je veux te voir dans un film pornographique

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I spent the day home alone, with all the windows open, in a long-sleeved shirt of my father's and blue/white print boxers from target.
I smoked seven cigarettes while reading Kurt Vonnegut's Armageddon in Retrospect on the balcony, listening to Parisian electronica. I drank several liters of coffee and ate way too much before showering and glaring at my abdomen as I washed my hair upside down.
I need to fast until the end of spring break. That will give me five days. Perfect.
I felt even more voluptuous as I watched Atonement. The effing DVD says that it's widescreen, but it's not. I was peeved by that for a moment until I got into the movie again and realized that it doesn't really matter all that much, and regardless, it's an amazing film. I cried, blew my nose and let the end credits run while I slipped outside for another cigarette.
I've just finished writing more of my short story and am now talking with Lily online, realizing that in regard to school work or anything like that I haven't done anything significant today... must get to that.

Yesterday I went to Fullerton College with Rick to sit in on his philosophy class. The professor was hilarious and a cute brown-haired boy with staggered writing was sitting next to me. He was using the same pen that I was, so I tapped it with mine and smiled. He smiled back.
Afterwards we went for coffee, talked about Daft Punk and then went to Birch but the movie times for 21 were funky. So we 411'd Harkins in Chino and decided to go there.
Before that, though, we went to the Brea mall so he could stop by at Gap and get some chapstick. It's fucking four dollars for chapstick at Gap. As pretty as it is, I would never. But he gets 50% off for employee discount.
Still. Two fucking dollars for an itty bitty chapstick.
And fuck; Rick works at Gap. Simultaneously oddly surprising and expected.
Then we went to go watch 21.









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