A rumbl in the tumblr

Since I'm not making the best use of sentences these days, perhaps micro-blogging/Tumblr can save a little of the day.

I haven't decided if I want it to feed into this blogspot, or if it should remain an entity of it's own...

Until I decide, you can check it out here:

That's my tumblr!

Take it outside

But I had a hall pass!

I don't know what's worse...that I let it go there, or that it's the stuff that's only found in teen themed websites..."?

GF gf gf...tisk tisk.

My brain is a terrible place

It's been hard to blog.

Not because there's aren't things out there that are worth writing/posting about...but because my brain has not been able to work things out correctly.

That, and well...I'm an asshole.

They always make me feel underdressed

sxsw

I'm SOooo watchin' this

X-philed

If watching too much, or rather being "addicted to Internet porn" merits a stay in rehab, then those facilities better get ready for a mega flood of people.

The rumors about David Duchovny's sex addiction being soley rooted to online (rooms) and not in other women's bedrooms however, eh... need to be taken with a shaker of salt.

It's what all the gossip sites and tv shows are saying...and well we know the only thing even less reliable than a gossip columnist is a gossip blog right?

Richard Friedman(who's known as a "celeb scribe"), says he's had a conversation with a pal of Duchovny's (well if a a friend of a friend says something, that's something yeah?)who insists the Californication star has battled a porn problem for years.

Mulder, really?

That the only things he's tapping are keypads and not his tennis instructor...

"I want to believe."
Damn.

I've always had a thing for Mr. Duchovny...if I knew he had this kind of weakness since way back then...I think I would have made a little trip...

But that's besides the point, the point is well, if the story turns out to be solid, it brings up a whole larger issue (I'm looking at some of you!).

At what point are we going to stop punishing ourselves for channeling our weirdest/wildest adulterous/curious fantasies through the relatively healthy filter of _________ (insert your kink--terrible pun) websites?

In the spirit of standing up against this puritanical outrage, I will, for the sake of all that is pervy and odd, provide the following clip(very NSFW)...A scene that says something about pools and not being saved by the bell.

I give you Showgirls, and the sex that would put a tsunami to shame:
Pool Love Scene From "Showgirls" - Funny blooper videos are here

To Infinity and BEYOND...anything you ever want to hear

Oh Disney...

Don we (k)now...

Last night’s episode of Mad Men really put me in all kinds of emotional directions. I don't typically go on and on about television shows, because, don't you just hate those people? But Mad men, MAD MEN...maybe it should be called Mad fans too...

Oh, Don Draper, and your wiley sexual ways. I want and hate you so so bad. Although lately I just want to...

Argh, damn you Don, and Duck, F** you...Chauncey so didn't deserve that!!!

Back to the episode--it was all about the two sides to women that men see and the two sides to Don that WE see.

All the while Sterling Cooper works on putting together a new ad campaign for Playtex,--an ad campaign entered around how every woman has a Jackie (Kennedy) side and a Marilyn (Monroe) side...really complicated Ad thinking of them days, huh? ;)

While they're pointing out the two kinds of ladies they have in the office, the boys peg Peggy for a Gertrude Stein. Don is in waaaaay too deep with Bobbie Barrett, but not immune to viewing women through these two lenses as well.

Don is all to happy to have Bobbie as his whore on the side, but his wife Betty buys a chic new bikini to wear at the pool, he's quick to demean her as “desperate”. (See those are the things that really bug me Don, you're so much better than that--but you're not!) Totally turning off both sides of the GF if you don't mind my saying...

Peggy, meanwhile, is trying to make headway as a woman in a man’s world. Sometimes I wonder if the show isn't going to somehow turn into her entire vehicle, but I digress...

When the men at Sterling Cooper continue to do business out on the town without her, Peggy realizes she needs to take Bobbie’s prior advice—“You can’t be a man. Be a woman. It’s a powerful business, when done right”—and Joan’s latest pearl of wisdom—“Stop dressing like a little girl”—and assert herself.

Apparently asserting yourself means going to a titty bar with the Playtex execs, in your tightest fitting cocktail dress and draping yourself over said chief executive like a cheap throw. Sigh. Peggy, behind painted eyes, falls under Pete’s judgmental eye ('Case you don't know: Pete, is also a cheater, and had just cheated on his wife AGAIN, with a model). It’s unclear whether this route will have much long-term success for Peggy, but we'll see...and I think I want to buy that dress now...

As for Don? Bobbie has always drawn out the uglier side of him, but it seems Don finally is seeing his own reflection (mirrors were a big theme in this episode) and not liking it very much.

When Bobbie dares to tell Don that his reputation as a himbo is well-known, he leaves her tied to a bedpost.

I’m not sure if this is the last we’ll see of Bobbie, and I certainly don’t think it’s the last we’ll see if Don’s not-so-endearing side, but I hope for little Sally’s sake—who starred at her father adoringly at the beginning of the episode—that he cultivates the side that she sees with a little more dedication.

[Note: Chauncey is Duck’s dog. When the dog made Duck think twice about falling off the wagon—he’s an alcoholic or whatever they called people who drank too much in those days—Duck lets him go. WTF.]

He reads it for the articles

What do you mena it's not going to be at the theatres?

Mena Suvari Sex Scene from Stuck - video powered by Metacafe

Yeah, it's going straight to DVD...Gee is that really all that surprising?

If you failed to get the gist of the clip, or Google anything about it, it's a hit and run that's a hit and miss. It's a film called "Stuck" but it doesn't stick around and well...yeah we could go on and on like this. The three minutes up there, that's probably all anyone is going to watch (which is almost as bad as getting hit by a car).

These for walls

Image of Milan Kundera by Adolph Hoffmeister (1968)

There's a book by Milan Kundera about a character who feels that her identity is defined by the things that she surrounded herself with -- things such as:
her cat, certain photographs, books, clothes, records that she painstakingly accrued -- that all of thee things were deliberate clues about her inner life and self.

The character's sister on the other hand believed that the external was irrelevant and her essence was completely divorced from her physical belongings or surroundings.

I read this book approximately, um...let's just say several years ago -- around the time I had just graduated from high school...grudgingly moving onto college and so on. Wide eyed and full of whatever you're full of at that moment I moved into my first apartment or "flat" for you English folk.

Perhaps the checks still had mom and dad's signatures in them, but it was nonetheless my own personal and private space.

But I digress...
I found myself now with the lone and self supplying responsibilty of decorating and adorning this new place exactly how I wanted, without fear of reprimand from parents or school officials, certainly any professional help.

The book still fresh in my head, I couldn't help but think of Kundera's "first sister." Belongings seemed so important, almost defining and shaping of her way of figuring out who she was and where she fit in the world.

Thinking it was only a book, and knowing the kind of creep I am, I felt a bit superior to this fictional character and the notion that material objects could define me. If years of good school, strong role models, and cable television couldn't get a word in edgewise, there was no way a poster or armoir were going to spell me out.

My identity is so not idefined by an accumulation of THINGS, (uh junk really if you consider where most of these things have been found).

I fully appropriated the second sister's philosophy: I looked down my nose at friends or rather posers who seemed so concerned with buying just the right albums, the right clothes, the right pictures or posters to plaster their places with.

I actually kind of felt a little sorry for them too because it all seemed like a weak, simplistic, fumbling attempt to create a ready-made personality. "I'm the kind of girl who listens to Sixties mod, reads Martin Amis, brushes my teeth with Tom's of Maine." It was lazy conformity.

BLEH.

For the first two years that I lived there, I made it a point to keep my walls bare and make sure books and cd's were not prominently displayed. I hated the idea that someone could just walk into my room and feel they got a sense of who I was merely by glancing at the trash I kept around.

It sounds pretentious and dumb...AND IT WAS!

After a while, the design aesthetic of my living space was not so much rooted in philosophical conviction as in laziness. I never bothered to frame or hang the lovely Frank Lloyd Wright wrapping paper my mother got me as a gift. I had no pictures of family or friends, no artwork, no band posters, nothing. My walls were completely blank, and they were ugly.

The walls in my place these days? Heh.

Well, at least I keep a kind of lazy blog right?

I'm sorry miss, but that ball was OUTSIDE the line.

Oral Intercourse

image found via buzzfeed

As in speaking and using words WORDS, gutterbrain!

Yeah here's a chart of all the little nothings you may or may not say in the middle of well, you know.

Have a look, have a response, do it all here, and then do it elsewhere if you like.

It's like basic economics

Oh The New Yorker, you are so smart.



Is this your way of telling/showing me, or rather your readers all about the proportion of sexual wants to sexual needs?

Yeah, you can't always get what you want - or not all that you want...but that's no reason to set your sights so low as to try only to get what you need, right?

Funny, it mostly makes me think of Basic Economics:

Want vs. Need

"A need is something you have to have, something you can't do without. A good example is food. If you don't eat, you won't survive for long. Many people have gone days without eating, but they eventually eat a lot of food. You might not need a whole lot of food, but you do need to eat.

A want is something you would like to have. It is not absolutely necessary, but it would be a good thing to have. A good example is music. Now, some people might argue that music is a need because they think they can't do without it. But you don't need music to survive. You do however need to eat.

Some categories have both needs and wants. For instance, food could be a need or a want, depending on the type of food.

You need to eat protein, vitamins, and minerals. How you get them is up to you (and your family). You can eat meat, nuts, or soy products to get protein. You can get fruits and vegetables to get vitamins and minerals. You can eat yogurt or cheese to get other vitamins and minerals. You can eat bread to get still more vitamins and minerals. These basic kinds of foods are needs.

Ice cream is a want. You don't really need to eat ice cream to survive. You can eat it to get some vitamins and minerals, but other foods like cheese and yogurt give you more of those same vitamins and minerals without giving you the fat that ice cream does. Still, ice cream tastes good to many people. They like to eat it. They want it, but they don't need it. They like it, but they don't have to have it to survive." --Economics 101

Well I really need to want something now...Ice cream and ITunes comes to mind. G'night.

Photos anyone?

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
Nothing but net:

I think I was half expecting to find crabs and shells on that net.

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +


Hey it's just a game, no sense in losing your head about it right?

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
What can I say?

We had a ball.
(This ball was found in a parking lot...all by it's lonesome)

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

If a blog could have a theme song...

This might very well be it (well kinda)


Everyone sing along:

That's right, pleased to meet you
I still won't tell you my name.
Don't you believe in mystery,
Don't you want to play my game?

I'm looking for a man to love me,
Like I've never been loved before.
I'm looking for a man who'll do it anywhere,
Even on the limousine floor.

Chorus:
'Cause tonight, living in a fantasy,
My own little nasty world.
Tonight, don't you want to come with me,
Do you think I'm a nasty girl?
(repeat)

Actually Prince might find this, tear it down and sue... :(

Here's to music genius and short lived blog theme songs.

Cheers!

Eating Pumpkin

Cheating.

Is it learned behavior?
We don't know.

Is it instinct or environment?
We don't know.

Is it stupid?
Oh completely.

Do we do it anyway?
EVERY chance we get...until we get caught (I never got caught, had suspicion sure, but eh).

*(VO=voice-over

The term voice-over refers to a production technique where a non-diagetic voice is broadcast live or pre-recorded in radio, television, film, theater and/or presentation.^[1] The voice-over may be spoken by someone who also appears on-screen in other segments or it may be performed by a specialist voice actor. Voice-over is also commonly referred to as "off camera" commentary.

The term voice-over can also refer to the actual voice actor who performed the recording. The terms voice actor, narrator, voice artist, announcer are all similarly used.

For the purpose of this blog, this technique has been used badly. So much so, the GF decided to create an OV=over-voice. The voice this blog will use as the voice over's foil)

But those questions aside...am I one?

VO: Hmm...I suppose so, yes.
OV: I'm reformed (I think)...or recovering?

OV: Recovering cheater?
VO: Alcoholics are always alcoholics GF.
OV: Not that I'm addicted to penis (as fun an addiction that might sound like).

But I'd say I'm reformed and cool considering that in the last 4 years I have not cheated on my current BF (yeah we've been together five, shut up).

I'd say that's quite sobering and healthy --one day at a time journey....

Ex's, if you're out there (I'll deny it, plus how would you even know I was the one blogging?) reading this right now, yeah I probably and most definitely cheated on you at one point or other.

I never did it as a personal attack.
I don't think I ever actively pursued others or meant to do the cheating, but I also didn't fight hard enough not to, so yeah--I was a dick.

Sometimes I didn't even think it was cheating because I had a set of rules about it...

Something about not looking,or not being availble makes you the sudden fad of the day...I dunno.

Maybe there was a growing interest in dweeby girls...who knows.

The point is, I've cheated on every BF I've ever had...okay except one. But that tale is too heartbreaking/lame a tale to get into right now...

I also suddenly have a powerful hankering for pumpkin pie.

Later.

Has it really been that long?

Bloggy, there's no need to get down about my predicament. Life's long and end all is not sustained by my "getting any."

Remember, for a good 16 years I went with out.
Of course for those 16 years I was also quite content with cartoons, Nintendo, and going to the movies WITHOUT parental guidance.

Yeah those were some days. :)

Heheh, plus let's not forget that when I got it then, I didn't know what I was supposed to do with it. I think I was also more interested in getting a driver's license.

Uh, so strange how our standards change and stay the same as the years go by, huh?

I mean I still dont' know how to get it, but I still beam at how well I do at parallel parking. ;)

Don't you wanna know how we keep starting fires?

This came into question earlier...just trust me. :)

Did the earth move?

Hardly.



But yeah you know...
Bloggy, without having to get really graphic, I think we can safely say that a certain lil' engine got her way after all. In a sense...

Sure it took some major convincing on my part (and I am quite the orator), but at least I didn't even have to buy him dinner.

Off track is the same track

Worked another really really really long day. We're talking feet barking up a storm and back just totally aching.

Mindless little details, dull repetition and banter I just didn't want to listen to (and I didn't).

Most of the time, I kept thinking, "I'd really like to get laid."

At least I think I want that.

It's mindless, it's repetition, it's a banter...

Like that's what's was going to make my life simpler...as if getting that accomplished would make everything else during the day (or week or past month) all go away.

I guess it did help a little, because after a while, I started to think like The Little Engine.



I think i can get laid, I think I can I think I can.

I thought about calling my BF's mobile. I had an hour for lunch, I was also really close to home.

His phone was off.

I texted his sister (how fucked up is that?), to call him at home (I don't call home--the mother could answer), but she couldn't get a hold of him either.

I decided to email, to text...to think ESP or rather anything to keep the little engine in some kind of chuga chuga.

Still working, and not mentally reciting cheeky SMS to the BF, I hear my phone.

I've got a text.

It's dirty, it's cheeky, BUT
it's not from my BF.

Instead it's from a friend in the UK, who's been trying to get into my pants for years (to no avail, because--1) I'm always attached when he's offered and 2) He lives in the UK 3.) He's a bit of a player--actually he's pretty darn whorey--can't be safe or smart...)
(I wonder if my little euro friend, doesn't have some kind of hormonal ESP...or maybe he just knows when I'm down...at any rate, he tends to drop the occasional sweet if not inappropriate email and text every now and then.)

Still, I'm thinking, it's gotta count for something that someone's thought enough to send me some harassment, no?

Maybe I can use this little boost of self esteem to work some magic on the BF.

Cut to hours later, way way way later (after my BF's not gotten or returned any of my calls, after my BF decided to eat before seeing me, so I had to dine alone, and after well you get the picture), we're at my BF's sister's house.

She excuses herself to use the phone in her bedroom.

BF is puttering away on his cell phone, playing some game or checking his email (maybe even all the messages I sent him).

I crawl up right next to him on his sister's sofa, tap his shoulder and calmly say, "I want booty."
He shushes me, "In my sister's house? Are you crazy?"
Me, "Noo, we can go home, we can go right now. We'll say we need to do an errand...errand being me"
BF, "I don't think so."
Me, "You never give me any."
BF, "Cause it'll spoil you."

Spoil?

His sister comes back, "Spoil, is something spoiling?'
BF, "No, nothing."
Me, "Nothing exactly."

WTF?

waxing and waning

Life's a Beach

Or is it that other B thing?

While you were out

Believe it or not bloggy, but life had a way of going on even when I wasn't posting it on here with you....
Crazy, right?

Well, what did you miss?

Yeah, I was out of town. Yeah, I went alone, and yeah it's not what I'm going to blog about tonight.

Something else?

Remember "Whoreface?"
Yeah?
Okay, remember how she was engaged and was having an engagement party?
Why am I using the word "was"?

Yep. It's over.

Luckily I didn't buy a gift. Luckier still, I didn't put my foot in my mouth at work...

I've been doing the texting thing with HF now too. Granted it's always work related, but I may have to call her something else. Probably should change her contact name on my phone, huh? :-P

Yeah, I'm doing my best to not be so grumpy about people anymore.
Baby steps GF, baby steps.

Actually, her face doesn't so much look like a whore as much as she looks like Hillary Banks from that old Will Smith show--"Fresh Prince of Bel Air."

On odder but kinda nice(?) news. My BF's sister called me "family."
TWICE.

She even changed clothes in front of me, which I found kind of uh...embarrassing. I'm such a prude.

We're going to go shopping later, and I think I might have volunteered to help her with some moving.

Eeeep, moving...that's what people ask their "Friends" to help them with, no?

Could this be the start of a...(gulp)--> friendship?

To be continued.

H8

Bloggie, so sorry.

I've been out of town.

I've been thinking about you, and were there a way to send you a postcard from my trip (oh right there is)...

Yeah, I'll blog first thing after I unpack, yeah?

There's so much going on though, doubt you missed me much.

See you soon.

Oh and what's going on in Georgia? This 8 business...eassh.

GF in a coma

Drats!

Uggh.

Yeah, it's exactly one of THOSE days.
The kind of day I can't get through fast enough.
The kind of day I hope beyond hope to soon forget.

I'm going to do that by ...well not going to blogging about it.

Guilty Pleasures: Oh Sheets!

Sheets. I buy them a bunch.
I typically buy the same colour scheme and thread count.

I don't always make my bed though, and for that reason I will never be Martha Stewart nor will my bedroom ever grace the pages of some nice digest.

My other guilty pleasure:

Filthy songs.
I keep a playlist of such things. I always worry someone will stumble onto it (My Mother) and weep.

Oh well, here's one such song on list.
DOWNLOAD

F words

Two things have been on my mind a lot lately:

+Getting new furniture.
+Getting a friend.

Wanting for these things, I think I blame on magazines, and the internet.

Or maybe comfort. Who finds comfort on the internet?

My place looks OK. It functions in the way that it's supposed to. Nothing is broken down or ruined.
I have acquaintances, none of them are broken down or ruined either.

I'm tired of the look and feel of my place.
Lifeless, impersonal.

I want to fall onto something and just have it feel really good.

A nice bed and a nice friend...it's not like I'm asking for the world right?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I don't remember what the favor was exactly, but I know I said, "If you do it, I'll be your best friend."
He said, "You already are my best friend."

Still wanting whatever it was I wanted, I answered, with, "I'll be your SUPER DUPER BEST friend!"

Holding a list in one hand and my hand in the other,he pulled me closer as he turned a corner aisle, not even looking at me and sighed, "you are my SUPER DUPER BEST Friend."

We continued to do some shopping, but I still didn't get what I wanted.

I don't doubt my BF's sincerity or rather appreciation of me. I just don't think I really am my BF's best friend.

Yeah, it's nice that he says so, but I dunno, I don't really buy it.

I'm pretty sure his best of best friend is ________ or _________. They grew up together, they make each other soup when their sick (well not exactly, but they do worry and care about each other) and have that whole guy bond thing that I will never get (and why should I?)you know.

There's differences between the friendships you have with people when it's totally and completely platonic. Like family.

They're close to you, because you never have to worry about turning them on if that makes sense...

Granted...if they aren't related, there's probably still a little oddness...

Anyway.

I used to have a best friend.

For whatever reason, I've been really missing that.

Right now, and for the last few years, My BF is my best friend and my everything.

Nothing I have is not without his finger or handprint.
Nothing I do is not without his thoughts or consideration.


If you look at the call list on my phone, easily he's all of them.

And while all of this is very simple and nice, I can't help but also feel lonesome . Lonesome for something that is altogether just mine.

Like a fave chair, or even a fave person.

I wonder if perhaps I'm too old to make a best friend now. That maybe I should just be really happy and nuturing with the good friendship I have with my BF right now.

How many people can talk about ANYTHING and almost EVERYTHING with their partners?

I have one friend I suppose I still consider close (at least he lives in the same city). I find myself having mental conversations with him often.

(I mean he pops into my mind often. If i'm watching a film I think he'd enjoy, I think about the things I'd tell him about the film, or the things he'd tell me regarding the film. I think I still know what his interests are and how he is about things, so it's just easy to play these little dream conversations in my head without actually acting on them...does that make sense?)

It's a habit that's hard to break because I didn't need mental conversations for ages.
It used to be that we were available to each other at all times.

It used to be that'd I call him up, or him me, and we'd talk for hours and hours. We talked about everything. He was my best friend. Now that we both have signifs, though (not to mention a strange falling out of sorts--okay we don't have sex anymore), it makes things odd...kinda.

My BF knows that I talk with that "ex". I tell him that I do, when I do and what we talk about.

My BF even knows the history I have with that "ex" . He knows all kinds of little stories and quirks about that "ex." He knows that for a long time I thought I was even going to marry that "ex" (well I played with the idea).

He knows the same kind of things I know about that fellow. Both of them are on the other's email and buddy lists. Both of them even share similar friends and so on.

What he doesn't know?
Eh, that sometimes...sometimes I think about how that "ex" tasted.

I guess I'll just hit publish. There's no reason to write much more today...My "ex" is online. I wanna show him a lamp I like. I'm pretty sure he's going to ask which side of the bed I'll put it on. He'll probably remind me of the time he broke a lamp...

The kind of stuff they forget to put in catalogs...I really really need a platonic friend.
No assembly required.
Sigh.

20

Girl on Girl...

Hmm...shiny ballet slip on shoes?

Yeah, sorry, but I'm afraid this is probably the only "girl on girl action" you'll ever see posted on here. I know I know.

No worries bloggy, I did however find it in the kindness of my heart to make a little Muxtape.

It doesn't make up for my lack of "activity," or "adventure," but it is a personal look into my Ipod.

Since we can't share headphones THIS is as intimate as it's going to get.

Enjoy.

Have your say

You hear that? It's the sound of typing...no no, it's the sound of someone logging in.

Wait, could it? Is it?

No, it's not that super awesome person you were hoping would log in for a chat...sadly it's just me. Bah!

Headphones don't look quite as awesome as those picture above , but they get the job done all the same.

Anyhow, as the the post title says, this is the portion of the blog where you "Have your say"

Some people call it feedback time. Some people set up forums and the like. Some people might even think this is a sad reach for contact.

Yeah okay maybe.

But back to listening to what titles tell us.

What title doesn't say is: what you can and can't say...

And why should it?

You're free to say you like.

Heck, I'd like to hear it too.

So if you're up for a few quick IM exchanges--get at me.

If of course you're busy, you want to collect your thoughts, you have other places to be, you can also always leave a comment, an email and perhaps we can all set up a kind of conference. We'll play it by ear.


Okay enough with my begging.

Have a good 'un.

Log vs Log

Okay I've thought it over. I've decided that occasionally, maybe even once a week, I'll put up a more "log like" peak at what I've been up to. I might even put up stuff I keep in my regular diary...Oh fascinating stuff right?

To kick things off I decided to post up something from the olden days. I thought about putting a journal entry from more recent times, but then I thought how much more interesting contrast is.

What I've learned? While the days and places haven't changed all that much, the stuff between them totally have.

Here we go.

The GF, a few summers ago.

DAY ONE
9 p.m.: Preparing for house party I somehow tricked myself into setting up. Parties are probably the last thing I should be up to, but when do I ever do what I'm supposed to? Besides, it's nice to actually be spending a ridiculous amount of time (45 minutes) on my appearance instead of my usual smudged eyeliner and tussled hair rushing out of the door.
10:52 p.m.: BF arrives at the party and definitely appreciates the effort, stealing kisses and whispering "I can't wait to maul you later" into my ear. I pretend like I don't hear him so he says it again. I do that to him a lot, I'm surprised he's not annoyed with it already.
3:45 a.m.: Exhausted. Everyone needs to leave. Beer bottles, cigarettes everywhere. Floor sticky and gross. Crawl into bed to be promptly "mauled".

DAY TWO
1:36 p.m.: OVERSLEPT. Crap! I was supposed to go to the bank. I was also supposed to meet up with my parents about some stuff. It's just too cozy in bed. The curled up ball snoring next to me makes me think of a movie who's title now eludes me. I decide to quietly sneak out of bed and TRY to get ready to rush for that meet with the parents without waking the ball.
1:45 p.m. Plan pleasantly backfires as he finds his way between my legs. Ah my parents should have had other kids. BF is quite the mover.
1:51 p.m.: !!!.
3:30 p.m.: Finally meet up with parents. They are on their way to the movies. I don't hug them. I smell like someone who's been getting laid A LOT. My dad asks if I'd been out running. I say, "yes."

DAY THREE
2:30 p.m.: Overslept again. Late lunch with the BF. Settling into the long-silences-are-okay phase of relationship. Probably a fave part that so rarely makes it. Also, surprisingly okay is unbrushed post-booty hair. Now that's a look, huh?
4:57 p.m.: Slaving over a hot oven, roasting brisket and potatoes. Sweating. I hope I followed the recipe alright. I hope I don't look like a swamp creature from all the sweating. Sadly, no one is home yet to confirm or deny this possibility.
8:10 p.m.: Best friend–comments about how gay a couple we are. "You guys are always together! SO GAY!" I then make a joke about how she might have some latent issues...she gets quiet. Maybe I went too far?
1:23 a.m.: The bed is too loud. Afterward BF curls up besides me, wraps me up in his arms, and kisses my forehead. I can't help but think about the gay comment. The BF thinks it's hilarious. Then he says, "I wish I could quit you."

DAY FOUR
8:45 a.m.: Panic on the road to ________. I am going to be fifteen minutes late yet again. I console myself with the fact I am unpaid — the joys of the manipulatively cheap and disposable black market of volunteer work. Sweatshops have nothing on that racket.
12:10 p.m.: Counting the days till vacation. It's not coming soon enough.
5:55 p.m. _______ is boring me to death. Dirty text message arrives unexpectedly from the BF. I like him a hell of a lot. Instantly want to demonstrate my affections with an unsolicited BJ.

DAY FIVE
1:46 p.m.: Make small talk at __________ with a guy I had a short fling with ages ago. Surprised at how awkward this isn't. He suggests some really great bands, he smiles a lot, and I get a really calm vibe about him. I remember why we used to date.
1:53 p.m.: I also remember what a terrible lay he was. Thank God for not having to relive it, and count my blessings for the cool dirty lovin' I am having with a guy who's crazy about me.
Midnight: Date night ends with me on top and under to the left of my guy. Despite having a weekend full of getting it on, we are going at it like we haven't done it in ages. After 45 minutes of the nasty nasty, my BF tells me he's never been so deyhydrated and happy his entire life. :)

DAY SIX
1:07 p.m.: I kick ass. Assignments that is.
8:12 p.m.: Exhausted after long day of mind-numbing classes. Sitting in room full of people who take coffee too seriously, I come to the conclusion that the world will hardly change because I exist or cease to exist.
8:14 p.m.: I amuse myself by envisioning everyone in the group having sex. It doesn't take long for me to realize how awkward and disturbing this game is and abandon it. Yeah, I'm to never mix business with my messed up way of thinking again. EVER. Surveying the room, so far, so good.

DAY SEVEN
8:03 a.m.: Last day of classes before the weekend. Snooze for twenty minutes. YAY!
9:15 a.m.: Walking up ______ I wonder if the "I'm home safe" text messages my boy and I send each other after solo nights are sweet or co-dependent. Also wonder when we will go to _________.
6:15 p.m.: Dinner at _______ with a girlfriend. It feels like she's always trying to get me to say stuff. I don't think she's mentioned anything about her plans for the weekend or week--ever. When she does decide to finally talk, I'm too engrossed in my own thoughts. Dunno if I'm ready to live with the BF.
6:24 p.m.: After brief status updates on our respective relationships, I realize I am not ready(the move in thing), but decide to tell the waiter we are ready to order after all. Hey a girl has to eat right? _____ comments about how much better my life is compared to her's. I wish she'd quit that.

Total: 4 acts of intercourse; one dirty text message; one group-sex fantasy; one less-awkward-than-planned discussion with ex, one more odd conversation with best girlfriend.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The GF sometime this month:

DAY ONE
9 p.m.: Reading a book. I was going to blog, but I really want to finish this book up soon.
10:52 p.m.: BF is still playing videogames. I can hear him talking to the TV. I tell him to turn it down a little, I can't read with the noise.
12:45 a.m.: Time to sleep. BF kisses me good night and says we'll see each other tomorrow.

DAY TWO
6:36 a.m.: Wake up. It's too early. I'm so tired of waking up at this ungodly hour. I'm not going to eat. I play with the idea of dressing for work before I go to sleep. Maybe it would leave me more time to rest as opposed to rushing the dressing in the morning on drowzy drowzy limbs.
7:45 a.m. There's no traffic yet. Everyone goes into work at exactly 2 till 8.
11:51 p.m.: God, I want lunch. SOOOOOO bad. Maybe I should eat breakfast.
3:30 p.m.: Get a text from BF. He's having lunch with friends. He'll be over later, if nothing else happens. Looks like I'm going to eat dinner alone.

DAY THREE
2:30 p.m.: I'm tickled pink about the worst possible thing. Someone stole my boss's car. Can't be good karma for me, but it's his own fault for parking where he does. Mister can't be bothered with walking.
5:57 p.m.: I want to go home. Where are my ruby slippers?
8:10 p.m.: Run into former best friend at the store. She acts like I don't exist. Hmm...
11:53 p.m.: BF calls me. Says the guys and him were watching DVDs and talking about old times. He tells me he misses and loves me. I tell him I ran into _____ at the store. He says he's got some dirt on her. I tell him to shush. We say goodnight.

DAY FOUR
8:02 a.m.: Rain has slowed everyone down. WTF people?!
12:10 p.m.: Lunched at home. Checking stuff online too. Looks like the price for airfare isn't going to get any cheaper. Fuck it, book it.
7:55 p.m. BF and I are at a really nice little italian place for dinner. We hold hands a lot and the waiter tells us about the specials. There's a crowd of ladies at a table in the back who laugh really loud. My BF gets up, he knows them. He goes over to talk to them and I sip on my tea.

DAY FIVE
4:46 p.m.: I decide to cut the work day short. I want to catch a show that starts at 7.
7:53 p.m.: I've made it just in time to catch the opening act. They're actually kind really good.
Midnight: Drinking drink drinking. Talking to strangers about the show. So far, so fun.

DAY SIX
1:07 p.m.: I'm going to stay in bed for 10 more minutes, then go over to the neighbors for a little tennis.
4:12 p.m.: BF drops by. I'm hoping he's upset about me going to the show alone, but instead he's pretty chipper and brings me food. God bless him, I am starved.
5:14 p.m.: I ask the BF if he wants to do it. He says we can't because his stomach hurts. He ate too much.

DAY SEVEN
7:03 a.m.: Why am I up? Why am I writing? Why aren't I in bed? All these questions. This will not help me sleep. Time to hit the pillow again.
9:15 a.m.: Okay, I'm up I'm up. My boss has left a message on my phone. Who gave him my mobile number? I'm going to pretend I never got it.
5:15 p.m.: BF tells me his mom and sister are in town. They're doing some shopping and might want to have dinner with us. I try not to express either interest or disinterest. I wouldn't mind eating with them actually, but I do mind having to dress up for the occasion. These are some fashion knowing ladies. Even if they are polite and lovely, I'll feel less than crap if I'm not up to their style par.
7:24 p.m.: BF's mom calls to tell us she wont be able to make dinner. I'm relieved and disappointed. That's nothing new though right?

Total: 0 acts anything interesting; one plea for sex, numerous bouts of work boredom; 1 cold but not surprising run in with former friend; 2 forms of rejection and 1 excellent show.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Yeah, times sure have changed huh? :)

Words or pictures?

So everyone and their mom who has a blog going has a blog with better details and at the very least the occasional photo.

Captions that say, "Look, this is us at the Grand Canyon," or "Check out my new bike," etc etc.

I have a blog. I remember details, sometimes I can even type them up (and I have).
More so, I have lots of photos. LOTS.

So why is my blog without all of those things?
What's up with that GF?

Well...unlike those other blogs, I'm not trying to promote anything. I'm not even going for the occasional clap or "way to go" cheer given to the such blogs.

I'm actually trying to be as anonymous as possible.
While I'm pretty sure no one is really watching me like a hawk with ESP, I'm doing my best to keep this little part of blogspot as minimal and quiet as possible.

Still...the challenge of being able to put stuff up is interesting.

And with that, I'm considering making a few different little turns in here, that I hadn't considered before.

If only because picture or calender like posts are waaaaay easier than actual writing.

So here goes.

If you hate it, tell me.

If you don't, tell me too (but tell me with hand claps and "yays!").

Here goes...

Photographs do indeed tell some interesting stories...

....

Christ I need shoes!!!

...

The captions are endless, no? :)

Good good times all the same.

Beta Not

Another Web 2.0 application...except this one keeps track of your sex life.

Granted if you're blogging about it, you're probably not getting enough of it.



"Simply log in after every time you have sex and fill out a few simple fields. Before long, you'll have a rolling history of your sex life on which to reflect."

Hmm...yeah, this is going to be "handy." Sigh.

As my title says, it's in Beta, and I haven't tested it yet (really I haven't), but I'm really looking forward to all the Beta things I can write about later.
Beta Better, buttah....

Here's the site if you want it.

Bedposted

I'm outsies.

This just in!

Sex Without Condoms Is The New Engagement Ring!

DUN DUN DUN!!!!!

So if NPR isn't just trying to make headlines, maybe they're telling me I'm engaged. Or was for a while anyway...:-S

Read and listen to the full story HERE.

Talk about cheaping out with a diamond huh?

Home made hassles

My BF and I both have the same computers. We often refer to them as towels in that they are kind of like that whole HIS and HERS thing.

Thing of it though, is that MY stuff is also up for grabs for him to use.

I make a game out of it sometimes. And it goes a little like this.

I call it Pick an Item, Take an Item.
The goal?
Well it's not so much goal oriented in that it's more...
Eh, just that anything I touch suddenly becomes the item I can't hold on to.

Hey I find something fun in everything.

If we're both sitting down reading. I get up and turn the television.
I even ask, "Babe, you don't mind if I watch some TV do you?"
Him, "Go ahead babe, I'm just reading."

However, in a manner of minutes. The book is down and the remote that was in my hand has now magically been set in his hand.

The game is on.

Now that I'm not watching what I want, I decide, perhaps it's time to play a little DS.
Well well, what's this--again the magic.
Now the DS is his hands

Perhaps a little email is in call. I turn on the Mac, but I don't know if video games make a GF's hands weak and a BF's nimble...but you guessed it.

The computer is now on his lap with his favorite websites, as he putters away at Mario and the program of his choice blares in the background.

Me, "I can't have any technology can I?"
Him, "No, cause I'm a MAN!"

You get the gist of it, I'd take the game into the kitchen, but I think we already know how it plays out.

But back to the computer thing...
I don't keep a password on my mac (shocking I know).
You turn it on, it works.

I know I should probably put a password on the thing, but I just can't be bothered to wait for it to load when the day I choose for it to do so.

Plus, I don't think I have anything in it that really needs protecting...that is until a while ago when I put a CD in to transfer what I thought photos of ______ and trips to ________.

Yeah, you guessed it.

Old photos.
Old photos of...

Yep.


An ex bf among eh other things.

I'm pretty sure my BF wont go poking around my files, but with the off chance that he MIGHT...

Yeah, that's going to be quite a game uh?

(To Be Continued...)

If this is your party disregard my previous post

RSVP? GOD NO

Maybe I've mentioned this, maybe I haven't, but I hate people

Okay hate is a strong word and hating on some people would require me to have a reason for hating them. It would require me having to know them or of them. (BTW: People who I do love--I LOVE tremendously. If you want crazy loyal on your side, look no further than here--oh sure getting me there is going to be a task, and getting rid of me...well...moving along)

I should probably reword myself and say, I don't really like many people or that I don't put myself in situations where I'd have to hang out with them unless it is absolutely necessary.

Work being a place.

They(people) are there and I am paid to be there as well. Ergo, I'm stuck hanging out with those people in those hours that-- did I mention I'm paid for?

Well, I'm not a complete dick bastard in that I tell these people I only put up with them because I am getting paid.

Sure I should. Honesty is the best policy. But how many honest people make a living?

At any rate,I'm polite. I'm cordial. I even help them out if they need it.

I'm so darn nice, that when asked about me, I would easily bet that people only have nice things to say about me(because that too--while I'm not a fan of all, I do want to be liked--go figure).

What I don't do?
I don't do the "get involved thing".
Well not unless they are hot guys...but that's a WHOLE other story. ;)

Being involved right now, means that I don't listen to their problems.
I don't partake in the lunch room chit chat(Want to lose me instantly? Gossip. I hate it!), and I ESPECIALLY do NOT go to their after work parties.

I don't even go to the work parties.

I think they assume I have the worst luck in that I always catch some terrible disease or some relative catches said diseases that keep me from attendance.

Word on the street is that there are a number of "get togethers" in the works. All week I've been a ninja. Doing my best to go in and out of the office unnoticed by "the girls."

One of them is getting married in a few months and has a bridal party invition with my reluctant name right on it.

A little backstory: the soon to be bride (who I refer to "Whoreface" in my mental monologues) has been trying to get me to double date, or visit or do anything with her crowd for months. She's a whoreface because her face is like that of a whore, and I don't like her because she has a lovely bf whom I assume she kind of does wrong. (She talks terrible about him , fights on company time with and often flirts with the guys at office--it's gross take my word for it).

Anyway, because she's young and possibly stupid...she wants to hang out with me.
The play we'd have that flushes int my head shows up and plays out like this:

Me,"Look at us. Look! Do we look we really would ever have anything in common?"

Holding an arrow to my face. "See?"
Holding an arrow to her face: "You. You have a whoreface!"
Pointing it back to me, "I don't. See. Eh?"
"Whoreface vs. nonwhore face. It's two different worlds!"

Well whoreface with powers beyond anything I can fathom manages to surprise attack me with an invitation in the parking lot.

"You have to come to my bachelorette party! It's going to be soooo much fun. Free drinks. Free everything...OH!!!"
She pauses and extends this other tidbit of info on me as if it's going to sweeten the deal for me (like she thinks she knows me)
Wide eyed and with a mouth open to something whorey she blurts,
"We're going to _______'s!"

________'s is as you can imagine a strip joint , or rather a company that lets you rent strippers( a cheesy rip off version of Chippendales and crazy horse or whatever the places with the male stripper thing). They have a club, but if you're willing to pay more, they send some dancers to your party.

Yes, CLAAAAA SSSSY.

I hate brides and the whole pre bride lets go crazy party thing, and don't think it's because I'm bitter or jealous and anti marriage (which I'm not entirely.) I just hate the BS.

Think about it: yeah, what a lovely tradition--I'm going to honor my love in front of everyone we care about, I'm going to commit myself to this union in the eyes of god and world BUT before I do all that I'm going to get blind drunk and maybe get laid with some random stranger.

More than anything:

I FUCKING HATE STRIP ANYTHINGS!
( I have a number of insecure reasons as to why I hate strip clubs--those of which I wont get into on this post yet)

Eh sure, more than the usual fare of strip clubs, I really hate chick strip clubs.

(80s films and shows where girls "just wanna have fun" were lies. The life you showed me as a child...LIES)

I don't understand how guys looking at ladies=wrong (degrading to women)and sad,("Eww, those men at these places are such losers, they're disgusting, etc etc"), but women looking at men=hilarious and fun-empowering?

Ladies, you're just as sad and disgusting. Maybe worse.

That whole thing where women should do everything men do, is crap.
How is that making it better or equal?

Wouldn't better mean, you'd not stoop to that level?
Okay, maybe later with the feministing...

So yeah, the last thing I want to do in the entire whole free world is sit with a bunch of whorey chicks in a room with oiled up hot naked guys shaking and grinding their junk at me.

It's gay!

And I'm not putting gays down (I love the gays), I'm saying the word gay as in, it's gay that I'd be looking at stuff with ladies I'd rather not look at things with.

But okay let's look at this.
1.) I don't like these people. Hanging out with people you don't like is hypocritical and lame. Gay.
The GF doesn't play that. What's the fun in that?
What's the fun in me hanging out with an element I'm not comfortable with (whorefaces)?

2.) Looking at stuff that's supposed to be "titillating" with people of your same gender=gay.
Call me old fashion, but if you're trying to get a boner and you're getting said boner with other boners you are a gay.
If I want to get a boner I'm going to get one on my own. If anyone is going to be in that room with me and said boner it's because something is going on. Something private.
I want to look at in my own private time with my own private ideas, with a good likeliness that I will get to know privately.
Yeah yeah, I'm repeating myself, but I think that point has to be made doubly.

Maybe some people are comfortable enough with the sharing. Maybe some people get off on that, and bless 'em. Whatever that's there thing.
It's not mine.

Do I want to be in a crowd of screaming sex starved ladies attacking and subjectang some poor college tution owing guy?

Anyway, I only find nudity erotic if I have a chance at it.
If you're shaking your money maker at me, it's probably because I will be able to touch said money.

Not that I don't often look at stuff (and I do), but ugghh...

I'll do that on my own thanks. I don't need your support hollars.

Hmm...and now I've lost the point I was going to make.

SEE!

So yeah, I don't wanna go to such parties.
They are gross.

Look:

If this is you, you're gross and stupid.

I guess that was my point.

RSVP?

Only if it means:
Rather
Suck
Veiny
Penis

Oh it doesn't?
Then, Bah!!!

But, thanks for asking and please don't hate me. Okay, thanks, later. :)

ALVIN!!!!

This kinda thing NEVER gets old for me.

Not sunk yet

A better blogger would have done a post warning or at least giving his/her readers a little heads up.

A little notice.

"Something that would says something along the lines of "Hey Blog, I'm not going to be able to post for a few days because of _____________. Fret not, I will return on ____________."

Maybe even add something like, "You can read ___________ for the time being."

Something thoughtful. Something you know.

But that's "better" bloggers. That's people who are "thoughtful."

That's not THIS blog and I thoughtless.

Anyway, I will say this:

I'm sorry.
I'm really sorry.

I've been busy and so forth (why bore you with all the details).

I will write something soon.
(I'm writing right now, no?)

I'm going to look for my blogging hat in a bit and then get to work.

Until then...

Please feel free to leave some angry feedback or anything you deem appropriate for my inappropriateness.

You haven't heard the last of the GF.

Yeah, I guess we're all punished for this bad blogging behavior.

Good day and good blogging.

Oh Snap!

Wow, finally a trend that seems kinda cool.
Not that I don't like the new Ipods, or Pumas...but holy cow wow!

Okay, what's this trend?

Well, it turns out there are tons of young guys getting vasectomies(leg crossing time, I know even I do it, and I don't have the equipment, but hang in there--ehh?)...

Young, single men terrified of unwanted pregnancies, and sick of condoms, are turning to vasectomies for liberation.

B-R-A-V-O

Naturally some people are upset.

I'm guessing it's all the laidees (yes I misspelled it on purpose) who were just planning on some of that rent paying, jewlery/car buying winning basketball/baseball, football, actor, etc babyjuice might have to I dunno, get a job elsewhere (oh not another pun?!) and I guess people who like the idea of possibly squeezing one out some day...(okay whateves, it's a free country)

There are other people who are upset thinking that it's too drastic, too selfish, too anti woman(the one thing women had control over, and now a MAN is taking it away?!! How RUDE!!!), etc...

I'm not going to make any arguments to any side....

What I wanna know is where are these guys?
Why didn't or why haven't I been able to find one?

Wow a guy who takes responsibilty...I don't know about you, but I think that's attractive.

And that other thing doesn't hurt either...you know...(ahem ahem).

Mind you, I was a person who grew up with the fear of EVERYTHING.
They scared us really really good. AIDS was (and is) everywhere, and you pretty much had to wrap yourself in a trashbag if you were going to go within two feet of anyone.

For years, I didn't even know why guys complained so much...
"Oh please, it's not a big deal...it's this or nothing...I'm having a good time, who cares..."

Needless to say years later(after testing and in one of them full on monogamy things or rather after one of them "you're going to pull out right?" moments, I learned how very missinformed I had been.

TREMENDOUSLY missinformed.

So yeah...these "young whipper snappers" sound pretty cool.

Granted, the way things are going here. I think I'm living with a metaphorical vasectomie.

Anyhow, you can read the cutting story by going HERE.

I'm off to grab some lunch and do some shopping.

How NOT to get down

via videosift.com

I don't know about you, but I think black socks are the least of their problems.

Eeesssssh....

There but for the grace...

Benifitting from friendship

They can make all the charts they want, these things (as awesome as they are while they last) never really work out.

That we have to give up trying?
HELL NO!!!

Ass If

So not that anyone cares or has even really taken any notice BUTT, it seems Wal-Mart has a new logo.

Yep, looks like the little smiley face decided to whistle away the patriotic star and head for another direction.

Out with the hyphens and in with something...


No you're not bored, and yeah, it's a little yellow asterisk.

It's something that can...well be better expressed by a great author.


Taken from Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut

Maybe Wal-Mart wants to sell more tp.

Maybe they're trying to be honest?

Time will tell...until then I'll keep shopping at other places.

But will I be able to control myself?

I can't wait to see Tilly and the Wall. Did I ever think kids from Nebraska would control the beats permeating from my headphones?

Hey there's a first time for everything, right?

Worked up

It's late. I'm up.

I'm WIDE AWAKE too.

I'm off ONE day and I'm already not making the best use of it (i,e catching up on the ever elusive sleep).

But I can't sleep.

I'm not sure if it's because I had three Coke Zeros in a span of 12 hours (Hey, I haven't had anything carbonated in months, I slipped alright), they made my food go down easier.

If it's the weather. (Summer is for doing stuff people. Summer is for staying up late.)

Or my own brain, keeping me up with all kinds of nonsense and noise.

I tried to nap earlier today, but I made the mistake of "announcing" that I was going to be out of commission for a while because I was going to be napping. (Yeah, I SMS people when I'm going to nap so as not to be disturbed)

It wasn't even ten minutes (and two minutes into that lulling into sandmanland phase), when someone decided to look for a book in my room and had to do so by just storming in and turning the lights on.

A book?!

Who reads on the fourth of July?

You might be saying, "Well who naps on the fourth of July, GF?"

Uh, someone who's been working 40 hours on 4 hours of sleep that's who!

Anyway, now that I'm up, I figured what best thing to do than bore me and the other two souls that read this blog with a late night ranty rambling of blogginess.

What can I tell you?

The three sodas...yeah, not my best life choices. I wont even tell you about the other junkfood and amount of messiness I parktook in today. Will say this though...tomorrow afternoon, I have a huge date with the vaccume, some lemon pledge, and the maytag people.

What else?
Well, I haven't seen my BF in three days. Yes, three days.

And no, we haven't had a fight or anything. He's not in jail and he's not living a double life. He's just away I guess.

Actually, it's just something that's been happening more often now that we live minutes away from each other and something that probably happens to all people when they've been together a long ass time.

(If he's not "too tired" he's out with "his friends" or "caught up with a game")
I think I saw and heard more of him when we lived in different time zones, but go figure.

I also don't make any efforts to bother him or research into his whereabouts during these times of "disappearing".

I dunno, but I feel weird calling people and questioning them.

I have a few theories about this too:
1.) I'm a jerk who lives in the world of "I'm a girl and he should call me. He is the male hunter. He should do the hunting."

2.) I know where he is. Not that I have actual evidence per say, but I know, you know.
The knowledge that comes with that ever boring stage of the coupledom. Gone are the days of the newly and hyper neurotic jealous crazy girlfriend who requires constant and detailed updates. TwitterGF I am not.

Gone are the days of the BF who calls everyhour to tell you he loves you more with each passing moment.

These are the days of the BF who calls to tell you he needs you to pick him up his mail and some rolaids.

3.)Maybe he is a little peeved at me bringing up a few things the other day. I have a tendency to not edit my opinions in the best of ways. A high school teacher once said to me, "GF you don't pull punches do you? You just say stuff as you feel/think them, huh? I hope you never outgrow that."

That high school teacher was divorced and often remarked (be it jest or about literature) about how love was BS.

"You found your soulmate in 3rd period? This person lives down your street and knows all your friends?! WOW, talk about lucky lucky odds huh?" (She said so many things just dripping with sarcasm and cynicsm)

God I miss her.

Anyway I told my BF that he needs to get a job.
I've been bringing it up quite a bit actually. Specifically since he wants to buy things that are not within my budget.

His excuse for not working, was and has always been school, which I guess is an okay excuse for some people (mind you tons of people work, raise a family and go to school), but I don't see much of that going on either. It's not like all two or three classes he goes to take up every minute of his days.

I don't think I've ever actually seen him do a bit of homework either. Unless, jerking off, playing video games, and eating is all part of his master thesis...maybe it is.

He's not taking any courses during summer session either...

I dunno, I want to understand and be cool, but it's hard. It worries me, how little he knows about the value of things, and how he just feels entitled to stuff.

Sometimes I'm wowed and jealous even about the way he views things. I imagine his parents raised him to have a really great self image. (Now, he hasn't said this, and this is only something I've come up with from observing and living with him) But I pretty much get the notion that he thinks some things are simply beneath him.
Like he's too good for stuff.
He's too good to work.

Or maybe it's not even that, but that there is no need.

Need is a good fire.

He doesn't need to pay rent, he doesn't need to support a family, he doesn't even need to wash his own laundry (he has a maid).

Unless the job is, testing out mattresses for 1000 dollars an hour, I just don't see him budging.

And why should he?

He's from a well to do family. His family is fine with him living the life of a perpetual youth. Parents never view their kids as adults right?

His parents give him a daily allowance (what takes me two weeks to make, takes him one phonecall to mom or dad).

It bothers me that I'm bothered by this.

And we go about things in a completely non serious manner all the time...but it's a drag.

Me, "Why don't you get a job?"
Him, "Oh look at _____ (avoiding topic, changing subject).
Me, "If you don't get a job soon, I'm going to break up with you."
Him, "PFFTT, suuuuure you will. Hey look at this...."
Me, "I'm sleepy, I have to get up early tomorow for WORK."
Him, "I'm sleepy too..."

That's how it goes.

Might as well add it to the list of things I wont ask for anymore.

I'm done asking for sex.
I'm done asking for the remote.
and now I'm done asking him to look for work.

It doesn't even have to be full time or anything awesome either. Just something that means he's up for stuff.

I would take it as a sign of him respecting my respecting him.

Oh well it's safe thing too (or bad ass cop out for me anyway), because no matter how much my bf thinks there's a future with a house and kids and a little mailbox with the family name on it...as long as he's living the way he does, there is NO WAY I'm squeezing any of his kids or signing a lease with him.

NONE.

If he ever says things like, "lets move in"
All I have to say is, "get a job" and he changes the subject.

It's why I didn't move in with him when he lived in ______ , it's why I didn't go along with him when he said let's ________and it's why I wont move in with him now that he's in _________.

It's like I have a valid excuse to be uncommitted.

Should I ever do something rotten, I can always bring the "Get a job card" in this monopoly game we call "relationship"

God I"m a dick. I should sleep.

I'm less judgemental and picky when I get a few hours of zzzz's.