Media, Men

Song in my head for the past bunch of days:

I finally watched the new Star Trek movie. That's some super high quality nerdiness. The graphics and everything were so amazing, it's hard to imagine 20 years from now we'll look back on it and roll our eyes or laugh at its campiness, but then you look at the original Star Wars movies and those were revolutionary when they came out. Still, it was fabulously refreshing to see things that didn't look like "The Future" always looks. Not just slight variations or improvements on what we have or are doing now, but bigger jumps and random side-steps so it's not all flying cars and giant computers and robots that do the dishes.
In short, awesome movie.
So good I didn't spend the entire time wishing I was smooching on Possible Boy, with whom I was watching said movie, on his couch, under his blanket. Ugh. For the first time in my life, all these boys want in my pants. There's an argument to be made for "getting my numbers up" while I'm young and spry. Let go. Make stories. Experience life. How many girls would kill for even a kiss from Ken? Beetle's brother invited me over last night while his roommate was out and I doubt his intentions were entirely pure and friendly. Dijon's compliments stopped feeling so friendly and safe. And I suspect even Possible Boy would be more than happy to screw my brains out if there weren't emotions involved.
But there are emotions involved.
Pesky, pesky emotions. I want in boys' hearts, not just their pants. Reciprocal hearty likeyness, which seems to be particularly difficult. No more of these stupid chains of he likes me but I like this other guy who likes this other girl who likes another guy who likes yet another girl. This is what I get for hanging out among the Lonely. Birdie said it really well the other day: the Boys I like and I are deeply and profoundly lonely, but we will also do anything within our power to make sure we stay that way.

Today, I made myself a schedule for my amorphous daily life. It has everything from eating meals to working on long-term projects to taking my pills to writing in my blog (scheduled for now). I missed the whole afternoon chunk because I took a rainy-day coma nap, but I still got tons more done than I have been and it felt good to have direction and something to turn to and say "what's next?" Also, I forget things and get distracted so easily these days. Yay schedule.

I'm hungry again. I made real food for dinner, but I guess I didn't eat enough of it. Must drag dog out for final pre-bed walk.

I know Possible Boy will read this. It makes me pause before writing, then I write what I was going to write anyway. Totally honest. Dammit, why couldn't things have worked out? Maybe NBF, my therapist and 99% of humanity are right: I need a better filter, one can't be totally honest, The Game is important, etc., etc. I tried to play, but I suck at it and don't like it. I just need more practice, maturity, acceptance, or some other adjective I don't quite believe right now.

Seriously. Stop writing. Eat something.