she's been here a week. i can't believe she's been here a week, and this is the first time i'm writing about her. or this whole experience. and i'm probably only writing about it now because one of my friends mentioned it.
she's kind of great, actually. she's super happy to be here, is a gracious guest (keeps things tidy, washes dishes, eats whatever whenever), and keeps a lot to herself. i asked her the other day if i was paying enough attention to her, because i don't know what the hell i'm doing. i mean, i want to be here for her, be a friend and confidante, but i don't want to smother her, while at the same time giving her just enough rope to make it up the hill or hang herself.
tonight she went on a date (and he's sooooo adorable (my new rule is that i have to meet her LA friends before she can go (and i have his phone number too))). before she left, i asked her if she had a curfew at home.
"not really", she said.
"well you're going to have one here." cuz heeellllooo... i told her she needed to be home before i went to bed, and asked her what time she thought was a reasonable curfew.
"10-ish", she answered.
i beamed with pride.
~k
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