The Whistler is back. This is a guy who lives nearby. He gets arrested and sent to jail every 6 months or so...then disappears...then comes back and just wanders up and down the block doing the loud gang-call whistle and shouting "I'm back, my niggaz" and all sorts of other poetic things. A few minutes ago he was out on the corner and one of the new yuppie neighbors walked past him with her dog...his attempts at engaging this woman in conversation were so ridiculous I almost felt sorry for him.
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It is too damn hot out. I am tired and crabby and sweaty and too lazy to put in the a/c tonight.
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My friends went back to Tucson today. I cry every time I leave them or they leave me. They are just that important to me. It makes for some good dramatic scenes at the airport.
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Frenchie keeps calling me and I really find it hard to believe that he is so desperate that his best dating option is me. Poor guy. I have been feeling desperate for affection lately but I think that a lukewarm fuck is going to make me more depressed than I already am.
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D. came over last night and painted my toenails for me. There are times when I wonder why we have never pushed our relationship further. Actually, we tried once but it felt forced and weird to me.
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Oh... but I dream of someone almost every night...