Let me start off by saying I hate Vanessa Carlton and any other piano playing songstress (not including Norah Jones). There were others I'd like to name but I forgot who they were the minute I started typing this paragraph.Secondly: emode.com
This is how I've met a potential suitor.
His name is Nick. He lives in downtown Albany. I've been waiting to mention him in here cause I was afraid I might jinx something.
And because the whole emode.com thing kinda sounds like he could be a potential stalker/psychotic killer. I'm still afraid of that. I'm afraid of the connotation that comes with personals and what have you...the negativity, desperation and general bad rap I've given it in the past.
But here I am. I want to meet this guy. We've spoken on the phone at least twice since Friday.
It sucks that I don't know what he looks like. I'm afraid of being disappointed.
The thing I hate most about this being finals week and not having any real finals is that weekends aren't special. I forget what day it is. I'm always forgetting what day it is.
You could tell me today is Thursday and I'd believe you.
I had a dream about Greg last night. In this dream, I was okay with giving him the intimacy he wanted since he struck out with two other girls before me. He approaches me and acts all warm and loving, cozying up to me and being all loving...think John Mayer in the video for Your Body is a Wonderland.
I remember thinking during the dream about Greg's size and telling him that I would only do this if he'd act differently than last time. He told me we'd play a game of cards once it was over. I said I didn't want to go all the way with him (Christ, I haven't used that term in a year) and he responded supportingly.
Yeah. I'm baffled too.
