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In a perfect world, I’d just run around the house in stuff like this all the time.

This is literally what we talk about.

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Craftsmate: Your little asshole is SO CUTE.
Craftsmate: I wanna show you in a mirror or something.
Craftsmate: Because you never get that perspective.
Craftsmate: It’s this cute little pink-tan puckered little thing with the little pink wrinkles all shiny and soft looking.
Me: I KNOW WHAT MY BUTTHOLE LOOKS LIKE.
Me: SHEESH.

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sansshame:

I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.

What he said.

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Shut up, meanie.

nanking-decade:

The height differences are not great enough to warrant a step ladder.

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My ass is about to go take the GRE. Oy.

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Well, tumblr.

All the schoolwork, partying, staying out late, messing around, organizing, campaigning, and general burning the candle at both ends has finally caught up with me and I am sick. So sick. Really. My voice sounds like Neil Young’s.

Right now, I need to focus on self-care but my head is running at 10,000 miles a minute over thesis, the election, schoolwork and everything else. 

Since I am not the proprietress of a latex straightjacket (I’m intrigued, though, okay?), let’s hope I find some way to hold still, just breathe, sleep properly, and get myself together.

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Last night, SG asked me to friend his girlfriend on Facebook. Why? Because, in his words: “It will make her so happy”. 

I’m sorry, what? Excuse me. That’s just about one of the most inappropriate requests to make of me.

I have tried, in the time I have had something going on with SG, to basically avoid talking to his girlfriend. Occasionally, she’ll like something I’ll put on his Facebook or, according to him, ask about how I’m doing. And I’ll do the same for her. But, the two are in a nonmonogamous relationship with no sharing and a sort of out of sight out of mind mentality. 

And part of me has had integrity issues in the past with this sort of thing because I feel like she does this solely to appease him. She’s a very traditional girl, not really too bright, but almost painfully kind. Sexually, SG claims she’s not really on-point with what he wants. He complains that he can’t have an intellectual conversation with her. But, she’s sweet and tall and gorgeous and one of those Southern pageant queen types.

Yes, she even has a sash and a crown.

So, naturally, sometimes I feel awkward about the whole thing. Especially when he complains to me about her and how she only does stuff to make him happy and puts me in this really awkward position. And then to ask me to friend her on Facebook to make her happy is almost sort of insulting. As was two minutes later when he awkwardly transitioned into asking me why another girl wasn’t answering his booty-call to her. Which, fine, we discuss the other people we mess around with, but still felt so sleazy and horrible.

Maybe I’m still a little sore after the whole incident with Elle, even though he apologized. But part of me knows that this entire arrangement is becoming demeaning. Some of my friends are pretty insistent that I cut my losses and just get out. And part of me thinks that they are absolutely right.

But I have trouble letting go of people, especially when he offers these weird glimmers of hope amidst the ridiculousness. It’ll be a conversation or a moment or something he’ll say like “I prefer talking politics with you to dirty-talking you. And I really like dirty-talking you” that feels vaguely romantic and then I go God, what a low standard I’ve set for romantic.

There was a time when I was struggling through something for my portfolio and SG goes, “I know you can do it.” And I sort of shrugged him off and he said, “no, actually, I know you can. Because I found some of your work and I looked it over and I know it’s good. Because I still think about it sometimes.” I realized he happened upon something very old of mine in Elle’s house back when he and I were just getting to know each other. I told him I didn’t believe him and he made a reference to some little acute part of it and told me he would look at anything for me. And, lo and behold, he stayed up and did. And I was thinking the whole time, well, shit, he cares.

But I feel like he literally represents everything bad about me that can be found vaguely endearing. And I feel like this is all quickly becoming more trouble than it’s worth. But, I’m having trouble letting go. Because there are feelings there (oy) and that gets all kinds of messy. 

So, yeah, I probably need to grow a pair and have a little more self-respect. Eventually.

tomlet:

Strangers With Candy 3×4 Invisible Love

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Can I get the check on this week, please?

Yes, I am about to use my sex blog to whine.

This week has been a mess.

Sunday kicked it off with a really brilliant moral dilemma that I was totally not mentally or emotionally prepared to take on at all.

Work was absolutely horrible. Indescribably bad.

My car is totally, completely, irreparably dead. While we managed to get a deal on a rental, as my mother and I were sharing that car and literally have no other vehicle aside from our two feet, and can’t afford to get another car, literally half of my savings is going to it.

A really important deadline is fast approaching and I am having so much trouble getting everything together. 

I got into an argument with SG over Chik-fil-A, of all things. Chik-motherfucking-fil-A. And he was so immature and so condescending.

My laptop had a problem and, since I sort of need it for this deadline and quite a bit more, I had to go get that taken care of. Goodbye, even more money.

I haven’t gotten any in two months. Can I just put that out there? Because I am putting that out there because for God’s sake. I’ve been so stressed I haven’t even been in the mood for anything anyway, but ugh. 

Yes, I know, I’m whining. But I feel like life’s putting a gun to my head and telling me to shut up and walk.

So, check please. Get me the fuck out of here.