Monday, November 07, 2005
Diane and I have been going steady for a month now. However, it turns out that she has several faults I was not aware of, the chief one being that she is much too pretty to be seen with in public. Whenever we’re seen walking along hand in hand, onlookers typically sport a “how does a guy like that get a girl like her” look on their face. I expressed my concern about this fact to Diane, but she glibly brushed it off by saying she didn’t care much for penguins or people’s opinion of them. Which brings me to Diane’s second fault—she never seems to care about the things that are really important. Personally, I live and die by other people’s opinions, especially when they have to do with the various species of aquatic birds. Diane says she likes me mainly for my mind. But this comes as little consolation since I recently overheard her telling her best friend how silly she felt dating a guy who didn’t speak English. Basically, she assumes that all my utterances are either unintelligible gibberish or some private idiolect I’ve invented—but as of yet she hasn’t determined which. I tried to explain to her that I did speak the Queen’s language but she just nodded her head and smiled in the same manner one would when listening to a non-Native speaker one couldn’t understand. I contemplated breaking up with Diane, until I learned that she has ties to the Scottish Mafia and that she had a hit put out on the last sorry bloke that broke up with her. I can see the newspaper headlines now: "Death by haggis!"