My first ever Writing.com journal. |
pajamas, today. what a bum. we watched "the price is right," actually won several items. he's pretty good, which was refreshing, because i don't know how much anything costs. i never buy walnuts or kitty litter or no-doze. i'm good at the ones where you have to randomly choose the order of some digits to make the correct price, which i credit to intuition alone. the fat black woman won; we cheered. then, discovery channel's "blue planet." we had been watching the makos and orcas, the king squids and sardines for just over an hour when i realized, suddenly, that we had never done anything like that before. he is always moving; rarely, if ever, sits still long enough to watch the entirety of one show, much less two. i hate it but then again that makes it nice, when he does. or when he did, that once. i stretched out on top of him and we talked about swimming and what sea creatures we'd be. (i always figured dolphin, for me, but he called it first, for himself. i started to protest, till he gave his reasons--they're not only smart; they are also playful and friendly and exhibitionistic, they like audiences. he's right, that's him. i took porpoise and we stopped talking about it.) in peaceful moments, and moments when we're learning things about one another/debating funny things just for shits and giggles, i literally cannot imagine how i could ever want anything but to have his babies. which, i guess, is why it's lucky such moments don't happen often. |