Not that I'd know how to crack the damn computer in the first place. I'm still a user. All the clocks in this school are wrong.
Conversations these mornings seem to consist of:
*: "Why are you grinning like that?"
Azz: "Grinning like what?"
*: "Like that. With the teeth."
Azz: "Because you're grinning. Why are you grinning?"
*: "Because you're grinning. Why are you grinning?"
Azz: "Because I was wondering what was going on in your mind."
*: "That's strange."
Azz: "And why is that strange?"
*: "Those were my exact same thoughts."
Azz: "So who started grinning first?"
*: "Which came first, the chicken or the egg?"
Azz: "The dinosaur."
*: "That's a new one."
Azz: "No, that's an old one."
*: "Well, I've never heard it before."
And so on. Just us smiling, and then wondering why the hell we're smiling. Sis tells me that the guy in question is perfectly aware what I think of him. That's not news to me; I told him a while ago. It would be downright disrespectful of me to try to keep that from him. If I could successfully conceal it from everybody, I might have a chance at not telling him, but as it stands I must tell him everything that I don't have a damn good reason for not telling him, a reason other than my personal discomfort.
Summary: We're friends. I care about him somewhat more than that. He knows it. I shouldn't expect any constructive feedback on that front any time before October 16, 2001. In the meantime, we're having a lot of fun giggling about movies, school, beer, how many beers it takes my roommate to get drunk, vampire: the masquerade, the process of becoming a were-cat, and other related issues that two young people twenty-one years of age would talk about together.
I'm happy. Wow.