Welcome to my happily ever after...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
sex stories
My diary has been going in the toilet lately. I just haven't had anything to write about.
Not only am I on beeper duty, but I'm also driving this week. The girl that I ride with is super grouchy today. I can take it up to a point, and I hope I don't end up becoming DJ (Diva Jonathan) later today when we drive home. I'm thinking I should probably just leave her alone for the rest of the day. Maybe she's just having a bad day. The third girl in my carpool's last day is Thursday, and I'm thinking that after that I might just start driving myself. That way I can run errands on lunch and leave in the mornings for work when I want to. She gets ticked off if we get to work more than 5 minutes early, but I'm just not like that. If I had my way I'd be here up to 15 minutes early without fail every morning. Plus she's starting a new job in a couple of weeks, and I think that she's going to want to work different hours. Furthermore, she's getting on my nerves. I like people that are nice despite the fact they are having a bad day. She also likes to put me down, both one on one and in front of people, and I'm sick of it. I'm all for teasing in fun, but I've had it. I think that she's frustrated that she got this new job and they are taking so long to put her in it, but that's not my fucking fault.
I had a good weekend, but it went way too fast. I've been having a problem with diarrhea, and on the way to visit the folks yesterday afternoon, I pooted in my pants! I had to stop at a convenience store to use to the bathroom and clean myself up. It was gross. So the moral of the story is that if your stomach is rumbling, don't fart in the the car. You never know what might come out.
I did some big time shopping this weekend because it was tax free weekend. Once a year they waive all the sales taxes for back to school shopping. It rocks because I rack up on clothes and shoes and save a ton of money on taxes. I bought a new pair of brown shoes, a pair of black shoes, three new dress shirts, and three ties. Woo-hoo! I have on the brown shoes today, and I have to say I don't know if I've ever worn more uncomfortable shoes. The things we do to look cute....
Carlos started his student teaching yesterday. This means that he will only be working at the bank on the weekends, and as a result he will be home EVERY DAY when I get home from work. This means I will have to make dinner every night, no more porn, having to share the bathroom. Ugh. My routine has come to an end.
I went to the dollar store with my mother Sunday and bought a ton of tupperware type dishes to bring my lunch in. We shall see if I actually use them now. I've tried this before. I also bought some kick ass bubble bath, and I can't wait to get home tonight and get my bath on. It really is all about the simple things in life. I'm just as happy with my dollar bubble bath as I am with all new clothes.
I got such strange calls this weekend on my cell phone. I didn't recognize more than half of the phone #s on the caller ID, so I just let them roll to VM. No one but Maddey left a message. Who's gotten hold of my phone #? I hardly ever give it out. I just don't answer calls that I don't recognize the caller's phone #.
Carlos and I got into a bit of a row last night and I went to bed mad. I'd mentioned that my customers were getting on my nerves yesterday and that I told one of them that since we couldn't seem to provide them with what they need, perhaps they should look elsewhere. I mean, this is what I was told to say when I talked to them again, so that's what I did. Carlos told me that I shouldn't have said that, so I said "So in your vast experience of helping people on the phone, is that really what you think?". He replied with "If you're that defensive with me, I can't imagine how must act to your customers on the phone." Wrong thing to say. So I busted out with the big daddy and said "Don't worry....I won't get fired and mess up the gravy train you're got going here." Then I went to bed. Hrmmmph. He can just be a fart.
I'm over it this morning, but I still get a bit miffed thinking about it. Remember the time he accidentally sent the naked pictures to his bank's VP? Or the time he accidentally gave the note that said "fucking wetback" to the customer? I hardly think he can tell me how to behave myself in the workplace. Whatevs.
I have decided that I'm a big proponent of the mail order prescription thing that Aetna does. At first I was a bit shaky about mailing off my prescription along with my credit card # to some random post office box, but lo and behold, about a week and a half later it arrived via air mail with a 30 day supply. It was for my Zoloft.
To take a que from Smokinkudzu, I will share a couple of my bad sex stories. Unfortunately I think I may have more than most people.
PAM IS NOT A LUBRICANT
With my first boyfriend Tracy, one night we ran out of lube. Apparently he was jonesing for some anal sex, so we decided to search for things that we could substitute for lube. After ransacking the kitchen, the only thing we could come up with was Pam, that cooking spray that you coat a frying pan with. So we take it in the bedroom, spray some on my dick, spray some on Tracy's asshole, and then he sat down on my dick. We thought that we'd come onto something...I mean how fast and easy is spray on lube? That was before I realized that some sort of chemical in Pam, when applied to skin, or at least MY skin, makes me break out in big fat hives. Having hives in your pubic area sucks big fat one. I finally had to go see a doctor at which point I had to admit that I'd used Pam to have anal sex with my boyfriend. I rock.
PLEASE WASH SHEETS BEFORE USE or a.k.a. INVOLUNTARY WATERSPORTS
One night after I moved to Houston, I met a guy that spent the night flirting with. Somehow I knew I was going to get lucky later, and sure enough, I was right. When we got to his house, we practically fell into his bed, and the first thing he said was "I just put these sheets on the bed and I haven't had a chance to wash them yet. Will that bother you?"
Oh heck no....are you kidding? An earthquake wouldn't have bothered me at that point.
Did I mention that the sheets were red?
So after a vigorous night of boinking, the next morning I wake up in his bed. Why am I so cold? Then I realize that I'm wet. Now I was drunk last night, but I don't remember anything wet going on. After sitting up in bed, I realized it was piss. The guy had fallen asleep and pissed all over me, him, the bed! When you combine unwashed red sheets, sweat, piss, and then sleeping on them all night long, it's a recipe for a shit sandwich. I was fucking RED! I'd been sleeping on my side, and the whole right side of my body had been dyed red. Holy shit, it took a week for it to finally wear off. I spent my whole college graduation trying to hide the fact that I was red. Good thing those robes were long sleeved.
THE END
1:25 p.m. - 2004-08-10
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------