No, thanks. I'd rather not be involved in a Guatemalan love quadrangle
a.k.a. It's not as bad as Dubuque (Then again, not much is.)
So, tonight one of my ESL students asked if I was looking for a boyfriend. While "looking" is not exactly the verb I'd choose, I'm obviously open to meeting someone new.
"He's my brother-in-law's brother," she said. "He's tall, and he has green eyes."
"Okay," I said. "Sure, bring a photo next week."
"And he's married in Guatemala," she said. "But it's okay because his wife has another man there and he was sad for awhile but now he's okay."
Um. Okay. Maybe not.
Turns out simpatico guy (see July 18) is definitely moving here, or close to here. (An hour-and-a-half from here, to be precise.) The person whom we have in common keeps mentioning him to me: what he's reading, how kind and thoughtful he is, etc., etc.
"He's so my type," I keep thinking. Which is odd, because I don't have a "type." I've dated all sorts of people: scientists, artists, and martial artists. But if I had to describe the type of person who I enjoy being with and the type of person I find phyically attractive, I would describe simpatico guy.
He makes me nervous and flustered. For goodness' sake, I said "mosquito" instead of "Muskego." How pathetic can you get?
And I can't do anything about it.
P.S. Em sez check out www.dresdendolls.com. I concur.
a.k.a. It's not as bad as Dubuque (Then again, not much is.)
So, tonight one of my ESL students asked if I was looking for a boyfriend. While "looking" is not exactly the verb I'd choose, I'm obviously open to meeting someone new.
"He's my brother-in-law's brother," she said. "He's tall, and he has green eyes."
"Okay," I said. "Sure, bring a photo next week."
"And he's married in Guatemala," she said. "But it's okay because his wife has another man there and he was sad for awhile but now he's okay."
Um. Okay. Maybe not.
Turns out simpatico guy (see July 18) is definitely moving here, or close to here. (An hour-and-a-half from here, to be precise.) The person whom we have in common keeps mentioning him to me: what he's reading, how kind and thoughtful he is, etc., etc.
"He's so my type," I keep thinking. Which is odd, because I don't have a "type." I've dated all sorts of people: scientists, artists, and martial artists. But if I had to describe the type of person who I enjoy being with and the type of person I find phyically attractive, I would describe simpatico guy.
He makes me nervous and flustered. For goodness' sake, I said "mosquito" instead of "Muskego." How pathetic can you get?
And I can't do anything about it.
P.S. Em sez check out www.dresdendolls.com. I concur.
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