The ongoing saga of a boy, his desperate observations and a girl from a military family.

01-12-04

One year later: she is even more beautiful than she used to be. Holy shit.

But, unfortunatley, our bridges have been soaked in gasoline and burned beyond recognition.

The bitterness between us:

- liberal vs. conservative

- anti-war vs. military family

- alcohol abuser vs. non-drinker

- smoker vs. anti-smoker

- headstrong vs. headstrong

Our vile mixes didn't mix; they turned into insults, awkwardness and nasty looks glared in my direction.

The price I pay for once being a mentally unstable, asshole.

She really makes me wish that I wasn't so fucked up for such a long period of time. She makes me wish I wasn't once so bent on cynacism, alcoholic binges and lost-love.

01-13-04

At the very, very least she gives me something to write about; makes my insides turn like the gears of a machine, but definitely not a well oiled machine.

She looks cool sitting there -- not “cool,” just, cool, calm and collected. Just let me smoke a cigarette in front of you, and then I’ll look fucking "cool" too.

When the professor starts talking about existentialism and sitting around in your dorm room asking yourself why you are unhappy, I realize that God is up there laughing at me. When he says, not He, says, “You are not shaped by you, but who you meet,” I know God hates me. I can hear him up there going “hahaha." It could have just been the heating system being tempermental too.

01-14-04

It’s kind of a contest -- at least in my head it feels like we are battling. This is war: who can look like they care less?

I’m losing.

My professor is rambling something about how adjectives and verbs will "bring a story to life.”

“Wow, groundbreaking shit,” I think to myself between daydreaming and not paying attention. “This $24,000-a-year education gets better everyday.”

Then out of the corner of my ear, I hear her say, “Hand the paper to the pretty girl in the class,” and all of a sudden I snap out of my boredom-hypnosis.

What did you just say? God, is that you? You again? What the fuck?

I guessed she was trying to make some kind of correlation between describing words, but I couldn’t quite figure out what she was getting at. Something like: see, when I just say “prettiest girl in the class” you don’t know who I am talking about, but if you use words like “one of the prettiest girls in the world, you would know what I meant.”

Yes, I do, I know what you mean.

Everyone begins to chuckle, and I smile to fit in.

I look over at her, and almost simultaneously she looks away, towards the floor, and her cheeks turn bright red, and she smiles this wide smile.

I am pretty sure I know what she is thinking at that moment: “I win.”

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