So much chili, only one spoon

There are two women in my life. They are respectively, Opera Girl and the tall blonde (this is what she wrote on the napkin she gave me her number on, right beneath her full name). You may be confused as to how Opera girl is in my life. Well I told her to stop by at the restaurant I've been bartending insane hours at sometime. Quite unexpectedly she stopped by that very evening after she finished at the restaurant she was working at. As you can imagine, this was quite late and very shortly we left the restaurant together. We rode the train together and we got to the stop where I ought to have gone my my merry way, I got off to wait with her for her train to come (because I'm such a gentleman). Of course, we were mid sentence when the train came and she just walked on without pause. I followed. The end. Sorta.

This may be the first year of my life that I've had relationships that operated for the most part on my terms. Opera girl is back in my life, but the tall blonde has not departed either. They both now fall under the unwieldy label of "friends with benefits," something that I negotiatied seperately and without coercion with both of them. We agreed that we are wrong for each other in many ways, the blonde because she has such a different lifestyle and interests in life, and Opera girl, because we want very different things from life and think of love and meaning in very different ways. We (I and the two girls seperately) also agreed however that we could continue to see each other, the blonde because we have absolutely INSANE sexual chemistry, and Opera girl, because we really like each other despite our end differences. Opera girl said something to the effect of, "I'm just hanging out, you know, none of this is really that serious at the moment," and that is the constellation under which we can be found making out.

As to the mystery of the tall blonde and I's incompatibility, here it is. We were two seperate people in a relationship together. We talked past each other, even as we made all the motions of a relationship. About the only thing that was totally honest between us was our physicality. I knew and she knew (as I discovered when I finally started talking to her properly) that we weren't communicating about anything actually worth knowing. Somewhere after that initial burst of warmth that accompanies meeting someone you like and really like to fuck, we both warily raised our guards and simply stopped talking to one another. Petulance on her part and the initial blame on me, she said and I agreed. I had raised my walls. Things about her and her lifestyle bothered me, but being extremely averse to criticizing people, I simply kept them to myself and started to speak les and less about things. When finally, desperate to end things (or at least in the form they were), but unable to do it because doing so required us to already be in communication, I asked gingerly, "so is this working for you?" her replies were filled with a relief the Middle East could sure use right now. Nothing worse than being a lonely person in a relationship, except being two lonely people in a relationship. I guess I half knew that she might have felt the same way I did, but I couldn't be certain and so I held back in trepidation at having to possibly end something that she was excited about and being the bad guy. After enough whining to you fine blog reader folks, and endless sighs and proclamations on my part, I got around to just talking to her, and hallelujah, everything is cool now. She still wants to jump my bones and I actually dream of the things I'd like to do to her, but we no longer have to pretend that that's enough to keep an irrrational relationship going.

So sweet, sweet Maria, things are good. At least on the female front. There's always something else to bitch about. For example I'm working 90 thousand hours a week at this restaurant that I actually really like, and I'm doing that instead of writing my thesis. That's partially good, cause now I've got an income again, but bad because I'm not writing the thesis that this income is supposed to be supporting.

I'd like to keep on writing this never ending post but it's 3.20am and I worked about 15 hours today. Blame the run on sentences and general tone of this post on that fatigue. Let me know what you think of my arrangements if you want. I'll be back with more news about life and stuff. Good night.