"Hey baby?" Aaron asks gently, knowing I'm asleep or trying really hard to be.
"Mmrf. Cuddlemdkjklf," is the response he gets because it was the latter. For the record, he's very good at following instructions.
Is it strange that I prefer to cuddle before sex and to be left alone afterwards?
Esp called last night to discuss, among other things, a disturbing picture of our [secretly] beloved Rooney frontman. We talked for an hour and a half about tactlessness, growing up, conservative men, and politics in general. I can't remember the last time I talked so long on the phone with anyone, let alone Esp, and the experience was cathartic to say the least. For the nine years we've known each other and the five years since we've been real friends, I slowly but surely cast my surly, bitchy, tactless spell over the person who was once voted "Sweetest Girl." Her other friend was shocked when Esp said that she would tell him -- wait for it -- the truth in any given situation. If he looked like crap, he would know it. If he was being a stupid boy, she'd be the first to say so. It takes some adjustment, but Esp and I have finetuned our cattiness to the point where I can say, "Esp, you are SUCH a shitty driver," and she'll be all like, "Bitch, you are!" and gales of laughter will be the only sound after Esp rearends three cards while trying to parallel park in a perpindicular parking space. Or she can be like, "Jesus, Morgan, hormonal much?" And I can start crying and scream, "Well, YES, as a matter of fact I AM ovulating THANKS VERY MUCH," and she'll be all like, "Ugh, get over it," and I'll be all like, "Fuck you!" and then we won't talk for three weeks. But it's cool.
How can people say, "I'm okay with homosexuality, I just don't want them to be in love according to the law because they might have a chance at real happiness and I never will"? That's like saying, "It's okay that you're black, as long as you're my slave to make up for it because I have a superiority complex and the ability to kill you legally." I mean, not really, but sort of.
I asked Aaron last night for the second time ever, "Would you still want to have an abortion if I got pregnant? I was spooning him, my face snuggled against his neck, his face buried under a pillow, and I didn't hear his first mumblings but I did hear, "You'd be a good mommy. We'd have to move in with my mom." Uhhh...I'll take my RU-486 with a side of Prozac, hold the protestors, please. Yeeks.
I don't understand why people are saying that the country is going to be invaded if Bush loses. What, because the terrorists are soooo scared of Bush? Because he has the power to pick up a phone and thousands will die and he can justify it to his country? Do we want to [continue to] be That country? Do we have to bully around everyone else for fear of being considered diplomatic? If you don't want to be afraid anymore, don't give the world reasons to hate you.
one year ago today: "Spoiled? No: taken care of."
two years ago today: "i can see the moon from between the cracks of my blinds and it looks as lonely as i am. i think i'll go join it for a cigarette."
three years ago today: "so, here i am at college." and "'i mean, really, what is a friend?'"