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Saturday, September 16, 2006 

Searching for Stars

Apparently men with really big penises can never get fully hard. This is due to the fact that they are so big and heavy that they don’t have enough blood spare to maintain a full erection. I’m not going to get pornographic with you; I just felt that this information seemed interesting because it explained a few things.

Unfortunately, finding out this particular piece of valuable information has been about as close to sex as I have come lately. Or not come as the case may be. Being single full time is occasionally rewarding, and generally better for me than the boring coupled-up counterpart version of me, but it is a slight strain.

Looking for love is about as rewarding as looking for your keys when you’re late leaving the house. There’s just no way you’ll find them and still be on time; you might as well just give up. Looking for sex in a drought is similar. When you swear yourself off it you find yourself a magnet for attractive, nice men. When you need it all you can find are complete shits and stalker-freaks.

My love life is boring. I’ve got a Best Friend [of the ex] thing which, whether I like it or not, I can’t touch, and a charming, attractive bartender with a girl friend and far too much emotional baggage. Oh yeah, and in the spirit of repeating mistakes over and over and over, the ex (who from this point forward shall be known as The Numpty) wants to know if I’ll be back home [and able to have sex with him] at Christmas.

Casual sex, even with an ex, is fine, brilliant even, it’s just that when you’re planning to meet up in three months time and shift plans and everything, it starts to become less casual and more planned. Planned is less good. Planned means that you’re thinking ahead, you’re committing to a date, time, and practice. Commitment, to anyone, and especially the Numpty, is not good.

I’m in limbo. As soon as I go to uni I’m going to be over-run with people and wishing I was back here stuck in limbo again because it was easier. But I don’t leave until next Sunday so I guess I’ll confront that when I get to it. Right now I want to complain.

But, as irritated with limbo as I am, I’m also slightly relieved. I can listen to Counting Crows- Accidentally in Love again. I haven’t been able to listen to it since April because when you realise how much you’ve lost, that song just sounds so smug and well, irritating. That, my darlings, is major progress. Music is the biggest outlet for my emotions. There is absolutely no doubt about it, you can tell what mood and state of mind I’m in simply by which playlist I’m listening to on my mp3 player.

Single life is boring. It’s incredibly interesting, embarrassing, and eventful at the same time, but eighty percent of the time it’s boring. You don’t have consistent sex, someone to phone when you’re bored, or someone to cuddle up to and comfort you when you feel down. If it isn’t by choice then it’s the most miserable state of being that it is possible for you to be in. But once you choose it, once you realise that real love and happiness is impossible to find properly when you’re stuck in a bad relationship, you start to appreciate the boredom.

It’s like stars in a night sky. Most of the sky is black, empty, dark and dull. It’s depressing, soulless. But without the black you don’t notice the stars. The emptiness emphasises the fact that there are stars. You need the blackness to find them. It helps your search.

I loved the Numpty, and right now I simply can’t abide the celibacy. But I understand the need and I accept it as my due. Being with someone is comfortable. It’s easy, and it’s rewarding. But it’s lazy. I need to find the stars, and I need to be bored and frustrated otherwise I won’t look; I’ll sit at home with the boyfriend who isn’t really, but is just enough to fill the need. I need to be single because that way I might learn how to search.

* * * * *

Kudos goes to blogger for working out how to put labels onto posts. After opening a wordpress account months ago, the lack of labels has been the only drawback to blogger weblogs. Now, due to the new beta version, I am an extremely happy bunny.

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Is the comment thing working yet? It wasn't before.

I think somebody has been spinning you a line vis a vis erectile dysfunction, by the way.

"I can't get it up 'cos it's so big"

Chinny reck-on! That's why adult films are full of blokes that are hung like baby carrots, is it?

I just wanted to say that i enjoy your style of expression.


The comments weren't working?? Oh. I just thought I was unloved.

Vis a vis erectile dysfunction- it was a woman that said it. I just thought it was interesting.

And dianne, thank you!


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About me

  • 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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    * In 2001 one New Zealand fishing boat killed over 300 seabirds in just one trip, while fishing for ling.
    * Each year over 300,000 seabirds are killed by longline fishing.
    * Over the past 60 years some albatross populations have declined by 90%.
    * Annually around 10,000 albatross and petrels are caught in New Zealand waters alone.
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