I feel a bit vile right now.

My stupid friend A. woke me up at 1:30am last night and again at 9:30am this morning. Actually, he had my roommate come into my room and wake me up last night, when I had tried to make it an early evening. I leapt out of bed when she woke me up, actually leapt out of my bed and into the table next to it, clutching my heart through my Pajama's until she turned my light on and I could recognize her face. You don't want to startle me like that. Not if you want me to live.

And then this morning. He called the landline and the cell non-stop until I answered. This is how the conversation went:

Me: What the hell do you want from me? Can I sleep, just once, can I sleep?!?

A.: I had a bad night, it ended in tears. Let's go for a drink.

Me: I don't CARE! I am trying to SLEEP.

A: I need a hug.

Me: For crying outloud, what's wrong?

A: Want to go for brunch?

Me: No!

A: Can I come over? Can I come over and play? I'll bring champagne. The night ened in tears, Partygirl."

Me: Fine.

I hung up the phone and stared at my ceiling, from my bed, and asked myself: Was he sent here to kill me or was it something I did in a previous life that I am paying for now? Why? What did I do to deserve this punishment?

I just want to sleep. I don't think that's much to ask for. Just sleeping hours.

Well, long story short, I end up meeting him at a bar for brunch at 11am, we open the bar - me walking in, to him standing against the bar and yelling, "Partygirl! Over Here! Over here," waving his hands frantically over an imaginery crowd in a bar that held only him, a bartender and a waiter.

We had some Bloody Mary's. I was going to tell you I had 3 drinks, but when I thought about it, we were there for 3 hours, so that's not right. I think we probably had six, because we both had a non-alcoholic beverage in there.

He told his story. He talks a lot. I don't say much, but I laugh a lot. I don't like to give out a whole lot of personal information, even to my best friend. We talked about that today. He talked about it. I thought about it. And then I agreed. He didn't ask me why I do that, so I didn't tell him.

Relationships are funny. I am always interested to see how far different people will take them. I have a friend really pushes me. She pushes me to open up. Sometimes she frustrates me, because it's so hard for me to do and I tend to get frustrated and run. I'm not sure what it is, I am really good with words and I communicate for a living, but sometimes it's hard to speak my own perspective. I guess I just don't like talking about myself, and I was raised to keep family business among family.

The other thought on this friend, is that she has a tendency to invade my boundaries. I don't like that. My boundaries are my boundaries and they will only be slowly crossed by a great love in my life. It's almost as if I keep them there to have them as a way to know when I've met the right person.

A. talked, and these are the things I thought about. I also thought that when it's convenient to him, he pushes me to test my intelligence, to probe my bounrdaries and find out what makes me tick, but he doesn't care enough to finish it. He drops the ball just at the brink of my opening. I wonder if he knows he does this? I wonder if that's why he does it. To allow me to reconcile the question within myself before having to utter an answer outloud, or is that he's just to preoccupied with himself to remain attentive? I think it's the latter.

My head is spinning with this overanalyzation. I am crazy analytical. CRAZY.

So, back to the story. He made me go to brunch, then I made him accompany me to a 2-year olds birthday party. We left the bar, bought some toys and headed to Queens. I didn't tell him we were going to Queens until we caught the cab.

Sometimes you have to use trickery.

Anyway, it turned out to be a great time. We played with babies and had some pigs in a blanket and observed what relatively normal yet cool, well-adjusted adults do. I crushed on a single Dad who's baby was the coolest cat I ever saw - he looked like a little Julian Casablancas and I told him so. I couldn't stop myself from scooping that little cupcake up and staring at his huge baby blues under his mop-top indie rock baby haircut. I had a bigger crush on the baby than the Dad.

I love babies.

So the party was fun and then we left there and headed home, which ended up us in a bar, with him teaching me to text message. And then him arguing with his psycho ex over his phone via text. And me texting and getting to know the cute Irish bartender.

And all that stuff above came into play with the convo. and A. went to leave for a nap and I couldn't. He made me feel bad and even worse, unfinished. Like a bad lay.

So I stayed by myself. And he promised to walk the dog and come back, but I didn't care. All I thought about was, I have nothing to go home to. Nothing. So I may as well stay here with the bartender. Sure, I could have called a friend to come meet me or I could have gone to a friends and just laid on their couch with them and not been bothered, but even the thought of company other than myself or that guy, was stifling.

How did I become this girl? Pining and helpless...moronic.

I stayed at that bar alone for almost two hours. Until my roommate called and talked me out of there for dinner.

And now I am home. Done. Calling it a night and it's just 10PM. Just.

If this were a Freddie Prinze Jr. movie, my prom date would be showing up right about now to surprise me.

previous next