we officially have internet at the house, which is why i am posting at a normal hour instead of at some godawful time in the morning when not even earthworms have been roused from their dwellings.
not like i'm an authority on earthworms. after three days of relatively vigorous garden-plot preparation, i have found nothing living. no bugs whatsoever. only cigarette butts, cat shit, and two trucks with dinosaurs imprinted on them. go figure.
am still struggling with weight issues, but that news is so old it doesn't deserve to be printed.
FA else to say, really. my attraction for women, once a mere pulsation, is now an itch that will not go away. i know, there are creams for that. a certain friend of mine who turns me on in a fashion my own damn boyfriend who, by the way, i'm much in love with, cannot, has sworn undying fidelity as penance for her mild sins and therefore i must pursue other options, which i currently have none of. well, hell. god didn't create my index finger for nothing, and i have an active imagination. although it's difficult to imagine lesbian sex when you've got a penis thrusting in and out of you. life is just one quandary after another.
it's first friday. drumming sounds are coming from the art gallery we live behind. i made chocolate chip cookies and now, looking at my stomach flab, am contemplating eating nothing but diet soda tomorrow. matt will be pleased, anyway. about the cookies, not the diet soda idea, which i'm sure would piss him off. i've found out i'm too liberated as a woman to justify making the bed. washing dishes? sure, it prevents mold. scrubbing the toilet? of course, who wants to look at yesterday's crap, right. baking cornbread for my iddow biddy wuv muffin? <i>mais oui</i>, it's practically a survival trait, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and believe me, i need all the help i can get.
re: my relationship, things are all well and fab (flab!); it'll be 6 months in 3 days, which i thought would never happen. i alternate between wanting to live my entire life with this person and realising that love is bullshit and so is permanent mating and i should just find a sperm donor, fuck around, and be done with it. the truth is, if i didn't have a boyfriend i would give up men altogether. they just don't do it for me anymore. any of them. listening to the honky-tonk badonkadonk song sure as hell doesn't do anything to combat my way of thinking.
i may just be disgruntled. maybe i need to get my clit pierced or something.
not like i'm an authority on earthworms. after three days of relatively vigorous garden-plot preparation, i have found nothing living. no bugs whatsoever. only cigarette butts, cat shit, and two trucks with dinosaurs imprinted on them. go figure.
am still struggling with weight issues, but that news is so old it doesn't deserve to be printed.
FA else to say, really. my attraction for women, once a mere pulsation, is now an itch that will not go away. i know, there are creams for that. a certain friend of mine who turns me on in a fashion my own damn boyfriend who, by the way, i'm much in love with, cannot, has sworn undying fidelity as penance for her mild sins and therefore i must pursue other options, which i currently have none of. well, hell. god didn't create my index finger for nothing, and i have an active imagination. although it's difficult to imagine lesbian sex when you've got a penis thrusting in and out of you. life is just one quandary after another.
it's first friday. drumming sounds are coming from the art gallery we live behind. i made chocolate chip cookies and now, looking at my stomach flab, am contemplating eating nothing but diet soda tomorrow. matt will be pleased, anyway. about the cookies, not the diet soda idea, which i'm sure would piss him off. i've found out i'm too liberated as a woman to justify making the bed. washing dishes? sure, it prevents mold. scrubbing the toilet? of course, who wants to look at yesterday's crap, right. baking cornbread for my iddow biddy wuv muffin? <i>mais oui</i>, it's practically a survival trait, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and believe me, i need all the help i can get.
re: my relationship, things are all well and fab (flab!); it'll be 6 months in 3 days, which i thought would never happen. i alternate between wanting to live my entire life with this person and realising that love is bullshit and so is permanent mating and i should just find a sperm donor, fuck around, and be done with it. the truth is, if i didn't have a boyfriend i would give up men altogether. they just don't do it for me anymore. any of them. listening to the honky-tonk badonkadonk song sure as hell doesn't do anything to combat my way of thinking.
i may just be disgruntled. maybe i need to get my clit pierced or something.