outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- why you shouldn't drink at a stranger's house Four days without an entry is too long. Of course, I've gone longer, but that is neither here nor there. Before me sits a still ridiculously well-laden plate of lasagna and meatball leftovers, still well-laden even though I did my best to unladen it during lunch. I feel like a moo. But I have to somehow get hungry enough to finish this before I leave, because I have no way of bringing it home, and wasting food is against my religion. I had a pretty fabulous weekend, I think, even though I was mad at Rob all week for Monday's sake. Oh, I didn't tell you guys about that. Em, ran all over the place trying to find him while he made assumptions about where I should be and did a little shopping, blah, it's not important now. All you need to know is I was holding it against him all week and until we arrived at his family's Christmas party Saturday night. Then we got a little smashed and had drunken sex upstairs at his aunt's house. (pause) I hope no one else did that before we got there; it's one thing to do it yourself, and another thing altogether to do it after somebody else. Uh, kids, protected sex, committed partners, waiting till you're ready, do as I say, not as I do, etc etc. And for the love of god, lock the doors. Yesterday we also had a birthday party to go to, this time with my family, which was pretty fun but oddly uncomfortable and strained because of Rob's presence and own personal discomfort. I asked him if next time he could try to maybe not look so uncomfortable, but the way I said it and the way he took it made it seem like a criticism instead of a plea, and I couldn't think how to word it correctly so I had to drop it. Here's hoping for better luck next time. *clink* I don't know if it's the season, or the holiday, or my hormonal cycle, or what that makes me start blaming weird things on Rob. I have to remind myself that it's not what he's doing, it's what I'm thinking. I'm not sure why I'm begrudging him these little things, which is usually a character flaw that I impose only upon strangers. I wouldn't want to run into me in the street. Sometimes I do and I walk off in a huff, asking my inner monologue how anyone dare be that caustic to me. But being an ass to strangers who deserve it for being so stupidly, bovinely in my way is not as out of line as taking it out on the one I love. Rob takes it with amazing good nature, but that doesn't mean it's ok. Ohhhhhhhh.....mairsy dotes and dosey doats and little lamsy divey; a kiddleedivey too, wouldn't you? That is where I choose to end this foolish babble. With that, and this, my crochet square count-down: four to go. 3:09 p.m. - 2001-12-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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