oh god so

i need to start with a little background: UCLA is roughly square. to the south is westwood village, where There Be Shops. to the west are grotty apartments where students (like me) live. and to the north and the east (and the west again too but past the grotty part) are Nice Houses where Rich People live. deep in the neighbourhood to the east, there is free evening/weekend parking, and grad conductor sfpk's wife parked there so i gave her a ride to her car after Figaro tonight b/c i was parked all close in the structure. while i was down there i drove past a silver Mercedes-Benz with vanity plates that read, "ENTITLD"

i wanted to key that fucker so bad.

I am a sad single girl.

I'd be fine except for the emotional and temporal immediacy of all the Shit That Went Down, and the fact that the go-out-and-have-single-girl-fun plans I made with Roomie fell through (she and her sister are going out to dinner with their family instead, because they're for whatever reason in Santa Barbara this weekend (instead of Fremont), which is totally okay and I understand completely)... leaving me here with Flatmate who is getting ready to go out with her bf (and they're an adorable couple and I love them together, it's just. you know.) and the cat who enjoys spilling his water all over the kitchen floor. And last night all three of us were running around getting dressed up at the same time, but... I was putting on concert black for the opera, while they were going on Valentine's Day dates (or fake dates in Roomie's case but she still pulled out all the stops) and I felt it pretty intensely then, too.

I just... I miss Jay a lot. And I've been much happier since I decided that, no, he doesn't deserve me, and yes, I am gorgeous and smart and can go out with my girlfriends and have a great time. Neither of these things is preventing me from missing him, though. Especially when I remember the opera run last year -- snogging during the intervals and our not-so-inconspicuous exit from the orchestra after-party (on running into the host in the hallway outside the lift: "Leaving so soon, Jay?" "Yeah, well, I've gotta go bang my girlfriend." "Oh, that's all right then.") -- and the fact that Valentine's Day was in the middle of that as well and it had been just a short time since we started dating and my recital was the next day and both of us had almost completely forgotten until someone asked what we were going to do, so we went out to dinner at Islands (classy, I know, but the other place we tried had too long a wait and we were both super hungry) and... well. I'm forging ahead and I'm proud of that, I feel happier, but I still love him and it still hurts a bit. Especially on days like this when it seems like I'm the only one not having fun, when I have too much time to be in my own head, and when American society is telling me, in no uncertain terms, that I should be Out With A Man instead of In With My Cat.

Today: Maybe not a total wash

True, I did not do a damn thing. I slept until about.... eleven? Noon? Got up and fed the fish, ate some Cheez-Its, then went back to bed to alternately doze and bum around the internets until 3:15... Then proceeded to lounge around some more. But I did end up leaving the house and doing something fun! C. called me around 6:50, said he had comp tickets to Purcell's The Fairy Queen because one of the voice faculty was singing in it... and also he had suddenly found himself out of a ride. So I put on some NOT-lounging-around-the-house clothes and picked him up and on the way there it turned out that D. (C's ride) had in fact made it down from Pasadena in time and L. had come too and then it was a party! Except traffic was kind of shitty and then parking was, too, so we were a little bit late. But we saw the professor's big aria on a screen (and heard it quite well through either the speakers or the doors), and then they let us slip in and it was awesome. And now I'm home with the cat and the computer and the telly and it's not as awful as it seemed earlier this evening, so that's good, too.

p.s. Baroque bassoon is funny. Ha ha!