one month and twelve days until I hug my cat
I called justin this morning at 8, just as I promised, to wake him up. he answered in what I found to be the sexiest voice I'd ever heard from him. "get up," I mumbled into the phone. "I'm up," he slurred back. I imagined him running his hand through his thinning hair and rolling out of bed, and it delighted me in my groggy stupor. "have a good day," I said to him, almost in a housewife tone. he said he'd talk to me later and we hung up- he had to begin his day, doing his community service with clc (what a man), but I got to go back to bed. it took me at least 15 or 20 minutes to get to sleep, since the simple pleasure of hearing justin's morning voice completely delighted me, managing to turn me on after being awake for all of one minute.
no matter what your situation, when you know you're in love with someone, things just turn upside down like that. you don't really know what you're doing, or if you should be doing it, but you keep on with it, completely unwilling to sacrifice one moment of it, because it's a joy you simply refuse to surrender.
here's something I forgot to mention last night:
when ali and I were stuck in traffic on lincoln blvd., we drove past a man riding a bicycle rather erradically. he flailed his arms about in a drunken fashion, and then proceeded to unzip his fly and jam his hand into his pants, and, I kid you not, started beating off furiously in the lane of traffic. I was thankful mom wasn't there to see it, but I could hear her voice in my head, laughing to herself, "only in l.a..."
no matter what your situation, when you know you're in love with someone, things just turn upside down like that. you don't really know what you're doing, or if you should be doing it, but you keep on with it, completely unwilling to sacrifice one moment of it, because it's a joy you simply refuse to surrender.
here's something I forgot to mention last night:
when ali and I were stuck in traffic on lincoln blvd., we drove past a man riding a bicycle rather erradically. he flailed his arms about in a drunken fashion, and then proceeded to unzip his fly and jam his hand into his pants, and, I kid you not, started beating off furiously in the lane of traffic. I was thankful mom wasn't there to see it, but I could hear her voice in my head, laughing to herself, "only in l.a..."