Sorry about the somewhat obscure song references. This one is from Van Halen. Kris and I were listening to it today at his place.
Well, here goes the story of my day.
Last night, I was on Yahoo and talked to Kris until 2:00 A.M. about some pretty important things. Tomorrow is our 2-week anniversary and also the last day of school. I thought that would be a good time to tell him not to try to sleep with me because I wouldn't do it. But he said something similar first. So he couldn't have been copying off me if he told me that before I told him. At least we're on the same page regarding such matters.
I got about 5 hours of sleep last night.
So then today, I had my last session of American lit, and Dr. Swords commented on my column that was in the paper yesterday (he liked it). A side note, I also got quoted in the DEN earlier this week and two of my poems were published in the Vehicle. Thanks to the STD gang who found my stuff worthy enough for university publication.
Evaluations finished off the course, and then I called Kris so he could come meet me and help me on my poetry project. He said he needed to get a shower, so I didn't know how long that would take. I ended up talking to Derek for about 10 minutes though. Derek is afraid he'll be roommates with Kris in England and I just don't think they would get along well as roomies. Kris told me he was mad at me for not going to England with him, but oh well.
So, Jones showed up around 10:30 or so--pissed off about something. We went to Wal-Mart together and got a black ink cartridge and then he went to the video store to return some movies and after that, went to Taco Bell for some lunch. But we eventually got around to working on that project. It was drama.
I will spare the long story, but basically, we wasted a LOT of paper and ink trying to print off my stupid poems. It was insane. I kept telling him I could try it at home, but he was bound and determined to print them off at his place. I was like whatever. Finally we got it figured out though. Afterwards, we sat on the couch and talked. Well, he wasn't saying much and I had a pretty good idea what he was thinking. Finally he asked if I wasn't too embarrassed or uncomfortable would I kiss him. I said I supposed I'd give it a try. Keep in mind, I'd never kissed a guy on the lips before. It was weird, wet, and I really didn't like it. But then, nothing against Kris--I never really liked being kissed by my mom or dad or anybody anyway. We made a few tentative plans for the summer--hiking/picnic in Indiana and some all-day trip to Indy. I asked him how long the Indy trip would take and he said all day. I asked, "So I'd get home that night then?" and he said, "Well, we are not staying all night" so that made me feel more comfortable.
Then it was time for fiction.
Jessi wrote a very disturbing piece about murder. It seriously gave me the creeps. So I told Kris and he told me about a story he wrote about a murder. I was like you're scaring me. He says he based it on stuff he'd read, and to be honest, it sounded a lot like E.A. Poe. He tried to get me to stay for his fiction class, but I said no I needed to do stuff tonight.
Brandy and I went to Effingham and I picked up an application at the place Rachel works. I'm probably not qualified to work there, but whatever. Also, we had supper at Little Caesar's and saw Lisa for a while, and went to Wal-Mart. I am proud of myself for driving on the interstate today and Tuesday. I know, it's really no big deal, but I'd never driven the interstate by myself before Tuesday.
When we got back, Brandy and I rode 4-wheelers a while and then I finally came home. It was a fairly big day and I'm really tired. I need to put my book together tonight though, because it is due tomorrow. Yikes. Plus, I'm going to try to work tomorrow morning before school and then go to Celebration with Kris after class and then hang out with Brandy after that. Lots of plans.
I apologize if I talk about Kris too much. This whole thing is new to me, and I've been around him a lot lately, so a lot of my day is about him.
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