I was thinking this should probably be a 2 segment post, but then I couldn’t be bothered. So now you guys get the big long story.
Pull up a pew, get your cuppa ready and some biscuits and a blankie.
Sometimes I think that I met Loki is a bit of serendipity – because it doesn’t feel real, most times. I think that’s the hard reality of long distance relationships. All you have is the other person’s voice to go on and as much as I hear it day in day out without the personal touch it makes it so much more harder to ground it in the here and now. Those 3 weeks we spent practically devouring each other is the only thing keeping me going.
I was totally preparing myself to be the mad cat woman for the rest of my life, getting a property somewhere, opening a traditional Turkish tea house somewhere with pets allowed to romp and roam with patrons while they sip their tea and play their games under vines that are flowering. Who knows, maybe this will still be a reality some day…
I wasn’t expecting things to work out with Loki, I wasn’t expecting to end up in a long distance relationship. I didn’t expect .. well this. I was one of the first people who used to scoff at long distance relationships. They never work, distance is too great, relationships are hard enough when you’re both in the same city let alone different cities… or in our case, on different sea coasts and a 18 – 20 hour flight between us. Most days I am secure in our tentative long distance relationship, it works, sort of. I have moments of thinking I’m insane and what if he decides he hates me after spending more than a month with me, then I have to slap myself out of it.
But now I feel the pressure from life going on here and now, continuously, I have a million different things that need my attention. From my mother, to my sister, to my studies, to Loki, to working full-time and studying full-time… my friends, my other curricular activities. I feel the pull of the tide dragging me under more often than not and that’s probably because I have exams in 2 weeks and I feel about as prepared as a newborn being asked to walk. I’m feeling the pressure and all I want to do is honestly be able to hide in his embrace and not be an adult, for a night, a few hours, a few minutes, a few deep breaths of my face in his chest and his scent enveloping me.
Tag Loki, you’re it.
The other night on my epic 10 hour drive from Lismore back to Sydney Loki kept me company on the phone. Well. If you call his sick whining and my baiting him a conversation. I do, I was getting much enjoyment out of it.
Although I will admit that the distance thing is a real kicker when he’s actually sick and I can’t nurse him… yes I have the right outfit for this too.
During our laughing, arguing and just generally being shits to each other we touched upon a topic that I think surprised him a bit. At least he sounded surprised.
And no, I don’t mean the L word as in the lesbian TV series, although it was a great soft porn show… if I do say so myself.
[Source]So let’s talk about that funny thing that makes us all giddy, high, scared, neurotic and warm and fuzzy about another person.
Loki texted me last Tuesday. He texted me something that made me pause. I felt my heart skip a few beats and then flutter to life and beat stupidly fast as I grinned like the cat that got the cream. Literally.
So I was off reading Maurnas blog a wee bit ago and she went through the number of her sexual partners all her life.
She even has a table. Like an honest to goodness table of percentages and everything. I’m so impressed.
Which got me thinking.
We are so hung up on the number of people everyone’s slept with aren’t we? I know Loki is having a few issues swallowing (oh the things I could say) the number of my sexual conquests.
I would say I’d love to walk down the red carpet in some hot little number with heels that made me want to spend my time lying in-front of a mirror with my legs in the air… however last time I walked down anything resembling an aisle was for my sister’s wedding and I was wearing some awesome heels which got caught in the grass and I stumbled, nearly face-planted… righted myself while giggling and proceeded to walk down the aisle snickering like a little school girl. Elegance. I got it.
So let’s just pretend I’m walking down the red carpet, in to lust after heels and I don’t fall and I meet up with the lovely lass from over at Cellulitelooksbetterthantan who nominated me for an award – as well as Meme & JohnnyID! Horray!
So the rules are as follows:
#1: Post the award on your blog – tick. Can I have a trophy too?
#2: Thank the blogger who presented this award and link back to their blog. – Thank you Cellulitelooksbetterthantan & Meme & JohnnyID!
#3: Write 11 random facts about yourself.
#4: Nominate 11 bloggers who you feel deserve this award and who have less than 200 followers.
#5: Answer 11 questions posted by the presenter and ask your nominees 11 questions.
Ok, so that sounds easy enough no? Quite.
Here goes, buckle in, the rides about to start… if you need to puke there are no buckets supplied, use your shirt.