Catching up, Catching fire

Its been so long.  Life went on with out my documentation of it.  Without me needing to put my feelings out on paper.  Able to express most everything I needed to.  Everything else was just a passing fancy.  Mostly.

I can't believe its been three years since I've posted.  Lets see if I can't catch up.

I'm back with M.  Its better.  Still a battle sometimes, but show me a relationship that isn't, at least once in a while, a battle.  Communication is better.  Sex is more prevalent. I get my space.

I do less hiding.  I do more living.

We bought a bed.  A big bed.

It feels a lot like commitment without the whole ring and married thing.

The married thing.  I'm not sure about all that.  Somedays, I wish it would just happen.  That he would ask, and I'd say 'yes' and we'd live happily ever after...

But then I think, really think, I don't know that I can do that.  I don't know - even now - that this is right.  I do know that its easy.  And comfortable.  And lovely.

But not really, a lot of spice.  I like spice.  Not on my food but in my life.  But with spice, comes drama.

And I hate drama.

Like really...

HATE drama.

Thus my conundrum.

Without spice, comfortable sounds like boring.  Easy sounds lazy.  Lovely sounds more like an insult. Love becomes a four letter word.

Gah.  When did I get so jaded? Hahaha

Seriously?

Does every guy want to see me naked?


I'm a little shocked at the guys coming out of the woodwork suggesting I do nude photos. Old friends from college, guys I work with.
The balls on some of these guys astonishes me.


Holy Crap. I don't know what just happened.

Trouble...

I promised myself I would write today about this thing that has been on my mind for the last few weeks since I had the house to myself for an hour or so this morning since M started his new job today and the roommates are scattered to the winds...
But alas, here I am thirty minutes before I have to go to work with nothing accomplished except the sink clean, the toilet plugged (don't get me started), and eating a ham and spaghetti sauce sandwich (not as good as it seems at the get go - hey don't judge, I was attempting to be adventurous.)
The main idea was that I was going to grow up. For no good reason I seem to have my heart set on getting my heart broken. I have this huge thing for Trouble. I just need to get over it. I don't think friends are going to work since we are apparently magnets that can't stay away from each other unless the atmosphere of professionalism is between us. It's trouble.
What can I say? I know trouble when I see it....
And yet...
I can't seem to keep my heart from lunging for it.
Why do girls always find that one guy who is just absolute trouble?

I am going to kick some serious ass.

Being Female

Girls are spectacular creatures. I should know, I am one.

I've tried denying it for a long time. And I still do from time to time. I've always resisted all those qualities in women that drive me up the wall.

But...

I don't know. I rather feel like embracing it all. It seems like that is the only way I can be satisfied with myself. Why am I fighting what I am? I can manage those things I view as faults.

It's ok to cry, sometimes.

A Rest

Its hard to write when there is always someone there that might look over my shoulder at the monitor. It's not even that I care if people read it. Well, maybe some people. but it's like doing homework with the very music you hate blaring in the background... it just isn't possible. It's distracting in the worst way.
What I wouldn't give for a laptop sometimes. Or, you know, a room to myself. Ah the life of a poor college student with a roomate with a boyfriend with several friends who like to party... in our room with beer. (Crazy country boys, gotta love 'em)
I'm just whining. I love it. Really I do. Sometimes you just need a rest.
A rest.
That's what this week has been about. Was supposed to be about. I suppose, though, that life has a way of changing your mind about what you think you need. Like how I stayed up until four in the morning with the boy. That's a different kind of rest altogether. Oh but, a hot tub and a foot massage. I mean, who can argue with that? That certainly is relaxing, even with the acrobatics that followed...
And now, I'm craving something entirely different...

Fabulous

I bought this spectacular little black dress this morning. Spent money when I shouldn't have especially this close to Christmas. Waited in suspense all day long just to it home to prance around since the two minutes appraisal in the dressing room at Penneys.

I really can't afford this...

But it is fabulous.

I really can't be spending this money...

Its black, I would wear it more than once. Every girl should have a little black dress. It's a fashion thing.

It's a little snug...

It's sexy.

It shows my knees. I hate my knees...

Oh get off it, you love it. It is on sale...

...

This dress is so mine

I don't indulge in being female very often. I actually try to supress the impulse any time it tries to rear its ugly pink, fashion-consious head.

But this really is a fabulous dress. I'm so going to knock them dead.