*sigh*
Having dragged myself through an agonising hour and a half of biochemistry (MY NEMESIS), I am tossing up whether I want to go straight to bed or watch an episode of QI or try to write something.
The college library is a great place to study now that they've stopped blasting the air conditioning up to Antarctic levels. There's a vending machine nearby (SMARTIES om nom nom), and there's usually tea and coffee available in the common room nearby, and tonight I stopped to have a brief chat with one of the college girls who serves as a librarian, and upon whom I am developing a rather hopeless crush. (We have the same taste in books! She's cute!) DAMMIT. My next two evenings involve, respectively, being taught salsa by a very nice guy and being taken out to dinner by another guy who -- from my admittedly alcohol-infused memory of our first meeting -- is if not nice at least very sharp and witty. PERFECTLY GOOD PROSPECTS. So of course I'm going through one of my Fahye Is An Enormous Lesbian Sometimes phases. Seriously! Last night I dreamt that I was flirting with someone who looked a lot like a young Tilda Swinton (thumbs up, subconscious) but of course when I woke up I remembered that I am a) as ever, single as a very single thing, and b) actually pretty much incapable of flirting.
Whhyyyyy must I have no gaydar whatsoever? Why can't girls just read my mind and hit on me?
*kicks unreasonably at the world*
The college library is a great place to study now that they've stopped blasting the air conditioning up to Antarctic levels. There's a vending machine nearby (SMARTIES om nom nom), and there's usually tea and coffee available in the common room nearby, and tonight I stopped to have a brief chat with one of the college girls who serves as a librarian, and upon whom I am developing a rather hopeless crush. (We have the same taste in books! She's cute!) DAMMIT. My next two evenings involve, respectively, being taught salsa by a very nice guy and being taken out to dinner by another guy who -- from my admittedly alcohol-infused memory of our first meeting -- is if not nice at least very sharp and witty. PERFECTLY GOOD PROSPECTS. So of course I'm going through one of my Fahye Is An Enormous Lesbian Sometimes phases. Seriously! Last night I dreamt that I was flirting with someone who looked a lot like a young Tilda Swinton (thumbs up, subconscious) but of course when I woke up I remembered that I am a) as ever, single as a very single thing, and b) actually pretty much incapable of flirting.
Whhyyyyy must I have no gaydar whatsoever? Why can't girls just read my mind and hit on me?
*kicks unreasonably at the world*
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I also think salsa is a great excuse to get close to a body and see how he moves without having to get naked. XD
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*shrieks in amusement*
i'm not sure if i should congratulate your taste, or get all defensive... can't have other women crushing on my Wife...
:P
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Dammit. Problem with this is, I now have concrete evidence against her assertion that no one is ever in the least attracted to her. But it's not the sort of evidence I'm ever going to be able to bring out, because that would be just Weird in for all concerned.
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Okay, yeah, maybe we should just keep this one quiet in the name of avoiding Awkwardness.
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Yup. I keep few secrets, but this shall be one of them.
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Something Arthurian (http://fahye.livejournal.com/473881.html)
&
something Shakesperean (http://mercurial-wit.livejournal.com/36452.html)
&
something original (http://fahye.livejournal.com/494125.html).
& also a Harry Potter (http://mercurial-wit.livejournal.com/40243.html) fic that doesn't actually have a lot to do with Harry Potter, and a Pirates of the Caribbean (http://mercurial-wit.livejournal.com/38921.html) fic that, uh, why not?
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I'll check the others out later on :)
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bah, now you've got me thinking of one particular scene that would make fabulous ficerotica... but the amount of research i'd have to do to write the character, let alone learning to write sex properly, is well beyond my schedule at the moment.
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entirely.