Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There is no Mr. Friday Night. Would you still love me if I had sour cream all over my lower lip? . . . I'm not sure I want to talk about the date. I just don't know how I feel about sharing that. I will say this for her benefit... he looks like Jeremy with glasses. I mean, Dead. On. . . . I'm trying really hard to not hope for some communication from him, Mr. Friday Morning. I noticed I've started giving everyone names like that. So far, it's Mr. Saturday Night, Mr. Monday Night, and Mr. Friday Morning. Anyway, I think 12 hours would be a bit soon, huh? But that's everyone else's time table. And, it's moot 'cause I already sent him an email. . . . On top of all of this, I was asked out by my friend's brother. I need to get some kind of organizer now. Fuck this dating shit. . . . If you were dead, you'd roll over in your grave. 6:29 p.m. - 2003-06-06 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||