An Apple a Day

I like to consider myself a writer but occasionally, I find myself echoing my favorite lyricists because their words are emblazoned in my mind. And today, no one says it better than Fiona Apple:

"I don't understand about diamonds and why men buy them.

What's so impressive about a diamond except the mining?

But it's dangerous work trying to get to you, too.

And I think if I didn't have to

Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill myself doing it

Maybe I wouldn't think so much of you..."

We won't admit we like the games but we can admit we like the chase. There is something incredibly off putting about a guy who puts in too much effort in the first place. This weekend I ran into The Kiwi at a random bar on a random street where he randomly happened to pop in to use the bathroom and I randomly happened by a birthday party for a single random drink. The Kiwi asked me out last year (he bartended near my old retail job) and he took me out for Indian food -- a meal during which he confessed that he was married. But don't worry! Only for the green card.

"I hope that doesn't change things between us."

The Kiwi was more than a little excited to run into me last weekend and I've received at least eight texts in the last few days asking how I've been, what I'm doing, and if he can see me this week. It isn't even the fact that he's "married": he's just too into me. Meanwhile, I'm still smitten with The Boy whom I haven't heard from since a sweet kiss goodbye last weekend and an, "I'll see you Thursday" to follow. Truth be told, I'm sure if I didn't have to kill, kill, kill, kill, kill myself doing it...