today, mhm well.

last night i fucked him. it wasn’t the first time but it was the best. we talked in bed for hours, i told him everything and he said he understands me now. then i got on top of him and kissed him hard. hard past his girlfriend, past everything we said, past my stomach ache and dry mouth.

the first time was fourth of july. we walked up from watching fireworks at the lake and took off our clothes and got in the bed on the outside porch. it was dark and cold and we could hear boom and crackle. maybe i was more drunk off blue moon than i thought, because i can’t remember details. just that it was fast and sticky and in the morning he looked at me all panicky and said “******, i think we left a stain here” and i was like “naw it’s fine”. the next night he confessed he’d been feeling guilty about his girlfriend all day and i said “what are you going to do?” and he said, “well im just not going to tell her” and i said “thats not what i meant” and got up to sleep on the couch. i took his blanket, so i knew he’d be cold all night.

today i’m wet just thinking about it.

because he’s one of those guys that gives you butterflies somewhere besides your stomach. he’s a godlike being, perfection delivered in a rock hard, 6’4, 210lb package. and he lives with me. i cook for him, i wash his underwear, i sleep three feet away. and he likes me. maybe. he’s one of those people that treats everyone the same, and im one of those people that neeeeds to be treated differently. but it’s all so preliminary. or he’s either taking it really slow or he’s uninterested. i don’t know. we need more time alone. i need a move.

***: you have to marry the *******.
me: he doesn’t like me.
***: oh he does. thats what i was just teasing him about in spanish. he thinks you’re really hot.
me: i’m not grown up enough to be liked.
***: oh you are. but you have to go rockclimbing and stuff with us.
me: i know…

but i don’t want to be “really hot”. i rather that conversation go like this.

***: you have to marry the *******.
me: he doesn’t like me.
***: he thinks you’re really special and smart and funny and better looking than anyone he’s seen before or will ever see.
me: oooh
***: ill sleep at mom’s tonight so you guys can hook up.
me: yeah, okay.

today i’m tired and headachey.

i just dropped my girlfriend off at her car and my brother at the bar. now i’m home alone and it doesn’t feel as good as i anticipated. i think im starting my period and it really couldn’t possibly be more inconvenient. i have two photoshoots on friday, and i’m picking up my friend at the airport on saturday. he’s staying for a couple weeks. plus i’m phenomally broke, living in a strange place and perpetually in a weird mood. i hate sitting here writing this while i know the kitchen is dirty and i’d be better off trying to sleep. i keep getting phone calls from “unavailable” but my phone is broken so i can’t pick up. i think it might be him and its frustrating. over and out…

today i want to see xmen.

last night i had a dream about this guy i hooked up with a couple times recently. i texted him “how are you feeling?” and he immediately responded “still sick. want to come lay in bed with me for a few days, rubbing my six-pack, eating ice cream and watching xmen? we can stop fighting about your tight pussy.”

today is anything to saaay.

you know how when you break up, you script a thousand conversations and interactions, compose a million letters in your head? but you can’t bring yourself to execution because you’re too strung out on possibility. when you’re finally ready, it’s because you’re in this lethargic, abstracted haze. and then you can’t think of anything to saaay.

today i broke the vacuum attempting to clean out my car.

and deeply regretted my brother and i’s summer-long addiction to sunflower seeds. even my tweezers can’t help me now, and shit, tweezers fix anything.

today i saw dad.

my head feels sticky from drinking too much lemonade and listening to metric during a 2-hour lecture about john cage and yoko ono. i want to hula hoop in the backyard but the neighbor is hanging out the window smoking cigs. dad just showed up in the driveway. he noticed the new dent in my car on the driver’s side door, which now opens about two feet and makes a loud metallic scraping sound.

dad; ohh ******.
me; hmm…
dad; i wish you had a passion.
me; mm.
dad; even something small, like keeping your car nice.
me; i guess.
dad; you float around doing nothing except for running into things.
me; i do stuff.
dad; not anything that takes effort.
me; hmm.
dad; i’ll pray for you.
me; oh.
dad; after august, you’re going to start paying your own car insurance. budget for it.
me; ahh.
dad; come over saturday morning for an oil change.
me; and cartoons.
dad; is your phone fixed?
me; maybe.
dad; you don’t know?
me; naw.
dad; i tried to call you twice.
me; why are those people staring at me?
(okay seriously, this little korean couple walking their dog had completely stopped and were turned around, gawking at me. christ, get on with your life.)
dad; they’re not.
me; oh.
dad; fix your phone.
me; okay.

today i examined a new rash.

i’m not even sure if it’s a rash. it just looks like a patch of freckles. isn’t that weird? it doesn’t hurt or anything. i’ll tell my mom tonight if i remember.

i know you can’t see it, but that’s the location. this is black and white because the colour version of myself has been discontinued until further notice. sorry for any inconvenience.

webMD update: mastocytosis??? no thank you…
mom update: uhm she doesn’t care haha

today i’ll take a shower and watch twilight again.

if for no other reason than this;
****** says (8:16 AM):
Did you see the author in the movie? She’s the big fat whale sitting in the café when Kristen Stewart is eating with her dad.
****** says (8:17 AM):
It’s like, “Holy shit, the only morbidly obese person in the film. If she was trying to be subtle she FAILED”

but really, it wasn’t that bad of a movie, especially when you’re anticipating some hallmark dragonheart vampire-remix. it’s entertaining and i’m already tired of everything in my itunes library.

today i woke up fucking early.

i was sitting naked with a stomach ache, wiping teary makeup on my pillowcase and wondering what the fuck time it is when my mom’s face appeared, coming up my stairs. usually i hear her coming since she’s one of those people that walks heavily, because well, she’s kind of heavy. i just said, ‘whoa, what are you doing?’ and she said, ‘you have my phone charger’. oh right. see if you can identify how this took place.