“Let me guess. It was a rug in a past life.”
I wanted to hurt him, yes, but I didn’t. Mostly because I know that he’s that way to everyone and I’ve seen him reduced to cooing over my little origami animals.
Yes. Paper defeats rock. But lets face it; rock’s more fun, especially if you can get them right between the eyes, or maybe on the temple. Thunk!
So, long story short, I ignored him and went about my business.
Nobody else said anything until lunch, when I crashed into the chair opposite of Simon. He looks up at the sweater, then back down to his chips, back up, and then back down again. Finally after the third such glance I demanded to know what he was looking at with my most surly, “What.”
“Nothing.” He shrugged, “I just thought southern girls preferred draperies to, say, carpeting.” No, he did not manage to keep a straight face and I took my sandwich over to the old television in the corner, opting to listen to some random soap opera (the TV’s so old that you can’t really see any picture, just snow) rather than sit with him.
“I don’t know what you’ve got to be so vain about,” he complained when I refused to talk to him, getting half of my pb&j in his face for his effort. Not that he minded—he ate my lunch.
But by far, the greatest insult of all was from Queen Mai herself. I ran into her in the stairwell and she asked where I was going.
“4th floor.” I informed.
“Good. Me too.”
“Did you loose your ID card again?” She’s always leaving it somewhere, and no, I will not hesitate to tell the cops that when all hell suddenly breaks loose one day.
“No,” she grumbles, “My clip broke. It’s in my pocket somewhere.” There are entire libraries in the pocket of AnhMai’s lab coat. It’s frightening, as it makes her resemble a pack mule.
“Oh yeah?” It’s not that I didn’t believe her. Really. I just didn’t believe her. “And what if I changed my mind and said I was going up to six?”
“Then I’d have to find it. Now are you going to four or not?”
“I’m going. I’m going. Sheesh.” I was only about three steps further when she broke back into my thoughts.
“Really. I can forgive the sweater,” she complained, “But pink socks?”
She’s lucky we were heading upstairs, with me in front, because if our situation had been reversed, she might very well have found herself tumbling head first toward the ground floor.
I hate them, I hate them, I hate them, I hate them. :) Okay, so maybe not. But I should!
The socks are smoldering in the trashcan as we speak, but not the sweater. No, despite what those fashion guru wanna-be’s think, it really is cool.
After all, how can one possibly go wrong with big, fuzzy and purple?
On a slightly less morose note, I recently acquired the Weiss Kruez television series. I kind of went out on a limb (speaking fiscally) to get it because I don’t really know if I’ll like it and I know that I don’t like that. :) So I’ll have to find some time to sit down and watch it soon.
Here’s to hoping!
Mai quote of the day: "I really wish people didn't feel the need to make fun of other people's languages. That'd be nice. ... Well, except for Korean. That's a really ugly sounding language. It's okay to make fun of Korean."
Just when I think I may be making some headway, she pops up with this. *sighs* My apologies to all of Korean decent.
Daisuke and Ken!
It began with rivalry and fighting against each other but in wittle Daisuke's heart had no
place to hate Ken despite the fact he tortured and kill some Digimon here and there. Daisuke
tries to talk sense to his dear Ken but is always left in the cold, waiting for his
response. Daisuke was the only one who believed in him and yet Ken cannot believe him until
episodes later. Slapping Ken is all part of Daisuke's way of showing that he cares. When
Daisuke invited Ken over to his house to sleep over, friendship brewed over into something more!
What Digimon Yaoi Pairing Are You?
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