Oh well

its not going to go anywhere, with the ugly guy, i mean.

I have taken the path I never take with males, and that is the path of ignoring.
i'm not nice, i'm not mean, i just leave him alone.
Thats not me, its never me. I'm the one who smiles coyly from above you, who knows you're interested and is only just a BIT more interesting so you feel not quite as cool. Who laughs at your jokes and asks you questions earnestly.I got so used to the role, too, I'm rather lost without it. But I can't do it with him, I can't. So I ignore and leave alone, and know what? Its kind of okay. Not as satisfying, no, but definitely more classy.
I can't tell you WHY i'm doing it differently, I just didn't feel like I could throw him my typical act. He wouldn't fall for it, he'd be annoyed by it, confused by it, or see right through it. Whatever the reason, it just wasn't me that time around. I had to do something different.

Anyway, on top of that he's bisexual. The thought of me, tiny slim hipped long haired hippie girl competing with some sleek muscled man for his attention revolts me. He'll take whatever he can get? No thank you, I thought he had a bit more thoughtfulness than that. Its trippy to even think about.

I'm rather surprisingly disappointed.

assessment two

I feel sexy today. I am wearing a mens button down with a bra underneath, and my bangs are grown out so they're just skimming my eyelashes.
even my lips are pouting properly.

just you wait, mr somebody

Now I know How Girls Fall For Ugly guys

I like this guy.

He's rude and blunt and obvious and its all very honest, but just dishonest enough to let you know he's really rather tender.

Just my kind of guy.

Our interactions have been short and meaningless:

"I hate you cuz you smile too much."
"oh i'm sorry, I'll do my best to stop."
and we both go on our ways.

I'm sitting and he's sitting and others are sitting around a cluttered table. He begins to pile all the objects on my lap. Niether of us say a word. He finishes the pile all the way up to the salt shakers, gets up, and leaves.

"Can I hole punch your hand?"
"I like my hand, thank you."
and we both go on our ways

Recently he loves my hair. He grabs it, twists it, pulls it. Yesterday he bit it.

We haven't had one full conversation.

I like him.

Did I mention he's ugly? Squashed nose, rounded stomach, thick thighs, unstylish glasses and messy half-black-guy hair.
Yet he's all very confident with all that.

I like that, too.