Monday, August 20, 2007

Anti-Feminist Agenda

Being home means lots of bonding with my mom. She and my dad have just separated, and that's pretty much all we talk about. Sometimes it's fascninating and sometimes I'm so bored I want to die. She is very much of a different generation, and it's not that she's more traditional, it's more that in her attempt to be progressive, she lost what I would consider common sense. Things that should be obvious are somehow groundbreaking.

She tells me, "You know, I read in one of my books" (these fucking books are everywhere, with the most embarassing titles splashed across the front) "...that it is important for men to have a wife that is attractive, and also that they want for other people to think she is attractive." Imagine that. "And also, it's not that they just want sex all the time, which, oh god they do, it's terrible..." (Really? Terrible?) "...but they really want to think that you like having sex with them!"

I try to be nice, this is so hard for her, but sometimes I can't help but stare in disbeleif when she says these things. I said, "Well, yes, I would imagine so. I....I mean, I wouldn't know"

She says, "I bet that for a man, if a woman really loved having sex with him, he'd marry her in an instant. She'd never have to worry about anything because he would never leave her if she really always wanted to have sex with him."

I didn't know what to say. I think I said something along the lines of, "Oh I'm sure that's an oversimplification, I don't know about that." How could she even say that? I guess it's a convenient theory for her. It would be much easier for her to blame her lack of interest in sex than something more fundementally wrong, something she cared about more. I think she considered sex with her husband a form of subjugation, maybe she felt very liberated by not having to have sex with him. I don't know. One time she told me only prostitutes performed oral sex. I thought sex with my husband would be the best part of marriage. I mean, partly for my own gratification (obviously) but also, I just like taking care of a boy, taking the time to give a well-deserved blow job seems like an extension of that, like cooking dinner and listening to his probelms and rubbing his back when he's tired. I know, I know, I'm not a very good feminist. Just don't tell my mom.

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Wednesday, August 15, 2007


Without fail, any success with one guy begetts more. It shouldn't suprise me anymore, especially since it makes such perfect sense. I mean, how attractive am I when it's clear to everyone around me I haven't gotten any in months? That drain on my self-esteem is probably palpable. But the upward trend is even more noteable.

The drunk dial praise I got a week ago gave me a little momentum, I know that makes me lame as hell but hey, I'll take it. That gave me the boost to get off my ass and go see that guy, even though I'd been psyching myself out, thinking he would most likely be disappointed with me.

Coming home on the train, this guy across the asile is sneaking glances. Mmm hi. As he gets off the train he taps me on the shoulder.
"Excuse me beutiful, I think you dropped this?" I look at the piece of paper in his hand.
"What?" I am so smooth.
"That's my phone number, I think you dropped it, here ya go."
Then I tried to be cool and flirty. I think it worked. "Oh thanks, I was looking for that."
"Good, I hope I talk to you soon."

How fucking cute, right? That's never happened to me before, someone randomly giving me their phone number!

Then a friend of mine asked me to go to a movie with him this afternoon. I figured a movie at 1:30 would mean no hooking up. He brought me chocoalte from his trip to Switzerland, bought the tickets in advance so I couldn't protest, held my hand throughout the movie, tried to surreptitiously move his hand up my skirt while I kept my legs tightly crossed. He brought me home and we made out on my couch, high school stylee. After probably confusing the hell out of him with my inability to put out, I pretty much kicked him out. What a bitch. Sorry sweetie, your timing was just so off.

But I am afraid now that in doing that, I have stopped the trend; I'm about to get some bad karma.

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Tuesday, August 14, 2007


I wasn't even going to go at first. I starting talking to this boy I went out with two years ago, just flirting a little online, talking about how much fun we used to have. I'd always back off when he wanted to make plans to see each other. This boy is lovely, so sweet to me, chilled out and fun, fucking gorgeous blonde hair blue eyes tall great shoulders. When we were together 2 years back, he would sometimes look at me in that adoring, heartbreakingly sweet way that I didn't think I could possibly deserve, since I felt like I was just going through the motions.

He was great to be around but I had never wanted him bad, I didn't ache for him, I didn't lose my mind when he fucked me. He'd never gotten me off, and that didn't seem like a problem to him. Being 18, I wasn't so demanding back then, but that certainly did nothing to motivate me to go see him. Planning a visit, he was raving about how great I am at giving head (and yeah, you should always say that to a girl, I know) and he said, "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you, too" Oh really? That'll be interesting. "I have the place to myself, we can just hang out all day, laying out in the sun, fooling around, drinking a lil, be naked all day, just have a nice little vacation for you before you go back to school." Well ok.

In the car on the way to his house, we were both eye-fucking the shit out of each other. I thought, I don't care if he can't bone, dude looks good. Back at his house, I sat on the couch and glanced across the room at him, tracing my collarbone with my finger. Kind of shamelessly. "Oh babe," he said, dropping his things and walking towards me. "Look at you." Making out on his couch, I started to realize this was not the same guy from two years ago. This kid had grown up. When his hand slid up my skirt I figured out he was going to be orders of magnitude better. Soon he was making me moan and laying me down on my back. He pulled my leg over his shoulder and started fucking me slowly, perfectly, better than I could imagine. My skin was on fire.

Where did you come from? How long have you been able to do that? Why didn't you tell me? Baby if I had known what you could do to me, I'd have come to see you months ago. I would have made time.

We stayed in our underwear all day, sitting outside drinking and smoking, coming back inside to play some more. He more than "took care of me," I came so hard and for so long I thought I would never walk again and I didn't really care. I still can't beleive this is the boy from 2 years ago, the one that told me not to move my hips when we fucked cause it would make him cum too fast, the one that said doggy style was gross, the one who didn't know what a clit was. I don't know what happened, but he should be very pleased with himself. He fucked me every way possible all over that house, and every time, every position was perfect, fluid, and beautiful to watch. I wish I had a camera. Everything came naturally- I've never been a fan of being on top, but straddling his lap, my hips just went and went, thinking for themselves, grinding perfect circles up and down on his dick. The entire day was this deep slow burn, amazingly getting better and better each time.

The weird thing is, it was like boyfriend sex. That's the only way I can think to describe it. I mean, it was incredibly hot, which was enough of a suprise, but it felt like he wanted to take all of me in, he took his time even as I was bucking my hips against him. He would stop for a few seconds and just look at me, run his hands over my body, brush the hair out of my eyes, kiss my neck.... After we were done he would stay inside me, holding me and kissing me.

The next day he made me breakfast and I layed out on his patio. He brought me a drink, just generally spoiled the hell out of me. He sprayed both of us down with the mist setting on the hose, little droplets of water beading up on our skin. As I layed there drying off in the sun, he got up and came over to me. "Ok you just look too good right now, I have to have you." He pulled off my suit and his and went at it in the backyard. I can't even tell you how many times I have fanatsized about that, laying out tanning until some gorgeous boy tears off my bathing suit and takes me right there. God, I nearly died.

When we weren't doing that we were talking all night, life stories and everything. Why was I so dismissive of him for so long? This kid is perfect, but I can't be with him. I felt like I was right where I wanted to be, completely at ease. Standing in his kitchen, he pulled me close to him and brushed my hair out of my eyes and said, "I could fall in love with you, you know." Oh don't tell me that.

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Friday, August 10, 2007

The Office-Mate

This guy that works in my office is incredibly awkward, and not in a fun-weird way. He's the kind of awkward where his contributions to a conversation are always followed by uncomfortable silences. He's got a little Napoleon Dynamite in him. The first time he drank with us, I found him alone in my roommate's dark room lying on the floor. For final presentations, we dressed up a little, some guys wore ties, some wore sport coats. This guy wore an oversized, boldly pinstriped suit and a shiny doubleknotted tie. He stayed in that suit for 3 more hours after we got back from work.

Last night, after getting drunk with us, he gives me a slightly slurred call-

"Since I'm not gonna see you again, I just wanted to tell you that I think you're like, really hot. Seriously Sarah, no you are, yeah, you're gorgeous. I mean, I'd say you're like a 9. on a 1 to 10 scale. I mean, if I didn't have a girlfriend I'd totally be trying to hook up with you huh huh huh.... yeah and like, don't feel like, bad that you don't have a boyfriend, you're really pretty and you just need to put yourself out there more, and just like, keep in mind that a lot of guys are really shy too, and they don't wanna tell you this stuff, and um, some guys may seem really weird and a little creepy but when you get to know them they're really smart. Yeah. So yeah, I think you're really hot. We should keep in touch. Yeah ok bye."

First of all, I'm not that hot. On a good day, maybe a 7. These days I'm averaging 5. I have a gargantuan beer belly, my skin looks like I've been partying for a month straight (which shouldn't suprise me) and I have about 2 inches of dark roots in my hair. Last night I was looking especiall un-gorgeous, having ran around drunk in the rain in lieu of taking a shower.

But I'll take it. I feel pretty bad-ass right now. It's kind of sweet, right?

I have this inconvenient habit of being overly friendly to guys I think are freaking weirdos. It's so much easier to talk to someone when you think you're cooler than them. Around someone I was actually into I would just be weird and unpleasantly awkward.... kinda like this guy.

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Friday, August 03, 2007

The Agent Provocateur sale has started.
I really shouldn't buy things I can't afford.
I don't think I can help myself...

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