Kick Drum Heart

I hate feeling like I need to act a certain way around someone just because others expect me to act that way.

If I want to hug someone, I’m going to go hug them. If I want to push someone into another person so they’ll dance together, I’ll do it (even if that attempt was unsuccessful). : )

And if I want to ignore someone, I’m damn well going to.

I am, by no means, required to acknowledge anyone. If I wanted to act like a jerk, I could treat everyone like they were below me. I could patronize my friends and act like a pompous asshole.

I could if I wanted to, but I don’t. I generally like people. I mean, if someone treats me rudely, I’ll ignore them, because it would appear to me as if they don’t care. If they don’t care, I usually don’t, either. But I’ve learned to expect anything from anyone, because you never know when someone will surprise you.

However, if I choose to ignore someone who I’ve already been surprised by (multiple times), I don’t require an explanation for my behavior. Bitches.

Last night, I went to a friend’s house after homecoming and a visit to Timmy Ho’s: it eventually ended up being nice because I was with Emma, Hannah, and Stephen (and Derrek for a little while). but also pretty gay, because by the time Ben and Craig left, Derrek had to leave too, so we sat there afterward and chilled. Chillfully. Okay, cool. I don’t mind that. But it could have been so much more fun, and it wasn’t. The whole first hour and a half there I sat and thought, Wow, please shut up.

Why? Because I don’t give a shit if some college girl took a dump in the middle of a hallway. Believe it or not, that kind of grosses me out.

It was freaking homecoming, and we got to hear badly-delivered “funny” stories from the grown-up college boys. Were the stories supposed to be impressive? Funny? Interesting? Was I somehow supposed to be eager to go to college all of a sudden, or what?

Ennui took over. I texted, and sat in the same chair as Stephen, who also texted. The entire time.

And as much as I wanted to stay over at Hannah’s, I guess I was glad to have gone home. I got in the car, lost a five dollar bet, cleaned the bathroom (which had been messy after a rushed getting-ready party) and deflated the air mattress, then fell asleep listening to Funkytown, which for some reason was playing at 1:45 in the morning. I replaced lyrics with “won’t you take me to– Kevin Brooooown” and drifted into dreamland. There, I had an interesting dream involving some grinding, a brown floor, and a guy in a blue shirt.

But except for the beginning of coronation and the beginning of the afterparty, homecoming was faaaantastic. I had fun, and in the long run, that’s what I’m going to remember, instead of being annoyed.