Act natural

( Sunday, Sept. 08, 2002 11:54 pm )

>Tolerable I suppose

I'm having another "imaginary song brain suck" moment, which is when one or two lines of a song I've heard, perhaps, once, taunts me with my inability to assign it its proper title and artist, and hence potentially download it. OK, so I'm pretty sure it goes "do you really know/ how to dance?/ I wanna hold your hand/ at a dance." Predictably, only Beatles lyrics come up when I search. I like the sentiment, anyway. I DO want to hold your hand at a dance, you have no idea how much.

Anywaaays, Juney's parents were here this weekend, and I toured around with them because I don't know how to say no and I also like being treated to dinner. I don't like following parents (mine, or others') brainlessly across miles of glaring hot white sidewalks to places I've already exhausted myself visiting less than three weeks ago. Also, Juney's dad crosses streets like a maniac. I was nearly hit by a police car today while in my walking-trance. I guess I was in better spirits yesterday. We all went out to dinner in Chinatown, and ate delicious things, and I scalded the roof of my mouth with hot soup, which I actually enjoy, though I would find it difficult to explain why. The restaurant was dominated by two large TVs. The sound was off, but both were suspended over the dining room playing a show titled something like Penn Medical Crisis Operating Theater or some damn thing--the operation channel! Nothing I like better than watching surgery. (Not). After that was over, some sort of program came on featuring M. Night Shama-whatever and an Australian town overrun by mice. You know what, if the TV is on in a restaurant, I'm just mesmerized.

I also felt proud yesterday because I discovered a desk at a tag sale that I knew would be perfect for Juney. And sure enough, she bought it. In other Juney furniture news, remember how her sister offered to bring me their bureau? Well, Juney suddenly decided she wanted it, in the manner of a child who only wants to play with something because somebody else has it, even though she already owns the outstanding $19 Dresser. Whatever. But her parents complimented her dresser and told her that it would be really spectacular sanded and stained (exactly what I said, because I am like Bob Vila) so predictably she doesn't want her sister's bureau anymore.

Can you tell I'm feeling annoyed with Juney? It's not a real credit to me that I feel this way, but I think it's mainly due to the fact that we spend every waking moment together, and I'm just not wired to do that. I don't know what it is about me that I have a certain reserve of social skills that slowly gets depleted. I just shut down after it's gone and get all crabby and lose the ability to talk in sentences. I am trying not to act that way anymore becuase it seems to me it's quite immature and I should learn to be able to hold conversations even when I'd rather spend several hours alone recharging with the saga of dear old Lizzy and Mr. Daaaaaaarcy. It also disgusts me that I'm older than Lizzy now. But still not older than Jane!

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