dancing robots

As comfortable as the floor is, I don't know why you wouldn't just sit on the bed. There was plenty of room, and you wouldn't have been the first person to claim that space of the bed as yours. Yours to watch television with a group a friends.

My house was crowded with people yesterday evening. As a small gathering with friends turned into a huge pasta party, I become frustrated, annoyed. I just wanted to watch the Office, and now, thinking back, I'm not even sure what happened during certain parts of the episode. I'll have to catch it online.

Is this even my house? People are calling it "my house" and "my bed" and "my room", but really it's not. This isn't my bed I'm sitting on, and this isn't my permanent room. I'm only a visitor here, paying rent for two months. But I'm glad that people feel comfortable here, that they feel comfortable around me. That they can just hop on the California King Size and nap on it while I'm watching television. Somewhere over the course of the year I made friends, and close friends at that.

And even now, I'm working on friendships and building relationships; deciphering what's just a friend and what could possibly be more.

Someone asked me once how I know if someone I like or someone that I randomly meet at a party or someone I've known for a long time...how do I know if they're it. They're the one I want to pursue, the person I'm interested in.

I don't know. I had a conclusive answer earlier today, but now I'm not sure. So far I've been wrong.