Little Sisters May Not Want to Read This
Rated PG-13 for some sexual content.
While trying no to give the whole world too much information I have to talk about how absolutely ecstatic I am that I get to see Ex. #1 tomorrow.
I have made my list of things to pack, I have begun primping, I have planned out how to get enough sleep before he reaches Waco, that is if I am not too excited to sleep when I get there.
This is only important because I feel that part of the reason I have had this sort of mental inability lately is the level of sexual tension buzzing around inside of me at every moment. I found unbearable sexuality in a Hawthorne short story while trying to finish my mid-term and got so distracted that I couldn't get back on course for at least a 1/2 hour. The character in question did represent female sexuality but it was Hawthorne, not Anais Nin.
The next week is going to be like a little mini-vacation where I still have to go to school and work. First I'll have my mind-clarifying Friday night, Saturday I'm going to Threadgills and concert with my little sister and our cousin, and Saturday through Thursday I'm house-sitting for my favorite couple in their cooler-than-possible house. So it's like a break from my life as I know it. Except that most of the remaining time will be spent reading Moby Dick. Oh well, I can only ask for so much.
On a final note I got my ring back today from the repair shop. It looks better than ever, he must have cleaned it as well because the two little diamond chips look amazing. I'm going to retract my previous superstition concerning the omen that I associated with the repair that had to be made.
4 comments:
woohoo! There's nothing like a little Melville after a... never mind. By the way my NEW LUCKY FOSSIL saved me from completely bombing my geography test (I say completely-- it's partially bombed, oh well). Have fun!!
Glad to see things looking up. Tell Faux Pas I wish him belated greetings.
~Sam
Hawthorne, huh? You need some lovin', darlin'.
Which ring is this, btw? Is this an enGAGEment ring, or what?
I read Moby Dick on a thirteen hour bus ride. When I reached home, my parents took me out for some Chinese. My fortune? I don't remember exactly, but it had something to do with a whale. I took this to mean absolutely nothing. Far more important were the lucky numbers, which when decoded revealed a plan to assassinate the Pope.
Good luck with that awful tome!
No, not that important of a ring. One I got from him for my birthday last year. I've worn it nearly every day since then. It came in a set with earrings and a necklace. When he and I were having problems last spring I would wear the whole set, and wear one of his shirts or something I had gotten while shopping with him. I would wear a perfume he liked and then I put up all of the pictures of us together and slept with one of his dress shirts. I was a Gabe shrine. There goes my glaring superstition again, but it worked for me.
Trust me, you guys will KNOW when I get an engagement ring, and it probably won't be soon, no mater how much I talk about it. This is how it works when you're broke.
By the way, after my Waco rendezvous I'm feeling much better. I can think so much more clearly. I get another fix this coming weekend. By then my thoughts should flow so freely that I'll be a f*ing genius
!
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