Un p'tit rendez-vous.

Well, it's 8:51 PM. I'm sitting at Robert Nesbit's house. He's doing physics while blasting Earth, Wind, and Fire in the background.

Today was spent with Bobina. We hit up Friendly's to get Shirley Temples, because we're children apparently. Then we went mini-golfing, and she won. No, I didn't let her win because she's a girl, she won because she's genuinely better than me at mini-golf. For shame. But I redeemed myself by beating her at arm wrestling. At least with my right hand, but she beat me with her left hand because I was worried I'd break her arm or something, she had it contorted in some weird way that prevented me from pinning her. We watched A Goofy Movie, which I didn't quite enjoy as much as I wanted to, partially because I'm not 6 years old anymore. I showed her some new songs, which was pretty much the most refreshing thing. She's the first person I've showed ANY songs to since Angela left for Georgia late in '08. Having that musical outlet and being able to just unleash that on someone is too good of a feeling. She drew my face while I was playing piano, which was creepy to me at first, but when I realized how scarily accurate it was, I stopped thinking it was so creepy.

That was my day. Nothing more, nothing less. Other than the fact that someone whose name is Robert Mantegani chalked my driveway, writing "KISS HER" and "KISS HER NOW" in big letters, pink and white chalk. Moderately embarrassing, I wasn't blushing or anything, but I could feel my face getting hot when we pulled in to see that. I had to get a frickin' hose without a nozzel, drag it all the way down my frickin' driveway, and then frickin' wash out the chalk before my frickin' mom got frickin' home. But it's cleared up now, other than one other "KISS HER NOW" that was written on the STREET, for fuck's sake.

Nothing more to write. See you tomorrow.

~-~