Friday, May 29, 2015

did anyone actually go to those? (amsterdam part i)

Amsterdam was sooooooo over the top and lovely, I am really pissed that we are back home. We left last Wednesday (after lunch at RPM and a billion champagne cocktails), and the flight wasn't even that horrible. I am not a good flier, which is weird, because I've traveled a fair amount for someone my age. But honestly, with J next to me, I barely even got freaked out during turbulence. We snuggled up together and watched the same movies and tv shows on our little screens and I even napped for like, ten minutes. Which, considering how I used to fly (doped up on tons of xanax and wine), was pretty good.

When we got there Thursday morning, we were able to check into our hotel and shower. The room was super nice, tons of natural light and intuitive design--there was no direct overhead light or lamp, everything was backlit and lit from underneath so it was a very soothing visual effect. I would notice this whenever we were back in the room and I was stoned, which was admittedly most of the time we were in the room. Shockingly, we weren't dead from jet lag.

"What do you wanna do first, lovebug?" J asked, crossing his arms and pulling his teeshirt up and over his head. We were going to take showers and then head into the city since neither of us felt like napping.

"This is so bad, but I desperately want a smoke. I'm like gnawing my hands off over here," I whined, sitting down on the giant bed and rubbing my feet. They were swollen from the plane (ew) and my Frye boots were making my toes numb. J laughed, fortunately.

"No, baby, that's what I'd like to do too. I know just the place," he paused, going into the bathroom "we'll leave very soon." From the inside of the room, I heard him humming as he got into the shower. The bathroom had like, zero privacy and I realized I could hear everything (and see most everything--the walls were frosted glass) once he'd been in there for about ten seconds.

Half an hour later, we walked into the first coffeeshop that I'd ever been to. J walked up to the counter and we picked a strain (it tasted like strawberries) and bought some pre-rolled joint cones that you just had to fill with the shredded weed.

As someone who smokes a lot (every day, a few times), the pot in Amsterdam blew me out of the fucking water. It was insanely strong, and very tasty. I felt like my face was numb after we'd smoked half the joint. J was looking at my face and talking, but I had no idea what he was saying and I just started laughing. He stopped talking and grabbed my chin and kissed me very lightly on the lips. I moaned a little bit and buried my face in his neck, and felt his arms wrap around me. I could have gone to sleep if we hadn't been inside the coffeeshop, there was music playing kinda loudly and weird lights going on and off. Coffeeshops are a little bit like clubs, but most of them don't serve alcohol, so they're like those weird teen clubs that you see on beach boardwalks and stuff. Did anyone actually go to those?

Once we'd smoked and I'd drunk a bottle of peach nectar, J stroked my hair and asked if I wanted to walk around. I was so high that I just put my sunglasses back on and grabbed his hand and followed him mutely out of the Prix D'Ami and down some of the canal sidestreets. We took a super long walk (like 4 hours), and I kept pausing to take pictures and selfies of us. I started whining about my feet hurting again (fucking boots) and pouted until J said he was hungry, and we found a little sidewalk cafe for lunch. After we ate, we were strolling back towards the direction of the hotel when we passed another coffeeshop that we just HAD to stop in. I was reading these posters on the wall (the whole place was done in blacklight, so the words were a little fuzzy and weird), when I felt a hand on the small of my back.


"Babydoll, it says magic mushrooms are legal here, too. What do you think?" J whispered in my ear, reaching his other hand under my sweater and petting my back.

"Ahh, that's interesting. I dunno, it could be fun? We should research before we buy, though. You've tripped before, right?"

"Yeah, but it's been maybe 5 years," he hesitated "and I've never had a really strong trip."

"It hasn't been that long for me--maybe like a year and a half?" I paused, thinking out loud, "but I think we'll be fine, we'll just get something that isn't too strong. Wouldn't it be cool to trip and go see the Keukenhof Gardens? All those flowers?"

"Baby!! Yes! That's such a good idea," he kissed the side of my neck and I shuffled closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder.

"I'm so beat. Do you want to nap after this? We can set an alarm and get up for dinner later," I suggested, gazing at his face to see his reaction. His forehead was wrinkled slightly in concentration from trying to roll the joint. Awww. My husband is so freaking adorable.

"We can lay down, it's pretty early," J stifled a yawn. "We'd feel much better tomorrow if we were able to get some sleep today."

We went back to the hotel to sleep, and once I closed the blackout curtains and got in bed, my mind started going. I didn't think I'd be able to sleep--I kept hearing these groups of kids laughing outside of our window--but the next thing I knew, it was 7pm and the alarm I'd set was going off. I rolled over and started kissing J all over his neck and shoulders and chest until he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me on top of him, then started stroking my back. I realized that we'd been on honeymoon for like 12 hours already and hadn't fucked, so I thought it would be a good idea to start going down on him, but when I was kissing his chest and making my way down, I heard the loudest stomach rumble I've ever heard and started laughing.

"Aw, baby, I'm sorry. We should probably eat?" I looked up, hopefully. J was laughing, but hiding his face behind his hands.

"Yes, food soon, definitely. Come here, prettygirl," he pulled me up so I was resting back on his chest and then gently rolled me on my back. I was able to start getting up when I felt him pull one of my legs to the side and hold it between his knees, then lightly drag his fingers around my nipple. It felt so good, I absolutely love being touched like that all the time. Which is funny, because I didn't used to be a very cuddly person but I am apparently clingy as hell now. W/e.

We fooled around for a while and eventually got up, dragging ourselves outside into the bright sunlight. I couldn't believe that it still looked like it was just after noon and it was close to 8pm at that point. I guess I've never been this far north in the summer.

J had the idea of walking down a few blocks to the red light district and finding a coffeshop there. It was sooo pretty in the late evening--lots of sunlight through all the trees along the canal, lots of sunlight sparkling off the water, etc. I thought the canals would be really disgusting and smelly, but they were actually pretty clean looking, I didn't see very much litter.

"Baby!! Boats!" I grabbed J's arm and ran a few feet down the street, pointing at an open boat with a full bar on board and lots of cushions.

"Do you want to do that now?" We'd talked about things in Amsterdam to do before leaving, and an open boat canal cruise was kinda at the top of my list. I love boats (sorry Reese) and I love drinking on them.

"We should come back," I pressed closer to J and whispered, "I kinda want to smoke first."

J grinned at me. "Sounds good, baby. There's a place right over here."

This coffeeshop was basically like something out of an American college movie from the 90s. It was called The Bulldog (later I found out that it was part of a series of chains), and there were tons of drunk  college kids hanging around outside. This one girl kept trying to start a fight with these dudes who were sitting down on a bench opposite her, and it was making me nervous. It also made me feel really old and awkward, ew.

The inside of The Bulldog was really dark and loud, much more so than the other places we'd been that day. Once we bought a gram, we took it over to a counter and I started rolling a joint alongside bae so we wouldn't have to stay in there that long. For some reason it made me nervous, but I was probably just being a paranoid tourist. Overall, the city felt really safe to me. I think it was just being inside a huge crowd of people that happened to be extremely fucked up at the time.

We took a boat cruise after we smoked. I was planning to wait until tomorrow, but we left the coffeeshop and there was another one of those same open boats with all the cushions there, and the people giving the cruises said we could have all the free drinks we wanted, I think it was the last one of the day that they were running. It wound up being my favorite touristy thing we did while we were there.

This really pretty girl tourguide helped me onto the boat, and we headed for the stern so we could lay down on the cushions and snuggle. I knew that we were being really shameless and gross about PDA, which again, really used to bother me, but I figure we only get one honeymoon, might as well do whatever we want. Then again, J and I apply that logic to many areas of our lives, so it shouldn't really be surprising that we don't have a ton of friends.

I can't really recommend the boat thing enough. We got to lay back on cushions while stoned and stare at gorgeous buildings and drink cocktails for over an hour, and we were one of only three other couples on the boat. Plus the guide was not very chatty--it was definitely one of the "relaxing" versus "educational" boat cruises that we could have taken, and no one cared that we were basically in each other's laps the whole time.

After the boat cruise, it was close to 10pm and still light outside. I couldn't believe it, and I was a little tired from travel still, but feeling really good. We were still a little high from smoking before, and decided to head to an Argentinean steakhouse for dinner. J really likes to order for me when we go out, which I think is cute, but would be very annoyed with anyone else doing similar. He ordered me peppered lamb medallions with a garlicky sauce and a Heineken, which I loved. The waitress got annoyed with us because we were holding hands over the table and making eyes at each other and not paying attention, but instead of being embarrassed, I was just happy.

"I love you," I said quietly, resting my head on J's shoulder. We were standing on a bridge over one of the canals after dinner, watching the lights blink on for the first time. It was finally dark, and a little chillier now that the sun had gone down. I felt J's hand slip into mine and squeeze.

"I love you very much, babydoll. Please don't ever leave," he said into my hair, kissing me on the temple.

"I never could." I wiggled a little closer and felt him sigh.

"How tired are you, love?"

"Not very, let's do one more errand before we retire for the evening," I looked at J and raised my eyebrows. He smiled, and followed me as I walked off the bridge and started going back towards the hotel. I stopped walking when we were in front of a smartshop, decorated with more black light art and awful mushroom kitsch. We headed in, and I walked to the counter in the back.

"Good evening," the guy behind the counter greeted us, spreading his hands out over the counter. "What can I do for you?"

"Hi," we both smiled, "do you sell magic truffles?"

Friday, May 15, 2015

i almost killed my husband

“So, ha. I heard from Patrick today,” I began, somewhat cautiously. We were laying on the couch, watching Daredevil on Netflix, my head on J’s lap.

“Oh yeah?” I looked up at his face, but his eyes were on the screen, not looking down at me. Still, I kept going.

“Uh, yeah. He told me this really awkward and creepy story about how he took this girl home and they were fooling around. She was apparently into it, but not really reciprocating. So he goes to fuck her, and she absolutely flips out and stops him and said she hadn’t been enjoying any of it and that she was going to call the cops if he didn’t leave. He got really freaked out and left, and he’s pretty shaken up. I think he feels like he assaulted her.” Just retelling the story gave me kind of a bad taste in my mouth. I looked up at J again, and he was looking down into my eyes with a slightly disturbed expression on his face.

“Yeah, that’s legitimately weird. Did anything else happen?”

“No, but that’s pretty typical for him, now. He gets into a lot of weird situations.”

“That’s slightly more rapey than weird,” J started, and I had to stop myself from cutting him off and defending Patrick.

Patrick and I still talk very, very occasionally. A few months ago, in the late winter, J and I got into kind of a huge fight over respective exes. I had been trying (really, I swear) to get over turning into this insanely jealous freak whenever he’d mention Jane, but it had just gotten worse. Eventually, I asked him to stop talking to her. He didn’t take that very well at first, and we fought about it for like two days. I had to admit that it was causing a lot of stress and mental havoc on me, and he got it and they don’t talk anymore. Then he pretty much asked me to stop keeping Patrick on a very distant leash, which was harder for me to even realize I was doing. But yeah, you probably shouldn’t skype your ex at 11pm after you’ve had four glasses of wine and you’re not wearing pants.

Anyway, every time I bring Patrick up, it can be kind of a landmine situation. But I realize that now, at least. And I did bring him up for a reason this time.

“Mmn, yeah. It’s bizarre, but those are the kind of things he gets himself into now. He’s like.. compulsive,” I wrinkled my nose,  thinking of other ‘stories’ Patrick had told me. “He cruises for guys and hooks up with them now, too. And he’s not gay,”

“Are you sure he’s not gay?”

“I dunno. I used to be. But it doesn’t really matter now. I think he just keeps doing more and more daring shit because he’s gotten bored with everything else.”

“Well, yeah, that’s textbook addict,” J started stroking my hair, and I rolled on my side and snuggled closer into his lap.

“It makes me sad. He used to be this really cool, smart, nice person who took risks but wasn’t a complete ass about everything. And now I don’t even know him anymore, and I definitely don’t want to be friends with the person he’s become,” I finished, unable to keep the slightest hint of whine out of my voice. It did make me really sad. I’ve known Patrick for about 6 years now, and he’s changed so much. We wouldn’t be friends if we met for the first time now.

“I’m glad you’re realizing that, lovebug. But I know how hard it is to watch someone you care about fall into that trap.” I held my breath for a moment, and was relieved when J didn’t start talking about his ex. 

He can be really moralizing sometimes, but not in a way that’s supposed to make me feel bad. But we definitely feel  differently about certain things and behaviors of the past. Like, I don’t really feel bad about prior drug use. I mean, I know it’s bad. But it’s over and done with, and I don’t really feel tempted to go back to doing anything. J, on the other hand, wrestles pretty constantly with the fact that he still feels addicted to coke, which he kicked a few years ago. I think he takes the situation more seriously than I do.

Anyway, after that weird story that Patrick told me, it was really hard for me to think of a compelling reason to stay friends with him. We have nothing in common anymore, and he doesn’t show any signs of maturity. If anything, he’s regressed soooo much since I met him. He used to be super responsible. I haven’t told him yet (do you really need to break up with a friend? Or do you just kind of let things fall apart on their own?), I’m not sure I will say anything.

The weird thing about being married is that it actually does feel different, but not in the ways I was expecting it to. Like before, I’ve always operated under the thought that whatever relationship I’m in could very well be temporary. Most things are. But now it feels like I want to make things work so we can have a good marriage and stay together and not fight. It makes me think twice before snapping at him or doing something bitchy. Like, the day after we got married, my parents were still in town and they wanted to hang out. So we took one of those architectural boat tours on the Chicago River with them. One of the buildings that the guide pointed out this super nice building and J leaned over and told me that Jane used to live there. My first instinct was to get super huffy and pissy and I kind of yanked my hand away from him. But then I realized how much of a giant fucking bad idea it would be to get mad at him for saying that. I still mention my exes offhandedly all the time, and it’s not like he did it to hurt me. After a minute or two, I cuddled back up to him and he didn’t even know that I’d been freaking the fuck out for all of 30 seconds. It’s embarrassing to mention this, but I was prouder of myself than I should have been for that. Baby steps, y’all. 

Money also feels different, because we put most of our paychecks into a shared account. J let me use our shared account ("really, go nuts") to go shopping the other night, and I felt kind of bad about that, but not really. I make more than he does, which I think would probably be an issue for a lot of people but apparently not us. I've asked him like a million times if it bothers him, and he says no, but I honestly can't tell if he's lying or not. I have a feeling presents are about to get a lot less exciting, though :( 


Last night, my two favorite coworkers (Kevin and Danielle) took me out for some drinks. I was really good and only had four beers, but somehow I still felt really drunk and kinda sleepy. Then I remembered that I forgot to eat lunch--fucking amateur mistake.

"Baaaaaby!" I sang from the foyer, "I'm going to make you such a yummy last meal!" J is having a little surgery this weekend, so this would be his last solid food until Saturday afternoon.

"Aw, that's nice, but you don't need to. I had a big lunch,"  J was eyeing me, smiling as I hopped around trying to yank off one of my combat boots.

"No!! You spoil me rotten, this is absolutely the least I can do," I flashed him a big grin and started dashing around in the kitchen, pulling various things out of the fridge. We still had a ton of stuff from our trip to the Asian grocery store, so I settled on making a pork belly ragu with pappardelle.

I don't know if I've ever actually mentioned this before, but now would be a good time to bring up the fact that I only eat fish, not meat. I've been on this diet for almost 3 years, and it works pretty well. I cheat sometimes (mostly for steak), but overall I don't really miss meat. So you could easily assume that I'm really not all that great at cooking things other than fish/seafood.

"Someone's in a good mood," J murmured into my neck, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind as I was slicing the pork belly into medallions. I couldn't help giggling and pushing my butt up against him.

"Honeybaby, can you get me some wine?"

"Of course, love," He grabbed one of my new wine glasses (wedding presents rock) and handed it back to me full of rosé. 

"Are you okay? You're being really quiet," I asked, stirring the pieces of pork belly in a flat pan with some butter, parsley, salt, and minced garlic. 

"Yeah.. I'm fine, it's not you. I'm a little depressed about having this procedure done," J said, offhandedly. 

"Aw baby, I'm sorry. It'll be over really quickly, and we'll be on vacation really soon," I tried, in a hopeful tone. J wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, lovebug." He kissed me on my temple and retreated to the living room, bottle of vodka in hand. 

I felt bad, I didn't mean to sound so patronizing. At least I was making a good dinner. 

Shockingly, when the food was done, I wasn't even hungry anymore. I tried a piece of the pork belly to make sure it was done/tasted good, and brought J a huge bowl on the couch. I thought for sure that he'd be too bummed out to eat very much, but he ate the whole thing and went back for seconds as I was getting more wine. 

"I'm really glad you liked it, baby," I smiled, kissing his cheek as he refilled his bowl. 

"Yes, holy shit, this is so amazing. I love you. You're such a good cook," he smiled back, winking at me, and headed back over to the couch. I love being told I'm a good cook, especially by someone who is also amazing in the kitchen. 

After J finished eating, I nibbled on part of a nectarine and didn't really clean up the dishes. We turned out the lights and started a movie, and I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, it was 11pm and all the lights were off. I was still on the couch, and J was laying next to me, wrapped up in a blanket. 

Aww. Bae wanted to sleep next to me even though I wasn't in bed.

"Ohmygod, shit. I'm so sorry!!!" I heard a wince, and J slowly woke up, blinking at me in the semidarkness. 

"It's okay, honey. Let's go to bed," he started getting up and walking off to the bedroom. 

"Did you try to make me move to bed earlier?" 

"Oh, yes. Many times. You were quite adamant about staying on the couch." 

Oh, shit. Drunk me is the worst. I felt really horrible, and kept apologizing, but J just said it was fine and that he wanted to go back to sleep. So we cuddled up and I took a pill and passed out. But then I woke up again at 2, extremely dehydrated, and saw that J was wide awake, staring at the ceiling. 

"Babe? Are you ok?"

"Not really. I'm in a lot of pain," he winced, grabbing his stomach. 

"Honey! Have you been like this all night?" 

"Unfortunately," he groaned, rolling over onto his side. 

"Was it the pasta? I'm so sorry," I cried out, burying my face in the pillows. J kept groaning quietly from the other side of the bed. He eventually got up and went to the bathroom, and I started flipping through my phone to make sure I'd stay awake until he got back. After like half an hour went by, I got up and knocked cautiously on the bathroom door. 

"I'm fine, honey. I'm just going to stay in here for now. It's easier."

"Okay. I'm really, really sorry. I feel so horrible," I pressed my forehead up against the door. 

"It's alright, just please go back to sleep. I don't want you to feel bad in the morning."

So I went back to bed after that, and he must have slept in the bathroom. I feel so bad that I gave him food poisoning (probably?) or whatever from that pasta, though. I'm a fucking horrible wife. :(

I probably won’t post next Tuesday, because we’re leaving for honeymoon on Wednesday and I’ve got a lot of shopping to do between now and then so I look cute in all of our selfies. So next post will be on the 29th, after we get back. Do y’all want pictures??

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

I got married in flip flops from Walgreens.

I definitely didn't forget that I have a blog, but I did keep making up all these convenient excuses as to why I wouldn't have to write, which is a super bad habit that I really need to get myself out of at this point. For a couple of weeks, it was actually valid, because we moved and got married and now we're getting ready to go to Amsterdam next week for honeymoon and new jobs and bleh, all of that.

A couple of things before I catch y'all up. I know that some of you follow me on Twitter/Instagram now, where you've probably discovered in about 2 seconds that Johnathan's name isn't really Johnathan. I thought about changing it in the blog, but I think for continuity I will just keep referring to him as J, since his real first name starts with that letter anyway, and I always call him by his full name (unless I'm pissed, then I call him "husband" or "hey you").

Also, not sure what kind of posting schedule I can stick to in the future. It would be soooo great to get back to Tuesdays and Fridays.. so for now, I'm gonna try. We're leaving for Amsterdam next Wednesday and coming home on the 26th, so aside from that week, I'll see how things go and then maybe re-evaluate in a while.

So! Actual catching up. Towards the end of April, we moved into this really adorable loft in Boystown. I am basically obsessed with it, and was a complete hag about unpacking everything super fast so it would look presentable and not like a shitty bachelor pad. Surprisingly, J was extremely helpful and also almost as freakish as I was, so it didn't take that long. But it looks adorable now, so all of that OCD mess and fighting in West Elm was worth it.

Getting married was not actually that awesome. There was a fucking parade on the day we drove downtown to go to the courthouse, and city hall was packed so we stood in line. It mostly felt like trying to keep my mom from making any snarky comments (my mom should seriously write commentary for a celebrity/paparazzi blog), or at least trying to make sure no one else heard her. There was a girl there in this white lace romper and super cute espadrilles and my mom meant to whisper that she looked really trashy except she said it really loudly and everyone heard and it was the most mortifying fucking thing. Then the heel of my shoe broke (first time wearing them!) and I made my mom go to the Walgreens across the street from city hall and buy me flip flops because I couldn't walk in the broken shoe. So I got married in flip flops from Walgreens. #Yolo.

The best part of the day was when J's mom dropped us off at The Drake afterwards, which was also kind of awkward because she knew I was about to go screw her son's brains out. But oh well. At least we were alone. Finally. I wish I had more fun things to tell about our wedding night, but it wasn't a great night. I was absolutely exhausted from not sleeping the night before, and the room service was horrible (except for a really good cheese plate, props for that), and being in a hotel felt more like a burden than a fun thing. I kept asking J if he was sure he didn't want to go home and being disappointed when he said no.

I honestly don't know why everyone says their wedding day is the best day of their lives. I love being married (it's awesome, seriously), but the actual wedding just basically felt like trying to babysit my mom's horrendously judgy mouth (she complained about everything: trashy girls in the courthouse, the restaurant I picked, my stepdad's shoes, etc.) and make sure no one got in a fight/was unhappy. I'm so glad it's over, no joke. I can't wait to go to Amsterdam.

All of last week (and the week before, if I'm being really honest here), I was super depressed about a lot of things. But one of the reasons was because I feel like our sex life has kind of sucked recently. We've both been so stressed out with work and moving and getting married that we were just kind of doing the really horrible thing where you reach for your partner at the end of the night, right before you fall asleep. And I love really slow drowsy sex sometimes. But not all the fucking time. So on Friday, I texted J: "we have soooo much catching up to do this weekend. I am not letting you leave bed on Saturday"

"I know, baby. I can't wait." he typed back, a few minutes later. And I know this is crazy because I'm the one who said it first, but it really sucked that he was agreeing with me about needing to catch up. I was glad I was sober because if I'd been drunk and he'd have said that, it would have made me cry. Since I was sober, though, it just made me determined.

Saturday morning, I woke up around 7. J was still asleep, so I reached for my phone and started scrolling through Instagram. I had barely even gotten a chance to critique everyone's food pictures when I felt his hand around my wrist.

"Hey, there," I croaked, before wincing slightly. My voice never wants to let me be sexy in the mornings. Instead of saying anything, J reached out with his other hand and grabbed my phone, tossing it down onto the floor, but not letting go of my wrist. I raised my eyebrows at him and wriggled a little closer on the bed, but before I could move much, he sprung up on his knees and grabbed my other wrist, pinning my hands above my head.

"You missed me?" he asked, and I instinctively looked down. He was already hard, and I managed to whimper out a little 'yes' before he transferred both of my wrists to one of his hands and used the other hand to grab my hip and pull me down so I was lying flat on my back.

"I missed you too, but this is why sleeping naked is good for that," he leaned down and started lighting biting my neck and shoulders. It felt so good, I didn't even want him to stop because I couldn't remember how long it had been since we actually had foreplay. He kissed all the way down my chest and stomach, licking the inside of my belly button and my thighs. I kept arching my back up and moaning and whimpering and begging him to eat me out, but eventually he yanked my leg to the side, got in between my hips, and just slid in. We didn't stop until I'd come twice and my legs were shaking, I was biting at the side of his neck so hard that he had a bruise before we were even done.

"What do you wanna do today, baby?" I asked, resting my face on his chest and inhaling his scent. I don't think I'm ever going to get sick of doing that.

"Well, we need food. Let's hit Joong Boo and get sushi and soft shell crabs and whatever else strikes your fancy, princess." He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

"Yeahh.. as long as we can come back here and get drunk before too much longer," I pouted. I love food but I hate grocery shopping. Even when we take a cab.

"We're not leaving right this second," J murmured, reaching down and stroking his finger between my butt cheeks before slipping inside of me, making me gasp. "I want this again, first..."

So after we were indeed very sore, we went and bought sushi and then I made a fuss because I didn't actually want to make it. So he mostly made dinner, and it was wonderful. I made some salmon nigiri, and I was really proud of how I got the little seaweed strip to stay on. J made spicy rolls with shrimp tempura and soft shell crab and avocado and they were fucking delicious.

That night, we were falling asleep, and I pulled J really close so we could snuggle. It's really easy for me to fall asleep with one of his legs in between both of mine, my arm wrapped around him, and my head on his chest, so that's exactly the position I got into. It hadn't been more than a minute when I felt his hand stroking down my back, and it tickled, so I sort of shoved my crotch against his thigh. That felt really good, though. We were pretty drunk and had also smoked a bunch earlier, which is the only reason why I think I could have sex more than three times in one day. I pulled myself closer, and started gently licking and kissing his neck. Amazingly, J tolerated this for a few minutes before rolling me on my back and spreading my legs. I arched my back up and settled into the pillows, thinking he was going to go down on me, but instead he settled on his knees and spread my legs, rubbing at my clit gently with one finger.

"Come here, I want you," I tried tugging him closer, but he resisted, and gave me what I think was his version of my pout face.

"Not yet, prettygirl." He reached out onto the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of Astroglide, dripping some onto his fingers before stroking the outside of my butt. I half-tensed, half-relaxed, and he pulled one of my hands down so I could rub my clit while he was fingering my ass. We've had anal quite a few times before, and I know J loves it, but it had been a while. I used to hate it (not with him, with other boyfriends coughpatrickcough), but I actually really love it now. It's really intimate, and it feels really hot in kind of a different way.

Once I was moaning and kind of pushing up against his hand, he slowly pulled his finger away and lubed up his dick, before pulling my hips closer and slowly sliding into my ass. I kept fingering myself, and after a few seconds the discomfort went away and he started thrusting a little harder. We were both staring into each other's eyes and he was going really slowly and I could feel a really powerful orgasm building in me almost immediately. J pushed all the way inside, and I gasped, and then came so hard I was shuddering just as he started to come. Afterwards, we washed up and he spooned me until I fell asleep. So at least our sex life isn't in a rut anymore.

Yesterday, I had a job interview for this position that is really similar to what I used to do when I worked for the publishing company. I was really happy then, because I knew exactly what I'd be doing, what my deadlines were, and I didn't have to work on a team or deal with people yelling at me. Plus the job has great perks, like working from home a few days a week, and it's a pretty big bump in pay for me--$15k more than I make now. I wasn't expecting too much, but they called me after I left and made me a verbal offer. I gave notice at my old job today--I'm not coming back after Amsterdam, and I start the new job on June 1st. I'm soooo excited and relieved, and also happy because more money means we can probably buy a condo next year.

I hope y'all have been well. I'll be back on Friday. Cheers!