It's true though - I felt like an ice figurine in my suede boots, lace dress and lovely but bottonless coat. Gloves? Who needs those?

We were strolling along Fifth this morning, but not to shop - we were in school after all -  no, we were analysing shop windows (think window shopping, but being mean about the decorations and not the clothes). While freezing. Mostly freezing. How are people in series dressed in light coats which are open so one can see a transparent blouse or something equally inadequate, paired with ripped jeans?  "HOW are you not dying from the cold?"

Anyways. It's movie night again-seems we have a tendency to crave seeing the illusionus world of somebody else these days while stuffing our faces with pizza and caramel popcorn. No matter how unfunctional these characters dress.

Talking about people watching, I have taken a liking to discovering random things about strangers, for instance the way they tuck their thumb under their index finger like the blonde guy across from me, who might be sleeping - or he's just resting, like I am in between watching him. Gladly, he doesn't drool or snore; he's even closing his mouth which makes him a hundred times more attractive to me. Wait, did I say attractive? I probably didn't think so at first, but as I watch really intently, I kinda got to like him.

I'm terribly easy to impress. Though I'm frequently being told my standards are way too highly staked. Someone tell me how that makes sense.

Anyway, I'll go home later and defrost and then, I'll make sure I'm having fun. Pizza is a good start.

Love,

Rosy Smith

....There are a lot of them, actually. One very specific characteristic of this past two generations or so has been the breaking of taboos and the newfound tolerance towards speaking about subjects which had been banned by society for a long time. Which is great, really, since it helps certain groups of citiziens such as homosexuals, transgenders (very cu
rrently) and also women or pregnant teens to raise their voices and stride towards the equality they deserve. Consequently, it is definitely awesome that nowadays, a lot more people are able to say "I'm gay" or 'I'd rather have a women's body" or "I forgot the pill but I want to have this baby and go to college" without being chased by a mob of mads with pitchforks or something (at least, not as certainly as they would have been a hundred years ago).

However (and here comes my superficial point), I do think that there are subjects which do not neccessarily have to be publicly discussed by anyone at any point of their lives. By publicly, I mean with love interests. By anyone, I mean stupid boys, and by any point of their lives, I mean when talking to me.
I just don't get why I need to be all casual about things as, mhm, let's see, genitals. In which way, I ask you in all honest curiosity, does my refusing to name them, or talk about them at all, negatively affect our relationship? And in which way does it positively enrich our conversation? See, such things might be part of the reproductive system, but I'm fairly sure that we'll find our way around that without a detailed description via text. In fact, another thing I'm sure of, is that I'll never let you get this far if you don't stop harrassing me with your bad-mouthed expressions.
This is the point where I wish people would still have some of the spirit of bygone times. I betcha, in the fifties, no decent guy would have dared to speak like a guttersnipe in order to seduce the girl they liked.
And then there's stuff such as going to the bathroom. I don't care if you have to go to the bathroom. I don't care if you didn't take the Chinese we ordered well. If I'm completely honest, I don't even care that much if you get food poisoning. It'll do if you say you're sick. I'm sorry about that. But don't tell me about it, because it grosses me out, I'll be scarred by the images in my head for the rest of my life and therefore won't be able to continue our relationship. I'm not sorry about that.

Generally, I feel like we should remind ourselves that there are things in this world which have absolutely no effect on human progress or tolerance level but rather make this generation look as if we do not have any conversation standards at all.

I hope that like poufy skirts and Mary-Janes, appropriate language will make a trend comeback soon.
Until then, I'll be over here, passionately pleading for it.


Love,

Rosy Smith