Of Changes of Heart and Arrogant Boys

Well, quite contrary to my last post, I am not completely opposed to E. In fact, I am actually quite excited about going out with him. I don't know what happened, but all of a sudden I think I may like him. Or at least like going out with him. I'm confused about it, but I'd much rather like it than hate it. It makes my life a whole lot easier. On a completely different end of the stick, I have been feeling rather artsy-fartsy lately. It started when N introduced me to a new drawing style. I've always been a manga drawer, but now I've started exploring different styles. Thanks a ton, N! Other than that, nothing much has happened lately. But I have got this scene from my new romantic comedy to leave you with:

The lace-edged, flower-patterned hem of my skirt fanned out as I spun in dizzying circles, watching the blurry trees on either side of me, the masterfully designed library behind me, and the crowd of cars zooming past in all their rush-hour fueled glory. In this town, rush hour was just that: an hour for rushing, not one for sitting behind infinite lines of cars. We only had backed-up streets if there was a football game. So as the rushing rush hour traffic flew by me, sped up even more by the momentum of my spinning.
Eventually, I felt the little droplets of rainwater that had collected on the grass earlier that afternoon soak through the back of my dress as I fell to the ground. Smiling, I lay there for a moment, watching the cars go by, then stood up and was just grabbing my bag to go get dinner somewhere when I heard loud, far-apart footsteps approaching, as if the owner of those footsteps was taking long, pompous strides. Sure enough, when I looked up, it was the one person I knew who was most likely to take strides like that. Rolling my eyes, I hitched my bag farther up on my shoulder and tried to steal past him, unnoticed.
He, however, would not cooperate. Smirking, he grabbed my arm and said, "Not so fast, Miss Spinning Kitty."
I ignored his barb about my odd pastime and said, "What do you want, James? Get it over with."
"Woah, there," James said in that irritating voice of his, "Aren't you being a bit badass for a little girl in a flowered dress?" I looked down at my poufy, purple, flowered dress and Mary Janes, then glared back up at James.
"Look, James," I said with an irritated sigh, "I'm hungry and I really want to go get some dinner Will you please just say what you want to say so I can leave?"
"Fine, fine," James gave in, still smirking. "I just wanted to give you this library book." At this, he slung his backpack onto the damp grass and rifled through it, finally pulling out a library book. I couldn't tell how old it was, nor what it was, because it was covered with brown paper.
"Um, thanks?" I said, puzzled.
Smiling in a mysterious way, James picked up his backpack, walked away, and shouted an arrogant goodbye over his shoulder.

Excitedly,
Rosie L.

Ah, art!

Happy St. Patrick's Day, to those who celebrate it! I am not an unhappy person today, and it has nothing to do with the overtly "Irish" mood, either! I am happy because...the person i like seems to like me back! I know that is a very generic reason to be happy, but I have discovered that it can make an entire day bliss! Apart from that, a teacher deemed my paper on romantic transcendentalism "amazing," and my story is going well. Ah, art!