If a cow ever got the chance...

I spent an hour and a half last night reassuring someone that even though I want to make out with him (this is the PG-rated version of our conversation), I do not wish to be his girlfriend and in fact, have no romantic feelings for him at all. He confirmed that all of these sentiments were mutual and we parted friends. Then I went to sleep and had a whole series of dreams about being in high school with him and madly in love. At one point we were taking a math test composed of really hard essay questions (not word problems, more like "discuss the esoteric nature of parallelograms"), which neither of us could finish because we were too busy gazing into each other's eyes and taking off our shirts, etc. I am somewhat confused.

A few months ago, I realized I'd been mishearing the lyrics to Liz Phair's "Fuck and Run" ("I want a boyfriend / The kind of guy who makes love cause he's in it"). She says "I want all that stupid old shit / Letters and sodas". For ten years I thought it was "Fetters and solace". Way more pretentious, but oddly not inaccurate.

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