Poison & Wine.

This is what I know: people’s hopes go on forever.” – Junot Diaz

I am back at home tonight, sad to have left my friends in Austin, but grateful for the quiet a night in provides.

I found my last night there to be particularly memorable. My friend and I went to this bar where I was hell-bent on chilling the fuck out and enjoying some whiskey. Earlier in the day, I had sent red-flagged-New York an e-mail. I explained that I was intentionally trying to sabotage things, because I didn’t want him to like me. I didn’t want to go any further. He reminded me of too much, and it was a mindfuck I wasn’t willing to revisit. I didn’t owe him an explanation, truthfully, but I have a strong tendency of getting the last word in. My brain is very smart in the way that it tells me, “Amanda – don’t. You don’t need to… Hey. Hey. HEY! Are you listening? Don’t you do it. DON’T FUCKING DO IT,” and then I just do it anyway. So I left it as, I thought, you’re probably someone’s cup of tea but not mine, friends would be super but you’d probably be a bad one, you have my number, reach out if you want. fin.”

And then he texted me, “I’M SORRY THAT YOU’RE LIKE IN LOVE WITH ME OR SOMETHING,” and I was like, “YOU ARE THE DEVIL AND I HATE YOU,” and then seven hours later he was referencing something from my e-mail, which I didn’t understand so I called him AND HE ANSWERED, and I was about three drinks in, so in the time span of a minute I said, “Look, I am obviously busy and you sound like you’re busy too,” to which he replied, “Let’s talk tomorrow when you get home,” and I said, “I won’t be home until 7,” and he said, “That’s fine.”

(Sidenote: I sent a text this evening that said, “I am back. Can you talk?” and he said, “Not right now.” And I said, “Word.” Because fuck that guy. I let my last word BE word. Because I am well-adjusted and amazing.)

Another sidenote: To all the women (and like the one dude, probably my brother) out there who are thinking to themselves, “Why would you even entertain this asshat?” I have a long track record of entertaining asshats, and old habits die hard. I am working on this habit,¬†diligently, everyday.

So. Yes. I drank more whiskey, and it was fantastic. I listened to live music, which I feel like I haven’t truly absorbed in forever. There was this band that was really great, and by a strange turn of events, some dude bought me their CD. I wasn’t WASTEYPANTS, of course, but today I had a good long laugh about the futility of getting a CD when everything I listen to at this point is digital. Life in the 21st century, yo.

I danced, and laughed, and sang, and had a genuinely great time. I feel like some long-lost version of me is finally developing in the darkroom.

I have more to write about life, love and the pursuit of happiness, but I am also exhausted. Perhaps tomorrow.

Have a good night, everyone. Be kind to yourselves. And use more words like wasteypants. For my sake.

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