[Relationships] Giant Nerd Alert
You know, you're probably getting tired of hearing about it, but here's the thing-- I don't care. This guy? He's faaaaaaaaaabulous.
Like, yesterday? Oh god. So we got home from work after doing domestic things-- seriously, my favorite pseudo-crush checkout guy at Trader Joe's that I haven't seen in months not only gave me that big 'ol smile and remembered my name and offered me a chocolate bonbon, and I was just like 'lalalala, boyfriend'-- and we-- me & Jason we, not me & checkout dude we-- took a shower 'cause he really likes it when we wash each other and make out all naked and wet-like... and then.
And then he put on these blue scrub pants and was walking around my kitchen without a shirt on, and he was all still sort of wet with this doofy sexy grin on his doofy sexy face, and the glasses we all workin' for him and... and I was like aaaaagggh this cannot be for real. This man? The man that I quietly mooned over for the better part of a year, who I dorkishly imagined it would be really cool and nice to date whenever I walked back to hand him his paycheck-- this guy who I perpetually want to hump and be all over is. my. boyfriend. As in, I get to have crazy ridiculous monkeysex or make tender, schmoopy Sarah-McLachlan-y love with him pretty much whenever I want. To steal a line from Cher Horowitz, oh my god, I am totally butt crazy in love with Jason. To a ridiculous, embarrassing degree. Look at me, I'm abusing italics!
I love the way he cocks his head just so when he walks past my desk, which is our secret code for 'meet me at the water cooler, I need to kiss you right now.' I love the way he puts his hand on my knee when we're riding to work together, and how we plot what to get for breakfast 'cause we always split it (usually: egg wrap with gorgonzola, avocado, and tomato, with a side of fruit). I love the way he's just such a nauseatingly good person who's always pitching in and helping out and taking care of people without seeming like he's trying too hard to be white-knight guy. And he likes my friends, and likes to hug my friends, and he's thinking of learning how to dance, and he said yes to going down the ocean with my family, and keeps alluding cutely to having some s00per-sekrit plan he's working that involves collecting pictures of me. And he almost always calls me either 'girlie' or 'beautiful' or 'pretty lady' or sometimes 'assface,' but always always calls me Christina when he tells me he loves me.
And Jesus H., the sex. It's just unfuckingbelivableohmydearsweetandfluffy
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Thank you, this has been my weekly Ode To My Boyfriend. Over and out.
Like, yesterday? Oh god. So we got home from work after doing domestic things-- seriously, my favorite pseudo-crush checkout guy at Trader Joe's that I haven't seen in months not only gave me that big 'ol smile and remembered my name and offered me a chocolate bonbon, and I was just like 'lalalala, boyfriend'-- and we-- me & Jason we, not me & checkout dude we-- took a shower 'cause he really likes it when we wash each other and make out all naked and wet-like... and then.
And then he put on these blue scrub pants and was walking around my kitchen without a shirt on, and he was all still sort of wet with this doofy sexy grin on his doofy sexy face, and the glasses we all workin' for him and... and I was like aaaaagggh this cannot be for real. This man? The man that I quietly mooned over for the better part of a year, who I dorkishly imagined it would be really cool and nice to date whenever I walked back to hand him his paycheck-- this guy who I perpetually want to hump and be all over is. my. boyfriend. As in, I get to have crazy ridiculous monkeysex or make tender, schmoopy Sarah-McLachlan-y love with him pretty much whenever I want. To steal a line from Cher Horowitz, oh my god, I am totally butt crazy in love with Jason. To a ridiculous, embarrassing degree. Look at me, I'm abusing italics!
I love the way he cocks his head just so when he walks past my desk, which is our secret code for 'meet me at the water cooler, I need to kiss you right now.' I love the way he puts his hand on my knee when we're riding to work together, and how we plot what to get for breakfast 'cause we always split it (usually: egg wrap with gorgonzola, avocado, and tomato, with a side of fruit). I love the way he's just such a nauseatingly good person who's always pitching in and helping out and taking care of people without seeming like he's trying too hard to be white-knight guy. And he likes my friends, and likes to hug my friends, and he's thinking of learning how to dance, and he said yes to going down the ocean with my family, and keeps alluding cutely to having some s00per-sekrit plan he's working that involves collecting pictures of me. And he almost always calls me either 'girlie' or 'beautiful' or 'pretty lady' or sometimes 'assface,' but always always calls me Christina when he tells me he loves me.
And Jesus H., the sex. It's just unfuckingbelivableohmydearsweetandfluffy
kjhdkjhsdkfjhsdkjhfkjsdhfkjshkjhsdf
Thank you, this has been my weekly Ode To My Boyfriend. Over and out.