he had the flu. and i was out of town once he got better. and had to wait an eternity to climb naked into piping hot bathwater with him.

he did shave me however, which was scary but interesting. and i like how the landing strip feels. he likes how it looks and we both came three times.

much scandal in the family since last i visited. everyone is getting old but nobody really grows up do they? and there isn’t anything at all i can do about it. my cousin confided that he thinks my grandmother’s house is haunted. would not surprise me at all.

religious fanatics totally freak me out. and i am not twelve anymore dammit. tell me where stuff is already and respect the fact that i want to go have a cigarette outside so as not to muck up your pristine blessed house! oh and get a REAL computer with real internet access okay?

i missed here but it was a relief to not have to think of something to post every day or even every other day when inspiration seems to have deserted me. maybe i will dress as a man and come onto him in public and then write about what happens after.

i am scared to be all alone here. but i think that i probably am…

someone does, anyway.

an award. neat. and they’re calling us special too!

i call custody of the crystal phallus on weekends and holidays!

go vote!!!

America’s Poll on Homosexual Marriage

am on vacation. without laptop.

[no one] will keep you all company.

i can’t tell if he is being a butthead or if he is just overwhelmed with depression…

he wont admit the depression and i certainly dont press him about it.

i must not think of this while at work. too much crap to deal with as it is.

so my sex drive has gone down a bit. there were a few months there where i was not on BC and the sex was hot and he was hot and i was hot. new hotness all around baby.

i realized that when i masturbate now i only think about him. which is weird! usually i do not think about people i know. it is more likely a faceless crowd of, say… football players or something.

but now i can only think about him. but i find myself thinking about what i want him to do. and he rarely does what i want himt o do in real life. i want him to go down on my with out me having to “ask”. i want him to slap me around a little. i want him to make more noise. i want him to want me to bite him. i want him to be more aggrssive. please tell me how you will fuck me tonight. please dont make me do all the work. make me know you want to fuck me.

i think he is secretly a bottom! oh how funny that is! and also really irritating as I want to be the bottom. grrrr!

maybe if i was capable of being emotional at times other than when i am shitfaced.

nonono. it isn’t that i am not emotional. i just worry so much that i can’t express myself. my brain gets to full. i can see his is too. we look at each other with this desperate starved kind of look.

“please let this person magically understand me without me having to explain myself!”

the time never seems to be right. i want some passion. but am too lazy.

we’ve been around for a long time.

yep. the good old holiday season. guaranteed to make you fucking nuts. i try to strike this balance between caring and not caring. it’s hard. i have some holiday spirit. i got some presents for people. i helped decorate a tree… at the same time i feel listless about it. like if no one got me a present i wouldn’t care. i haven’t pestered my boyfriend about what he is getting me. guess what! ’cause i don’t really care!

although, now that i think about it, if he were to get me something cool that would be cool…

i NEED HELP. I’m clueless like a 16 year old boy. someone help me. or someone at least slap me upside the head. i clearly need it regardless.
i just dont know how to talk abo0ut a relationship… with someone i am having a relationship with.

HOW FUCKING SAD IS THAT?!?!?!?!

wow i make myself sad. but it drives me nuts (no, i am not a pirate) when i hear people say things like “and then we sat up all night talking about our relationship”
eh? what exactly do people talk about?

my lameness knows no bounds. i really should just go outside and eat worms right now.

also, i should stop this self deprecating crap and really think about this. what causes the mad insecurity that creates thoughts such as:

a. what if my boyfriend doesn’t like me anymore and is just waiting ‘til after the holidays to break up with me?

or

b. what if, when my boyfriend’s miserable depression lifts, he goes off and finds a new girlfriend who isn’t so stupid as to put up with him while he is all limp and depressed?

both thoughts suck. and both, i figure, are legacy from ex-boyfriend R. who dumped me on jan 5th. well, maybe b doesn’t fit … whatever.

i suppose i should be probing him to help him lift his depression. let him talk to me about whatever.. except that he has the exact same problem i do. he is a 16 year old boy. (EW!) i also sort of feel like i should be entertaining him. which sucks. i hate that feeling.

why does no one ever entertain me damnit!?

i want him to be happier. but i must remember that there is only so much i can do.

it took forever to get it done! and there was too much and too many and it was far too loud. i almost imploded.

the man at the coffee shop leered at me. seriously, he leered. not in a cute ‘how YOU doin’ flirty kind of way but more like a ‘ted bundy is my idol’ kind of way. if you know what i mean. i am certain there was duct tape in his car or something.

and when i stopped to buy cigarettes, the counter guy eyed me suspiciously and said ‘you’re eighteen right?’ i showed him my twentiesh-thirtiesh id and he looked surprised while he rang me up. the guy next to me said ‘what is she, nineteen?’ and the counter guy told him ‘about ten more than that’. and the guy next to me told me i was blessed with great skin. i said thanks and left, feeling like i’d been queer eyed or something.

heard a sicko lusty ad on the radio for some site called mygaydar.com and couldn’t figure out if it was real or a radio station parody. they actually said something about that if you didn’t use it then maybe you’re not gay. and the guy’s voice was very very creepy.

everything in the world creeped the hell out of me for some reason all day. if there was just one thing i could ask today i would beg the gods for people to just stop breathing on me.

NO!
NO!
NO!
NO!
NO!
NO!

no.

there is a phobia called that. it is tropophobia or metathesiophobia.

metathesiophobic – i should add that to my resume as one of my many skillls. i’m really really good at fearing change to the point of paralysis.

FUCK.

i am so not a snowbunny. snow fucking sucks, in fact. when you are a little kid you like it because you don’t actually have to fucking go anywhere in it and you are too preoccupied with catching snowflakes on your tongue to notice that everyone around you is driving like a motherfucking asslicking idiot.

i have been dreaming about famous people lately. and not in a good way. so far this week dream theater has starred the likes of fran drescher, benjamin bratt and richard gere. none of them were sexual or involved a gerbil. you perv.

i am bored and lonely and restless and dreading the holidays. around this time of year i swing hopelessly back and forth between mania and utter depression. i suddenly freaked out yesterday and started asking everyone i know if they also have people in their lives who seem completely UNreal and UNsincere and UNinterested in things that really(?) matter. someone blew the whistle on me and my psych evaluation is scheduled for after new year’s. however today i heard a cheesy christmas song on radio wasteland and was so moved by it to remember my carefree(?) childhood that i burst into tears, ruining my mascara, and right before work, too. even a super deluxe choco-mocha-lotta latte with shavings and sprinkles and hazelnut half-and-half didn’t make it better.

i want to quit my job. i mean, i should quit my job because it is probably logical. i heard about another place i can go doing the same work and making the same amount of money after six months that it took me three years to get here. however i would lose all my many years of seniority (more than three) and my extra week of vacation with it. also i would have to make friends or face being the office hermit again and i don’t know if i can handle that right now. and the first six months would be at a lesser pay rate, and some of the benefits you don’t get if you live in a different county which i do. is it worth it? i wonder.

i realized today that i will bitch and complain until the day i die about how much my life sucks but i will never do one thing to change it. because inherently i fear change. i am emotionally agorophobic or something. is there a word for that?

it’s the same old shit. there are a few people i can trust to have my back (like four of them) and then there is everyone else in the world. and those people who seem so glad to see me and hug me so tightly and make sure they kiss both of my cheeks and give an extended squeal of delight would sell me right down the river if it would get them a profit.

i have these schizoid encounters with these people where i think to myself, cool, this person is just like me, we have a lot in common and i can really see us being good friends, wouldn’t that be nice? then i realize it is all a big sham and i freak out, usually immediately after saying entirely too much or telling them something a little too personal.

i have considered the possibility that it is all in my head but i really do not think so. i also thought for a while that it was only with girls that this happened but then i looked more closely. it is there with almost as many of the men in my life too.

all i really want to know is why is everything in life like a fucking family reunion where you have to pretend to care so much about your eighth cousin by marriage four times removed but inside you want to run and scream and hide and give everyone you are supposedly related to the finger? why is everything all about appearances anyway? i have never been a person who gave a shit what people thought of me when it came right down to it – why does the guilt trip from my so-called family really matter that much? can i not simply tell them to fuck off? am i like fifteen or what?

pms doesn’t make any of this any better btw. just in case you were wondering.

european girl, mostly pretty, bad english. i have respect for her for having the balls to come here and attempt to make a presentation in a language not her own. i could definitely not do that in her language. but bad english is also one of my very big weak spots. and it takes all that i have to keep from giggling which is probably not extremely professional?

she was wearing these skinny pants that clung to her, which was cool because she had an alright body. though she was a blonde and i prefer brunettes. plus her hair was a little sloppy – she tried to do that casual messy twist with the clip and the hair flopping over the back (like on friends) only it wound up looking genuinely messy. too much gel i think, it looked sticky and yet dry.

but the pants. no VPL which was promising but somehow the seam in the ass ran a little crooked so it did not quite line up with her butt crack. this was really fucking distracting. i kept trying to straighten it out with my eyes because surely it was uncomfortable? even a little? yet i did not once catch her picking at her ass.

one time she did sneak up on me while i was asking a question about the software. it’s like i asked the question, turned to look at my screen so i could give her the exact error message, and when i turned back to look at her i was somehow eye-level with her stomach. which was very flat by the way. and i could smell her perfume. how did she get there so quietly though? and why? and have they no concept of personal space where she comes from??

she should not have been wearing that translucent white shirt with that lacy white bra. she had these lovely full breasts, and once she was nipply though her bra seemed to be lined. the shirt was not slutty or anything. just the material was a little thin. it totally kept me from concentrating on what i was doing during the very important meeting. which was debating on whether to buy christmas cards and making a grocery list.

she kept saying things like “how it looks like” and “in the next days” and “complainment”. and she also pronounced many acronyms as actual words whether they were or not.

i’m not saying that he is a shitty boyfriend… yet.

he’s just human and a bit depressed.
is it my job to accommodate that depression?

i am often depressed. will he accommodate me when that happens? do i need to let him know that i am accommodating him so that he will remember and do the same for me some day? or will i have to say “remember that time you were blabh blah blahb” and then he will accuse me of being one of those girls who remember every incident with micro-accuracy down to the merest second?

okay stop thinking now!!!!

i often, without a murmur, accept a shitty boyfriend.

now, i think this might be my own problem. i should have been trying to be one of those girlfriends that insists on being taken out, brought flowers and complemented. all the time.

if one does not insist on these things she slips betweent he cracks.