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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/371225-Junior
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #911202
My first ever Writing.com journal.
#371225 added September 7, 2005 at 1:21am
Restrictions: None
Junior
dave was fantastic. amazing. everything i expected, plus who knew i'd want to have sex with him after "hunger for the great light of love." rock star dave. carnal dave who wants to see a woman open wide, et cetera. boyd's body is a treasure offset only by the unfortunate horsishness of his face. for the three hours before and the eight hours after we arrived in jackson, mississippi, every station within a thirty-mile radius was experiencing a moratorium on gas sales. so we slept in the car, in our clothes, in a kroger parking lot. and i peed behind a liquor store, which was embarrassing but more convenient than what would have happened if we'd been about two hundred miles further south. chuck's mom, who let us stay at her house, was fat and homey and totally hospitable; i might actually like the south better than the east coast, something to think about. lots of other road trippy details, blah blah, and we got to eat at cracker barrel, and we only met one blatantly racist man, in an alleyway, also in mississippi.

those are a few of the trip's positive highlights. and i'm not going to delve into the negatives.

dave was great great great.

my other gift to him was a guitar. i like to outdo myself every year. i feel confident that i succeeded, this time. i told him all i want for my birthday is to feel like there's nowhere he'd rather be than with me, for like two or three hours. we'll see if it happens. anyway, though, he got his dave and he has his guitar, and having provided both gives me this warm feeling that i can't describe. he has one more thing coming, later, and that prospect warms me up too.

so, that.

i can't tell whether melony is enjoying "junior." there are a lot of things about her that i don't yet understand, like whether it actually makes her mad that i sometimes forget to leave a walkway to her side of the room, or whether she expects me to pretend i don't notice that my television is always on a different channel when i get back from class than it was when i left the room...things like that. sweet girl, harmless and giggly with giant breasts, but i hope we're making as good an impression on one another as we'd like to be.

also, last night i had that dream again, the one i had right before marcus crossed, about sex under a waterfall. this time with "hunger for the great light of love" blasting from speakers nearby.

i'm boring tonight. a little bored, too. i've tried to do that soundtrack thing like nine times, and have repeatedly failed. i can't be fucked to try to separate the ones that actually represent me from the ones i just like, so it's become stale and futile to even try. i want to be totally self-indulgent and turn "shannon is living on a diet consisting of mainly meat, broccoli and salad," or whatever, into a slightly longer story, just to make myself smile, because i could really use that. back at home, i've got at least a dozen spirals full of stuff like that, and on holidays i go home and read them, and i need some of those for here, because i don't get to go home for a long, long time.

if you were affected by the hurricane, even indirectly, you have my sympathy and wishes and all. i was in mississippi, louisana and texas and that was more than close enough to appreciate how awful things are. hence i count my blessings, and try to collect fodder for a slightly better journal entry, coming soon (hopefully).

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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/371225-Junior