December 31, 2003
December 31, 2003 - 7:25 p.m.
Warning: I'm gonna talk dirty. Move on if you're not interested.
So it's New Year's Eve at 7:25 my time, and I am toast. Evenly brown, a bit burnt, extra-crispy toast. Scratcher isn't even off work yet; he'll show up about 9:00. I've been plotting his greeting for an hour already. It involves a Maker's Mark over ice, candles, and one quickly descending zipper. Hrm. I love planning.
Tonight is all about boobs and booty. For the first time in many months, I'm unburdened by money worries. I've decided to let family and friends take care of themselves for a night - though earlier I did the call-around to wish everybody well. No, tonight's for me. So Miss Beek poured me the largest vodka tonic in the history of man - using Ketel One and limes rolled in sugar - and we pretended we're Irish.* I'm happily full of bananas with chocolate sauce and ready to spend the night being bad.
On nights like this, clothes are meant to tantalize. So it's the good ass jeans, 3" heels, and the low-neck sweater that says, Hello, here are my boobs. They're not as sexy as Sarah's, but they'll do. I'm red-lipsticked and smokey-lashed, and I feel like a million bucks. It's positively lovely.
My positronic charge** completely filled up last night when, at 3:08 a.m., the bf lurched, sighed, and said ten minutes later, That was the best of my life. Can you say happy Kaetchen? The very comment was enough to start a couple of jerky little ripples in me. I ended up pressed against the wall, breasts flattened, with him underneath. Oh my. It was a very, very good night.
Enough. It's time for another drink and a bath. I hope you all enjoy your evening. I'll be thinking of you.***
*Um. Utilized green. Ahem.
**Geeky and slutty. Yay!
***Especially Spoon, whose entry tonight made me laugh really really hard. I'm his ho for the itty bitty of 2003 remaining.
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