flirting with men wearing beards
If I were in a band I would cover Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset, by Modest Mouse, Straight to You, by Nick Cave and the Badseeds, and Earth Died Screaming, by Tom Waits.
I think that should be sufficient to make me an American idol.
Yesterday Joe woke me up by pounding on my door... so I could ride with him four hours... to pick up his puppy.
I know I said a week ago that I was going to cut out all unavoidable interaction with Joe (and Winter), but he really actually needed my help.
It's a Mastif puppy, and so it's huge, and there's *no way* he could have handled it for four hours.
Let's back up, shall we? Friday I attended a study group for Math, and then studied in the library until the late afternoon, where I attended a talk on West Germanic morphophonemics, and then I returned to the library.
Among the stacks on the ninth floor I felt my head get heavy until all the tiny pricks from life's painful darts in the last few months all converged beneath my eyes and pushed out a release of tears that I have longed for.
It was success, indeed, for we all know that crying isn't allowed in February, because that would require letting my guard down, and then February could take advantage of me.
I barely got that in, and it was a good cry. Followed by a few more detections of phenomena in Ocieanic languages.
As a note, I was the only general linguist at the talk (the others were Germanic) and this earned for me praise from the professor. I also noticed a cute, bearded fellow who continued to smile at me, intentionally.
Though smiling boys are lovely to encounter I much prefer the talking boys, though.
In the evening we attended the birthday party of the deep-voiced, tall, Aaron.
(Though his voice is just like a Serban's, he is actually from Arizon, and not New Mexico, so that's my bad).
Aaron has also grown a beard for the winter, which I'd never seen since it'd been a few months. A very nice red color, though. He greeted me, I told him happy birthday, and then he poured me a glass of bourbon.
Now, we all know that this is my drink, but this young man is far more educated than I. I believe he had about 12 different varieties at the party, and he started me off with his best.
Throughout the night, though, I was flirting harmlessly with Mike, because he's evasive and pretentiously aloof. These sort of demeanors make me want to draw a guy out, but I know that the guy is generally not worth drawing out.
I'd flirted with Mike briefly a couple of weeks ago, and was surprised to see that he also now had a full beard.
They all looked dashing, I thought, and I also am thrilled with anticipation to see them shaved.
You see, I only enjoy winter for the increased value it lends the coming of spring.
Mike is a beligerent little Citadel graduate who's father will be on 60 Minutes this Friday (aparently his daddy is supposed to find Bin Laden...?), but Aaron is a brilliant and engaging gentleman.
A real gentleman.
He didn't want me to leave when I did, but there was no choice. He'll be at today's Super Bowl party, and I'm interested in learning more of what he has to offer.
Joe asked about these guys, and then changed his mind and decided he didn't want to know. Maybe because he can't grow a beard?
Yesterday was another brick in our friendship, though, and I'm happy to be forming a strong foundation there. So is he.
At the end of the carride I expressed how happy I was to have had the day's opportunity to talk to him, and he said I can always talk to him whenever I want. I love how he at least knows the right thing to say.
In closing, and to wrap up the bearded man stories, I went to the Vid for a beer before going to bed last night, and ran into Brittney.
His name is actually Chris, and he hasn't shaved in a week.
I still don't know if he'll call me, but he could if he wanted to.
I slept better than I have in months last night. In fact, I fell asleep before I finished thinking my thoughts, and then I slept dreamlessly, and awoke refreshed.
Praise God.
