I fink metaphors are important, love. They help people see, or better yet, understand what you mean. Without them, you might end up repeating the same idea over and over, and the other person just won’t ever understand. It’s another way to attack the problem of poor communication.
Brilliant, yeah. I mean, I could tell by your accent and all, but I figured that sort of language may still have an effect on you. Where in the USA are you from then?
I work with that lot too, and maybe that’s why I’ve eased up on my use of unsavory language in polite society.
Yeah, Sarah is my daughter.
I believe November second at five p.m. are both the date and time. It’s at the grand lecture hall on the Kingston Hill campus.
I suppose you’re right, and that’s a lovely way to think of it. Bridging gaps of poor communication. Lord knows there are a lot of repetitive people in the world who could do with some fresh ways to reimagine the point they’d like to make.
I’m originally from a little suburb outside of Philadelphia, Pa. Moved here for school, though I suppose that’s a half assed reason seeing as I could have gone to school back home. Mostly I wanted to assert some distance from my mother.
Kingston Hill, five pm on November second, I will most certainly be there.
That means you should go to an optometrist as soon as possible! Do you need me to hold your hand whilst walking there? I don’t mind since you don’t look like you have your walking cane. So am I a walking self-sufficient prophesying man? That’s a mouthful albeit the impressiveness of it all. Hhhmm. Truth. Never got over mine. Probably never will. Wait.. you only watched Lion King this year?! What have you been doing all this while? Jesus, lady. You’re making Walt Disney roll in his grave. Call yourself an American. That is because society is screwed up to a point where humany wumany things look like they’re a blasphemy and shouldn’t be done at all.
Would you like me to pat your head or shall we just leave it at that awkward cliff hanger?
Well aren’t you just the epitome of a Good Samaritan. Do you help little old ladies cross the street too? Yes you are just that, I am going to make you a t-shirt with that so the world will know exactly the sort of prowess that it is dealing with. Yes, sadly I must admit that I had never watched the Lion King. You’re not the only one horrified to hear that news. My boyfriend at the time chastised me for a week straight. Humany wumany? Now that’s some interesting terminology right there.
Awkward cliff hanger…I mean it works in the movies…obviously that’s the best route to go.
Except for bondage jokes, you should’ve seen him blushing when I made one. Well, that was during our first meeting, though — he might flush in an entirely different way now if I make one again. Huh. Worth a try.
Pouting and plying him with booze, it’s a killer combo for sure.
Aw, but you’re my little monster. I think he has a house close to the beach? Obviously he’s like, my dream guy. It’s not Tahiti, but hell, I’m pretty sure Santa Monica has less mosquitos anyway.
Now, sugar plum, my sun and stars, light of my life, what have I told you about calling yourself weak? If he has the idea that you’re not strong and absolutely beautiful inside and out just because of the scars, he’s not worth it anyway. Besides, I’ve met some of those ‘models’ you talk about and trust me, you’re worth ten of them, easily.
Oh god…well you probably get a kick out of making him blush so that’s something I imagine happens frequently. Do it…joking like that is probably a fun form of foreplay now. Pouting and booze, the weapons wielded fearlessly by a lady.
Hey I think you’re as close to the Tahiti dream as you can get without actually being there. A house close to the beach…why do I feel like a lot of rated r beach forays are in your future? You really like him, don’t you? I haven’t seen you this excited about a guy in a long time. He definitely has my seal of approval.
Ugh…logically I know that you’re right, but it doesn’t stop my insides from being all squirmy. I don’t know…when I texted him about the museum he replied that he was actually going to invite me to go with him. But I can’t tell if it’s the sort of invitation you extend to a friend, or like the little sister figure you don’t mind hanging out with. I’m doing the thinking too much thing again, aren’t I?
I know, that’s why I love him so; ‘sides, same can be said about me, no? So if Landon can deal with me, he’ll be able to deal with Roman. Also, lovestruck dumpling? Sometimes I worry about rubbing off too hard on you, sweetheart, — this is one of those times. Of course I did! She’s growing up so fast, innit? I was thinking about flying up there, some time, surprise him, you know? Landon wants to show me California anyway, I could combine it…
Aw, darling, I get that, I really do. But if it’s any consolation, he really doesn’t seem like the type to hang out with someone just because he wants to humor them. The first time perhaps, but not four times in a row, you know? I mean, to me, the way you’re putting it, seems like he’s doing this to spend time with you.. not because he thinks he needs a hobby that badly. I mean, seriously, he went to a pottery class with you; I bet if he’d just been doing this to be polite, he would’ve found a way to let you down gently. Perhaps he’s also scared, you know?
Exactly, I mean he’s a man of the law, I’m sure he’s got resolve made of steel and can handle anything. Except when you pout at him…no one can resist your face when you pout. Worry all you want but it’s too late to do anything about it, you’ve created a monster Meg. A romantic trip to California…oooo that sounds like fun. I might go visit during the christmas holidays, goodness knows school and work will keep me on my toes, and I may have an internship on top of that.
I don’t know…I…asked him if he wanted to go to the history museum on Friday. Maybe I’ll get the guts to say something then. He may enjoy spending time with me but it may not be the same way I enjoy spending time with him. I don’t know…how to describe it…because I’m still getting to know him and stuff…but he just…we went sailing and he makes me think of the anchor of a boat. He’s strong and steady and something about him makes me feel safe in multiple ways. And then I’m this weak willed thing who looks like she got chewed up and spit out by a cheese grater…with Derrick it was…it was easier at first because it was just supposed to be sex…but this is…this is coming right out of the gate and I thought I was over the scars and feeling self conscious about them, but I guess I’m having a bit of a setback. You should see some of the girls at the yard that flirt with him…they look like models.
Well, I’m crazy about him as well, so if I have to kick Roman in the arse to get him to behave, I will. Not like I don’t have any embarassing stories on him too, after all. Though knowing him, he’d probably just preen under the attention; I’ll just need to get Lux… oh jesus, Lux.
Aha! So you do think about something more! Well, what’s stopping you, lovely? Is it still the idea of Derrick? Of course there’s nothing wrong with friendship, but I just don’t want you to fool yourself, you know? Out of fear or something.
Haha, I still can’t believe you got a picture; I’m proud of you, — that was a very Harrison thing to do.
Yes I noticed, you little lovestruck dumpling. That’s the bitch about Roman, it’s hard to really press his buttons, everything is attention in the end and he’s got a comeback for everything. It’s an art form, really. Oh you’ll get it from Lux too. Speaking of Lux…did you see the latest batch of photos of Anna? I swear to god that baby gets cuter every second.
I…it’s partially the idea of Derrick, I guess. It was mostly that at first. But now it’s…I don’t know…Tristan is hard to read and I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable by trying to advance to something he’s not interested in. He’s been so kind to me but I just…I can’t get even a whiff of an idea from him as to whether he hangs out with me because he likes to, or if he’s too polite to say no. I suppose I should just suck it up and ask him outright or do something that’ll give me a definitive inkling of what he thinks…but I just…okay I’m scared. I’ll admit it. Because I seem to have a consistant pattern of losing everyone I develop romantic inclinations towards and it’s just…I really like him.
That’d be a conversation I’d like to see, to be honest. But you know as soon as Roman gets wind of him knowing quite a few things about guns, he’s going to change the topic and see what else he can use to make Landon fluster.
Have you tried getting him drunk? I did that to Landon the second time we met and almost got him to go to town on me in the middle of the dancefloor, so hey, it’s worth a shot huh?
Mhmm, friends. You’re still going with that, I see. Aw, he probably grins at it every time he sees it.
Oh of course, and I’m sure he’ll find something eventually, because Roman is good at that. Landon will take it like a man though, because he’s crazy about you. That much is easy to see.
I don’t…that’s not really…that’s not necessary. We are just friends…I mean…maybe sometimes I think about something more than that…but there’s nothing wrong with friendship. He’s probably holding it for future blackmail purposes, to pay me back for the ear muffs and the sailer hat.
Cute as fuck, huh? Aw, thanks honeybun; I still have to tell Roman, — you know, for the first time I’m actually glad he’s across the ocean, because can you imagine him trying to show off his gun collection to Landon?
You do know that if you tell me not to do something, that usually motivates me to do it right? Have you ever tried asking him what kind of shite he likes? Or has it ever occured to you that he just likes spending time with you and he’d perhaps be perfectly content going on walks or something?
Though the image of Tristan at a pottery clas… highly amusing.
Oh god, Roman is gonna think you timed this shit on purpose. He’ll threaten to take a plane here for a visit, you know. I bet Landon could handle him though, he’d probably talk about the guns cool as a damn cucumber. I think you’re the only thing that makes him nervous. Of course I’ve asked him what sort of stuff he likes. That man makes noncommittal guttural responses an art form. That’s what started this whole thing, I asked him what sort of things he likes to do and he went blank like he’d never even considered liking things. I…I don’t know…when I make the outing have a point it feels like an adventure…a walk would feel like…a date or something…and that’s not what this is. We’re just like…friends…or friendly…I don’t know…
His pot was better than mine. Mine was a collapsed mess, but for some reason he took it with him when he left.