|Subject:||La Vie En Rose|
I know I haven't written in a while, breaking a promise to myself, but I'll deal witht he guilt later. So, what's happend to me in the three weeks since my last entry? Wow, three weeks, it went by really fast, but so much has happened, and it's such a short amount of time. Odd, huh?
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I'm absolutely estatic! I've never met anyone like Thomas! He's, well not perfect, no he's not. He's too quick to anger (like me), and he seems easily jealous, and suspicious, and...........okay, I realize to anyone reading this it seems like he spells trouble but when he gets angry it's not frightening anger, it's funny actually. Like, he was having a really bad day yesterday and when we were in the supermarket he dropped the milk and it spilled everywhere so he started yelling at it, and it was hilarious, but when I put my hand on his shoulder and shhed him, he apologized and laughed it off. It wasn't rage, it was just........it can best be described in the phrase " Goddamn you god!" (I'm sorry if that's offends anyone, if it does leave me a nasty note.) (I respect all religions)
Anyway, I'm in love. I don't care if I've only been with him a month and a half. It doesn't matter, all that matters is how I feel now. My poor Dad, honestly, he tries so hard. I keep telling him to stop throwing Paris on me, but he just doesn't get it. I haven't actually told him about Thomas yet.........ahem. I will! Soon.
So, as I was saying.....I was feeling really great about having at least made contact with a very, very, very nice looking man, and funny. I heard him make a joke to his friends as we were entering the building but I supressed the laughter to avoid being labeled as a stalker. So, anyway, I went to my place and started practising but when I was half-way through my long-tones the someone knocked on my door. And lo and behold, it was the guy! Our conversation went as follows:
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G:Hi. I heard you practising. Is that a flute?
J: Oh. Uh, yes it is, actually.(awkward pause)
G: I wanted to apologize for being rude. I was just pissed off at your boyfriend.(weird, eh? who starts an apology like that?)
J: He's not my boyfriend, please get that straight. Do you want to come in?
G: I would.......but I got to go.....unpack.....ya know.......
J:Oh, no problem! Thanks for the apology though. I guess we'll just be good neighbors then.(oh, the shame)
G: Right. Bye. Sorry.
I know, I know. I don't know why I said it. I really wish I hadn't, and I know you're wondering why I am in a good mood, but just hang on. So, after he left, I worked a term paper and practised and then he came back about eight. And he asked if he could come in!
Now, this is the most amazing part. I 'm not a virgin, but I've only had one lover and that was my high school boyfriend, so sex is not a huge part of my life. But I had sex with guy! Whose name is, by the way, Thomas. Isn't that a perfect name? We had sex!!!!! Several times!! We used protection and everything and I'm on the pill, so that's all good! I wrote my last entry just after when he fell asleep, and we've hardly been apart since, I love it so much! He told me he had to come back because there was something magical about me, and he couldn't leave my side. I thought I had struck out, twice but he said he didn't want to screw up with me and he was going to wait, but when he came back we talked for a while and then it just happened. We've been all ove the city, too. Oh! And he plays trumpet like no one I've heard. Brilliance. I think I'm in love,but I hardly know him.
My grandmother always said though, that if you love someone, all you need to know is that you love them. Not always true, but oh well!
|Subject:||Happiness IS a Fish You Can Catch!|
This past few days have been the best I have ever experienced in my entire stay on this planet!!! I think I shall begin at the beginning.......
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So, on Sunday, I had a lunch date with Father and Paris. They booked it in this overpriced, haughty french restaurant that made THE BEST caesar salad I have ever tasted. It was incredible, the greens were still crisp, yet completely covered in the dressing,(definately not low fat, but when you're eating the caesar salad worthy of God Himself, you wouldn't care either)and the croutons were perfection! It was a little zesty from the lemon, making it slightly different than other restaurants, and a perfect, medium sized helping. In any case, when our server came and brought us our food, naturally I asked him to compliment the chef on the salad. I thought I was being polite and grateful, it seemed perfectly innocent, and he even smiled and said he was glad I enjoyed my appetizer, but when I turned back to the table Father and Paris were looking at me with their jaws on the table.
Apparently, in this particular restaurant, the chef despises being complimented and will refuse service to any who do so. How ridiculous is that? Not wanting to hear praise. Tsk tsk tsk, Chef Henri. Thankfully, our server(God of a man that he is) didn't extend my praise to Henri, so we were spared that.
Well, after lunch, Paris drove me to my building and just as he was leaning in for the big kiss,(God knows why, it
wasn't even a date, for chrissakes) this man fell on the hood of his car while catching a fishbowl. LMAO! Of course, Paris flipped out and started yelling obscenties at the poor guy. Then we both had to get out of the car, and I was yelling at Paris and the guy was just watching us both yell with a deer in headlights kind of look, until FINALLY two of the guys friend came over and led him away. Then Paris had the nerve to try to kiss me again like I hadn't just called him a bleeping bleep bleep!!
By then I was very pissed off so I ran after the guy and stopped him, our conversation went as follows:
J: About that......... He had no call to wail on you like that.
G: Whatever. Look I'll pay for any damages to your boyfriend's car-
J:No! He's not my boyfriend...he's nothing, just nothing. I am sorry, though.
G:(shrug, followed by awkward pause)
J:So, are you moving in? Or out?
G: In. I got a job in the bakery a couple blocks away.
J: Oh. Do you need a hand?
J:Oh.(awkward pause)So, bye now.
G:Yeah. See ya round.
I probably should explain that I am not very attractive. Perhaps I have an ugly duckling sort of charm, but not hot to be sure. Why I would make an ideal trophy wife is beyond me but anyway. Maybe if I looked like Jennifer Connelly and had a girl next door charm he would have needed my help, but anyway.
THere's more to my little story, but not tonight. Tomorrow-days.
|Subject:||The Most Important Historical Event of This Week|
What is the Most Important Historical Event of This Week, you ask?
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It can only be my first entry ever recorded on Blurty. I only wish I had something extremely memorable to say......
uld I explain why I am starting this journal? I need an online diary where no one knows me. Anonymity is a beautiful thing. As well, I am tired of accidently creating riffs between friends and lovers, it's much too complicated.
I guess I may as well treat this as a real entry as my opening ceremony plans fell through.
My father who shall remain nameless as a very big business entrepeneur, is on me to *meet* a collegue of his, who shall go my the name Paris. (For those of you who haven't figured it out, my favorite play is Romeo and Juliet. And yes, my name really is Juliette)
I cannot stand Paris. His arrogance is almost as overpowering as his cologne, stetson, I believe. How typical. Those two have it in their heads that I could make the ideal trophy wife for Paris and his fortune, probably made using something completely wicked. Today over brunch, Father suggested I accompany him to one of his business meetings, aka lunch on Sunday with Paris. Clever, Dad.
Perhaps, he means well. Perhaps, he just wants me to be happy and not lonely. Perhaps, he loves me and not his business assets. Or, perhaps he needs like he needs a fancy cocktail party for a new client, just something to tie (ty, tye?) everything together. A tool to bind Paris and his deal to him. Very manipulative, daddy is.
All this talk of selling my future is unnerving. I shall escape to my flute and my sorrows.
Fare thee well, good citizens of Verona!
(don't hate me for that)