Stuff I talked about with Tyler yesterday while hanging around the LES (non-exhaustive list):
• John Steinbeck’s letter writing
• museums and memorials in the D.C. area
• Rage Against The Machine
• what it’s like to be queen of a mental hospital ward
• Revel scooters
• brother stuff
• band stuff
• my writing
• Samuel Fuller
Stuff I refused to acknowledge:
• how cute Tyler looked in his new haircut.
There’s no point. I tell the other boys when they look especially cute. God, I’ll even tell Jack when he’s dressed well. Not Tyler.
Don’t ask why. I don’t have time to explain. It’s harmless and it scratches itches I don’t have interest in dealing with right now.
Can straight women and men have purely platonic friendships? Is someone always harboring a crush? Does the attraction make for better friendships? Isn’t it nicer to be in love with someone’s brain when it’s wrapped up in a cute package?
If I ever do meet someone I’d be interested in romantically, they’d have to be extremely secure with themselves or really with it to see that I’d bring it all home to them at the end of the day.
They’d also have to be really, really amazing to add to what I already have. My standards are only so high because the people I choose to surround myself with have shown me what I can expect from people. Certainty. Courtesy. Respect. Deference. Admiration. Interest. Reliability. Stability. Integrity. If you want to ride in this lane you have to be able to keep up. I’m not ever going to capitulate to anyone who can’t be those things again. I know I’m not asking for too much.
If I ever do meet someone I’d be interested in, they’d have to ask all my friends collectively for my hand in marriage. That’s just how that works. They have to give their blessing because that’s how much I value their discernment.
I’m worth that and more. I’m like a Roche Bobois mahjong sofa set. My showroom doesn’t get a lot of volume but it’s worth every penny to the right customer.