Going from one wonderful afternoon into the early evening. We depart the house and decide to eat at the vegan Ethiopian restaurant on Fairfax. We arrive after 7 p.m. My dance class starts at 8. I've known all along that something was going to get in the way of doing this class. I've already declined to attend the Actor's Lounge with Sanyu. Though I don't care much for struggling actors and their 5-minute allotments for performance, I know that the night would be fun. Adam would be there, and now I know that Joshua is going too. He is performing actually. With Joe, my old mentor, the one who Joshua wouldn't tell the last time that he and I dated. He was keeping me a secret. I'm a kept woman, or I was, at 19. Now, at 21, my status is still unclear.
What is clear is that I am going to miss this class. Joshua lets me know the time at 7:45 p.m. I get a box for my food, which has arrived only minutes earlier. It is hot and still smelling good once I get into the car. First I give Joshua a kiss goodbye and, puzzled, suggest meeting up tomorrow. What is this new relationship? I don't know. Today, Joshua told me it would be "fun to fall in love with [me]," or something to that extent. He is open with his thoughts, sharing them like a favorite book. Read me! Here, you don't have to, I'll just read it for you!
So I get to the car, knowing full well that I will not be making the class on time. I have a 5-minute debate with myself as to whether taking the freeway would be more economical time-wise than driving all the way back on Venice Blvd. I end up taking Venice, cursing every few or so lights. I am frustrated. And the food smells good.
After the endless trek is finally done, I park and proceed to change in my car. Reversing my seat back, I shimmy out of my jeans and put on my old thin Scripps College sweatpants in red. Then my socks, then my sneakers, laced, and I am out. To the door, and what do I find? It's locked. The door to the dance studio is locked and there are people inside warming up. But no one is at the front desk. It is as if Katnap has given the keys to the dance teacher just to open up for this particular spot. I believe that is the truth. There aren't many classes at this studio anyways. Alas, the warm-up actually looks hard. Women in yoga pants are stretching their legs back in an arabesque. I do a double take. Is this really hip hop?
Eventually, I give up. It was only half-way through my ride home that I realized I should turn back. What should have happened is that, I, wanting to spend more time with friends, more time with Joshua, and more of my precious free-time doing fun stuff now that I have to think about studying for the LSAT this break (WHAT?), well I should have stayed put at dinner. Eaten my delicious vegan Ethiopian food that, instead, steamed up my passenger seat on the futile ride to the dance studio. Made an entrance at the Actor's Lounge. Seen Joe, who I barely see these days. See if Joe noticed anything between Joshua and I (haha). And had a pleasant time like I always do. And maybe have gone home with Joshua. Alas...
side note: As I wrote this post last night, sitting in my red Scripps sweatpants and a bright yellow pullover, feeling a little uncomfortable in my body and thinking I should just go to the gym, I thought I lost the post. When I clicked the 'PUBLISH POST' button, the website turned into one of those lost domains where URLs that don't really exist take you. The kind that's not a real website, because you just typed in something like wwwlfacebook.co. or some shit like that. So, infuriated and laughing at the minute personal injustices of my evening, I went to bed. Lo and behold, this morning I awoke, checked on my blog drafts to see if this one might have possibly been saved, and it was! Hurrah! I'm still mad, though, because I lost the end of the blog, which was good. And, I woke up this morning at some ungodly hour like 8:38 a.m. dreaming a dream of frustration, depicted in a very uncomfortable way.
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