S: "So, I saw something the other day that made me think of you."
Me: "Oh?"
S: "Did you see the Lindsay Lohan pictures, where she was Marylin Monroe?"
Me: "Umm hells yeah. What about them?"
S: "Oh, they just made me think of you."

And just when I thought he couldn't be any sweeter...

Edited to add:

"lol, i was refering to the marylin shoot, i mean, lindsay was hot, but you're way more classic glamor than she is...lindsay is still a girl, to me, you and marylin are women ;-)....lol i mean, i'd not kick lindsay out of bed, but I was comparing you the marylin shoot, much more luxurious, and come on baby, you're an original, never a copy...i mean, i always hate revising my blog posts and i'm sure you do too, but I'm gonna have to insist, you're a marylin to me, not a lindsey"

Wasted Wednesdays

Hey, remember that time I got arrested? I do. In order to get that expunged from my record, I have this fun little "Substance Abuse" class every Wednesday night. It sounds like it should be miserable, but more often then not it just cracks my shit up.

The first class, I just sat there with a bitchface on and my arms crossed, trying to keep from arguing that I shouldn't even be there. But by now (three classes in) I just take it in stride. The girl teaching it is like, my age. She's not too psyched to be there either, and her knowledge of what she's supposed to "teach" us is pretty marginal. For example, she describes the effects of a hangover as the opposite of the effects of alcohol. "So, you know, if alcohol makes you relaxed, after that wears off you'd feel...what?" "anxious?" "Yeah, and if alcohol decreases your reaction time, a hangover would...?" "Increase your reaction time?" "Right" Wait, what?

My favorite thing about this class is how a phrase can mean something so different in there. A "really fun binge drinking activity" does not mean Flip Cup, it means a handout. Last night, playing Drug Jeopardy, I got to say things like, "I'll take Ecstacy for $100"

I like to have fun with the class a little bit. Sometimes I'm, just obnoxious and point out the fundemental problems with the research presented, sometimes I just ask retarded shit, like how to make crystal meth. I also enjoy fucking with stupid kids in the class. We have all these little team exercises, and I want to lose every single one. "What are two long term side effects of ecstacy?" Um, it's totally overrated? My group huddles to caucus but no one can come up with anything. I can't resist. "You know, I heard, if you have sex on ecstacy you can never have an orgasm again!" The other girl's eyes light "Ooooh that's a good one!" She raises her hand "Umm erectile...I mean, impotance?" The teacher looks at her like she's retarded. I sit back and smile. The girl looks at me accusingly. Bwah ha ha. "Dude, I didn't say that." Some guy raises his hand, "So for girls it would be like, menstrual....stuff?" Wow that's not even close. The whole class sort of falls apart and I am so proud of myself.

I wish she would ask something like "What's everyone doing this week?" so I could tell her I'm going to a wine tasting tonight and am clearly too cool for this class.

hangover day

Have you ever ended up with a epic hangover that you are quite sure you did not deserve? Wednesday night I went to have dinner with my advisor and his wife, as I often do, and had 3 or 4 glasses of white wine while I was there. Less than a bottle. I ended up feelig very drunk, chalked it up to just being tired/ having missed my workout that day, and went home, drank some water, and went to bed.

The next morning I thought I was going to die- my head was pounding, my skin was clammy, I was dry heaving all morning. I managed to drag my ass to campus where I was lucky enough to run into my ex boyfriend of 2 years, Will.

He said hey, and I said hey, and I tried to keep walking but he wanted to start a conversation. He wanted to tell me he was taking another year to graduate. Of course. His pattern was to sign up for classes, and then forget to go because he was always, always high. Trying to have a relationship with him was not only a bad idea, but really imposible. He was always too high to really be there, it was like trying to interact with the shell of a guy. The fact that he's still in school is kind of remarkable, but I know that he has alienated all of his friends, not just be, by constantly being too checked out to function.

I told him I ws getting a master's next year, and he was all "Oh that's great....but, are you gonna get accepted?"
"Um, yes? I mean, I'm not worried at all"
"Yeah, cause I mean, you're really smart Sarah, seriously, you are." wtf is this? I was so annoyed by his condescention I just said. "Well, yeah"
"Really you are. How've you been?"
"Really good actually, everything;s going great, feelig really shitty today though"
"yeah you look like a mess, are you ok?"
"Yeah I'm really sick... lie a hagover and maybe something else? I dunno"
"Oh are you drinking again?" he asked in this low voice that made me wana stragle him
"Actually I haven't been drinking much at all this semester, this year, I've been really healthy"
"It's really bad for you you know, you shouldn't drink so much"
"Um yes, I had like 3 glasses of wine?"
"You see it hurts your liver, your liver's right here" and he put his hand on my waist. I recoiled away involenterily, like he'd bured me.
"Yeah I think I know where my liver is. Good luck actually graduating, I gotta go finish some work."
"Ok well, yeah you knnow I've..." He kept talking as I walked away.

I felt awful after that. I never feel good after seeing him. At the very least I think, were you this unattractive when we were going out? His features are too feminine, he's small, like 3 inches shorter than me. He talks like he's on mood stablizers. He's arrogant and boring. Going out with him was a tremendous drain on my self esteem, and my biggest regret was that I did it for so long. I never got the sense he was attracted to me at all, and he was at best mildly interested. I was aware that this was not the ideal situation but I thought, well beggers can't be choosers.

As the afternoon went on, I came out of my hangover haze and managed to get stuff done. while working i the lab, I got a call that S had sent me flowers. Oh yeah, it's Valentine's Day. Even better, instead of the drugstore arrangement of red roses and baby's breath in celophane, he'd sent some really gorgeous tulips. So much cooler.

Completely negated earlier events of the day

going down

I've never been a big fan of getting eaten out. It's never bad, but all things considered it just seems like a mediocre idea. Maybe I've just had a few less than stellar experiences with over-enthusiastic drunk freshmen boys. My primary reaction was always, "Wow, he's really trying, he didn't have to do that!" or "oh shit, now I have to go down on him." I didn't get any real gratification, just recognized the effort. It was just so clear they were doing me a favor, and I'd better enjoy it. I don't fake orgasms, really, I haven't in long long time, but I always found myself greatly exagerating my enjoyment, to show my appreciation and maybe to suggest that they could stop whenever they wanted, thanks.

Eventually I just sorta skipped it entirely, I'd wiggle out of positions that looked like they were going there, or I'd flat out say I didn't like it . "Oh I'll make you like it." Whatever dude. When the guy insisted or I wasn't up for arguing, I'd switch into Appreciative Mode and applaud the skill.

Last weekend S wanted to eat me out. I was feeling sexy as all hell (waxing is fantastic y'all) and I managed to get into it. I kind of love watching things like that, somehow I can feel voyeuristic and narcissistic at the same time (like looking back when he's fucking me from behind because I like watching my hips thrusting back into his. Mirror in the bedroom maybe?). Anyways. For once, being eaten out didn't seem like feigned awkward chivalry, and it didn't imply any expectations of me. I mean, I wasnt thinking "I've gotta give him head now" because I'd been aching to suck his dick since we'd gotten into bed, if not earlier.

Those long, slow licks made my whole body ache, getting stronger as his tounge moved harder and faster... the build up was extraordinary, but to get over that edge and actually cum like I needed to, I had to fucking focus.

I blame S- he has recalibrated the way I cum. It's like playing a video game on a new level- you could beat level one over and over, but level 9 is another story. Getting off has never been a problem for me, but the quality, duration, intensity of my orgasms are so much greater now that I don't think I can have the regular ones anymore. My body doesn't recognize it, it's holding out for the good shit. Getting eaten out is quite lovely but it's not gonna give me the mind blowing, explosive, can't see straight orgasms I've been spoiled by.

Weekend

This weekend, my boyfriend and my mom came to stay with me, in my apartment. When I told people my plans, they'd say, "Won't that be a little... awkward?" I'd say, "Yeah, isn't it great? I live for this shit." I've reached this really great point where I'm confident and happy with my relationship with him and with my mom that I couldn't imagine anything going badly. Awkward, yes, but not irreperably so.

It would seem like an odd arrangement, to have sex while your mom is in the next room. But more than that it was unfamilliar (but not uncomfortable) to be flirty and affectionate with my mom watching. She absolutely loved it, I think she found it really entertaining. And although S was careful to ask what was allowed before hand ("can I kiss you in front of your mom? are we allowed to sleep in the same bed?") once it was clear that this was all ok he was completely comfortable, and for that I have to give him huge props.

My mom didn't hesitate to call us out, in jest. In the car she said "Oh you guys don't wanna sit in the back together and make out?" (like my brother and his girlfriend do) "I guess if you can actually sleep together you don't need to do that." I love that rather than turning red and thinking, oh my mom is so embarssing! I just smile and kind of love the fact that my mom calls it like it is.

Then we went to meet the advisor and his wife, and everyone had a great time. S said, "After meeting him, I have to call bullshit on all your stories."
"What? Why? I've never said anything that wasn't true, what don't you beleive?'
"Oh no I believe it's all true, but it's not malicious at all, they've just adopted you like a daughter and he cares about you and your mom, he's been so lucky financially and he just wants to share that."
"Yeah. That's....what I said."
"Well, I was worried, but he's a great guy."

I used to keep this boy a secret. It's such a releif to have everyone like each other, and I jsut feel lucky to have all these people who care about me together.

Strings Attached?

I have a research advisor here at school who often takes on the role of sugar daddy. Through a lot of good luck, he has found himself with more money than he knows what to do with, and for some reason, he is very attached to me. It may be the fact that he taught my mother when he was just starting at this college and liked her quite a lot, it may be that I look eerily simillar to his wife (who was a model for Yves St Laurent many many years ago, omg!) but I think it's mostly fueled by typical old-man desire to "help" people. I think he has reached the age where he wants to leave a legacy, and he has more or less been disappointed by his children.

He plays the role of doting father, but because I have never experienced that, I'm sort of uneasy. That doesn't stop me though, I've already let him buy me a very expensive Cole Haan purse, to slip me envelopes of cash when I go out of town for a weekend. My pride and my desire for true financial indpendence are sometimes outweighed by my materialism.

Starting in May, I'll get a graduate student stipend. My advisor will supplement this stipend, because he can. I know that he expects more of his graduate studets than most do. The extra money means working longer and harder, that's reasonable. On the DL, he's giving me a few grand to "invest", as long as I meet with him a few times a week to to let him advise me on my investment strategy. Ok then.

My boy is visiting this weekend, and he will meet this very weird man. Before meeting him, my advisor has offered his frequent flier miles to anywhere in the US, for Spring Break. Reaction #1- hells yeah! Reaction #2- You are a creepy creepy man.

I have experienced that, in accepting these sorts of favors, there are always strings attached, even if it's just a nagging feeling that you don't deserve what you have or that you'll always be indebted to someone. I can't decide whether to accept the tickets or not. S is uncomfortable too, understandably.

I told my advisor's other grad student about his offer. "Aww that'll be so much fun, that's so nice of him!" he said.
"Yeah I don't know, it's kind of uncomfortable."
"Nah, why's that?"
"Well, I'm not sure how my boy feels about it...."
"No?"
"Well, how would you feel if your girlfriend worked for this guy that liked her a lot and spent a lot of time with her, took her out to dinner a lot, bought her a lot of stuff, got her drunk, and gave her expensive gifts and vacations and was taking her to France this summer?"
"Oh no, that would not be ok, I'd wanna fight 'im."
"Yeah, you see, it sounds really bad."
"Shit yeah. So your boy's gonna meet him this weekend?"
"Yeah. Oh, it will be some fun."
"Is he gonna start some shit? Is he gonna try to throw down at dinner, he gonna get mad and shit?"
"What? Oh, no. No he's not like, retarded!"

We'll see. Either way, it will be interesting. And damn, I'd love a long weekend in a hotel room with my boy over break...