He sort of makes guest appearances on this blog because he's sort of kind of a Courtney-classified hero (hasn't always been that way, but now it is) and I just adore every single bit of him. I like you a mil, Plaid Shirt.
He's a democrat who doesn't vote and that's why I'd be nervous to introduce him to my parents, but if you pick out a war in European history, he could tell you ten facts about it, as well as spout off the architectural style of the period. And then, he'd want to have a conversation about it with you. He's my favorite human and here's why:
+Tonight, he sat on the couch with me and watched The Kardashians for three hours. THREE. Minimal complaining, a little bit of iPhone gaming (understandable) and mostly just a whole lotta intrigue.
+Before going into the kitchen, he announced, I'm going to get a glass of water in the kitchen. Do you want me to bring you a Diet Coke? At which point, I could've just kissed his face.
+He got a blanket from my bed, brought it to the couch, and it covered both of us equally. Twenty minutes later, the blanket was wrapped around me, with just the tiniest corner covering his upper thigh. He wasn't bothered. Shaking from the cold with his hands in his pockets, yes, but no complaints.
+He came to my house because I was overly-excited to show him the tinsel on my Christmas tree. And he even pretended to be excited about it, too.
+He didn't say anything about my bangs being split down the middle in lieu of a really bad hair day. Instead, he told me You look pretty without makeup and even though I think that compliment is boring and overused, it made me feel like a million sparkly Christmas ornaments. Turns out the thing is overused for a reason.
+He stood up to leave around midnight. I stayed on the couch. Within a minute, he had his things packed up, his jacket on, boots tied up (sigh, those boots!), hand on the door handle and I said Wait! You can't leave until I turn off all the lights. He stayed by that door until the last lights of the Christmas tree were out.
+He was reading over my shoulder while I wrote and since that is literally the thing I hate most and he knows it, I pushed my palm to his face and he licked my hand. Then, we had a conversation like Your saliva doesn't bother me because we used to kiss, so this palm thing is really not new territory. He said good point and licked me again.
+He told me about some of his insecurities and I got to tell him how he was wonderful and how he made me feel wonderful, too. And then, he smiled the Jude Law smile (visual here).
+After an hour of begging to watch Titanic, he pitched a bold settlement: I will watch that movie, start to finish, with you on your birthday and that's the best I can do. I just really like his guts.
So, Plaid Shirt,
our lives are mundane and nights typically finish with Jimmy Kimmel, but you're my best friend and I know my roommate doesn't like you, but I think you're just, like, totally rad.
Maybe one day, I'll catch the Jude Law thing on film and you can all see what I'm talking about. Maybe I won't, though, because I sort of think it's magical that you all just picture me running around with Jude Law all the time.