M. Dow and I haven't been truly talking lately. He's usually with his girlfriend, but when he does have time to talk, I have nothing to say. When I told him about it, he apologized for being distracted and all that. I think we're semi-good-ish again. Why am I talking like this? It makes me sound less intelligent and more like a teenage girl.
So I've been going on Chatroulette again. After many sleazes and penises and guys who want me to flash, I found this guy named Matt. He seemed nice enough. He said he didn't like his name, so he asked me to pick one for him. I chose Leslie. We joked that we should get married. I was like, "Okay. Show me the ring and consider it done." He was like, "Can we have seven babies?" Silly stuff like that.
He and I were having such a good conversation before I accidentally hit backspace and went to another page. But I'd asked for his Skype just moments before, so it was all good. We just moved to Skype and continued talking. As usual, once I got comfortable with him, I asked him if he was a virgin to add to my data. Yup. He WAS! Like, oh my gosh, someone who is a virgin by choice. And a male too! Attractive and NOT Mormon! Like, wow. I thought that species was extinct.
Once we finished talking, I Stumble Upon-ed this article saying that atheists and agnostics have better sex than religious people. Well, M. Dow is a living proof of that. But it also says that Protestants have a higher chance of not having Alzheimer's later on in life than everyone else. It says that those of minority religious groups often find their values and ideas contested by society which produces stress and shrinks their hippocamuses.
I feel so bad making fun of Mlle. Murphy with Mlle. Jang today. She was walking and we were walking behind her and we mimicked her waddle all the way from the office to Mme. Mills' room. Yeah, we're terrible people. Me, especially, since I'm the instigator.
There's something I want to write, but I have it all written out in one of my notebooks and when I have that notebook, I'll type it up and compare it to how I feel now.
Even Mlle. Smith has realized by now the limitations we have on our relationship. We only talk about other people when we're with each other. Our strings are no longer intertwined. They are coming undone day by day. She stays here while I move on with my life somewhere else. We love each other, but we no longer have much in common in the present nor the future. It's quite a sad thing to think about.
So I've been going on Chatroulette again. After many sleazes and penises and guys who want me to flash, I found this guy named Matt. He seemed nice enough. He said he didn't like his name, so he asked me to pick one for him. I chose Leslie. We joked that we should get married. I was like, "Okay. Show me the ring and consider it done." He was like, "Can we have seven babies?" Silly stuff like that.
He and I were having such a good conversation before I accidentally hit backspace and went to another page. But I'd asked for his Skype just moments before, so it was all good. We just moved to Skype and continued talking. As usual, once I got comfortable with him, I asked him if he was a virgin to add to my data. Yup. He WAS! Like, oh my gosh, someone who is a virgin by choice. And a male too! Attractive and NOT Mormon! Like, wow. I thought that species was extinct.
Once we finished talking, I Stumble Upon-ed this article saying that atheists and agnostics have better sex than religious people. Well, M. Dow is a living proof of that. But it also says that Protestants have a higher chance of not having Alzheimer's later on in life than everyone else. It says that those of minority religious groups often find their values and ideas contested by society which produces stress and shrinks their hippocamuses.
I feel so bad making fun of Mlle. Murphy with Mlle. Jang today. She was walking and we were walking behind her and we mimicked her waddle all the way from the office to Mme. Mills' room. Yeah, we're terrible people. Me, especially, since I'm the instigator.
There's something I want to write, but I have it all written out in one of my notebooks and when I have that notebook, I'll type it up and compare it to how I feel now.
Even Mlle. Smith has realized by now the limitations we have on our relationship. We only talk about other people when we're with each other. Our strings are no longer intertwined. They are coming undone day by day. She stays here while I move on with my life somewhere else. We love each other, but we no longer have much in common in the present nor the future. It's quite a sad thing to think about.
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