The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me. --Ayn Rand



Yesterday I spent over $100 buying alcohol for Christmas Drinks with Drew party (aka my birthday celebration). It should be nice. As soon as I bought them, I went back home and got myself drunk trying different chocolate mixes. Quite delicious indeed. After a little practice, I may just find the perfect nightcap.

Friday the Maltese and I will have a pre-party kick-off where I will get to practice trying to look sexy while mixing drinks. After that, even if I can't mix drinks well, all I will have to do is make two rounds of decent drinks before no one can tell the difference.

In other news, this week I worked on the client side, and it makes me want kill myself with chopsticks. Besides the squatter toilet and the lack of mirrors (how do I fix my hair?), I also have to deal with a one hour commute. I am not being paid enough to deal with smelly buses and subways (yes, I have to take the subway then switch to a bus).

Something has to be done, and now I am having second thoughts about the Barbie Dreamhouse Tally and I are planning to rent. Would I be happier in a place by myself closer to work? A 10 minute bike from work would be ideal.



MM: I've been reading your blog... and I want to know about the Maltese

Even though it is an AIM conversation, knowing that my previous boyfriend is concerned about other guys I meet simply made my day. It reminded me of something I might do. Often, I keep silent tabs on people important to me. Then, when something significant happens I say hello.

Now I'm all warm and fuzzy.

Truth and Lies

Last Thursday I did something I've never done before. A visiting German expressed interest in meeting, so we went out for food, then he asked if I wanted to hang out in his hotel room. Him being a rather well built bottom, I was intrigued.

One movement later and our clothes were off. I was surprised by how clean he was. As soon as everything was over with we immediately tidied up. Cleaning is my second favorite sexual activity.

On a side note, I still consider myself sexually inexperienced, regardless of how sketchy one or two circumstances have been. I'd need to do a lot more than sleep with a German to make up for a life of prudishness. Sometime I'll tell the Maltese--not about the German, but about the prudishness.

Speaking of Maltese...

I told my Minnesotan friend I am kind of dating a man from Malta. He is fine with it, although I suspect when push comes to grind he's going to feel guilty. Without an exclusive definition from the Maltese, I will not conform to couple rules.

Does, "Wait for me," constitute a request for exclusivity?