While this is mostly a test to see if I can post to two blogs at once, it is also a symbol of the change I am going through, and I feel the need to revamp myself and this blog! So from now on (probably), my blog posts will both appear at redblacktree.tumblr.com and lucifersbrothel.blogger.com . That way people can look at the tumblr site to see just my posts. The tumblr one might have a bit more to it as well, so you may wish to check that.
But yes. "New beginnings," so to speak, and as cliche as that expression is. I feel like I've been in the process of a great change in my life, and things are just now coming into fruition. I have a nice job, fantastic friends, grades could be better but I have manage to lose a lot of weight. I am still not as emotionally stable as I'd like, but I am certainly getting better. For now, I have to focus on two things: finally finishing losing this weight (got about 15 pounds to go) and becoming a fantastic programmer, as that is what I want to do with the rest of my life. But both of these things require that I work hard and conquer laziness. Kinda funny how it all leads to that.
How do I work on that? At one point I felt like I was making progress because I would think about how much better my life would be if I just wasn't lazy and did the things I needed to do; school, work, gym, exercise. That worked but, like many of the conclusions I come to, they dwindle. How do I make it stick? Do I tie a string around my finger to remind myself, or do I get a contact lens with the words "Your life will be a million times better if you do what needs to be done, now!" on it so I am constantly staring at it? All great ideas, really. Maybe I'll change the background of my phone to something along those lines.
I will succeed.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
i wish i was a robot
Everything would be so much easier. Not in the metallic-body-automated-voice type, but one that evolved to satisfy the cravings of evolution. Knowledge chips: check. Emotionless logic: check. Relative immortality: check. Machine gun that pops out of my hand: check. (Of course, after it appears and kills all the people i want it to kill, it would disappear back into my arm). With all that, who would want to be human? Why go to college, try to learn, and be humiliated by geniuses and that TA when she gives you the grade thinking she's better than you, when you could just pop in a chip that downloads everything you need to know directly into your mind? Why bother feeling sad, moody, or regret when you encounter a situation as a direct consequence of your previous actions, when you clearly know it was the most logical, most correct decision? And, why wouldn't you want to live to forever, when you've got knowledge, strength, power, and the appearance of normality, uninhibited by feelings?
Movies lament and pity the ones who have unlimited power and life, by saying there is no point to that when there is nothing to lose. Nothing to lose? They are gods. Humanity doesn't appreciate immortality because we are mortal; we aren't impressed by emotionlessness because we, as emotional beings, want to be that as well. By being in self-denial, we represent the most fatal error of being, well, humans. We lose sight of logic in the presence of feelings, of jealousy, of envy, of... sympathy. Everything has inertia, and human minds have the greatest inertia of all. Stubbornness, hatefulness... all because others have something we don't, something that might make them a better version of us.
It is disgusting, the general public. The mass of people who merely stand on one side of an argument, only listening to one perspective and deaf to the others. The ones who, at times of need, follow mindlessly, like a bunch of starving hyenas after an old antelope. But the hyenas don't realize why they are so desperate for this antelope, when there are others, younger, meatier, more delicious ones. It's because it's right in front of their faces, and that hunger blinds them to everything else around them. And after they finish devouring the easy prey, and merely whet their appetite, since there is little meat, they find that they must starve for a lot more time. For, during this short chase to catch this sick, dying elderly meal, they scare away all the good, potentially filling, healthy antelope. But they repeat this process again and again, always picking the easy yet distasteful appetizer, because they fail to analyze (or perhaps they have no ability to?). Humans are animals, like the hyenas on the prarie. The process that our errors take is on a different, much bigger scale, but the end result is the same. Death comes to hyenas because of starvation of food; death comes to humans because of starvation of thought. No matter how much certain individuals believe that humans are more intelligent, that we are higher up in the food chain, we are still creatures of instinct. The instinct of a hierarchy. Following due to need, not of abilities, is our instinct. We can't possibly think for ourselves, when a man suddenly appears in front of us and promises us everything we don't have. We don't wonder if that is even possible. We don't learn the concepts, so we become idiots, puppets on a string of a smarter group of people. We don't truly listen, because we have our own set of goddamn beliefs and prejudices. People talk of conspiracy and how it takes away the rights of the people. I say, fuck the people if the people have no brains. Fuck them if they really think one man can create heaven on earth, a land where everyone is happy. Read my words. If you really thought he could make it all better, then you deserve to be disillusioned of this stupid idea. Feelings, feelings. Just because he's black doesn't mean we've gotten over racism. Just because we elected a black president doesn't mean the US is suddenly the best country on the planet or in the galaxy. It means jack shit. Our country isn't run by one person (so all of you wishing Bush would die, fuck you too! the whole country, the Senate, the generals, all wanted the war. we're not an autocracy, so it's all about: EVERYONE. chew on that); it's run by democracy. And democracy is "rights, rights, rights" so don't expect much to come out of the checks and balances, because that's what it's goddamn called. By balancing, you can't exactly move at the speed of light. Apparently this turned into a political rant, which it wasn't supposed to be, so I will get back to my previous topic.
I am disillusioned by humanity. By shunning and ignoring everything that could be potentially better than us because then we'd feel jealous and not as powerful, we are creating a ridiculous society. Movies that always end with the good guy winning and the bad guy either losing or dying is basically feeding the message to the (already dumb) society that there's no possible way that anything bad could happen to us, the good guys. It makes the fall all the more higher and painful when one by one (slowly, of course) everyone realizes that it doesn't fucking happen that way.
By being emotionless, there would be no prejudices, no anger, no insults that penetrate the armor. Along that thought, we would also lose happiness. But if happiness is a function of our behavior by guiding us along the right way, wouldn't logic be a shortcut? If we're happy when we see a cute puppy because of a nurturing instinct, by being logical we would just take care of it anyway, since happiness was to induce us to take care of it. When we see a loved one, we're happy because, well, they're alive and because that social connection allows us to feel that we belong. But there's that word "feeling" again. What if we just got rid of it? Happiness is a small price for right decisions all the time, using cold, hard logic rather than emotional impulsivity.
Jealousy, of course, as a major player in society's vices, should be the first to go.
Movies lament and pity the ones who have unlimited power and life, by saying there is no point to that when there is nothing to lose. Nothing to lose? They are gods. Humanity doesn't appreciate immortality because we are mortal; we aren't impressed by emotionlessness because we, as emotional beings, want to be that as well. By being in self-denial, we represent the most fatal error of being, well, humans. We lose sight of logic in the presence of feelings, of jealousy, of envy, of... sympathy. Everything has inertia, and human minds have the greatest inertia of all. Stubbornness, hatefulness... all because others have something we don't, something that might make them a better version of us.
It is disgusting, the general public. The mass of people who merely stand on one side of an argument, only listening to one perspective and deaf to the others. The ones who, at times of need, follow mindlessly, like a bunch of starving hyenas after an old antelope. But the hyenas don't realize why they are so desperate for this antelope, when there are others, younger, meatier, more delicious ones. It's because it's right in front of their faces, and that hunger blinds them to everything else around them. And after they finish devouring the easy prey, and merely whet their appetite, since there is little meat, they find that they must starve for a lot more time. For, during this short chase to catch this sick, dying elderly meal, they scare away all the good, potentially filling, healthy antelope. But they repeat this process again and again, always picking the easy yet distasteful appetizer, because they fail to analyze (or perhaps they have no ability to?). Humans are animals, like the hyenas on the prarie. The process that our errors take is on a different, much bigger scale, but the end result is the same. Death comes to hyenas because of starvation of food; death comes to humans because of starvation of thought. No matter how much certain individuals believe that humans are more intelligent, that we are higher up in the food chain, we are still creatures of instinct. The instinct of a hierarchy. Following due to need, not of abilities, is our instinct. We can't possibly think for ourselves, when a man suddenly appears in front of us and promises us everything we don't have. We don't wonder if that is even possible. We don't learn the concepts, so we become idiots, puppets on a string of a smarter group of people. We don't truly listen, because we have our own set of goddamn beliefs and prejudices. People talk of conspiracy and how it takes away the rights of the people. I say, fuck the people if the people have no brains. Fuck them if they really think one man can create heaven on earth, a land where everyone is happy. Read my words. If you really thought he could make it all better, then you deserve to be disillusioned of this stupid idea. Feelings, feelings. Just because he's black doesn't mean we've gotten over racism. Just because we elected a black president doesn't mean the US is suddenly the best country on the planet or in the galaxy. It means jack shit. Our country isn't run by one person (so all of you wishing Bush would die, fuck you too! the whole country, the Senate, the generals, all wanted the war. we're not an autocracy, so it's all about: EVERYONE. chew on that); it's run by democracy. And democracy is "rights, rights, rights" so don't expect much to come out of the checks and balances, because that's what it's goddamn called. By balancing, you can't exactly move at the speed of light. Apparently this turned into a political rant, which it wasn't supposed to be, so I will get back to my previous topic.
I am disillusioned by humanity. By shunning and ignoring everything that could be potentially better than us because then we'd feel jealous and not as powerful, we are creating a ridiculous society. Movies that always end with the good guy winning and the bad guy either losing or dying is basically feeding the message to the (already dumb) society that there's no possible way that anything bad could happen to us, the good guys. It makes the fall all the more higher and painful when one by one (slowly, of course) everyone realizes that it doesn't fucking happen that way.
By being emotionless, there would be no prejudices, no anger, no insults that penetrate the armor. Along that thought, we would also lose happiness. But if happiness is a function of our behavior by guiding us along the right way, wouldn't logic be a shortcut? If we're happy when we see a cute puppy because of a nurturing instinct, by being logical we would just take care of it anyway, since happiness was to induce us to take care of it. When we see a loved one, we're happy because, well, they're alive and because that social connection allows us to feel that we belong. But there's that word "feeling" again. What if we just got rid of it? Happiness is a small price for right decisions all the time, using cold, hard logic rather than emotional impulsivity.
Jealousy, of course, as a major player in society's vices, should be the first to go.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
You Know What I Mean...
We all have them, men and women alike. And for both sexes, it´s a source of anxiety. Though, admittedly, it’s more a female issue. It’s bigger the better right? But why?
Is it because they feel better? There’s more to play with? Or are they just more mesmerizing? I must admit, when I see a girl with GINORMOUS boobs, i look. More so in awe and jealousy than anything else. Are the bigger boobs almost magical in that sense? I’m not sure. I hear horror stories about how they get in the way, draw the wrong kind of attention and more. So maybe there is a point at which it’s not so much adored as it is shocking.
I don’t think women who buy boobs that are as big as they can get look good. For one, they look like they stuffed basketballs underneath their skin. It’s stretched, taunt, and so chiseled that they don’t seem to move. (though, i don’t know that for sure. I am not one to fondle another person.) But they are all over the magazines and covers. It’s like, we are told. Baby, you better have giant knockers for me to play with otherwise, i shall tire of you.
But then there are guys who say, i don’t mind the size. The smaller ones are okay too. But you don’t really feel they are. Because you can look in the mirror after putting on a jacket and say, hey, where’d you guys go?! And if they’re small, that means you have to worry that much more about your stomach. Because the HORROR to be a girl with a tummy that is bigger than her boobs. That would be the worst fate imaginable. I pray i will never get that bad, but so far, i’m okay. But still, you see yourself disappearing at times, especially in the wrong clothes.
Maybe it’s the entire story about the grass being greener on the other side. But I want to see what it’d be like to have bigger boobs. I mean, would it feel fun? Would i want to run out and buy new shirts or walk around happier with myself? I’m not sure a part of me screams no because i wouldn’t like people staring. But then, why do i want them? Well, just to have them! I’d feel more sexy at times, not for other people but for myself. Maybe more feminine, i’m not sure. That’s my story sometimes. But then other times i’m happy with what i have.
I think, hey, well, at least they don’t get in the way. They aren’t heavy at all (i forget they are there 
) I think, hey they fit my hands okay, so they won’t be like a prepubescent boy’s chest. Right? I can wear bras, so I know i’m not that lacking. At least i have them. And if my shirts are tighter, they don’t drown in the clothing so much. So maybe, we just have to be happy with what we have, or save up a lot of money and endure forced change. (i don’t want the second one)
But this leads me to another complaint, or rather thing i wish i could change. Body frames! GD body frames! The one constant you can NEVER hope to change. It’s like karma’s way of saying, Haha BITCH! Diet all you want, this right here, you see it? That’s BONE! To which you can only reply with a sad sob or nod. I wish I didn’t have what my brother calls “lineback shoulders.” I can never forget his, “If i make a football team, i want you to be the linebacker. Your shoulders are bigger than guys’!” That whore. LOL. But seriously! Or the you are too tall, too stocky, too lanky, too bony. Those complaints should never be voiced. They can’t be changed! It’s like telling a cat it’s ugly because it has fur!! It’s just not fair.
But you never see big boned girls on magazines, or being the main characters in books, or even in movies. It’s always the tiny little girls. And not everyone can be like that! Some of us have giant thighs, or hands, or feet. It’s not like we went and said, can i have more of this? BEcause i’m sure no one would do that. But really, i feel like the ones that are different are equated with less. And also, the idea of not having any hair anywhere besides our head! It’s like, must i really shave my arms and legs every other day? Can’t i just be furry? But no, then people say things like yeti or you look like a man. (Once again, courtesy of brother circa middle school)
So many rules and regulations! It’s like jumping through hoops that sometimes aren’t even on the ground, they’re on fire and ten feet in the air. So I guess i had no real point or conclusion i was heading to. Which sometimes happens when i blog. But i feel like i wish i looked different. Everytime i look at a music video, i think, she looks so much better. Look at her arms, her stomach, her boobs. She’s like perfection dancing on stage. And me? Well, i get attention from people online who see a picture of my face and think i’m ‘beatiful’ or ’sexi.’ it’s not the same thing! But maybe this is all because i follow what our culture and media is telling me is beautiful.
I know there are many couples, and people who think they are with the most beautiful person. That are forever in love with someone they view as perfect, but to others look like they aren’t even a 7. I think that their view of beauty is cultured and developed through love. And that idea of beauty i think is more attainable and powerful. YET, so invisible and not always lasting. It’s not like you can say. Well, i dont look like her, but someone somewhere will think i’m even more beautiful one day. It’s an awesome idea. But really, that doesn’t help in the NOW! Plus, what if he died or is way too old or young? Then what?
I constantly struggle with feeling pretty enough or smart enough or good enough. I think of these awesome ways to attain this, but i struggle with always seeing them as the solution. But that doesn’t mean i don’t want bigger boobs, a smaller stomach, prettier skin, and skinnier thighs. Because, damnit, i want that stuff!! >.<>
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Unresolved, still
It is currently 4:30 AM. I am staying up late with my roommate and his girlfriend, and we are about to sleep. Today was a good day, we all hung out at target, along with a Korean friend and my good friend, my neighbor. Then everyone except my neighbor went to Korean barbecue, where we consumed large amounts of meat. Twas good.
The pleasant experiences of the day were occasionally interfered with the Korean friend requesting beer. He is underage. I don't care much, but every time he spoke about it, it brought up some tension in me, some small sickening feeling in me. It reminds me that I can't let my guard down to my friends, because they will often disappoint if you do. I cannot expect any one of them to change, that is foolish. And drinking beer isn't a massive deal anyways, pretty small in the grand scheme of things. Nonetheless, the small sickening feeling remains.
But, today was indeed still fun. We went back, sang songs while I played my guitar, watched and played video games. However, I never met up with my neighbor, which was disappointing because I wanted to make a cake and maybe watch some TV shows. She is an extremely good friend. But alas, she is a busy lady with many friends of her own, so I should not be clingy.
This is unfortunately complicated because me and her are what we call "sober buddies." That is, we don't drink, at least we believe we should not. In practice however this is pretty difficult - we are in college and there are many temptations, especially for her since she is a very outgoing, sociable person. So it doesn't always work out the way it should, and I always get quite worried whenever it is a Friday/Saturday night and she's not online or won't respond. Clingy, but bad things have happened in the past. Still clingy.
Well it being a Saturday night there are their usual loud parties, in fact right now I hear a fire alarm that has been pulled. I heard loud people outside my door, so for funsies I went to go out there and yell "HEY!" loudly. But there were no people in the hall - it was coming from my neighbors apartment. A party right across from me, how very exciting! And of course I hear the shrill voice of my neighbor laughing and talking. So at that point I definitely assume she is quite drunk, or on the road to being so, then walk away with a considerably more powerful sickened feeling in the pit of my stomach. Also everything got colder. She was neither online nor responsive to my text of "Sober buddies!"
Best case scenario - she wasn't drunk at all, I'm worrying too much, she just was having fun with her roommates and some people they invited over. If this is the case, then I need to learn to let people be! They are capable of making good decisions, she is a smart and strong girl and she knows whats right and whats wrong. I am an overly clingy person who over thinks things that will work out for the best! Maybe it wasn't even her voice I heard, and she had just decided to go to sleep early. She didn't answer my text or im's because she had just forgot and was pretty tired.
Worst case scenario - she got stark raving drunk. Her roommates decided to have a party and, despite her best efforts, she was unable to refuse social time and was coerced into drinking. While people are capable of making good decisions, they often make bad ones that go against their own beliefs. She did not answer my im's or texts because she really didn't care what I have to say about anything in her life, I talk to her too much and she needs a break from my judgmental, emotional, self-serving whining (which this blog post certainly is). She wanted to have fun at a party and that's all that matters. It's been a while anyways. By now she has thrown up very many times, and has passed out on her bed.
So here I lay, wondering what happened. I am often so afraid that I did something to hurt our friendship, that we are anything less than best/2nd best friends. Is there anything I could have said? Anything she misconstrued, anything I did that put her off? I force these thoughts upon myself, usually in silence, but often resorting to gauging the friendship one way or another, which may itself hurt the friendship.
But why do I care so much whether she drinks or not? Every single one of my other friends drink anyways, what is one more? It is just me standing alone here, in my self-dug hole. I fight the good fight. Myself. It's difficult and lonely but I press on. Who is she to bring such distraught feelings to me? Or my roommate? Or his girlfriend?
Oh yeah, I know why. Because being alone sucks. Because we are sober buddies, best friends, I am emotionally attached probably more so than is healthy. Because I value her friendship to the point where I feel like I don't even deserve it. Because when every single one of your friends change their beliefs when the weight of college crushes them, it's nice (incredibly reassuring) to know that there's at least one other person who I can talk to about these things, because we're in the same boat as far as beliefs go. Because maybe I am not alone, and so maybe there's a glimmer of hope that I can get people to join this boat as well.
So here I lay, dealing with the same problem I've been dealing with for the last year and a half now, each time coming to a new "conclusion," only to wait until the next incident occurs. Although I should mention that, this actually is not as bad as I have felt about this before. When my roommate began drinking after living a life of hating the concept, I was far sickened and depressed, and I do not use that word lightly. But I pressed on from that horrible era, and I came to conclusions. I let him go. I detached myself.
It is now 5:16. I feel better now that I have written my feelings; this blog is indeed theraputic. I should write in it more often.
--
Also I have feelings for a girl I can probably never have. More on that later.
The pleasant experiences of the day were occasionally interfered with the Korean friend requesting beer. He is underage. I don't care much, but every time he spoke about it, it brought up some tension in me, some small sickening feeling in me. It reminds me that I can't let my guard down to my friends, because they will often disappoint if you do. I cannot expect any one of them to change, that is foolish. And drinking beer isn't a massive deal anyways, pretty small in the grand scheme of things. Nonetheless, the small sickening feeling remains.
But, today was indeed still fun. We went back, sang songs while I played my guitar, watched and played video games. However, I never met up with my neighbor, which was disappointing because I wanted to make a cake and maybe watch some TV shows. She is an extremely good friend. But alas, she is a busy lady with many friends of her own, so I should not be clingy.
This is unfortunately complicated because me and her are what we call "sober buddies." That is, we don't drink, at least we believe we should not. In practice however this is pretty difficult - we are in college and there are many temptations, especially for her since she is a very outgoing, sociable person. So it doesn't always work out the way it should, and I always get quite worried whenever it is a Friday/Saturday night and she's not online or won't respond. Clingy, but bad things have happened in the past. Still clingy.
Well it being a Saturday night there are their usual loud parties, in fact right now I hear a fire alarm that has been pulled. I heard loud people outside my door, so for funsies I went to go out there and yell "HEY!" loudly. But there were no people in the hall - it was coming from my neighbors apartment. A party right across from me, how very exciting! And of course I hear the shrill voice of my neighbor laughing and talking. So at that point I definitely assume she is quite drunk, or on the road to being so, then walk away with a considerably more powerful sickened feeling in the pit of my stomach. Also everything got colder. She was neither online nor responsive to my text of "Sober buddies!"
Best case scenario - she wasn't drunk at all, I'm worrying too much, she just was having fun with her roommates and some people they invited over. If this is the case, then I need to learn to let people be! They are capable of making good decisions, she is a smart and strong girl and she knows whats right and whats wrong. I am an overly clingy person who over thinks things that will work out for the best! Maybe it wasn't even her voice I heard, and she had just decided to go to sleep early. She didn't answer my text or im's because she had just forgot and was pretty tired.
Worst case scenario - she got stark raving drunk. Her roommates decided to have a party and, despite her best efforts, she was unable to refuse social time and was coerced into drinking. While people are capable of making good decisions, they often make bad ones that go against their own beliefs. She did not answer my im's or texts because she really didn't care what I have to say about anything in her life, I talk to her too much and she needs a break from my judgmental, emotional, self-serving whining (which this blog post certainly is). She wanted to have fun at a party and that's all that matters. It's been a while anyways. By now she has thrown up very many times, and has passed out on her bed.
So here I lay, wondering what happened. I am often so afraid that I did something to hurt our friendship, that we are anything less than best/2nd best friends. Is there anything I could have said? Anything she misconstrued, anything I did that put her off? I force these thoughts upon myself, usually in silence, but often resorting to gauging the friendship one way or another, which may itself hurt the friendship.
But why do I care so much whether she drinks or not? Every single one of my other friends drink anyways, what is one more? It is just me standing alone here, in my self-dug hole. I fight the good fight. Myself. It's difficult and lonely but I press on. Who is she to bring such distraught feelings to me? Or my roommate? Or his girlfriend?
Oh yeah, I know why. Because being alone sucks. Because we are sober buddies, best friends, I am emotionally attached probably more so than is healthy. Because I value her friendship to the point where I feel like I don't even deserve it. Because when every single one of your friends change their beliefs when the weight of college crushes them, it's nice (incredibly reassuring) to know that there's at least one other person who I can talk to about these things, because we're in the same boat as far as beliefs go. Because maybe I am not alone, and so maybe there's a glimmer of hope that I can get people to join this boat as well.
So here I lay, dealing with the same problem I've been dealing with for the last year and a half now, each time coming to a new "conclusion," only to wait until the next incident occurs. Although I should mention that, this actually is not as bad as I have felt about this before. When my roommate began drinking after living a life of hating the concept, I was far sickened and depressed, and I do not use that word lightly. But I pressed on from that horrible era, and I came to conclusions. I let him go. I detached myself.
It is now 5:16. I feel better now that I have written my feelings; this blog is indeed theraputic. I should write in it more often.
--
Also I have feelings for a girl I can probably never have. More on that later.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
¿Puedes entenderlo?
Mucho ha pasado hoy. Después de estar poco deprimida, aunque no podría describirlo antes de que mi madre me dijó la verdad. Y ahora, estoy más calma. Tengo una perspectiva muy diferente. Antes, estaba pensado mucho en mi relación con Joe, y como ha convertido en una relación muy diferente sin feliz y emoción. Pero, ahora entiendo que eso occurió porque tengo miedo. No quiero ni saber el tipo de relación que quiero. Es un lugar dónde necesito crecer. Sé que quiero más, algo diferente, pero no sé como, ni si puedo sin cambiarme. Pero, es un viaje que tengo que tomar. Es algo cada persona endura en su propia vida.
Y, si sea la verdad de que no estamos bueno junto como novios, no es malo. Es algo que ocurre. Y nadie tiene la culpa. Pero cosas cambia y por eso quiero tratar una más vez con él. Porque me gusta él. Aunque no sé el extento de esa emoción. Sin embargo, el extento puede crecer o morir en tiempo. No sé, nadie sabe. Y puedo tener relaciónes con otros chicos como amigos. Y si sienta algo, puedo tratar algo diferente. Pero, ahora me gustaría disfrutar la atención de los hombres, y de mi novio, cuando lo tengo. Nada existe por siempre.
También entiendo que cuando hizo algo, siempre estoy pensando en como me parece a otros. No quiero ser un decepción. Y ¿por qué? Porque, cuando era niña nunca siento que estoy bastante. Siempre pienso que tengo que hacer más y más para tener el amor. Es algo que, si mi amiga me diga yo diré que es incorecto. No tengo que ser lo mejor para ser amada. Sin embargo yo sé que cada de mis aciónes y decisiónes resulta de esta sentimiento. Y quiero cambiarlo. No es bueno por yo ni otros. Siempre estoy pensando en mis errores y los errores de otros, aunque les trato mejor que yo con respeto al extento que analizo.
Quiero tener una vida diferente. Quiero tener un novio que me parece guapo. Que puede comunicar conmigo sobre todo. Que tiene sus propios ideas. Que es, sobre todo, simpático y genio. Alguien que puedo ser enamorada. No sé si Joe es alguien que tiene estas cosas, ni si sería bastante en el futuro. Pero, quiero tratar de encontrar la contesta. Sé que nosotros no somos destinado a ser juntos por siempre. Solomente es la empieza de mis experiencias. Pero estoy alegre de que él es mi primer novio sincero. Con él puede ser yo, aunque la mayoría del tiempo no lo permito. Mi descripción de un novio falta mucho a causa de que no sé que es una relación por yo. Pero después de tiempo, esta descripción va a ser más y más larga y definada. Y, cuando tengo ochenta años, sería la descripción de mi unico amor. Pues, es muy lejos, y tengo que hacer mucho para llegar allí. Sin embargo, no puedo olvidar que, el fin no es bastante importante como el viaje.
Todas mis ideas son complicadas y no tengo bastante vocabulario en español pero, estoy tratando de mejorar mi español. Y me gusta hacer algo diferente. Por eso, ya ha escrito este. No sé si todos van a entenderme…
Y, porque no quiero que te confudas con la palabra ´decepción´ no es ¨deception¨ es ¨disappointed¨
Yo sé que es algo raro. No sabía la palabra y lo he encontrado por internet. Y por eso, tiene que ser corecto. :P hehe
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I did it did it did it (true story)
To all of you who dared me to talk to sexy trainer, well, time to hand over the money!!!! hehe yes, you all know where i'm going with this.
Anyway, I wasn't expecting to see him at the gym at all, since he works in the mornings. And today, my parents wanted to go to LA in the early day time. So I was going through the day, all depressed because yesterday was the last day I (would have) saw/seen him, and was expecting to go to the gym at 6ish, after dinner. But then the electricity went out, and NOTHING worked. Unless I planned to blind myself by reading in the fading light of the already cloudy day, it was probably a bad choice to do just that. So, my mom recommended the gym. And since i was gonna go later in the day anyway, i sighed and went.
I get there, and as usual there's old people. and 20% people under the age of 30. But whatever, it's fine, since i'm there to exercise and get into shape. Then 30 min into the workout, BAM. He walks in.
Nope, not the trainer. But, someone who is clearly taller, nice-face-r, and has more of the tall, dark and handsome going for him. God, I could not stop staring at him. He was, i dunno, latino mixed with some european?!?!? But he was hot. And his muscles were almost as nice as the trainer's. But not nearly as prominent enough. Anyway, as I was drooling over Mr.Sexy#2, my eyes of their own accord, decides to switch to the entryway. Aaaaand who was standing there, carrying his white sports bag, casually lounging talking to a manager, his body so perfect and delicious....but my beautiful trainer. i almost started praying to the god that doesn't exist.
So during this entire time, i'm trying really hard to fight back the HUGE and i mean HUGE grin that's threatening to swallow my face. and failing. i keep giggling into my towel, and peeking at him. i hope the elliptical people thought i was giggling at whatever i was listening to on the iPod, and not because i was blessed by lady luck, and a case of the crazies (i'm permanently affected, btw)...
So i'm still on the elliptical, wondering where the hell my luck came from, and still pedaling (albeit a bit slowly, since all the blood was going to my brain), when my eyes switch to focus on a middle point between the new guy on the weight pully thing and the trainer in the entryway, talking to an old man. Gah. My head almost exploded with all the hotdamnsexy testosterone that was floating all over the place, and into my nostrils.
Then, the lights went out. well, not on purpose of course (though i wish at that moment, trainerman was standing next to me. then i would've shown him what pleasure truly issssss: a lick of his perfect biceps.-i never said it was for his pleasure). the steady pouring of rain has ruined more than my house's connection with the electric, light-filled world. anyway, there was no outcry, and the people on the ellipticals just chuckled and kept on going. then in 4 seconds, the lights came back on and our eyes met for a brief second. he was so gorgeous, standing there in his manly yet relaxed posture, looking amused. *sigh*
so then, he sits in the little office/cave/group desks thing, and takes out a magazine to read. at this point, i'm thinking i need to talk to him today. but wait, i can't! it's too embarassing. and then i thought of the perfect plan. i will write him a little note to express my emotions and give me closure. and upon thinking up that scheme, i proceeded to feel a billion butterflies in my stomach threatening to fly out. ah, the nervousness! then i hoped that he would start walking around and not sit in that office thingy, so that a bunch of other employees would not witness my embarassment.
i went into the locker room and then showered, all the while thinking of what i was going to write. and then i got it! after putting on clothes (lolz) i sat down and my hand flew like the thoughts in my brain. The final masterpiece:
"To Workout God,
Thank you for being eyecandy in the past couple of workouts. I'm going back to college, so in case I never have a chance later to say this, you have the sexiest smile I have ever seen =)
-L"
After folding it threeways (after checking it for grammatical errors fiftymillion times) I put it in a little yellow money envelope thing (it looks classier inside an envelope than just a white piece of paper, and that was the only envelope inside my bag). Then, grabbing all my shit, I left the locker room and searched for him. He was with a trainee in the weight room. Just for a few seconds, i turned towards the door, hoping i'd come to my senses and run away, as fast as i could. But then i said (in my mind, not out loud, thank god) "Fuck it, i'm not gonna see him for a longg ass time. or any of these gym rats. FUCK IT" and then walked inside. since he was training someone, his back was turned towards me, and i don't think he saw me walk up to him. So i gently placed my hand on his right bicep (which was fucking sexy, all hard and smooth and gorgeous and HARD, gah) and said "excuse me?" He sorta turned, and i continued "this is for you" and gave him the envelope. After a brief like, 1 mili-second pause, he said "thank you." and took it. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEe. his trainee was staring at me. and probably the rest of the fucking gym. but i gracefully and quickly left.
And after sitting in my car, i screamed 30393848 times and laughed twice that much.
It was the most exhilirating thing ever.
He definitely, probably read it. I wonder what the look on his face was.
If only i could have seen that sexy grin!!!!
But thank you god, buddha, allah, lady luck, or whoever made this day the best day ever!!!!
<3 <3 <3
Anyway, I wasn't expecting to see him at the gym at all, since he works in the mornings. And today, my parents wanted to go to LA in the early day time. So I was going through the day, all depressed because yesterday was the last day I (would have) saw/seen him, and was expecting to go to the gym at 6ish, after dinner. But then the electricity went out, and NOTHING worked. Unless I planned to blind myself by reading in the fading light of the already cloudy day, it was probably a bad choice to do just that. So, my mom recommended the gym. And since i was gonna go later in the day anyway, i sighed and went.
I get there, and as usual there's old people. and 20% people under the age of 30. But whatever, it's fine, since i'm there to exercise and get into shape. Then 30 min into the workout, BAM. He walks in.
Nope, not the trainer. But, someone who is clearly taller, nice-face-r, and has more of the tall, dark and handsome going for him. God, I could not stop staring at him. He was, i dunno, latino mixed with some european?!?!? But he was hot. And his muscles were almost as nice as the trainer's. But not nearly as prominent enough. Anyway, as I was drooling over Mr.Sexy#2, my eyes of their own accord, decides to switch to the entryway. Aaaaand who was standing there, carrying his white sports bag, casually lounging talking to a manager, his body so perfect and delicious....but my beautiful trainer. i almost started praying to the god that doesn't exist.
So during this entire time, i'm trying really hard to fight back the HUGE and i mean HUGE grin that's threatening to swallow my face. and failing. i keep giggling into my towel, and peeking at him. i hope the elliptical people thought i was giggling at whatever i was listening to on the iPod, and not because i was blessed by lady luck, and a case of the crazies (i'm permanently affected, btw)...
So i'm still on the elliptical, wondering where the hell my luck came from, and still pedaling (albeit a bit slowly, since all the blood was going to my brain), when my eyes switch to focus on a middle point between the new guy on the weight pully thing and the trainer in the entryway, talking to an old man. Gah. My head almost exploded with all the hotdamnsexy testosterone that was floating all over the place, and into my nostrils.
Then, the lights went out. well, not on purpose of course (though i wish at that moment, trainerman was standing next to me. then i would've shown him what pleasure truly issssss: a lick of his perfect biceps.-i never said it was for his pleasure). the steady pouring of rain has ruined more than my house's connection with the electric, light-filled world. anyway, there was no outcry, and the people on the ellipticals just chuckled and kept on going. then in 4 seconds, the lights came back on and our eyes met for a brief second. he was so gorgeous, standing there in his manly yet relaxed posture, looking amused. *sigh*
so then, he sits in the little office/cave/group desks thing, and takes out a magazine to read. at this point, i'm thinking i need to talk to him today. but wait, i can't! it's too embarassing. and then i thought of the perfect plan. i will write him a little note to express my emotions and give me closure. and upon thinking up that scheme, i proceeded to feel a billion butterflies in my stomach threatening to fly out. ah, the nervousness! then i hoped that he would start walking around and not sit in that office thingy, so that a bunch of other employees would not witness my embarassment.
i went into the locker room and then showered, all the while thinking of what i was going to write. and then i got it! after putting on clothes (lolz) i sat down and my hand flew like the thoughts in my brain. The final masterpiece:
"To Workout God,
Thank you for being eyecandy in the past couple of workouts. I'm going back to college, so in case I never have a chance later to say this, you have the sexiest smile I have ever seen =)
-L"
After folding it threeways (after checking it for grammatical errors fiftymillion times) I put it in a little yellow money envelope thing (it looks classier inside an envelope than just a white piece of paper, and that was the only envelope inside my bag). Then, grabbing all my shit, I left the locker room and searched for him. He was with a trainee in the weight room. Just for a few seconds, i turned towards the door, hoping i'd come to my senses and run away, as fast as i could. But then i said (in my mind, not out loud, thank god) "Fuck it, i'm not gonna see him for a longg ass time. or any of these gym rats. FUCK IT" and then walked inside. since he was training someone, his back was turned towards me, and i don't think he saw me walk up to him. So i gently placed my hand on his right bicep (which was fucking sexy, all hard and smooth and gorgeous and HARD, gah) and said "excuse me?" He sorta turned, and i continued "this is for you" and gave him the envelope. After a brief like, 1 mili-second pause, he said "thank you." and took it. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEe. his trainee was staring at me. and probably the rest of the fucking gym. but i gracefully and quickly left.
And after sitting in my car, i screamed 30393848 times and laughed twice that much.
It was the most exhilirating thing ever.
He definitely, probably read it. I wonder what the look on his face was.
If only i could have seen that sexy grin!!!!
But thank you god, buddha, allah, lady luck, or whoever made this day the best day ever!!!!
<3 <3 <3
Friday, January 15, 2010
Training for Love
Everyday you see him there, working out. Those muscles twitching and jumping underneath that dark skin. You imagine feeling them, your hand gently gripping his arm, feeling the tension come and go as he lifts those weights. When you feel them jump you glance up at his face as he uses his momentum to raise the weights above his head..
crash
Looking down you realized you dropped your water bottle. Immediately you bend down and pick it up, hoping you didn’t make a mess. Although it’s water, you feel the need to clean it up, but just as you manage to put the bottle cap back on, you see two sneakers appear in front of you. Looking up, you see him. Or rather, you see those muscles, that body, that face, those eyes, and then him overall. The workout god.
“Are you okay?” he asks, grabbing a towel from behind one of the nearby countertops, the one where you can sign up for this or that promotion.
“Ah- Yes, I guess I just zoned out for a second. haha.” You say it teasingly, as if this type of thing happens every once in the while and is nothing to worry about. But inside your stomach does contortionist twists as your embarrassment rises. You watch as he dabs the ground with the towel, cleaning up the small mess. You debate helping him, but the mess is pretty much taken care of, and you can’t help but think. ‘What would he think if I told him I dropped my bottle because i was fantasizing about his arms?’ The mere thought makes your stomach do two more somersaults.
“Well, I have to get going.” He stands up, folding the towel up. ” My name’s Daniel if you didn’t know,” He smiles, another somersault.
“My name’s Lucy. Thanks for helping me out.” You chuckle with excitement and anxiety. This moment shall go down in history as the day the workout god spoke. You try and give him your best smile, holding the bottle in your hands.
“That’s a nice name, and I’m glad to see more people be more invested in their health. I see you come here almost everyday. Must have a boyfriend or someone you are trying to impress huh?” At this point your stomach is done doing somersaults and is downright spewing butterflies. Number one, he realized you existed! And number two, he wants to know if I have a romantic interest!! Even if its merely conversational, this day is not just going down in history, it shall forever be etched into your brain.
“Oh, no. No boyfriend or anything. Just trying to get in shape.”
“Well, that’s always a good idea. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask me.” You watch as he places the towel behind the desk and walk away. He really is a God. Sighing, you put your bottle on the ground and jump onto the treadmill.
—
Afterwards you headed into town to meet some friends for a light lunch and, as always, walk around Farnes and Boble. The day speeds by, and sooner than you know it’s time to go home. You say your goodbyes and hop into you car. Thinking to yourself, you wonder how it is that neither of your parents have tried to get a hold of you. It’s fairly late, yet no calls. Deciding to see if your phone died on you, you search your purse. Keys, paper, cheese, ….and keys. Your phone! It’s gone!! You quickly search your mind for the last time you used it.
At the gym. That was the last time you used it! When your mother called you to tell you to be home before 6. The locker! You must’ve left it in the locker on accident when you didn’t put it back into the purse but rather to the side of it. You debate rushing home and dealing with the problem tomorrow, but what if someone tried to get a hold of you? Perhaps a cute boy? Maybe an old friend? You NEED that phone! Plus, what if they clean out the lockers at night? Or if someone took it?!
Putting your car into drive, you speed onto the freeway. The gym shouldn’t be closed just yet. But lately they have been closing earlier because they have people coming in to inspect the gym. Or something. Pulling up you see lights on and one truck parked in the parking lot. Thank God! It’s probably the janitor! If you ask him nicely if he has seen a black cell phone in the lockers he will give it to you. You park your car and turn the headlights off and the song that was playing dies out abruptly.
Running up to the glass doors, you peer in, trying to see if you can see the janitor, when all of a sudden, the door moves forward, opening.
‘It’s unlocked?’ you think to yourself as you push it farther open and slowly step inside. Speaking loudly, you ask, “Is anyone here? I left my cell phone in the locker…”
No answer. Well, if the doors are open, maybe they aren’t closed? Maybe it’s just a really really slow night? You decide to just run to the lockers and grab your cellphone and get the heck out of there. Standing at the lockers, they seem more numerous when they are all vacant. It was the third row up…or was it the second? Opening the doors, one by one, you have no luck. You reach up to the fifth row of lockers, opening the door about an inch when all of a sudden it slams shut, sending a shockingly loud sound all throughout the gym.
You see a large hand on the locker door, you follow it to the arm, to the shoulder, to the face…to the workout god.
“What are you doing?” he asks, almost in an angry tone. He looks down at you, not moving from his stance, his hand forcing the locker shut.
Looking at him from over your shoulder, and a little taken aback you answer quickly, “I left my cell phone here and I came to look for it. The door was open!” You furrow your brow, not liking how demanding and violent he is acting.
“What’d it look like?” He asks again, his hand slowly relaxing against the locker.
“It’s a black motorola flip phone.” You suddenly become aware that his hand had slipped from the upper locker down to right by your face. Suddenly, almost like ice, he touches you and it shocks you. Unexpected yet not un-welcomed.
“Hmm….” He rubs his hand along your cheek and cups your chin. It rests there for a second until he pulls it up, raising your face so that you are forced to look at him. “Is it maybe this one?” With his other hand he pulls it out of one of his pockets, holding it just out of reach, almost tauntingly.
“Y-yes. Thank you.” You hold your hand out, thinking that he’d drop it into your hand. But he doesn’t.
“Thank you? I didn’t say I’d give it back to you. I was thinking of getting a new phone.” His hand drops as he walks two steps away and looks back, his head tilted down and making him look even cuter. But not cute enough to forgive stealing a pone you think.
“Bu-” He cuts you off, he faces away again, but you can tell he is pressing your phone to his lips as he contemplates, looking at the ceiling, “I’ll give it to you, on a condition…”
“What?”
“That.” He walks toward you again, “You” He pokes your collarbone with your phone, giving you shivers. “Keep me company here at the gym until we close.” He looks at you and grins, “It gets lonely here after hours, but I can’t leave until our original scheduled closing time.” He traces your collarbone with the phone, taunting and entrancing you. “Will you?”
—– END PREVIEW—-
You are in shock. In all your dreams this would never have happened. Your grip on your purse slips and it falls to the floor. He chuckles and picks it up, “Always dropping things when you look at me, eh?”
A wave of warmth spreads over you as you turn red, he noticed! He knew that you’d been ogling him. You try to regain your confidence. In all your fantasies you do not let the man have the upper hand like this, thinking on your feet you grin and look up at him, meeting his gaze. “If you know that, you’ve been looking at me just as much.” He laughs and answers with a quick ‘yep.’
That’s right, you have as much to offer, you can’t let him just play the game without having some fun with it as well. I mean, parents can wait, this is something that never should have been!
You walk over to him, grab your purse and walk over to the counter, setting it down you look down at it, then to him. “Is that the only way that i can get my phone back?” You ask, almost in a bored tone. Acting like you don’t want to, see how far he will go.
“Correct. Or Bench 200 lbs.” He plays with your phone. “Looks like someone has quiet a few missed calls…”
‘Crap!’ you think, ‘My parents!!’ You are torn between getting home and getting some. “Fine.” You find yourself saying, but quickly you add, “but, I have to make a call.”
“Haha, I’m not that stupid.” He once again comes within inches of you, holding the phone with his index and thumb fingers he shakes it back and forth, “You don’t get this until later.” He slides it into his shorts and looks up at you again. Again with that baby face, that upward look that catches your breath! He knows what he’s doing…
“What shall we do?” he asks, running his hand along you arm, up and down, his gaze transfixed on your eyes. Trying to be smart with him, you answer, “Keep each other company until I can have my phone back?” A shadow seems to cross his face but quickly vanishes and is replaced with a devlish grin. “I have an idea.”
“What is that?” He doesn’t answer but rather has you follow him to the mats to the side where people do push-ups, crunches, and sit ups.
“As a personal trainer I know how to help people work out, and so I’m going to help you in the time being.” You are confused. This is what he meant by keeping each other company? Well, just being by this workout god was enough. PLus, it’s one thing to admire a god, it’s another to physically deal with one. One needs preparatory time in that case! For instance, a hot wardrobe, nice hair, sexy lipgloss. All of that! But no, you were just expecting to head home and eat delicious food so you are wearing your same workout clothes. A regular t-shirt and some workout pants, black ones.
“Okay….so?” You ask standing next to him as he kneels down.
“So? Get over here, we are going to start with some warm up crunches.” He claps his hands together, which you notice seems to be the way trainers try to pep up their clients before a long workout. You go over to the side of where he is and lay down, bending your knees and putting your arms behind your head, but before you can start he stops you with an “Ah- ah-”
“This, is not the right way to do a crunch…” He puts his hands on each of your feet. “First off, your legs are way too close together, you can’t do a good crunch this way” He pushes them apart slightly then more so so that they are at least 2 feet apart from each other. You wonder if this is true, you haven’t ever seen anyone else do a crunch this way, but you decide not to protest, you want to see what he has in mind.
“And this,” he slides his hands along your thighs and up under your shirt, “cannot be so low, we must be able to see the area that we are working on.” He pulls ur shirt up, but at this you protest. No one should see that!! If you don’t like it, then he shouldn’t see it.
“Protesting? Who is the trainer here?” He forces your shirt up slightly and tells you to lie back down. “Now i want ten crunches.” You feel embarassed, but want to get this over as soon as possible, so you start.
1, 2, 3, 4- You stop as you are in the middle of your fourth crunch, you see him leaning over you, and become a little worried. That would be way too fast! But instead of jumping on top of you, he begins kissing your stomach, causing you to flinch.
Looking up at you he asks, “Did i tell you to stop? Or can you not count? You are only on 4.” You continue again.
5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Everytime he kisses you more and more, by the end moving to your sides. “I did ten.” You say, breaking the silence.
“Mmm…” He sits up, and looks up again, thinking. You look again at those abs, so large and prominent. So sexy. He leans over you again, “I like this position though.” He says as he buries his face in you chest, rubbing your sides and your stomach. One hand slides down your side, down to your thigh, your knee where he pulls at you, pulling your leg up. “We can do some leg lifts from here….” He kisses your stomach again, or we could, flip the situation.” He says as he grabs you and rolls over so that you are on top of him.
“I don’t think this fits under the category of keeping you company…” You taunt. You sit upright sort of straddling his stomach. You left your hands feel him, touch him, get to know him like you imagined. You decide you will take advantage of this situation. “Mmm, you seem to be hot.” You rub his forehead with the back of your hand, “At times like this, its best to remove an article of clothing…”
He looks up at you, a little taken aback. Perhaps because he was not expecting that from you, or maybe not knowing what you had in mind, either way, his face shows all. He is confused. However, it fades quickly as that devilish grin returns. “Which one do you suggest?”
You debate the pros and cons of your decision. Work out pants? No, that’d be too far, make him think you really wanted him. Not that you don’t, but not just yet. His shirt? That would be fulfilling a dream of yours. You’d be able to see if he’s hiding any more tattoos and you’d be able to see what you only just felt briefly. Okay, decision made. With a smirk and a quick lick of your lips you run your hands down his sides, mimicking what he did earlier. Then you tug at his shirt, only he does not resist, he has no reason to. He, of course, is aware of the status he holds as workout god.
You roll it further up, slowly admiring him, and finally, deciding to tease him further, testing his boundaries. You pull it up over his head so that just his arms are still in the shirt, keeping him in a position you quite relish. “Now, I don’t know if this is helping cool me down…” Your concentration is broken as he speaks. You just look down at him. “Nope, its not working for me.” With that he sits up, and in doing so throws his arms over you, still connected by his own shirt so that you are stuck almost hugging him. He hugs you tightly, then lets his hands wander, feeling your back, your own muscles, and just you.
“I disagree, I think it’s very helpful…” His hands make it under your shirt once more. You let your own hands rub his back, which is not as lean and smooth as it appears underneath a shirt. Instead it is more rough, soft, yet hard, and you die with so many sensations running through your mind. If you were having internal somersaults before, now you must be orbiting in space. You just don’t know what to make of the situation.
“Can I?” He asks, stopping his hands on the back of your bra. You look up at him, you aren’t sure yourself. You look at him, and nod. Unable to form the words, his ravishing affection takes your breath away. Just as his hands unlock the bra in seconds, you hear a sound. A distant one, but it seems to be getting louder. You realize he has stopped too, his hands frozen in place.
“Daniel? Dude, are you still here? Didn’t you close this place hours ago? HR is soo going to be pissed with you.” It’s a guy’s voice, and you can tell it’s getting closer. Quickly, you two stand up, you fix your bra and pat down your hair. He pulls his shirt on with lightning speed and wipes his face and hair down smoothly as he walks to the door.
“What is it man?” You hear the two converse together. Moment lost. You sigh to yourself and decide to go to the bathroom and make sure you don’t look like anything happened; wouldn’t would the parents to suspect anything.
“I don’t look too bad…” You say as you fix your hair and wash your face, trying to take away the perpetual blush that stained your cheeks.
“I don’t think you could ever look bad…” he says as he kisses the back of your head, you know it’s him by his reflection in the mirror. He’s still hot, you think. He moves your hair out of the way and kisses your neck. “Forgive the intrusion, that boy doesn’t know how to mind his business…”
“Well, it’s for the best.” You say, even though you don’t mean it. You just are upset at how easily he gets back to what he was doing. Plus, the mood was lost when he left you so suddenly. “I need my phone back.”
“Mmm, here it is.” He says as he kisses your neck. You grab it and try to resist the urge to throw it on the floor and turn around. But as you hesitate, you feel him leave you. “I have to get going. He’s right, I have to shut this place down now.”
He looks at you and grins that same grin, “But, we are open 7 days a week, 12 hours a day….” He kisses you on the mouth, gently, “…for your workout convenience.”
You feel your phone vibrate, someone’s calling you. He walks you out of the building and to your car. Once he is sure you are seatbelt-ed in and safe, he taps the top of the car with his hand, and adds, quickly, “Oh, and I’m going to be your personal trainer from now on, no fee.”
“I’ll be back,” you wink as you say this and turn your car on, the familiar engine sounds bringing you back to reality. 47 missed calls, 3 hours past curfew, and a few extra miles on the car are nothing in comparison to having the workout god all to yourself.
Starting today, you really will enjoy getting a workout.
Writing first-person sexy is difficult
"...and then he told me I was being a bitch for not having enough sex!" "What?! What a prick!" "I know, right?" Two women on the elliptical machines. Two complainers. Two stupid bimbos. I roll my eyes as they continue their inane conversation, and turn up the volume on my iPod and the volume of Jason DeRulo's voice. I look at the timer on the machine. Only 21:20 min so far, 40 min to go before I can get off the machine.
A movement to the right catches my eye. As my head automatically swivels to the entryway of the weightroom, my eyes adjust to the tall, lean muscular body of the trainer, as he walks through, leading his trainee to the lifting machine. The red tee of the fitness center fits him beautifully, like it was poured over his shoulders. The muscles in his arms slightly bulge from adjusting the weights before motioning the old man to sit in the seat. His eyes quickly roam over the people in the room, and before I knew it, his eyes bore into mine, the dark eyebrows set over dark piercing eyes, the latter of which looked like molten steel. I quickly lower mine, whether in lust or fear I do not know, but my heart is pumping (and it's not just the running...).
He takes his trainee to the stretching area, and teaches him how to use a pilates ball for situps and such. A horrible screamo song comes on the iPod and I quickly scan through my song list, and pick another one. As my eyes come up again, my ears no longer bleeding, I see him coming out of the "employees only" room, holding a casual shirt and sweat shorts.
Yes, my mind whispers, he's going to workout. And you know what that means: a walking, talking, breathing orgasm... I grin to myself.
A few moments later, after he comes out of the men's locker room, his body loosely covered with a sleeveless gray shirt and his classic dark blue sweat shorts, the two women begin to twitter even more loudly, like they are trying to get his attention. well, at least they're doing something right... He walks towards the ellipticals, his arms beautifully tanned, his legs muscly but not bulging... I sigh to myself. As he walks past, I look away from him, but I sense his brief gaze upon my sweating, albeit-still-smelling-good-with-a-little-perfume body. He enters the weight room, and upon entering, greets about a million of his weight-lifting friends, all of whom have a 20 pound extra dose of testosterone. They're all so manly, but only he, the bright, beautiful Adonis, stands out as the sexiest man.
20 min left. I switch directions and begin to walk backwards. An old-ish man walks out of the weightroom towards the fountain, and stares at me. Uncomfortable, I look away from him, just in time to land my eyes on Trainer. As luck would have it, his eyes meet mine, and this time, he looks away. He walks past me, his body hard and his posture confident, and one of the women initiates conversation. Apparently she was a past trainee? I don't pay attention to them, blah blah blah, and eventually, he goes back into the weightroom. I finish on the ellipticals and do some weight machines. As I walk to the women's locker room, I pass the entrance to the weightroom, and glance inside. He's doing the bench press, and as I glance at his muscles, my eyes accidently slip to his face as he sits up. Our eyes meet in the mirror. Flushing slightly, I walk into the locker room.
It's a comfy shower. Hot, steamy, and definitely good for the muscles. I dress and put on some foundation. There. Presentable. After adding some perfume behind the ears, I grab my bags and take a deep breath as I walk out. After glancing left and right, I still don't see him, but earn the curious gazes of a few people working their biceps. As I sort of depressingly say "bye" to the receptionist and exit the center, I see him a couple hundred feet in front of me, carrying his bag, ready to leave for the day. Automatically my heartrate speeds up. My boots click on the sidewalk, and he glances back as I debate with myself on whether I should open my mouth.
Ah, screw it. I only have a few days left anyway! He turns back forward and continues walking.
"Um, excuse me?" He stops, and turns around, his gaze inquiring, and not unfriendly. "Yeah?" He's turned sideways, but as I walk to catch up with him, he turns more towards me. Since he's a few inches taller than me, I have to slightly look up, but it's worth it. The nicely muscly, arched shape of his neck, the slightly glistening skin, and the smell of his cologne is definitely worth the anxiety. His lips turn up slightly in amusement as his hand reaches out, and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. I sort of shrink in surprise, but the heat of his finger as it grazes my ear gave me goosebumps of a different variety. "I've been watching you, you know..." His deep voice rumbles across the couple of feet to my ears. "Everyday, you come to the gym, exercise in the same pattern. Is there something you need to ask a trainer, finally?"
Before I could stop the train of thought, the words tripped out of my mouth. "Can I feel your muscles?"
A moment of silence ensues. I look away, pressing my hand to my mouth, as I move to walk past him. "Um...sorry." My face is red and I'm about to die of embarassment, but a big hand comes out and grabs my wrist. I look back at him, biting my lower lip. We don't move. At that very moment, a couple comes out of the fitness center, and before they could see us, he presses me against an inset in the plaster wall, the index finger of his other hand against my lips. They leave. "Sorry about that. It's just that I'd be in trouble with the center if I were found to be.... fraternizing with our clients." "But, we were just talking," I mutter. His eyes travel the length of my face and stops at my lips. "We were, weren't we?" Before I could utter a single sound, he lowers his head and touches his lips to mine. Distantly, I recall him dropping his bags and removing mine from my arms, but not quite sure when or how.... his lips are so soft. He kisses his way from my jaw to my ear. "You smell... delicious." At that moment, I pull away, a virgin's fears finally settling in. "Wait, wait. I-we can't." I roughly brush my mouth with the back of my hand, and glance at him warily. That damned grin flashes across his face again. "What is it that you asked again?" My eyes nervously flicker. "Uh, I didn't think we could move this fast... I actually just wanted to talk." He tilts his head. "You wanted to talk... so you asked if you could feel my muscles?" I chuckle hesitantly. "Stupid now that you say it, isn't it?" His cologne, goddamnit. I can't think. So much for an ivy league education when your mind doesn't even work. He lowers his head again, but I duck. He sighs. In between one breath and the next, he tugs on his shirt and lifts it over his head, exposing his tanned and hardened body. "So, which muscle did you want to feel?" He takes my hand and places it on his left pec. My fingers glide over the smooth yet rough skin, and my thumb softly smooths over his nipple. I suck in a breath at the same time his body tightens. My hand, by itself now, runs over his abs, tracing each line of muscle, up to his chest, and arm, the bands of muscle flexing as his gaze remains on the spot right behind my left ear. "I was thinking, this one," I said, leaning over and touching my lips to his right bicep, right where the tattoo of the clasped hands was inked. As I lifted my head, my tongue peeked out and wets my lips, tasting the slightly salty flavor of his skin. "Thanks for being so... accomodating." I pick up my bags from the ground, give him a parting grin, and stride towards my car. "Wait," he demands, "where are you going? We're not going to get coffee?" He quickly puts on his shirt and follows me. His large, warm palm lands on my shoulder. I sigh softly, closing my eyes and mind against the temptation of spending more time with Mr.Sexy. Right when I open my mouth, about to accept his ridiculous proposal, a "Reyes! A lady here wants training sessions!" is shouted from the door of the center. I close my eyes, exhaling a relieved sigh. His eyes turn back to me, troubled, and his mouth curved in a cute frown. "When will I-" "Reyes!" His brow furrows as he shouts back "I heard you the first time!" Taking advantage of the distraction, I move to quickly open my car door, sit inside, and close the door before he consciously noticed. Putting the car in reverse, I roll down the window.
"Six months, Reyes. See you then."
A movement to the right catches my eye. As my head automatically swivels to the entryway of the weightroom, my eyes adjust to the tall, lean muscular body of the trainer, as he walks through, leading his trainee to the lifting machine. The red tee of the fitness center fits him beautifully, like it was poured over his shoulders. The muscles in his arms slightly bulge from adjusting the weights before motioning the old man to sit in the seat. His eyes quickly roam over the people in the room, and before I knew it, his eyes bore into mine, the dark eyebrows set over dark piercing eyes, the latter of which looked like molten steel. I quickly lower mine, whether in lust or fear I do not know, but my heart is pumping (and it's not just the running...).
He takes his trainee to the stretching area, and teaches him how to use a pilates ball for situps and such. A horrible screamo song comes on the iPod and I quickly scan through my song list, and pick another one. As my eyes come up again, my ears no longer bleeding, I see him coming out of the "employees only" room, holding a casual shirt and sweat shorts.
Yes, my mind whispers, he's going to workout. And you know what that means: a walking, talking, breathing orgasm... I grin to myself.
A few moments later, after he comes out of the men's locker room, his body loosely covered with a sleeveless gray shirt and his classic dark blue sweat shorts, the two women begin to twitter even more loudly, like they are trying to get his attention. well, at least they're doing something right... He walks towards the ellipticals, his arms beautifully tanned, his legs muscly but not bulging... I sigh to myself. As he walks past, I look away from him, but I sense his brief gaze upon my sweating, albeit-still-smelling-good-with-a-little-perfume body. He enters the weight room, and upon entering, greets about a million of his weight-lifting friends, all of whom have a 20 pound extra dose of testosterone. They're all so manly, but only he, the bright, beautiful Adonis, stands out as the sexiest man.
20 min left. I switch directions and begin to walk backwards. An old-ish man walks out of the weightroom towards the fountain, and stares at me. Uncomfortable, I look away from him, just in time to land my eyes on Trainer. As luck would have it, his eyes meet mine, and this time, he looks away. He walks past me, his body hard and his posture confident, and one of the women initiates conversation. Apparently she was a past trainee? I don't pay attention to them, blah blah blah, and eventually, he goes back into the weightroom. I finish on the ellipticals and do some weight machines. As I walk to the women's locker room, I pass the entrance to the weightroom, and glance inside. He's doing the bench press, and as I glance at his muscles, my eyes accidently slip to his face as he sits up. Our eyes meet in the mirror. Flushing slightly, I walk into the locker room.
It's a comfy shower. Hot, steamy, and definitely good for the muscles. I dress and put on some foundation. There. Presentable. After adding some perfume behind the ears, I grab my bags and take a deep breath as I walk out. After glancing left and right, I still don't see him, but earn the curious gazes of a few people working their biceps. As I sort of depressingly say "bye" to the receptionist and exit the center, I see him a couple hundred feet in front of me, carrying his bag, ready to leave for the day. Automatically my heartrate speeds up. My boots click on the sidewalk, and he glances back as I debate with myself on whether I should open my mouth.
Ah, screw it. I only have a few days left anyway! He turns back forward and continues walking.
"Um, excuse me?" He stops, and turns around, his gaze inquiring, and not unfriendly. "Yeah?" He's turned sideways, but as I walk to catch up with him, he turns more towards me. Since he's a few inches taller than me, I have to slightly look up, but it's worth it. The nicely muscly, arched shape of his neck, the slightly glistening skin, and the smell of his cologne is definitely worth the anxiety. His lips turn up slightly in amusement as his hand reaches out, and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. I sort of shrink in surprise, but the heat of his finger as it grazes my ear gave me goosebumps of a different variety. "I've been watching you, you know..." His deep voice rumbles across the couple of feet to my ears. "Everyday, you come to the gym, exercise in the same pattern. Is there something you need to ask a trainer, finally?"
Before I could stop the train of thought, the words tripped out of my mouth. "Can I feel your muscles?"
A moment of silence ensues. I look away, pressing my hand to my mouth, as I move to walk past him. "Um...sorry." My face is red and I'm about to die of embarassment, but a big hand comes out and grabs my wrist. I look back at him, biting my lower lip. We don't move. At that very moment, a couple comes out of the fitness center, and before they could see us, he presses me against an inset in the plaster wall, the index finger of his other hand against my lips. They leave. "Sorry about that. It's just that I'd be in trouble with the center if I were found to be.... fraternizing with our clients." "But, we were just talking," I mutter. His eyes travel the length of my face and stops at my lips. "We were, weren't we?" Before I could utter a single sound, he lowers his head and touches his lips to mine. Distantly, I recall him dropping his bags and removing mine from my arms, but not quite sure when or how.... his lips are so soft. He kisses his way from my jaw to my ear. "You smell... delicious." At that moment, I pull away, a virgin's fears finally settling in. "Wait, wait. I-we can't." I roughly brush my mouth with the back of my hand, and glance at him warily. That damned grin flashes across his face again. "What is it that you asked again?" My eyes nervously flicker. "Uh, I didn't think we could move this fast... I actually just wanted to talk." He tilts his head. "You wanted to talk... so you asked if you could feel my muscles?" I chuckle hesitantly. "Stupid now that you say it, isn't it?" His cologne, goddamnit. I can't think. So much for an ivy league education when your mind doesn't even work. He lowers his head again, but I duck. He sighs. In between one breath and the next, he tugs on his shirt and lifts it over his head, exposing his tanned and hardened body. "So, which muscle did you want to feel?" He takes my hand and places it on his left pec. My fingers glide over the smooth yet rough skin, and my thumb softly smooths over his nipple. I suck in a breath at the same time his body tightens. My hand, by itself now, runs over his abs, tracing each line of muscle, up to his chest, and arm, the bands of muscle flexing as his gaze remains on the spot right behind my left ear. "I was thinking, this one," I said, leaning over and touching my lips to his right bicep, right where the tattoo of the clasped hands was inked. As I lifted my head, my tongue peeked out and wets my lips, tasting the slightly salty flavor of his skin. "Thanks for being so... accomodating." I pick up my bags from the ground, give him a parting grin, and stride towards my car. "Wait," he demands, "where are you going? We're not going to get coffee?" He quickly puts on his shirt and follows me. His large, warm palm lands on my shoulder. I sigh softly, closing my eyes and mind against the temptation of spending more time with Mr.Sexy. Right when I open my mouth, about to accept his ridiculous proposal, a "Reyes! A lady here wants training sessions!" is shouted from the door of the center. I close my eyes, exhaling a relieved sigh. His eyes turn back to me, troubled, and his mouth curved in a cute frown. "When will I-" "Reyes!" His brow furrows as he shouts back "I heard you the first time!" Taking advantage of the distraction, I move to quickly open my car door, sit inside, and close the door before he consciously noticed. Putting the car in reverse, I roll down the window.
"Six months, Reyes. See you then."
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
(2+0) (1+0)
So I guess every year seems to start the same for me. I celebrate New Years by sleeping in late and then going to work, or waking up and lazing about, drawing, hanging with friends maybe, or just watching tv. I was content, thought very bored at times. I’d always read stories and wish for excitement and adventure. But you know? This year seems to have brought that without me realizing it, and unlike the heroines in a story, I’m not sure how the outcome is going to be, I just know, a lot of things are coming at me.
For one, I’m old! I’m at the end part of my Junior year, and that is so frightening! What am I going to do? Go to JD school, or go to a grad school for philosophy? I’m leaning much more strongly to JD even though I fear it’s difficulty, but I still want to talk to my advisor about all my options. But nevertheless, so many things scare me. Having to pay back my loans, applying for more scholarships, applying to new schools! Completing my major in philosophy. It’s just all so scary! I want to crawl in a corner, cover my ears and turn into a house cat that has no worries except for how to get up onto the table and away from the dog.
But alas, I shall face it every day, little by little. So I try not to worry about it, but according to my mom and some websites, it may be the source of my perpetual dizziness in my dreams. Though, I’m not too sure about that, always have to take that kind of information with a grain of salt. Nevertheless, that is another thing I have been thinking about. My dreams have been really vivid! I’m not sure if it’s because of my stress meds, or just because I’m just anxious sometimes, but it really is weird. I can’t remember if it was in my dirtbike dream last night, but i know the days before, I was always getting dizzy! I’d be running away from someone, then collapse against a wall n be like, oh noes. Or be fighting someone, and be like hit, then get all dizzy. Or just be dizzy all of a sudden. It’s so weird! And I know it’s not blood sugar or anything, cus I always eat dinner, so who knows.
Aside from school and dreams, I have also come to be a little more, well…not pervy per se…but hmm….more Nom Nomy! *for those of you who know me, you know exactly what I mean* I never thought I’d be one to be very affectionate. I mean, I don’t really know how to interact with people on that level. I can tell people things, or support them, or stuff like that, but initiating a hug, or touching that person’s hand or something small like that is so hard for me to do. And I’m not sure why. But because of that, I thought that I’d never really enjoy kissing or anything more than hugging *simply because I have grown to love hugs, it’s like hugging a giant living stuffed animal that hugs you back hehe* But it’s like a giant change or a giant secret to myself that i’ve found.
I really do like showing affection and being kissy. I don’t really feel super comfortable all the time, for reasons I don’t know and for reasons that I don’t really want to share explicitly. But even though I would love to just cuddle and watch a movie, ‘making out’ as people seem to put it, is fun too. Though, there never seems to be a right place or time for it. Especially when the fear of someone walking in weighs heavily, the fear truly does rule. Nevertheless, the fear that I would never really grow to like kissing or being close to someone is lifting slightly. I guess for now I know I won’t be alone forever like my brother used to always tell me. Though, I also have questions that arise.
How often do couples do that? Like everytime they hang out? But what about just being like an old couple for a day or two? *ie: doing nothing but sitting and watching tv together or something* And what is the pace people normally go? Is it too soon to be making out? Way late? And what if I don’t want to take that next step for a long time? Well, I guess time will tell. But for now, i shall enjoy what i have. Because it really is fun, and it’s something totally new, that doesn’t feel that bad.
oh, and the title is a secret message….it’s…..my future age this year! :O (old)
For one, I’m old! I’m at the end part of my Junior year, and that is so frightening! What am I going to do? Go to JD school, or go to a grad school for philosophy? I’m leaning much more strongly to JD even though I fear it’s difficulty, but I still want to talk to my advisor about all my options. But nevertheless, so many things scare me. Having to pay back my loans, applying for more scholarships, applying to new schools! Completing my major in philosophy. It’s just all so scary! I want to crawl in a corner, cover my ears and turn into a house cat that has no worries except for how to get up onto the table and away from the dog.
But alas, I shall face it every day, little by little. So I try not to worry about it, but according to my mom and some websites, it may be the source of my perpetual dizziness in my dreams. Though, I’m not too sure about that, always have to take that kind of information with a grain of salt. Nevertheless, that is another thing I have been thinking about. My dreams have been really vivid! I’m not sure if it’s because of my stress meds, or just because I’m just anxious sometimes, but it really is weird. I can’t remember if it was in my dirtbike dream last night, but i know the days before, I was always getting dizzy! I’d be running away from someone, then collapse against a wall n be like, oh noes. Or be fighting someone, and be like hit, then get all dizzy. Or just be dizzy all of a sudden. It’s so weird! And I know it’s not blood sugar or anything, cus I always eat dinner, so who knows.
Aside from school and dreams, I have also come to be a little more, well…not pervy per se…but hmm….more Nom Nomy! *for those of you who know me, you know exactly what I mean* I never thought I’d be one to be very affectionate. I mean, I don’t really know how to interact with people on that level. I can tell people things, or support them, or stuff like that, but initiating a hug, or touching that person’s hand or something small like that is so hard for me to do. And I’m not sure why. But because of that, I thought that I’d never really enjoy kissing or anything more than hugging *simply because I have grown to love hugs, it’s like hugging a giant living stuffed animal that hugs you back hehe* But it’s like a giant change or a giant secret to myself that i’ve found.
I really do like showing affection and being kissy. I don’t really feel super comfortable all the time, for reasons I don’t know and for reasons that I don’t really want to share explicitly. But even though I would love to just cuddle and watch a movie, ‘making out’ as people seem to put it, is fun too. Though, there never seems to be a right place or time for it. Especially when the fear of someone walking in weighs heavily, the fear truly does rule. Nevertheless, the fear that I would never really grow to like kissing or being close to someone is lifting slightly. I guess for now I know I won’t be alone forever like my brother used to always tell me. Though, I also have questions that arise.
How often do couples do that? Like everytime they hang out? But what about just being like an old couple for a day or two? *ie: doing nothing but sitting and watching tv together or something* And what is the pace people normally go? Is it too soon to be making out? Way late? And what if I don’t want to take that next step for a long time? Well, I guess time will tell. But for now, i shall enjoy what i have. Because it really is fun, and it’s something totally new, that doesn’t feel that bad.
oh, and the title is a secret message….it’s…..my future age this year! :O (old)
SCHOOL~
Well, it's my first long day at school in awhile. Not used to this staying from 930 to 4 here. It's being kinda killer. But whatever, it happens. So far physics wasn't too bad. There is a lot of writing and lab work, but it doesn't seem too hard. The daily quizzes don't really fit my fancy though. That'll be something to work on... But it was alright. HOwever....
Have you ever had that kind of teacher where you feel sorry for them when they talk? As if it's like they are so uncomfortable that they emit it from their pores? They stutter, fiddle with things, and act all meek even though they are the teacher. It's like, c'mon man, it's okay. Just get to teaching. Oh, and to add to the awkwardness in class, he took pictures of everyone with a piece of paper that had their name written on it so he would be able to memorize names. I know this isn't the first time this has happened, but everytime it always seems a little weird to me. Like, really? Something about standing in front of a teacher, forcing a smile and holding up a paper with your name on is unsettling.
Oh, and campus bookstores....the bloodsuckers of the academic world. They know so many of us do not order our books on time, and they prey upon it. "Oh, didn't order your book? Well here it is, only $50 dollars more. Oh, don't want it? Going to go to amazon? Well, good luck with your homework these next two weeks! hahaha." It's just like that. You can tell. So yes, i bought one blasted book, but the other....the spanish workbook was NOT what the online bookstore said. 89 and 98 are very different! And no offense to my dyslexic friends, but do not work with numbers! Sigh, and i have a feeling i will end up buying it too, if only to get my homework done on time. Although, its like 30 dollars cheaper on amazon.....What can i say?
Also, parking is a bitch. I don't mean to complain too much, especially after reading about the sadness of not having a car *i know that feeling, it hurts deeply* but really, can't we manage to have more parking here? I know we are a small school, but i don't know...i'd like to be able to park nicely. THough today wasn't too bad. Also, why must my classes be all over campus? I don't want to run around. heh, last semester was awesome, all classes in the same building. But alas....i must take a science lab class for my M1....
To continue my rant i do not want to work tomorrow, or saturday! I should never have agreed to cover for Jen on Saturday! Why in the f*ck did i do that? (okay, i know why. it's because i had less than 10 hrs total this week...but still!! lol) I guess it can pay for that spanish book.....
Also, I feel like time passes too quickly! Before i know it, all my friends leave to go back to school, or don't leave, but still go back to school and have opposite schedules. It's a mad house! And i CANNOT wait for summer to begin! It'll be my sacred haven amidst the chaotic and frenzied madness that is and will be academia. Well, on that note, i should leave for class now. And no, lucy this isn't the blog i wrote last night. :P I'll post that one later. For now, adieu!!! I go to spanish now......
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Lucimarfied... aka. you're never gonna be the same
So, props to Mandapoo for creating this new term: Lucimarfied. I love it, and i'm sure Omeow will love it too. It's spicy, funny, original, and completely TRUE. because once you go lucimar, dirty thoughts won't be very far... LOVE IT! <3 one: cornell is a rapist of grades and souls. and usually i joke about being raped (i know i know, i'm sorry to be politically incorrect) but when it comes to my future being in danger of going down the drain because cornell thinks grade inflation is as necessary as a tree trunk in my ass, it IS NECESSARY. not the tree trunk part (unless i was like elastigirl...) but the grade inflation... there are geniuses at cornell. and i'm not one of them. can't they be merciful to a little, innocent college girl's dreams of actually becoming successful and not failing out of college to flip burgers at mcdonalds?!?! apparently not. although the fact that i'm little or innocent is completely false, it nevertheless is part of my argument damnit. (and if this doesn't make sense, i'm blaming it on the lateness of the day/night)
two: the fact that i don't have a car there. i love driving. whether it's going to the grocery store or to the mall or picking up hookers on the street corner (not really, guys. the dollar bills i ask for at the cash registers are to donate to the salvation army!!!) driving gives me a sense of power and pleasure. over there, i have no carrrrr *cries* and therefore must wait out in the freezing cold for a bus that's always at least 20 min late and then waste precious hours of my day when i'm supposed to be studying. or watching movies. or doing anything but studying. but i suppose that's what being a poor, broke college student is all about. being powerless and basically a pawn in a game of chess between the "College administration of evil money-hogging professors and secretaries and clerks that don't give a damn whether you learn or not" and "Society's stupid rule of graduating from a good college in order to be productive in life". Ay.
three: cooking. i love cooking, especially baking, but when i have time to not look at the clock every 2 seconds because i'm supposed to be studying for a prelim, midterm, or final. AND write five papers. at home, cooking and dishes are done by daddy-o, and when i cook it's special. at other times, he cooks delicious healthy DELICIOUS things that i cannot cook (after all, he's had decades more of experience than i have) and all i need to do is eat and then put the plates/bowls in the sink. ah, the life of an offspring.
Oh, and another reason. I have much time to go to the gym, and ogle all the meat there. staring is caring! but while at cornell, i doubt i'll have much time for staring at my "fun reads" much less staring at sexy mature men who work out and are sexy.
*sigh*
the things we do to insure we won't end up as hobos.
and even then, we still might.
but i'm sure being lucimarfied shall help in job-seeking. as hookers or escorts or strippers and such.
every job has their "perks" (i'm so punny)
=]
two: the fact that i don't have a car there. i love driving. whether it's going to the grocery store or to the mall or picking up hookers on the street corner (not really, guys. the dollar bills i ask for at the cash registers are to donate to the salvation army!!!) driving gives me a sense of power and pleasure. over there, i have no carrrrr *cries* and therefore must wait out in the freezing cold for a bus that's always at least 20 min late and then waste precious hours of my day when i'm supposed to be studying. or watching movies. or doing anything but studying. but i suppose that's what being a poor, broke college student is all about. being powerless and basically a pawn in a game of chess between the "College administration of evil money-hogging professors and secretaries and clerks that don't give a damn whether you learn or not" and "Society's stupid rule of graduating from a good college in order to be productive in life". Ay.
three: cooking. i love cooking, especially baking, but when i have time to not look at the clock every 2 seconds because i'm supposed to be studying for a prelim, midterm, or final. AND write five papers. at home, cooking and dishes are done by daddy-o, and when i cook it's special. at other times, he cooks delicious healthy DELICIOUS things that i cannot cook (after all, he's had decades more of experience than i have) and all i need to do is eat and then put the plates/bowls in the sink. ah, the life of an offspring.
Oh, and another reason. I have much time to go to the gym, and ogle all the meat there. staring is caring! but while at cornell, i doubt i'll have much time for staring at my "fun reads" much less staring at sexy mature men who work out and are sexy.
*sigh*
the things we do to insure we won't end up as hobos.
and even then, we still might.
but i'm sure being lucimarfied shall help in job-seeking. as hookers or escorts or strippers and such.
every job has their "perks" (i'm so punny)
=]
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