What A Week

I am trashed right now, so forgive me if my prose is somewhat dyslexic. Or possibly just crap. I can't help it. I can run this through the spellchecker as many times as I want, but there's no "crapchecker."

It has been a hell of a week. Work heated up a little, then there was Sveta's graduation, and then all the celebration that had to entail, and then I went to visit my brother for a day because he was close enough to make a day trip possible. And then I came home before Memorial Day and there was more celebration. I'll try to take it all in stride. It's hard; I'm tired and blitzed.

Let's see: nobody cares about work, so we'll skip the Sveta's graduation. She's done with high school, officially. I went, sat in the back of the place, which was hotter than fuck, and sweated and listened to interminable speeches. At least there was no Mass; I've had to sit through too many of those during various graduations. Just a lot of crap. I cheered as loud as I could for her when she went to get her diploma, and I hope that everyone thought I was just a friend.

She had to go with her parents and have graduation festivities, and I went back home and cried. I cried quite a lot, actually; it was somewhat out of character for me. I went to my room and bawled. I didn't cry like that for any other graduation, not my sisters' or my brother, but for whatever reason, Sveta's graduating really brought home to me that she's going to be leaving soon to go to school someplace far away, where she'll meet lots of new people and have new experiences and all that, and I'll miss her, even if we don't break up. So yeah, there were many tears.

I spent the rest of the evening eating chocolate and watching comedy movies, until my Dad said I looked like my dog had died, which set me off again for whatever reason. He let me cry on his chest for a bit, and then he helped me upstairs to my bed. I sniffled through the tears, begging him not to leave me alone, and he didn't. And for all those of you who were expecting something, he sat on my bed and sang lullabies to me until I fell asleep. It's making me tear up just thinking about it. I love my Daddy. He just sat there and sang to me, like he used to do when I was younger. God damn, hold on a minute, I've sobered up and consequently am only drunk enough to be weepy. I can't see the screen.

I've got Radiohead on and I'm still drunk and I'm going to move on to something else. You all don't want to hear about me being teary anyway.

So the next day, I was feeling a bit better, and I arranged with Sveta to meet up for her private celebration with me. She said she had nothing better to do that day, for which I gave her unmerciful hell because she's not supposed to say things like that. I was joking, of course.

I had her over for dinner to meet the parents. I didn't raise issues of what was going on or our relationship, I just said that they knew she was a friend and wanted to offer her congratulations on graduating. And I told them to be good. I cooked, Mom helped, and we sat down to dinner, Sveta obviously petrified. She's met them before, but not in this type of circumstance. I'm sure she knows they know all about our relationship, but still, she was terrified. But my Mom was very maternal, and my Dad was charming, and in the end she loosened up and answered questions and told stories. Perhaps not the greatest time, but she wound up enjoying herself.

Then we went out for a walk. Why the fuck not? It was evening, the light was dim, we enjoyed walking and being together. It would have been more romantic if the mosquitoes hadn't been out in force. We retreated to the safety of the bunker to apply healing, or something like that.

I had a bottle of vodka in my room, and my parents had instructions to stay away. I really hate living with them sometimes; I feel like such a loser having to tell my parents to stay away from my room. But they turned in early, so it was no big deal.

Sveta and I got trashed. There were mixers, which was good, but still, she's a lightweight and I'm irresponsible. She's too young for it, but yet I did it anyway. We didn't start out drinking ourselves to death; we made love once right out of the gate, not even totally naked. There was a wet spot on her skirt that probably will take serious washing to get out.

Then we toasted, and drank, and made love again, this time with giggles and dildoes. She was tipsy, I was barely past sober. She's got less body mass than I do, and she's not used to drinking. But the second time the rest of the clothes came off, and I fucked her cute little cunt with a dildo while she ate me out from above. It was great, just the right level of innebriation for fun without sloppiness.

Then more drinking, and she was trashed and I was trashed and we both were trashed together. I had more, but we were both in the same boat. We were singing and tickling and just being insane drunk. We fucked, or rather I ate her out until she came on my face and passed out.

I snuggled up next to her, and when I came to, it was light out and we were both tucked in. I don't know who did it; my Dad won't admit to anything, although I could see him checking on us, finding us just lying there, and covering us with a blanket. Hell, I could see him sneaking a peak at us, maybe even copping a feel. He's only human. I'd do it. I almost wish he had and Sveta had been startled from her drunken slumber, because if she'd been as trashed as she was, she would have been totally open to the concept of fucking my dad and the whole thing would have been moot.

I had made arrangements to meet up with Mike the next day, which sucked because it meant that Sveta and I couldn't just lie about and lazy it up. She went home and I took the trip to where Mike was, where he promised a blow-out party. And there I think I should stop this and continue in another post at some point, not right now, because I need to sleep. I think this whole thing is pretty good for a drunk girl, but if it's not, I'm sorry.

Damn, I still get weepy over my Dad's lullabies. I don't know how that sounds to the world, but it's the sweetest thing ever, and it makes me feel like a little girl again. It's completely non-sexual; our love is beyond that. It's like Christmas; presents express love, but they aren't the only way of expressing love. Similarly, sex expresses love (and also is fun) but isn't the only way my Dad expresses his love to me.

Eyes are crossing. Must stagger away now.