I want a cat cat kitten. cat. So freakin' badly. There was a cat at the house I was at the other night and I lay on the floor with it and petted it so much that my new black bunnyhug ("hoodie") got so completely covered in hair that it looked white. Sexy.
I also tried to smuggle the cat into the room he wasn't allowed in. Because I wanted to spend time with him. I'm so ridiculous that it's not even funny.
I am feeling almost clinical, detached about romance these days.
No. That's not true.
Humans should not be allowed to relate to each other.
It's funny the different types of men and how they all have different expectations of women.
And I am not good at being one kind of lady.
Sometimes I wear lacy lingerie and sometimes I don't shave my legs for months and don't care, and sometimes I like cowboy boots and sometimes I burp a lot and sometimes I think my missing toenail is super-cool (and sometimes I am shockingly embarrassed of it) and sometimes I have the dirtiest mouth and sometimes I get so so scared of sex and sometimes I like ballet flats and long for expensive hand-bags, sometimes I want to go get everything waxed and sometimes I think that's foolish, sometimes I have a perfect manicure and sometimes I bit my nails down to my elbows, sometimes I want to work out and get the perfect bum and sometimes I think that mine is perfect because it is mine mine mine and sometimes I wear shiny blue bandeaus like this new one:
And get accusing looks from hippie cowboys who think that it's ridiculous and gaudy.
The whole concept of being "sexy" is sort of bizarre. Sexy looks so completely different on different people. I wish I were less swayed by others' opinions. I wish I had an unshakeable sense of self and certainty.
"We have to find you a new man. One without frosted tips and one who doesn't shave his armpits"
- GF to me
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