"I can only be in love for the rest of my life for about two weeks."
As much as I wish I could claim that I was genius enough to come up with that, I actually stole it from a twitter post from lastnightsparty.com. It's rather appropriate at this moment because I had my first tiff with The Boy, The Boy being my boyfriend of two months, last night. Men, I swear; you can't live with 'em but you can't live without 'em. Anyways, I think we've officially passed that we've-just-met-and-I'm-totally-obsessed-with-you-and-everything-about-you-is-wonderful phase, which leaves us with... what now? Blech, whatever.
So with that, I will admit that I have started thinking about other men. Namely, Paul Newman. I truly started crying when he died. Such a loss to the acting world, not to mention how darn attractive I find him.
Anyways, I'm hanging out with The Boy tonight after work, even though I was tempted to tell him that I couldn't because I had to feed my cat. But then I realised that would be particularly cruel, so I abstained, even though my cousin kept telling me to do it. Actually, I think that might have been what tipped my off that it was a bad idea.
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