singlegirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gassy Girl The best word to describe this weekend is blah. Friday night we went out with friends, I got drunk, and started talking about getting married. Okay, I obsessed about getting married. Jeremy and I talked about it for hours until he finally said, �I feel like you�re forcing me,� which was a response to the question, �When do you think we�re going to get married?� (which I asked him dozens of times). This, of course, upset me, so I tried to sleep on the couch. He wouldn�t let me, so I passed out in the bed, but refused to talk to him. Don�t you love how mature I act when I�ve been drinking? Anyway, we talked about it Saturday morning, and he apologized for making that comment and said he didn�t mean it. I apologized for asking him about it over and over again. We both know this is it � I�m just not as patient as he is. Saturday afternoon we washed cars to raise money for my work � it was actually kind of fun. My roommate (and ex-roommate) came to help too. We got some sun and did something worthwhile. Sadly though, washing cars exhausted both Jeremy and I, so we rented movies and stayed in on Saturday night. We watched Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen (my choice � it was not good) and half of Unfaithful (again, my choice � it was okay). I also made dinner (his choice � meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and rolls), and we drank wine and smoked. It was very relaxing night. Sunday was cold and rainy, so it ruined any plans we had of going to the lake. We finished watching Unfaithful and followed it with Butterfly Effect (his choice � strange, but the best movie of the three) and Heartbreaker (it was on TV). We drank the rest of our wine, ate leftovers and went to bed to have a romantic rendezvous. This is where it gets embarrassing (and I can�t believe I�m typing this in my diary). We started by reading erotic stories out loud, while softly touching each other. After a few stories, I climbed on top (I�m on my period, which is why we didn�t have too much foreplay) and after a few minutes, I came and we switched positions. He climbed on top and threw my legs over his shoulders and reached around to cup my breasts. (This is where it gets bad). The pressure of him on my stomach caused me to fart. A lot. Every time he thrust forward, I would fart. Finally I started laughing so hard (what else is there to do?) and the moment was completely ruined. That has never really happened to me before (or him either) and I was very embarrassed. So yeah, it was just the big finale to the blah weekend that we had. Oh, and I haven�t even mentioned the part where Jeremy made fun of me � twice! Saturday morning, he told me that he loved me so much he could just eat me (not in a sexual way, more like a cannibal way). As he was playfully biting my arm, I asked him how many meals he thought I was. I guessed six, to which he responded, �Honey, one of your butt cheeks alone...� Ha ha, asshole. I know he didn�t mean it in a disparaging way, but still. Then, on Sunday afternoon, he was climbing all over me, so I tried to squeeze him to death between my thighs, to which he screamed, �Okay Thunder Thighs, I give up.� Seriously? He claims that he didn�t know Thunder Thighs meant fat thighs, he thought it meant strong thighs. Whatever. Now granted I call him Belly, and chant �Buddha, Buddha� and rub his belly, but we all know it�s not the same. So yeah, I went from being told I was pressuring my boyfriend into marrying me, to getting told I had a fat ass and thighs, to farting on my boyfriend during sex. And he wonders why I woke up today feeling ugly, embarrassed and blah? He�s called me at work twice now to make sure I�m okay and hopes I�m ready for a great night in bed. Think I�ll stop on the way home and buy some Gas-Ex. 1:10 p.m. - July 26, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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