January 31, 2012
small talk, revisited.
i wear blue tights with red shirts, and yellow tights with everything else.
and what's worse? i have teacher hands.
long bony fingers, even longer nail beds, and dark blue veins. lots of them.
i even delight in marking the parts of speech with red pen in my novels.
i am losing the fight against the scholastic world at a rapid pace.
destined to be a teacher, i am.
even programmed to produce offspring with vein-y teacher hands for generations to come.
however, until i figure out how to make the boy next door love me, aforementioned generations will not belong to him.
i should have made it clear that we are not exactly on the same page, he and i.
as of last week, he has begun courting a girl who is totally indie-rad and completely fabulous.
she parts her long hair down the middle, rocks the aztec print messenger bag, and looks something similar to wednesday addams. but she is witty, and heaven knows i'd like to be her.
and if the two of them cross over into married land, my posterity is in serious jeopardy.
say goodbye to teacher hands and the jolly disposition of a christmas elf.
sorry, kids. i'm trying.