I love romantic stories.
I love ones that involve me even more.
This is the most romantic one of all....
It all evolved over my vacation in various wonderful, nauseating, stomach-turning ways. In Burbank I got a voicemail that he left where he played the song he wrote for me (because my boy be talented. *swoon*) and my response went something like this (after listening to it about 5 times) :
Me: Oh, baby, that was-
*bee lands on ass while I'm sunning myself at the pool*
Bee: STING. *stings*
Me: SON OF A BITCH!
Drew: What?
Me: A bee stung my bottom and now my bottom's big!
/Simpsons
I wish I was kidding about how that went, but right in the middle of my trying to tell him how amazing he was and how incredible he made me feel, a bee literally landed on the sunny side up of my butt and stung me on the right cheek.
And no, Amy, I don't think it's a sign.
A few minutes later I was laying back on the chaise with an ice-pack sliding down my posterior, and had resumed my attempts at barfing my feelings (that's literally what it's like for me - ask any of my exes).
*sigh* Oh, young love...
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2 comments:
I don't get that. You managed to barf up your feelings (and nauseate me as well) just fine in NoCal this week. Even when I was narrating running commentary on everything you said to him. ;)
:D I totally forgot you weren't blogging at LJ anymore. Oh...oh LOL.
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