I got 18/20 on my West Side Story quiz. Woot! I finished the movie this evening, sitting in my room, in the dark, weeping uncontrollably for Maria, Tony, the Jets, and the Sharks. I've seen it live at the Stratford Festival, and I knew it was based on Romeo and Juliet, but I still lost it. Natalie Wood rocks my non existant socks.

I woke up this morning to nonstop torrential rain, which wasn't fun. I have a 2 minute walk to the college, but I still managed to get soaked. My hair was plastered to my head, and Valerie couldn't stop laughing and asking if I'd remembered to dry off after my shower.

But it wasn't so bad, I suppose. Well, besides the fact that my prof was being bitchy. I mean, it's not our fault if don't quite grasp how to use the Library of Congress classification system in one frucking [hahaha, typo! But it amuses me, therefore I leave it] class.

My unrequited love for LibraryBoy still...throbs? Surges? Are there any adjectives that describe it and don't sound romance novel-y? I'm just so inept with matters of the heart...I have no idea what to do about my burning passion for him. I think it's partially because we're in the same program, and it would be just weird because we're all sort of close and know what's going on with everyone.

And yet...

I'm having stupid girly fantasies, of things I've never really wanted in a relationship but society says I should. Opening doors, romantic dinners, hand holding, that pointless sense of status, because yes! I too have a boyfriend!

Bleeeech.

So I sit and ponder, day after day, wondering what I should do.

The only thing I know for certain is that I melt when he smiles. A puddle of warm Heather-goo, with a sappy-ass rainbow in it. Shyeah.