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Tuesday, 15 March 2011

Lecherous old man

So... I got out from my teaching practice, got to the game theory classroom, and shortly afterwards LesMisGuy came in and sat in front of me (yes, I did think to myself *elmo yay*). I told him I was meeting with Srq to study after the class and he said he'd join us. Two hours of being near him later, the class was over. Not without our professor asking me a question I answered stupidly (though I figure I could've answered better) and asking me to go to the board (to solve a problem he set up incorrectly).

I got back as the class was over and took advantage of the fact that a few guy (including LesMisGuy) were around our professor, asking if he'd reschedule our studying session tomorrow to some other time when we're not taking the measure theory exam. As we walked out, I figured I'd catch up with LesMisGuy (he seemed to stall a bit) and go meet Srq. The old man wouldn't have it. He wanted to talk to me, ask silly questions about whether or not I understand, if I need help, and how silly his example was today. I did my best to answer with only the shortest of answers, even though I could, indeed, understand quite a bit more than I do. I was just thinking of getting away from him. Which is why I was relieved when one of the guys walking behind us asked him a question.

I took my leave (quite rudely, perhaps, but by then I was escaping, not taking leaves) and tried to catch up with LesMisGuy. I thought of running up to him when I saw him not too far ahead, turning left (where he could've headed straight to the library) and thought twice about it. I figured I'd just give him a call. Turns out Srq didn't get here early to study, so I didn't meet with him. I figured it would've been polite to let LesMisGuy know (and find out if he'd like to study with me anyway), so I called him. I think he changed his phone number. Which might mean he didn't see the message I'm so ashamed of. Maybe. Either way, I had no way to reach him. Well, one way. I sent him an e-mail, figuring just might check his mail on his bb. I told him when I had class and to give me a call if he'd like to meet to study. I think it was ok. I mean, not so bad. No answer to this moment.

I'm sitting at a table not studying, sharing a table with a girl who smells a bit too much like onions (and doesn't exactly look too pretty either), wondering what to review before my functional analysis class begins in just under two hours. Wondering if I'll miserably fail tomorrow's exams like my students failed the quiz. Wondering if LesMisGuy will sit next to me when we get together for the teaching practice reunion. Wondering if I'll be able to pull off telling him I have a crush on him. Because I'm not exactly wondering if he's interested and ballsy himself, I'm assuming he's not (interested). Which begs the question of why I'd want to tell him and the answer to that is I've no idea. Maybe we'll walk out together once we're done with everything, maybe we'll get to talk. There's a tiny chance that if the conversation allows it I'll try a pause to tell him. Maybe. Right.

Back to studying. Or trying, at least. Hate that old man. Hate the look on his eyes, especially. Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to try and wear the purple shirt that makes my breasts look bigger, evolution be damned.

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