I am such a hopeless romantic it's not even funny anymore... I had this dream a few days ago that, after being jilted by a guy who then reuined my first painting, I met a guy, tall, with long blond hair, a solid build, and big strong hands. I won't go into the details of the dream, because I'm still picking it over in my head, but it sort of pisses me off that my psyche invents these perfect guys who simply don't exist in the real world. I mean, I know a guy who the dream guy vaguely reminds me of, but this boy, the one I actually know, is just another one of the multitudes who would love for me to change. I'm not aversed to change, really, I simply wonder, once I've changed once for someone, will they just find more things wrong with me?

Which leads me to a different dilema. People, even those who know me pretty well, don't know one side of my personality because it hasn't been seen in so long. I'm different when I have someone to share my affections with... I'm not as jaded or sarcastic, and generally just more bearable to be around than normal. It's almost like the more old-fashioned side of my personality asserts myself and I begin to adopt certain traits of certain literary heroines... (Granted, I could never be as complacent and reserved as say, Hero, for instance... I'm much more likely to be like Beatrice... somewhat shrewish at first, but once the right buttons have been pushed, well, you know...) And it's all McQ's fault that I'm thinking about this, because she's gotten me hooked on the Pride and Prejudice mini-series that A&E did a while ago. Blah. I'm sick of everything. Time to go brood.