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January 25th, 2006


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03:51 pm - A girl at the library
I don't get a lunch today because of my class. That's the way it works: the class takes two hours out of each Tuesday and Thursday, so I don't take a lunch those days. With only an hour-long lunch, though, we find that I need to make up for the extra hours by sacrificing my Monday and Wednesday lunches.

If you've seen me ragged and a bit tired looking, or wondered why I'm not so available this quarter, that would be the reason.

I find myself rushed and in constant motion recently, as if I'm "taking polaroid pictures that are never in focus just to look at when they finally slow down." I admit that I've ignored more problems than I've solved, but to stop and focus on them means stagnation, and I cannot afford that right now.

In this, being single is more of a blessing than I ever thought. I've mentioned here and there in comments on this LJ that I'm incredibly happy, but that's mostly because I don't have the drain of needing to focus attention on a significant other. I'm so far from looking for a girlfriend that it boggles my mind.

That said, though, I was taking a ten-minute break from work to go pick up six of the books I need for my final project in my Mesoamerican Religions--Before the Encounter with the Europeans: Cosmovision and Ceremonial Centers class, and was walking over to the main library. I knew that there would be a load of books to bring back, so I wasn't carrying anything over, and aimed for the side door.

As I entered the outer doors, the inner doors opened across from me.

In the twenty-foot-or-so distance between the outer doors and the inner doors is a somewhat narrow hall that passes the stairs. There are rugs that shift around throughout the day, and are a bit wet on days like this, where people come in from the snow/rain/hail/whatever is falling from the sky and drag their sorry, dirty feet across the rugs. The floor is slightly ramped between the outside and inside doors, going up into the library. It takes about three seconds and ten steps, I imagine, to cross the distance and get fully inside the library.

But not today. Not for me. Not on your life.

Instead, this time the journey took what felt like an eternity, because as those doors opened across from me, a beautiful woman stepped into the entranceway with me, aiming to go out the door I had so recently come in.

I was enraptured. It was one of those moments when things slow down in the movies, a soft filter goes onto the lens, and music begins to play. My feet continued to move, but my entire body was involved in the watching of this woman. I'm not sure how to describe it outside that.

I can describe her in detail, because though I only saw her for a moment as we passed, I can recall every nuance of her physical form, every item of clothing and jewlery, and each lovely curve of her face.

The thing I noticed most was the way her hair framed her face. It was a lovely, soft, wavy-curly sort of hair, light blonde in colour. It was cut chin-length, bounced with her step, and had a scent of lilacs that I caught as she passed. Her eyes were a beautiful blue-green, a shade I had never seen before in anyone's eyes. There was a sparkling radiance in those eyes that I saw before her eyes ever met mine, and when they did, it was barely a flicker. But the flicker brought a smile to dance in that radiance, even though she quickly looked away.

Her lips were upturned in a smile, a moist, soft red colour that lightly matched the soft rouge on her cheeks, so subtle I couldn't tell if it was makeup or reality. Her mouth was small, but fit her face, matching up with the small nose that perched above. I caught a glimpse of a gold earring in her left ear as the wind between the doors caught her hair.

Her jacket was blue, and her pants were red, both deep, rich shades of their respective colours. The jacket had a high collar and zipped up the front, but she had left the collar open four inches from the top, and on the right side it fell open far enough for me to see the gentle curve of her neck. The tennis shoes she wore had seen better days, but were not ragged, just worn. They were once white and blue, but were now more of a gray and blue. The soles of the shoes were worn down slightly and yellow lines ran between certain treads.

In sum, the girl was a sudden vision of beauty to me, and I could not take my eyes off her.

As we passed in the hallway, my eyes drifting from eyes to lips, my foot caught the rug, and I stumbled (but did not fall) forward and to my right, against the wall.

As if noting an unimportant event in passing, I saw the smile tug at the left corner of her mouth as her head came around to glance at me once more. She continued to walk down the ramp to the door I had come in, and turned her head only as far as she needed in order to glance at me. I caught the sparkles in her eyes, dancing with her smile as her hair swayed back and forth, the curls stretching and contracting with her steps and the movement of her head.

And then I heard her giggle.

It was a sweet sound, innocent and pure, and one of the most beautiful things I've heard in my entire life. Perhaps it was only three syllables, but they are replaying in my mind as if they were the most important sounds I will ever hear.

Somehow, I think it really is the most important thing I've ever heard, or ever will hear.

She did not stop, though, and exited the door I had come in, which was still slowly swinging shut.

And I entered the library and borrowed my books, thinking about this strange woman I will never see again.

Poll #659880 Poll 15a: Reality Is a Consensus Opinion

Is this entry true?

Yes
5(22.7%)
No
1(4.5%)
It is partially true
9(40.9%)
It is partially false
2(9.1%)
I don't know
5(22.7%)

Current Mood: curiouscurious
Current Music: "Love in the Library", -JB

(20 comments Leave a comment)

Comments:


[User Picture]
From:tesinth
Date:January 26th, 2006 02:19 am (UTC)

Ah, the beauty of the passing woman...

(Link)
I've been there many times, the "what if..." possibilities are endless and a truely mind game.

I've got a habbit of not picking up signals from girls, and henceforth the girl in question gets pissed at me for not making a move (just added another one to the list).

There was a girl in one of my Astronomy classes with which I distictly remember sharing more than a couple stares. Then, when I made my move, she was so pissed off at me for waiting that she told me something to the effect of, "F*** Off, if I wasn't good enough for you six months ago, you're not good enough for me now" (we had three courses together). She was probably the only girl with a nose-ring that I thought was hot.

What stricks me as odd is that of all the girls who have shown interest in me over the years, the only one I had a relationship with was, well, let's just say sub-par. There was this one hottie (also in one of my Astronomy classes) who was totally hot (hence the 'hottie'). We went all quarter long, making casual comments and stares, and then she saw me walking down the street with the above-mentioned gal. The look on her face was priceless, "You're with her!!!" is how the above-mentioned girl summed it up. Pretty much right afterwards she publicly hooked up with one of the guys in class. Classic.
[User Picture]
From:wishesofastar
Date:January 26th, 2006 03:02 am (UTC)

Re: Ah, the beauty of the passing woman...

(Link)
Hey, I didn't know you had an LJ account! I love your photo.

::runs off to read your LJ::
[User Picture]
From:chronarchy
Date:January 26th, 2006 02:15 pm (UTC)

Re: Ah, the beauty of the passing woman...

(Link)
Boring LJ, wasn't it?
[User Picture]
From:wishesofastar
Date:January 26th, 2006 04:58 pm (UTC)

Re: Ah, the beauty of the passing woman...

(Link)
Mayhap. But not scarily obsessive over some chick, at least. ;)
[User Picture]
From:chronarchy
Date:January 26th, 2006 02:23 pm (UTC)

Re: Ah, the beauty of the passing woman...

(Link)
I've never picked up signals from girls. I'm not sure that they send them out in any way that anyone with outdoor plumbing would ever recognize. I don't think that I will ever see a signal from a woman that I will recognise, and no matter how often I tell women that they have to be really freakin' direct, they don't seem to get it.

Possibly because when I say "really freakin' direct", I mean "more direct than you have ever been before." I find it difficult to pick up on most social cues, and picking up on subtle flirting isn't something I know how to do. It's too common with me, and it's a source of fun and joy. I need something serious to break that.

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