Love is the rhythm and you are the music

So, today, I saw Monsieur Naylor, the cute druggie that I had a crush on last year. To be fair, I didn't know he was a druggie until after he got expelled for doing drugs. Mlle. Smith's crush, Monsieur Mockry, was also a druggie and got expelled last year too, so she told me that M. Naylor and M. Mockry were like, friends--I'm thinking more on the line of druggie buddies. Mlle. Hatfields and I sat next to each other last year in Art History and we had the biggest crush on him. My seat was the best because he was directly in my line of vision. He was very nice-looking, with great bone structures and a nice smile. His hair was nice too even though it was a bit long for a guy--it suited him.

Anyways, I saw him and said hi. He said hi and gave me a huge. I wish I was more graceful. I had my hands full with books and other stuff. Ugh. He laughed at how awkward I was being--embarrassing! I don't like him anymore. I guess I liked him last year because he was different from the boys that I know. I mean, I've been going to school with the same people since 7th grade and taking the same honor and AP classes, so they do not interest me in any ways. Those boys are clean cut, preppy, and full of themselves. And here comes M. Naylor, who takes regular classes, has a life outside of school (HAH!), and seems a little bit dangerous. He was a bit mysterious, so I was very interested.

My school has no cute guys. It is so depressing. There's a guy that's moved here last year--M. Smith (who is not related to my friend Mlle. Smith). Mlle. Velasco had a crush on him last year. I kind of had a little crush too. He is such a gentleman--plus, he had the cutest satchel that inspired me to buy a messenger bag. He's very cute, but I don't know him well enough to like him, and I think he may be interested in my friend Mlle. Smith (haha). She's getting fed up with him because he's not making a move, but I think he's being too much of a gentleman to make a move.

You know who's really cute? Mme. McElroy's youngest son. He's in his mid-twenties, I think, with the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going on. I think I'm going to see him tomorrow at Mme. McElroy's farewell party. I just wish she wasn't, you know, dying.

Enough about my love life--or lack of one--for now. I've been cruising on five hours of sleep lately. It's time for me to get more.