Deeper

So Dave K. is getting married. Married. Right after I was just pointing out the family's building to Amanda. I mean, let's be serious, I haven't seen this kid in years. Obviously I had gotten over it... or thought I did. I guess I always kept the fantasy where he came crawling back to me, on hand and knee, ring in towe... It's like Sher put it, you feel a part of you go away.

MARRIED.

WHY IS EVERYONE BUT ME MOVING ON?!

This wouldn't be half as bad if I had at least found someone of my own.

Am growing impatient with the male sex. We went out the other night, met no one but losers and men with no real jobs. Every man in New York is an "actor" (Translation: He has a few headshots and mails them to0 advertising agencies for commercials) or a "model" (Translation: He takes those same head shots and mails them to modeling agencies) or in "film." (Translation: He has a video camera.)

Ash and Sher nearly got killed but a raving drunk who broke the window in our faces at the Mars Bar. Crazy. We now know never to knock on bar windows.

Have got to thinking about my life ingeneral and my relationships indeed towards men and how I handle it. Why is it that someone else's happiness always calls attention to your own unhappiness and possible reasons for it? Maybe I am too materialistic for reasons of my own self-doubt and fear of being satisfied and loved. But you know, I do want to be adored simply for myself. But how do you find that, exactly? Surely it doesn't come in a Fendi bag and a box of Godivas every holiday.

Something deeper, more real.

I got to get out of here. I'm bored, like waiting at the dock for this ship to leave. Or to come in?