HOLY shit I completely forgot I had this thing.

Sooo...how are things?

For me, logistics first: I'm working in the city this summer, living with Michael, Philip, Brett and Jenna. Yah - it's really crowded but even with the housing market the way it is, we couldn't split the rent any other way. (Actually, I probs could have afforded just splitting it with Michael, Philip and Jenna, but I felt like it would have been mean.)

But of course, that was before I knew Brett is a such a fucking whore. Put that with Jenna, who has a boyfriend now who I swear to God talks about an apartment but seems to, um, never go there, and the result is that sometimes I feel like I'm living in a musical about scrappy newsies or something, we're so crammed into this teensy little apartment.

I'm interning at Random House, which pays in like pigeon poop and airline magazines, but the work I'm doing is actually okay. Plus the hours are ridiculously long, so I'm barely in the apartment except to sleep and sometimes eat. And my bosses are pretty decent, so I'll probably get good recommendations out of this, which was the whole point, anyway.

My fake got torn up a couple weeks ago, but I've dropped what seems like 15 lbs over the course of this summer, in what I think is the result of (a) poverty, (b) stopping smoking weed so much, and (c) smoking basically a pack a day, with all this walking around I'm doing. So with the new toned me, I'm getting into lots of places that I don't think my fake would have even got me into, so, silver lining, etc.

Um, I got my hair cut shorter with neat layers -- I'll link to a picture soon -- and I still have like half of Kath's wardrobe from school, which is of course all chic and fun, so I'm lookin' pretty NYC, if I may say so myself.

Anyway, that's the update, I'll tell fun stories and stuff next time. Call me, I want to hear about your lives!

It's a cliché to have a crush on your older brother's best friend, but I guess I'm not all that original a person.

When I was in tenth grade and smoking weed was so badass and giving backseat blowjobs to my boyfriend of the time, Seth, made me such a slut, I would fantasize about Jamie, or a weird reincarnation of him where he was a mixture of a romance novel cover hero and what I realize now would be an utter skeeze. I so badly wanted a boyfriend that would be hot and cool and mean, where Seth was only cute and athletic and sweet. Whenever I knew that Jamie would be staying at our house, I would sleep with makeup on, just in case I got up to get juice out of the fridge at night and he happened to be up.

I'd have little fantasies where he'd say, "Can't sleep?" and I'd say, "Always," and he'd push me up against the refrigerator door -- etc., etc. Let's just say that my libido was profoundly influenced by chick flicks and bad pornos, and leave it at that. My relationship with Seth was shy and fun and absurdly comfortable, so it was a reflex to think that I deserved something better.

The summer after junior year of high school and Seth and I were in the middle of bad times. He had just come back from his first year at college, where he had grown a Boston accent and a beard and what seemed like a thousand female friends who all wrote all over his myspace page and sent him text messages in suggestive shorthand. I wasn't really jealous until he told me not to be jealous, at which point I became furious and suspicious as a post-menopausal housewife. "Okay, if you say so" became my mantra for our interactions, just as "Jesus, can't you just -- Jesus!" became his.

In any case, it was when I was in a two-week stretch of repetitive coffee dates with all of my best friends that consisted of "Ditch his ass!" and "Trust him!" by turns, that Jamie came to stay. And it wasn't very long after that I got a 3am drunken call from my brother asking me to please come pick them up in Effingham, if that was convenient.

An hour's drive and four wrong turns left me driving back with Jake and unnamed female third party in my backseat, with Jamie sitting next to me. We smoked and flicked ash out of the car windows and listened to what seemed like a thousand Tom Petty songs while my brother got jerked off in my backseat. Somehow, I thrilled to the moment in a way that all the romantic gestures from Seth had never made me thrill.

Later that night, I was bringing bottles of water to Jake's room only to find Jamie sitting on the floor outside the door with a pillow and a blanket. He took the water, said thanks, and gave me a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth.

Romance novels ruined me for life.

Work in forty minutes
I should be freaking out because I'm gonna be late, but I'm just giggling and cuddling with Sean, trying on different clothes, and sometimes just looking at how pretty frozen pizza looks...

I think I MAY still be hiiiiigh from last night.
=)

My first day of work tomorrow - NERVOUS. There's not a dress code, but that almost makes it worse, I have NO idea what to wear. I checked out some of the people I'm going to be working with and they seem pretty chill, but I don't know. Plus I HATE starting a job where a lot of the people know each other already. Just freaking awkwardddd.

Plus I need to wake up at 7 in the fucking morning...Jesus Christ, I hope I don't pass out driving on the freeway...!!

I love to feel tiny during sex, to just feel little and feminine and to have him say "That okay?" and to hear his deep voice rumble through the both of us in the same way that the bassline of a Red Hot Chili Peppers song slams into your sternum and throbs --

I love to have him on top of me, him too tall and me too short but I tuck my head into his shoulder and feel him breathing in my hair and sometimes pressing gasping open-mouthed kisses on the top of my head as I screw my face up in the way that everyone does when they touch themselves when they're alone, when squinty eyes and gaping mouths don't matter, because he can't see --

I love to hear him hit on that word that he can't stop repeating, sometimes offensive, always obscene, and listen to the intensity that musicians play when there's an accented triplet or that politicians use when the words on the teleprompter are in italics or that smokers feel when they've been unwrapping presents with family all Christmas and they can finally sneak out at 1 in the morning to smoke --

but their thumbs keep fumbling the lighters --

again again again, before paper burns.

When he comes, I usually haven't, but it feels so good to be tiny and breathless and needed like nicotine.

Home from school and I'm renting an apartment in the city. So I had a party last night, invited my nearest and dearest, plus some other funyons. My apartment is literally empty - no furniture in the living room, and all I have in the kitchen is soda, liquor, and a toaster - so it was basically BYOeverything. People took that seriously. Jenna brought a blender and a fruit basket, Michael brought pizza and waffles (?!), Lindsay brought a stereo, and Philip brought a hookah.

We sipped a handle's worth of Bacardi mixed into Jenna's frozen liquor concoctions, listened to a lot of music, smoked a lot. It was literally a fog of cigarettes, hookah and weed that made Michael (the non-smoker among us) periodically run to the hallway and gasp for air. I was having a blast, drinking a lot, eating more than I should, and then it got after four o'clock and everyone was asleep on the two mattresses on my floor.

I stacked the red cups, threw some blankets over my friends, opened a window, and watched sitcoms until the sun rose.

It's the moments like this that remind me why boyfriends and hookups and all that other stuff shouldn't be as important as I make it out to be. Bros before hos, yo.

Emma's got a boyfriend
a boyfriend
a boyfriend
Emma's got a boyfriend
now she's gettin' some ea-sy

Emma's got a boytoy
a boytoy
a boytoy
Emma's got a boytoy
now she's gettin' some love. =)

Everything's going according to plan!

In other news, my skin has been so f-ing perfect right now, I don't know what it is.

QUOTE OF THE DAY:
"That has to be the first time a firefightas gotten pussy in tha history of fire OR pussy."

I wish I had a Boston accent.

and now let's see how this goes
THURSDAY
1:45-11:30AM: Sleep
11:40-11:50AM: Shower. Bwahaha, another shower gel
11:55AM-12:10PM: Get dressed When am I going to do my fucking laundry?
12:30PM: Meet Kath, go downtown
12:40-2:00PM: Lunch
2:10-2:30PM: Errands downtown (Tan, cigarettes)
2:50-6:00PM: Revise Paper - English
6:20-7:00PM: Dinner with Anna, Caroline
7:00-10:00PM: Study - Psych
10:10PM-12:00AM: Pack, Move When will it end?

MONDAY:
12:00-2:40AM: Watch Friday Night Lights with Walker, unsatisfying anal sex.
2:50-3:00AM: Shower. Out of shower gel, steal some from suitemate.
3:05-3:15AM: CVS - Cigarettes. NO MARLBOROS?!
3:20-4:00AM: Online - Porn. Orgasm...finally. Was wondering if I was broken or something.
4:05AM-12:30PM: Sleep
12:40-1:10PM: Starbucks - Coffee, Cigarette. Mmmm.
1:20-5:30PM: Study - History (frequent snacks, cigarettes)
5:40-5:50PM: Motivational Cigarette. You can do it!
6:00-8:00PM: Exam - History. You did it!
8:10-8:30PM: Shower. Steal shower gel from different suitemate.
8:40-9:20PM: Maddy's Room, smoke a bowl. Wow, didn't realize Maddy did coke.
9:30-10:00PM: Change clothes. Need to do laundry...
10:10PM-12:00AM: Kath and Perry's Apartment

TUESDAY
12:00-3:00AM: Kath and Perry's Apartment
3:10-4:00AM: Anna's Room. Eating domino's, playing "If we were all characters from Sex and the City..." ALEX: Emma would be Samantha.
4:10-4:30AM: My room. "Am I really that much of a slut?"
4:40-5:30AM: Online - LJ, Porn. This chick bouncing on these two guys' dicks? Bigger slut.
5:40AM-11:50AM: Sleep. Worst way to wake up: Perry and Jason shaking you.
11:50AM-12:10PM: Shower. If they break any of my stuff while I'm in here...
12:10-2:00PM: Pack/move my stuff with Perry and Jason. They didn't.
2:20-3:00PM: Lunch at Applebee's. Perry paid, for some reason.
3:20-4:10PM: Pack/move stuff. Eww I'm sweaty and disgusting and unattractive
4:20-4:50PM: Study - Gender Studies.
5:00-5:30PM: Help Alex pack/move. Say goodbye. Finally.
5:40-6:00PM: Shower.
6:20-6:50PM: Dress. Laundry, laundry, need to do laundry.
7:10-8:20PM: Dinner at TGIF with Anna, Alex, Derrin.
8:40-9:50PM: Study - Gender Studies.
10:00PM-12:00AM: Maddy's room, smoke a bowl, eat Domino's.

WEDNESDAY
12:00-1:30AM: Maddy's room, eat Domino's. Jeez, feel like a fatty.
2:00AM-10:30AM: Sleep.
10:30AM-12:30PM: Paper - Italian.
12:40-1:40PM: Lunch with Kath, Caroline.
1:50-3:00PM: Paper - Italian. Finally done!
3:05-5:40PM: Study - Gender Studies.
5:45-5:55PM: Motivational Cigarette. You can do it!
6:00-7:20PM: Exam - Gender Studies. You did it!
7:30-8:00PM: Cigarettes with Dave, Alice, randoms. God I love smoking.
8:10-9:00PM: Gossip, snack with Maddy.
9:00-9:35PM: Library, "doing work."

REST OF THE NIGHT's PLANS
10:00-11:30PM: Jason's apartment.
11:40-1:00AM: Alice's party.
1:30AM: GO TO SLEEP NOW! (Big day of work/play tomorrow!)

Doing this is pointless, ridiculous, and a waste of time. But weirdly energizing...

Ugh, I feel like I sweat like a fiend. The guys were helping me pack/move my stuff, and I swear that I must have been shiny and disgusting by the end of it.

Sometimes I wonder if Disney ruined my preconceptions of femininity.

I'm not a slut.

( Read more... )

But if my pussy had a scrapbook, these guys would definitely appear more than once.
(But is it awful that a lot of the other pictures would be blurry?)

It always surprises me when I find out of my friends does coke. No judgment, I get where they might be coming from. But always surprise.

It sounds so 7th grade of me, but I also always decide that they must be super cool.

CVS was out of Marlboro Lights.

I know. I didn't even know that it was possible.

Camels take longer to burn. The flavor lingers right at the back of my throat. If I cough, the smoke gets in my eyes.

Had sex with Walker. Sexy arms, I'd been basically lusting after him for weeks. I see him in the elevator all the time. He got a haircut and now he just looks unbelievably hot.

We hung out for a while, watched "Friday Night Lights." Before the second episode, I went down on him. He fingered me. He asked me if we could do anal. He hadn't done it before. Before I really thought it through, I said it was okay.

When I'm in the library late at night, I fantasize about a stranger grabbing me, pushing me onto a long table, and just touching me. No sex, no groping, just long and lingering contact.

Tomorrow, I need to study for my history exam and pick up cigarettes.

Hanging out with the posse, back from a party at Sta***'s, we're playing Questions.
Dave is practically passed out in my lap. I'm stroking his hair and he's opening his mouth and saying the most random shit, just really letting loose with commentary and secret-dropping all over the place.

I get the question: What's the dirtiest thing you've ever done?

The answer is anal sex with Patrick K******. I say it as nonchalantly as I can. Nobody makes a face or anything, but Derrin asks me who with.

"Patrick K******," again, so nonchalant. Oh, yeah, he's amazingly hot and the object of many a female crush? Hm?

Dave strokes my thigh and tells me (with much slurring and quite a few asides) that he'd heard about that. It's Patrick's thing, apparently, and even though I was a little bigger than his ideal, Patrick knew that I'd be down with whatever dirty stuff he wanted to do.

(I think Dave meant it as a compliment, of sorts.)
I'd wondered if I was a slut before. Every girl in high school who's sexually active has wondered if she was a slut. But I'd never wondered if I was a fat slut.

Ugh ugh ugh ugh.
I just wish I could forget the conversation ever happened.

TONIGHT: Smoked a early bowl in Maddy's room, watched some She's the Man. It's the worst movie to watch when you're high - lots of loud and confusing and awkward. Or maybe that was just me tonight. It was a bad high and I escaped to be alone as soon as I could.

Shitload of homework to do tomorrow. I think I may kill myself. When in two weeks' time, my peppy blonde R.A. follows the stink and unlocks room 912 to discover my rotting corpse hanging from the windowsill with a note pinned to my shirt reading "It's Professor Greenspan's fault! Goddamn you, stealthily debilitating English courses!!", do me a favor, would you?

Tell my story.

For some reason, I'm not enjoying cigarettes lately as much as I used to. I cough. I don't feel as predisposed to relaxed and metaphysical thoughts. I fumble the lighter.

The Law of BFF Breakups
It seems middle-school, but you and your closest friend put your relationship into "best friend" terms and it's cute and comforting. But immediately following this declaration, there will be fall-out. She ditches you for a guy, you make plans with people she doesn't know, there's a busy week of classes, and within a fortnight, you've broken up.

"So, how has everything been?"
"Oh, you know... We should definitely make plans to hang out!"
"Yeah, definitely!"

You don't.

I'm honestly so randomly and irrationally horny right now that I know it must be something hormonal - I guess I'm getting my period this weekend. The fact that the two events are correlated expresses exactly how awful being a girl really is.

(1) No boyfriend
(2) Absence of good, reliable booty call
(3) Two roommates

AGHHG.

This is ridiculous. I got some last weekend. I got some the weekend before that. I masturbate in the interim! Why am I suddenly so desperate for a hookup? Are my hormones that out of whack? Am I that insatiable? At my young age of 19, am I turning into a desperate cougar?

(Again, the moodsmiley is so misleading.)