Pants too small to be allowable in several signatory countries of the UN. Red snakeskin-look PVC. They put the HOT! back in hotpants. They gave A a conniption fit. Well, not quite. Just that he's not sure he likes other guys looking at me as a sex object. Finding me attractive, that's fine. I was quite bemused by this, and I'm not quite sure how to respond. I have the pants. I will wear the pants. I don't want him to feel bad. But I love wearing them. They're unbelievably comfortable. And when aforementioned guys look at me as a 'sex object', I just find it funny. Funny how easy it is.

I'm such a wench.

Speaking of A, last weekend he got me a dozen long-stemmed roses. He brought them in a large box, wrapped with ribbon (pink, but I'll forgive him that this time). The most beautiful flowers I have ever seen. Deep red and smelling beautifully. They are starting to sag now (yes, just starting, such is the wonder of cut-flower food), and people keep telling me to dry them. Then, or so I'm told, I can keep them forever.

Well yes, but I'm not sure I want to keep them forever. It goes against my philosophy of romantically given flowers. This philosophy was something I only realised when challenged about it by J², who demanded to know why he should give flowers to K^r when they were only going to die. He'd much rather give her something that would last, some other gift that was useful. But that, you see, is the whole point. Flowers are useless. They die. They have no purpose but to be an expression of devotion, a quick message of love. That is what is so beautifully romantic about them. And hence, drying them would be diminishing their message, taking away the moment. Even keeping them for a week, still alive, seems to be making their allure wane.

Besides, I don't have anywhere to put a dozen dried roses. They'd be a bastard to pack up.