|| Cold, Warm, Lies

Through several careless circumstances, I found out that Anmol drives a Mazda convertible, and I have absolutely no immunity towards a fashionable car, although my favorite is a BMW, Mazda is one of those acceptable replacements. Actually I'm always more curious about the driver and the passenger, who are they, how do they feel and what do they like. I glimpse over the mirrors, grayish and well groomed hair, blonde with designer glasses ... they are a scene to be watched.

I came back home Friday evening, had a little detour on the road. Anmol was already waiting for me at a gas station in short pump. I struggled, but couldn't resist the temptation of getting in a convertible on a late summer evening and strolling the streets with my flying hair. "How about Meikong?", oh well, I had only been to the Vietnamese restaurant once, not a bad place for a Friday night. The ride was fun, joy and a little uncomfortable, because of the conversations. Anmol was largely unpopular in his own ethnic group, and I befriended many of his critics, but they were all gone. I was very careful choosing subjects of interests not to betray my earlier alliance, but demonstrate a level of confidence and willingness to be associated.

The dinner dialogues were full of me revealing that I was lying, but with more lies. But I was relatively honest about my pro-one-china political standing, 'cause many people mistakenly took my equilibrium attention distribution as being a liberal extreme, and it was incorrect. I did myself the justice, and it was stunning to him. After that, he made another fatal mistake and assumed that I have changed to be warm as opposed to be cold in the first impression. Cold, warm, I knew I had lies covering lies, sometimes I could barely make things even and whole.

We then switched to the Starbucks at the Cox road, but we took I-64 instead. The wind, the speed (over 80 miles), and again my flying hair, I loved and I was scared. The conversation continued, and he wanted to probe, and I was covering. My coldness was broken by a look of warmth, but I knew my warmth is the new cold, and it's even more dangerous. I constantly care for my hair, but was told that I looked fine, and someone inside the shop complimented my botkier stirrup bag. It was always excited when someone could notice the difference. There were not too many memorable words, we talked about prior life, movies, and etc., hard to tell whether anyone has the romantic intention, but I was, I thought, very clear that I was not going down the path, and at the end, I thought he knew too.

But I do admire his pursuit towards life and quality of life, prescription for satellite radios, wining business, drinking tea in ashland somewhere, great tastes of documentaries, blogging global warming, and owning a convertible. I have fantasies, but all end in nothing when they come to a real life, practicality takes over, and blogs full of darkness and personal, and chill.