November's/December's theme:"We diverge and I collapse into my bed/And you are shoved awkwardly into my head" A Separate Lid Behind Closed Eyes

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Jason recommends the album, American Weekend by Waxahatchee

Extra doses and double shots - December 13, 2021
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When We Two Parted - November 25, 2021
Catfish - November 22, 2021

June 21, 2001 // 11:02 a.m // Angie+Jason 1999-2000

I have issues with Angie. It's been close to one year since the schitzophrenic week at the Grand Canyon turned our friendship from close, then to suspicious, then nearly into a relationship, and finally minutes later, a grudge.

Skipping through what I don't feel like talking about, I'll start with the last day which began with Felicia talking to me about Angie. She was very caring. One of the more caring people I've ever talked to about a problem. To think all I saw her as was an *NSYNC loving freshman who had no knowledge about anything. She went to great lengths to help me on that trip.

As soon as we began to pull out from the campsite, I passed a note back to her that said, "You seem like you haven't wanted to talk to me. Are you mad at me?"

She wrote that she wasn't, and she thought I was mad. She followed that up with "Felicia said that you thought that I was leading you on and that you thought that I flirt too much." It was true. That was exactly what I wanted Felicia to tell her. She had come through once again.

Then she hit me with it.

"I did like you, but I don't as much now. I'm not really sure why I don't like you anymore. It's just a little crush type thing."

I questioned her about why she likes to flirt. I always saw flirting as a sign of attraction. To me, there really is no such thing as "innocent flirting."

"I'm a girl and I like to flirt. How big of a crush did you have on me, and how big is it now?" Both of us gave the same answer. "Pretty big. Last summer." At this point, my pen was running low on ink, coupled with writing on the other side of the page and my sloppy handwriting, I was amazed she was able to read the yellowed paper with such ease.

"I should have asked you out," I wrote. "but I wasn't sure if you liked me or were just flirting. Plus, you DID have a boyfriend at the time."

"So. If you had asked me out, I would have said yes." Confused, confused, confused. Did I really want a girl who would dump her boyfriend at the drop of a hat for me?

She then hit me with the truth a second time. "I don't think you should have a serious relationship until you're older anyway. If I was dating you, I'd want a serious relationship."

After all, we spent more time together than most couples. This was day eight of the Grand Canyon trip. There were all day trips we were able to go on. Topaz Mountain, the Arts Festival, river rafting last year was what brought us closer together. What was said next all but sealed the friendship.

"So who in the program do you like?"

"Will the truth hurt you because if it does, I'm not telling you."

She told me the names of the other two I had suspected. She liked B, whom she had flirted with all week. This had been the first trip in over a year that we didn't speak. B was also passing notes with her in the van, telling her that we should hook up. If I only had those notes.

She loves being the center of attention, something she shares with B. It'd be hard for me to put up with that, which is when I thought of how annoyed her cousin had made me in drama class.

The longer we wrote, the shorter and more inconsistant her answers were. This time when I asked if she ever thought of asking me out, she told me that she didn't know. At the same time we were passing notes (she was sitting directly behind me, B was sitting in the row in front of me against the window) the two of them were flirting as they had all eight days of the trip.

"I see you guys flirting right now more than we did. It's in the way you're TALKING so..."

"I'm not trying to."

"Sure, sure."


Blatent denial. "It seems like more is going on, especially from yesterday when you were sitting by him in the van (and flirting with him on the hike)"

"He sat by me. I was already sitting there."

"Yeah, you wanted him to sit by you and you still would have flirted if he sat in front of you."

"So it's my fault." she wrote.

"Kinda sorta. I think you've liked him for a while.You've liked him for longer than you say, I think."

"Nope. I have not."

"Since when have you liked him?"

"Not very long. About June." I knew it. Since they worked together at the Arts Festival. It was our place the year before when we sprinkled glue and glitter on each other. I should have been there.

"Why did you start liking him?"

"He was funny."

"Oh. Intresting."

"Isn't it though. I'm tired of writing."

The rest of the six hour trip home was full of tension, so I just slipped my headphones on and drifted into a world where Angie didn't exist. I just drove past the Arts Festival while picking up my sister from school. She's doing nothing but complain. She wants the computer when she has her own and a laptop free. She wants a printer when she has her own. She's stomping and sulking. And I'm not in a good mood because of this entry, so I'm going to listen to Dido. She helps me drift away.


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