You are such a good writer. I don’t think you fully realize how good you are yet. I don’t mean that to sound condescending… just that I feel like I’m watching a fucking genius finding her legs, trusting her voice, and already the world is like, “Who the fuck is this???” You’re 3 for 3 in your submissions, and I know this is only the beginning, and that’s so sexy.
I’m having a hard time writing new stories because all I want to write about is you, but I don’t know how yet. I’ve never written about being happy before. I have to discover a whole new language and new rhythms and new jokes because my sad characters aren’t sad anymore. They keep smiling, and I don’t know what to do with them.
I just peeped over at the blood oath you’re writing and it was something about wanting to write about me all the time and I just want you to know that I haven’t written about you yet. No. Not really written. Notes and like diary entries, sure, but not, like, an actual thing. I mean there was that sexy zine love letter but you know what I mean. But that’s a good thing. Because the things I write about are bad and sad, and I feel like I have to give those stories a voice before I start cavalierly writing about chowing down on your cock all the time.
At midnight tonight, we’ll have officially been dating for three months, which is funny because there is no fucking way we’ve only been dating for only three months. No seriously. How is that possible? We’ve been dating for three years or thirty or we broke time entirely and we’re drifting sideways in non-time, fucking in some vortex where the world appears to be moving but every day is the same and it’s the best day of my life.
When good things happen, you’re the first person I want to tell. When bad things happen, you’re the first person I want to tell. When weird things happen, you’re the first person I want to tell. Live, laugh, love, bitches.
We got Covid shots and felt achy so we ordered ramen for delivery and made margaritas and watched a TV show about Northern Ireland and fucked twice and you squirted the second time and I took an Advil and my headache is gone because you said, “Why don’t you take an Advil? No seriously, take an Advil.” I think today was the best day of my life.
Although I don’t actually believe in soulmates – who has time to sit up in heaven or wherever and match-make while wars are happening? (wait, maybe that’s why wars are happening????) – you are SO right for me that it almost makes me a believer.
We went to see Michael Hurley, but I could barely pay attention because you had the hiccups and then you got the giggles and I’ve never been so in love with you and then we went to your place and I said, “Bobbie has fleas,” and you laughed so hard you could barely breathe, and I couldn’t stop laughing because it wasn’t even funny. Bobbie doesn’t have fleas. You do. You’re covered in them, but I love you anyway.
When we were in the waiting room holding tight for our Covid shots, I saw that your jacket was on the floor and for a tiny moment, I thought, “How could I be with someone who’s OK with putting their jacket back on after it’s been on the FLOOR OF A PHARMACY IN A SAFEWAY!?!?!? I mean, Safeway is already a cesspool. Their pharmacy? Absolutely a breeding ground for the black plague. I thought about burning the jacket but ended up fucking you instead.
We fell behind a week on our blood oaths. The response from our readers was overwhelming. “Where are you?” they wondered. “Come back! Tell us about your love and your oaths!” No wait. We haven’t told anyone about this yet. It’s just us, oathing into the void, writing these declarations for each other. I keep waiting for someone to find this website. To stumble on it and say, “Who are these beautiful, hot motherfuckers?”
I’m sitting with you in bed, cum dripping out of my pussy, talking about how you secretly love Enya and I secretly love Creed and I couldn’t be more in love. I mean, you really accept me for who I am. I didn’t tell you, however, that I stole my mom’s credit card one time in high school to subscribe to monthly deliveries of Pure Moods. I thought I was all deep and shit listening to those CD’s on my discman on the school bus while everyone else was listening to Coolio or Linkin Park, and it’s reassuring to know that somewhere far away, at the same time, you were pretending not to listen to Enya. Oh yeah, I also like Linkin Park.
I’ve never been so hot for you as I am when we are editing a story or essay together on the sentence level, breaking that shit down with a kind of specificity that very few people in the world can do, and then we also get to fuck. I definitely died at some point and this is the afterlife and I’m in heaven and it’s goddamn wonderful.
I daydream about our future home every single day. And when I do, I don’t think about size or quality or neighborhood. I don’t think about value or nice furniture or amenities. I think, where the hell are we going to put all these books and art!?
We became boyfriend and girlfriend on September 8. I just added “make a baby” to our shared Google calendar for your peak ovulation dates in December. This feels exactly right, on time, nailing this.
Last week, I had a pang of insecurity thinking about you doing sex work. I got into my head about it, and for the first time since we started dating, felt threatened by it. You could have been annoyed or frustrated, but instead you made room for my moment of insecurity. You let me talk my way out of it and reassured me, and suddenly I felt like hot shit again, like your bf and capital “D” Daddy and future husband. We fucked three times in a row and now you are sitting across from me reading me sexts by weird horny men who want to send you pictures of them sucking on a dildo, and all I can think is, “I can’t wait until you’re wife.”
I love that I’m able to talk about my work with you, especially because the things I usually want to share are screenshots of bewildering chats from clients wanting to talk about things like fucking my face until I vomit, pissing into my mouth, and sharing nudes of their wives (without their permission, of course) in order for me to help “ruin” them. Like, what in the absolute fuck!?!?!?!? It makes the work so much more manageable knowing that you are on the other side, affirming that yes, this is fucked up and that, yes, I should definitely drain them of as much money as possible for giving them a lecture, a spanking, and sending them back home to their mommies.
I usually text you a screenshot of my blood oaths when I post them, but I’m going to keep this one a secret. I don’t know when you’ll find it. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe a week from now. Maybe in a year. I’m just going to hide this oath here like a message in the bottle. The message is this: I’m so fucking crazy about you, baby. So crazy. You’ve made my life feel like a shining, new thing. Every day I wake up happy and fall asleep happy, and it’s because I know that at some point I’m going to see you, text you, kiss you, fuck you, watch TV with you, and hold you all night. You’re so fucking hot and cool and smart. I did something right. Seriously. Like… wtf?
We just finished our first co-write and I am kind of floored by the way we were both able to offer suggestions, hear each other out, and say, you’re right, from time to time. Don’t get used to hearing me say that, though. It won’t happen often 😉
When you’re sitting on my couch with your dog, drinking red wine, wearing my Feelin Groovy t-shirt and 32 Degrees Cool black boxer briefs, I want to fill you up with cum even though I filled you up with cum about 45 minutes ago.
I know we’re joking a lot about Momo Driver Maloney but I really do hope I’m pregnant because:
1. I’m ready to move into my pregnant fashion era. Like, I’m already shopping for elastic waistband joggers online.
2. Pregnant porn start titties are great for business.
3. We kind of have to have a kid. We have four pets between the two of us and I feel like we’re starting to move into “crazy cat people” territory – not that that’s a bad thing; don’t cancel me, people of the internet.
3. I need an excuse to knit lots of cute, tiny things.
4. I really feel like what’s missing in my grad program is a baby. Babies make everything better.
5. Our holiday photos would be unhinged.
6. Porn star titties.
7. Tiny clothes.
8. Momo.
We wrote our first collaborative story. The word “fuck” appears 20 times. The word “hot” appears five times. The word “pussy” appears three times. The words “cum” and “cock” only appear once each. I am proud of us, and feel like we need to get about 50% nastier next time.
I may have given you shit about your stovetop because I secretly hoped you would be the diligent researcher that you are, buy the appropriate stuff, and then let me borrow it after. Plus, I knew you would get a kick at beating me in something … anything … even if it is just stovetop cleanliness. Love you, byeeeeeee!
We started an exercise competition. There are apps and Apple Watches and points involved. I don’t entirely understand how it works… only that we are getting healthy and plan to live a long time because we are spinning a roulette wheel in your uterus and if we are going to repopulate the earth with progressive artist babies, they need to be raised by parents who stand up at least once every hour and get 10,000 steps and don’t vape and climb a dozen flight of stairs. We are training for parenthood and the civil war and the apocalypse. I’ve never felt so young even though it’s 38 days until my 48th birthday.
I loved you a lot already, but then I met your drooling, snub-tailed cat and your oversized, midnight-snacking dog-cat, and saw how much you loved them yet how little you seemed to know about how or when or where to feed them and noticed cat food overflowing onto the floor from bowls positioned on pretty much every surface in the room – including the coffee table, and your desk, and the bathroom countertop, and the cutting board on the kitchen island – and fell even more in love as I thought to myself, “He’s definitely going to have to marry me now because spouses don’t have to testify against each other and he’s gonna need me to take this shit to my grave,” and, well, there’s just nothing more sexy to a girl than job security.
We haven’t oathed about the election yet. It’s been about a week and, while we’ve talked about it, we haven’t (unless you have oathed about it behind my back and I didn’t know it) oathed about it. I’m scared. Yes, abortion is legal in Oregon right now, but what about in a year? I think the only solution is to get pregnant immediately so I can get the care I need if anything goes wrong. We should also have several babies because libs aren’t producing right now and the conservative population is exponentially growing. At this rate, our party is going to disappear faster than the Boomers’ social security benefits. It’s up to us.
Update: it’s been pointed out to me that I used the expression “multiple children” in a previous post. I’d just like to clarify that I have recently lost touch with my ability to reason due to being extremely happy and in love, and things come out of my mouth of which I’m not entirely responsible. What I’m saying is, I’m under a spell… the pheromones have me in their clutches… I see children lately and I don’t cringe… I am being pulled into a vortex of sexy, creative fertility and I don’t want it to stop.
It’s so refreshing being in a relationship with someone who is super into my opinions and ideas and not just because they are dumb or don’t have any of their own. And even more refreshing that you both like my ideas and have a healthy enough ego to not feel threatened by expressing validation for my ideas. And even MORE refreshing that you are also brilliant and funny and I don’t ever have to fake with you.
I used to just dream about one or two small goals that I could work hard at and accomplish because that’s all that I thought was possible. With you, my dreams are getting bigger, wilder, more closely aligned with the life I’ve always wanted. I see collaborative art, novels, paintings, performances, hot sex, hot tubs, saunas, and a farm with multiple children and chickens running around. It doesn’t feel out of reach… it feels like, “Of course that’s what we’re going to do. Look at us. How could we do anything else?”
This is the first time we’ve been apart for more than a day at a time since we started dating two months ago and while, yes, absence makes the heart grow fonder and blah blah blah, I would much rather you be in bed next to me right now with my right hand casually gripping your cock, my left hand holding a cup of coffee, and cum dripping steadily from my pussy. Cum home, plz.
Remember that time we drove home from Topaz farm and listened to Coyote by Pete Seeger and birds were flying over the Willamette River and we definitely weren’t dating, but I had a sudden flash of understanding of everything that was about to happen between us. I wanted to kiss you so bad, but we just listened to Pete Seeger instead and it was so wonderful and painful and beautiful.
There’s nothing more surreal than sitting in bed with your boyfriend of two months while you’re ovulating, planning a trip to Spain, and cum is dripping out of your pussy. We’re being totally reckless and yet I’ve never felt more safe.
The fact that you actually seem interested in my half-asleep recounting of dreams about black oceans, frozen water, talking to hawks, and waving from the roofs of sinking houses, makes me want to give you ten babies.
I wasn’t a dog person before I met you. I made fun of dog people. Now I run across the street to hug your dog and call her “my sweet baby girl!” What have you done to me?
I am writing a story about your pussy. A few of them. A collection. Novels, I’m pretty sure, will follow. I think I just write about your pussy now. It’s so good. I can’t think about anything else.
Addendum to the Pro’s & Con’s List:
Pro’s
Is really really good at making conflict feel like neutral conversation
Has so much cum
Is willing to be an old with me at concerts
Con’s
Presses the elevator button again even when there are people already waiting and it’s clearly already been pressed
Is a little too confident in my ability to walk across town in high heels
Remember when we were like, “We should do an art project called Blood Oath Daily where we take turns writing funny / pretty / meditative / horny things about life and each other. That would be rad”? And then I bought the domain and we launched it on the equinox and haven’t missed a day since? I feel like everything we do is going to be this way: a funny / pretty / meditative / horny idea, and then an insane level of follow through resulting in something that is magically, unmistakably a manifestation of the collective “us.”
My first-ever Oregon voter ballot came in the mail today. When you told me that voting only happens by mail in Oregon, I felt a pang of regret and nostalgia. Polling places have inhabited such an important place in my life. Obama was the first president I voted for and I spent the months leading up to the election door-knocking, making calls, and helping people navigate transportation to the polling places. Then, when I did political campaign management, I did the same and spent every day of early voting at the polls, campaigning for my candidate from the corner. Later, I’d vote at the polling places my grandmother volunteered at. She would look so professional in her polling place volunteer bib and she’d look so proud to see me there and have the chance to introduce me to her volunteer cohort. Walking into the private booth made me feel, briefly, like I had the ability to impact, in a very small way, the trajectory of our country’s future. I’m tearing up right now thinking about my relationship to the polling locations and also how inaccessible they were. So many votes weren’t cast because folks had to work, or had transportation obstacles, or weren’t able to leave their houses. This will be my first time voting by mail and, at first, I felt robbed. But then, after carrying the ballot upstairs, I realized – this will be the first time I’ll ever be able to vote with somebody, and that somebody will be you. A new tradition, in a new place, with the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.
OK, so I researched the correct way to hang the toilet paper roll and here’s what Google’s generative AI situation had to say and I swear some man in an argument with his girlfriend made this shit up. Like, it “reduces airborne micoorganisms in a room by 20-30%”!?!?!?? No, that’s fake news. I did like the part where it said that some people prefer to hang it under because it’s “easier to find in the middle of the night.” This thing is full of contradictions because one of the arguments for the “over” method is because it’s “easier to grab.” Which is it!?
When you notice me looking at your ass, you turn away from me and lean over slightly and say, “What?” and I say, “Oh my God you’re killing me,” and you say, “What… this?” and I say, “Seriously, I’m dying,” and you say, “What… I’m so confused,” and you lean over to pick some imaginary object off the ground and then I die.
For real though… I’m totally, completely, madly, batshit crazy in love with you [heart eyes emoji][upside down face emoji][lying on the floor incapacitated by how much you’ve made my heart like a giant red balloon engorged with blood and feelings emoji].
Saw Adam Driver in a play, then went back to our hotel and broke another seal. The big one. Now we have a new joke: pointing at your belly and calling what might be inside Momo. As in “Momo will be a genius. She’ll have great hair. One day we’ll tell her about the night we saw Adam Driver.” We keep telling the joke and laughing, but maybe it isn’t totally a joke and maybe we don’t entirely want it to be.
Last night you cooked me a steak dinner, then fucked me better than I’ve ever been fucked. This morning, you said I looked like Poseidon. I’m not saying you’re a benevolent witch slowly transforming me into a Norse god, but I’m not not saying it either.
Remember when we both wanted to say, “I love you,” but instead said, “I really … what’s that word again? I think there’s a word for the thing we’re feeling. It’s not “like” but we couldn’t possibly say, you know … what could it be? That was fun but also a lot of words to say.
On our second date, you asked me if I had any kinks. I said I didn’t think so, but I wasn’t sure. A month later, I’ve got a full-blown Daddy complex with a rapidly developing breeding fantasy.
Pro’s
Has the best laugh, hair, and style in the room
Is one of the kindest and most genuine people I have ever met
Has the best worn t-shirts for me to wear to bed
Is a really fucking good writer – what a turn-on
Is willing to put in the work without acting like I’m work
Gives generously
Supports me and my work
Thinks I’m smart and hot
Has an amazing cock – like, damn
Has pets – that’s always a good sign
Gives off major “Daddy” energy
Picks up the tab – sorry, but I like to get treated
Is artistic and likes doing art things with me
Likes my cooking
Has never gaslit me
Clearly has my back
Loves my ass – that’s a non-negotiable
Has chest hair – another non-negotiable
Loves the same music as me
Is nice to his mom
Lets me read aloud to him in the car
Con’s
Feeds his cats wet stinky food
Falls asleep during movies
Wants to fuck every day (just kidding, that’s a pro)
Takes forever to make coffee
Is an “over the roll” T.P. guy
Hasn’t done cocaine
Things I think about when I imagine a home with you:
Goats so we can have goat’s milk and cheese even though I can’t enjoy it. At least I can use the goat milk soap.
A garden with a rotten wooden fence that smells like leather tack and red delicious apples
A king bed with lot of pillows
Big, eastern-facing windows
Egg-producing chickens
Many pets
Curtains, not blinds
A kitchen that is always full of food
Our own studios
Dry, creaking wood floors
Too much art
Books, books, records, books
SEX and lots of it
Candlelight
A hot tub, obviously
We keep joking that we have toxo-plasmosis, the cat litter disease. I keep wondering if we are laying the framework for all the ways we are about to jump off a cliff together.
If you ever invite me to spend a holiday with your family, I promise to:
Take one to two naps per day, esp if people start watching sports.
Disappear without notice when people start reminiscing.
Help with the dishes.
Play with the kids and try to sit at the kids’ table.
To just say, “it’s complicated” if anybody asks about my family, past, or tattoos.
Try to fuck you at inappropriate times in inappropriate places.
What a joy to look ahead to read into the signs of your future. So much happiness is in store for you that the most brilliantly lighted stars will be put to shame by the brightness of your life.
Ah, this is not all caused by sheer good luck. Nay, nay my friend, your perseverance, your clever ways of handling your domestic problems and your sincerity in dealing with others are pointing the way to their reward.
Some strangers will urge you to get into a gambling proposition. Avoid this, and you will be forever grateful.
“Oh happiness what an elusive thing you are<
But thank God you were born beneath its star.”
– Estrella
Movies to Watch Together
Saltburn
War Dogs
Marriage Story (have you seen it? Yes but would watch again. So good. So sad)
Ferrari (yes, I obvi love Adam Driver. I mean… he’s amazing and hot. Haven’t seen this)
Beast
SLC Punk
Paris is Burning
3 Women – Robert Altman
Badlands
Elegy
Memory
Perfect Days (have you seen this? I haven’t. Adam just recommended it (not Driver)) – I haven’t!!
I, Tonya
Hedwig and the angry inch
Pose
The Future
Wild at Heart
The substance
Sylvia
Nyad Infinity pool
Halt and catch fire
Sometimes when I’m having a mental block, I’ll stare off into the distance. If my gaze lands on my oft-unshaved legs when I’m really in deep, there’s a good chance I will suddenly find myself an hour into plucking each hair one by one.
Went for a walk on the longest beach in America. Saw a group of people riding horseback. You told me your grandma’s horse’s name—Lucky. I thought about your horseshoe tattoo. We still barely know each other.
81
I’m doing my nails before Puerto Domingo 👀 💍
80
You are such a good writer. I don’t think you fully realize how good you are yet. I don’t mean that to sound condescending… just that I feel like I’m watching a fucking genius finding her legs, trusting her voice, and already the world is like, “Who the fuck is this???” You’re 3 for 3 in your submissions, and I know this is only the beginning, and that’s so sexy.
79
Am I doing this wrong? Are my oaths too long? I guess I am writing about you, after all.
78
I’m having a hard time writing new stories because all I want to write about is you, but I don’t know how yet. I’ve never written about being happy before. I have to discover a whole new language and new rhythms and new jokes because my sad characters aren’t sad anymore. They keep smiling, and I don’t know what to do with them.
77
I just peeped over at the blood oath you’re writing and it was something about wanting to write about me all the time and I just want you to know that I haven’t written about you yet. No. Not really written. Notes and like diary entries, sure, but not, like, an actual thing. I mean there was that sexy zine love letter but you know what I mean. But that’s a good thing. Because the things I write about are bad and sad, and I feel like I have to give those stories a voice before I start cavalierly writing about chowing down on your cock all the time.
76
At midnight tonight, we’ll have officially been dating for three months, which is funny because there is no fucking way we’ve only been dating for only three months. No seriously. How is that possible? We’ve been dating for three years or thirty or we broke time entirely and we’re drifting sideways in non-time, fucking in some vortex where the world appears to be moving but every day is the same and it’s the best day of my life.
75
When good things happen, you’re the first person I want to tell. When bad things happen, you’re the first person I want to tell. When weird things happen, you’re the first person I want to tell. Live, laugh, love, bitches.
74
We got Covid shots and felt achy so we ordered ramen for delivery and made margaritas and watched a TV show about Northern Ireland and fucked twice and you squirted the second time and I took an Advil and my headache is gone because you said, “Why don’t you take an Advil? No seriously, take an Advil.” I think today was the best day of my life.
73
Although I don’t actually believe in soulmates – who has time to sit up in heaven or wherever and match-make while wars are happening? (wait, maybe that’s why wars are happening????) – you are SO right for me that it almost makes me a believer.
72
We went to see Michael Hurley, but I could barely pay attention because you had the hiccups and then you got the giggles and I’ve never been so in love with you and then we went to your place and I said, “Bobbie has fleas,” and you laughed so hard you could barely breathe, and I couldn’t stop laughing because it wasn’t even funny. Bobbie doesn’t have fleas. You do. You’re covered in them, but I love you anyway.
71
When we were in the waiting room holding tight for our Covid shots, I saw that your jacket was on the floor and for a tiny moment, I thought, “How could I be with someone who’s OK with putting their jacket back on after it’s been on the FLOOR OF A PHARMACY IN A SAFEWAY!?!?!? I mean, Safeway is already a cesspool. Their pharmacy? Absolutely a breeding ground for the black plague. I thought about burning the jacket but ended up fucking you instead.
70
We fell behind a week on our blood oaths. The response from our readers was overwhelming. “Where are you?” they wondered. “Come back! Tell us about your love and your oaths!” No wait. We haven’t told anyone about this yet. It’s just us, oathing into the void, writing these declarations for each other. I keep waiting for someone to find this website. To stumble on it and say, “Who are these beautiful, hot motherfuckers?”
69
I’m sitting with you in bed, cum dripping out of my pussy, talking about how you secretly love Enya and I secretly love Creed and I couldn’t be more in love. I mean, you really accept me for who I am. I didn’t tell you, however, that I stole my mom’s credit card one time in high school to subscribe to monthly deliveries of Pure Moods. I thought I was all deep and shit listening to those CD’s on my discman on the school bus while everyone else was listening to Coolio or Linkin Park, and it’s reassuring to know that somewhere far away, at the same time, you were pretending not to listen to Enya. Oh yeah, I also like Linkin Park.
68
I’ve never been so hot for you as I am when we are editing a story or essay together on the sentence level, breaking that shit down with a kind of specificity that very few people in the world can do, and then we also get to fuck. I definitely died at some point and this is the afterlife and I’m in heaven and it’s goddamn wonderful.
67
I daydream about our future home every single day. And when I do, I don’t think about size or quality or neighborhood. I don’t think about value or nice furniture or amenities. I think, where the hell are we going to put all these books and art!?
66
We became boyfriend and girlfriend on September 8. I just added “make a baby” to our shared Google calendar for your peak ovulation dates in December. This feels exactly right, on time, nailing this.
65
I’ve never considered myself a size queen before, but … it really turns me on every time I think about how tall you are.
64
Last week, I had a pang of insecurity thinking about you doing sex work. I got into my head about it, and for the first time since we started dating, felt threatened by it. You could have been annoyed or frustrated, but instead you made room for my moment of insecurity. You let me talk my way out of it and reassured me, and suddenly I felt like hot shit again, like your bf and capital “D” Daddy and future husband. We fucked three times in a row and now you are sitting across from me reading me sexts by weird horny men who want to send you pictures of them sucking on a dildo, and all I can think is, “I can’t wait until you’re wife.”
63
I love that I’m able to talk about my work with you, especially because the things I usually want to share are screenshots of bewildering chats from clients wanting to talk about things like fucking my face until I vomit, pissing into my mouth, and sharing nudes of their wives (without their permission, of course) in order for me to help “ruin” them. Like, what in the absolute fuck!?!?!?!? It makes the work so much more manageable knowing that you are on the other side, affirming that yes, this is fucked up and that, yes, I should definitely drain them of as much money as possible for giving them a lecture, a spanking, and sending them back home to their mommies.
62
I usually text you a screenshot of my blood oaths when I post them, but I’m going to keep this one a secret. I don’t know when you’ll find it. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe a week from now. Maybe in a year. I’m just going to hide this oath here like a message in the bottle. The message is this: I’m so fucking crazy about you, baby. So crazy. You’ve made my life feel like a shining, new thing. Every day I wake up happy and fall asleep happy, and it’s because I know that at some point I’m going to see you, text you, kiss you, fuck you, watch TV with you, and hold you all night. You’re so fucking hot and cool and smart. I did something right. Seriously. Like… wtf?
61
We just finished our first co-write and I am kind of floored by the way we were both able to offer suggestions, hear each other out, and say, you’re right, from time to time. Don’t get used to hearing me say that, though. It won’t happen often 😉
60
When you’re sitting on my couch with your dog, drinking red wine, wearing my Feelin Groovy t-shirt and 32 Degrees Cool black boxer briefs, I want to fill you up with cum even though I filled you up with cum about 45 minutes ago.
59
I know we’re joking a lot about Momo Driver Maloney but I really do hope I’m pregnant because:
1. I’m ready to move into my pregnant fashion era. Like, I’m already shopping for elastic waistband joggers online.
2. Pregnant porn start titties are great for business.
3. We kind of have to have a kid. We have four pets between the two of us and I feel like we’re starting to move into “crazy cat people” territory – not that that’s a bad thing; don’t cancel me, people of the internet.
3. I need an excuse to knit lots of cute, tiny things.
4. I really feel like what’s missing in my grad program is a baby. Babies make everything better.
5. Our holiday photos would be unhinged.
6. Porn star titties.
7. Tiny clothes.
8. Momo.
58
We wrote our first collaborative story. The word “fuck” appears 20 times. The word “hot” appears five times. The word “pussy” appears three times. The words “cum” and “cock” only appear once each. I am proud of us, and feel like we need to get about 50% nastier next time.
57
I may have given you shit about your stovetop because I secretly hoped you would be the diligent researcher that you are, buy the appropriate stuff, and then let me borrow it after. Plus, I knew you would get a kick at beating me in something … anything … even if it is just stovetop cleanliness. Love you, byeeeeeee!
56
We started an exercise competition. There are apps and Apple Watches and points involved. I don’t entirely understand how it works… only that we are getting healthy and plan to live a long time because we are spinning a roulette wheel in your uterus and if we are going to repopulate the earth with progressive artist babies, they need to be raised by parents who stand up at least once every hour and get 10,000 steps and don’t vape and climb a dozen flight of stairs. We are training for parenthood and the civil war and the apocalypse. I’ve never felt so young even though it’s 38 days until my 48th birthday.
55
I loved you a lot already, but then I met your drooling, snub-tailed cat and your oversized, midnight-snacking dog-cat, and saw how much you loved them yet how little you seemed to know about how or when or where to feed them and noticed cat food overflowing onto the floor from bowls positioned on pretty much every surface in the room – including the coffee table, and your desk, and the bathroom countertop, and the cutting board on the kitchen island – and fell even more in love as I thought to myself, “He’s definitely going to have to marry me now because spouses don’t have to testify against each other and he’s gonna need me to take this shit to my grave,” and, well, there’s just nothing more sexy to a girl than job security.
54
Wait. So you’re also one of the best editors I’ve ever worked with??? *opens private web browser… googles engagement rings*
53
We haven’t oathed about the election yet. It’s been about a week and, while we’ve talked about it, we haven’t (unless you have oathed about it behind my back and I didn’t know it) oathed about it. I’m scared. Yes, abortion is legal in Oregon right now, but what about in a year? I think the only solution is to get pregnant immediately so I can get the care I need if anything goes wrong. We should also have several babies because libs aren’t producing right now and the conservative population is exponentially growing. At this rate, our party is going to disappear faster than the Boomers’ social security benefits. It’s up to us.
52
Update: it’s been pointed out to me that I used the expression “multiple children” in a previous post. I’d just like to clarify that I have recently lost touch with my ability to reason due to being extremely happy and in love, and things come out of my mouth of which I’m not entirely responsible. What I’m saying is, I’m under a spell… the pheromones have me in their clutches… I see children lately and I don’t cringe… I am being pulled into a vortex of sexy, creative fertility and I don’t want it to stop.
51
It’s so refreshing being in a relationship with someone who is super into my opinions and ideas and not just because they are dumb or don’t have any of their own. And even more refreshing that you both like my ideas and have a healthy enough ego to not feel threatened by expressing validation for my ideas. And even MORE refreshing that you are also brilliant and funny and I don’t ever have to fake with you.
50
I used to just dream about one or two small goals that I could work hard at and accomplish because that’s all that I thought was possible. With you, my dreams are getting bigger, wilder, more closely aligned with the life I’ve always wanted. I see collaborative art, novels, paintings, performances, hot sex, hot tubs, saunas, and a farm with multiple children and chickens running around. It doesn’t feel out of reach… it feels like, “Of course that’s what we’re going to do. Look at us. How could we do anything else?”
49
This is the first time we’ve been apart for more than a day at a time since we started dating two months ago and while, yes, absence makes the heart grow fonder and blah blah blah, I would much rather you be in bed next to me right now with my right hand casually gripping your cock, my left hand holding a cup of coffee, and cum dripping steadily from my pussy. Cum home, plz.
48
Remember that time we drove home from Topaz farm and listened to Coyote by Pete Seeger and birds were flying over the Willamette River and we definitely weren’t dating, but I had a sudden flash of understanding of everything that was about to happen between us. I wanted to kiss you so bad, but we just listened to Pete Seeger instead and it was so wonderful and painful and beautiful.
47
There’s nothing more surreal than sitting in bed with your boyfriend of two months while you’re ovulating, planning a trip to Spain, and cum is dripping out of your pussy. We’re being totally reckless and yet I’ve never felt more safe.
46
Magic 8 Ball says “Yes” 👀
45
When I used to think of the future, I’d see myself. Now, I see you there, too, and I don’t want to go back.
44
Now that I’ve woken up spooning you, my morning cock lightly pressing against your ass, I don’t want to wake up any other way ever again.
43
The fact that you actually seem interested in my half-asleep recounting of dreams about black oceans, frozen water, talking to hawks, and waving from the roofs of sinking houses, makes me want to give you ten babies.
42
I keep accidentally calling you my wife. There’s only one way to solve this problem.
41
Every time you walk through the door I’m like, “Oh my god, how did I end up with such a stud?” #availableforbreeding
40
I wasn’t a dog person before I met you. I made fun of dog people. Now I run across the street to hug your dog and call her “my sweet baby girl!” What have you done to me?
39
There’s nobody I’d rather feel old with
38
I am writing a story about your pussy. A few of them. A collection. Novels, I’m pretty sure, will follow. I think I just write about your pussy now. It’s so good. I can’t think about anything else.
37
Addendum to the Pro’s & Con’s List:
Pro’s
Is really really good at making conflict feel like neutral conversation
Has so much cum
Is willing to be an old with me at concerts
Con’s
Presses the elevator button again even when there are people already waiting and it’s clearly already been pressed
Is a little too confident in my ability to walk across town in high heels
36
Remember when we were like, “We should do an art project called Blood Oath Daily where we take turns writing funny / pretty / meditative / horny things about life and each other. That would be rad”? And then I bought the domain and we launched it on the equinox and haven’t missed a day since? I feel like everything we do is going to be this way: a funny / pretty / meditative / horny idea, and then an insane level of follow through resulting in something that is magically, unmistakably a manifestation of the collective “us.”
35
My first-ever Oregon voter ballot came in the mail today. When you told me that voting only happens by mail in Oregon, I felt a pang of regret and nostalgia. Polling places have inhabited such an important place in my life. Obama was the first president I voted for and I spent the months leading up to the election door-knocking, making calls, and helping people navigate transportation to the polling places. Then, when I did political campaign management, I did the same and spent every day of early voting at the polls, campaigning for my candidate from the corner. Later, I’d vote at the polling places my grandmother volunteered at. She would look so professional in her polling place volunteer bib and she’d look so proud to see me there and have the chance to introduce me to her volunteer cohort. Walking into the private booth made me feel, briefly, like I had the ability to impact, in a very small way, the trajectory of our country’s future. I’m tearing up right now thinking about my relationship to the polling locations and also how inaccessible they were. So many votes weren’t cast because folks had to work, or had transportation obstacles, or weren’t able to leave their houses. This will be my first time voting by mail and, at first, I felt robbed. But then, after carrying the ballot upstairs, I realized – this will be the first time I’ll ever be able to vote with somebody, and that somebody will be you. A new tradition, in a new place, with the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.
34
Glow™ Report: Momo is a no go. We will not-try* again.
*secretly kind of try
33
OK, so I researched the correct way to hang the toilet paper roll and here’s what Google’s generative AI situation had to say and I swear some man in an argument with his girlfriend made this shit up. Like, it “reduces airborne micoorganisms in a room by 20-30%”!?!?!?? No, that’s fake news. I did like the part where it said that some people prefer to hang it under because it’s “easier to find in the middle of the night.” This thing is full of contradictions because one of the arguments for the “over” method is because it’s “easier to grab.” Which is it!?
32
When you notice me looking at your ass, you turn away from me and lean over slightly and say, “What?” and I say, “Oh my God you’re killing me,” and you say, “What… this?” and I say, “Seriously, I’m dying,” and you say, “What… I’m so confused,” and you lean over to pick some imaginary object off the ground and then I die.
31
If you ever decide to call a phone sex line, it had better be mine. I’m the only person allowed to tell you, “I need your cum! Ropes of cum!”
30
For real though… I’m totally, completely, madly, batshit crazy in love with you [heart eyes emoji][upside down face emoji][lying on the floor incapacitated by how much you’ve made my heart like a giant red balloon engorged with blood and feelings emoji].
29
I feel like I could survive anything with you.
28
Saw Adam Driver in a play, then went back to our hotel and broke another seal. The big one. Now we have a new joke: pointing at your belly and calling what might be inside Momo. As in “Momo will be a genius. She’ll have great hair. One day we’ll tell her about the night we saw Adam Driver.” We keep telling the joke and laughing, but maybe it isn’t totally a joke and maybe we don’t entirely want it to be.
27
If we had to jump from a sinking ship in hypothermic waters and only had a fairly large wooden slab to cling to, I would definitely make room for you.
26
Last night you cooked me a steak dinner, then fucked me better than I’ve ever been fucked. This morning, you said I looked like Poseidon. I’m not saying you’re a benevolent witch slowly transforming me into a Norse god, but I’m not not saying it either.
25
Remember when we both wanted to say, “I love you,” but instead said, “I really … what’s that word again? I think there’s a word for the thing we’re feeling. It’s not “like” but we couldn’t possibly say, you know … what could it be? That was fun but also a lot of words to say.
24
On our second date, you asked me if I had any kinks. I said I didn’t think so, but I wasn’t sure. A month later, I’ve got a full-blown Daddy complex with a rapidly developing breeding fantasy.
23
Most of my relationships have made my life feel smaller.
In this one, it feels expansive.
22
I asked, “Do you want to get married someday?”
You thought I said “Sunday.”
We saw a coyote, then a deer. Pretty sure you’re my wife now.
21
Pro’s
Has the best laugh, hair, and style in the room
Is one of the kindest and most genuine people I have ever met
Has the best worn t-shirts for me to wear to bed
Is a really fucking good writer – what a turn-on
Is willing to put in the work without acting like I’m work
Gives generously
Supports me and my work
Thinks I’m smart and hot
Has an amazing cock – like, damn
Has pets – that’s always a good sign
Gives off major “Daddy” energy
Picks up the tab – sorry, but I like to get treated
Is artistic and likes doing art things with me
Likes my cooking
Has never gaslit me
Clearly has my back
Loves my ass – that’s a non-negotiable
Has chest hair – another non-negotiable
Loves the same music as me
Is nice to his mom
Lets me read aloud to him in the car
Con’s
Feeds his cats wet stinky food
Falls asleep during movies
Wants to fuck every day (just kidding, that’s a pro)
Takes forever to make coffee
Is an “over the roll” T.P. guy
Hasn’t done cocaine
20
You’re so hot.
19
Things I think about when I imagine a home with you:
Goats so we can have goat’s milk and cheese even though I can’t enjoy it. At least I can use the goat milk soap.
A garden with a rotten wooden fence that smells like leather tack and red delicious apples
A king bed with lot of pillows
Big, eastern-facing windows
Egg-producing chickens
Many pets
Curtains, not blinds
A kitchen that is always full of food
Our own studios
Dry, creaking wood floors
Too much art
Books, books, records, books
SEX and lots of it
Candlelight
A hot tub, obviously
18
We keep joking that we have toxo-plasmosis, the cat litter disease. I keep wondering if we are laying the framework for all the ways we are about to jump off a cliff together.
17
Daddy?
16
Let’s keep texting each other our Co-Star reading every morning, even when we wake up in the same bed.
15
I promise to suck your cock any time you ask for it, unless I’ve just eaten.
14
Your belt buckle says Wyoming, but you keep calling it your “Montana” belt.
13
If you ever invite me to spend a holiday with your family, I promise to:
Take one to two naps per day, esp if people start watching sports.
Disappear without notice when people start reminiscing.
Help with the dishes.
Play with the kids and try to sit at the kids’ table.
To just say, “it’s complicated” if anybody asks about my family, past, or tattoos.
Try to fuck you at inappropriate times in inappropriate places.
12
You gave me a backrub after cooking me a steak and I almost started crying, I was so happy.
11
My intuitive understanding of you is a gift.
You understand me with your entire body.
Let’s communicate in scents.
10
Every time the tarot reading is good, we say, “Fuck yeah!” Every time it is foreboding, we say, “That doesn’t make sense.”
9
What a joy to look ahead to read into the signs of your future. So much happiness is in store for you that the most brilliantly lighted stars will be put to shame by the brightness of your life.
Ah, this is not all caused by sheer good luck. Nay, nay my friend, your perseverance, your clever ways of handling your domestic problems and your sincerity in dealing with others are pointing the way to their reward.
Some strangers will urge you to get into a gambling proposition. Avoid this, and you will be forever grateful.
“Oh happiness what an elusive thing you are< But thank God you were born beneath its star.” – Estrella
8
7
Movies to Watch Together
Saltburn
War Dogs
Marriage Story (have you seen it? Yes but would watch again. So good. So sad)
Ferrari (yes, I obvi love Adam Driver. I mean… he’s amazing and hot. Haven’t seen this)
Beast
SLC Punk
Paris is Burning
3 Women – Robert Altman
Badlands
Elegy
Memory
Perfect Days (have you seen this? I haven’t. Adam just recommended it (not Driver)) – I haven’t!!
I, Tonya
Hedwig and the angry inch
Pose
The Future
Wild at Heart
The substance
Sylvia
Nyad
Infinity poolHalt and catch fire
6
Let’s never be mad at each other, and when we are mad at each other, let it be the right amount of mad, for the right amount of time.
5
Something you should know about me:
Sometimes when I’m having a mental block, I’ll stare off into the distance. If my gaze lands on my oft-unshaved legs when I’m really in deep, there’s a good chance I will suddenly find myself an hour into plucking each hair one by one.
4
Went for a walk on the longest beach in America. Saw a group of people riding horseback. You told me your grandma’s horse’s name—Lucky. I thought about your horseshoe tattoo. We still barely know each other.
3
Long Beach, Washington
Clams
Caesar salad
Steak
Salmon
Red Wine
Chicken salad
Mussels
Fish and Chips
Bloody Mary
Strawmelon apple vape
2
blood oath (noun): an oath taken by two or more people in which they ceremonially use or exchange each other’s blood.
1
Let’s never be mad at each other.