Marguerite, Amanda, Virginia and I were in the kitchen of Marguerite's building getting drunk. I was at that swimmy stage that I am such a big fan of.
It was a conversation filled with revelations. I didn't know that everyone in the room was aware of what had happened between Matt and I last summer. I sort of felt that it was a secret, of sorts, between Matt and I. I mean, it wasn't something we agreed should be a secret, but I worried, even though I was almost always pushing Matt away, how Virginia would feel. I didn't want her to get hurt. She's so nice, she deserves better than getting hurt.
And yet, pretty much everyone had already heard what had happened. Well, sort of. They heard Matt's side of the story, which wasn't so much inaccurate, it just lacked my feelings. Which obviously Matt doesn't know in full.
From what I could gather from the conversation it seems like everyone in the room sided with me anyway, which, in other circumstances, would surprise me. But when I saw Erin in March, she mentioned something that happened between Marguerite and Matt that changed the way everyone looked at Matt, and not for the better.
"What's his new girlfriend like?" I asked, out of curiosity. "Genie?" I was struggling for her name.
"Genevieve," Marguerite said. Amanda and Marguerite both seemed to think she was utterly boring and cowed. The sort of girl who didn't appear to have a thought for herself.
I always thought that stereotype of nice girls who were nothing but nice being the thing guys date when they have nothing better to date was just a stereotype. And yet I keep finding evidence of it. I wonder about these girls, since they strike me as mystical creatures. Are they real? Are they really just good at covering up anything even mildly disagreeable about themselves? Do boys really love them, or do they just love the ego boost? How does this affect the dating prospects of women who refuse to change themselves for a man or men in general?
After all this time of hearing about Genevieve, I still haven't met her. Part of this is because I haven't sought Matt out, but part of this may be because this group of friends has mostly kicked Matt out. (The Marguerite/Matt thing being the ultimate cause.) I find myself curious about her. Is she really that boring? Or is it possible she's just shy? I have a terrible affinity for shy women. I like to talk to them, especially when no one else is. I like to try to coax something out of them.
(It's been my experience that the best way to get something out of these women can't really happen on a one encounter sort of thing but multiple encounters. Some of the most interesting women I've known are women who don't usually talk to others, but who eventually talk to me.)
Virginia told us about her new beau, Nick. He sounds nice, and it sounds like he makes her happy. I hope he doesn't treat her weirdly like the last one.
After we had been sitting down there for a while, mostly talking about boys, a group of people came down. Among others, Jonathan and Zack were among them. I don't really know either of those boys that well, but they're nice. Zack had what was possible his beau, who like Zack, was really skinny.
(Again, what is with this skinny boy thing? I don't like it.)
Zack's friend had red wine, and he poured me a glass. Which I promptly spilled on myself, and was totally embarrassed and felt like a slob. (Why do these things happen when I'm with people and not when I'm alone and no one can see me?)
"Rut-ro," he said, imitating Scooby Doo.
I raced upstairs to the nearest bathroom. I was wearing this new coat that I had gotten (and loved) that was that was a tan/khaki color. The red wine had turned purple, the same kind of purple that happened when someone gets punched in the eye. I desperately tried to wash it out, and was mostly successful. There was still a spot on it.
After proving myself so incompetent with holding a glass, I went downstairs and said my goodbyes.
The problem with this was that it was cold outside and my coat was half wet. Ack. As I was walking home, I noticed a bit of wine had slipped in between the coat and the belt that is part of it, which obviously also had to come out.
And if that wasn't enough, I appeared to be bleeding. Not heavy, but there was a little nick on my finger. I thought about Claire and how she was totally bothered by blood. I wasn't so much bothered by the blood as I was annoyed that I had to deal with this on top of a half wet coat and a wine on it and now possibly blood and Jesus, it was cold out there. Cold in a way it wasn't meant to be.
I got home early enough, and I said hi to Jimmy and Kristina, who were sitting at a table in the lobby, working on homework. Jimmy was nice enough to give me his key, and I trooped up to his room and cleaned myself up (coat included.)
As Jimmy went downstairs to hang with Kristina, I got online and did a little writing, including some poetry. I got dressed in my pajamas. I wondered where Karl was at. It was the weekend, so we can hardly expect him to be around, but he wasn't exactly the going out on the town kind of guy. I hoped he wasn't avoiding me.
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