4:30 yesterday afternoon. i was happily drinking a lemon slushie [as usual]and i heard you pull up into my driveway. i quickly write a note to my mom explaining that i was borrowing her car so as not to waste your gas. after much deliberation, we decided on something to listen to. steely dan, if you must know. [yes, i said steely dan] i'm driving, you're in the passenger seat. it's not -too- unusual since your car had recently died and i was the driver for a few days. you, as usual, were poking fun at my driving skills. [dear readers, i am -not- a bad driver.] it was all in fun, but i inform you that you cannot criticize me, subtle as you do it, because -i- have had no wrecks and i have had no speeding tickets. you stop.

i should've...knocked on wood or something. because the next thing i knew i had ran into the back of a little old man's truck. i barely heard you yelling 'ERIN! ERIN!..uh oh...' i said a choice word. and i asked what i was supposed to do. you see...i had never been in an accident. i, as i had told you minutes earlier, had a perfect record. but it was ruined. it hurt my feelings. it hurt my pride. but i didn't cry...not in front of you.

i make you drive. i'm silent...trying not to cry. it's a terrible thing when your feelings and your pride are hurt. i'm looking out the window and i feel your hand on my leg. and then you patted me on the knee...sort of like my mother would do. and it was so sweet...that you cared, that you felt bad. i loved you so much in that moment. the fact that you didn't take that obvious opportunity to rub in my face what had just happened.

i got my school books [over $200 for 5 books, you dumb bookstore nazis.] and we went to blockbuster. we rented high fidelity and while we stood there checking out, i realized i despised work. i didn't want for that to happen...but it's probably inevitable.

we didn't really watch high fidelity...i got the feeling you didn't like it nearly as much as i had, and i felt kinda dumb for going on and on about how good it was. i'm still gonna marry john cusack, however.

you cannot realize what you do for my self-esteem. if only i had had you around through most of my teenage years, i would have the highest self-esteem of anyone in the world.

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today, after two classes, i came over to your house. we watched the cooking network on tv and i noticed that, in your room, you have a lot of my belongings. i don't care, though...i like my stuff being in your possession. i hate having to go to school because that means leaving your house...and leaving your house means leaving you...and leaving you means...blah.

it's funny how you make me go to class. like -you- go to class...ha. you layed out just as much as i did last year. i guess we're trying to be good this year. i guess i need you to tell me to go or i'd stay with you and watch you drool over 'cooking live.'

by the way, you're not marrying the host of 'cooking live.'

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