There is a small subset of the population which truly are my kryptonite. They all appear to have the following similarities:
- They are big dudes. Seriously, we are talking that guy that when they walk in the room people say, “whoa”. Usually over 6′ 3″.
- They are very smart.
- They are very dour.
- They are intrigued by me, sort of attracted to me, but don’t really like me very much.
The first version of my kryptonite I married, the second moved to another country while I was out-of-town, and the third one just disappeared before I could ever kiss him in person. I *should* be thankful that I didn’t get a chance to do something stupid like fall in love with him. But boy howdy is it going to be awkward when we run into each other (notice I didn’t say “if”? yeah, the Gods love awkward way too much for it to be “if we ever run into each other”).
The problem with H-Kryptonite is that I *want* to make them happy. Everything inside me screams to do everything I can to make them happy–but when they aren’t (see #3) it hurts me because I feel like I failed. Lame, right?
So, new rule? If a suitor comes my way and they display any version of #4 – it is a HELL NO because I deserve better. If they have either #1 or #2 (yay!) but if they combine either of those with a #3 I’m thinking itsa no.
I need a flow chart.
I have not had sex in a Very Long Time.
I haven’t even played with myself in a very long time.
I was given an offer by the visiting husband and shockingly (like, I was seriously shocked by this) I turned him down. Why!?! you may be asking. Well, I’ll tell ya.
I didn’t wanna. Normally I would beg for it…but for some reason I had the thought that if I fucked him, it would be 6 minutes of fun followed by months of frustrated angry rage. So I thought to myself–huh, maybe this is why people give up on sex.
Probably this won’t be forever…I’m sure once he leaves I will be back at myself like a monkey with a pleasure button. But this visit of his has been a roller coaster of emotions. I love him I hate him I want a divorce please move here….it’s been f’n exhausting.
So please excuse me from the fun smuttery for a little while.
Hey folks. Been back in the routine at work for a week now.
Its been good. Weird not seeing psycho everyday.
He is on vacation.
I think the Tiger Woods thing freaked him out.
Hell, it freaked *me* out.
Now I’ve got Bear talking about video….I don’t know people….
This may be it.
I may be done with sex.
Oh the rant…how I need thee.
*deep breath* I’m bitchy. And today I am going to write it all down here. Ready, here goes.
Happy thanksgiving–I didn’t get laid once. I paid for a hotel room with a giant jacuzzi tub in it. Which I happily enjoyed by myself, don’t get me wrong, but fuck. dude. I can’t even get hotel room sex out of the person I married? Christ…whats the point anymore.
Happy thanksgiving–my family is an asshole. all of them. okay…they probably aren’t all assholes and there is a better way to look at them, etc. but fuck…they all need to be on behavior meds or nice pills or something. Christ. I’m reconnecting with old step-family which I think is nice and adult….esp. since my current step family my dad is married to…well, she is a psycho bitch who won’t see me (so I am not allowed to go to their house. *deep sigh*
Then, the guy who I have been falling in love with, well, our playful texting may have gotten out of hand. I am submissive; llllooooove to be dominated but as soon as a fist comes flying at me I immedietly want to fight. And I fight dirty and hit hard. Slap my ass, whip me, slap my body (face slapping gives me the same feeling as punched), pinch me, tie me up, make me face the corner….whatever, but as soon as a closed fist comes my way it makes me block and counter. too many years of training to fight that instinct. So now he and I are all awkward. grrrrrrr.
then I get home and well, most of my beer is gone, my gas tank is half empty (full when I left), and I fucking had to get a cab from the goddamn airport. and I arrived to an electric bill higher than anything else I have ever had.
and kinda want to hit someone.
I’m aware I have been a slacker but well, I’m lazy.
Things are mucho better on the cervical front. I’m sure you all spent your waking hours worrying.
So, I learned something recently; like seriously…did you know that fucking someone doesn’t make you friends?!? Actually, you all probably did–its just me that rides the short bus. *sigh* After some awkward work moments (shaking the angry fist at Mr. Blingy) AND you too Psycho (I blow a razzberry in both your general directions!!!). But after a long conversation this morning with Love (yes, he is not allowed to talk to me often; but once in a while we get to IM) it turns out that *I* am the weird one. Most folks do not have most of their ex-boyfriends (ex-bedmates) attend their wedding. Nor have they slept with the majority of the bridesmaids.
I’m not going to lie. I’m flummoxed here. My best friend (E) is the first woman I ever, urm…did. We just exhanged texts while I was mid-post.
So, I got nuthin. seriously. I can’t be the only person I know who is friends with people they have fucked–additionally I am instituting a new rule.
NEW RULE: There will never be fucking unless we are friends afterwards. hrmmm. wait a minute.
NEW RULE (amended): There will never be fucking unless we are friends before hand. Phone/text sex doesn’t count. Neither does it count if you are just covering me in oil and making me cum. It only counts if…. *scratches head* This is hard. I may need to develop some sort of flow chart….
NEW RULE (v3): Okay, if we fool around don’t be an asshole.
There, version 3 sums it up. Whenever I flirt with someone (fool around with, hang out with…whatever…you get the point) I get attached. Usually for a short time although sometimes for 15 years or so (Love and I are well on our way to having a tryst by the time we turn 80 or so. *sigh* ) For a few days post orgasm (be it self induced while on the phone, whatever) I need attention. I’m not too proud to admit that. I have a vagina–hells, most (some?) of ya’ll have seen it–additonally I have feelings.
So yes, don’t be an asshole is a good rule: take it and implement it in your daily lives.