self indulgent memo.

weak-in-the-knees hot isn't everything in a boy, but it's something. that's a fact that i am going to have to reconcile with eventually.

i don't like that.

at the very least, i'm leaving town, and my knees can get weak and impair my ability to function on a normal level.

note to self: 'normal level' does not include inability to order a slice of pizza from tremendously attractive man behind the counter. nor does it include tripping over linoleum in the hardware department. and, despite previous attempts to justify, it does not include laughing loudly and nervously when he tells me he's a musician.