Sunday, July 20, 2003


I wrote an essay last summer, somehwat inspired by that bit Oneesama had on her fic log, about the perfect boy. I never finished the essay itself, mainly because I ran out of things I wanted in a man, but I had listed three specifics-- tall, with kind eyes, and nice hands.

I found the notebook yesterday underneath a pile of clothes and began re-acquainting myself with its contents.

Kind eyes, she decides. The first thing he has to have is eyes that will look at her gently, like her brother does, or her father, in certain moods. Surely, patterning him after the two best men in her life and she couldn't possibly go wrong.

She takes a stray piece of paper and writes it down: kind eyes. Yes, eyes like that boy she watches on television, eyes that will beg her to love him lest he perish, eyes she would never want to say no to.

Next, she jots down the word 'tall'. Well, not _too_ tall like her dad and brother-- whose heights could only be described as towering, but tall enough, or, at the very least, as tall as she was. Height, after all, was the first requirement for proper kissing (or so her elder sister had said, once), and though she wasn't looking for a decorative arm piece, it would be nice if he looked good with her. The world had a bias against women taller than their men.

And nice hands. Hands that needn't do anything special, just hands she can hold and not be afraid. She grins to herself. Yes, after all, she WAS such a fraidy cat. Just hands that will hold hers when she needs them, nothing special.

In fact, nothing about this man need be particularly special at all. He needn't be rich, or immensely gifted, or born with so much talent or intelligence. He needn't be a genius, and no he didn't have to look like some reincarnated Adonis. She didn't need him to be as brave as a fatalist soldier, or as honorable as a king.

All she would ask of him is this--

That he have enough kindness in him for it to shine through his eyes.

And that, to her, is perfect.


I have a generally stupid question, but one I've been meaning to ask for some time now-- if a boy has been talking to his parents about you, and he claims that his mother finds you pretty, is that a good thing, or a bad thing?

Eriol: Ask a stupid question...
Me: Shaddup.

Reni broke up with his girlfriend. I don't know why, but I can claim that I had nothing to do with it. Really. I _meant_ to stay away from the guy and I did it, but it's kind of stupid running from the things you want, especially if he's free and clear as of the moment.

To tell the truth, I never /expected/ to get the guy. I dreamed about it, sure, but to actually have him next to me is exactly that-- something straight out of my delusions.

What's the bad? I would LOVE to say "there is no bad", but there is. Things I have learned to conveniently forget, again, because he makes me far too happy for me to want to ruin it by thinking too much.

Thinking is always a good thing, though. I'd be stupid if I didn't think that.

But why ruin a good thing by overanalyzing it? There's nothing wrong with what we are. Not yet. We aren't even anything yet, and such circular thought processes tend to create nothing but trouble.

Eriol: You do see she's trying to convince herself, not you.
Me: Shaddupandgetouttamyhead, Hiiragizawa!

Is it too early to say I'm in love with this guy? Possibly. So I won't say it.

Not out loud, anyway.

9:32 PM
will you catch me when I fall? :: |

this girl
named Ekai Ungson
find here
or here
or here
or here

listen to the static
"Wonder" - Megan McCauley
"Everyone is Wrong" - The Donnas
"You and Me" - Lifehouse
"Blind" - Lifehouse
"Lonely No More" - Rob Thomas
"Akap" - Imago
"The Difference" - Matchbox Twenty
"Extraordinary" - Liz Phair


angel wings
M. Connie
Ka Edong

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