mymichele's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- anniveraries and such Four years ago today, I was a carefree 17 year old senior in high school, looking forward to my 18th birthday so I could officially buy lottery tickets, needing a ride to get my senior pictures done and go to the bank to cash the check I got working at the movie theater. Four years ago today, BB stepped up to the plate, swung the bat, and hit it out of the park. Four years ago today, my life changed, for better or for worse as they say. That makes it sound like we're married or something. We're not. We might as well be now since we wipe boogers on each other and take shits with the door open without flinching. It's been good times, people, and it's been bad times, but they were times, as my one of my favorite movies Singles said. It's been a bumpy road, but someone had to ride it. Have I exhausted my cliches yet? I think so. So what did we do for our four year anniversary? Ermm.. I think nothing would be the word. It's not really his fault, I'm sick, and I think I got him sick yesterday with our pre-anniversary nookie, so instead of eating pizza at the very first pizza place we ever ate together (awww.. that's what we do on our anniversary cuz yeah, good times.) and going to play miniture golf, we went back to his house and took a nap. He's still asleep! Bah. But he's saying "We'll celebrate in Reno." Which is where we're going on the 26th. Which is really not a bad time to celebrate, cuz we're going to see Elton John and such. I'm not complaining, really. I'm just saying it would have been nice to maybe get dressed up and go out to a nice dinner and then have some good sex afterwards. But when he was 16, he made a pledge t himself that he wouldn't have sex until he was married, and now, at 23, he's still abiding by that. And that's good. Really. I swear. Okay, even I'm getting tired of my bitching now. Last night, at my Creative Writing class, while I was still recovering from watching porn in my previous class, my story was critiqued. It was a scary thing, 16 people all commenting on what you wrote, telling you it kinda sucks. I looked back over it (you can find the unedited story over here) I was like.. "damn, that does suck." It's not really that it sucks, it's just that it's my first attempt at writing something other than porn and making it into a short story. Oh well, that's what the term "rewrite" was created for. And while they're critiqing the story, I wasn't allowed to talk. That was painful! I wanted to defend my baby! There was one guy who said "You get props for mentioning Guns N Roses, I'm totally obsessed with them." I was like.. woooeee.. hubba hubba, baby! I gotta get your number! Being sick sucks. My voice is all strange and I kinda sound like ET. Not that that's a bad thing, really. Words that I always misspell: tommorow unfortenetly embaressing commitment gorgoues
I guess that's all I have for tonight. I shall leave each of you to your own devices! Good times. 7:43 p.m. - October 03, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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