Attraction

Is a chameleon a coward because it can change its color? No. It’s evolved and awesome. I like to think of myself in a similar fashion. There is nothing wrong with having a strong sense of self-preservation.

You’ll have to read the book, and don’t interrupt me. It’s distracting enough looking at you. You’ve already derailed my brain train with your face several times.

Parker, what are you doing?” “Making a funny face in an effort to make you stop staring at me like I murdered your beloved goldfish.

He was so handsome I felt like filing a civil lawsuit against his parents, claiming punitive damages, pain and suffering to my psyche.

Martin wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were warm and interested. “Do you always talk like that?” “Like what? Like awesome?” “Yeah, like awesome.

Is a chameleon a coward because it can change its color? No. It’s evolved and awesome. I like to think of myself in a similar fashion.

I’d learned from my mother that when someone gives you a subjective compliment—meaning one that can’t be disproven and is based on opinion—but that you find to be completely false, rather than argue, it’s much better to just say thank you, or I appreciate that and strive to be that compliment. Fools fight compliments, she’d said, and sometimes other people see you better than you can see yourself.

I will die happy here, today, in this spot,” she sighed. “In your puddle of lust.” “Leave my puddle of lust alone. Get your own puddle.

Where are we going?” … “Just this place I know with a waterfall and a cave. It’s part of the estate, so no one uses it.” “How nice,” I said … “We have a garage at my house. It holds a car and some of my dad’s tools.” Martin glanced at me, equal parts amused and confused. “Oh?” “Yes. And a hammock in the back yard.” “Is that so…” “Yeah.” “So no waterfalls?” “No. But this one time, when it rained a lot, the gutter broke. That was similar to a waterfall.

You’re disgusting and that’s completely misogynistic. What if the hook-up girl is using you just as much as you’re using her? What if she’s just having fun? This is the problem with society. When a guy sleeps around, he’s sewing oats. When a girl does it, she’s a hook-up girl.

All girls should be treated with respect regardless of whether or not they’re virgins. Being a virgin doesn’t make me any more or less worthwhile than a non-virgin.

Little did he know, I possessed no feminine wiles. Only the willies and the hibby jibbies.

Me want Martin flavored cookie! Me want cookie now!!

Even though you don’t feel calm doesn’t mean you can’t be calm.

Because you scratched my itch and then you kissed me—both of which freaked me out because neither of which are in the course syllabus for laboratory experiments this semester. And, furthermore—

Let me explain what happened. I’ll try to keep it as emotion free as possible for the sake of all the people who can’t deal with the ups and the downs, and the drama and the angst. This is because I’m one of those people. I can’t deal with the drama. Admittedly, this is likely because I was raised in a drama-free household. I once tried being dramatic when I was fourteen. My mother told me to add it to the calendar.

She told me I should be proud of my healthy shape and healthy body and love it and treasure it because it was mine. No one, she said, could tell me what to think of my body. If I let another person’s opinion matter I was giving him or her control over me, and I had complete control over my own self-image.

She was a superhero. She was my hero. Therefore, moments when she allowed herself to display vulnerability were distressing. It was like watching Superman struggle through a bout of kryptonite exposure.

I never cross-pollinate fantasy and reality.

You should have me there as your representative to make sure he doesn’t try to zap you with his sexy ray.” “Zap me with his sexy ray?” “You know what I’m talking about. I barely saw him and I’m feeling the effects. He’s like an…electromagnetic pulse of sexy or something. So does his friend, Eric. They shouldn’t be allowed in public.” “That’s not how electromagnets work.” “Whatever. You get my point.

If I let another person’s opinion matter then I was giving him control over me; I alone had complete control over my self-image.

and request modifications to the heat level of my Bunsen burner. And by Bunsen burner I meant, literally, my Bunsen burner. Not the figurative Bunsen burner in my pants.

That’s right. A chauffeured car, for a twenty-year-old college student. If I hadn’t felt so pensive I might’ve looked for the Grey Poupon Dijon mustard.

You’ll make me cry.” His eyes widened a little, moved between mine. “I wouldn’t.” “You would. I’ve seen it, I see how you treat girls.” His hand at my waist tightened. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You’re not - I know you’re not like that. We wouldn’t be that.” “I don’t trust you.” He sighed, but not with impatience. “I know.” He nodded. “But you will.

He growled, “Say it. Spend the week with me.” I moaned, because…aroused.

I was just…low maintenance. That was okay with me. I didn’t need attention, didn’t want it. People, especially people my age and especially other girls, made very little sense to me. I didn’t see the value in spending hours in front of a mirror when I could be playing video games, or playing the guitar, or reading a book instead.

Is a chameleon a coward because it can change its color? No. It’s evolved and awesome.

I have two sisters, and I tell them this all the time. Be the marriage girl. Don’t be the hook-up girl. Don’t be her. She’s stupid and shallow. Yes, she gets lots of male attention, dressing in her sexy lumberjack or sexy nun costumes…for a time. But then she’s used up, hardened, disillusioned and desperate, because no one stays with the hook-up girl.

She lifted up a bag on her shoulder and informed me that not only had she brought me a swim suit, it was a string bikini. I thought I might die of happiness. That last part isn’t true. I was being sarcastic. Sorry.

I was starting to understand why the blood of a thousand virgins had been sacrificed at his altar of sexual prowess.