I saw Thrice, the most amazing band in the world to me, play at Slim's with the best people in the world, my housemates, Catherine and Morgan.
These Arms Are Snakes were pretty good and insane. The singer kept unbuttoning his shirt and lifting it, exposing his cute, white tummy while he screamed/sang into the microphone. So that wasn't so bad.
If you ever get the chance to see one of the things that makes you most happy, do it. I haven't seen Thrice since my sophomore year in high school. And even then, I was standing by the bar at the House of Blues, far from the crowd of moshers and crowd surfers.
But no, no, no, to really experience your favorite band's music, one must stand three feet away from your favorite band member (for me it was Teppei, the lead guitarist--not my fave band member, but the only one closest to me), feel the pressure of a thousand people rubbing against you (it was probably 100+), and endure their sweatiness as well (my jeans were drenched after the show). As soon as the first song started, one could feel the crowd move like one entity to the beat of the drums (Riley was in top form). Your feet lift up, if you're short enough (I am), and if there's more than enough people pushing in all directions against you, it's as if you're in the sea. Only this was a sea of hot, sweaty people. Make sure your friends are okay and stick together--it's so much funner when you're not doing this alone. When that crowd surfer comes slowly toward you, grab his ankle and push him toward the hot security guard who will get him out of the way for you. And if you get kicked in the face by a crowd surfer, push him harder. Don't worry, the music makes you numb.
Sing/scream/mouthe the words at the top of your lungs and headbang until you get aforementioned hot security guard to notice your passionate self and pass you a bottle of water, because, that was intense rocking out, and you need some h2o. Pass that bottle around because you're surrounded by other music passionate people who need to quench their thirst. Or go insane and drench everyone in the crowd if the music's just right (it was).
Then, when the band leaves the stage, you better fucking stay and demand encore. You do not leave. You chant encore until they come back and do 3 more songs, one of them an oldie, but a goodie. Sing. Scream. While headbanging simultaneously. Repeat. Then when it's really over, stay again so that when the roadies clean up, they can toss guitar picks and drumsticks at you. If you're lucky, you might get one. Maybe next time.
Walk back to your car in the cold, night air and rehash what just happened. Be nice to the drunk lady who was also at the concert and is following you to your car. Drive to Nation's, get some sustenance, and continue conversations on band's performance. Too tired to shower off the stench and sweat of a thousand people, fall asleep on your bed despite the ringing in your ears and dream of the next concert, the one where you'll catch that tossed drumstick and maybe get it signed by the ridiculously hot drummer.
So, do it, do it, do it. Or, when my fave band is back in town, come with me and we can do it together.
That was my Sunday night. Taking chances to see/experience what you love.
You can find me here now: http://cakeandtea.blogspot.com/. My new username is Phoebe Caulfield, after the character in Catcher in the Rye. I remember my brother calling me his "Phoebe Caulfield" in a letter he wrote me. Prufrock is gone, even my posts here have been changed. I had a great time here all, but this is a good move.
If you plan on commenting on my new blog, please, do not mention this blog or my old screenname. It's gone and past. These blogs will be separate and neither will be linked to each other.
Have an amazing day and rest of the week.
mercredi, octobre 11, 2006
samedi, octobre 07, 2006
post 280: sunny day
Ahhh! Post 280! We're getting close!
It's sunny today, of all the days that I must stay inside and get homework done. Went to Costco to find a car cover for the car my parents bought me which I don't deserve, a new Honda Civic. I asked if I could bring up my old car, but it's pretty old and they don't trust it, so they bought me a new one. It's gorgeous and works wonderfully. They told me they got it because they're afraid that the old car might break down and that they're so proud of all my "hard work". I think they're just glad that I finally got a job. I'm so spoiled. Why are my parents so good to me?
Also went to the farmer's market and bought tomatoes and green beans. Yum. I'm trying to incorporate more vegetables in my diet. Also bought a rice cooker and cooked my first batch of brown rice. It turned out tasty.
Matt, my cinema friend's birthday, was the other day. He turned 21. Unfortunately I couldn't go because I had to work. That night, before the party, his best friend that was throwing the party called me. It was an interesting conversation.
Him: Hey, Elaine, so I heard you can't make it to the party?
Me: No, sorry. I really want to be there, but I have to work.
Him: When do you get off?
Me: Midnight.
Him: Well, we still might be partying...I mean, Matt really wants you to be there (he pauses)...I mean, you know, he wants everyone to be there.
I paused for a second. Matt wants me to be there?
Me: Call me up after midnight, and maybe I'll meet up with you guys. (I hang up.)
Matt wants me to be there? This intrigued me for the rest of my shift. I could not, for the life of me, work properly. What does this mean? Why did his best friend make the effort to call me? I could tell that he slipped that "wants you to be there" on purpose--it was like he planned to say it, but wanted to cover it up. L., my roommate, went and I called her after my shift. They were in the city. I didn't want to drive in, and it was pretty late, so I went home. Anyway, we'll see what develops in the following weeks...
And there's yet another boy at work who intrigues me...the boy who brought me milk and cereal (see post 277). I was at the desk the other night, and he waved to me, and my heart did a backflip. Why does stuff like this happen to me? All he did was wave to me, and I have a mini cardiac arrest. He came into the office to study at the desk behind me again. He ordered pizza for us to share.
"That's not fair, you keep buying me stuff!" I said.
"When did I buy you stuff?" he asked.
I mentioned the milk, a bottle of water that he bought me, and now this.
"It's part of my meal plan," he said. He gets money on his student id card for working/living in the dorms. He could use that money at the vending machines and at the market/pizza place that caters to the on-campus residents. He paused for a while, giving me time to contemplate the gift of late-night eating. Our backs were to each other. Him at his desk; me at mine. He could not see that I was smiling to myself, blushing, biting at my lip like I always do when boys are the perfect combination of loveliness and chivalry and my heart is doing backflips.
He added, jokingly, "You don't have to make out with me or anything..."
My eyes opened wide, my heart burst at its seams. What a comment to say! I didn't turn in my seat. I don't think he expected a reaction out of me, given that he knows that I am a shy person. I was shocked and flattered, rendered speechless. I didn't say anything until the pizza came.
Boys are so crazy sometimes!
It's sunny today, of all the days that I must stay inside and get homework done. Went to Costco to find a car cover for the car my parents bought me which I don't deserve, a new Honda Civic. I asked if I could bring up my old car, but it's pretty old and they don't trust it, so they bought me a new one. It's gorgeous and works wonderfully. They told me they got it because they're afraid that the old car might break down and that they're so proud of all my "hard work". I think they're just glad that I finally got a job. I'm so spoiled. Why are my parents so good to me?
Also went to the farmer's market and bought tomatoes and green beans. Yum. I'm trying to incorporate more vegetables in my diet. Also bought a rice cooker and cooked my first batch of brown rice. It turned out tasty.
Matt, my cinema friend's birthday, was the other day. He turned 21. Unfortunately I couldn't go because I had to work. That night, before the party, his best friend that was throwing the party called me. It was an interesting conversation.
Him: Hey, Elaine, so I heard you can't make it to the party?
Me: No, sorry. I really want to be there, but I have to work.
Him: When do you get off?
Me: Midnight.
Him: Well, we still might be partying...I mean, Matt really wants you to be there (he pauses)...I mean, you know, he wants everyone to be there.
I paused for a second. Matt wants me to be there?
Me: Call me up after midnight, and maybe I'll meet up with you guys. (I hang up.)
Matt wants me to be there? This intrigued me for the rest of my shift. I could not, for the life of me, work properly. What does this mean? Why did his best friend make the effort to call me? I could tell that he slipped that "wants you to be there" on purpose--it was like he planned to say it, but wanted to cover it up. L., my roommate, went and I called her after my shift. They were in the city. I didn't want to drive in, and it was pretty late, so I went home. Anyway, we'll see what develops in the following weeks...
And there's yet another boy at work who intrigues me...the boy who brought me milk and cereal (see post 277). I was at the desk the other night, and he waved to me, and my heart did a backflip. Why does stuff like this happen to me? All he did was wave to me, and I have a mini cardiac arrest. He came into the office to study at the desk behind me again. He ordered pizza for us to share.
"That's not fair, you keep buying me stuff!" I said.
"When did I buy you stuff?" he asked.
I mentioned the milk, a bottle of water that he bought me, and now this.
"It's part of my meal plan," he said. He gets money on his student id card for working/living in the dorms. He could use that money at the vending machines and at the market/pizza place that caters to the on-campus residents. He paused for a while, giving me time to contemplate the gift of late-night eating. Our backs were to each other. Him at his desk; me at mine. He could not see that I was smiling to myself, blushing, biting at my lip like I always do when boys are the perfect combination of loveliness and chivalry and my heart is doing backflips.
He added, jokingly, "You don't have to make out with me or anything..."
My eyes opened wide, my heart burst at its seams. What a comment to say! I didn't turn in my seat. I don't think he expected a reaction out of me, given that he knows that I am a shy person. I was shocked and flattered, rendered speechless. I didn't say anything until the pizza came.
Boys are so crazy sometimes!
dimanche, octobre 01, 2006
post 279: alan smithee
I participated in a 24 hour filmmaking festival, and I am beat. But, I have enough strength the write a decent post, I think.
The Alan Smithee festival started Friday at noon. Groups are given packets with a genre and certain things that need to be in our films. We write, shoot, and edit our films in 24 HOURS!!! It's insane. Arrived on campus to meet with group after my field trip for one of my classes around 5. I knew three people (Brian, Ryan, and Vicki) in the group, the other people are older and in production and animation classes. We got the genre sci-fi, so they were pounding out a time travel film. We first filmed in the animation room where they have a blue screen--totally cool. Our main actors, Chris and Peter, are hilarious and very good at improv.
We filmed at school, then ate dinner at the mall, then took the Muni downtown so that we can film at the Muni stations. It was awesome, but tiring. I talked to Peter, an animation major, a bit on the bus. He looks like Jack Black's double, is extremely hilarious, and can do voice impressions very well. He asked me about my shoes, an old pair of Roos (they have zippered pockets on the sides).
"What do you keep in there?" He motioned to the pockets.
"Lucky pennies that I find on the ground," I answered.
We shot in a long underground hallway at the MUNI station. I was the camera operator for a bit, sitting on a longboard and being pushed to film a shot of feet running. It was fun. I started swerving and fell off the longboard, but I saved the camera! I would sacrifice my body to save film, it seems. Everyone asked if I was okay, but I laughed it off. While sitting on the longboard for another shot, Peter was nearby. He dropped a penny nearby me, it landed heads up. I picked it up and held it out for him.
"It's yours," he said.
I think I went, "Aaaawww!!! Thanks!" I was so happy. A boy gives me a lucky penny, and I am floored. I put it in my shoe pocket.
We shot some more downtown. While waiting for a bus, Peter took out another penny and put it on the tracks because a cable car was going to drive by. It flattened it, or as Romero, the Brazilian director in our group said, "It got squeezed!" I laughed so hard at his lovely diction. Peter took his "squeezed" penny and handed it to me. Again, my heart twirled.
After filming, we went to Brian's apartment to film a party scene and to later edit our film. Jennifer, one of the writers, and Romero asked if I could play the love interest that Chris likes. I agreed! Chris and Peter were supposed to travel in time to go back to the party and get my number. It was fun acting, but I don't think I'm good at it--not as good as Chris and Peter. Peter was in top form, I had to restrain myself from laughing at his lines.
We stayed up all night. Romero, Ryan, and Jennifer were doing most of the editing. Chris and Peter wanted to watch Star Wars and put on Empire Strikes Back. I napped 4 times and watched a bit of the movie in between naps. What an awesome time. We finished around 11:30 in the morning, watched the final cut (so funny!), and dropped off our film.
I love meeting people through film, especially when they're funny boys who give me squeezed pennies.
The Alan Smithee festival started Friday at noon. Groups are given packets with a genre and certain things that need to be in our films. We write, shoot, and edit our films in 24 HOURS!!! It's insane. Arrived on campus to meet with group after my field trip for one of my classes around 5. I knew three people (Brian, Ryan, and Vicki) in the group, the other people are older and in production and animation classes. We got the genre sci-fi, so they were pounding out a time travel film. We first filmed in the animation room where they have a blue screen--totally cool. Our main actors, Chris and Peter, are hilarious and very good at improv.
We filmed at school, then ate dinner at the mall, then took the Muni downtown so that we can film at the Muni stations. It was awesome, but tiring. I talked to Peter, an animation major, a bit on the bus. He looks like Jack Black's double, is extremely hilarious, and can do voice impressions very well. He asked me about my shoes, an old pair of Roos (they have zippered pockets on the sides).
"What do you keep in there?" He motioned to the pockets.
"Lucky pennies that I find on the ground," I answered.
We shot in a long underground hallway at the MUNI station. I was the camera operator for a bit, sitting on a longboard and being pushed to film a shot of feet running. It was fun. I started swerving and fell off the longboard, but I saved the camera! I would sacrifice my body to save film, it seems. Everyone asked if I was okay, but I laughed it off. While sitting on the longboard for another shot, Peter was nearby. He dropped a penny nearby me, it landed heads up. I picked it up and held it out for him.
"It's yours," he said.
I think I went, "Aaaawww!!! Thanks!" I was so happy. A boy gives me a lucky penny, and I am floored. I put it in my shoe pocket.
We shot some more downtown. While waiting for a bus, Peter took out another penny and put it on the tracks because a cable car was going to drive by. It flattened it, or as Romero, the Brazilian director in our group said, "It got squeezed!" I laughed so hard at his lovely diction. Peter took his "squeezed" penny and handed it to me. Again, my heart twirled.
After filming, we went to Brian's apartment to film a party scene and to later edit our film. Jennifer, one of the writers, and Romero asked if I could play the love interest that Chris likes. I agreed! Chris and Peter were supposed to travel in time to go back to the party and get my number. It was fun acting, but I don't think I'm good at it--not as good as Chris and Peter. Peter was in top form, I had to restrain myself from laughing at his lines.
We stayed up all night. Romero, Ryan, and Jennifer were doing most of the editing. Chris and Peter wanted to watch Star Wars and put on Empire Strikes Back. I napped 4 times and watched a bit of the movie in between naps. What an awesome time. We finished around 11:30 in the morning, watched the final cut (so funny!), and dropped off our film.
I love meeting people through film, especially when they're funny boys who give me squeezed pennies.
dimanche, septembre 24, 2006
post 278: click to unwrap
I received this beautiful comment on post 277:
Anonymous said...
Oh, this is lovely. I've been reading your journal for a while (even back in the "boy with glasses" days--how wonderfully fall that feels! if that makes sense to you), and it so often makes me smile. I, too, am a fan of those sweet small moments. Please don't delete your journal after you're done! I'm sad to see you go, already (can you be convince otherwise?), and not having any of this to look back on would be so sad.
dimanche, septembre 24, 2006 9:32:51 PM
And this one a while back:
Het said...
OH Elaine. This makes me so sad. I understand your reasons - but I will miss hearing about your life. I will miss reading about your interactions with people in your life. I will miss watching you continue to blossom.
I will miss you.
samedi, août 19, 2006 8:38:43 PM
Thank you. Wow, two people, not including me, care about this blog. You and Het have taken the time to comment and that means so much to me. It's a beautiful gift, if clicking on a link can be compared to unwrapping a present. "the boy with glasses" days seem so long ago. has it really been two years?
I've made a decision. And I'm going to tell you a secret--just for you, dear faithful readers:
I won't delete this blog. I'll let it linger through the interwebs. Maybe some lucky person will find it, read it, be inspired by life, love, and all that is good.
Here's the secret: I'm moving on from "till human voices wake us", and instead, I'll be writing in a new blog, one that I've already started and kept secret from you. It's still a Blogger blog, but I got a new domain name, a different username, and I'm no longer "Prufrock". That blog will be revealed in my last post here. I'm closing the chapter "till human voices wake us" and starting a new one. "till human voices wake us" has shown how much can happen in two years--change, growth, and so many other beautiful things. It's only natural to move on and start somewhere fresh and new, like a new piece of paper.
All three reasons for leaving (seen in Aug. 18. 2006 post) still apply but with different meanings:
1. It's time. Because it really is time to leave "till human voices wake us".
2. Let go. Because I do have to let go of this blog by not writing in it anymore and letting it stand on its own. This is the first chapter written--the second one is on its way.
3. Love. Because I love you, and I would hate to leave you like this by deleting everything about me. I want you to remember me. How can you remember me if I delete this blog? I also want you to love others still like I stated before.
So, faithful reader, stick around for there is no end in sight. And for new readers, I hope you will join me for this wonderful journey.
With all the love in the universe,
Elaine
Anonymous said...
Oh, this is lovely. I've been reading your journal for a while (even back in the "boy with glasses" days--how wonderfully fall that feels! if that makes sense to you), and it so often makes me smile. I, too, am a fan of those sweet small moments. Please don't delete your journal after you're done! I'm sad to see you go, already (can you be convince otherwise?), and not having any of this to look back on would be so sad.
dimanche, septembre 24, 2006 9:32:51 PM
And this one a while back:
Het said...
OH Elaine. This makes me so sad. I understand your reasons - but I will miss hearing about your life. I will miss reading about your interactions with people in your life. I will miss watching you continue to blossom.
I will miss you.
samedi, août 19, 2006 8:38:43 PM
Thank you. Wow, two people, not including me, care about this blog. You and Het have taken the time to comment and that means so much to me. It's a beautiful gift, if clicking on a link can be compared to unwrapping a present. "the boy with glasses" days seem so long ago. has it really been two years?
I've made a decision. And I'm going to tell you a secret--just for you, dear faithful readers:
I won't delete this blog. I'll let it linger through the interwebs. Maybe some lucky person will find it, read it, be inspired by life, love, and all that is good.
Here's the secret: I'm moving on from "till human voices wake us", and instead, I'll be writing in a new blog, one that I've already started and kept secret from you. It's still a Blogger blog, but I got a new domain name, a different username, and I'm no longer "Prufrock". That blog will be revealed in my last post here. I'm closing the chapter "till human voices wake us" and starting a new one. "till human voices wake us" has shown how much can happen in two years--change, growth, and so many other beautiful things. It's only natural to move on and start somewhere fresh and new, like a new piece of paper.
All three reasons for leaving (seen in Aug. 18. 2006 post) still apply but with different meanings:
1. It's time. Because it really is time to leave "till human voices wake us".
2. Let go. Because I do have to let go of this blog by not writing in it anymore and letting it stand on its own. This is the first chapter written--the second one is on its way.
3. Love. Because I love you, and I would hate to leave you like this by deleting everything about me. I want you to remember me. How can you remember me if I delete this blog? I also want you to love others still like I stated before.
So, faithful reader, stick around for there is no end in sight. And for new readers, I hope you will join me for this wonderful journey.
With all the love in the universe,
Elaine
dimanche, septembre 17, 2006
post 277: a good day at work
I got a job at the dorms at school if you don't already know. I'm the front desk person, almost like a receptionist. Students call me if they have problems in their rooms, I process packages, and I answer the phone.
There's a guy who is the assistant resident director for the whole building named Jason. He's a student too. Sometimes he hangs around during my shifts either working or studying in the office where I am. He sits at the desk behind me. Lately, he's been there a lot and always asks me when I'm working. When I tell him when, he says, "Oh, cool, I might be in here studying."
The paranoid pessimist in me thinks that he's just there to make sure that I'm doing my job right. That he's just there to keep tabs on me. But I don't know...he talks to me a lot, when I'm not doing anything and just minding the desk.
Yesterday, he was at the desk behind me studying. He asked me something about my pics on MySpace (I added him the night before when he gave me his MySpace address). I turned around to see that he had my MySpace up on the computer. We started talking about MySpace, our families, and other things. He asked, "Are you shy? Because I get this shy vibe..." I think I laughed, blushed, and tried to recover quickly. I said, "Yeah, but I'm trying..." I couldn't finish my sentence. I'm trying not to be so shy, I wanted to say. An RA walked in, and our conversation ended. I went back to studying, and so did he.
After a bit, he asked me if I wanted some Puffins--a cereal. I said sure. He left the office, came back with 2 carton pints of milk from the vending machine, went to his room (which is by his office), and came back with bowls, spoons, and two kinds of cereal: Puffins and Lego waffles. He handed me one of the boxes of milk.
"You bought the milk?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"That's so nice..." I remarked while holding the carton of milk in my hand. There's something so sweet about that little gesture that made me weak and my heart flutter. He bought me a carton of milk. The simple things are the key to my heart.
We sat in our office chairs eating cereal, watching freshmen come in and out of the building. We sat in silence, which was lovely. I love not having to speak when I don't need to. He had a second bowl of cereal, and I drank out of the carton of milk. Then he got a call on his cell--all the directors and RAs have cells for their work. There was a problem on the 6th floor, so he had to go resolve it.
My shift was almost over, so I said, "Thanks for the cereal. I might not see you before you get back--my shift's almost over." He said, while finishing up his cereal, "Hopefully, I'll be back before you leave."
I waited two minutes after my shift, and then I started getting read to leave. I wrote a note on scratch paper: "Jason, Thanks for the cereal! It was nice talking to you. Elaine". I left it on his textbook. While I was gathering stuff, he walks in and goes, "AAH!" pretending to be scared. I said, "Bye" and he said, "Be safe". I didn't mention anything about the note. I like surprising people with notes.
What a beautiful day at work. I probably shouldn't get my hopes up or anything. I mean, we're just friends. But these little things--the cereal, the milk, the comment about me being shy, the questions we ask each other to get to know each other better. They make me happy.
There's a guy who is the assistant resident director for the whole building named Jason. He's a student too. Sometimes he hangs around during my shifts either working or studying in the office where I am. He sits at the desk behind me. Lately, he's been there a lot and always asks me when I'm working. When I tell him when, he says, "Oh, cool, I might be in here studying."
The paranoid pessimist in me thinks that he's just there to make sure that I'm doing my job right. That he's just there to keep tabs on me. But I don't know...he talks to me a lot, when I'm not doing anything and just minding the desk.
Yesterday, he was at the desk behind me studying. He asked me something about my pics on MySpace (I added him the night before when he gave me his MySpace address). I turned around to see that he had my MySpace up on the computer. We started talking about MySpace, our families, and other things. He asked, "Are you shy? Because I get this shy vibe..." I think I laughed, blushed, and tried to recover quickly. I said, "Yeah, but I'm trying..." I couldn't finish my sentence. I'm trying not to be so shy, I wanted to say. An RA walked in, and our conversation ended. I went back to studying, and so did he.
After a bit, he asked me if I wanted some Puffins--a cereal. I said sure. He left the office, came back with 2 carton pints of milk from the vending machine, went to his room (which is by his office), and came back with bowls, spoons, and two kinds of cereal: Puffins and Lego waffles. He handed me one of the boxes of milk.
"You bought the milk?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"That's so nice..." I remarked while holding the carton of milk in my hand. There's something so sweet about that little gesture that made me weak and my heart flutter. He bought me a carton of milk. The simple things are the key to my heart.
We sat in our office chairs eating cereal, watching freshmen come in and out of the building. We sat in silence, which was lovely. I love not having to speak when I don't need to. He had a second bowl of cereal, and I drank out of the carton of milk. Then he got a call on his cell--all the directors and RAs have cells for their work. There was a problem on the 6th floor, so he had to go resolve it.
My shift was almost over, so I said, "Thanks for the cereal. I might not see you before you get back--my shift's almost over." He said, while finishing up his cereal, "Hopefully, I'll be back before you leave."
I waited two minutes after my shift, and then I started getting read to leave. I wrote a note on scratch paper: "Jason, Thanks for the cereal! It was nice talking to you. Elaine". I left it on his textbook. While I was gathering stuff, he walks in and goes, "AAH!" pretending to be scared. I said, "Bye" and he said, "Be safe". I didn't mention anything about the note. I like surprising people with notes.
What a beautiful day at work. I probably shouldn't get my hopes up or anything. I mean, we're just friends. But these little things--the cereal, the milk, the comment about me being shy, the questions we ask each other to get to know each other better. They make me happy.
jeudi, septembre 07, 2006
post 276: a gift
Another Slate post. I mean, why not?
L. and I were discussing him the other day. How he is the fad, the face of Tiger Beat, because all the cinema girls love him or are attracted to him. We, L. and I, don't want to be attracted to him, but I can't help but feel that quasi-gravitational pull towards him and the schoolgirl shyness take over. L. is stronger than me and has a good platonic feel for him.
Went to the club's office before Film History to hang out. He was there, along with others. He said hi. That recognition makes me special. I sat on the couch and ate a string cheese while he and Brian tried to pry open a locked file cabinet. He asked me to come over, that he "needed Elaine's brain". I obeyed and surveyed the cabinet, but they got it open without my help.
L. came, and we went to Film History together along with Slate. He sat next to me. He made funny comments under his breath about the professor that only L. and I could hear. We stifled our laughter. He asked me for a piece of paper which he later used for drawing a caricature of said professor. Again, laughter ensued. I told him that that paper should be for real notes. He sadly turned the paper over and wrote: "REAL" NOTES on the top along with a sad face. Then he drew a sad face on my notes. When the prof asked who the French major was (I had written it in the survey that she asked us to fill out), and I had raised my hand, he turned and asked me if I was really a French major. By his whisper, I was not able to tell if he was impressed or intrigued, but I want to believe that it was both.
These little things make me smile. The drawings, the laughter. Even when a boy says my name, I can't help but feel a flutter of happiness echoing through my heart and body. It's like a gift from my parents at birth that keeps renewing itself with every person who is acquainted with me.
He didn't get to add the class, and so I won't be seeing him a lot this semestre, but that's okay with me. I shouldn't and don't want to get too attached.
L. and I were discussing him the other day. How he is the fad, the face of Tiger Beat, because all the cinema girls love him or are attracted to him. We, L. and I, don't want to be attracted to him, but I can't help but feel that quasi-gravitational pull towards him and the schoolgirl shyness take over. L. is stronger than me and has a good platonic feel for him.
Went to the club's office before Film History to hang out. He was there, along with others. He said hi. That recognition makes me special. I sat on the couch and ate a string cheese while he and Brian tried to pry open a locked file cabinet. He asked me to come over, that he "needed Elaine's brain". I obeyed and surveyed the cabinet, but they got it open without my help.
L. came, and we went to Film History together along with Slate. He sat next to me. He made funny comments under his breath about the professor that only L. and I could hear. We stifled our laughter. He asked me for a piece of paper which he later used for drawing a caricature of said professor. Again, laughter ensued. I told him that that paper should be for real notes. He sadly turned the paper over and wrote: "REAL" NOTES on the top along with a sad face. Then he drew a sad face on my notes. When the prof asked who the French major was (I had written it in the survey that she asked us to fill out), and I had raised my hand, he turned and asked me if I was really a French major. By his whisper, I was not able to tell if he was impressed or intrigued, but I want to believe that it was both.
These little things make me smile. The drawings, the laughter. Even when a boy says my name, I can't help but feel a flutter of happiness echoing through my heart and body. It's like a gift from my parents at birth that keeps renewing itself with every person who is acquainted with me.
He didn't get to add the class, and so I won't be seeing him a lot this semestre, but that's okay with me. I shouldn't and don't want to get too attached.
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