Saturday, January 12, 2002.
Reading:
"When My Sister Was Cleopatra Moon"
(Yes, I'm reading fiction again!?)
Meeting
neat interesting people all the time, like:
Village
Assassin (a.k.a. XAKUMAX, a.k.a. Chris, a.k.a. DanceDanceFu)
What Amy
and I have to look forward to: Hello
Little Ian.
PLEASANTLY PLUMP
I don't really care for this one-entry-a-week thing, so I am going to make myself post something - anything, and see what happens.
I work this weekend but I haven't been too down about it. Just gliding through the week, trying to glide through this weekend, and finally to my next free weekend I guess. Seems like I live from weekend to weekend. During weekends.
Amy says she might write an entry this week again. She's majorly concerned about her weight gain. In her words,
"For the first time in my life, I have a weight problem."
She's gained all the weight she is supposed to gain and only 5 1/2 months pregnant. She's decided to stop eating junk food for snacks and we've been at the gym more this week.
She's cute as hell though. Her baby-belly and little legs.
She thinks her ass is too big. "I should have FATASS on the back of my pants," she says. I think it looks fine. Too fine actually, considering that her libido is nil these days.
I can't believe how long it's been since I've had sex (with another person that is). I think pregnancy is Nature's way of preparing the man for how sexless his life will be after children come into the picture. I think I (meaning my wrist flexors) can adjust.
It hasn't bothered me as much as you'd think though. Maybe I should get my balls lubed ... er, checked or something.
FAVORITE AMY THING
My favorite thing about Amy ... I've been thinking about this a lot just for the heck of it and I've come up with my list of Sweet Amy Pleasures. Non-sexual of course.
First, there's the whole companionship thing. Always having a good friend around is comforting. But those can be subtle pleasures, and I need something primal.
And of course, love, but that's kind of a nebulous concept that I don't feel like analyzing right now.
I love hugging and squeezing her but you can only squeeze so hard or hug so long.
Kissing is fun, but you can't really get all swollen-lipped and drunk on it unless you kiss for extended periods of time -- and it's not really Amy's thing. I blame her first boyfriend for rushing the kissing part. (It was my first girlfriend's thing though, which I still remember ... which maybe I shouldn't.)
Amy's laugh comes close to my favorite thing, but it's not as easy to come by. Most of the time I make her laugh, it's on accident. Sarcasm and wit don't do it. I'm not sure what does. She laughs whenever we pass by an Arby's restaurant and we both say "Yessuh!" because that was some dumb ad slogan they once had, "America's Roast Beef Yes Suh!" (spells out A-R-B-Y-S). Sometimes she'll laugh a little bit when I'm sitting on the floor in my skivvies playing video games (but it's too cold to do that these days, and I haven't been in a game playing mood lately). Sometimes she'll laugh at Tom Green even (but sometimes I do too).
If I knew what made her laugh, I'd do it all the time though. She's really silly when she breaks out in a good laugh. She stumbles and shakes and is really loud and collapses into me. Yeah, I'd make her laugh all the time if I could.
Just looking at her is certainly a pleasure. She's always beautiful, but even better is she's funny about it. Being beautiful can be it's own attraction, but being able to make fun of your beauty, or to be funny in spite of it, is even more endearing.
It's funny watching her walk, not because she walks funny. But because she has her own way of walking I guess. Like her head is pulling her body ahead of her, or these days, like her belly is pulling her body. She says she's slightly bowlegged because her mom used to carry her on her back all the time.
Amy says she won't carry our baby on her back all the time.
But looking is what you do when, because of circumstance or conscience, you can't do anything else.
Anyways, my most favorite thing about Amy is how she smells, her hair mainly. And I've figured out why. First, unlike trying to make her laugh, I can smell her anytime she's near me. Instant gratification. (The olfactory-cerebral connection is lightning fast. Just ask any coke head or dog.)
Unlike kissing or sex, it doesn't require participation on her part (although I have tried to tell her she doesn't really have to do anything when she's not in the mood for sex -- she barely even needs to be awake -- that line never works). I can just curl up and smell her. None of this "why are you unzipping your pants" embarrassment. Ahem.
Unlike hugging, I can smell her as much as I want. (The less showered the better). To complete intoxication. Until I fall asleep with my nose buried in her hair.
KICKBOXER, THE PREQUEL
Baby Boy is turning out to be more of a boxer than a kicker.
Amy feels him punching on the right side when she's sitting still sometimes. The side where his feet are doesn't kick so much. Her Ob/Gyn doctor says the baby was moving around a lot the last time she tried to measure his heartbeat too. She had a hard time catching him with all the agile maneuvers he's pulling in that little womb.
Baby Boy's got more moves than Yoo Seung Jun in a Yuen Woo Ping movie. That's my boy!
(I've used that phrase elsewhere but I like it.)
AMY WANTED ME TO ...
Remind Tracy that Josh Hartnett is on Saturday Night Live tonight.
(And Amy almost never talks about or remembers journalers either. She really liked Tracy's cat and dog.)
