Thursday, December 21, 2006

How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? According to the owl, it only takes 3. How many glasses does it take to get to the bottom of a wine bottle? I guess I'll find out tonight because I can't get the cork back in and I don't want to waste the wine. I didn't even buy it, but I still don't want to let it go to waste. That's alcohol abuse.

Tonight, while I was cooking, I thought about the last big event I attended in college. It was called, "The Sip" - a huge party where everyone dressed up and looked classy for the first half of the evening, until the champagne corks were popped. After everyone started drinking, it was a free-for-all. Tim was the president of the frat at that time and I sat at his table. I was alone. I had a boyfriend, but he wasn't there. He let me go to an event looking extra sexy surrounded by fine men in suits, and he wasn't there. I wanted him there. I had a good time, but I wanted him there still. That night I saw my first college crush. He graduated a couple of years before, but he was in town that weekend and decided to come to the party. I went out in the hall for a break during the dancing and he was there and we started talking. I was shocked that he still remembered me. He told me he always liked me. I remember the day I told my friends about this fine man who sat next to me in class my freshman year. He had a lot of hair at the time and I called him Maxwell. He told me he always liked me. It felt so surreal. He always liked me. I was a little tipsy, but I was very coherent. I knew what was happening. He always liked me and I liked him too. It was weird that I saw him that night when I wanted my boyfriend to be there with me. I don't believe in coincidences. That night was a defining moment for me. It helped confirm some things. I saw him again a year later when I went back for graduation.

I don't know what made me think of that, but I had a good time at that party. That horrible summer was bookended by that night and my departure to New York.

I want a scalp massage. It doesn't feel the same when I do it. I went to a few male hairstylists before, and the best part of the experience was when they washed my hair. I don't want to pay anyone to do it now. I think Trent washed my hair before, but I'm not sure. I remember washing his hair, but I can't remember if he did mine. He always took care of me. He still does when he's available.

I don't know if I really had a point in writing this tonight. I'm on my third glass, and I'm finding it hard to keep my head up. It's resting on my shoulder as I type. I think there's enough for half a glass left in the bottle, but I can't drink it. I'm retyping every other word as it is. I'm going to sleep soundly tonight.

It takes 3.5 glasses to get to the bottom of a wine bottle.

I had 2 songs in my head today. One of them was Bonie Raitt's song that is below. I'll choose the other.

I am not forgotten.
I am not forgotten.
I am not forgotten.
God knows my name.
He knows my name.


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