You know when people just write lyrics in their diaries?
Yeah.
It seems so out of context.
(in this gaudy apartment complex)

I'm trying to paint a flattering, emotional, colorful portrait of my first boyfriend. I mean, literally, on a canvas with acrylic paint.

And the only reference I could find was a picture of him smiling.

If anyone knows Dylan, they know that's not the most accurate portrayal. I might as well make light of it, show the playful side of him that's buried deep within.

He doesn't know I'm painting him. It's going to hang in the foyer and he'll have no idea. I hope he can recognize himself, I mean, he's got his sideways trademark hat and side burns and sideways smile (he's very side oriented).

I went to a get-together on Thursday night. It was awkward at first, but I don't get that feeling - I forget it and channel my energies, tried to make it more comfortable. I invited this new guy named Michael, who's short, in my psychology class, wears a Radiohead sweater and is salivatingly articulate. I hung out with D.C. and it was really fun, I feel like I'm making new friends.

Then things got weird, things got tunnely and warm and I was intoxicated. Whenever that happens I get this huge green buzzy feeling that evelopes me completely, Joel would describe it as uncomfortable, but I see it as a compromise with the drug. Joel wanted to climb in the dryer. We were fucked.

Skyler was running around without his shirt on and said I was going to rape him if he came in the room. I felt really ashamed. Him and all his friends think that the crush I had on him in eighth grade extended until now, that I have this aching desire for him. Which is total bullshit. He's attractive, funny, and interesting - but not my type.

It was okay though. I ate pizza.

Missed anything?
livejournal - 2005-03-02
romantic love - 2005-03-02
caitlin and i - 2005-02-28
the backyard - 2005-02-28
together - 2005-02-27