OVER—!

July 6, 2006 at 9:38 am | Filed under joyful girl, technicolor lover

And last night’s “It’s The Hottest Thing Evaaarrrr (Too Bad I Don’t Have a Pictarrr)” eeeeez!: D shirtless and sprawled on my bed, his lips puckered and his forehead scrunched up as he plays a game of Free Cell. He sucks at it, though, and everytime I’d try to help him out (cos you know, I rule at Free Cell :D), he’d shush me. :blush:

I’m aware that all I’ve been writing about lately is D. It’s not because I’m absolutely smitten by him (just kinda)— it’s just that we’ve been spending a lot of time together, especially with his girlfriend out of town for who knows how long. SRSLY. Last week, he was at my condo 3 nights out of 5. He sleeps over when we both don’t have work. And then he drops by that same night, too.

For some reason, it irks me that his phone’s wallpaper is a photo of his girlfriend, when it used to be a Superman logo until some days ago. Makes me want to put up photos all over my studio of me with boys from my past. :kissy:

Yes, we’re playing a game here.

The only downside about the whole thing (NOT counting the fact that he’s cheating on his girlfriend and I’m a bad bad person for not resisting, and the “agreement” that I’m not allowed to date) is that I’m gaining weight. I’M SO FAT. All D and I do is eat, eat, and eat. I don’t even have time to overdose on laxatives cos he’s always there.

We live almost decadently: eat out, sleep in. I’m oversexed and overfed. Oh. And overworked. :cute:

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SUCH AND SUCH OPPOSITES.

July 3, 2006 at 3:30 am | Filed under a waste of human capital, ditz drivel, technicolor lover

Two sounds I dread to hear the most: my phone’s alarm going off (Britney Spears’ I Love Rock N Roll— the polyphonic version), and an Avaya beep (signalling that I have to put on my headset, un-mute my phone, deliver my spiel, and deal with some idiot Caucasian. I swear to God, I don’t get it— why call telesales, why even THINK of purchasing something over the phone when you damn well know you DON’T have a credit card?).

Ahem. Anger-be-gone.

Two sounds I love to hear the most: D knocking on my door at 10pm (Yay! He’s finally here!), and some non-idiot Caucasian with a bill to account voice telling me “I’d like to add a new line to my account/I’d like to set up an account.”

Two things I FUCKING HATE waking up to: my phone’s alarm, and hearing this fucktard from my building butcher Broadway songs with his nasal half-baritone half-tenor and blood-curdling vocal gymnastics.

Two things I love waking up to: D stretching and flexing (LOL) his biceps beside me and then watching him look around my studio before slinging an arm over my head to pull me in closer, and.. Oh what the hell. D. He twitches in his sleep! :cute:

Just two for today. I smuggled coffee out of the pantry to my workstation and now I’m dying for a cigarette.

Pacquiao won against Larios (OMG, did you guys see the tassles on Pacquiao’s shoes??? HILARIOUS. Like a village fiesta, or a Wright Park/Quiapo horse!), eTelecare lost against Infonxx. At a little past six pm, D sent me a message: “Hmp we lost”. Aww, poor baby. :(

I DIDN’T WATCH HIS GAME, BY THE WAY. Not because I had rather see Pacquiao beat the shit out of Chololo(ooo), but because I knew his girlfriend would be there, and because D did not volunteer the idea that I go fangirl over him.

Apparently, he did not “invite” me because I had sort of made it clear that watching a basketball game on a Sunday afternoon was far worse than, say, going to church. Which is true, to some extent.

Oh. And his girlfriend’s out of town. So.

I start channeling Mary-Kate Olsen TODAY. I eat more than a 6′3″ man, and I’m like, 5′2.5″. D and I had brunch at Shakey’s before his game and I had three pieces of chicken, two slices of pizza, and lots of mojos. All D had was pizza (the remaining 6 slices) and mojos. HELLO, CASTOR OIL.

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