So I am offically writing you drunk, or high, whichever is the excuse I will make up in the hour. I have decided, as I write this, to see how messed up my writing skills will be, grammar and spelling-wise if I don’t edit later. I have a feeling…it won’t be good.
I hav eto tell you all. Things are fantastic. I am dating an amazing person. He makes me feel like I can be completely myself, full force, without feleing the need to styfle, hold back or change anyhting about me. And that is amazing!! Also amazingly refreshing. Something new.
He is 47. I am 25. And we can talk about EVERYTHING!!!! Beat that, older woman nearing forty who said what would we ever have in common to actually talk about. He has just now recently dropped me off from the Elton John concert where I had a lot of champagne. For some resaons the whol night reminded me of New years Eve. But, it was n’t. So I had a lot of champagne. That took me five hundred times to write, champagne, the word, did. I also decidedd to puff on someone’s drag. I cannot believe I allowed myself with a stranger to do that. Who knows where that drags been?! Oh well. I won’t be dying anytime soon.
In any case, Elton and Leon were outstanding! I am also starving. And I have this nasty taste in the back of my tongue that reminds me of the weed I smoked an hour ago, plus my chocolate ice cream with peanut butter swirl. AMAAAZING! Except the after taste. Which taste like skunk versus chocolate. Gag. Don’t do that.
So, in conclusion. I quite enjoy my time with Mr. Georgia. I quite enjoy chococalet. And Elton John. Such a legend. But as a whimminarian, weed and chocolate = GET OFF MY TONGUE!!!!