Beauty is only skin deep...
Lucky and I did things to change ourselves yesterday. While I was getting my hair cut by a cute guy at Coopers named Jake, he was off in a tanning bed frying himself to a tomato red crisp. The hair cut was nice. He was skinny with short Justin Timberlake type of hair with blonde highlights. His figure was trim as the folds of his black shirt and black pants accenting him. When he washed my hair his hands were gentle and soft and he rubbed so slowly. When he cut my hair we discussed Anne Rice and other authors, getting to know about one another (Where we go to school, what we major in etc.) He was a really nice guy. Sad to see him go as I disappeared into the heated sundrenched afternoon for work.
Later I met Lucky for the gym and he showed me his scortched body. After riding bikes, wiping away the sweat and taking a nervous shower in the communial locker room, we both headed to the apartment.
For the past few nights we've been leaving after sunset and its weird going home when I know there aren't any rehearsals waiting for me. We left, dropped my car off and spent several hours at my parents house - after argueing of course.
The evening was okay for the most part - a little rough. He rubbed cocoa butter on him for a few seconds before he crawled into bed, after he serviced himself with the same lotion for about ten minutes before I came in after talking to Lizzi.
I slept. I don't know if he did.
We both woke up late in the morning, I rubbed more butter on him after he took a cold bath.
I was reminded of the last episode of Sex and the City after Miranda gives Steve's mother a sponge bath. "What you did," Magda tells her "That was love. You love."
Now here I am sitting at the computer, class has been let out early today and I need to get work done but I'm lazy and don't want to do it.
I dunno... (sigh) I'd rather be reading...