Scott's still in London as he has been since June 20...which by this point has left me extremely sexually frustrated with no hopes of relief until he gets home tomorrow.  Yay me.  For some reason it has driven me to eat tons of sugar.  I don't think I've eaten actual food since the week he left.  All that sugar hasn't done anything to help my already jumpy state.  I can't stop shaking my leg and tapping my fingers on things. 

It's the most amazing yet insane feeling in the world to want someone so badly you can smell them and taste them even when you're seperated by thousands of miles.  I'm so keyed up I'm likely to fall apart the second he touches me...either that or I'm going to fuck him right there on the baggage carousel. 

8 hours and counting... 

Scott and I spent the whole day in bed on the 4th and it occured to me that we very rarely have sex on beds.  In the bedroom sure, but hardly ever on the bed.  Showers, bathroom/kitchen counters, hardwood floors, chairs,dining room tables, stairs, boat decks...all fine, but beds? no.  I don't know, beds are just so blah to me...plus I don't like to rumple my 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets (what? good sheets are important damn it). 

In other news...

I think we overdid it with the overzealous welcome home sex.  I'm fairly sure I've pulled and/or dislocated and/or bruised the hell out of something...hence the ice cold bottle of vodka I've shoved down my pants.  I need one of those old lady hot water bottles.

In news involving other people and not directly concerning me...

Ryan is feeling a lot better lately.  She seems to be coming out of the depression she fell into after the miscarriage.  And on a totally unrelated and random note...that woman's mouth is a national treasure, she is very VERY talented and James is an extremely lucky man.

Her sister is here for the summer.  I think I'll make it my mission to corrupt her. 

There's this post on okayplayer about whether you should live together before you get married or not.  I'm finding it quite disturbing.  Those who think that you shouldn't keep talking about how living together first takes the "newness" away and it ruins the fantasy.  What is this happy happy joy joy "hey let's hold hands and run through a field of daisies like little prairie children" fantasy you have?  That's more than a little unrealistic...and if you seriously believe they key to a successful marriage is "newness", you're sorely misguided.

Newsflash, marriage is living together.  Now, it's up to you whether you want to live together first or you want to be surprised...but living together first isn't going to make your marriage any less likely to succeed (despite the bullshit biased stats that are out there that say otherwise).  If anything, it might save you a lot of trouble.  I think much of the high divorce rate has to do with people having this idea of marriage being something that it's not.  There's nothing fundamentally special about marriage other than a piece of paper and a tax break.  Your relationship should be strong well before you even consider marriage.  If it isn't strong enough to survive living together, or all you have to look forward to is a feeling of "newness", you were doomed from the start.

I stopped by the dance school a couple of days ago to get something out of the office.  We have a new receptionist...I'd never met her before that day.  I try to avoid the hiring process, it's tedious and boring.  But anyway, I stop by, I say hello to her and proceed to make my way to the office when she stops me...

Her:  I'm sorry ma'am (ma'am?! I'm 25!), but that's for employees only.

Me: Oh really?  Well...does the owner count as an employee?

Her: Oh..wow, I'm sooo sorry.  I didn't know...

Me (laughing): It's cool, you're just doing your job.  That'll teach me to show my face around here a little more. 

She looked a bit shaken when I came back out.  I don't know why, I mean really, I'm a tiny, barely 100 pound, immaculately dressed, quasi-asian woman...what the hell am I going to do?  Oh well, I guess it's fairly normal to be slightly intimidated by the person who cuts your check (indirectly of course, fuck that accounting bullshit.  I'm not stupid, I double check the numbers but that's about it).  I stuck around for a few minutes and talked to her.  She seems like a pretty cool person.  

I guess I really do need to start coming around more.  I've considered teaching a class again but I really have no patience for these talentless kids.  I know that sounds way harsh (c) Clueless, but I have to be honest with them...most of these kids are 16+ and expecting to have a career in ballet.  If you're still talentless at that age, you're not going to make it and that's a fact. 

On to other things...

Scott and I went dancing Saturday.  I wore a strapless vintage 50s dress and a cardigan (as much as I hate pumps, the outfit called for them).  I felt very Winona Ryder circa her trial. 

The more I encounter the average man in my age group, the more I realize how truly lucky I am to have Scott.  He's such an amazingly classy guy.  He never fails to open a door for me, or pull out my chair, or offer his hand...and he always ALWAYS stands when I leave a room, even when we're just lounging around at home.  He's awesome...I can't wait until our wedding.  I may have to prove my own wedding night sex theory wrong. 

Well, we're off to find him a tux...and I have a feeling that's going to put me in the mood to be a very naughty girl tonight.   

Scott made me a really great drink last night.  It's like a frickin' instant orgasm.  Here's what it is...

~freeze a vodka glass (thanks for the Steuben glasses, Pascale!)

~while it's chilling, melt some dark chocolate (Valrhona or Slitti if you have it)

~take the ice cold vodka glass and dip the rim of it into the chocolate

~freeze the glass again to set the chocolate

~after the chocolate has set, fill the glass with ice cold (so cold it's slightly syrupy) and preferably potato based vodka

~sit back and enjoy

Chocolate and vodka go together like Jimmy Choo and Tamara Mellon...it's just right.  So on to what this post title is all about...

I was in heaven after the first drink, so by the time I started my fourth I was in the proper mood to do some downright filthy things.  So I said to myself..."hey AJ, this drink is at least as good as sex, so how awesome would drinking it while having sex be?"  Luckily Scott was glad to help me test it out.  So there I was having a nice leisurely ride on my husband with my drink in one hand when all of a sudden the door flies open and guess who it is...my 3-year-old daughter.

Yeah.  Luckily the sheet was well placed so she didn't really see anything too traumatizing (well, nothing other than her mother naked on top of her godfather/stepfather)...I don't yet need to explain how tab A fits into slot B or anything.  She was giving me the eyebrow like "what the hell are you losers doing?"  I froze for a minute before I decided that we should just act like there's nothing out of the ordinary going on.  I didn't want to scream and freak out or anything...I figured that could only make things worse by a) scaring the hell out of her and b) letting her know she saw something she wasn't supposed to see.

So I remained very calm and told her that we were in the middle of something and to go back to her room and wait for me (and to close the door on the way out).  Usually she likes to ask 30 questions when you tell her something but I guess she wasn't in the mood because she just shrugged and left.  Then I finished what I started (sorry, there was no way in hell I was going to just stop) and went to see what she wanted. 

Great.  I'll never live this one down once my mother finds out, and I know she will because J tells her everything. 

...this week she'll be learning how to knock before entering a room and I'll be learning how to start locking my door.