touchy

Now, I'm a touchy person with my friends, and I love giving hugs, high fives, holding hands, etc., but I like to do those things with people I know. Not just anybody. Particularly not you, drunk dudes at a late-night wedding reception who touch my hair, my side, who try to walk me to my car with my hand tucked through your arm. Who want to *kiss me.* No. N-O. No.

/rant

Thank god for a handful of redeemers; otherwise, I would give up on the male race entirely.

Pretty much Rob and Melissa are the two cutest people on the entire planet. True story! Last night was beautiful; I am paying for that beauty full-force now, however. I am only one hour into my ten hour shift, and I feel myself drooping like a daisy in the shade. As in, after two cups of coffee I can barely keep my eyes open long enough to type this. That's what I get for staying up until 1:30 on a worknight, sleeping for three hours in my car in the cold underneath a tiny jacket, and waking up at 4:30 to move to a van to sleep for a scant two more hours (but at least that part was with a friend, under a sleeping bag, not freezing. thank god.).

Friends are wonderful! I like people (sometimes)! I got a week off next month to go to New Orleans! I have a job! The sun still shines! I can still write! I haven't messed around with anyone and ended up regretting it lately! I'm learning how to make souffles!

These are all good things.

hot stuff

so the last week has been about me learning that perhaps I am still somewhat of a hot commodity around this town.

Batting 3-0, bay-be.

This Old House

Yesterday.
Breakfast with Tyler at Grandview Restaurant. Best sweet potato pancakes ever. Staring contests. Reassurance.
Chinquapin Ridge. Nat King Cole.
Rain. Drive out to Bethel. Cliff's old house. Colors. Pictures.
Quiche. Too much wine. Movie. Cuddles. Goodbye kiss.

These are all good things.