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i'm wearing eye makeup today. i put on a little blush, but i really shouldn't have, since i've been blushy pretty much all day.

first, i had an appointment with fred, where i smiled my "i can't talk about this EEEEEEEE!" smile of embarrassment, and told him that this crush was really fucking me up! then i started getting all melancholy and down on me, and my relationship, and how i hate babies, but don't really HATE them, and everything was wrapped up in a big ol' self-hate-on.

fred had to let me know that i really shouldn't be looking for a relationship or someone else to "make" me happy or feel good about myself, but that i should do that first. yeah, yeah, stop being so logical. MY LIFE SUCKS RIGHT NOW, OK?? comfort me, dammit!

i told him that i felt insane, but once i was in the class, i felt serene and calm again. the restlessness is gone, like "you really do exist. i have to behave in a completely normal manner since you aren't a fantasy that i can grope and maul at my whim."

i had a lot of things to say, and yet nothing at all, it seems. i would state my opinion, and i guess it was just too darn great or no-one else did the reading at least, since there were silences afterwards. but the discussion was better this time. but of course i was the MOST brilliant. (no i wasn't. but i certainly was the most uhhh...radiant? i kept thinking, "is it hot in here???")

after class, i asked the Prof for the same photocopy-of-a-book-dealy he had given a dude in the class, reviewing the same book as i. we discussed the particularities of the plan and he uttered the golden words: "we should e-mail." i thought i would fall over, since the advice my friend k8 had given me to get closer to him in a studenty fashion was to establish an email rapport. "sure, yes, let's..." the plan involves his dropping off a photocopy of the book i need, if he remembers, which could be a problem in his state of morning-coffee-in-hand-confusion. don't think i didn't start picturing it all. boxers, flannel robe, the whole bit. no wife was there, though! that was the WUNDERBAR part. mmm.

i left with a nonchalant "great. thanks," and came here to email him anyway. just to, you know, avoid any "confusion" he might have in terms of my identity.

first, however, i stopped off in the bathroom, and was pleased that my eyes still looked good, and my shirt was doing some megajustice to my boobs.

but i was still red, perhaps even COMING DOWN off of more redness, and i just looked like a freaking WHORE.

oh.my.god.

remind me to shop for some gothwhite foundation next time i need to talk to him face to face.