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went to the Museum Meat-Market again last night at the MFA with a bunch of girlfriends. At some point, a boy who I shall refer to as Architect (partially because I can't remember his name) struck up conversation (he is the roommate of a friend). Fine, lovely, whatever, we'll chat. He buys me a drink. Things are okay. He's a bit boring but whatever. He's Jewish (hence I will never end up with him). We meet back up with my friends. Architect will not leave. Any time I try to speak to other men (hellO, this is essentially a single's event, for heaven's sake! Even if it IS the seediest place ever and I know I would never date anyone I spoke to there, you are ruining my potential for having future drinks bought for me!), he cuts in. "Did I save you? Was I rescuing you?"

By the end of the night, A's Boyfriend needed to rescue me from Architect, but to no avail. His friends have all left, so he now thinks he's part of our Group. A's Boyfriend (let's call him AB) resorts to saying he's polygamous, ever five minutes. Architect does not get the hint. We go out to a bar recommended by our cab driver (don't ask), order drinks and flat bread pizza (incidentally, some random man had the nerve to try to GUESS MY WEIGHT at the Museum, and over-shot it by 5 lbs. That should have made me resolve to never eat again, but instead, I ordered flat bread pizza, however illogically), blahblah. Bill arrives. Architect makes no move to put a single dollar in. "Oops, I'm out of cash. Can anyone spot me?" We have never met him before. We are three female graduate students & AB. I slap $25 on the table and say, "so much for the drinks you bought me earlier in the night!" AB later tells A that Architect ALSO manage to avoid paying for the cab, too! (Girls had all run inside to get out of the rain.)

Due to a really seamless, almost balletic exchange of wordless communications across the table, everyone has gotten the point that Architect Must Go. Above all, Architect must be kept away from Tarabeet, who he is clearly currently envisioning a romantic life together with thirty-six Jewish children (doublt chai). We walk through the park to get to the T. Everytime Architect swoops in to make conversation with Tarabeet, AB or A or S does a double-swoop, obstructing him from me. "So, how did you meet your roommates?" "So, what were you saying you were working on currently?" "So, where are you from again?"

I didn't have to speak to him again for the rest of the night. Such good, selfless friends.

However, I am apparently being punished for going out two nights in a row (and having the audacity to make plans for a third) by having my body rebel against me. Currently my right eye is refusing to open up altogether. Yep, I've been a Cyclops since I've woken up this morning. SO unattractive, SO going to force me to cancel dinner plans for tonight. (See above)

Also, I just fell prey to a total sneak attack. Was on the phone telling A about my Day as a Cyclops, had a call waiting beep, my one eye mis-judged the button to push on my cell phone, so I switched over to the call without seeing my caller ID first. Big mistake. I was accosted by the sound of ExBoy, voice like an angel, calling me by his petname for me. Totally unprepared.