FieryGwenivere: ......that was some good typing
Elorza: wordle
FieryGwenivere: yeah, me and my boy were discussing that tonight
FieryGwenivere: what does "word" actually mean?
Elorza: wordle bonds
Elorza: it's an affirmative response
FieryGwenivere: ....so, like, "yes"?
Elorza: yea


That's for Rich Kid, obviously......well, no, that's not obvious at all, being that I always always always post meaningless snippets of conversation, for instance:


Nick: have fun?
FieryGwenivere: bien sur
Nick: excellente.
Nick: Mangio la vostra anima!!
FieryGwenivere: really?
Nick: Yes.
FieryGwenivere: nice
FieryGwenivere: what language was that?
Nick: Italian
Nick: Roughly translated: "I eat your soul!!"
FieryGwenivere: ......are you really nick, or are you the Elizabeth Dole incarnate???

---Reminder to self: post a inane piece of conversation here later.


So, yeah, Rich kid just left.....fucker brought me Caviar- I SO told him not to do that....gross gross gross. He seems to enjoy it, but right now, the only caviar that has ever been in our refridgerator is sitting there, and I'm sure it will stay that way for INDEFINITE amounts of time.

Good night. Time with him just seems to be at it's best lately. Midway through the evening, things were kinda shaky- I was battling with whether or not, or at least HOW to confess my sins to him, then I got online briefly and went to Emily's site and, being that he was behind me and reads faster than I do, it sorta confessed for me. He forgives me. He deserves a hell of a lot better than me. I wish I had any idea of how to not to do that bullshit....but Em's gone now, far fucking away, and I'm a lot better at not cheating on him with males than I am at not cheating on him with her.

I do love him. Implicitly. I just never was a very good person.

Red wine tonight- the darker kind- along with the Caviar. I'm --very slowly-- getting used to the taste of my dealcoholized delights. One day, perhaps, I will be able to understand why they're so immensely popular, if not because the suffering of tasting it reminds one to be aware of how rich-blooded they are, how affluent in their joie de vie and economics. It is impossible, for me at least, to drink these nectars without thinking, very seriously, of why I'm drinking it, and that thought process in itself evokes feelings of elitism. Perhaps it's because of my means of getting them- gifts from a man who loves me, who thinks I'm beautiful, who wants me to acquire a taste for caviar and wine.....
Yes, I think perhaps I will. The wine, anyway. (caviar....ilch)



Called Jeff three times today- thanks to the phone card Mr. Leighton, the coolest librarian alive, gave me, but he wasn't there, which makes me think that MAYBE he's home....which does one of two things for me: excites me that I may see him tomorrow, or pisses me off that he didn't tell me he was coming and I won't get to. Not that I really have any right to be pissed- he has a multitude of friends that must barrage at him whenever he comes home.....I'm working pretty damn hard on vocab tonight, can you tell?

Fuck it, I am way to tired to go into detail about all the many, many things I have accumulated since last time I bothered with an entry....I'm going to bed y'aalllllllllllllllllllllllllllll......enough l's for you? Heh, pluralized "l".

Deathy- Adj.- Of, or relating to, death. As in "Yeah, that poem was very deathy." (something Linda said to Chris, the crisis counselor. And he STILL thought I was the most intelligent 17-year-old he'd ever met....poor guy.)

My name's Linda and I'm SO GONE. On with it.