Wednesday, 25 October 2006

Buttered toast.

   So if you wake up with the sunrise
    And all your dreams are still as new
    And happiness is what you need so bad
    Girl, the answer lies with you

Jacob's unruly blonde locks, perpetually-bearded face, mirthful blue eyes and easy-going smile with his giant white chicklet teeth framed by the deepest dimples you'll ever witness belie his intelligence. His looks scream hippie college drop-out, his very-tall, slightly disheveled, worn-denim appearance leaving you to think that he's about to pick up a guitar and sing a Nick Drake song and maybe light up a bong before telling you that Yes, God loves you, brother. Or more likely Peace, man.

He likes it that way. He said it takes the pressure off, no one expects much of him and so people listen when he talks. He has a very deep and surprisingly loud voice, which probably helps. He's no wallflower, definitely no pushover and really, he can be quite a hardass when he wants to be.

He's very smart, very civic-minded, very politically active and up on current events.

I'm actually the cute one. It's a running joke.

Smart guy that he is, I caught him spiking my juice with my pills this morning. Like he's done every day because I wasn't taking them. Which is why I felt exactly the same. For the past few days I wasn't so sure if I should be thrilled that I didn't have effects from stopping them so abruptly or if I should be devastated because I still felt like I had the emotional capabilities of a dessert fork.

I think I've met my match. Though since I'm obviously not that bright anymore, I'm not sure what matches, other than our hair color and possibly our sex drive. Thank God.

Ha. I have no train of thought today. Come back tomorrow and I'll tell you an old story about drugs and karaoke and being carried out of a bar to thunderous applause.