Friends are kisses blown to us by angels.

I lost my first kiss today. Sigh. I don't feel any different though. Kissing is a lot wetter than I thought it would be. Well, I mean, you are sharing saliva. It's not as amazing as I'd hoped. It's nice, I guess, but I'd much prefer necking and nuzzling. And cuddling. Definitely cuddling. The caressing was lovely as well.


M. Paff is very good with his hands. It's not what you think. Our clothes stay on since we watch the movie in his living room with his mother upstairs. But, my God, is he good with his hands.


What I love the most is how subtle and smooth it went. I initiate it first by putting my head on his shoulder. Then he slowly gets his hand closer to my thigh and lightly traces circles over my tights. Tracing leads to more tracing and brushing and touching and all that.


I would love to go into details, but since I'm sharing this blog with two other people, it's nobody's business except for M. Paff's and my own. But, goodness, it's like a little dance; I like that.

Well, since Mlle. Johnston and M. Dow are my confidantes, they know how far I've gone today. Well, M. Dow knows a bit more since Mlle. Johnston is a real person and it's a bit awkward to tell her sometimes. Haha. But she comes over at midnight cause I call her at midnight and I'm like, "Hey, I have to tell you something," and she's like, "Want me to come over?" and I'm like, "Sure." And she comes over and we giggle about it in her car. Well, she's the only real person beside M. Paff and I who know of our special relationship. Everyone else thinks we're just friends. Well, we are just friends.

Now that I've kissed him and all that, I think I can totally handle this whole separation of love and intimacy. Like, the whole time, what we do feels good, yeah, but I totally don't feel anything romantic feelings for him whatsoever. Like, we're getting all the sexual tension out, you know? That's good. That's great, even! But, you know, it's the first time. We'll see how it goes.

But it's nice being with him like that, you know? So much better than David since David has clammy hands and sometimes I feel nasty when he puts them on me. But M. Paff's hands are very nice--I think I've said that enough.

Got my haircut. Kind of really like it. Got sidebangs and got the ends trimmed. YEAH.

Now that M. Smith is gone, Mlle. Smith feels horrible and she wants to talk to and hangout with me. Thing is, I don't want to hangout with her. I feel like it'd be such a drag. But then I feel like such a bad friend for ditching her NOW. I don't know. The right thing to do is to hangout with her, but the desirable thing to do is to move on.

I should start thinking about a new name for the next blog since I'll be done with this one the day I move out. I need something clever and witty. Whatever, I have 33 days to figure it out.

Someone told me that in about 50 years, no one will speak Latin, probably. Not even Latin people.

A pretty, clever young girl seduced by a charming, older man, pulled into his world of good music, dinner parties, and the such. I'm in love with An Education. Carey Mulligan is amazingly lovely as an English school girl, and she's even more gorgeous when she dresses up for the fancy events that David, the older gentleman, invites her to.

I would love to get my bangs cut like hers. I have wanted to do so for a while, but my mother managed to persuade me out of it. I'm definitely get my bangs cut like hers next time I go in for a haircut. Her bangs and Abbey Lee Kershaw's length--which is perfect because my hair would be a bit longer than that when I go in.

I'll probably cut it after prom so I can wear my hair up. I don't know if I've mentioned this, but I'm redesigning my prom dress since I have doubts about the first design. I have doubts about this one too, but this one seems very me. It is as me as any dress can ever be. My criteria are: simple neckline (so my dangling chandelier earrings won't have to compete for attention), a flowing bodice as opposed to a clingy and curve-hugging one (I always imagine that the suggestion of dainty curves is sexier that showing someone outright where they are) , backless (a classier way, I think, to show skin and be daring at the same time), and simple yet spectacular overall. I'm thinking a black, floor length number made with fabric light enough for the movement yet heavy enough to be classified as a formal dress and not a nightgown. That's the problem with a flowing bodice. It resembles a nightgown too much.

I think I can pull it off though. It'll be great. I'll put my hair in a ballerina bun to accentuate the unclothed neck and back. Exposed clavicles are sexy. My dangling chandelier earrings will be my only accessories besides the flower items. The whole outfit will be completed with black, smokey eyes and dark red lipstick. Isn't it a beautiful painting? Black hair, black eyes, black dress, and BAM, red lips. The colors just go so well together.

Oh, God, I don't think the flower items will fit in. I hope it'll be alright if I just ditch the whole flower thing.

In painting class, Mlle. Macias and Kweon and I were talking about prom dresses and prom dates. They know how I'm designing my own and remarked on how intimidated my date would be. I told them how I would rather go alone than go with someone uncreative. Then M. Ward, who has recently taken the empty seat next to me-- my bag holder--away by occupying it, said something about being creative with his asking. I told him that I highly doubted that his proposal would be as cool as he thought it would be. Then he told me that I would be amazed when he asked and would realize that he much more creative than I gave him credits for. Then, throughout that whole period, he kept giving me funny looks. I went to the bathroom right before and was sure that I didn't have anything embarrassing on my face.

Maybe I'm reading way too much into it, but it seems like he may ask me to prom. I mean, it'd be nice to have a nice-looking date, but then the whole limo arrangement wouldn't work, I would think. M. Ward will want to go with his friends and I will want to go with mine. God, when I was in 8th grade I wanted to be friends with them so bad, but I prefer my own friends now. It just wouldn't be a good arrangement. I hope he doesn't ask me. I just know it won't work. Again, this is just base on my assumptions and (possibly wrong) over-analysis.

I talked things over with Mlle. Smith and she's coming over on Friday to do our first photo shoot. She wants to have us dressed up and made up while I want us au naturel. Well, it is more sensible to take pictures of us as we are first then run to my house to get ourselves ready before the lights go. I don't know if I want a glamour shot of me all made up. I'm horribly self-conscious when someone points a camera at me. It is as if everything--all my body parts--is in the wrong places and I have no idea where everything correctly goes.