I spoke with Marian last night. She called at 1 a.m., taking a risk since I said I that I work at night too. What a chatty thing she is. We’ve agreed Sunday would be good for the gelato place. She is still trying to get a feel for where I am – she asked again which way I swing, must have forgotten from Friday. She’s one of those girls who’s looking for that one-and-only and I have a really hard time believing in that romantic stuff. But then again, I have nothing on which to base my disbelief so why don’t I try it out for awhile? To my surprise, she identifies with punk culture and has never met a gemini who wasn’t a heartless bitch with a split personality. She’s a capricorn. And still totally stuck on the jello-shot-waitress-girl at the club.
She seems more like the type of girl I would call at night when I’m feeling coy, I’d call to practice my dirty talk. But that would be it.
Oh yeah, factor in the pot smoking to that equation. She’s been doing it for years and doesn’t think a thing of it. I don’t really care but… I frequently find that pot smokers are not the kind of person who would do well for me. Or they’re just not into me because I come off as a goody two-shoes (i’ll show you two shoes!). There are always exceptions to the rule.