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Waking up in her soft bed sheets. She had to attend a few TCC classes but she jumps on top of me and begins the baby language...“Ejhabooboo.Ejhabooboo.” Clamoring all over me with love. She convinces me to shower with her...
Back at the house.
Cinnamon Oatmeal with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Cranberries, Banana, and Milk. Orange Juice. Zinc (50 mg).
Writing. Researching. Editing.
Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Oolong Tea.
Business. Planning. Emails.
Practicing an old song on guitar.
Organizing music files.
Dinner: Salmon and Black Beans with Onions, Broccoli, Green Peppers, Cabbage, Carrots, and Bread and Butter.
Continuing my organization.
Making Chocolate Chip Cookies from scratch. I think I tried this one another time before but this time was a success. Nicole and this girl Sara Smith come over to rehearse this Copeland song we’ll be playing tomorrow at Amanda Paramore’s birthday party.
Earlier I had to hear shit from Margot in reference to an experience I had with a girl I met in England. She read about it from my blog entry I posted today. I didn’t kiss nor do anything sexual with this girl. It was truly a casually encounter except for the fact I slept in the same bed with her. But I didn’t really tell Margot about it and she felt I hid it from her. I didn’t feel it was important or worth telling because while I was on tour Margot emailed me that she had drunkenly made out with a guy. So what she’s upset about with me has no backing compared to what she did. Before I left the country it was understood we were still single even though we had been seeing each other, but we also made it clear to be honest if anything did happen. I wasn’t too worried. I didn’t have anything to hide.
Her: “I can’t stand imagining you with someone else...I’m still upset. I’ve been through a lot with you. I’m severely scarred.”
Me: “we have been through what seems like a lifetime. there will always be scars and stains. but we have to know how to clean it up and press on darling.”
Her: “I feel like you lied to me by not telling me everything. I just want you to cuddle with me. No other fucking whore of a bitch gets to be pressed against you like that.”
Me: “i just didn’t feel like it was important or worth telling since nothing sexual or even kissing happened. it was very casual. but you’re right no other whore of a bitch is allowed to be pressed against me. got it.”
Her: “damn straight.”
...
Her: “Come over and show me how much you love me.”
I head over and she’s unusually hyped up on hormones or something. I guess she’s just feeling a little insecure and needs extra loving care and attention from me. I don’t mind providing. Sexually I feel a little dried up but we go at it anyway and it’s good nonetheless.
She repeats this a few times after I finish...“I just want your sex all the time...”
Her: “I love you so much.”
Me: “I know. I love you too.”
Adorable is her middle name when she’s lying in a bed slithering under the sheets. It’s one of those times she really brings to reality that poem by John Keats where he says, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”
Back home. Practicing guitar.
Sleep 4 a.m.
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