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My life is made of school and work. It's the perogative of every Cornell student that you're not going to have much of a life unless you really don't need to sleep. I work with maybe 4 hours of sleep on a good night, and at some point I just sort of crash somewhere and sleep for 26 hours or something. Otherwise I'm like a dolphin, half my brain can sleep and the other do stuff.

It's a lie, but I wish it wasn't. I wonder if dolphins have breath-play games...

Summer is made of work and more work. I'm domming my way through college and during the summer I can take on a much heavier load, 9-13 clients a night as opposed to 2-4 maybe. Bow chicka wa wa.

Not that I can always get 9-13, the paid dommes are for the kinds of people who want to play but don't have a long-term partner and really don't want to do the one night stand thing because...yeah it'll either end in bad-pain or lawsuits.

So now my Gaia life seems mostly to be about updating a journal that two people read.

Charles is doing well, he got two new models, and that's amazing considering he only photographs people he knows really well, he doesn't have to like them, but he has to know them. He has really attractive friends so it works out.

His new ones are... well they're damn sexy and even better together, or that was my first impression. The guy? Ugggg built without being <i>built</i> like he works hard for a living instead of playing with machines. Which means it's all lilth and deadly and the big ones may look good tied up, but there is no greater high in all the world of drugs and extreme sports than having someone who looks deadly and damn beautiful at the end of lead and following you because they want too.

So good.

The girl was girl-next-door type, big brown eyes and curly brown hair, in <i>ringlets</i> and I love every color of eye you can imagine, really I do, but there's something about brown that's addicting.

She was the kind of girl who boys would tease her mercilessly to see her blush or, even better, cry, because they're the big eyes that are spectacular when she's crying. Nicer boys would try to get her to cryu from laughing, but it's the same idea.

On the other hand a girl with those eyes can get whatever she wants just be giving you puppy eyes and your heart just stops beating for a second.

Like a said, fantastic. I could wax poetic all day, but no one wants that.

So after the girl goes and makes-up her eyes, because while I can have ******** eyes and you-aren't-worth-my-time eyes at the same time she had... uggg she had eyes that gave you ever signal in the book.

She is also, apparently, Romanian and doesn't speak a word of English, her boyfriend is from Maine and speaks a lot of English and a lot of...Romanian? Is it? I don't know.

All I'm saying is that now, when you walk into our appartment, there's this huge brown eye that looks at you with 'yes please' eyes mixed with 'I'm sorry' and 'why do you do this to me?'

Or in short, I orgasm every time I come home.