All Aloney On My Owney

This past weekend was a metaphorical striptease. To explain:

Friday A - Faced with the choices of chasing after cute bartender (with whom flirtatious rapport has already been established since November) who I ran into at a party or staying at said party to dance/look for other potentials, I chose to remain dancing. Ack.

Friday B - When faced again with choices of accepting sexual come-ons propositioned by an ex-classmate (who is quite the looker) during a game of ruit or joining another friend (also good-looking) for a rousing (ha) session of Smoke More Weed, I chose Mary Jane. Guh.

Saturday - Pimpslapped in the face with choices of playing tonsil hockey with cute freshman (who I had my eye on since Jterm class) during Winter Ball or playing coy thus putting off coitus-activity 'til later (perhaps even weeks from now), I chose to be coquettish. Sigh.

What the fuck is wrong with me again? I can't even blame anyone else--well, for Saturday's events, his freshmen friends kept passing by to say hi so I was, in a sense, being cockblocked but still--! I could have said SCREW IT and swapped spit anyway with the guy, regardless of who was watching! GAAAAAH, next weekend, Esa, next weekend.