Unofficial

Mom told me not to write about “boys” on here, because . . well, you all read it. . and I know a lot of you and will actually see you again in person someday. But I decided it’s OK, because I’m not officially interested and . . I’m human and I like talking about different aspects of being human, even if they do involve someone of the opposite sex and me sounding totally juvenile and ridiculous. Besides, I wouldn’t yet consider this a very personal topic due to the aforementioned fact that I’m really not officially interested. Really.

I mentioned Rochester before and how I thought he was nice and intelligent and . . not cute, yet in some lights and some situations possessing elements of cuteness. . actually pretty much any time he talks. . I don’t know what it is. After Saturday night, I thought maybe it was the Malibu or the fact that I didn’t have anyone more interesting to talk to that night. But I’m pretty sure it was neither of those things.

(On a side note: Yes, I had an adult beverage, although I previously mentioned that I planned on not drinking. And I didn’t until that very moment when pineapple and coconut sounded so delicious to me, as did the idea of someone else paying for it. By the way, C & J, if you’re reading this, I’m blaming it on you because I’m pretty sure the love for this particular drink began at your house and somehow found its way into my life as well. I’m just thankful it’s low in alcohol content.)

Anyway, on Saturday night, Rochester sent a few “signals”, if you will, and for some odd reason, I didn’t mind. He was very gentlemanly, fun, etc. After that night, I wondered what would happen. Were the signals a one-night-only deal or what? But at dinner Tuesday night and basically every time I’ve seen him, the little “signals” seem to keep on comin’. They’re small I suppose, but if you’re a girl, you just know. I also heard through the family grapevine that he talked to my cousin (who he works with in D.C.) and went on and on about how great I’m doing out here. Of course, then there was today when I thought he was quite friendly with Delaware and I started to overanalyze, which I’m very talented at I might add. He invited me to pizza tonight with the work crew where we can each watch our game of choice, mine being Duke and his being Syracuse. Then he told me he’d pick me up (and it’s not far, folks) and Delaware was sitting right there and he didn’t offer to pick her up, too. So I think it’s safe to say that the signals are exclusively for me at this point. And that’s fun, and I’m glad . . . but I’m not officially interested.