|2002-11-06 - 1:03 p.m.
i feel like a teen-ager. i intentionally went to study mandarin in the school cafeteria because i knew "he" would be there. i need to come up with a name for him because i don't know it yet and i would hate to reduce him to a pronoun when he is quite substantial. i mean, what would i say in bed? "oh god, you! don't stop, you!" so, since he looks like a geeky refined henry rollins with a much smaller neck, eyes, and ego [we hope], i will refer to him as LRH. let me explain. Little Rollins, Henry or in truth, Lunch Room Hottie. can you tell i'm almost 30? so of course he walks in when i am not paying attention. he is wearing a motorcycle jacket and perfectly softened jeans that beg me to come between him and his calvins. he first sits down at a table to my back. but as soon as one facing me opens up, he leaps for it. i don't think it had much to do with me. so the same thing happens every time. i'm too cool for school. i look up. sometimes intense, sometimes like i'm thinking about how to write my next mandarin character. he does exactly the same. you would think after over a decade, games like this might bore me. and they do. but what a rush. and if boys don't know what girls think, here goes. the minute i see him, i want to drag him around to the side of the building, press my body against hs punk-rock perfection, slamming him against the wall, and push my lips against his. clearly expressing my motives. and then he'll smile like it's christmas morning [he does not look jewish] and throw me on the back of his bike [riding fairly slow, as i am still slightly phobic since the crash], take me to his bed and i will say "oh god, LRH! don't stop, LRH!"
the joys of being single and returning to college...