Mac

And then there was Mac, a sweet skinny young man whose smile was so big his eyes closed when he was happy. Think Woody Alen's new best friend but with dark hair and a guitar. Mac loves to talk philosophy, meta-physical-imaginary versus reality-based relationships, write and play music and cherishes his friends more than anything in the world. A self-proclaimed talker (ok I told him he was a talker but he agreed with me.) whenever I got lost in one of his hour long monologues I would start to sing and we would harmonize for the rest of the walk. I brought up Blackbird (into the night of the pale black sky) and he started in with Breakfast at Tiffany's. I wasn't caught off gaurd becasue we first bonded over our shared love of musicals at Baggage Claim where I almost convinced him to join me on a Greece tune. The guy had a solo in his high school musical and eventually he came to my room one afternoon during nap time to belt out the tune. It was remarkable and as I hummed along passerbys poked their heads in the door to see what nut was singing about Tears on his Pillow and Pain in his Heart. *Sigh*. After the sing-a-long it was time to get dressed for dinner and I enlisted Mac to help me pick out a dress. He couldn't really understand what some of the more complicated pieces looked like, so he tried on my wrap dress. Yup, he's about 5'7" and that skinny. When my roommates walked in, they quickly walked out and returned with a handful of Isralie soldiers with cameras. Mac posed with his goofy grin.