wha wha what?

I got home from work around 8:30 tonight, and got a message from Missy about needing help on our psych homework. I call her, let her know I just got in from work, and that I'll look at it soon. I got tied up in some other things first, and she called 10 minutes later to ask how it was going. I admitted that I hadn't yet gotten to it. She said she was on campus, so I'd better get my ass outside with my books.

I head outside, hop into her Grand Cherokee, and off we go. I'm assuming at this point that we're heading back to her nice-ass three bedroom apartment. Before we even get off campus, she produces a blunt from the console, lights it up, and passes it. We take the long way to her place, almost long enough to smoke the whole thing.

We get to her place, I settle in, and get next to nothing accomplished. Missy was busy searching for snacks ("salty or sweet?") and I was too busy thinking about things said two minutes prior, 'cause I'm like that. She comes back with Pop Tarts, Cheez-Its, and Oreos in hand. We desperately search for the handouts needed to do our homework, and slooooowly but surely got everything finished. Correctly. We hope.

Instead of bringing me back to campus, she grabs the remainder of the blunt and demands that I follow her to the front porch.

We sat on the love seat on her front porch, snuggled under a blanket, finished the blunt, and listened to music while watching the traffic roll by through the bushes and trees.

This kind of setting would ordinarily strike someone as romantic, I do believe. Regardless of the fact that it dealt with a "hot" blonde girl and a homo, intimacy definitely played a 'role.'

At one point, I went upstairs to use the bathroom. I found myself looking in the mirror, inspecting the way I looked. Was my shirt wrinkled? My forehead still oily from being at work? Pesky bangs out of control? Marybeth Whitehead on the side of my nose?

Fixed.

I was primping myself, for god's sake.

Perhaps it was the marihuana doing its thing. Perhaps it was my heart racing. Perhaps it was me being in the bathroom, about to walk back to the pretty girl with the good body.

We were practically pushed up against one another on the couch, working on the problems. There were plenty of other seats in the room.

What just happened?

I'm Listening To:
One Thing I Did Today: