Friday Nights Are Better Spent ((In The Comfort Of Your Own Home))

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I am completely over being social // people in general // drinking // bar culture // loud spaces // weird vibes

((says the girl who has tickets to see 3 bands play tomorrow night and will (most likely) drink a beer (or two) at the show))

((says the girl who will probably cave and say yes to plans when her friends call her in an hour))

if we aren’t completely contradicting ourselves are we really alive?? (self-edit: feel like that’s too much of a jaden smith type thought/tweet)

anyway.

things have been weird, man.

I have been going out far too often and being social too much to the point where I’m completely spent on human interaction. I am not trying to be or sound like the typical internet introvert, all woe-is-me-people-are-annoying but seriously, lock me up and throw away the key, I don’t care. just leave a pile of books and a coffee maker and I’ll be alright.

I went out the other night with a guy I’m dating and a man sat at the table and told us he had a big house with booze and netflix – an attempt at engaging us to see if we wanted to hang out after the bar closed.

“you can drink,” he said, staring hard at my date, then at me. “you can even have sex.”

my date and I were just kind of quiet for a minute because WTF??? until I said, “yeahhh, no one’s going to be having sex.”

he became immediately embarrassed and apologized. “you remind me of someone I used to know. I feel like I know you and yet, I know I don’t know you at all.” he apologized again to me and then to my date and walked away.

a big house. booze. netflix. sex. is this the way we get roped into group sex in this generation?

my Uber driver offered me a bottle of water when I got in his car and played Selena on the 7 minute ride home. my head was spinning and my throat was dry but I didn’t want to take the free water because I had never had an Uber driver offer me anything before and I’ve seen CSI and the whole night seemed weird and like a dream. I came home and chugged a bottle of Figi then laid down and spent 20 minutes waiting to see if there was anyone interesting was online I could talk to but there wasn’t so I fell asleep in my dress clutching my phone.

I remember the Friday summer nights of my adolescence when I lived on a farm and the closest town was 30+ minutes away and I’d stay up late watching Love Line and Undressed and horror movies or whatever sort of soft porn I could find until my eyes became heavy and there was only the soft hum of the TV on in the background and the owls in the trees and the frogs in the creek. it was isolating and lonely and satisfying and comforting in the way nights spent alone on the weekend often can be.

sometimes I miss those nights when there was nothing but the darkness and the wild in the distance. sometimes I wonder how I can get back there ((to the darkness)) ((to the wild)).

sometimes, sometimes…