Sunday (meditation day)
There were many reasons why I liked Jimmy-- no, loved Jimmy. For one, he was irresistible with that poofy, long, curly black hair and smoldering black/brown eyes. His facial features were masked and hidden by his bangs a lot of the time, adding a certain sort of allure to him and making his far more attractive than he really was. From what I had seen, he was very fit, very muscular, and was never afraid to wear just a jacket with no shirt. His smile was beautiful, perfectly white and straight, and it always pushed his cheeks upwards and made his eyes sparkle. His smile was nearly intoxicating; one of those smiles that automatically made you feel at peace and want to smile as well. Seldom did he give a genuine toothy smile, but rather flashed people with a patronizing type of grin. It always filled me with pride when I could make him have a genuine smile and those straight teeth flashed down at me.
Jimmy had a fabulous sense of humor. No, it never beat Robert's talent for sarcasm, puns, and inappropriate one-liners, but he was funny enough to make the entire house slap their knees in a fit of laughter. His humor was subtle and misunderstood at times; for example, he had named his first Les Paul "Fretless Wonder" and that was hilarious! Well, at least to me because I understood the second meaning to it, of being free of worry. Not to mention when he smiled I got to see his wonderfully stunning teeth. When something was too funny for just laughter, rather than doing the typical flop-on-your-stomach-and-pound-the-floor-with-your-fist thing, he always gave a cute little kick of his legs like he was pedaling an invincible bicycle. It never failed to make me laugh at his laughter when he kicked his feet in giggles.
Every time I had ever seen him play electric guitar, which had been twice (surprisingly) because the rest of the time it was just acoustic, or else I was out of the house, Jimmy did this cute little dance. I had never seen him dance before, as I didn't know him all too well, but the little bounces and clicks he did with his head and feet while playing was almost too much for me to contain myself for. It was beyond adorable. He also made this extreme lip-purse that make him look like his lips were being pushed against a glass wall; every guitarist had their Guitar Face, and Jimmy's was the lip-purse with closed eyes. And need I bring up his insurmountable talent on guitar? He was far better than Beck, Clapton, Hendrix, and Richards without a doubt in my mind. Oh, he knew it, too; he knew that he was a virtuoso with a knack for perseverance, determination, ambition, and skill and his confidence in this area of his work was what really made him attractive He was sure of himself but not full of himself and he knew he was one of those few people that could accomplish anything they set their mind and heart to.
I was one of those people, too, and Jimmy was the thing I wanted to accomplish. There were so many similarities between us; we both loved the arts, drawing and painting in particular; we both could play guitar, although there was no hope that I would even parallel his accumulating skill; we both liked nature; we were both each other's ideal partner, me being a blonde artist and Jimmy being a black-haired, black-eyed sex-God musician; we both loved rock music and were living, breathing, walking Rock Dictionaries with everything from Abbey Road to Ziggy Stardust in our Rolodex; I was a photographer and he was gladly my muse; we both found the same things funny, specifically Robert's filth jokes; we both loved animals and wanted to get one for the manor, but Bianca was allergic; we both wanted Cheever sacked even though time and time again Bianca had "forgotten" to sack the poor man and he was carrying on cleaning our manor for a lot more money that Jimmy wanted to spend; we both knew the value of a dollar; we both felt unusually uncomfortable having each other in the house.
I knew Jimmy had to like me more than most other girls or else he wouldn't have let me live in his manor. The fact that he was always on my side in every argument involving Bianca said a lot and I was positive, positive, Jimmy would be mine some day. Bianca was just too controlling for him, an all around nag. I wouldn't be surprised if Jimmy left Bianca for me in the coming months; I would, if I were him. Now, don't get me wrong-- I loved Bianca, but I would never be the foolish bloke to date her! I'd get out of that relationship with one half of a gnawed arm and slave clothes on; that was just was Bianca was. A slavedriver. A nagging, boring, cubical-style slavedriver who was in no way alike me which caused me to even wonder why we were such great of friends, not that I regretted our friendship.
But who was I convincing? There was no hope for Jenni Page and we all knew it, especially Robert who had taken a liking to me quickly. Oh why? why couldn't Jimmy like me as much as Robert or Bonzo secretly did!? And God knows if John liked me as well because the poor mouse-man was too quiet to speak to me much. I needed to pull out my A-game and step it up a notch if I was ever going to end this jealousy that raged inside me like a wildfire whenever Jimmy and Bianca were romantic together. I had to end the jealousy before it ended my friendship with Bianca, but I was afraid that it would end any way this Jimmy ordeal ended up. My heart sank at the thought of losing either one of the two as close companions over the other. I sighed. I had no idea what to do and I needed to formulate a plan for the new week.
A thought hit me. Two days prior, Jimmy had told me Keith Moon would be coming over Monday as promised. That's where I would start.
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