At least we know that my experiment is working in terms of a sexual re-awakening, eh?

I thought I'd delight your eyeballs, and other part, with this lovely page of erotic art. My absolutely favourite is the very first one, as well as the third one from the bottom. Also, does anyone else think that the second painting looks a lot like Kelly Osbourne?

Tash had gently reminded me that this place has been a little blah-blah-blah lately. It's time to sex it up again, eh?

Or not.

Do we remember The Contest? Well, Mr. Wonderful and I had a conversation last night in a similar vein. He doesn't think I could go long without engaging in onanism. Rather, he thinks he can go longer than moi. I asked him if he wanted to make things interesting, but he pussied out (*that's right, I said it*), by saying that he doesn't trust me enough to be honest about reporting back.

Well, then. If I can't be honest at the J-Spot, then what hope for the world is there?

And thus begins The Clitortest:



No, I don't have numbers on my vulva.. I think...

So, let's draw up some parameters, shall we?

1) The Clitortest will end December 31st, 2004.
2) The Clitortest does NOT included sexual intercourse.
3) The Clitortest DOES, however, include onanism practiced in the company of others, or while otherwise engaged in sexual activity/intercourse (i.e.: No touchie).
4) The Clitortest is dependent on the honour system (i.e.: you just have to trust me, baby).
5) If the Clitortest is completed successfully, someone should give me a prize (I'll have to work a bit on this one).

Why do it?

To prove to myself that, should my hands be mangled in a tragic accident, I could still live a sexually satisfying life... but mostly just to prove Mr. Wonderful wrong.

::Edit: I thought about it some more, and I think this will actually help me focus on my sexuality a bit more. I have, I admit, been in a bit of a schlump recently when it comes to, you know, loving myself. I think that if I stop feeding my genitals what it wants, it's going to start to get hungry, you know? And don't things always taste better when you're hungry?::

Tonight I'll be meeting with a journalist from the 'local' paper. She's going to be doing a piece on our recent conference, and our organization in general.

Eep.

Most of my other tangos with the press have always led me to question whether my childhood stuttering problem is making a re-appearance. I like to consider myself articulate, but not when it will be recorded for everyone to read.

Everyone. Even the Baptists.

Thank Buddha that I just happened to get Media "Training" at the conference I just attended. The golden was: Construct a key message and stick to it. Okay, I can do that. I just don't know what my message will be. Also, the journalist, I know, is on my side, so I think she'll make me sound good. Let's hope, anyway.

I really don't like getting political on my blog. I'm generally not very active when it comes to political issues. I especially don't like getting into American politics. However, I'd like to share something with you that made me proud to be Canadian.

Are any of you familiar with the Global Gag Rule? Essentially, the Bush government passed restrictions on overseas Family Planning Organizations. They can not do anything that could be considered pro-choice (ie: perform abortions, counsel about abortions, or lobby governments for access to abortion services). If they did not agree to these regulations, they could no longer get (unfortunately) vital funding (both money and contraceptives) from the US.

Sucky, eh?

Ironically, the intended goal of the rule was to limit women's access to abortions. You know what? The incidence of abortions has not gone down. In fact, it's predicted that the numbers will go up because, duh, they are no longer receiving shipments of contraception.

Anyway, this obviously affects the International Planned Parenthood Federation (IPPF). They are not immune. They are also in the situation of having to comply to the gag rule. The Planned Parenthood Federation of Canada actually resigned from the International Federation in protest (yay!). They have since returned, contingent on changes to the rule.

Where to start?

It's hard to think back to more than a week ago. I just had a big lunch, so most of my body's energy is being spent on digesting. So, because I can't articulate myself enough to form paragraphs, I bring you BULLETS!!

• A few minutes after arrive at MW's, I got a call that my grandfather died. Bummer, but he was old and kinda mean, so my heart isn't broken.
  
• Because of the funeral, my parents went to SJ, leaving me with a 30lb turkey to cook, alone. I was a bit nervous, because I was being evaluated, but it turned out well, if I did say so myself.
• The rest of the weekend was mostly quietly. I saw Shark Tale, which was surprisingly good, and The Notebook, which is the absolute saddest movie I have ever seen. I never cry at movies, but this one had me sobbing and weeping.
  
• I found my Halloween costume. If it turns out, I'll hopefully post picture.
  
• I really wasn't looking forward to the conference. I was feeling inferior, young, inexperienced, and was expected a bunch of stodgy old people who have been in the business for years and had lost their passion for their work. After arriving at the lodge, after about 15 minutes after we settled in, there were a dozen bottles of wine on the table, and things started to look up. I didn't even have to have a roomate, because I took over an empty room, and stay in a loft for the remainder of the trip. It was this one, if you must know, this one, too, though I obviously stayed in the nice big bed up top. I wasn't a big fan of the place in general, but it wasn't awful.
  
• Back to our first night. I had drank my fill, and decided to go to bed. The conversation at my table had to turn to work, and policy, and was being dominated by a particular blowhard I will henceforth call BH. On my way up the stairs, I looked out and saw some smokers outside sitting on picnic tables. I hadn't introduced myself yet, and I was feeling particularly friendly, so I went outside to say hello. Turns out, they shared my opinions on BH, and cheers to me with their wine. They were a little sloppy, as was I. A few minutes later, the conference organizer (CO) came out, sat down, chatted a bit, got up and left. Turns out he left a joint on the table seat (on purpose). The women I were with older (one was in her 30's, the other was probably in her 50s), and I wouldn't have expected when I met them that I was be smoking weed with them soon after. I got completely wack-ass, and tried again to make it to bed. I was brave enough to take a shower (and the shower curtain was a neon green, casting a weird glow on everything. It was trippy, man.)
• The basic summary of the conference is this: I kick ass. When issues were being discussed, I'd jump right in and state my opinion. I was annoyed, actually, because all my other east-coast counterparts were very quiet about things that definitely affected them. BH dominated many of the debates, which I felt was potentially dangerous at the time because 1) he was one of 2 men, in a room full of women, who seemed too eager to hang over the power and 2) he is the largest, richest, most succesful of us (rather, his organization is). I, being the smallest, poorest, and probably least successful, I stood up to him several times. He was proposing several fundamental changes in the organization in the spirit of "fairness", but I reminded him that what he was proposing was fair to him, but no one else. Anyway, it's complicated, but I'm just proud of myself for standing up to big, burly businessman. I wonder if it hasn't any connection to my fantasy for wanting to fuck one?
• I had a great conversation with the CO. He thought I was great. I came thinking he was probably a bit of a dick, because he was unreliable. Now I know that he's a good guy, and he probably just has memory problems because of the pot. ;) He gave me his (and the organizations) support of I want to start something here. I was also very forthright about saying I don't believe I should be where I am. We had some very good and interesting conversations.
  
• One of the other nearby organizations said she would let me know if any jobs came up. Can't hurt.
  
• My second night was spent in Wakefield with my old roomates from university. We had supper at the Black Sheep, then went to the townie bar down the street. I met their respective boyfriends (one, a Irish/Aussie mix, the other a Quebecois who reminded me of MW in build and accent). We got mightly liquored (the owner fed us tequila) and I had a great time. Once they found out what I did for a living, I was suddently quite popular. Again, great time, and I hope they come down for a visit soon.
  
• The 3rd night was spent in Ottawa with my sister. We exhanged gifts, and had supper near the market. We had great conversations. More alcohol. Sigh. I hopped on a bus back to the lodge. Still more alcohol.
  
• We left the lodge the next afternoon. I stayed with my sister and her roomate, Robert. I love Robert. He's a bit of a party-pooper, but I'm glad my sis has him as a friend. We went for Indian food, that I'm pretty sure I'm still digesting. It was, as the Indian say... uhm... good. I met more of her friends, who were also really nice. It's weird, when you don't see your sister that often, to be compared, both aesthetically, and otherwsie, to her by all her friends. Sort of.. uncomfortable. Still, fun guys.
• The next morning, our last day in Ottawa, I had hit a wall. I was tired, and didn't feel like thinking anymore. I got a cab from my sister's place to the meeting site. I was about a half hour late, but it turned out that only a few people had arrive before me. As we waited for more people, it turned out that most people blew that whole morning off. Ah well. There was the AGM later on, which was great because the changes that the BH was proposing had been voted down. Woo. Democrazy works!!
• I travelled back home, though not because a quick stop connection in Toronto, which makes no sense. I got in around 11pm, and went to MW's place, eager for a peaceful, deep sleep. Instead, his icky, hairy, diseased roomate was violently ill all night. Every 20 minutes, we would hear "UUUUGGH..HAAAAAAAAACK.... UH-UH-WLAAAPFFF". It makes me nauseous just thinking about it.
  
• It was great coming home to MW, though. I was exhausted and stinky and probably very unpretty, yet he was still happy to see me. He listened to me blab on about my trip, and how excited I was about things. It felt so good to be with him, I can't really describe it.
  
• Though, he could have been happy to see me because I got him a little gift.
  

That's pretty much it, in a nutshell. I have tons of laundry to do, and lots of stuff to catch up on. I'm still tired, but I'm sure I'll be good to go again by the weekend. Glad to be back, and blogging.

I'm very, very sad.

Remember a few months ago when I mentioned a mysterious something that I was undertaking? Well, it may come to fruition this morning, but that still remains to be seen.

I'm feeling sort of nervous. I woke up this morning before my alarm went of, and Sexy woke me up further with her meowing and purring. She usually waits until she hears my alarm, where she'll run in through the window leading to my porch, and jump on me, all excited and happy. Maybe she was feeling anxious, too.

I can't say too much more, I guess. My next post will probably be in a couple of hours. I'll either be really, really pissed off, or really, really happy.

Oh, one more thing, that I keep forgetting to mention. Do you know the guy with the artificial leg on Survivor? Apparently, his in-laws live in SH! We're ripe with celebrity, I tell ya!! :D

Aha! I'm not crazy!!!

From : Sent : October 7, 2004 7:08:10 PM To : xxxxxx@hotmail.com Subject : Re: Is this you in the picture with "The Donald"?

Jennifer -

I'm wearing a short black skirt, black tights, and Mary Jane's today. I feel so... cute.

I feel so frustrated today. The dude who is organizing this conference in Ottawa has (repeatedly!) screwed up my email address, so I'm totally out of loop. And he's out of the office until tomorrow. I hate note knowing things, especially when it involves travelling. Ah well. Worse case scenario is that I spend the week with my sister. Hm. That's not a bad idea, come to think of it. The whole conference is sponsored by a big drug company, so that could be my way of stickin' it to the man.

Also, mark your calendars! Today, Jenn was shocked. I received some posters and stuff from this campaign today. I pulled it out of the mailing tube, looked at it, and laughed. Don't get me wrong. I think this is actually a good campaign, and the message is great, but this campaign, to my understanding, originated in Vancouver, which makes sense, for there. It would be a cold day in hell that I could ever put up this material here, though. I'd be burned at the stake, literally.

I cleaned my office today. Well. Not clean, really, but I rearranged certain things so that I can remove some of the boxes that was cluttering up my space. I've got a teeny-tiny office, so any floorspace I can regain is a plus.

I also put up a giant PP banner in my office, on part of the ceiling that slopes downwards. It looks pretty snazzy, if I do say so. I also found my 3 wooden penises that I thought I lost at the conference. Fewf.

I want something good for supper tonight, but I haven't the foggiest about what that could be. Hmm.. maybe a spinash and ham omelette? Yes, that sounds good.

See what happens when I don't talk about sex in my posts? They're quite boring, aren't they?

In no particular order.....


1) Meet Sue Johanson and/or Betty Dodson.
2) See David Cooperfield live.
3) Open a PP affiliate, or my own sex store (a la Venus Envy or Good Vibrations).
4) Take a cross-country trip via train (not necessarily Canada).
5) Stay in a hotel room with a hot tub in it.
6) Learn sign language.
7) Earn another degree.
8) Learn how to wiggle my nose - I had a friend fron university who could do it, like a bunny, and it was gosh darn cute.
9) Have my own house.
10) Learn flower arranging.
11) Wear false eyelashes.
12) Learn one (or more) of the following dance styles: Samba, Belly, and Habanera.
13) Write a book.
14) Get tied up.
15) Earn over 30k/year.
16) Accomplish all the positions in the New Joy of Sex.
17) Give birth.
18) Pay off my student loans (see #15).
19) Have a G-spot orgasm, if possible (a.k.a. "squirt")
20) Learn to roll my 'r's.

Mr. Wonderful and I were watching CBC's two-part presentation of Lord of the Rings.

Me: "You know, they should make a "Lord of the Cock Ring".

MW: "Yeah, I'll be the star."

Well, it looks like that role has already be, ahem, filled.


(Also, is it just me, or does the guy in the bottom left corner look like Vanilla Ice?)

I wonder how long it'll take before that gets old?

I got invited to a high school in a few weeks. It's not in our service area, but they want me really bad. That's nice. They have 3 pregnant girls there. Woops. We got to talking and she (the nurse who was inviting me) told me one of the girls came to her looking for food. She's been living off of chips and granola bars the nurse carries in her office, out of her own pocket. The young girl's family is dirt poor, and she can't afford to get proper food. Christ. Scary, huh?

I'm starting to wonder about teenage pregnancies. I'm starting to wonder if there isn't at least a small percentage of TP's that aren't... well.. intentional? Maybe not intentional, but at least...apathetical? Meaning that the girls know the risks, they know how to protect themselves, but they just don't care.

If you ever read the message board at Scarleteen, which I do on a daily basis, you'll find dozens of young girls, like this one, who have unprotected sex. I refuse to believe that, at this point, they haven't at least heard of condoms, or The Pill.

Could it be that motivation for protecting themselves if not as attractive as the romantic notion of pregnancy? Or, maybe it's not a 'romantic' notion, but maybe it's the drama of a pregnancy scare? Do they watch too many soap operas?

And don't even get me started on all the STI statistics....

I don't know. Am I way off on this? I just can't seem to understand why it is still happening, despite a plethora of options, for both men and women, and I refuse to accept ignorance as an excuse.

Is safe sex unsexy?

First off, go over to The City Life, to read a hilarious tale featuring a crazy woman, and her vagina.

And no, it's not about me.

For the rest of this post, I think I'll jump around a bit. There were a few stories/observations I meant to talk about earlier, but kept forgetting about. Most of the stories do have something in common. My mom. We're pretty close, and talk on a regular basis. I love her, although there is no one on this planet that can drive me mad and upset me like she can. Anyway, this isn't about that. In the last little while, it seems I've been discovering things that I never knew - about her, about me, about everything.

My mother comes from a large family. Her youngest brother lived with us when we were growing up for a short period of time, then got married, adopted his step-daughter, and moved to various apartments always a short walk from our house. His wife and my mother often worked together, and I would often see them sitting at the kitchen table, smoking DuMaurier Extra Light King Size cigarettes, and drinking instant coffee, after I got home from school. His wife was, to me, the epitome of a soap opera heroine. She had jet black hair, long, pointy red fingernails, a skinny build, and a very expressive demeanor. She was dramatic, and wore lots of jewelry. She'd tap-tap-tap those fingernails when she'd talk to underscore a point she was making. She was very different from my mom.

She had a daughter. She was a few years older than me, and I thought she was 'cool'. She could be a bitch sometimes, but often times she'd be stuck having to play with me when the adults were busy smoking their cigarettes and drinking their instant coffee. I remember our 'play sessions' vividly. As I got older, I realized that what we were doing was probably not appropriate for a 8 year old and a 12 year old. I've put it out of my mind, though, and it's not an issue for me anymore.

Anyway, that isn't really what this post is about. About two weeks ago, my mother and I were talking about her family, and the subject of her youngest brother came up. I don't remember why I said this, but I said something to the effect of... "he was really fun, and you could tell he really loved kids, but he was a little.... a little too affectionate". He was. Growing up, he was one of my favorite uncles, because he would play with us, and give us lots of attention. However, now and again, his playing would just get too physical and, well, annoying. Having said this to my mother, I expected her to be surprised, or to even defend him (despite the fact that they had a falling out soon after my grandmother passed away). To my surprise though, she said "yes, I know, we sometimes had to watch him with you girls". I was shocked to hear that after all these years, that sort of dynamic existed between the two families, yet I was oblivious to it.

Now that I know this, I must say I now wonder if there was any connection between his actions, and his stepdaughter's. Hm.

Woah. That was a bit more heavy than I intended. I was going to write more, but I must say that took a bit out of me to write, and what I wanted to write about isn't much of a pick-me-up, either. I promise to post more later on today, though. If you want to cheer yourself up in the meantime, I recommend taking another gander at the boys down below.