Sixteenth

I am tired and grouchy, and I kind of hate my friends. I don’t. I’m just tired of them and slightly annoyed. A couple days ago, Zina called me to say “hey, I’m on my way over to your house, how do I get there?” I wasn’t home. I was at rehearsal, and would be till 9 or 10. Riley and Jesse had invited Zina and Erica and Zina’s roommate. Hmm. Weird. I mean, it was fine, and my roommates were cool with it, and it was a fun night that involve juggling and quiche and ice cream cake and stuff. But still. Weird to invite people over when your direct host isn’t there. Am I right? I like having people over, and these guys are fun, but i was exhausted, and they are exhausting. It’s always such high energy, they have music, and constant jokes and laughing and it just never stops. I know. I’m complaining about fun. What the hell. Anyway. So then tonight, the 5 of us go see Passing Strange. Which is great. It’s a fantastic show, I’m so glad I got to see it again, I’ve gotten to see it evolve which is really cool. It isn’t as awe-inspiring to me as it used to be (and I think the stage they’re on now is too big, they’re working to fill it, and it doesn’t always work), but it was fantastic. The annoying nit-picking thing- I sent an email out two weeks ago trying to arrange it and suggesting days. None of these guys respond. Or talk to me about it in person. i had to push pretty hard to make it happen. Which was worth it, they loved it, and I got to share something that I loved with them, which is always cool. I just wish they had met me more halfway with it. You know? I’m whining. I feel stupid about it, but it also does kind of upset me. Time to get over it.

After the show we went to get food. I like these people all. But I like them much more on an individual basis. Though we don’t have that much in common, I’m realizing. Rather, they all do, this sophmoric sense of humor that I can’t always get into, and vast knowledge and like of hip hop. I feel old around them. And tired. They went uptown to go hang out with another friend and dance and stuff. I went home. It took 2 hours to get there. It should be slightly under an hour. There was track work, and shuttles had to be used, and I was tired and stupid and missed trains. I was reading, and I finish The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, which was really good, very pretty and sad. It left me kind of sad and foggy headed, which really didn’t help the situation what with me already tired. So I fucked up and did stupid stuff and took way too long. I talked to some good mta workers, though. They were pretty cool.

But then I got home, and cried. I’m not sure why. Maybe from being all social and that wearing me out physically and emotionally. Maybe because of the book, maybe because the end of Passing Strange has some heavy, sad elements. Maybe because I’m starting to miss John. All of the above, most likely. But there wasn’t one I could pinpoint, and even now I’m jsut guessing. I just needed to cry, and be vaguely frustrated. The feeling isn’t really gone. I should go to sleep. I was on my way, but then there was a couple fighting on the street, which was kind of distracting.

I’ve gotten a lot of reading done lately, though. Which is satisfying. I like when I get to do that, just devour books one after the other. Recently- The Other Boleyn Girl, Man Walks Into a Room, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. I’m also in the middle of World War Z, and The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat. I like reading several books at once. Sometimes it can get a little muddly, but it’s fun to be absorbed in different storylines. I wonder if they affect my view of the others, if by reading them tangentially my appreciation is different. Definitely so in the case of Man Walks into a Room, and the Mistook for a Hat. They’re on the same subject of memory loss/neurological disorders, but one is fiction and explores what the viewpoint of an amnesiac might be, the other analyzes and poses questions, but being realistc isn’t able to give concrete anwers about the specific reality.

The couple is still fighting. I might make a call soon. She wants to get run over, and he’s stopping her, seems to be the upshot. What the fuck. Things I don’t want to deal with at 2am.

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