Sinister: Riding in cars with exotic dancers......

[aale002 at xxx.nz]

OK, so the girl is back.

Not THAT girl, the one I loved, but the other one.

The one I should have loved.

And I don't know how I feel.  I don't know how I SHOULD feel, either, but 
that's a different issue.  It's not like emotions routinely come with moral 
imperatives attatched.

I ran into a friend of mine the other day, while avoiding doing real work at 
the library.  Tracey was the one that introduced Mel and I, and has been an 
important part of both our lives.  

Mel just got back from London a few weeks ago, and arrived here in Auckland 
last week.  It took me a whole week from the time I saw Tracey until I had the 
time to sit down and call her, and to find out that Mel wanted to catch up, but 
hadn't left a pjone number for her new flat, just an address.  Seeing as it was 
just around the corner from MY new flat, I decided, quite uncharacteristically, 
to simple drop by, as I was in the neighbourhood.

Which is where I've just come from.  Hence my discombobulated state of mind.

I had been thinking about this all week.  Naturally, in the dark and musty 
recesses of my loins dwelt a fantasy that we'd take one look at each other and 
begin tearing clothes off in a fit of passion, but equally another more 
pragmatic element of my physiology was muttering dire warnings that the 
problems that had arised during our time together would not likely have been 
dissolved by time.

As a compromise, my spleen decided that the best possible outcome was 
contingent upon her having gained an enormous amount of weight, or suffered 
some hideously disfiguring accident.

When she opened the door....you forget, I think.  As a defense mechanism, you 
forget quite what those you once cared for look like.  This means that when you 
see them again after such a long absence, it's like seeing them for the first 
time.

Mel was even more beautiful than I remembered.  She'd lost a little weight, if 
anything, that she'd been trying to lose when I knew her.  She looked 
absolutely fantastic.  

So, we spent an hour in the as-yet-unfurnished dining room, drinking coffee 
and "catching up".  And then I left, and now....I really don't know.  I guess 
you're not supposed to.

***********************************************

On to lighter things....last weekend some friends and I spent three days on 
Waiheke Island, a 45 min ferry ride from Auckland.  Bunch of hippies live 
there, basically, which is why we love the place.  Had intelligent discussions 
about responsible statistics, racism and penis size; went to the nudey beach 
and got burnt all over; had a magical night on the beach, almost ending in us 
getting trapped by the tide, but actually ending in a nudey swim in the 
phosphoresent water and a feast on the beach under the stars, complete with 
bawdy folk songs.  Magic.

***********************************************

And I've officially become THE MOST PATHETIC PERSON ON SINISTER.  Last week I 
signed up for one of those internet dating sites.  I don't know what more can 
possibly be said about that.  Except it involved the aforementioned dancer, who 
drove me around Auckland trying to figure out if I was her type or not.  

I wasn't. 

As an unintended consequence, I got a really good pic taken of me and 
digitised, so I've sent it in to Honey.  

Not that Sinister is a dating club.

Although I STILL haven't recieved a single list crush yet.

(Dirty Vicar Ian, you must lend me some of that cologne.  If it works for you, 
maybe it'll work for me, too.....)

************************************************

Speaking of list crushes (and to segue like Mel Torme) I got a Sillustration 
done about me!

Well, me and Hannah Brown.  

I feel so spesh.

Meery meet, merry part and merry meet again Sinistereens,

Cunning Andre

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