Things that I cannot stand.

1) Mariah Carey. First of all, her music genre and style aren't my taste, but I used to (when I was four or five, and completely subjected to the music preferences of older family and friends) love one of her songs ("Always Be My Baby"). That said, she seems so over to me... I can't imagine anyone who still likes her music, or can even appreciate it as quality. There seems to be an obvious decline in quality of the stuff she's been putting out lately (her last 3 or 4 albums). Plus, she almost exclusively sings in a falsetto voice, which is hardly impressive (IMO)! Keep in mind I haven't purchased, or even downloaded, an album of hers in many years, so I'm basing this on the singles she puts out that make it to radio.

2) The radio. Seriously, all stations on FM play essentially, the same thing. There is a huge overlap in song selection, and such a limited playlist. I hate the chatter DJs engage in between songs. There is nothing redeeming about radio. I honestly cannot think of one station (FM) that I would listen to and enjoy consistently. That said, AM radio (only the news, actually) is useful. And informative, in a brief way.

3) Oprah. So self-indulgent and insistent on her own interests. I could write an essay, 3000 words or more, on the reasons why I am anti-Winfrey.

4) People who watch Oprah, and consider Oprah somewhat of a sage for personal or profesional or any (for that matter) advice. Among my regrets in life is that one of my favourite novels, Anna Karenina, was an Oprah's Book Club choice. Seriously. Oh! And I hate how her guests always gush about how inspiring or admirable she is.

5) Letterman. I don't get the humour, and I don't think it's intelligent. Period. The Top Ten Lists aren't funny... and I challenge anyone to explain to me why they are. They aren't clever political satire or tongue-in-cheek or anything. NOTHING SPECIAL. It is no more intellectual than Jay Leno, yet Leno always gets chided for being dumb humour. Also, Letterman is rude to his guests. I'm not a celebrity supporter, but I hate when talk show hosts don't show respect and cordialness to their guests (that said, I hate when guests are arrogant and standoffish to the host).

6) Colds and flus. For reasons mentioned in previous posts.

7) Retail. I hate working retail. I've had to work a few retail positions being a student, and I absolutely hate it. I hate having to be friendly and courteous to people who are disrespectful and annoying. And usually pushy.

8) Making new friends. I suck at socializing. I seriously think I might have some type of borderline antisocial disorder. I am horrible at conversing with people I don't know, and I need to force myself to be interested in others.

9) Bigots. I hate closeminded and ignorant people. There are two types of people who can never lose an argument, extremely intelligent, knowledgeable and articulate people, and stupid people. Unfortunately, stupid people seem to be a lot more common.

10) People who spell "loser" with too O's.

11) People who don't use correct spelling or grammar excessively (to the point of incoherence) on MSN, Facebook, Myspace, etc.

12) Long nails (on women, but on men too, for that matter). Especially when the person is cooking food.

13) Nail polished fingers cooking or preparing food. Handling food, mainly. It grosses me out.

14) Dry elbows. Moisturize, people. Moisturize.

I'll probably post a "Things I can stand and/or lurrrve" sometime in the future. It'll probably be a shorter list. Ha!

Runny noses and sore throats.

Anyways, as previously mentioned, I am sick. The worst feeling in the world, especially since my illnesses are never over once they're over. It takes like, three weeks (?!?) to fully get over them, in the mean time my nose runs at the most random, inappropriate moments (on the subway, sans tissues; in class, again, w/o tissues, etc). But, I'm still not there yet. I am still sick, sick.

Question: I should probably know this, and I could Wikipedia the answer, but does anyone know why noses get runny? I realize it's the increase in mucus production to release bacteria/viruses/invasive things, but why does the mucus get really liquidy (TMI?)? Like water? Blech! I'd imagine it's just an overproduction of mucus, so there isn't time for it to... congeal? (I'm thinking that's the wrong word).

Anyways. I'm basically tres occupied with academics right now... the end of term is approaching, meaning I have finals and final assignments (essays ga-lore) to complete.

That said, I'll try to keep posting.

Chya,

Daisy.

Sick.

I'm getting sick.

My throat is really sore and itchy-feeling, and sore throats (for me) usually augur runny and stuffed noses, chills, drowsiness... all that fun stuff.

Fab-u-lous, right?

Me and the guy from my second post, can't remember the pseudonym I gave him, and I don't plan on reading back right now (bleh! I am sick, laziness is expected!), were supposed to go out on Friday night, but I have a feeling that my illness will be in full swing by then. And he's a horny bastard, and I probably won't be in a sex-giving mood. Therefore, I will probably have to rain check that shit.

Ughughugh.

PS Term is almost up, and he'll be going back home! I wonder how this fling of ours will work out over the 4 months of no school... I've never long distance relationshipped before, and I've always been hesitant to support/believe in them... practicality seems to be against them. :(

Foreign exchange students.

I had sex tonight, about four hours ago. French guy from my university. Seriously, I'm against irrational stereotypes and racial prejudices, but whoever said Frenchmen were effective in bed were definitely spot on.

We'll call him "Pierre". Pierre was fucking amazing (haha, pun-ish?). A bit too slow for my tastes, but a romantic tryst savant... And a great kisser. Ahhh, plus he paid for dinner (sushi and sake), and we got to do my favourite part of the date (pre-coital activities) where we walk intertwined down the sidewalk, illuminated by streetlights and traffic, but under a really dark sky. So pretty and cinematic. I really enjoy these types of moments: when you're practically stumbling as you walk, because the position of the two of you is awkward (too close, different heights... etc), but it's worth to be able to stay warm and close the way home. Ahhh, lovelovelove it.

Anyway. He lives in an apartment off campus, with a roommate (who's gone home for the weekend). Tiny apartment. Real estate that's affordable and close to campus is necessarily sketchy dilapidated and/or a grow-op. Anyway, we fucked on a ridiculous looking metal framed bed with unmatching bed linens and a bicycle hanging on the door. I'm sort of fascinated by bilingual and multilingual people, I always wonder how their thinking process sounds to them... are they constantly translating things (as I had to do when learning to speak French), or do they confuse the two languages, you know? As we were intercourse-ing, he would mutter/gasp French words. So hot.

And with that, good night.

Oops.

I realized that people who come to this blog will totally think I'm some online nerd and/or nympho if they read my last post.

Not my intention, promise.

I wanted to try my hand at writing narrative of a pretty fun time I had last week... :)

Tete a tete.

Kthxbye, Facebook:
I licked at the tip of his penis. A milky fluid oozed out of it, I used my tongue to taste it. Salty. I cringed, he responded by pushing his cock into my mouth. I hesitated and gagged, he pushed deeper. He was fucking my face and holding onto my mess of hair. He roughly pulled my head onto him, and pushed me off. I was gagging, but my pussy was flexing with excitement. I wanted it harder, faster, deeper.

He pulled me up. I was gasping for air, my mouth was open and my eyes glazed. I could imagine what I looked like: A filthy whore wanting to be mistreated. I wanted him to hurt me and violate me.

He picked me up and threw me onto the bed. “Ouch”, I said, coyly. He smiled, then leapt onto me. Using three fingers as a surrogate cock, he banged me. Ouch. He growled into my ear and kissed my neck. Tongue, teeth, tongue.

My entire body was thrusting beneath him. He handled my breasts. He began to knead them with his hands gently. I moaned, he used his mouth on my nipples, then tugged at them with his teeth. His cock lay against my abdomen, stiff and sticky. “I want you in meee”, I managed to let out. I fingered his cock and tried to stick it into my vagina.

He slipped out of my grasp and nipped my breast. “I’m leading this,” he reminded me. I surrendered, and lay helpless on the bed. He rested on his elbows above me, inches of space between us. I looked at his cock, thick, long, pulsating.

He placed the tip of his cock at my pussy’s opening. I closed my eyes, readying myself. Suddenly, I felt a painful jab. He shoved himself roughly into my ass. Tears escaped my eyes, I struggled, but he restrained me.

He stopped thrusting his pelvis, as I was holding my breath. He pulled his cock out quickly, and slammed into my pussy. I gasped. He placed my legs on his shoulders, and proceeded to fuck me as hard as he could. I imagined that if I held my abdomen, I would feel him slamming into me. I bit my lip.

My pussy started to convulse and I breathed more rapidly. He continued fucking me. I came hard, and juices flowed out of my cunt surrounding his cock. It was glistening. He wiped some of my fluids with his hand, and shoved his fingers into my mouth. I lapped at it.

Still thrusting into me, he told me was coming. He pulled out before he ejaculated, and came over my face. He told me to lay still.

He got up and left the room. I began to finger myself, with his cum all over my face. I was enjoying myself when he returned, with a camera. “Cheese, whore… This one’s for Facebook.”

(After-the-fact introduction?):

The boy was from school. Typical, stereotypical, university male: averagely handsome (think a less refined Abercrombie or Hollister type), confident of his intelligence and attractiveness (arrogant!), well off, alcohol- and girl- loving.

We had a couple of classes together and flirted back and forth. He asked me to coffee, I agreed. We drank coffee. Technically, I had a green tea, and he had a sweet pseudo-coffee drink (maple latte, something), which I teased him for.

We talked about our high school, we complained about university, we agreed to go the campus gym together sometime. We set a new coffee date in the near future.

He told me he lived on campus. I told him I wished that I did. I asked him how living in residence was: “Are the rooms tiny? My friends complain about lacking closet space. And the walls… paper thin, right?” He responded in the negative, and invited me to inspect his room.

It was 7:00 at night, I congratulated him on his clever pick up linw, and told him to wait until he’s bought be dinner first. We laughed, we walked. We ended up at his room. It was small, with paper thin walls and a tiny closet. He had a guitar beside his bed. “You play?”. Yes. He played some song “I absolutely love”, and then we made out.

He didn’t have condoms, “you don’t do this often?”, I teased again. Apparently not. Somehow we began talking about how we like to have sex… my first time was in a limo after prom. It lasted, probably five minutes. He (from prom) was so careful to ensure my enjoyment, it bugged me, I told him (tonight) I liked it rough. He told me about his first time. Grade eleven. Girlfriend of two years, anniversary.

She cheated on him, they’re “so over.”

We began making out again. 8:30. He asked me if I was thirsty, indeed I was. Sunny D or vodka..? He didn’t have much. I’ll do vodka. “Hahaha, I hate Sunny D. You shouldn’t drink that stuff.”

We did shots. I was still thirsty, but comfortable and buzzed. We made out again, clothes disappeared along with our qualms. I ended up on my knees blowing him. After an hour (give or take fifteen minutes), I found out he has no problem giving it to me rough.

We were both finished and satisfied, he got up and came back armed with a digital camera. With Paris Hilton in mind, I snatched the camera away from him and deleted all pictures regarding my body and his bodily fluids.

He told me he was just kidding, we lay down on his bed, under covers, and I told him I was tired. I fell asleep against his chest.

Sometime between then (9:00) and the next morning, he took his camera back out.

Who, what, wear.

To familiarize you all with the identity of "Chloe" (pseudonym, of course), here's a brief and factual introduction.

• female
• university student (psychology major)
• lovelovelove indie and rock music
• same for fashion
• Canadian (Ontario, precisely)
• intelligent (standardized testing tells me so, 98th percentile!!)
• compulsive liar (not bad enough to be diagnosed, though :))
• loves animals, but misanthropic
• heterosexual, but loves looking at pornography and fantasizing about attractive ladies
• loves the television. For reals.
• it's true! Names are changed, details changed.

That's it, for now. Stay tuned for my personal, educational, sexual, professional, etc. adventures!

Cheers.