a thousand kisses deep.

Oh, hey tharrr super secret blog. Why do I always neglect you, and write terrible half-entries and delete them without posting?

This cute little boy that works at HMV came into my store today and was asking about Marvel Zombies 2. He always comes straight to me for the zombie deets, cause he knows that I'm familiar with the territory. I am always instantly attracted to zombie-philes, and I have no idea why. (Althought the guy from HMV is TOO YOUNG, and it's wrong to dick little babies and shit.)

I have many other varied interests that I'm sure that I share with a good bulk of the population, but finding out about other common interests just doesn't affect me in the same way. When Marvel Zombies 2 first arrived at the store, I happened to be working cash the first time a guy bought it. A totally normal and nondescript sort of dude, very blue-collar and non-interesting looking in every way. But when he slid his avid reader's card and copy of MV2 across the counter to me, I looked up at him and just about got lost in his dreamy zombie-infected eyes. I started gushing about how awesome the series is and made myself look like a blathering idiot, and I am absolutely embarrassed to admit this... but I memorized the name that came up when I swiped his card, and tried to facebook stalk him. I swear to god, I am really that sad. It's a problem. (I should mention that I did not locate him on facebook. I have decided that this is just as well. I may have done something crazy.)

I once considered going on a date with a 42 year old married man because he really really really liked zombie movies, and saw on my POF profiles that I also really really really like zombie movies. Fortunately I was talked out of it. This would have also probably been a terrible situation.

Someday I will meet a man who will understand me enough to get me this without having to ask me if I want it, or without me TELLING him about it. Someday. I'm not holding my breath, though.

I met a totally cute boy at a 90s party I threw last weekend. An acquaintance of mine brought him along, and all night long I was trying to figure out where the hell I knew him from. Turns out he's the little brother of this guy I used to be friends with, a million billion years ago. He's cute, and funny, and has a wicked job, and had gone on a date with a girl I know the night before. POO. Also, being that it was a 90s party I basically looked like Kurt Cobain. I probably actally looked more like a dude than Kurt Cobain ever did. And when I found out that this guy is a nurse, I dragged him into my bedroom and made him let me take his blood pressure and asked for tips. Also, I was wasted and couldn't hear shit through my stethoscope. Who does that? Me, that's who. Also, I'm pretty sure that he thinks I'm a freak now because after I finally scraped together enough ballz to add him to my msn, the only think I coudl think of to talk to him about was boots.

For real. Like, sorels. And uggs. And weatherproofing and garbage like that.

I'm probably the worst person in the whole world at talking to boys. I'm going to die alone.

Also, after he left, I wrote on his facebook wall, thanking him for helping me with the blood pressure stuff, and then the girl that I know that he went on a date with kind of wigged out a little bit. Sorry?

I have approximately somewhere in the realm of seventeen kajillion exams over the next two weeks. Then I am off for a month. I'm planning on spending most of my break sleeping, and not talking to boys, because all I ever do is make myself sound like an idiot.

I wish I could date Ice Cube, for real. Plus he's got all that Are We There Yet? money, so I could quit my job at the bookhole while I finish up my Nursing degree.

Fuck my life!