Les Liasons Dangereuses.

Hectic few days, what with getting the internship fiasco sorted out and cramming several last-minute things in before the bi-annual zipping off. Witnessed an accident on the way to Dangerous Liaisons, and all I could think of as the stillborn traffic light ran its countless course was fuck, I'm going to be late. The guy, by the way, died. I was 10 minutes late.

I was sort of bewildered by it at first, but I can't imagine anything stupider than passing love by just because it doesn't come in the wrapper you expected.

J is convinced that personality (as opposed to brawn) isn't a factor I should be looking for at this point of time (age, she means?), although mostly I decoded that as my apparent social obligation to 'sample the goods', so to speak, before throwing in the towel. I suppose it's true that I shouldn't have to settle (or, in her words, force myself), but you and I know... it's really just a matter of time.

Matisse. What a lovely name. Mysterious, mind-boggling Matisse.

C'est tout. Incommunicado til my connection is back up in drunken-slut land... 5 days to Monday blues.

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"As for this present infatuation, it won't last. But for the present it is beyond my control." - Vicomte de Valmont, Dangerous Liaisons