It's been a long day.

So I just finished reading my first "sex book." It was three hundred pages and I read it in less than two days. And yet, not very satisfying. The sex descriptions weren't too bad. But the author used medical-like words, like "penis" and "vagina." When you're having sex, do you think, "oh I hope he sticks his 'penis' in my 'vagina"? It's probably more like "dick" and "pussy." Right? Well anyways. The biggest problem with this book, and I'm sure most "sex books," is that there is very little to it. A very simple plot, two or three main characters, and sex. And that's it. That's all there is to it. No real substance. No real life feeling. Very little to relate to. I couldn't feel for the characters as they went through hard times, because I didn't really know them. The books that are the best, describe the characters not only physically, but also emotionally. You know who they are. And in this book, the characters were like complete strangers until the very end. Not satisfying at all.
Next subject is potty training. My boyfriend's son is two. My boyfriend and his son's mom, I'll call her Valerie, share their son 50/50. Except for the last few weeks. We had him for about a week and a half and then Valerie had him for almost three weeks because my boyfriend went to Iowa for a week. Well when we dropped the little guy off at his mom's, he was basically potty trained. He told us when he had to go pee and he used the toilet a few times every hour. He was wearing real underwear all the time, except during his nap and at night. Well, after being at his mom's for almost three weeks, we picked him up the other day and it's like starting from square one. She hasn't kept up with the potty training at all. She learned in her parenting class that most boys aren't even totally potty trained until age 3. Well don't you want your son to be above average? I know that if he was my son, I'd want him to be potty trained and above everyone! He's not my son and I still want that for him.
And last of all is my apartment complex. We smoke. On the third floor. My neighbors do as well, as do the people below us. I've seen both flick cigarettes off their balconies onto the grass below, creating literally a minefield of cigarette butts, many of them half smoked. Yesterday while I was at work, the management and maintinence told everyone they had twenty four hours to pick up any cigarette butts outside their place or they would get a $25 fine. The girl next to me picked up all of hers and Carl and I picked up about half of the butts below us, because the people below us smoke and flick as well. When I told the young girl in the office this news this morning, she basically told me that if they weren't all picked up by noon, I would be the one getting in trouble. Are you fucking kidding me? So after bitching her out as nicely as possible, Carl and I picked them all up and stored them in our garage, so if they ever say anything to me about butts on the ground, I will show them the bag because I am through with it. I have an ashtray and none of our friends flick the butts over anymore. So they can kiss my ass. Luckily for that girl, because I did have it in my mind to go yell at her in person, I did get an apology from another lady, one who understands that it wasn't just me. Oh God I can't wait to move.
Yay I have all my bitching out for the day.