Animation and Girls

I went to the animation lab last night at 10 pm.  I came back from the lab this morning around 7 am.  I had to take out the garbage.  The truck came fifteen minutes later.  I win!

Now, let me tell you a story.

I like to keep in touch with people.  It’s a bad habit, I suppose, but I figure; if I was reasonably good friends with someone at any given point in time, I should put in the effort to touch base with them every once in a while.  So, I gave an old friend, B, a call (who I’ve mentioned in a tale of mundane dreams), to see if she wanted to get lunch.  Yes, she had a minor crush on me, and yes, she sort of threw herself at me and I politely declined; but I had assumed that eight or nine months of not talking was enough to put all that behind us.

I was wrong.

We met one fine Sunday afternoon and enjoyed a lunch at a local cafeteria.  She even brought a friend with her, which made me think, “Good, she doesn’t see this as anything more than purely platonic,” though I did think it was a little strange that she should bring some random kid to our reunion lunch.  Nevertheless, it went well, we touched base, we had fun, end of story. 

Until she texts me around one in the morning the following Saturday asking me whether or not I knew of any bumpin parties going on that night.  I did not, for I was asleep.  Thinking nothing of this late night text, I texted her back the following morning, apologizing for not seeing her text and asking if she had found anything good.  She had not.  We then proceeded to have a 5 or 6 hour long text message conversation determining whether or not we would hang out that evening, for we both had separate screenings we wanted to attend.  Me, being stubborn me, wanted to go see Stephanie Maxwell’s Visual Music screening at the Egyptian Theater, and I have to admit, I mostly wanted B to go so I would have a ride (I never got one so I didn’t end up going).  Just when I thought the conversation was over she texts me again, several hours later, inviting me to drink hot cocoa.

Hot cocoa?

But still, I gave her the benefit of the doubt and figured, “Oh, she just wants to rekindle our friendship.  We used to do stuff like that all the time.  No biggie.”  I declinded, but suggested we have lunch/dinner the following day.

So Monday came, I got out of class, and we met at the same location to have another meal.  This time it was just the two of us, but it went well.  Though a few awkwards moments threatened us, we made it through quite enjoyably.  We finished our meal and I’m about ready to say goodbye, but ah, she wants to get cigarettes from across the way.  I’ve been smoking a bit recently (though actually not at all in the past two weeks or so) and decide I might as well buy a pack too.  We made our purchases, and I think, “Aaaalright, that’s that,” but wait, she decides to pull one out and smoke it because I HAVE to try a puff. 

It was mint flavored.  Great.

So she smoked her cigarette and I didn’t mind chatting with her while she did, and when she was finished, it had been a couple of hours since we’d met up.  I had to get to the lab to do some work and I didn’t have time to fool around with her anymore, so I do the, “Okaaay.  Well I gotta get to the lab…”.  She says “I kind of want to see what the lab looks like.”

She wants to see what the computer lab looks like.

But I was feeling super friendly and couldn’t possibly fathom that she could still have feelings for me after so long and after I was clearly not interested, so we rode our bikes to the lab.   I showed her some of the assignments I had completed and she nodded her head approval, and then I was really ready to work.  I figured she’d seen all there was to see, so now she would go.

“Now draw something.”
“What?”
“I want to see you draw something”
“You want to watch me draw?”
“Yeah I want to see how you do it.”

I hate when people watch me draw.  I vocalized this but she insisted, and I was reasonably annoyed that I’d been wasting so much time with her not doing work, so I just drew.  And she watched.  For a good while.  Finally, after fifteen minutes or so, she left; because I’m pretty sure there is nothing more boring in this world than watching someone animate frame by frame. 

It hadn’t been hour.  It might not have even been a half hour.  She texted me.

“Are you going to the rally tomorrow?”

Some organization at my school had organized a ”flash mob” protesting the passing of Proposition 8 (for non-Californians who may not know, prop 8 was the one making a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage).  The protestors would meet at exactly 12:25 pm for one minute at a central location on campus.  I knew this, for I had received an invitation in my email.  However, I never seem to find it necessary to read things thoroughly, and I had missed the sentence that said that the protestors would be spending that one minute kissing or hugging someone of the same or opposite sex.

I responded, yes, to her message.

During my bike ride home I received another message.  This one asked me if I wanted to “go together.”  Me, still naive of what the rally was ACTUALLY about, was quite befuddled by the message.  When I arrived home, my roommate promptly described the kissing part to me.  I slapped my forehead.

I’m an idiot.

I quickly called my closest gay friend and asked him if he was going to the protest, to which he replied, “What, the makeout one?” (because apparently everyone was aware of that part but me).  I explained the predicament to him, as he is very well informed of the situation I had with B last year, and agreed to accompany me.  Once we hung up, I texted B that I was planning to go with him.  I sighed a sigh of relief, and wiped my hands clean, relieved that I had thwarted a rather awkward situation.

She texts me back

“Come with me”

Now, honestly.  What the fucking hell?  Maybe I think my actions are much more clearer than they are.  Maybe when I think I’m saying no, and not flirting, and not looking longingly into ther eyes, I really am?  Am I sending mental messages begging her to make out with me in public?  Perhaps I am an asshole who is leading her on without any idea that I am, but I’m almost positive that this is not the case.

I didn’t respond to her message.

The next day she sent me an email with a link to an animation asking me how long I thought it took to make.   I told her, at least a few months.

We haven’t spoken since.

With Alotta Love,

zee zee cakes

Tags: friends, gay, girls, lesbian, relationships