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Saturday, July 01, 2006 

Sluts, Slags, and all things Nasty

I’ve turned frigid. At least, for the time being. I realised this last night, sitting in a random’s lap, and with his tongue half way down my throat. It was alright, it was actually nice, but only in the same way that cookies and sunny days are nice. There was no accompanying feeling of, well anything. Now, I’m not a slag, I promise, but usually I at least care that someone has their hands wandering all over me. To be honest, I might as well have been sitting having a cup of tea with him for how much I was turned on.

I’m really quite confused. I actually had a guy avoiding me because he though I’d mess him around. Again. Since when have I turned into an icy bitch with no libido? I spoke to Dave about it and he just didn’t understand it at all. I’m not easy, but I’ve really never been frigid.

I’m perplexed. I’ve spent the week promising people things slutty, slagish, and generally all things nasty, and then, as soon as I get into an atmosphere where I can be those things, I just really don’t care. I was reasonably provocative I guess, I don’t think I know how to dance like a “nice girl,” never mind keep my mouth shut when there is the possibility of an innuendo. But I just really could not be bothered with any of it. The only reason anything happened at all was because I was bored and had already tried to fall asleep on a sofa in the back bar. It didn’t work, so I had to find something else to occupy myself. In the end I gave up on the useless Casanova and went to talk to someone about the size of my ex’s cock (not my choice in conversation, but I felt like I should set him straight when Dinky was telling some random person about how small he’d been).

I’m tired. I’m tired, frustrated, and annoyed at myself. I don’t understand me, and I don’t understand this sudden turn towards sainthood. Not that I’ll ever be even close to a saint, but it looks like I’m turning celibate. I’m miserable anyway because I’m packing my life up into a suitcase. Packing is a giant contradiction in my opinion. On the one hand it represents unlimited possibilities and embracing the new, and on the other it means an end to one way of life, the death of something. I hate packing because I hate trying to work out which side I veer towards. Do I embrace the new, or mourn the death of the old? Can I do both while still retaining a reasonable number of brain cells?

I give up. I’ve got things to pack still, passports to check on, and shoes to deliberate over taking. I need to remember to take my toothbrush, and stop thinking everything through because when I do I just end up annoyed at myself. I don’t like the fact that last night I spent the whole time basically unfeeling and ice-queenish, but it’s past and hopefully tomorrow, or sometime soon, this complete disinterest will pass. Unless I’ve really been ruined for good this time.

Don’t wanna think about it anymore. Whenever I next post, possibly not for a while, I’ll be on the other side of the ocean, and a lot less hungover. Until then, auf wiedersehen.

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Maybe you are just growing up?
Life is full of changes, different ages when we turn one way or the other, and it's happening all the time.
I had a big change a couple of years ago, just after I turned 40. They say that when you're 40 you're on the top of the world, feel better with yourself then ever...jada jada...and in a way it's true. But it's also a time when you realize that you're half way through life and you begin to reflect on what you've done and not done so far.

I think you'll be just fine. Just let it be and it'll sort itself out. And from I've seen here in your blog, your experience with men is not the best, which will eventually turn you around after some time. You will care when the time is right.

And have a safe trip :hugs:

I agree with Christa; you might be growing out of it, finding other things that are more important. Or it could be a phase. It sounds like your provocativeness is now to the point of habit, but libido isn't something that's controlled by habit. And it sounds like you have plenty of distractions, which could help explain it, too.

Maybe you're subconsciously saving yourself for all the fit young German chaps you'll be meeting shortly?

Giddy up, ja?

Ok I hope you're ignoring the above comments - it's nothing to do with growing up. And even if it is, no one likes to be patronised so pretend it isn't. I've only read a few of your entries but you seem to be part of the same generation as me, the heartless, soulless, teenage fuck-ups; whatever you do to try and feel, feel anything, through drinking, drugging, fucking, cutting, all you get is this detached numbness, like nothing really matters.

Somebody just read his first Brett Easton Ellis novel?

I'm no expert, and there have been unfortunate misunderstandings in the past, but I believe she just offered you a shag, Oscar.

Rang-a-dang-doo!

Hehe thanks, Colonel Knowledge, and your first comment is in fact roughly right. More like "Someone's just written his first Bret Easton Ellis novel" though. It drifts away from the whole 80s, 'Rules of Attraction' type-thing and staggers towards a new kind of nothingness. A tacky tagline would be 'A requiem for all that never was'. I'd love to tell you more but sadly can't. Hopefully before long you'll be struggling to put it down.

well not sure what dr.john (who sent me your way) would think but I get what your saying. Yes, I know I now qualify as an old fart, but I remember my teen years and your angst isn't anything new. You'll get through it. Have a good trip.

Maybe your not Frigid~
could Be ya just want 2 B a prick tease for a while! That could actually be more fun! Ya know-
I'm 2 sexy~
and U can't touch this!
I luv 2 move to somewhere new!
I hate the actual MOVE-but luv the new surroundings, and the fact that U start a new!!!
Good luck with everything!
:]

See-
I'm running at the mouth and 4 got 2 say----
DR. JOHN SENT ME.....
:o

Hmmmmm...interesting post. I think you need a good talking to by someone who knows you better than you do. I am forty and not sure what the heck is going on or what I want to be when I grow up.

I was sent by Dr. John, a guy who randomly picks blogs for his readers to visit. (You can get to him from any. of the peple who leave comments in case he does not leave a comment on yours).

I hope you warm up soon...

I don't have an answer but maybe it is the drinking. When I drink I get blue and feel so sad.

Sounds like you're sensing there's something missing in between how you think you're supposed to feel and what you really feel. Your feelings are all your own, don't waste time chasing after someone else's happiness...yours is out there somewhere it just takes time to find sometimes. Maybe you'll find it on the other side of the ocean.

Dr. John sent me.

I doubt you're frigid. Perhaps you are just coming to realize that sex and love are two very different things, and one has much less value without the other.

Good luck on your trip. Have fun, enjoy being you and don't worry too much about who others want you to be.

Oh, yeah -- Dr. John sent me.

You aren't frigid.. sometimes.. your body is just not in the mood..

Nice blog.. interesting entries..

Dr. John sent me here!

I think you will be fine....dont spend to much time thinking about it....just go and live and enjoy life....forget about it for awhile. Just have fun! Dr John sent me.

I felt so much the same way after my divorce a few years back. I married at 18 and stuck it out for 12 long years. Finally free I entered the dating scene - searching for something, but I didn't know what.

Funny thing, guy after guy after guy, and after many "what if's" later - I found myself. Each taught me a little bit about myself in their own indirect way. I learned what I wanted and what I did not want out of life.

When Mr. Right finally did enter my life I knew right away. I also had the self-confidence, assurance, goals set before me as an individual. A strong partner looking for another who seeks to go forward in life - in the SAME direction.

It all comes together. I promise.

-Margie
(another visitor from the Dr. John Mothership.)

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  • An albatross can fly for thousands of miles without getting tired. I've always thought that love is similar to flying, therefore we should aspire to be like the albatross.

    I don't know if I can do that. So far I haven't been so lucky. But one day I'll test my wings with someone, and flying won't be so hard after all. Or so painful.
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