To the boy in my history class, the one who clears his throat every 34 seconds:
Get a fucking drink of water already! Jesus!
Monday, March 10, 2008
Monday, March 3, 2008
How many ways can you say "single?"
I have managed to become screamin' single. Yes, that's different from my prior state of singleness. See, here's what happened...
I had the most beautiful, perfect bed. It was firm, big, and I rolled myself all over it. There was wrought iron head and footboards that were perfect for the occasional tie-up. Or tie-down, whatever. The pillows were billowy and I wanted to always stay there - forever and ever - until one day...
I moved back in with my mom so I could go back to school. We have become more like roommates rather than a 30-something living with her parents. The problem is the space I get to live in is quite small. The den is stacked with my crap and my bedroom is a bit on the tiny side. So I made the decision to get rid of my bed and get a gasp! smaller one. Mom's bed is far too old so I said she could have mine (I feel a tear cracking out right now), it's better for her back.
I moved her bed out of her room, and then moved mine in. Mine is so dense and heavy, I needed her help. However, I forgot my little bag of, ahem, tricks were under the bed. Once the boxspring was up a huge "uh-oh!" crashed out silently. I tried to nonchalantly pick up the bag, pretending it was nothing, really. But, oh me, I picked up the wrong end! But I was saved from the embarrassment of my mother seeing my pink glittery dildo because it is contained within a medicine bag, which is inside a shoe box, which is inside the bag. The shoe box fell out but I was able to pounce on it and keep the lid on. "Ha-ha!" I yelled, to myself, in my head, because I made quite the save. As I shoved it in the closet, still as calm as can be, I noticed a square purple thing on the floor where the bag had just been. A condom. An unused condom snuggly contained in loud, purple packaging. Fuck. So I tried to hide it by stepping on it. So sure she had not seen it, and shuffled it away, ninja-style. I think I am cooler than I really am. How could she not notice all that nonsense? Me: not cool, dumb-ass.
Now I am in a bed that fits ONE. Hi single. I used to flop about in my other one, and now I rest like I'm in a coffin. I had to push it against the wall so I had only one side to fall out of. But now I bang my arm on the wall. Dear god. My first night in my bed-for-one, something on the floor caught my eye: A clear, plastic travel-size of lube. Please, please make it STOP!!!
I had the most beautiful, perfect bed. It was firm, big, and I rolled myself all over it. There was wrought iron head and footboards that were perfect for the occasional tie-up. Or tie-down, whatever. The pillows were billowy and I wanted to always stay there - forever and ever - until one day...
I moved back in with my mom so I could go back to school. We have become more like roommates rather than a 30-something living with her parents. The problem is the space I get to live in is quite small. The den is stacked with my crap and my bedroom is a bit on the tiny side. So I made the decision to get rid of my bed and get a gasp! smaller one. Mom's bed is far too old so I said she could have mine (I feel a tear cracking out right now), it's better for her back.
I moved her bed out of her room, and then moved mine in. Mine is so dense and heavy, I needed her help. However, I forgot my little bag of, ahem, tricks were under the bed. Once the boxspring was up a huge "uh-oh!" crashed out silently. I tried to nonchalantly pick up the bag, pretending it was nothing, really. But, oh me, I picked up the wrong end! But I was saved from the embarrassment of my mother seeing my pink glittery dildo because it is contained within a medicine bag, which is inside a shoe box, which is inside the bag. The shoe box fell out but I was able to pounce on it and keep the lid on. "Ha-ha!" I yelled, to myself, in my head, because I made quite the save. As I shoved it in the closet, still as calm as can be, I noticed a square purple thing on the floor where the bag had just been. A condom. An unused condom snuggly contained in loud, purple packaging. Fuck. So I tried to hide it by stepping on it. So sure she had not seen it, and shuffled it away, ninja-style. I think I am cooler than I really am. How could she not notice all that nonsense? Me: not cool, dumb-ass.
Now I am in a bed that fits ONE. Hi single. I used to flop about in my other one, and now I rest like I'm in a coffin. I had to push it against the wall so I had only one side to fall out of. But now I bang my arm on the wall. Dear god. My first night in my bed-for-one, something on the floor caught my eye: A clear, plastic travel-size of lube. Please, please make it STOP!!!
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