Retroactive Perjury and Dancing On Platforms
I'm so full of different accents, so used to being confounded by local common sense, and being rushed over by languages I have no grounding in, that being close to home is a bit bewildering. I've been feeling a little strange, and not so at home with being home. Or at least I didn't, so I've left for a little while, to break up the return, and re-plant myself as a national. Home again, home again....
Some people are very happy to hear that I've decided to return to school this September; others almost maniacally so. I know that these are supportive responses, but really, come on, it's not like I haven't been doing anything with myself -- world travel is, far as I'm concerned, a grand endeavor, and one that few people really tackle on a significant scale. Pity that I'm unable to really publicly catalogue the skill sets that I've managed to tuck under my rather notched belt over this past year or so.
And now I get to contend with the fact that there are large portions of my life away that will never be shared with the people I love in my more regular life. The compartmentalization that many of my whoring peers have had to deal with--I had designed my immediate life to be exempt from that, while I was at it, and besides the flatmate and a few cordial acquaintances, I didn't really have to keep much secret from that many people. Besides lies of omission, I was relatively free of deliberate falsehoods. Now that I'm home, and out for drinks with old friends--folk that know me quite well indeed--I'm very conscious of the large blanks I have to insert to tell tales of my adventures, and the deliberate misdirection I sometimes have to employ.
Mind you, I'm also debt free, even after all my escapades, so I can't really complain.
In the meantime, killing time before I get back to the business of learning (and how I do love the mnemonic tricks and terrors involved with stuffing my head full of information), I'm back to go-going my bank account back into a respectable health. Shaking my money maker, as it were. I've forgotten how frightfully amusing it can be, surrounded by drunk, horny men, and the absurd things they try and get away with. Now, we're all aware that my boundaries are pretty broad, but things do come at a price, and statements like, "I'll give you sixty to come home with me right now," are frankly ludicrous. Bless them, though, and their fumble-y, slurry ways. At least they try.
In other news, I had sex with a small, pretty, bespectacled geek a few days ago, and I realized, with a bit of a shock, that it had been almost two months since I had had sex with anyone at all.
Horrifying, no?
"In other news, I had sex with a small, pretty, bespectacled geek a few days ago,..." Well, there's hope for us geeks and nerds after all!
Posted by: Bourgeois Nerd | July 19, 2007 at 05:15
Hope? Darling, you're fucking ringers,
Posted by: Note | July 19, 2007 at 11:05
$300?
Posted by: Max | July 19, 2007 at 14:31
LOL-as the wife of a nerd, I can attest that geek boys are some of the most sexually adventuresome, talented, and giving men on the planet-bless their Linux boxes, one and all.
Note-hugs-the editing sucks. I don't understand it in quite the same way, but it sucks when I can't share that my blog made Fleshbot or talk about adventures.
Good luck in school-I just hope you won't dissapear like some of my blog buddies have-I'd miss you
Posted by: Deliciously Naughty | July 19, 2007 at 18:22