Well, me and Nathan's first date has come and gone. I was with him from 1:00 to about 9:30. I should love the guy. He treats me like a princess. He compliments me constantly...calls me beautiful...wonderful. He holds doors. He pays for everything. He stares at me with that drunken look of love. He is respectful. He worships me. I should love the guy. But I don't know if I do. I don't know if I have romantic feelings for him. I know I've been so excited about him this whole week...but maybe I've been more excited about the idea of him rather than HIM. Because the second I saw him, there were no butterflies. There was almost disappointment...because I think I imagined this instant connection...where we're running toward each other in slow motion or something. The whole date I kept waiting for those feelings to arise. They weren't coming, so I found myself putting up my guard...because they were obviously there for him, and I was scared that if I returned them whatsoever, I'd be leading him on. We hung out at Newport on the Levee...went to dinner and a movie. He held my hand during the movie...after chickening out numerous times before. I don't know if I he didn't realize that I saw him staring at my hand and inching his over to it and then backing out. It was actually pretty cute because I like the shy thing. We got back to his place, and I pretty much just told him how I felt...that I thought he was a GREAT guy and treated me really awesome...and would like him as a friend. But I wasn't sure if I felt romantically about him...even though I like kissing him. And I was willing to possibly let things develop into romance but didn't want to lead him on in case I decided I didn't want it...and didn't want to hurt him. He told me he'd not expected anything out of me since the very start...that he just wanted to be with me...and that he could take a little hurt. He made me feel completely better. We ended up making out and doing a bunch of other things I somewhat regret (though they were pretty fun). When I was younger, I used to wonder how girls could just fool around with guys they didn't care about (or barely cared about). And now I'm one of those girls. I don't like that. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, my main priority in sexual activity is to feel wanted. I think that when someone wants me sexually, I actually feel pretty for once. That makes me sad...because it makes it sound as though I only fool around with people for selfish purposes. Bah, I shall not analyze this now. Anyway, despite that my heart is telling me that I don't really like him, realistically, I've only known him a week, so I really should give him a fair chance. I just fear I'll never find another guy like him...that treats me SO well. So...that's where I'm at now...I'll see what happens...and hopefully won't be a slut with him again.

Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman are receiving an award right now. Ewan is gorgeous to me. Nicole is absolutely ugly to me. The White Stripes performed a bit ago, and I've realized they were this group I knew about like a year and a half ago...because I noticed one of the girls in the band was chubby, and I was diggin' it. Chubby girls rule...I've decided to convince myself of that since I'm probably going to be one until the day I die. That is, until I become an anorexic, which I try to be for half of every day until I give in and eat 2,000 calories in one sitting.

I need to find us a house. Jessica has stopped the hunt for the time being. So maybe I'll take over it...because I need to get out of here.