Sweetie Pie's Bakery

Friends and Family

Rachel

While I appreciate that my companions are currently in the throes of passion, it is becoming increasingly hard to ignore. Thus I have come to the conclusion that I need to buy some new earphones, preferably of the noise-cancelling variety, or find a hobby that will keep me out of the apartment between the hours of 7am-9am and 7pm-1am. Or in last night's case; 3am.

Maybe I'll work out the logistics later.

For now I shall simply take my new book and my beautiful vegan cupcake and go to the Starbucks around the corner. Ah, cruel irony. But the cupcakes rule so never mind. Although I find it increasingly irritating that Brittany and Jess seem to be reaching their sexual peak, I have to say it has its advantages; I don't feel I have ever been so well-read as when I've been avoiding my apartment this past week.

For whatever my man is I am his forever more, Oh my man I love him so...

So here I am, walking the streets of the city I love in the freezing cold, but that's neither here nor there, and staring at the ass of this beautiful, beautiful man walking in front of me. Although, he is walking in front of me, so I haven't seen his face yet. I keep trying to walk slightly to the side, to maybe get a sneaky glimpse or a side-profile, but so far I'm just sort of swerving across the sidewalk, and I think I'm starting to look like a stalker. But with an ass like that, I'm sure his face is beautiful.

Anyway, of course I am happy for them. I'm pretty sure the L-word (excuse the pun) can't be far away, and Jess practically lives with us these days. Not that I mind, she has impeccable TV, film and music taste, and is also a fantastic cook, so everyone's a winner. Especially Brittany, by the sounds of it.

Oh God, he's turning. Turning, turning... Oh God. He is not cute. Abort mission.

But I'll admit it's hard not to feel a little glum, especially while you're crossing the street to avoid looking like the stalker of ugly people. New low. Is that shallow? It sounds like something Santana would say, only less angry, so probably.

Of course, I'm also happy for the budding romance between Santana and Quinn. They may have needed a rather large push in the right direction, but for God's sake, they would have still been stuttering and blushing and smiling awkwardly this time next year if we hadn't stepped in.

Also a plus point for Jess; she is incredibly talented in the art of subterfuge and subtlety. Which makes up for Brittany's total lack of tact.

With friends like these, who needs spy films?

And while I may be starting to feel a little like a fifth wheel, it would be incredibly heartless of me to deny them their happiness. However, it gets harder and harder to appreciate 'girl's night out' now that it's less girls-night and more lesbian-couples-night. And no matter what Santana may like to think, that is not in my future.

Come on, babe, why don't we paint the town? Ba daa dad um dat dat. And all that jazz...

Ooh, he's cute. Just sat there. Looking hot. And rugged. And looking at me. Okay look away. Maybe once I've ordered I should go sit with him. Like those strong, powerful women in rom-coms who are empowered and independent and do what they want and don't worry about embarrassing themselves. And he'll smile and say hi and I'll say hi and we'll get talking and fall in love and be together forever. Like a Nicholas Sparks novel. Only without the death, separation or war. Maybe not like a Nicholas Sparks novel. But it would be sweet, and he'd be charming and I'd be cool and collected.

Okay, maybe that fantasy would be easier to believe had I not just tripped over that stupid mat. Is he looking? Of course he's looking. And not in that nice who's-that-cute-girl kind of way. More in that what-the-fuck-is-she-doing kind of way. Well, that was short-lived. However, I am sure I shall learn from the experience and allow it to enable my growth into a more wisdomous, well-rounded person. Is wisdomous a word?