I feel romantic.
I have an embarrassing crush on that MisShape boy, and a more embarrassing crush on an intern at the office where I'm temping. One of the precious few things that make corporate hell at least interesting is the intern pool. Specifically, the shoes thereof. I don't know what these girls are supposed to be doing, but what they are actually doing is blowing my fucking mind with these insane high-fashion get-ups and elaborate, impractical, and undoubtedly painful footwear. Imagine a swarm of perfectly coiffed NYU co-eds carrying empty manila folders, teetering around the office in $400 Marc Jacobs stilettos. I, for one, appreciate the effort, girls.
One intern, whom I suspect is the only boy, is pretty cute. At least, I think he's an intern, I sort of just noticed him around the time the rest of the interns showed up. I have an elaborate fantasy in which he is not 19, but 24 (he took a couple years off of school because he got a Fullbright to study experimental writing in Osaka). I manage to make up excuses to walk by his cubicle throughout the day. This morning when I passed him on my way to the mail room he stared at me while eating a banana. Adjusted his posture and rolled his eyes like he wasn't just checking me out.
My feelings are best summed up with the following video, for "You" by Lloyd. Jennifer and I stayed in on Saturday night and watched him perform this song live on 'Showtime at the Apollo'. I generally love top 40 pop songs anyway, but something about this song, including the Spandau Ballet bit, is just gorgeous. Clean, and sad, and pretty.