at his sucker-ness and part as a result of my cynicism, because nobody has ever bought me jewelry, and the only person i could allow to buy it for me would be my mother. anyone else might just end up looking bad (in giving gifts it IS the thought that counts but a bad gift, esp in the beginning of a relationship, could necessarily make an impact on my overall impression of a person, and/or make me feel bad for not liking it - like the sweater The Ex brought me back from Amsterdam that i would never, ever wear. it is always safe to go with flowers. when in doubt, flowers, unless you've only known me a week in which case don't even bother - but that's a whole other story). of course i am laughing at his history of being a sucker when i realize that he has just paid for my two cosmopolitans AND my 2am breakfast.

then i remember the two conferences i interpreted for him and remember that he DOES owe me four drinks (two now). later yesterday i wondered about this. i mean, when you're on a date, let's not kid ourselves, some kind of physical payment is expected, is it not? what if you're going out as friends but fiscally it looks like a date? what do you get in return then? in the case with Mr P, his paying for my drinks was in return for doing work that he should have done, so we're square there. and whenever he does pay for my drinks, i make sure to pay for his the next time. so what does a friendship-level membership in Club Miss E get you? i'm always good at inventing these things. one drink could get you coffee the next time, or subway. a history of hanging out with me (ie, friendship) will get you a season pass to my pool. sure invites to all my "crazy" parties (you'll probably even see me nekked at one point, ha). my friendship. not that frienship requires anything in return; these are the things my friends enjoy (though enjoy might be used liberally here) automatically. there are some things better and longer lasting than the physical retribution you could "score" (hahahaha) by going out with me.

look - four coherent paragraphs!