...it started when we first started kissing each other...and now I love elevators.
When we get into an elevator, we know that it will happen as long as no one else is with us. If someone else is with us, we stare at each other, smiling, knowing what we would be doing to each other if they weren't there.
it's a planned sort of oral ecstacy...elevator means making out like the doors will never open. Of course the 'ding' means stop. And I shouldn't say this, but being trapped in an elevator with my bf would be amazing :-)
okay, now that I've written this, I need to come up with a plot of a story and a decent draft by Monday, I say this because 3 other classmates will read it and comment. So, for my own sense of self-worth it must be good.
If I disappear for another week it is because I am actively attempting to rise from the dead, my grave being too much homework.
My bf's roommate is less grumbly now. But he seems to be home more, which means less alone time with my bf. I miss waking up next to him and just going for it first thing, full of energy and falling asleep again, and waking up at noon wondering what the heck happened.
And my tummy is not liking food these days. Queasiness abounds.
And my bf is going to drop sign language for the same reason I nearly did...and the teacher gave him a C for midterm (total bullshit as I'm tutoring him and I got an A in the class) so anyway...me and deaf teachers aren't clicking so well these days.
Actually me and hearing teachers aren't doing so well these days either.
We watched Black Orpheus in my writing class...truly the highlight of my semester in this class...and it's a movie.
Which reminds me, registration is starting soon and I'm going to sign up for a 2 week course in documentary film making. My bf is wanting to take a course in art therapy at the same time.
And we're very close to planning our summer trip to Cali! I just need to dig out of this grave first, and clear my thoughts.
and stop feeling queasy...
and write...
and maybe write about my biggest pet peeve about my mother...she even talks to me when I'm going to the bathroom. Which feels so weird and invasive.
~e
