Tonight was Senior's Awards' Night. It was long and boring and full of mistakes, but Mlle. Jang and I had fun with my camera in the meantime. I don't think I would have had that much fun if I was with Mlle. Smith--who won shit tons of scholarships that night. Mlle. Jang just seems more spontaneous and more...I don't know...open to stupid stuff.
I've reached the decision that M. Lythgoe is no longer cute. Maybe he was cute last semester, but this semester his facial features look too big for his face. Mlle. Jang rates him a 5. I rate him a 7.
At one point, Mlle. Karch was called up. They announced her school and how much money she got. It was the weirdest feeling. Like, I was so proud of her and what she's gotten, but I also wish I was going with her to New York in the fall. I don't want to go to UC Irvine. I really don't. I'm looking forward to leaving the house, but UC Irvine was my back up, definitely NOT where I wanted to go. Now I have no choice.
If I can just pin these feelings to my heart and have them with me always to remind me to work hard the next four years so that I can banish the feelings of disappointment forever.
I went home and talked to M. Dow while editing the photos of Mlle. Jang and I. During the conversation, M. Dow commented on the itchiness of his balls, and I said, "That's lovely. Now scratch them." He read it as I'd scratch them for him. I said I wouldn't scratch them for a thousand dollars. He said all girls were prostitutes; some just had higher prices than others. I got mad and told him off, but he was just joking, and it was just like, damn it; he always does that to me.
Anyways, he said, "My new goal in life is to make you scratch my balls." I was like, hell no and something along the line of his best chance to ever get me to do that was to make me like him. He said he could do it within two months if he was over here. I was like, "I'm NEVER going to scratch your balls. It's NEVER going to happen." And in the midst of the argument, I said if he ever got me to willingly and consciously scratch his balls, I'd throw my cherry in as his reward--if he doesn't have a girlfriend at the time--because I was--am still--THAT confident that this little situation would NEVER happen. He was like, "Deal." Well, not "deal" because we haven't figure what my reward would be if I won. He suggested an epic massage. I said, no, since I would lose something important to me, so he would also need to lose something important to him. He said I could always do him with a strap-on. He showed me what it was, and there's no way in hell am I doing that to another person.
Then we moved on to something else, but he eventually said something like because I was using my virginity as a reward for him, I subconsciously thought about and wanted to lose it. But howweird ironic fitting interesting would it be if I lose it to him, the one person who talks to me about sexual things and such.
He then teased me about how I thought we were falling out. Oh, God. We are definitely NOT falling out now. We video-chatted and got a bit flirty. Just a bit. Not much. Like, if there was a line between the platonic and romantic, I would say we stepped on it that night. Maybe because it was late and my parents were home and the lights were out on both ends and he was in his bed and I in my little dress, but I thought it was a bit intimate. Like, not terribly romantically intimate. We just felt really close. Anyways, I was whispering because I didn't want my parents to hear. He was saying how he was feeling sleepy, since it was 12 AM for me and 3 AM for him, but he didn't want to sleep. Eventually, he was kind of nodding off and asked me to help him have a good night dream. So, I told him a story. "Once a upon a time, there was a nymphomaniac who lived in New York. He was very homophobic and very misogynistic, but one day he woke up and realized that he was actually gay and was very into having sex with a strap-on. He also discovered that he had a diarrhea fetish." At this point, he asked me to stop my pleasant story and asked me to tell him of another one. I did, using myself as the main character. I mapped out how I wanted my life to go. We talked a little bit more and ended call.
My homework remained unfinished.
I've reached the decision that M. Lythgoe is no longer cute. Maybe he was cute last semester, but this semester his facial features look too big for his face. Mlle. Jang rates him a 5. I rate him a 7.
At one point, Mlle. Karch was called up. They announced her school and how much money she got. It was the weirdest feeling. Like, I was so proud of her and what she's gotten, but I also wish I was going with her to New York in the fall. I don't want to go to UC Irvine. I really don't. I'm looking forward to leaving the house, but UC Irvine was my back up, definitely NOT where I wanted to go. Now I have no choice.
If I can just pin these feelings to my heart and have them with me always to remind me to work hard the next four years so that I can banish the feelings of disappointment forever.
I went home and talked to M. Dow while editing the photos of Mlle. Jang and I. During the conversation, M. Dow commented on the itchiness of his balls, and I said, "That's lovely. Now scratch them." He read it as I'd scratch them for him. I said I wouldn't scratch them for a thousand dollars. He said all girls were prostitutes; some just had higher prices than others. I got mad and told him off, but he was just joking, and it was just like, damn it; he always does that to me.
Anyways, he said, "My new goal in life is to make you scratch my balls." I was like, hell no and something along the line of his best chance to ever get me to do that was to make me like him. He said he could do it within two months if he was over here. I was like, "I'm NEVER going to scratch your balls. It's NEVER going to happen." And in the midst of the argument, I said if he ever got me to willingly and consciously scratch his balls, I'd throw my cherry in as his reward--if he doesn't have a girlfriend at the time--because I was--am still--THAT confident that this little situation would NEVER happen. He was like, "Deal." Well, not "deal" because we haven't figure what my reward would be if I won. He suggested an epic massage. I said, no, since I would lose something important to me, so he would also need to lose something important to him. He said I could always do him with a strap-on. He showed me what it was, and there's no way in hell am I doing that to another person.
Then we moved on to something else, but he eventually said something like because I was using my virginity as a reward for him, I subconsciously thought about and wanted to lose it. But how
He then teased me about how I thought we were falling out. Oh, God. We are definitely NOT falling out now. We video-chatted and got a bit flirty. Just a bit. Not much. Like, if there was a line between the platonic and romantic, I would say we stepped on it that night. Maybe because it was late and my parents were home and the lights were out on both ends and he was in his bed and I in my little dress, but I thought it was a bit intimate. Like, not terribly romantically intimate. We just felt really close. Anyways, I was whispering because I didn't want my parents to hear. He was saying how he was feeling sleepy, since it was 12 AM for me and 3 AM for him, but he didn't want to sleep. Eventually, he was kind of nodding off and asked me to help him have a good night dream. So, I told him a story. "Once a upon a time, there was a nymphomaniac who lived in New York. He was very homophobic and very misogynistic, but one day he woke up and realized that he was actually gay and was very into having sex with a strap-on. He also discovered that he had a diarrhea fetish." At this point, he asked me to stop my pleasant story and asked me to tell him of another one. I did, using myself as the main character. I mapped out how I wanted my life to go. We talked a little bit more and ended call.
My homework remained unfinished.
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