I'm trying to have friends. I went out last night to a company function...except that it's a small, non-stuffy company, so we went for drinks, saw Sweeney Todd, and then...yes, went for more drinks. It was fun, only pretty much every time I'm out with people I feel like they must be just waiting for me to finish talking because I sound like such a self-absorbed stooge. The consciousness of my own discomfort would, you might think, be enough to keep my tongue wagging rather minimally, but no. Oh, no, I must talk at length about things that I really had no intention of saying, because people (especially people I like) make me nervous and I can't control the drivel that I emit. So then I have a couple-few sips on my drink to calm down, and at the next pause in conversation, out spews more crap! Now with added tipsy rambling action! It's awesome.
In other news of the retard I am apparently trying to be, do you know what the parents of the nineteen-year-old you're dating don't love? Well, one thing is when they wake up and unexpectedly find you in the spare bed because you came over late and missed the last train home. It's also fun to accidentally take the name of their lord in vain when you are startled while making breakfast of their food in their kitchen. Yes, devout Christians love it when you shout "Jesus!" really loudly. It's like he's there.
I keep doing stupid stuff, stupid and much less considerate than I like to see. I'm trying not to try to make other people happy as much as is my wont, but I don't seem to be going about it the right way. I should take some time off from...I don't know. Human interaction? I wonder if I could just take a little trip for a day, alone with Buddha, and see what peace I can find. Plus I think it's time for some delayed New Year's resolutions. Yes. Coming soon, one Tsipa with firmer policies.
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2 comments:
You are definitely NOT one of my Top Five Lamest Friends, so you can't be THAT lame. I love the spew you spill when you can't shut your yap! Also, you know you can always call me--even if it is butt-o'clock in the morning--if you are stranded in Hbo and need a comfy sleeping place. We are, however, currently short on 19 year olds, and I get super pissed if you profane FSM's meaty righteousness.
I have a problem with spewing incoherent babble. At least when you talk, it has a point and a punchline. Fear not, you are loved! XO, me
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