i have ambivalently reached a truth.
when faced with frightful things (ie. the parker posey that implied that if i didn't go out more, i would inevitably have a one night stand with an action movie has-been, wind up alone and sad and drunk with a frenchman whose advances would make me have panic attacks in the bathrooms of pastry shops) or unfortunate separations (no comment), i automatically turn to dinners, summoning a cadre of friends to fill the evenings with burrito bols and bakery stops.
i don't particularly love dining out but i do like a filled calendar. and dinners, they are quite filling.
the embarrassing thing is that for someone with a heightened self-awareness- prone to accessing one's own emotional motivations in the midst of the actual emotional motivating- i only just realized this. that all of this was connected. that there was a real reason why one week out of every month my calendar becomes a veritable zagat social guide to chipotle and chinatown.
so here i am. a reactionary diner. a dinastic socializer? a socialized dinerator? a reactive socialistizer? all of which sound kinda sexy...