Saturday, March 19, 2005


I suppose what I was trying to say in the previous post was: Had we relegated our relationship to "super-great-dating-fun," it would've been trivialized.

But most importantly, I would've been trivialized knowing my motivations had always been envy, not lust. So for refusing to give up my freedom to become a person presumably devoid of nuance, I remain eternally single.

(Although not exactly a cause for celebration, somehow this no-pressure pressure is getting me more schwing attention than before. Psychology works in mysterious ways.)


FYI: Neighbours are playing Shania Twain next door. Despite their daily domestic disputo(s) and Wisteria-Lane-meets-Brandeen-McBoobly behaviour, I think they're really a couple of demure shymeisters. Not an unusual case in this lovely building affectionately known as the "projects."

Picture junior high gangsta in full battle gear - oversized jersey with plastic bling, looking like the token white guy in Eminem's crew - succeeding in picking up some heavily made-up pinkosaur (see: removable rosecea) named Angie by the lobby doors using Joey's line from FRIENDS. That, alone, makes me want to move.

Aye chingala, I need a change of scenery.

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