longwood lanced to my heart and made me corny.
So, I'm listening to Panic! At the Disco...and I keep thinking of Michael I. The Roman numeral requires what was actually the reason for this update.
Existentialism of the French persuasion.
French major of the Existentialist persuasion.
Two French majors of the homosexual persuasion.
Falling for him didn't take much persuasion.
So, there's an interdiciplinary conference on March 25 about Different Conceptions of Reality. Michael Elliott, a Senior French major going to UVa next semester to work on his masters in French, currently student teaching, is putting a French Major panel on Existentialism. I was told about it, and as a dirty existentialist, I signed up for it. I meet Michael.
So, I'll be honest. At first I thought he was cute, but a little too neurotic and a tad fem. And I knew via facebook he was gay. We started talking, and I found something out. All first impressions do is give you the most obvious characteristics. Nothing about the person, nothing about the characteristics. It's like an antique that you only see as beat-up looking. The story behind the beatings is what makes you appreciate them. I get to know Michael more, and the mini-faults I find become what I like best about him. Oh, and he thinks i'm brillant. How do you not kiiinda get ushygushy for that?
And, judging by my last update, you'd think i'm getting into this for all the wrong reasons. Nope...I've thought about it. I'd much rather be single than be with someone I don't like. And I see him, and want to kiss him all the time. And I look up at him, and am pleasently surprised that he's as cute if not cuter than I think he is. Cause mental images are always better (unless you're Brad Pitt or Christian Bale). btw- brad with dark hair = do me now. And of course, there's the reconciling the people we are into a functioning interaction. We're learning each other's ropes.
I've not been able to stop laughing all weekend. I've had Gold Digger and that damn Grill song stuck in my head. Michael likes the Humps song, so I got to joke with him and make my jello into Lady Lumps (fucking love that name). It's the funny story that's funny if you were there. Went to Hollins Coll in Roanoke with Michael this weekend and had a marvelous time in the land of wo-men, and lesbosity.
Moments of oratory greatness:
--I'll pop my pussy till the SPCA comes.
--Tu es mon chef-d'oeuvre divin (You are my divine masterpiece)
--Je veux t'admirer pendant des siecles. (I want to admire you for centuries.)
Something about things being said in French make them less desperately emotionally soggy and make them sound romantic. The depth can be ignored cause it's pretty and that's all it is...and you know by my saying it that i like him...but maybe not as much as the actual words show. I apparently get lovey-dovey when drunk. I greater/less than three it (never really got which one was which).
Good night. I think you've gotten the picture. Kinda...I don't even think I've got the picture. Shit, that's me being twelve and angsty again. gain control tony, gain control.
-Night.
Existentialism of the French persuasion.
French major of the Existentialist persuasion.
Two French majors of the homosexual persuasion.
Falling for him didn't take much persuasion.
So, there's an interdiciplinary conference on March 25 about Different Conceptions of Reality. Michael Elliott, a Senior French major going to UVa next semester to work on his masters in French, currently student teaching, is putting a French Major panel on Existentialism. I was told about it, and as a dirty existentialist, I signed up for it. I meet Michael.
So, I'll be honest. At first I thought he was cute, but a little too neurotic and a tad fem. And I knew via facebook he was gay. We started talking, and I found something out. All first impressions do is give you the most obvious characteristics. Nothing about the person, nothing about the characteristics. It's like an antique that you only see as beat-up looking. The story behind the beatings is what makes you appreciate them. I get to know Michael more, and the mini-faults I find become what I like best about him. Oh, and he thinks i'm brillant. How do you not kiiinda get ushygushy for that?
And, judging by my last update, you'd think i'm getting into this for all the wrong reasons. Nope...I've thought about it. I'd much rather be single than be with someone I don't like. And I see him, and want to kiss him all the time. And I look up at him, and am pleasently surprised that he's as cute if not cuter than I think he is. Cause mental images are always better (unless you're Brad Pitt or Christian Bale). btw- brad with dark hair = do me now. And of course, there's the reconciling the people we are into a functioning interaction. We're learning each other's ropes.
I've not been able to stop laughing all weekend. I've had Gold Digger and that damn Grill song stuck in my head. Michael likes the Humps song, so I got to joke with him and make my jello into Lady Lumps (fucking love that name). It's the funny story that's funny if you were there. Went to Hollins Coll in Roanoke with Michael this weekend and had a marvelous time in the land of wo-men, and lesbosity.
Moments of oratory greatness:
--I'll pop my pussy till the SPCA comes.
--Tu es mon chef-d'oeuvre divin (You are my divine masterpiece)
--Je veux t'admirer pendant des siecles. (I want to admire you for centuries.)
Something about things being said in French make them less desperately emotionally soggy and make them sound romantic. The depth can be ignored cause it's pretty and that's all it is...and you know by my saying it that i like him...but maybe not as much as the actual words show. I apparently get lovey-dovey when drunk. I greater/less than three it (never really got which one was which).
Good night. I think you've gotten the picture. Kinda...I don't even think I've got the picture. Shit, that's me being twelve and angsty again. gain control tony, gain control.
-Night.