drawing – Page 4

Sometime while I was out last night, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I assumed it was a text, but it vibrated again. It took my phone out. Blue was calling.

“What do you think this is about?” I showed my phone to our mutual friend.

He laughed, “probably a drunk dial. Take it. It could be funny.”

I answered my phone and Blue asked right away, “where are you right now?” I named off the place. “Great, great, I’ll be there in five minutes, don’t move.” He hung up. I gave my friend a knowing look and we started laughing.

“I think I’m being booty called,” I shook my head and put my phone away.

Blue came in a few minutes later and made a beeline to us. He was quick to get me over to the couch and start trying to talk me up. I was sober, amused. His breath was hot on my collarbone and his hands were gentle but intentioned, “I don’t know, I don’t get attracted to girls like I get attracted to you. It’s your confidence, your sexuality, the way you look, that damn freckle…”

It’s hard to pick out the sincerity from the alcohol and the ambition sometimes. It felt nice to hear him say those things and I wouldn’t be crushed if he were just saying them to get some, but come on. And then there was his hand, at my throat.

“What are you doing?”

Blue chuckled, “you told me you liked this.”

“Not in the front of the children,” I gestured to my friends and got up. A few minutes later, he was off talking up some guy.

I have no problem with the fact that I didn’t get any last night. And Blue later apologized for his incredibly drunken behavior.

But I wish things weren’t so blasé sometimes.

Last night, a friend made some “special” brownies. (Yeah, yeah, I know the woman in the picture is smoking, but I couldn’t find any pictures of a cutie with brownies.) Although I’ve decided to give up smoking pot this year to do my lungs a favor, I’m not opposed to the occasional brownie.

Well.

I totally forgot I had band practice, mostly because I was just not up to going. However, now full of brownie and weed (seriously, two wonderful things), I managed to actually enjoy myself because I just felt awesome and it totally took my mind off some present circumstances that have been bothering me.

And, even better, although I felt like I was being an obvious mess, apparently I held myself together enough that when I told my friend afterwards that I was high as a kite, she was shocked. So, um, here’s to handling myself in public?

And here’s to special brownies: baked therapy.

Dear Followers,

Thank you so much for your messages of support, empathy, understanding and your incredibly kind words. It means a lot to me that you’re all so sweet and caring. I feel so privileged.

Last night was a little rough for me. A long-standing little unofficial tradition the thief and I had was broken and it hit me a little hard. It’s strange not to have that feeling of belonging that had become so familiar.

In other news, I gave up alcohol for Lent. So, yeah, let the dry days begin.

<3, Ivy

Truth.

Seriously. If we could just get somebody to leak the naughty list, we could throw some kickin’ parties.

The Holiday Party, Part 6

“Wait, you’re smoking with my neighbor?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry…”

“No, no,” Ren said, “it’s awesome. I’ll be up in a few!”

Of course, who came busting through the door instead but Noodlegirl’s boyfriend. According to Ren later on that night, he had freaked out and claimed that I might be off performing some “crazy lesbian ritual” with her. What. The. Hell.

Seriously? One, she’s not his girlfriend. Two, she barely likes him. And, three, lesbian rituals? Really? Because every lesbian is a witch suddenly. It just sucks that there’s two ways to handle a bisexual girl at a party, she’s either trying to steal your girl or she’s there for you to watch and drool over. Ugh.

This is about as close as it gets.

I had a dream last night that I was in the library, having a threesome with two people who are incredibly important to me. Only, I didn’t want either of the people to realize it was a threesome and that I was fucking more than one of them.

Meanwhile, my classmates in my Thursday seminar were waiting around the corner for me.

Oh, my subconscious.

inkwings:

Nightmare by blueabyss17404

I mean, just as long as he intends to mess up some sheets with me afterwards.

Yep.