*The Response to the first chapter has been SO great that I believe it's time to write another!! A reminder, I don't own Not Another Michael/Mia story! I gave it away; I couldn't bear to write in it anymore! Thanks
And Cyber-Guy, thanks for the review, but I think I'll delete it. And no, I'm not into that type of stuff. I HAVE a boyfriend, you know. *
-Next Day-
Four months ago I felt as if I had been alive for so long.
Like I've been here, doing the same thing, day after day, week after week, and year after year. Trying to get a boyfriend, trying to get him to kiss me...trying to turn him vegetarian...trying to find similar interests...
And then, when I got one, my first one, I didn't want him to kiss me, he was already vegetarian, and I got bored of all the Japanese Anime.
Especially all the ones with girls in them, because all the girls in Anime seemed to have misplaced their bras.
Then he dumped me, mind you, he thought I had it in for BORIS, (who is, by the way, totally cooler than I thought he was).
So then, I hooked up with Michael. In my eyes, the Polaroid of perfection.
So Grandmere thinks that he's not up to Royal Escort Material. I can improve his manners.
They're much better then Kenny's, by far.
With Michael, I don't feel embarrassed by anything he says. And I know that by the time he's up to those three special words, I'll be too.
I spent my entire ride to Grandmere's picturing our wedding.
We were in the middle of the rainforest, we were barefoot, and I was wearing a wonderful long off-white sleeveless dress. He wore a tux, without the bowtie or the vest. Our hair was messy, but beautiful at the same time.
And I held wildflowers...and our rings were made from dried flowers.
I bet Lars knew exactly what I was thinking about.
It's funny, but when someone spends his or her entire day with you, (everyday, for three or four months); you can just tell they know what you're thinking.
Lilly just stopped by.
She's starting a new petition. At Barnes and Noble, (the one we're NOT banned from).
On the weekend, we were there buying birthday presents for Tina, and the people at the checkout THREE TIMES over-charged her for it. She went back all three times, and on the third time her face was on fire, (not literally). She says that today's youth are being taken for granted. That today's youth aren't just the people you see on TV, getting busted for doing drugs and having sex in the back of cars (I know a small amount of people that own their own car in Manhattan, especially in Greenwich Village).
She says that makes up a small fraction of today's urban youth. That Generation X'ers have to come out of their Neil Diamond coated shell and realize some of the positive contributions these days that inter-city kids have done.
And not just help old ladies cross the street or raise funds for a run down library.
Good stuff, like try to educate themselves outside of school (that crap infested hellhole, she calls it).
So, I've been spending my time persuading Mr. G (FRANK! FRANK!! CALL HIM FRANK!!) to photocopy the petition, putting them in envelopes, and sending them to areas in desperate need of some shell-removal.
Yep.
My friend's a freak.
Things to do:
Finish stuffing envelopes.
Stop thinking about Michael.
And Cyber-Guy, thanks for the review, but I think I'll delete it. And no, I'm not into that type of stuff. I HAVE a boyfriend, you know. *
-Next Day-
Four months ago I felt as if I had been alive for so long.
Like I've been here, doing the same thing, day after day, week after week, and year after year. Trying to get a boyfriend, trying to get him to kiss me...trying to turn him vegetarian...trying to find similar interests...
And then, when I got one, my first one, I didn't want him to kiss me, he was already vegetarian, and I got bored of all the Japanese Anime.
Especially all the ones with girls in them, because all the girls in Anime seemed to have misplaced their bras.
Then he dumped me, mind you, he thought I had it in for BORIS, (who is, by the way, totally cooler than I thought he was).
So then, I hooked up with Michael. In my eyes, the Polaroid of perfection.
So Grandmere thinks that he's not up to Royal Escort Material. I can improve his manners.
They're much better then Kenny's, by far.
With Michael, I don't feel embarrassed by anything he says. And I know that by the time he's up to those three special words, I'll be too.
I spent my entire ride to Grandmere's picturing our wedding.
We were in the middle of the rainforest, we were barefoot, and I was wearing a wonderful long off-white sleeveless dress. He wore a tux, without the bowtie or the vest. Our hair was messy, but beautiful at the same time.
And I held wildflowers...and our rings were made from dried flowers.
I bet Lars knew exactly what I was thinking about.
It's funny, but when someone spends his or her entire day with you, (everyday, for three or four months); you can just tell they know what you're thinking.
Lilly just stopped by.
She's starting a new petition. At Barnes and Noble, (the one we're NOT banned from).
On the weekend, we were there buying birthday presents for Tina, and the people at the checkout THREE TIMES over-charged her for it. She went back all three times, and on the third time her face was on fire, (not literally). She says that today's youth are being taken for granted. That today's youth aren't just the people you see on TV, getting busted for doing drugs and having sex in the back of cars (I know a small amount of people that own their own car in Manhattan, especially in Greenwich Village).
She says that makes up a small fraction of today's urban youth. That Generation X'ers have to come out of their Neil Diamond coated shell and realize some of the positive contributions these days that inter-city kids have done.
And not just help old ladies cross the street or raise funds for a run down library.
Good stuff, like try to educate themselves outside of school (that crap infested hellhole, she calls it).
So, I've been spending my time persuading Mr. G (FRANK! FRANK!! CALL HIM FRANK!!) to photocopy the petition, putting them in envelopes, and sending them to areas in desperate need of some shell-removal.
Yep.
My friend's a freak.
Things to do:
Finish stuffing envelopes.
Stop thinking about Michael.