Another Sex Blog

OMG OMG OMG.

Look. If you in ANY WAY KIND OF SORT OF relate to the guests on Jerry Springer, please do not contact me (unless I’m working on some sort of thesis for a PhD).

btw, my period of depression is on the upswing… not completely over, but by now I’m aware of the process…. right now I’m feeling hermit-ish, but not at the bottom of the pit. In case you were wondering.

I really like Jerry Springer. The man. Himself. I adore how reasonable he is with the guests on his show and, IMHO, seems not to judge them, for the most part.

But, I do NOT understand the guests. I don’t think I’m judging them when I say that I can’t relate to them, am I? Ok, I admit that I have flashes of thoughts that tell me I’m “better” than they are, but my conscious brain yells at me whenever that happens. I really really really think that there’s just something different in the way “those people” (sorry that that could be an offensive phrase; just not sure what else to say) and I, or people I think of as like me, think and view the world.

Have I mentioned before how much I’m obsessed with the Myers-Briggs personality Type test? MBTI? Well, I am. And I’m sure that has something to do what what I’m talking about here.

I just don’t get it. Them.

OTOH, in a weird way, it makes me not feel so bad about being such a weirdo myself. lol. I *know* others, a lot of others, think I’m a bit odd. That they don’t “get” me. The thing is that I still watch Jerry. I want to TRY to “get” them. I hope that maybe some of “them” want to “get” me, too. And that’s a teensy tiny bit of why I write what I do online. It’s a bigger part that I want people who are already like me to see that there’s others out there like them. (Geesh, that’s a run-on sentence… hopefully makes sense anyway.) But that other part is good, too.

Now I’m on a roll… turning into a longer post than I’d intended.

There are some issues that I don’t really want to try to understand the other side to. To take an extreme example… evangelicals. I can logically admit that they *might* be right. But, I already know that I’m not interested in trying to be convinced. It’s almost like a physical reaction. I think the analogy of allergies is overused, but appropriate here. I have no problem with evangelicals believing what they do, but leave me out of it. (Yeah, yeah, that kind of goes against the actual definition of evangelicalism. So sue me.)

I also feel the same way, for the most part, but not as strongly, about Republicans. I am a Democrat. I could probably be swayed by an Independent party. I. Hate. George. W. Bush. Period.

I watched one episode of the tv show Brothers and Sisters. (I’m not a real big tv watcher.) It was an episode where Calista Flockhart’s character thought she was pregnant. She spent part of the day *trying* to tell her b/f, Rob Lowe’s character, that she was pregnant, but didn’t get the chance cuz he was so busy running for office. When he finally came home for the day, he was all pissed off because the people working for him had figured out that was what she was trying to tell him and why didn’t she tell him first. He was being a complete ass. So, I said, you know what I learned from this episode? Never fuck a Republican!!! (It’s funnier, I think, if you’d seen the episode, but I didn’t want to type out all the idiosyncrasies of the characters and the episode here.)

I just can’t have a relationship with someone who isn’t as excited about Obama as I am. Once upon a time I liked Clinton. That changed. Even when I liked them both, I liked Obama *better*, though. And don’t get me started on McCain. However. I hope no one who reads this blog is taking offense at this. If you support McCain, or even hate Obama, I’m all for you doing what you think is best. Actively campaigning or just voting. Even having an intense discussion with me! I *like* talking to people that have different views than I do (as long as it doesn’t devolve into name calling and such.) But to have a relationship? And to me, even an ongoing fuck and run is still a relationship. Can’t do it. Can’t say that it makes logical sense. But, it’s just the way it is. **sigh** There are more than a few guys I’ve met in my lifetime that had this going against them. For some of them, this was, really, the *only* thing going against them. And I can’t get over it. It’s like instant anti-viagra. (except for me being a chick and all.)

Wow. Who knew Jerry could inspire this much blabbling?

I do respect and admire that guy. And I’m not ashamed to admit it.

Mostly.

Ok, granted, he had an advantage in that he actually IS a model. I think.

I had a great date a while ago that I meant to blog about, but just didn’t get around to. Drop. Dead. Gorgeous.

Look, I *know* I’m obsessed, probably unhealthily, about looks. Eh, I already have the libido of a guy, I might as well be stereotypically looks oriented too!

This has nothing to do with this post: I got a 2nd degree burn on my lip. Damn Hot Pockets. It hurts and it’s really hard to keep from licking and biting it.

Annnnnnyway.

We met at a wine bar. He knows all this stuff about wine, which I totally admit impressed me.

It seems a bit weird to me that someone who likes modeling would move to Chicago where the main modeling opportunities are strictly catalogs… but he really does have a model’s looks.

Fast forward… seeing him just standing there naked getting dressed after a shower. Wow. Fucking wow. I think I would pay him to just walk around in front of me naked. lol. I even told him, well emailed him, that it’s almost too bad he’s straight because he would make a fabulous gay porn star! That’s how beautiful he is.

So. He’s pretty smart. And I’m ridiculously stingy with that particular compliment. The thing is, he’s smart about stuff that I’m not. Wine, music, poetry. Artistic stuff. While I’m impressed with that, I don’t really like feeling like an idiot in a way. I’m so un-knowledgeable about those kinds of things that I don’t even know what to ask.

Once again, I drank too much. I seem to always do that the *first* time I meet-up with someone. I should have that as a disclaimer in my profile. I actually was drunk enough that I can’t completely give a good description of the sex. (sorry, readers.) I only remember parts. I did come. And… wow, I’m actually embarrassed to say something on my blog… ok, I acted a bit kinky and he didn’t seem to mind. Of course, maybe he didn’t notice?

I really want to see him again. Unfortunately, he’s gotten a job that is a late-night gig and I have an early-morning job.

Hey, mister model, if you’re reading this? I actually like you. You are a very cool guy. I would have never ever met you “IRL” and actually, if I just read a description of you I might have figured we weren’t compatible. I have the feeling that I’m not what you were looking for, but I don’t feel bad about that. I really hope the best for you.

Silly romantic optimistic sex-obsessed girl that I am.

The last poll’s purpose was to give me some more procrastination time. And then I took even longer that that allowed for. I was never really planning on writing only or first about whatever topic got the highest votes — I was planning on writing about all of them — eventually.

Way back on the weekend of St. Pat’s, I went on a date with a guy from Adult FriendFinder. We met at a classy bar — a very nice locale for this sort of thing. He was very attractive, funny, intelligent. We had some great conversation, at least in my opinion. It was close to an idea first date. I liked him a lot and I knew that I’d like to spend more time with him. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t *repulsed* by me. So, what went wrong? Easy answer, I think. I got drunk. Wasted. Completely hammered.

It wasn’t intentional. Actually, I think the fact that I was having such a good time contributed to me not paying too much attention to my intake. Personally, I believe I’m somewhat more charming when slightly tipsy. But that wasn’t the case this time.

I only remember bits and pieces of the night between leaving the bar and leaving his place in the morning. Of course, not all of that memory loss is a result of too much booze (scotch in case you’re wondering.) Some is simply because it happened over a month ago. Yes, we did have sex. I don’t know how many times exactly. I’m pretty sure he came in my mouth, but I wouldn’t bet my life on it. I vaguely remember having anal sex, but I might be making that up.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t come. I’m noisy even when I don’t, though, so the gentleman I was with might think I did. That’s not a criticism of him, btw, just a descriptive fact.

Ok, to be honest, even though I’m not sharing details, the sex was just average. Not great. Not horrible. Just ok. So-so.

It’s important to me to acknowledge my part of the blame for the so-so-ness. (Or in anything that goes wrong for that matter.) But, having done that, yeah, he did some things wrongly, too. I’m not really comfortable publicly reporting them or denouncing him personally, though. I have no clue if he’s reading this and I think that would just be horribly rude.

I was really awkward the next morning when I left, too. Which I’m not usually. I just had no idea what he was thinking… was this intended to be a one-nighter or not? Usually I know. I was all discombobulated!! I think that maybe if I didn’t feel like I goofed things up by getting so drunk, I wouldn’t have trouble telling him what he did “wrong”. And so then if we *were* compatible, we could have discussed it and made everything all nice. At least in my fantasy world.

Oh well. The next night I had a date with another guy from Adult FriendFinder. And, uhm, yeah. WOW.

Maybe I’ll even blog about that soon.

Yeah, so I’m drunk. Noooo, I’m not out drinking with guys. I was drinking with my family. Well, my mom, my sister, my sister’s b/f, and my sister’s friend.

And I’m drunk texting some ex-boyfriends for fun.

And drunk-blogging.

I have a cold, too, which sucks.

I’m NOT looking for an exclusive LTR, but a boyfriend to take care of me when I have a cold and someone I could call when drunk would be nice.

That’s all.

Hmmm, funny, I just mentioned two things that kinda suck (having a cold and not having a b/f to take care of me), yet I’m pretty content and happy right now. Weird.

FYI - If you’re reading my blog post, I send you my mental love.

Ok… just so you know, I REALLY hardly ever drink. HOWEVER… librarian conferences are *really* known for heavy partying and drinking. Well, they are if you’re a librarian anyway.

So. Brief summary.

Coyote Ugly Bar. Yes, it/they actually exist, it’s not just a movie. Me. Drunk. Skanky outfit (if modified). Dancing on bar. Flirting with incredibly gorgeous 33 yr. old French Canadian.

Sex.

I didn’t even cum. But damn, he was good with his hands anyway. Wow.

BTW - not cumming had nothing to do with him. It just wasn’t happening. Not a big deal.

You know what? I really do enjoy this whole slut persona. Not giving a fuck. Just fucking. Even some people on AFF, a SEX dating site, have a not so great opinion of people like me. But, you know what? It’s fun. EVEN if I don’t cum. It’s STILL fun. I love it. I love getting a lot of sex and not giving a fuck what others think about that. And I love fucking guys who either really don’t care how many other guys I’ve fucked OR actually get TURNED ON by the fact that I’ve been fucked by so many other guys. The second being MUCH preferred over the first.

Ok…. like I said, I didn’t actually cum with this guy. So excuse me for not writing more while I go fuck *myself*. I really do love this whole being a slut thing…

So, I’m in Denver. For a librarian conference. No, really. We have conferences!

Anyway, I got in late last night and immediately headed to the hotel bar/lounge for food and drinks. Somehow I forgot to bring something to read! This is a huge deal. I *always* have something to read with me. I could have gone back up to my room to get a book, but there was only about 10 minutes left for the bar to take food orders… so, I took out the journal/notebook I carry in my purse and began to blog the old-fashioned way, with pen and paper.

Did you know that alcohol has a greater / faster effect on you in higher altitudes? True. This is my second drunk blogging post. Except that now, when I’m transcribing it, I’m sober. This is really not giving an accurate impression of me… *sigh*

Heregoes as written in my notebook (with spelling corrections):

I’m in Denver. For a librarian conference.

*Not written in my notebook: Hmmm… sounds familiar. Ok, Ok, I’ll stop making comments about what I wrote…*

Actually I’m writing — pen & paper — in the hotel lounge. I’d so love to take one of these guys back to my room! Well, one of about three guys.

Not being on the site all day long makes me even more behind in answering emails. Something like 28 new ones today. And I promised in my profile to answer all of them. THAT was stupid.

Oh! And O’Hare, on a weeknight at least, is FULL of men!!! And they all look familiar. LOL! So. Weird.

What would any of these guys do if I basically just asked them to accompany me back to my room? See, guys SAY hey, that would be awesome. But really, wouldn’t you be a bit freaked out? Even if it was a girl as luscious as me? LOL! J/k. I’m too scared to find out. I really can’t handle that kind of rejection well.

I’d be more likely to try if any of these guys were alone. But they’re all in groups of 3 or 4. One’s leaving. Damn. Anyway. 2 of the 3 are (were) in a group with one woman. Which makes me even less likely to flirt. Damn damn damn.

What would I say anyway?

Really I believe I would have approached this one guy who was here earlier alone. Would have asked him if he knew where to get dinner and if he wanted to join me. Easy. Not so easy when a guy’s with other people. Diamn is this how guys feel at bars all the time?

Is it so wrong somehow to be so picky about looks — particularly body type? Or to be picky about age?

Age — I think of myself as so much younger than I actually am. So guys not THAT much older than me seem a LOT older.

Ok. One of the guys has definitely (?) noticed me noticing him. Now what? Because my first reaction is that he’s thinking “yeah, right. Like YOU could have ME.” I don’t think I have low self-esteem. *I* think I’m great. I just don’t ever believe that anyone else does, too.

A guy I’m NOT interested in just tried to converse with me.

*I’m tired. The rest to be finished tomorrow.*