Wuv, Twue Wuv

A few days ago I went with Phil to see The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. If anyone knows me they know that this was an act of true love. We walked home after the movie (walking is The Way) and my feet were hurting so horribly from the most horribly adorable shoes that Phil offered me his. While Phil HAS tried on a pair of my shoes, just to see how masochistic women really are (gender stereotype, I know, I have to balance out hyper-feminist-consciousness on campus with ignorant belligerence off), he was unwilling to put his feet in my death-traps-for-shoes to walk home. So, he walked home in his socked feet. This is our way of balancing out the universe; you see a movie you know you'll hate, I'll walk home in socks. It's like an hour of Kurosawa for an hour of Bertolucci.