The Clitoris: Natures' Rubik's Cube.

If you are a woman or reading this, stop it.

Feeling good. It's been a nice, nothing/pleasant sort of day, with lots of nice little sentimental presents. Sentimentality should be avoided, but it's tolerable and even appreciable in small doses. So i've had that.

The Chelty art works...Good and not so good. Most agreeable, in any case, if I can be the powerful male that I am claimed to be.

I'm still mystified on how I got full marks for my creative piece. I'm CRAP (or carp, if you prefer. Really quite a delicious fish, if you can ignore the fact that it's not native here and so therefore EVIL) at creative works, they don't turn out well. I employed way too many shitty cliches, the ending was shite, the plot shot, chronology just plain wrong...I just don't know. I'm hanging on to it, cause I did crappy in my analytic piece, which makes sense but still ensues confusion.

Phaedrus has lead me down the devils path. And I like him for it.

Bad habits die harder than good ones.

Is to wrong to like the things you're horrible at? All the things that I like are things that are either a) I'm bad at eg volleyball (hurrah) b) bad for me eg being Anglophilic (boo). Is there something wrong here or is it me?

That latter part was why yesterday I started watching my grandparents soaps (it's in Tamil. Yes, they are as awful ones here, possibly more so...EMOTE YOU STUPID FUCKS. Ahem.) Other languages help you learn a lot more about linguistics is what i've found. I am much deeper in the english language than I thought myself.

I've had a certain someone at school make his overtures to me, which I don't think even he knows what it's about. This has been going on for some time, which doesn't quite sound right when I say it here. Makes it sound a lot more sordid. But it is. Atleast my side of it. I like the attention, all human beings would, but there's more. I don't really repay as well as I should; to paraphrase Petra, he's very much a chimp beating his chest. But he's a very attractive chimp (if insecure). And he knows it. I was too besotted to notice he was plying me, but all that reading of Scott Card made me realise that I should have paid more attention. To explain this in terms of Lila, oozes biological quality, doesn't quite have the intellectual and social quality that I prefer (or rather doesn't have enough of it). But try explaining that to my cells. He admitted (okay not really admit, it came up in conversation) to me today that I make him feel weird, and behave differently when i'm around him...if that isn't a synonym that this boy is in love with me, I don't what is. That's what being in constant stereotype threat does bitch. I've kinda figured out why he respects and likes me; but that's a little ego-boosting and reduces him in my eyes as well. And it's cold comfort to your sexually starved friend here.

Helping Schofield be less annoying, atleast in the school work. I kinda sympathise with the kid a bit more (coincidence that I find him mildly attractive? goddamn it) than before, after seeing what his dad has become (I know that's not really an excuse, but this is Schofield. Impressionable, aight?). If you want to what I mean, type in Peter Schofield in Google and click on the first result. Or here.

I hugged Bob today. Defining moment of day, however short.

I'm off now to watch Arrested, so good night.

Note: I've done some slight editing to this post (though you'd never notice it, unless you're quick enough) to sauce it up a bit. Or to use the British nomenclature, "sex" it up. Also, as part of my smartassiness, I've cleverly hidden a reference to an ethical theory in my post. Can you tell what it is? If you can't, don't worry, it's no big loss.