July 12, 2002 | 2:41 PM

Angus invited me to an engagement party tonight of two college friends. The way he invited me made it sound sort of like a date. Which was weird and confusing. I have dinner plans with John and Jenn tonight so I told Angus I could meet up with him later. He seemed to take offence at that suggestion. He hasn�t gotten back to me about the details of when/where to meet him. He hasn�t returned my phone calls or email.

As always when dealing with any member of my Bukowski Boys set, I throw up my hands in frustration.

I pose this question again to you Danger-Art-Damaged-Bukowski-Boys�what the fuck is wrong with all of you? I love you dearly. I love your intellect and your quirkiness and rebel ways and your snide goofy senses of humor and your messy hair and your sneakers and your guitars and books and film equipment strewn about your messy rooms. I love your sexy devil may care attitude and your passion for art and argument and your geekiness and your strange bursts of generosity.

Why can�;t you have all those qualities without being also non-committal, reflexively selfish, codependent, and always always drunk?

I swear to god, if I ever get involved with anyone ever again, it�s going to have to be some staid lawyer because I cannot handle the roller coaster ride.

In other news, I�ve been having terrible terrible nightmares. And I�m still fucking bleeding.

Joy.