I love my boyfriend. A lot.
We just had our fourth Valentines Day as a couple – every other year he’s given me a whole bunch of long stemmed red roses. He saw a winner and he stuck with it, smart man. This year, he did something even sweeter.
He bought me a thesaurus!
He was saying that he thought that flowers were a little too transient, that they wilted too quickly, so he gave me something that would last. What I tell ya? Smart man. I mentioned to him a few weeks beforehand that I needed to get a better thesaurus, the papers Ive been writing for class were getting ridiculously repetitive. There’s only so many ways to say the same thing for weeks at a time (woo lesson plans!).
Over the past week, I have incorporated the words “rigamarole” into a long ass bitch fest, “whiz-bang” to describe a morning at the intern site, “flummuxed” at least three times, “buffaloed” once, and have called James an “inveigler” on more than one occasion. He in turn has decided to declare me a strumpet. My favorite entry of all? Making out. Ahem. We could use necking, petting, spooning, smooching, lollygagging, canoodling, playing kissy-face or kissy-kissy or kissy-poo or kissy-huggy or lickey-face or smacky-lips, pitching or flinging woo, sucking face, or swapping spit. I particularly enjoy “flinging woo.” Never heard that one before.
I got him the Firefly comic. It wasnt amazing, but he liked it.
In other news, I have developed one hell of a case of TMJ. Oh, the crappiness. There’s no connection to the rest of this entry – although it would be cool to say I got TMJ from smacky-lipping – but I just thought Id mention it. Im going to the doctor tomorrow, don’t worry.
As if you needed further proof that James is the best boyfriend ever, cause you don’t cause he is, he’s out on the town tonight with a whole bunch of friends. A little backstory… James and I, we’re not that social. Im usually holed up in the grad school purgatory that is my little study area and he’d much rather curl up with a book than go out somewhere and end up spending money on booze he’ll just pee out in a few hours. Given our telephonic relationship, we spend most of our nights doin’ our thing (thang?) on the phone, talking for about two hours before we go to bed.
Tonight, he has called me from the bar two times to check in, let me know how everybody was doing, let me know when he was planning on getting home. Then he told me he loved me. In a bar. Surrounded by his friends. He isn’t ashamed of it at all – he’s all about the lovin and I admire him for it. I still have to resort to the “back at ya” response when Im in front of other people, I get too red-faced to be an adult about it.
Im going to go wrap my face in a hot something or other, take some advil, find me a mouthgaurd and get the hell to bed. One more day before the weekend one more day before the weekend…