Wake Me Up, Before You Go-Go

I'm exhausted. For the next few days I don't want to do anything.

I don't want to drink, I don't want to dance, I don't want to work, I don't want to go out, I don't want to cook or bake, I don't even really want to see anyone.

Classes are starting on the 25th, and I think I should start winding down from the summer and get ready to wrestle down the daily grind.

Besides, there are still a few big events coming up: Divebar Disco III is August 30, my birthday dinner/karaoke is September 30, my party is October 4, and hopefully my New Year's plans work out for the end of December. I have only so much energy left to divide between class, work, and parties that I don't need to add anything else to my plate.

Also, I decided that I'm not going to drink much anymore. I don't have a high tolerance for alcohol, and to be honest, I'm proud of that. It seems ridiculous to desire a high tolerance to a substance that in the end will destroy one's bodily organs, memory and cognitive functioning in general, nervous system, and consequently, one's personal life as well.

After my 21st birthday I anticipate drinking mainly at Stavros events, and only enough to get buzzed. Binge drinking is what I need to eliminate.

I've also been trying to cut back on pot so I can focus on getting ready for classes. I still have to buy an extremely overpriced parking decal for campus and purchase my textbooks.

Last night Lindsey, Albert and I went to The Kennedy for Clique, a Wednesday event that Stavros was booked for. Most of the places they DJ don't have marquees, so Justin was excited to see their name on display for once.

This place was incredibly swanky, but in a strange way. It was decorated very nicely, very high end, but the wallpaper behind the liquor shelving at the bar was composed of posters of the Misfits, the English Beat, the Clash - which all are ironically opposed to the general atmosphere of the place, which had valet parking and a big, intimidating-looking doorman. From what I understand, The Kennedy usually has a dress code, but to increase their business on weeknights when their regular clientele are still working or sleeping because they have to work early, they eliminate it and bring in DJ's. I felt a little out of my league, but had a great time nonetheless.

I had foreseen myself not dancing last night because I was so tired, but I can't resist (even if I wanted too) Lindsey's energy beckoning me out to the floor. I just didn't put as much effort into it that I normally would.

And, as expected, Mr. LTA was there. He asked me what was up with the text message I sent him (referring to the really bitchy one). I told him I was drunk and didn't remember sending it, which is true. He told me I should have slept on Justin's couch and he feels bad for allowing me to leave, but what does it matter? I'm alive, I'm safe.

Anyway, in the event that he's still interested in me, he apparently is confused about how to show it. He makes sure that he singles me out to say hello and goodbye to me, and aside from that, the brief conversation about the text message, and his noticing that I was out of water and getting another for me, he ignored me.

While this may have worked to catch my attention in the past, it does nothing to sway me now, and any time he chooses not to talk to me I choose to let go of that potentially awkward conversation and have fun.

What would be more beneficial to him is either a) ask me to dance, making his intentions clearer; or b) let me go, and rid the both of us of this perplexing, unnecessary situation.

I figured I'd leave it up to him so that I don't have to take the initiative or energy to devise a solution.

Someone fill me in when it's over.