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Jeans slung too low, artfully tattered shirt and carefully mussed hair. They stood awkwardly, holding hands, looking different ways as they waited to buy tickets for Iron Man or something
He edges in, gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and looks quickly away, trying to regain his cool.

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She wears tremendously skinny jeans. On her it looks good.  She has a cute nose and big sleepy eyes with a mouth that looks like it could devour her own head. Which is huge, perched on a skinny frame.

Ah, lollipop girl….


Sharing with someone your favourite places is an oddly intimate act, and anxiety inducing. These places spoke to me, they somehow connected and grounded me to the planet, helping make sense of my place in it, and I had the anxiety that it would be just another place for her.  Which is of course fine, we each have our places that are special to us, that have a story. I guess it was like my ‘mix tape’ of places and I desperately wanted approval.

In the midst of rehearsal I looked over and she had curled up by the mirrors. Wearing a large sweattop and her customary trackpants, she had left her pink tutu on, which was now in ruffled dissarray about her as she slept, one slender leg extended.

It had been nearly 10 years, I’d stopped thinking about you long ago. You’d changed, but then again, so had I. But the instant you spoke, that slightly too deep voice, the naughty laugh and the way you grabbed  my arm when you laughed, it was just like the way it was but more cynical, a little bitter.  While I have significantly more pressing things to remember, I still know your birthday and still remember the way you smelt.

I wonder if it’ll be another 10 years.

I was briefly involved in a love rhombus.
it involved GBG (Gorgeous Ballet Girl), GBGLDB (Gorgeous Ballet Girl Long Distance Boyo), yours truly and SSRM (Somewhat Shady RoomMate)

So I had a thing for GBG, but upon finding out about GBGLDB decided to do the marginally classier thing of being a little bit cautious and subtle.  SSRM had no such qualms and weighed right in, and due to scruffy shadiness (which I can only hope to one day achieve), swept GBG off her feet.It got far too complicated and so its back to a love triangle.

Love polygons suck.

Curled up on the couch, long pale limbs tucked in, hugging herself in an oversized sweattop.  Her feet in stripey socks crammed into the gap between cushions. Wispy hair frames her face as she dreams of catching mice. or something.

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