One girl. One college. Three thousand guys. This blog is a blow-by-blow [yes, that was a dirty pun] account of the social (and usually sexual) misadventures of a commitment-phobic and ironically promiscuous virgin.

Saturday, November 25, 2006

it never stops

Okay, so a few guys I haven't mentioned on my blog, but who of course are still in my life: The Hippie, and Mr. Perfect.

Now, Mr. Perfect's name is a little deceving, because although he is technically "perfect" he just isn't perfect for me. I've just never really been attracted to him, which is a problem since he is theoretically perfect. I mean, he's attractive, tall, warm, loving, sweet, nice, very intelligent, smart, comes from a good family, blah, blah, blah, gag me, blah, blah, blah. In ten years I'll probably kick myself for not marrying him, since he's going to be a doctor and probably cure cancer. But right, even if I wanted to, dating him wouldn't work out. Mostly because of an incident that I'll refer to as "the incident," and I'll probably explain one day. Okay, fine I'll explain it now, I was his date to a thing and hooked up with another guy in the men's room. Whoops. Happens to the best of us I suppose. Long story short, his friends hated me, and of course they didn't believe my story, which was that nothing happened. I had just "wandered off" on my own accord. Yeah. Right. He did believe me, and even if he didn't, he was willing to forgive me. It was a lot of drama that lasted the entire year, but hey, whatever, we've gotten past that. His friends are even okay with me now.

Regardless, on to The Hippie. The Hippie is kind of my ideal. He's adorable, has these intense blue eyes, and can hold eye contact like none other. Sometimes in the middle of a conversation, while his eyes are locked with yours, you'll swear that you're in love with him. His eyes are just so beautiful and intense, they make you all tingly. Anyway, last year we would see each other all of the time in the dining hall, and this year he lives on the other side of campus, sadly enough. We talked via email all summer, even though he was half way around the world, and so it was sad when we got back to campus and didn't talk nearly as much as we used to. Anyway, I'm still pretty much enamoured with him, when I see or talk to him, which is why I was so excited when he called yesterday.

I guess I should explain this. The Hippie called yesterday, just to say hi, which was nice. It was even nicer that he said we both have to take responsibility for not having seen each other, and that we should change that. Yes, Sir. He's at home now, but hopefully we'll hang out this week. Sadly enough, last time we hung out, we got stoned together and it was a lot less fun than not being stoned together. I don't know why, but it was super awkward in my head. We were alone in his room, and we had been having a great time before hand, but I guess that just killed it.

I'm hanging out with Mr. Perfect tonight. That should be good. Or weird. Or something. He's texted me for the past week asking to hang out and stuff, and today he sent me a bunch of texts saying that I was "a cutie" and the like. I dunno. I dunno.



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