another year?

This was the first year that I didn’t spend Christmas Day with my parents. We stayed in bed, went to Rite Aid for beer and a plunger (why does the toilet stop working on Christmas Eve of all days?), and ate Mexican enchilada frozen dinners. I did miss having presents. I had said so many times that I don’t care about presents, and not to worry about getting my anything. And I don’t care about getting something to show off. But I decided that I do care that he goes out and gets something, anything, and wrap it for me. Think I can revise it for next year? It’s depressing not to have even one present to open. It’s nice to know someone thought of you.

I took a week’s vacation and we went and bought some furniture, made some art, now it looks like a real apartment. It feels like home. I love, love, love the apartment. I will miss it if we move to Austin. It feels like my first home.

For New Years, I stayed in bed again. Sick, watching 24. I have weird dreams from 24. I start to think people are following me. Conspiracy everywhere.

I hosted the friend’s Christmas party this year all by myself. It was a nice one. No getting too drunk, no late night martinis. Everyone loving the apartment and me finally getting Martha stewart with the food preparation. I was pretty proud of myself. Buying wine, setting everything up, giving all the directions out, and still being ready early. The toilet didn’t work the night before, and I even taught myself how to use the plunger. I know it’s little things…

strip clubs

At dinner with your boyfriend and his friends: Don’t drink too much and help them talk him into going to a strip club for the first time. Don’t buy him a lap dance. Don’t tell his friends how good your sex life is including detailed description of his, you know.

I have a completely different view of strip clubs now. I thought it would be someplace really sexy where guys sat transfixed by the view of naked bodies, but the whole time these guys joked to themselves how bad the women looked: "Nice body, dog face". And to the girl giving a lap dance: "Let me guess how old you are-- 32?" She was 23 (she said). It was like being on a Howard Stern set. Definitely less glamorous and sexy than I had imagined. Now I really don’t see why guys go there. Maybe they would have acted differently someone's girlfriend’s around, I doubt it?

i think he may have been really jealous of the stripper giving me a lap dance. and upset that i sent her over to him afterward. he sat there will his hands on the chair staring straight forward. you know i was so not jealous, i could just feel his disgust. but i guess i looked like i was having too much fun, being a little too drunk and chatty, and with the girl demanding i touch her breasts and legs. and she was really nice, we had a conversation about shaving cream (her legs were so smooth!), and perfume. She came afterwards and sprayed me with her perfume out of her bag (victoria's secret, very sexy, the red, not the pink).

Seriously, the strip club was not our thing. I used to think doing things like that would be sexy, but it just felt bad with him. it felt like why would we need this? things are usually so perfect, it put a weird vibe into the night, and took a day or two to wear off.

His friend was impressed by how clean we left the place… but for some reason he couldn’t find his sheets. May be a good thing.