February 27th, 2005


Just because I slept with the guy doesn't mean I slept with him. Yeesh.

At some point during the kiss, he became my boyfriend. We weren't in a relationship when our lips met, but by the time we pulled apart I was his girl.
It would be terrible if I was rebounding or if he's just horny and our messing around costs us the friendship. I fear that a bit, as well as the effect this news may have on Sailor - although he probably already knows, he's quite good at predicting things like that.

I spent the night at Seanie's house.
Since I've already had to clarify this twice I'd like to say that no, sex was not involved. I'm not that much of a whore.
Between his mother's roaming the house with a killer case of insomnia and the novelty of sharing the bed with another person, we didn't sleep so much as catnap. I suppose I can try to blame the decision to submit to the inevitable labels on a lack of sleep and midnight incoherency. (Additionally, we had just watched the Simpsons, Harvey Birdman, and Japanese Super Ninja Turtles, in that exact order. It can't be good for mental health.)
I don't know what I think about the labels. Part of me never wants to be anyone's girlfriend again. Part of me wants to jump back on the relationship horse and ride it to the ground. Sometimes I just need someone to tell me that I'm pretty. Sometimes I just gotta geek around watching stupid shows with my head resting on a shoulder. (Or a belly. Bellies make great pillows.) But if heads is joking around with your best friend and tails is messing around with your lover the coin has to eventually land and you call it. You can't just keep it suspended in midair, refusing to make a decision. (Unfortunately. That would be neat.) (Also, like most of metaphors that didn't work at all. Shaddup.)

In the morning Seanie made eggs, and I was impressed because he puts waaaaay more effort into them than I do. (Guys are like that; they make fancy eggs because they want to impress you but it's all they can cook.)
How Sammie Makes Eggs
1. Crack eggs.
2. Dump eggs into buttered pan.
3. Leave mess to sizzle while I smash the eggshells, because when I was a child I was told that witches will use the halves of eggshells to sail across the world to wherever you are and kidnap you and sell you or eat you.
4. When eggs are no longer runny, I dump them between two pieces of toast and eat them.
How Seanie Makes Eggs
1. Crack eggs.
2. Mix eggs with milk.
3. Dump eggs into buttered pan (but much neater than Sammie would.)
4. Babysit the eggs, thoughtfully adding flavorful touches like cheese, pepper, salt, meat and whatever other crap he tossed in there while I was playing with the toaster.
5. Neatly plate the finished eggs.
I'm far too lazy to bother with all that. I gotta admit it tastes much better his way, tho'.