Sometimes I Like Jazz & Soul

Rexican is an Awesome Portmanteau

Several weeks ago, my friend hooked up with a recovering sex addict/intense moody writer/arrogant crude asshole who lives on her hall. We gabbed about it a few days later, and she was very up for it again. She is a crazy person. He is a large guy, makes the occasional fart joke, dry humps his best friend as a joke, and keeps his room in a perpetual state of messiness that can only compare to a tornado-stricken area.

So naturally I got drunk in his room last weekend and almost did the same exact motherfucking thing.

I am chock full of win, aren't I? I think at some point, I should have learned my lesson, but apparently not HAAH oh me goddammit @____@ There is nothing even remotely redeeming about this guy aside from his newly acquired bong and magnificent stash of ganja, and still--still!--I take it upon myself to consider him as another notch on my ever-growing list?! Maybe I've smoked too much. Maybe I like stealing my best friend's boy crushes. Maybe I'm just really horny. (highly likely, no way, and I always have my hand.)

The craptastic icing on the cake is that now he thinks I'm into him and has asked me over to his room twice now since Saturday. ACK. Honestly, if it weren't for the magnificent mary jane he has in his possession...

MY LIFE MAKES NO SENSE.

When Life Screws You Over, Press a Button

http://www.nooooooooooooooo.com/

Keeping It in The Family

Hey everyone, remember that one entry where I told myself I wouldn't get my friend's sloppy seconds? Well, I didnt! I'm so proud of myself except for the part where I was thisclose to hooking up with one of her humongous crushes who LIVES ACROSS THE HALL FROM HER this past weekend. Yeeeaah. I am such a wonderful friend. At least I had enough sense to stop myself from doing the unthinkable and instead only had a ticklefight with him that went on for several hours. I should let you all know that I find ticklefights cliched and several kinds of lame. Apparently, I am also a hypocrite.

I need to confess though: if one of my other friends aka The Cockblocker had not been there talking with us in the dorm suite, I would have jumped on Friend's Crush before my buzz had a chance to wear off. The best part about the entire incident is that he was dressed for the Drag Ball. --> epic win. Something has to be wrong with me. I don't run into the middle of these situations on purpose. Shit just happens. (Riiight, keep telling yourself that.) However, when Friend grilled me for details between me and Her Crush, I could honestly reply back that nothing happened.

Well, I didn't mention the ticklefight because that doesn't count. No of course it doesn't. Which means the part where he pinned my arms behind me and against him, and the resulting half-hour long Tense!Spooning Session from that totally means nothing too. Yessirree. Neither is the kiss I gave him on the cheek in any way significant. I see no friend-betrayal here, do you? I've only told one other person this, and I intend to KEEP IT THAT WAY THIS TIME.

Why can't I just hook up with anyone I want? I don't want to have to care about whether or not my friends are interested in him/her too, or what the brown community here would have to say, or anything else! I had this golden opportunity, and it slipped away because I stayed loyal (kinda.) Gah, having friends can be annoying.

And now it's back to work -_-'

It's Still You (Remix of a Previous Post)

In my dream, we are dancing. All first you were behind me, swaying in time to the music, and I had my eyes closed with my arms over my head. I did not catch you moving your hands until I felt a sudden warm pressure on my right breast, and I jerk my head in surprise to see you looking back at me with a smile on your face. I cannot think of anything to say because this is the first time you have appeared in my night-wanderings, and you press close against me and whisper nonsense in my ear. I nod, pretending to that this all makes sense, and lean my head back on your shoulder. Your fingers are still splayed over my right breast, and no one seems to notice. I am hot everywhere, and my breaths keep hitching. My stomach turns. Enough dancing.

I turn to face you, my own hands grazing the outline of your hips, and let me wordless question hang in the air because I do not trust myself to speak in a steady voice. You understand and open your mouth to respond, but that is when I make myself wake up. I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling, my heart pounding in my ears. I was so close. I was too close. I do not let myself go back to sleep to finish my dream's supposed events. Instead I slide out of bed and sit at my desk until you haunting afterimages eventually fade back into my mind again. I turn the lid a little tighter.

~~

The proverbial torch I hold for you has not gone away. It sits in my stomach, lingers at the back of my head, presses against my eyes. I have gotten used to it. The pressure has evolved into a vaguely comforting hum that gives me enough creative juice to write a short piece every now and then. I like to think you do not know. I tell myself I hide my feelings well enough so that only my very close friends can discern them. I do not talk about you to anyone anymore. I do not try to dance with you at parties. I do not try at all. I have maintained my control and sealed away my fantasies. I suppose this is why you suddenly appeared when I was sleeping some nights ago, a lovely manifestation of all my suppressed feelings, and there was no ambiguity as to why you were there. I had to act on my urges somewhere right? I would not be so unsettled by this were it not for the fact that I could not quite look you in the eye in class afterward. All I would do is project, and I did enough of that last year. I still want you. My dreams will simply have to do. There is no "for now" attitude attached to this end.

This Just Made My Day

Maybe I Should Skip Sleep More Often

I just stayed up all night again so I took a short nap (or rather I accidentally dozed off.) I had a dream. At first, I am in the Mass Effect universe, thrust into the middle of a firefight on some godforsaken fuel station wielding nothing but a pistol and my wits. Next thing I know, I've teamed up with a malien (and a delicious one at that), and we're kicking ass and taking names in that epic sort of way that only takes place in dreamland. There's screaming and running and crushed glass crunching underneath my feet, but we escape the krogan and his vorcha henchmen via some sketchy, vacant alleyway; when we're sure we've lost them, we lose ourselves in a fit of unrestrained laughter. Of course in dreamworld, that is a cue for sexytime. Against the wall. While the scary mercenary gang is still at large. James Kirk had the right idea.

Cue next sequence:

I'm in the same fuel station, but no merc gang rampaging the streets this time. Instead, I'm in a seedy nightclub downing shots from dirty glasses as the live band plays shitty original music. I sit there, bored. And then she appears right in front of me, and I'm not surprised. I've been expecting her. I've been waiting for her. (always, always.) She pulls me onto the floor for a dance, and we move as fluidly as two semi-drunk people can in time to the song, which had shifted to a slow jam at some point I can't remember. I close my eyes and feel the strobe lights flicker across my eyelids, like tickling, like butterflies landing. Suddenly, there's a warm--no HOT--heavy pressure on my right breast, and I open my eyes, gaze down, and see a hand indeed covering my right breast. The hand belongs to her. These fingers splayed on my body belong to her. I turn around, and we smolder at each other before leaning in.

I can't decide which dream I want to redo. And no, I can't have both.

Grapes

A few weeks ago, my mom sent me a Food Box. Among the assorted goodies was a carton of fresh green grapes. The package arrived just before the grapes began to spoil, and I stored them in the fridge for later consumption. I never got around to eating them. Last night, my blockmate threw them out because they had grown soft and disgusting. I didn't get to eat a single one. I don't why I'm so bothered. I ate everything else in the box: the chips, the dry fruit, the chocolate, the instant noodles. They were nonperishables though, and did not need to be stored in a fridge. I let a perfectly good carton of fresh fruit go to waste. Grapes cost a lot nowadays. My mother bought them just for me.

I'm going to go now. I just felt like I needed to write this down.

Anime Boston 2010

My Loot:

- one Tali print $10
- one Garrus print $10
- one Raven print $10
- one Pokemon print $7
- one Sebastian print $12
- one FMA print of Lust $15
- one Kuroshitsuji accessory $10
- 15 various pins/buttons $15

Total Cost: Couldn't remember the exact prices for each item, so I rounded up or guesstimated. Either way, I definitely spent over $100. OOPS. However, only two of the prints were for me; the rest are gifts for friends and family. I'm such a giver.

But of course all of the buttons are mine. Dude, I'm not THAT nice >_>

Oh, and epic weekend at the convention was epic.

Fool Me Over +9000

It's supposed to be a funny day. Maybe tomorrow will be better.