I came home completely exhausted, barely able to stand up for the shower I so desperately needed. I met Angie and Jen at Max's. I didn't want to stay at Max's because people were packed in there so tightly raising a glass would involve the jaws of life. We went to John Steven, Ltd. for sushi, which was good, but the highlight of the whole evening was just the walking to the bars. There were more interesting people on the streets than in the bars. Angie begged us to go to Little Italy, which is a nice part of town, probably too nice.

The one bar that was still open at 12:30 on a Saturday night was Aldo's, wherein we found a whole group of snotty people in ties and evening dresses. I really don't get men who willingly wear ties outside of the office. Of course, I don't get ties in the first place. They have to be the most ridiculous garments in the world. And Aldo's charges $8 for a Glenlivet, in a glass smaller than the $4 Glenlivet I had at JS. It's probably an effort to pay for the "atmosphere" of the place, which I thought was horrible. A bunch of snotty socialites with their noses in the air and mouths foul enough to make a group of sailors blush.

Today I dragged Vince all over Laurel Mall in search of the perfect pair of sandals, which I thought I had found until I saw the $46 price tag. They're strappy sandals, with very little man-made material involved - I really don't think they're worth $46! This event did, however, sufficiently answer Vince's question of why I insist on shopping at Payless. Sure, they may not last as long, but I usually grow tired of shoes after a while anyway. So I bought one pair of shoes, and Vince got a really nice - and really, really heavy - entertainment center. I helped him put it together because I love putting things together, then we watched a riveting episode of The X-Files.

Martin came over when he got off work, and now I really wished I hadn't invited him. It's something about those damn South American men. Maybe it's the accent, maybe it's the whole "hot Latin lover" cliche, I don't know. Maybe it's just that he has the nicest eyes known to man. I am so attracted to him. He will, of course, never know that. Right now, he just knows I think he's cute and seems like a nice guy, and that I don't want to date. I'm a great friend, but I suck at being a girlfriend.

He is really cute, though. Thankfully, Tuesday is his last day with the city police. Something about having him sitting in this parking lot across the street, visible from this window next to the computer, is a bit unnerving. I just want to look over there and see that face, knowing that it sparks little fantasies that I don't want in my life right now. Especially about a cop. I've heard so many horror stories from so many people, I have to believe at least some of these cliches are true. They're liars, they're unfaithful, they hang out with prostitutes. I already know about the police brotherhood and the "protect your own" attitude.

But sitting here, talking with him and looking at those eyes (those cursed eyes!), I couldn't help but think my first instinct about him was good. Still, I watched South Park the other night for the first time in a long time, and I can relate to the little girl who fell for Kenny. "Hold me, Lenny [as she called him].... no, I don't want to get attached... but I do like you... but you'll only leave me."

Maybe I should follow Zach's [link has since died] lead and have a therapist look at this journal.