Oh hi, internet.
I'd love to tell you everything. Describe each encounter in detail, and then breakdown my thoughts about each. Tell you all my secrets and crazy stories.
But I can't. I never tell anyone everything. I've never even had a journal that I've been completely forthcoming to...
And even my intention with this page is not to treat it like a journal, though sometimes I'm tempted to dish like it is. All too often I feel like I can't sort things out until I write about them. And sometimes I just have a good story to share. Sometimes I have a weekend like this last one.
I can tell you about the homeless woman who started talking to us in Northstar Coffee on Saturday, got mad when she decided we were talking bad about "bums on the floor" (which we weren't, we were discussing my broken sunglasses) and chased us out of the place and followed us for a block saying some nasty things and then came within an inch of assaulting us. We were shaken up for the next little while, and the adrenaline rush was even stronger than when I get intentionally knocked down on the soccer field.
I can admit to you how fun it was to not be the one driving all afternoon and into the evening as we went from the Seafood Festival to cocktail hour at Jodie's and then downtown... I always decide to be the driver and not be drinking that much and have the freedom to drive myself wherever I get the urge to go... it was actually freeing to just rely on other people and have one more beer. Maybe three more.
I don't think I'll tell you my whole thought process after having a friend of a friend, whom we'd hung out with for about two hours downtown late at night, tell me, "You are extremely hot... but can I give you a couple pointers?" And then basically say that I send my flirtacious energy and hot vibes to just my girl friends, and that I keep it from going out to guys and people I don't know. I will say that I know what he's talking about, but I also know some people who would beg to differ with him...guess it depends on the situation. Still figuring that out.
I'm not going to share the story of what happened when a fellow Westmont alum I vaguely remembered approached me ten minutes after the above conversation and three sentences into chatting asked me to help him out by letting him spend the night at my house. If you had asked me earlier that day how a situation like that was going to turn out, I don't think I would have predicted it accurately.
Finally, I will share that if a guy speaks Spanish and some French, has traveled a lot and takes lovely photos of his journeys AND gives me tasty orange juice late on a lazy Sunday morning, it will be the push that I need to spread said "flirtacious energy" around to someone other than my girl friends or people I only know really well.
Okay, that's enough sharing.