Zoe's going to cover my Saturday morning shift, which is fantastic news for my liver and the enjoyability of Jenny's party this Friday. Not saying that it would be boring without alcohol--Jenny is anything but boring--but having to wake up at 5:00am the next day with a vodka headache would not be fun at all. So thank you Zoe.
Little Zoe is back in town. She turned 19 while we worked together, when I was still 23 and found the age gap irrelevant, and for some reason being 24 makes me feel ten times older than her. I've also changed a lot since I last saw her. She came over after my closing shift to smoke a joint and catch up. She's been in Portland since about August. I've finally settled on a plan for my future. She seems so young, but like I always thought she also has such a good outlook on life that she really seems to have her shit together. She's back living with her mom now after giving Portland City College the old college try, planning instead to start at the San Francisco Art Academy this fall. She'll be here for the summer. She's pretty much exactly the same as I remember her, just with longer hair. Still orange-red. The same quick-witted humor and pessimistic contentment with reality. It was fun smoking with her, laughing as she sat in the windowsill and I cross-legged on the bed, reminiscing about Old Soul, sharing our successes. It makes me glad we had those few months last year to get to know each other. Zoe is just a lot of fun to be around, sort of like Michelle was when I worked with her at Aromas. I didn't sense any romantic notions between us, despite the general unspoken male-female curiosity that I think everyone has, these flashes of What If's. But what I think we have here is fine just where it is. I want Zoe to just be my friend, like Meredith or Bronwyn or Stephanie.
I feel like I've broken the friendship I had with Katie. Part of me thinks it's my fault because I took her reaction from an earlier incident and made it a problem. I assumed she was growing attached to me in a way that I hadn't intended, or that I couldn't reciprocate honestly, and so I backed away to give her time to think. The last thing we said in the car was, "Think about it." So maybe the space between us is my doing entirely, or maybe it was mutual. Either way, she's been inquiring about watching LOST again soon and I'm honestly too busy this week to find time to hang out with her. So she asked me what was wrong and I told her that I'd never wanted a relationship and wanted to back off before disappointing her by not being something she thought that I was. She's going to see Edward Sharpe this weekend and if I had the money and didn't open on Sunday, I totally would've gone with her. But things are little strange now. She didn't like my reply and I'm pretty sure she's feeling a little manipulated, which sucks completely because I wasn't doing anything more than being exactly who I am, or feeling anything I wasn't really feeling.
Kirsten stopped by work to get my keys and pick up a few things from my room. Kinda feels like having an ex-girlfriend move out, since she knows I've got feelings for Jenny and, as I told her, "that makes it hard up here," as I pointed to my head. She understands. She's got her date tomorrow and she's nervous. "He's either going to kill me or sweep me off my feet," she said. I wish her the best. She attached to me because the sex was great and the conversation never staled. The good facets of a relationship without the relationship. But she really needs a solid figure, not some barista renting a room in Midtown with commitment issues.
Elsewhere: Drew has officially gotten his short story journal project up and running. Shaun had a date tonight and I told him he should go to Hot Italian. I'm trying to decide if I should sleep in tomorrow or try to go back to Zuda yoga to take advantage of my 10 for 10 deal or just let it slide away. I'm still sore from yesterday's session, so maybe a bit more rest wouldn't hurt.
- Left to Fry
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