So, uh, I take back what I said about the police. I only hate a small part of the police department. The detective whom I talked to a couple days after the douche bag rent-a-cop was really nice and really concerned about the investigation, showing me that she truly cared about the outcome and was willing to do what it took to make things happen. I mean, I wouldn't quite call her an Olivia Bennson or an Elliot Stabler, but she was down and knew what the fuck she was talking about. I don't really care if he goes to jail or not. I just want someone with a uniform to stick up for me by banging on his door and letting him know what he did wasn't okay.
I figure my grandfather either A. had no idea how consequential molesting me was or B. just doesn't give a fuck. So, having an officer let him know that it's against the law for a reason feels good enough for me. And I know that once the cops come knocking at his door and asking around, people will stop being stupid and will stop letting their children near him. And that's all I care about: the safety of others and justice for myself and the other countless victims.
But honestly, I'm tired of talking about all this. Between the daily heart-to-hearts I have with my parents, sisters, and friends, and the once a week sessions with my counselors, I feel like I'm talked out once again.
So, instead I will talk about a great movie I watched this weekend. It stars my favorite lady Mia Farrow and Dustin Hoffman. It's called "John and Mary" and it illustrates the dynamic of a one night stand. You can watch a clip for yourself via Youtube.
This weekend was kind of boring to be quite honest. Boring and yet entirely fruitful. I did all of my hw for the whole week. All of my friends went out of town, so, I just hung out in my room drinking beer and completing assignments one by one. I did have a little bit of fun though. I went to my favorite gay bar with a girlfriend of mine on Friday night. We just danced off the stresses of the previous week. The only awkward part was running into my "friend" Matt. I met him last Halloween at a party. There I was at some house show all dressed up in 1940s clothing and he popped out of no where and started flirting with me. I really liked the attention he gave me, because in all honesty I really found him attractive. He was older and artistic and had this incredibly subtle sense of humor that always caught me off guard. We spent the whole night sipping on a joint and talking on a hammock. We flirted non stop until my ride was about to leave. I asked him if he wanted to exchange phone numbers and that was when he broke the bad news to me. He said he had a girlfriend. I tried my best not to look shocked or hurt, just because I'm one of those immature people who never likes to let someone know they've hurt her feelings. So, I just kinda blew it off. But before I started walking away he told me that they were on the rocks. He promised to call me if things with her didn't work out. I just rolled my eyes and walked away. I figured it was his loss. But then I saw them at the wave that night dancing together and looking very happy and NOT on the rocks. We talked for a second. We did the phony, "Hi, how are you?" type stuff that lasted all of two minutes and did nothing as far as revealing how we truly were. I felt resentful. But after realizing that it's probably better this way since i have so much stuff going on in my life right now, I moved on quickly. And my mind came back to just dancing and having a good time.