Sunday, Bloody Sunday

BINGO!!!

i stored that up tonight, and didn't get to say it, so i thought i would here.
on the plus side, we (lisa and i) thought up some great stuff to do with our hypothetical bar. stuff so good, i don't want to share with the public. also, some other really interesting stuff happened.

1) walking past some slot machines littered with old men, i caught a whiff of a cologne that either: [a) an ex boyfriend of mine or b) some guy i was snuggly with] had used, and it brought back amazing memories, however vague. i told lisa to go on ahead and find herself a machine, and went back, trying to recapture the scent and maybe get more complete in my nostalgia, but failed. ah well. but it makes me wish that it were socially acceptable to walk around sniffing people, so i could have found the correct elderly gentleman and asked him what he was wearing, for clarification.

2) i thought of something that i wish i could tell someone. you know that feeling you get when you find your own thoughts highly amusing, but you know that you couldn't share them, because they wouldn't be taken correctly? my date-du-jour (hopefully for longer, we'll see) is an ex of mine who, at one time, slept with my (former) best friend. i have an intense urge to say to him, "i'd really love to introduce you to lisa.. i will, but you have to promise you won't be fucking her." this is highly unacceptable. i don't want him to be hurt, as bringing that into conversation inevitably would, opening old, poorly-scabbed-over wounds is rarely pleasant, and also because.. even though i know i don't expect them to be sleeping together, the reason i don't is because lisa would never do that to me, not because date-du-jour wouldn't. not that he would, i just don't trust him.. i can't tell him, however inadvertently, that i don't trust him. it's just not something anyone ever wants to hear from a potential long-term partner. i'll keep that to myself. clarification, i trust him, just not when it comes to who he'll be fucking. Yet.

lisar-isms of the night: bingo dink, gambler's cramp, and "i refuse to hold eye contact with your slot machine, it's pissing me off."

i hate watching her put her money in the machine, and watching it dwindle.. but i love her eternal optimism about life in general. also, glad that my own eternal optimism doesn't extend to gambling.