Yummy

Tonight I went to...well, salsa practice. I realize that saying it that way makes it sound kind of gay, and at the same time makes me picture little kids in soccer uniforms piling out of minivans, but it was actually pretty chill, and super helpful. I got to work on my moves a lot, and many that I had forgotten came back via muscle memory. Finding these moves is like diving under water in pitch black darkness to find your keys. Actually, its not. I have no other use for that simile, though.

Despite accidentally sending the text "Andrea hot bar girl" to Meryl last week, I have continued my habit of texting girls' names to myself. Tonights notes:

-End philly favorite with hook turn
-right turn behind the back but instead of switching hands, duck at the end
-2 (double) hair caresses from right2right over left2left -- one involves girl right turn first
-russian = marena
-candy


Yeah. She said her name was Candy. I'm not even going to bother coming up with a silly nickname, because she's already named Candy. That is awesome by the way. Although it reminds me of how I met Krist--never mind. Maybe I'll call her Twizzler in my head. Or gummy bear. Yeah. You're welcome for that. Sexy Skittle. Hot Tamale. Hot Chocolate--although she's not black. White Chocolate? Vanilla chocolate. Vanilla is so much better than chocolate. Man...I can't think of--well fruit rollups, tootstie pops. Blow pops...Blowpop. I would have to very sure about who I texted that one to. Anyway. She is hot. While we were dancing I thought there was a ring on her finger. Then I later realized that my left is her right. You'd think I'd figure that out after three years of actually trying to dance, but I've made this mistake before. I think I'm gonna have to suspend all calls to isEngaged() in my head until I'm off the dance floor.

Oh man, that reminds me of the time Gina told some guy at a club that the ring on her right finger was her engagement ring from her Egyptian boyfriend to make him leave her alone...which is how I found out she wasn't giving up med school to move to Italy to live in a Castle with some guy whose Dad owned a famous banking chain. That was also the same night two girls deliberately bumped into me and...lets just say that belongs of my list of Oblivious Fails. Damnit that is a long list. Oh and this girl Erin from Manayunk Brew pub also goes on that list. But I digress.

My attempts to run into Red Shirt girl have so far...well I haven't run into her. All this effort recently and what I have to show for it includes...knowing the names of some girls I barely know, and a few salsa moves. I guess thats good. Not enough to make my mom stop telling me about these dating sites she hears about. I mean, I'd love to join them, except my experience with cragislist and okcupid has been terrible, and all those pay sites play horrible commercials during my favorite tv shows, and those horrible commercials always show these models hooking up that I bet don't look anything like the people on the dating sites. Plus, I'm still a little skeptical about there being any girls on the internet at all. I mean, do we really know? Plus, Kate Beckinsale is already married. Ok I'm not actually sure how thats related.

[random things that have been bouncing around in my head]
You know...just in case anyone missed hearing me say weird stuff at random intervals. So I'm thinking about getting slightly more serious about visiting Russia. I bought a tiny book about Russia. Apparently Kiev is in Ukraine, not Russia. Who knew? I'm a gummy bear. Yes I'm a gummy. I'm yummy chummy funny lucky--sorry. I'm still listening to that song. Anyway, I also want to start having parties here. Oh man I had so much more to say--like about how I just read The Gunslinger by Stephen King, and this thing at work that I'm not allowed to talk about--but I am so bored writing this. Well, whatever. I'm thinking about writing romance novels. I have no interest in them, because they appear to be composed of all of the elements of a book or movie that I always ignore, such as people's feelings, and superfluous sex scenes (yeah, I said it. I don't like sex scenes that serve no purpose--they should stay on the internet where they belong). However...I was pacing around in my office (its shared) trying to avoid work, and realized that of all the various genres, romantic novels probably have the best kind of fan base. As in, mostly girls. This is partly inspired by a Questionable Content subplot. I was thinking I would put like a code in the book, like that xkcd geohashing function, so that the smartest of my fans would figure out the code and somehow get a chance to date me. So maybe next time I'm in a book store I'll pick up a romance novel and try to get through a whole paragraph. Thats actually the problem with this idea--if I can't stand reading the genre, how could I write it?

Maybe it could be a super geeky romance novel. "The freckled redhead slid the memory card in, further, futher into the robot. The round sets of LEDs in hits head switched to a dull red--the LED color of passion." And then Jane said "thats why I never kiss 'em on the mouth."

Ok. Maybe not. It was just an idea. If you, like me, still have the gummy bear song in your head this may help. Oh NIN...makes me want to make out with a girl wearing a hoodie with thumbholes in the sleeves. And makes me want to learn the piano better.

What have I become...my sweetest friend...everyone I know goes away
In the end

I'm tired of looking in the past and seeing what went wrong--but whats the alternative? Keep gazing off into the future? I did too much of that too--missed out on a lot. I don't really know how to live in the moment either. I mean, right now I'm sitting cross-legged on the ikea chair that I hoped would force me to learn to sit up straight (fat chance) banging my knee against the desk in rythm to the super depressing song I'm playing because it reminds me of someone that I know I'm better off trying to forget, all while I type in a retarded journal whose most faithful reader is me, trying to ignore the pain in my right wrist because I don't want to go to bed yet because I know in final moment before I go to sleep I will want to think about someone I like and there is no one left to think about. This isn't exactly the kind of moment I want to treasure. Except for how long that sentence was. Last night I may have dreamed about a swimming pool. Hmmmmm. That girl on House said life is a serious of rooms. I don't know. Maybe I'll come up with an answer tomorrow during my lunch break.

Seriously I can't believe her name is Candy. Who names their kid Candy?