tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10689696511303748982012-02-16T12:29:33.909-05:00Ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13529229240433982475noreply@blogger.comBlogger31100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1068969651130374898.post-6553712166302063842007-11-27T20:49:00.000-05:002007-11-27T20:52:14.286-05:00it appears as though i have found myself off the market.<div><br /></div><div>after a melodramatic shitstorm of a sunday night/monday i find myself not only with a boyfriend...but with a boyfriend who manages to find LILIES at eleven pm.  could it be?  has the universe finally tired of her games, and will i finally have something GOOD with a man?  all signs point to yes, which scares the piss out of me.  i will fall for this boy.  hard.  i've already stepped off the edge.  </div><div><br /></div><div>i like it.  this is a feeling of falling without impending doom.  </div><div><br /></div><div>*swoon*</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1068969651130374898-655371216630206384?l=sayselle.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13529229240433982475noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1068969651130374898.post-32132148550056777132007-11-20T09:44:00.000-05:002007-11-20T09:51:33.026-05:00it appears that i have found myself in someone else's life. here's why:<br /><br />Friday night:<br /><ul><li>picture message with "can't wait for tomorrow night"</li><li>various text messages </li></ul><p>Saturday night:</p><ul><li>he brings TWO bottles of wine to go with the dinner that i made for us</li><li>box of wood for the fireplace</li><li>cuddling in front of the fireplace</li><li>did i mention the fireplace?</li></ul><p>Sunday day:</p><ul><li>shooting guns</li><li>extremely critical friend grants approval of the boy</li><li>handholding on the drive home. (handholding?!?)</li></ul><p>Sunday night:</p><ul><li>i am convinced to watch football without much of a fight</li><li>cuddling during football</li><li>bed before halftime</li></ul><p>Monday night:</p><ul><li>he makes ME dinner (wtf?!?)</li><li>more cuddling</li></ul><p>Tuesday morning</p><ul><li>have i yet mentioned all of the cuddling?</li><li>he MAKES ME TEA while i get ready for work.</li></ul><p>listen readers...i think i'm in trouble with this one, and i haven't even mentioned the dirty stuff. discuss.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1068969651130374898-3213214855005677713?l=sayselle.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13529229240433982475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1068969651130374898.post-50160174976432493502007-11-09T18:35:00.000-05:002007-11-09T18:57:43.703-05:00take THAT livejournal! no more blog with a past! there's something disconcerting about knowing that your readers, if bored and stalkerish enough, can continue to click previous until they find the insipid verbiage that belonged to a nineteen year old you. i can't promise that i'll post with any regularity, as i haven't been in the habit for quite some time. i'm going to try though...there's a feeling of change in the air, and i'd like a record of it.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1068969651130374898-5016017497643249350?l=sayselle.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13529229240433982475noreply@blogger.com0