that kind
not a cookie girl (the one who brings around cookies as an excuse to visit boys' apartments--although I have been that in the past)
not a cheerleader (if you need elaboration on the negative stereotypes of cheerleaders, I suggest you read a different blog. Some of my best allusions may elude you)
but one of THOSE girls
the ones who can't talk about anything but their boyfriend.
who can hardly speak a sentence without saying "Well Gage and I," or "Gage thinks," or "I was talking to Gage the other day..." you get it.
And that's right. Gage. The name of my boyfriend. B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D. (See, I told you I was one of those girls).
He got my number on campus (after a discussion about which Peter Pan movie was the best--prompted by a ringtone--C.S. Lewis vs J.R.R. Tolkien, and the unacceptable edits to the recent release of the classic Star Wars movies on BluRay).
and we made plans for that weekend.
Saturday night he asked when he could see me on Sunday.
Sunday we went on a walk.
and now I have a boyfriend. Who I am tickled pink to tell people about (apparently).
I could tell you more. But I'm trying to kick the habit.
Ok, maybe a little bit more.
He's got glasses that rival mine, which is the first thing anyone notices about us when we're together because we are the same sort of hipster-esque intellectuals. I think he's handsome, and the first time he tried to hold my hand his hand was completely asleep (from being pinned behind my shoulders. I was cold) which was hilarious. He's more of a Harry Potter nerd than I am, (believe it or not) and is from Chicago, 25 (just like me!), loves metal bands (not like me), and he is pretty pleased with this whole dating situation (very, very much--like me).
Other important updates:
I am a special ed. aid at an elementary school here, part time. I love it. Yesterday I had a fifth grader ask me if I would take him to Rio (we were studying geography) I think he has a thing for me. Other hilarious things I have heard kids say:
"Do you pull hairs from your chin?"
"No."
"Oh. My Mom does."
"The happiest day of my life was when I was born, even though I was crying, they were tears of joy."
Hearing a second grader sing "Baby" by Justin Bieber at the top of his lungs while on the swings.
Seeing a kindergartener come running out of the lunchroom onto the playground yelling "YESSSSSS! SWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGS!!!!" [throws backpack down and dashes to swings].
"I can speak spanish"
"Ok Joe. Tell me something in spanish"
[Joe walks away]
[Joe comes back]
"I can dance in spanish."
"Oh yeah?"
[Joe does the best impression of spanish Buzz Lightyear I have ever seen]
my life is full of love.
