My mother came to visit for the day yesterday. I was so, so happy to see her and we wound up having a fabulous time. It was fun to show her around everywhere while my friends and everyone else was around and I didn’t have a lot of work to worry about. It was great to just give her a day and not have to think about other stuff.

We wound up having dinner with my friends at my frat. She loved everyone, everyone loved her, and I honestly miss her already. It was great to be approached for the rest of the night after she left while I was out and have people tell me they loved meeting my mother.

A funny moment at dinner was when I caught my mother checking out that guy from my frat and she nudged me and said, “well, look at the body on that guy. Do you know him?” I blushed and looked down into my plate. She laughed, “nicely done, Ivy.”

Shipping

Me: I think I am just about done with that guy from my frat. He just took a random girl home, he’s been sending way too many mixed signals, he’s also getting more and more ambiguous about his girlfriend…
My friend: No. NO. You can’t do that.
Me: Why not?
My friend: Because if this were a fanfic, I’d ship you guys. I’d ship you all day.
Me: Oh my God, stop it.
My friend: Listen, I was a dorky guy when I was a kid. But [a Brangelina-type mix of my and his name] is just too good.
Me: You definitely came up with that way too fast.
My friend: It’s a really good ship and you can’t mess with it.
Me: I can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now.

I am sorely (pun pun giggle) overdue for a spanking.

That guy from my frat and I hung out and did work together today. After last night, I’m of the mind that I deserve a spanking. The fact that he hasn’t given me one is totally egregious.

If I were a little ballsier, I’d send him this video as an example. But, I’m fairly sure he noticed the bow, so hopefully he can recognize that I’m repentant. Or up the ante a little and make me repentant himself.

Seriously, why am I not getting spanked right now? Also, where did the people behind this video go? They were great.

in-the-quiet-house:

sorely missed.

anybody know where littlemissspankypants ended up?

eponymouslocate:

(Source: http://thinkivykink.tumblr.com/)

So, last night my friend turned 21. Since I gave up drinking for Lent, my tolerance is now shot to shit and I get drunker faster. Much, much faster. With much, much less alcohol.

With an amount consumed that would normally not do too much damage, I found myself accidentally drunk on a Tuesday. Whoops.

Of course, naturally, I run into that guy from my frat and say some stupid stuff. Just par for the course. But, he texted me this morning to make sure I was okay, which was sweet of him.

But, ugh, too many times he’s encountered me drunk and I don’t want him to just think I’m a mess. He sees me sober a lot, but he misses me somehow on nights out when I manage to keep my shit together (the greater percentage of nights out). He asked me to formals recently and I consented, but of course now I’m worried I’ll wind up drunk and making a fool of myself there.

Part of me wants to just make him go away before I continue to just mess up over and over. He’s way too nice and understanding about the whole thing and I worry eventually I’ll push that kindness to its breaking point and he’ll just get sick of me.

Sigh.

You all are a bunch of pervs for mostly suggesting I go naked. As for the legitimate clothing suggestions, thank you.

My friend took pity last night and came over. She dug out some tall wedges, a high-waisted skirt, and this little tank top. I insisted that it was a little over the top, but she replied that it was just fine. Aside from formals and other sorts of events, I typically stick to skinny jeans and a top or a casual cute dress when going out. The difference would be perceptible and I didn’t want him to think I was like some kind of seventh grader smearing glitter all over myself for my first date to the movies where our parents would be watching from a few rows behind.

Well. He noticed.

In a just staring when he thought I wasn’t looking way. In a very eagerly offering to rub my back when I told him it was a bit sore way. In a desperate attempt to keep his hands to himself while I was sitting on his lap and he was rubbing my back way.

We still had our banter, but it seemed to be riddled with knowing smiles and little chuckles. Sometime during the night, I was told by this random gay guy that my legs were “pure sex”. I blushed and sort of leaned back against him as I thanked the guy who had said it. From the look I was getting over my shoulder, I think he agreed.

We had a great time, but the evening was cut short due to some stuff not really related to either of us. Maybe I could’ve gone home with him, but I didn’t. I sort of want to leave a little bit to mystery,

lychees:

(via traveling with the ghost (旧館 Old): Олег Михеев (Oleg Mikheev) × Алена Водонаева (Alena Vodonaeva))

Agh, help.

Tumblr community, I see how you helped Heart with her little date lingerie decision.

Well.

That guy from my frat and I are going out tonight and left to my own devices I’d dress like a second grader (actual quote from a friend). So um help me figure out an outfit and please suggest stuff because I just don’t know.

This message brought to you by my inability to be a functioning adult.

That guy from my frat and I have a sort of banter going on, explains my friend. We’re interesting to watch, sometimes in a funny way and sometimes in a slightly painful way. We don’t always go easy on each other.

Today, he sat down with some friends of mine and I and we proceeded to go at it with each other. There’s something about someone who comes so close to being able to outwit me that incredibly turns me on. Intelligence is terribly, terribly sexy. So is confidence.

When he left, one of my friends threw his hands up in the air and cried out in frustration, “would you two just fuck already?”

Guess what I’m stuck thinking about now.

“You know, you’re very pretty,” that guy from my frat said as we waited for drinks.

I chuckled and looked over my shoulder at him, “that’s it? You’re not terribly poetic, you know.”

“Oh, come on, Ivy,” he feigned dismay. “I do science. I don’t do overtures. You want a metaphor, fine? You’re as pretty as a Diels-Adler reaction.”

“A what?”

“A Diels-Adler reaction. It’s when…” From here, he explained something scientific that went completely over my head. Noticing my confusion, he cut himself off and said, “it’s really pretty. There. There’s your metaphor.”

I moved up closer to the bar and shook my head, “that’s a simile.”

“Okay, Ivy, okay, a simile,” he placed his hand on my hip. “You’re pretty like a barium cloud.”

“That’s another simile."

"It’s beautiful, I promise,” he said and used his free hand to grab me a drink.

I smiled, “I’ll take your word for it.” I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

I guess we all have our own sorts of poetries.

Reconciled.

Remember how I told you all that I said something to that guy in my frat that may have even dashed our hopes at just friendship? Well, I’ve been reconciled, as one of my friends called it. Part of me is glad it’s been essentially resolved, part of me is sort of embarrassed about the whole thing.

Here are the facts:

That guy from my frat and I hooked up maybe two weeks ago. He came out with a group of friends and I and, after partying, he realized he’d left something of his in my room. We wound up messing around a little bit. Oops.
After a few days of just generally being awkward, I went out on that ill-fated night and wound up trying to essentially pick him up. Unfortunately, this did not alleviate the awkwardness and instead just made us more awkward. Exponentially more awkward.
I let some time pass and gave the situation room to breathe and, on Friday, we schedule to go get brunch together on Saturday to “reconcile stuff”. This will basically consist of me apologizing to him over and over, something he insists that I do not need to do.
I catch him out the night before reconciliation brunch and wind up drinking a little too much and, once again, trying to get him in my pants.
I literally do not know why I keep doing this. One, I’m not even that into him. Two, it’s totally screwing with the friendship. Three, it’s just making things harder on me and I know it. In the words of my friend, “I think drunk Ivy likes to give sober Ivy some adversity to overcome.” Great.
We go to brunch the next morning where I apologize profusely and, when I don’t apologize profusely, I make the most awkward conversation known to man. But, God, that kid is forgiving.

Moral of the story: Sometimes it’s just better to be friends with unfulfilled sexual tension.

Things I am stressed about today:

Last night, I accompanied my best friend out and may have allowed her to get a little wasted at a party. At one point in the evening, she pounced on me and tried to make out with me. I managed to wrestle her off, knowing she was totally not in the right state of mind, and she almost started crying because of some trouble with a guy she had been hooking up with. Awesome.
During the evening, I completely said the wrong thing to that guy from my frat and I am fairly sure I may have completely screwed things on even a friendship level there.
The evening ended in me, her, and her ex-boyfriend in a shouting match in the student center at three in the morning when she wanted to go home with him. He was absolutely awful to her and he got ultra-defensive when I asked her if she was going to be okay with this decision.
Today, I finally heard from her. She doesn’t remember last night, partially from being blackout drunk and partially because they had such violent sex her head knocked the headboard and she got a concussion.
When I told her what she did last night, not realizing she was just getting out of a hospital, she broke down crying and called herself the worst person on Earth.
I am now headed over to her room with cookies so we can sit around and bitch about men.

Seriously, tumblr, can I ever just catch a break?