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Zomg, major hotness.
written: 9:34 p.m. on Thursday, Feb. 19, 2009

I had a lot of fun in Human Rights class today when Nadia and I started writing each other notes on her Spinelli's napkin towards the end of the class, during the last presentation which ran overtime by like, 25 minutes, omg. It was such a secondary school thing to do and the only reason we communicated via a NAPKIN was because neither of us used a laptop in class, hence the lack of MSN or a more technologically-advanced (or technologically-advanced, period) mode of communication. Super fun. I wouldn't divulge what we wrote about; suffice it to say, I was struggling not to burst out laughing.

There is also a super hot guy in my Human Rights class which definitely makes going for class a lot more fun. He's smoking hot and when he talks, I totally melt inside. I know my taste in guys has taken a beating recently (Roger Federer not included, obviously - when I say 'taste' I refer to real life people) but trust me on this one: SMOKING. HOT. I don't mean to sound dramatic but this is the truth: the first time I saw him in class, I think I stopped breathing for like, three seconds. It also helped that he wore a Nike t-shirt because I've been very partial towards Nike lately, for obvious reasons. (If it's not obvious enough: NIKE SPONSORS ROGER FEDERER. And Nike generally makes classier tennis outfits than Adidas, Nadal's outfits notwithstanding, though I flove my red Adidas skort to death.)

If only the guys that I do know looked, or sounded, like him! And the best part? Hot Guy hangs out with another hot guy! Though Hot Guy, in my opinion, is hotter than Another Hot Guy. But yeah, I'm not making sense. Moving on now.

*

I spent my afternoon before class talking to Tris in the canteen when I was supposed to do my Human Rights readings, and it was great. Amongst all the very interesting and stimulating and Awesome! things we talked about, he asked me a really interesting question that still has me thinking until now: "What kind of guys do you like?"

I realise there's no discernible pattern in the guys that I've gone for so far. The only discernible pattern is perhaps this: The arbitrariness that unfortunately arose as a result of my impulsive, unthinking nature when it comes to the opposite sex. I'm one of those bloody stupid, and unforgivably so, types that still pursue, or want to pursue, something, even when I know it's not right, or that it won't last (because I know myself), or that the guy is at best a momentary flight of fancy and that I'd tire of him after a while. It's fun in the moment, but after that moment has passed, there would be nothing left.

I suppose there was one exception to this, but I tend not to place too much weight on it because of how it turned out. Whether this is right or not is unimportant, and personally I'm loath (loathe?) to even consider the possibility that the exception was actually the one true thing that was right when it happened. Because - yeah, no. Just - no.

I guess the constant that has given rise to the unconstant series of unfortunate events that so far characterise my love life is my amazing knack to completely ignore my head when I make decisions that involve the opposite sex. It's utterly stupid and I'm hoping I've learned something by now...but judging by the past week or so, I don't think that's true. Not really, anyway; at least, it hasn't been proven, beyond a reasonable doubt, beyond any doubt, to be true.

In any case, I find it quite sad how my hottest boyfriend was still my first boyfriend. That has to change because my first boyfriend was also shorter than me so, you know, ew and everything, and I want a hot guy, thanks. My threshold for hotness knows no nationality or race or cultural differences; I don't give a shit what racial group a guy's in as long as he's hot and speaks proper English.

Okay I've lost the plot, but it's terribly unimportant anyway. American Idol's starting soon so I shall conclude thus: TRIS IS A SNOBBISH PRICK! SNOBBISH PRICK!!

Hahahaha I love him anyway, or precisely because of that. Awwww!

*

ETA at 11.07 p.m.:

WHAT THE FUCK ANOOP DID NOT MAKE IT THROUGH TO THE NEXT ROUND.

I have a soft spot for Michael and all but FOR FUCK'S SAKE ANOOP PWNS MICHAEL TOTALLY. In fact, ANOOPS PWNS DANNY totally. I couldn't stand to watch Danny singing his horrible version of Hero so I stopped watching just as he was about to sing but I read on TWoP that HE HAD HIS FRIEND PIMP HIS DEAD WIFE AGAIN.

I HATE DANNY GOKEY SO MUCH IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY. That guy is SO incredibly tasteless and has absolutely NO CLASS. There is not a single thing about him that I can even tell myself to like - not even his voice, for that has been overshadowed by his shitty exploitation of the death of his wife.

I've never felt so much disgust and disdain and anger at a contestant before. I just cannot believe someone would stoop so low as to continually use a personal tragedy to garner votes. ABSOLUTELY SHAMELESS. I hate him. HATE.

Above all else, I swear, if Anoop isn't in the Top 12, if they bring him back for the wildcard round and don't put him in the Top 12, I'm not watching the rest of this shitty, SHITTY season. It'd free up a lot of my time to be sure; the stupid results show was AN HOUR today. What a waste of time.

before sunrise // before sunset

Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010