palmerpink

Or he found me. Apparently, I sent the first message, but either way, I've ended up with a boyfriend. And it's turned out pretty amazing. A goodly several months ago, I was entering a "Let's be a slut!" phase in my life when I met this guy on Grindr. I was talking to several guys (cf: slut phase), but he was neat—cute, good conversation, and so forth. I wasn't sure where things would go or where I wanted them to go or what I expected, but I kept chatting with him because he was interesting. Worst case, I reasoned, he seemed like he'd make for a pretty neat friend. One day, my boss decided our department should go out to grab Italian ice at a place near our office; unfortunately, a last-minute meeting cropped up, so the outing was canceled. But I still wanted Italian ice. And I had the next day off, and that one particular guy I'd been talking to, Anthony, had the afternoon free from work. He'd also never had Italian ice. So I decided we...

Lord knows I really want to rant right now; I've been angrier, sure, and I've felt more hurt, but the temptation is there to tear into this guy. But I'm supposed to be a grown up. He's supposed to be my friend--and I do care about that. I'm not supposed to even be taking these things so seriously anymore. So why the fuck am I? So I was dating a guy recently; we had four dates. I thought we were really starting to click. I'll admit it--I'd even begun to like the guy. Not quite like-like him, but there was a definite fondness growing. As I was learning more about him, I was liking what I learned more and more. We seemed to have chemistry, too. It was pretty nice how I could talk about smart stuff with him without either a) feeling like I was supposed to be talking down to him or b) feeling like he had to challenge me to a contest of who was the smartest fuck in the room. It was natural, intelligent, fun conversation. And that was really cool. I was defin...

Friday, I wrote about how bad April is for me . The last couple of days have, in their moments, continued to remind me why. Partly, it's a mean game I play with/on myself. Slight obsessiveness mixed with loneliness and indecisiveness. I've had an especially hard time shaking it this week. Like, there's this one guy I've known for a long, long time. And really liked him pretty much all along, too. Not just because he's oh-so-fuckable but out of legit respect for his mind and personality and so on. I think he's just awesome, but I don't know if he even knows I'm "here". You know, like that . I mean, I imagine he must know I like him. ...right? But it's like he looks right through me half the time--or is he just playing really really coy with me? Other times...he seems almost annoyed with me. But maybe he's busy. And what about those times he seems to set aside other goings on to talk to me? Can you tell I think about this way to...

Earlier, I transcribed a draft of a poem on my litty blog extolling the reasons and ways I hate April. Probably, or eventually at least, less pretentiously/tritely than that sounded. Regardless, here's a bit of a conversation/rant I had that explains my loathing of April as "The Cruellest Month": (04/01/2011 08:01:51 AM) unwitting friend: why april? (04/01/2011 08:09:10 AM) Palmer: as i just quoted on mah twitter... (04/01/2011 08:09:53 AM) Palmer: "April is the cruellest month, breeding/Lilacs out of the deadland, Mixing/Memory and desire, stirring/Dull roots with spring rain." (04/01/2011 08:10:34 AM) Palmer: it's when people's hormones get reawakened, all those lovely flowers and cherry blossoms start coming back, and everyone wants to go out into the world and display their coupling might (04/01/2011 08:11:17 AM) Palmer: and on other days it's rainy and dreary, giving me time to remember & sulk about how, unlike everyone else...