men are butts

I just watched the cutest episode ever of the X-Files, aww. But now it's almost 2, so I really shouldn't watch another one. But it was so cute, man. The struggle is real.
Okay, so you know what other struggle I have though? This is super bad. So, about a week ago, I was just minding my own business, when little Eric asked if I wanted to go to dinner. This wasn't anything out of the ordinary, so I said sure, and asked who else was going. Oh dear, I shouldn't have done that. Little Eric, little hamster baby Eric, started to make a move on me. So, being the mature and elderly woman that I am, I didn't reply (I mean, I was going to see him in approximately fifteen minutes anyway; what's the fuss?). But this, too, was a mistake! When he and Michael and Cruz showed up, they talked to me, but little Eric, he did not. In fact, he kept conspicuously silent the entire evening. And then the next day, he bailed on dinner with Irene upon learning that I was going to be in attendance. Now if that's not something, I don't know what is. But that's not all, oh no! So, Michael, his roommate and dearly beloved friend, took this opportunity to make a move on me as well. Of course, I ain't here for that, but seriously man, why does this always have to happen to me? Do I release pheromones or something? Maybe there's such a thing as an Aphrodite Gene, and I have it. In the abstract, that's pretty cool, but pragmatically speaking, it's a little difficult to navigate, I mean it could lead to awkwardness and chaos and the launching of a thousand ships and all that. Arthur Symmons was wrong when he decried the anti-romanticism of the modern world– I'd say there are plenty of moths who are still willing to die at the flame of beauty. UGH. All I can say is, I'm glad Cruz has a girlfriend already, otherwise hallway encounters could potentially become even more damaging. Although, maybe things will take a turn for the better soon. The boys did stop by my room to ask if I wanted dinner (I'd already gone with Irene and Marissa though), and that was fairly civilized. But maybe they were looking for Sadie or something. Man, I dunno. I really hope dorm life isn't a microcosm of real life, because if it is, I'm in store for a calamitous future. Wait, hang on, I don't think I wrote about this before, but it's in the same category as these, and being the budding semanticist that I am, I must complete the set.
SO. There I was, sitting in my room, sick as all hell, and trying vainly to make sense of the ridiculous arguments espoused by the pseudo-Libertarians on tumblr, when Cesar decided to drop by. Now, I'm usually happy to see him, but I had tests soon, and I was so sick that I literally couldn't talk, so I was less than enthused about this development. And it turned out, I was right not to be. For dear Cesar tried to make a move on me, and the way he did it was so spectacularly ridiculous that I must share it for all future generations to enjoy. I will present it in the form of a teleplay.
Me: Oh yes, the economy, Lord of the Rings, linguistics, Shelley, Romanticism, lovely, very lovely! *insert at least three stupid puns*
Cesar: (doesn't say a word, just gazes at me wistfully)
Me: (feeling a little awkward at this juncture) So wanna hear a joke? Who's the cheesiest artist? Parmesan-ino! Haahahahaha
Cesar: (melancholically) Yes...
Me: Well actually, Parmigianino is pretty cheesy, I mean like he's the epitome of Baroque art, and we all know that was like the precursor of Romanticism and stuff, and the antecedent of late Hellenistic art, so like you can't get away from that, ya know eehehe
Cesar: (gets all up and touchy-feely on me)
Me: (feeling still more awkward, and wishing to divert his attention) But, enough about me, why don't you tell me about your life? How's bae?
Cesar: You know... Me and her... we're not in a good spot right now...
Me: Oh no, I'm sorry! Do you want advice? I can give you advice.
Cesar: No, no. But you see, I have no morals, and... I'm kind of okay with that.
Me:
Cesar:
Me:
Cesar: So, I want to see... if I'm a bad kisser.
Me: (sits for a second while my brain processes this new information) WAIT WHAT NO WHAT WHAT THE HECKY CESAR NO (scoots away with the ubiquitous *hand means stop* gesture)
Cesar: But
Me: NO
(curtain)
And that's pretty much how it played out. Why does this have to happen? I really think something must be going wrong here, like I have all this attention that I don't want, and there are people who might appreciate it more, so can't we just sort of redistribute things? But that's kind of communist, isn't it. Oh dear. So, in the name of my beliefs and intellectual integrity, I have to put up with the advances of man? I think I do. Well, it will be hard, but it is my cross to bear, and I can do no other. Let them come; I am not afraid.
Why me though, that's the question.
You know, I feel like I might wake Sadie up with my typing, so I should probably stop. I don't want her to throw things at me, or worse, wake me up tomorrow morning in retaliation. Also, I have my cog sci class at 11 tomorrow, and that's grievously early, so I should probably sleep. Goodnight!