Welcome To My Bed

In the (201).


Self-reflection just beyond my fingertips. Sorry for the joke, I know it's shameless.

One of my good friends told me he was in love with me last night. No one should ever tell me such things. I need to make a sign to wear around my neck that says, "Just because I enjoy your company does not make me 'the one'." I can clearly never have male friends. This is the second such weirdness of the week. On Monday night one of my other male friends said completely out of the blue, "So, I'd totally sleep with you." Nothing leading up to it, just that blunt statement. Do people actually do this in real life, or is it only happening in mine?? If it is the latter option, I am giving God or whoever the finger right now.

I read so many poems to my dad tonight. It felt unfair, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. He's going to be sending the book he's writing to me so that I can have a look. I have never read anything my father has written, but then, I don't think my father writes very much.

This weekend will most likely be slavishly dedicated to reading the five novels that I had to bring home. Not exactly how I picture weekends away from Hampshire, but I guess this is what I get for being academically insane. I would have liked to drive to Philadelphia, crash in a hotel room, hiding out and telling secrets. But the world is conspiring against me to prevent any mote of escapism. Maybe next weekend I can shirk my responsibilities effectively.

Music obsession of the week:

I didn't think leotards were sexy. Perhaps I have been proven wrong?