Is This The Light Of A New Day Dawning?
'Why live in the world when you can live in your head?'
------ "Monday Morning", Pulp: A Different Class
I feel tired, restless and alone. I'm getting plenty of rest. I don't work too many hours a week. I am mostly engaged when I am working. I don't feel lonely; I feel misunderstood. I want Jarvis to wrap his gangly arms around me and caress me with his extra-terrestrial-like fingers because he's the only one who understands.
John Q. is seriously flirting with me.
I made the mistake of showing him my post from last week. The one about him. On one hand it was good that he saw it. I'd forgotten how difficult it is to start a new job; one has to deal with different personalities, individual quirks and try to fit in somehow. I didn't realise how my laughing could have been misconstrued as mocking. After reading the post he understood.
After reading the post, John Q. Arms-of-Lusciousness held a new power.
What have I done?
This weekend John Q. was being extremely flirty with The Comrade. The Comrade didn't half mind. Not only are his arms of exemplary quality, the rest of it bears no flies. Warm. Hard, yet supple. Fragrance free. Perfect physical build. Over the course of two days he embraced me several times from the front and from behind - while, with his thumb, gently caressing my rib and getting dangerously close to my right breast. And he kissed the back of my bare left shoulder. I swear I felt wetness trickle down my thigh.
It's winter. I should stop wearing skirts.
I hate that he's doing this and I love that he's doing this. I'm am reminded that sexual harassment is only sexual harassment if one of the parties is unattractive. It is incredibly distracting and I long for his touch. He will make me drop plates.
Looking around the restaurant this weekend I discovered that the only couples that seemed happy, that enjoyed each other's company, that listened to the other, that laughed together, were gay. Men and women alike. All the straight couples seemed bored, restricted, unchallenged, unloved, compliant, unforgiving, impatient, unwanted, undersexed. In a word: miserable. This blatant unhappiness, displayed like a carousel in front of me, confirmed my mandate, my new mantra:
I am NEVER getting married again.
The problem is I can't see myself being with anyone in much of any capacity, right now. Really... ever again. I do want deep meaning in so much of my life. I crave new experiences all the time. New people. I like the "idea" of sex. I'm just having a difficult time with the actualisation, the physicalities, of sex. The mechanics. Another person.
There's a local sex shop in Toronto called Come As You Are. They have a very informative site about products, classes they offer, and they offer a few How To online tutorials. I found out how to have female ejaculations. Now everytime I do it with myself I can achieve these. Coupled with my ability to reach orgasm just with my mind, I am having the best (with myself) sex of my life. I don't have to deal with the individual quirks, idiosyncracies, bad odours, insensitive hands, the wrong thing said (which leads to talking), and the presence of a man.
I spoke of the importance of having prospects in the past. I'm adding an amendment: It's very important to have viable, significant and good prospects. I have none right now.
This is what's going on:
I have friends and family that miss me but I don't have the strength to see/talk to right now.
I'm concerned I have had more of an affinity for my online friends than my flesh and blood friends.
Wow! The amount of dust bunnies that collect under a bed during a spell of non-cleaning.
Today I finally, thoroughly, cleaned my house, did further adventures in laundry and put away all of the clean clothes. I haven't done this in at least a month, if not two. I finally felt like it.
Lately I haven't done anything I don't feel like doing.
I have a job that is two nights great, two nights ass. But is something I love.
I finally have a life that is truly, fully my own and half the time I don't know what to do with it.
I go to sleep somewhere between the hours of 3:30 to 7:30am. And often feel bad about it.
I drink everyday but don't get drunk very often.
I don't self-medicate. I prefer to feel.
I treat alcohol as a social lubricant.
I do like how I feel after having a double vodka, on the rocks, with a squeeze of lemon.
The second one is nice too.
The third one, in succession, is overkill. This is when I start wrestling with friends. Literally.
I bought my first downfilled winter jacket this year. It feels like having a duvet around me. I get cozy/sleepy when I put it on. Also, it's beautiful. I look like Nanuck of the North when I wear it with the hood up. All chicks dig it, for some reason. When I was talking to the salesguy about cleaning it (it's white), he said I can machine wash it. Excellent. I was concerned about maintaining its whiteness. He said, "You're just going skiing. It's not like you're going to wrestle in it." So not the Amazing Kreskin, he. Ack, the ex-husband/best friend and I had a good laugh over that one.
Other than the wrestling, I feel sort of lost.
------ "Monday Morning", Pulp: A Different Class
I feel tired, restless and alone. I'm getting plenty of rest. I don't work too many hours a week. I am mostly engaged when I am working. I don't feel lonely; I feel misunderstood. I want Jarvis to wrap his gangly arms around me and caress me with his extra-terrestrial-like fingers because he's the only one who understands.
John Q. is seriously flirting with me.
I made the mistake of showing him my post from last week. The one about him. On one hand it was good that he saw it. I'd forgotten how difficult it is to start a new job; one has to deal with different personalities, individual quirks and try to fit in somehow. I didn't realise how my laughing could have been misconstrued as mocking. After reading the post he understood.
After reading the post, John Q. Arms-of-Lusciousness held a new power.
What have I done?
This weekend John Q. was being extremely flirty with The Comrade. The Comrade didn't half mind. Not only are his arms of exemplary quality, the rest of it bears no flies. Warm. Hard, yet supple. Fragrance free. Perfect physical build. Over the course of two days he embraced me several times from the front and from behind - while, with his thumb, gently caressing my rib and getting dangerously close to my right breast. And he kissed the back of my bare left shoulder. I swear I felt wetness trickle down my thigh.
It's winter. I should stop wearing skirts.
I hate that he's doing this and I love that he's doing this. I'm am reminded that sexual harassment is only sexual harassment if one of the parties is unattractive. It is incredibly distracting and I long for his touch. He will make me drop plates.
Looking around the restaurant this weekend I discovered that the only couples that seemed happy, that enjoyed each other's company, that listened to the other, that laughed together, were gay. Men and women alike. All the straight couples seemed bored, restricted, unchallenged, unloved, compliant, unforgiving, impatient, unwanted, undersexed. In a word: miserable. This blatant unhappiness, displayed like a carousel in front of me, confirmed my mandate, my new mantra:
I am NEVER getting married again.
The problem is I can't see myself being with anyone in much of any capacity, right now. Really... ever again. I do want deep meaning in so much of my life. I crave new experiences all the time. New people. I like the "idea" of sex. I'm just having a difficult time with the actualisation, the physicalities, of sex. The mechanics. Another person.
There's a local sex shop in Toronto called Come As You Are. They have a very informative site about products, classes they offer, and they offer a few How To online tutorials. I found out how to have female ejaculations. Now everytime I do it with myself I can achieve these. Coupled with my ability to reach orgasm just with my mind, I am having the best (with myself) sex of my life. I don't have to deal with the individual quirks, idiosyncracies, bad odours, insensitive hands, the wrong thing said (which leads to talking), and the presence of a man.
I spoke of the importance of having prospects in the past. I'm adding an amendment: It's very important to have viable, significant and good prospects. I have none right now.
This is what's going on:
I have friends and family that miss me but I don't have the strength to see/talk to right now.
I'm concerned I have had more of an affinity for my online friends than my flesh and blood friends.
Wow! The amount of dust bunnies that collect under a bed during a spell of non-cleaning.
Today I finally, thoroughly, cleaned my house, did further adventures in laundry and put away all of the clean clothes. I haven't done this in at least a month, if not two. I finally felt like it.
Lately I haven't done anything I don't feel like doing.
I have a job that is two nights great, two nights ass. But is something I love.
I finally have a life that is truly, fully my own and half the time I don't know what to do with it.
I go to sleep somewhere between the hours of 3:30 to 7:30am. And often feel bad about it.
I drink everyday but don't get drunk very often.
I don't self-medicate. I prefer to feel.
I treat alcohol as a social lubricant.
I do like how I feel after having a double vodka, on the rocks, with a squeeze of lemon.
The second one is nice too.
The third one, in succession, is overkill. This is when I start wrestling with friends. Literally.
I bought my first downfilled winter jacket this year. It feels like having a duvet around me. I get cozy/sleepy when I put it on. Also, it's beautiful. I look like Nanuck of the North when I wear it with the hood up. All chicks dig it, for some reason. When I was talking to the salesguy about cleaning it (it's white), he said I can machine wash it. Excellent. I was concerned about maintaining its whiteness. He said, "You're just going skiing. It's not like you're going to wrestle in it." So not the Amazing Kreskin, he. Ack, the ex-husband/best friend and I had a good laugh over that one.
Other than the wrestling, I feel sort of lost.
posted by Comrade Chicken at
10:33 p.m.
3 Comments:
i think what it boils down to, and i struggle with this very much, is that there is an idea(l) of what our lives are supposed to be, supposed to contain. in fact, there are a few variations on the ideal that are acceptable. the one thing that isn't mentioned as a destination, but rather only ever as part of the journey, is feeling complete whilst being alone, or not needing/wanting another in order to feel fulfilled. i think if there was more of an approval, praise or even just encouragement of this as a viable path, then we probably wouldn't question our choices nearly as much. not that we need/seek approval, but i think it is pretty true that we have to be strong and hold fast to our convictions/choices when they veer from the norm. and that can be exhausting and lead us to doubt ourselves.
By
whatever, at 2:15 p.m.
that being said, i think that what i see as a destination now may in fact just be part of the journey, because not until i fully explore where i'm at will i discover the path that leads me onward.
whew! and, scene.
you know chicky, you have had an effect on my commenting. i'm getting much longer, at least when it relates to you. and i'm okay with that. i like when things/people draw me out.
By
whatever, at 3:31 p.m.
High praise indeed, Sargeant.
And the stuff that's coming out is very good, hella insightful and very helpful.
Thank you again.
Worker!... Wacked?
By
Comrade Chicken, at 7:50 p.m.
Post a Comment
<< Home