Alternate Title: Jenn Rediscovers her Clitoris.

I've spent the last week or so on edge. It could be the moving, or the over-dependence on caffeine, or the monster-induced nightly insomnia I've been experiencing. I've also been missing MW somethin' awful. I've been missing arms around me and warm breaths on my neck.

Oh, and penises. I've been missing penises TONS (hence the last few pictures...)

Last night, I remembered that I have friends. Good friends. GREAT friends. Friends that are always there for me whenever I need them. Friends who never let me down, and always put a smile on my face. Friends who come in all shapes, sizes, and colours.

These particular friends live in a plastic dresser beside my bed. There is Mr. Squishy, Ebony, Fin-Fin, Flipper, The Pink Lady, and Number One (these aren't actual names, I just made them up.. to, uhm, protect the innocent).

I'll skip the details, but yadda, yadda, yadda, I was feeling much better this morning.

The Sex? Book here is still causing some controversy. It's been distributed to most schools in the province now. A recent article in a provincial paper spoke to the fact that now that it's been distributed, there has been little opposition to it. And really, there hasn't. The media hyped it up so much, everyone was expected a mix of Hustler's pictorials, and the "Dear Penthouse" forum. I suspect the students were very disappointed.

Yesterday, I got a fax of a letter to the editor of this paper. I'd like to share with you parts of the letter.

"Planned Parenthood, with the province's money(in fact, the book was created by the Department of Health Promotion and Education. PP had one representative on the board), is using this manual to teach our children that anal intercourse is just anouther sexual choice (ed: It is.), that condoms are safe (ed: they are.. at the very least they are safeR than nothing ) and that being transgendered is natural (ed: What's YOUR definition of "natural"?). Why, as a Catholic (ed: Surprise!), must I endure the state's indoctrination of my children in homosexual and feminist propaganga? You won't notice any reference to or acknowledgement of Catholic teaching on chastity in the manual. (ed: Actually, you do. Pages 21-29 of the manual talk about sexual readiness, abstinence, and activities that have nothing to do with intercourse).

"(...The author) is right about one thing: the manual is "funky". It's a masterpiece of clever marketing. What's it selling? Planned Parenthood, for one. Along with a dozen or so methods of contraception, a multibillion dollar industry. (ed: Oh, come ON. Has she unconvered a secret alliance between PP and the drug industry? Honey, if that were true, I wouldn't have to leave this job because I can't afford to buy groceries anymore...)

She then goes on to talk about condom statistics that appear in the book:

"Condoms, for example, are 89 (she misquoted, it's actually 86) percent effective, even if they aren't used. There are no words to describe how utterly absurd this is. A condom is 89 percent effective even if it isn't used?" (ed: *sigh* No, actually, that statistic is a 'realistic' effectiveness rate, meaning that most people do not always use a condom perfectly, or all the time)

Oh, this is my favorite part:

"...but such examples show the real agenda behind the manual - to dupe children into buying these ineffective contraptions and when they fail, sell them an abortion - another multibillion-dollar industry. Seeing a pattern here?" (ed: Yes, I do. You're a paranoid nutbar. First of all, if you think condoms, hormonal birth control, and Depo are ineffective against unwanted pregnancy and STI prevention, I challenge you to walk into any high school and deny access to these things, and THEN see what happens. Moreover, how do you sell abortions when they are FREE? I take great offence to being compared to a sinister encyclopedia salesman.)

And the hits just keep coming...

"... You will notice that the word "disease" isn't even used. Instead, the more benign term, "infection" is used. Wouldn't want our children to understand syphillis as being a nasty disease, would we? It's just an infection." (ed: actually, the reason STD changed to STI is that the word 'infection' encompasses a broader range of...well, infections. Infections can LEAD to diseases, but not all infections will. I don't know about you, but 'infection' actually sounds grosser to me than 'disease'.)

"A public health nurse, disgruntled with our School Board's wise decision not to distribute the manual (ed: They the were the only school in the province to do so. Also, I've had several phone calls from PARENTS from this school board who have ASKED for the book from me) decided to take it upon herself to distribute it. She simply stepped outside the school and handed out armfuls of it to children on the playground. No brown paper packages (ed: why?), no parental consent forms. These sex activists are more like sex addicts. They will stop at nothing to teach your children their world view (ed: I'm going to throw that PH Nurse a frickin' PARADE, man. I don't know who she is, but she totally rocks my world, like, hardcore. Also, I would wear either badge - activist or addict - with pride. In fact, I may make a t-shirt.).

Written by:
XXXX XXXX
A Catholic 'Civil Rights' organization

Seeing as how it is a month until Christmas, here are a few ideas. This is by no means an exhaustive list. I've just been strolling through the hallowed halls of the Internet, looking for neat things. Also, these aren't in order.

Glass Dildoes: Both beautiful, and stimulating.

Electric Shaver

Floor Lamp

I'm still asking for this. Please.

Ooh, this is a much nicer lamp.

This would be nice. I could pawn it and pay off my student loan when I get bored of it!

I need a new back pack.

I've decided to extend my stay to the 18th of December now. There were a few reasons, most of them centered around financial reasons, a few were touched on my sadness of leaving. In the end though, it made sense to stay a few weeks longer, and everyone seems happier about it. As a bonus, I can now attend the Christmas party. Any ideas on a generic, under $10 gift I can buy?

Because I am staying, I'll be getting another paycheck and a half (though, most of that extra paycheck will go December's rent and utilities). More importantly, though, I will be able to claim employment insurance. This is a massive relief.

So, now I can start thinking about the future.

It's funny. Lately, it seems like I've been falling in love with MW all over again - not that ever fell out of love, mind you. Far from it. Maybe it's the excitement of knowing that we will be together soon(ish), that we will both find jobs, and live in the same city, and pick up where we left off. Maybe it's that by next week, we'll have been dating for a year. I don't know the reason, and I don't care, frankly. It just feels good.

...and Christmas is coming up. For those of you who haven't put it together yet, don't expect anything too fabulous from me this year. I'll do what I can, and you will just have to forgive me. Unlike some people, I completely endorse the notion that Christmas is about gifts. Giving, and receiving. I do actually attend mass every Christmas, so I do buy in, somewhat, to the spiritual aspect of the holidays, but mostly, it's about the bling. All this to say: Just a forewarning from me. If you would like anything on a smaller scale, please pass it along!

Sorry to jump all over, but I just had to mention: Ironically enough, there has been 3 pregnant young girls uncovered of the past week at the local high school. That's TEN PERCENT of the graduating class here. The girls are 12, 15, and 16. One of them is actually one of the 2 doctor's daughters (can someone correct my grammar on that?). Two of these cases are (technically) statutory rape (one boy was 17, one is 22). Once again, I was one of the last people to hear about them. I don't take it personally, but, again, I'm duplicate a lot of services here, so I'm usually the last resort for high school girls. Hearing this, part of me just wants to throw up my hands and shake my head. Actually, most of me does.

Behold, the face of evil.

There is SOMETHING LIVING IN MY WALLS. So gross. So, so gross. I've been up since 4am. From about 4am to 5:30am, I was sitting in my bed, holding a broom like a semi-automatic rifle, hoping against hope that whatever is in there would poke its head out. So I could bash it in.

Sexy has been sleeping a lot during the day, and she's been spending a lot of time in my bedroom. Usually, she'll come out and play with me, or lay next to me while I'm watching TV on my futon. She hasn't been doing that the last few days. Now I know why. Last night, I kept hearing scratching, and scurrying, and chewing. I turned on the light, and Sexy was attentively sitting near one of my bedroom walls. She heard it too. I think she's been hearing more than I have. It would scurry up the wall, down the wall, across the wall, and then, after I banged the wall a few times with my broom, it began scurrying underneath the floor. UNDERNEATH MY BED. I still couldn't see it, though. Neither could Sexy. Sometime time at around 5:30am, after trying a few times to get back to sleep (unsuccessfully), I made one final bang against the wall, then I heard it (I think) crawl out my wall, heading for outside.

So, after talking with coworkers, there are the following theories:

A mouse
A FAMILY of mice
A Squirrel
A monster (that's my personal theory)

Since these are all nocturnal creatures, chances are I'm in for another sleepless night. I'm faced with a few options. I could call my landlord and ask him to set traps, but I'm really hesitant to do that because I'm afraid they might hurt Sexy. I could wait to see if Sexy catching it/them, but that could take a while. Being out in the boonies, I know there aren't many (if any) humane traps available, so I'm sure the landlord will probably set the snap traps. The last thing I want (besides coming home to living mice/squirrels/monsters) is coming home to dead mice/squirrels/monsters. Any suggestions? My tendency is to wait and see, but I'm already hurting from the shitty sleep I got last night.

In other, somewhat related news, I've decided to stay later than originally expected, mostly for financial reasons. Looks like I'll be staying till probably the 18th. This means another few extra weeks with the monster.

In other, not-at-all related news, looks like it was a busy weekend in SH. I haven't had one phone call in weeks, about anything (except the delightful calls from MW), however today I got 3 phonecalls asking about Emergency Contraception, and abortion. Geewhilickers.

I'll be out for a few days. Tomorrow I'll be telling teenagers about condoms and smegma (!), and for the rest of the weekend I'll be entertaining the lovely Caitlin from Toronto. By entertaining, I mean "making her help me pack".

I vascilate back and forth about my decision to leave. When I look at the big picture, I know I've made the right decision. It's the minutiae of leaving that is getting me down, the more practical things. In the end, though, I know why I'm leaving, and I know I'm onto better things. Much, much better things. This upcomming shittiness of going home will soon pass, and then I can fulfill my destiny!

Have a great weekend, everyone. Please pray that my cable has returned. It's been 4 days without Fox now and my IQ is starting to rise again. This can't happen. I miss my Judge Judy.

I think my boss it going to be a wanker, and block my efforts to claim employment insurance after I clear. Merciful fuck.

Anyway, the good folks at Shoppers Drug Mart sent me another of their emails telling me I could get 20x the points this week if I buy, something.. I don't know.. fragrance or something. The email said that I am only 2000 points away from reaching the highest level, which means I could get $75 in free merchandise. The last time this happened was just before I left for SH, where I bought lots of toiletries, which I'm still using. I thought maybe this time, I'd put the money towards Xmas presents which, as I just mentioned, will be downsized greatly this year.

So, if anyone wants to give me some of their points, I'll take em!

This was my fucking weekend.

.... and because I am on a well, I didn't have water, either. No shower, no toilet, no washing of any kind. Yikes.

Thankfully, the power came back on this morning at about 5am. I went to bed last night in jogging pants, a wool sweater, and a wool hat on my head. I could see my breath. I had candles on all over the house. Because of the time change, it was dark at 5:30pm.

All in all, though, things could have been worse. I spent most of the day going to and from the city, in a nice, warm, heated car. We even stopped for supper, which was so nice, because I had no means of cooking anything at home.

MW came down on Friday. I met him at the bus station, and we made our way downtown. We stopped for a bite, then wandered around. We walked over to the casino, where MW lost $20 on red in roulette. We then went to the Discovery Center, which would be loads of fun if you were four. It would probably be very educational, too, if you took the time to read the information in the exhibits. There were some highlights, and it helped us fill the afternoon, but it was intended more for, say, preschoolers.

We caught the bus back to SH. We nearly died several times from being bounced around all over the place, but we made it. We got home, and I put in a pizza for us for supper. My culinary skills reared it's ugly head, again, when I forgot to take the cardboard backing off the pizza. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Saturday morning was... fun.

Saturday after was spent watching Family Guy episodes, and napping on my futon. It had started snowing outside, and it was one of those cozy, Christmas-y type afternoons.

I made supper, and despite the fact that my chicken was slightly undercooked, all was well.

I started getting stir crazy, so we decided to walk into the Harbour to see if we could rent us some movies (note to self: return movies). Everything was closed, of course, because SH SUCKS. We had to walk to the other end of town to finally find someone who was open past 7 fucking o'clock. We rented Farhenheit 9/11 and Jackass: The Movie. I love us.

I wake up the next morning, and notice the power is out. No heat, no toilet. MW gets up to make breakfast, but alas, no power. We had a while before having to catch the ride into the city, so we crawled back under my down duvet and watched more of the Family Guy DVDs. I could have though of better things to do, more heat-conducing things, but our time was short.

The poor guy got home late last night. Sexy missed her new-found friend. She seemed quiet last night, but that could be because she was a partial kitten-sicle. I spent my evening under the covers and writting in my journal. I realized that all of this moving, of of this everything, is really getting to me - more than I realize. I don't know anything about anything anymore, and I've been trying to blame people for the fact that everything is the way it is right now. I have to keep remember, though, that no one is to blame, it's just the way things are. And things will work out. They always do.

Right?

Well, almost.

I couldn't sleep last night. I got up early this morning. My mind doesn't want to shut off, it seems. I can't seem to stop thinking about moving, packing, finding a job, finding a new place to live, the future, the future, the future.

And, the present.

Tomorrow MW comes to visit. I don't know why, but I'm so excited that I could pee myself.

Today, I'm spending my statutory holiday doing some work, and making myself some CDs. No one else is in the office, and I have the heat up to 30.

And now, after 2 cups of coffee, it seems I can't focus enough to finish my post.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

But first, I will show you a site. Click on the thumbnails below. I believe you will be pleasantly surprised.

So, back to your regularly scheduled self-disclosure.

I suppose I shall start at the beginning.

Let's call this girl... Jane. I had known Jane for a few years, off and on. One day, after my first year of university, I got a phone call from her, saying that I hadn't heard from her in such a long time because she decided that she was bisexual, and that she didn't want to freak me out. I said that was silly, that I'm okay with that.

Soon after that phone conversation, I got an email from her. In the email, she told me that she had been in love with me for the past few years, and was working out these feelings. A lot more was said, but she basically just put everything out there, for me to digest. At this point, I had just turned 18. Even though I had originally told her that I was 'okay with that', I never really thought about how it would affect me... and.. "in love"? with me?

I spent the summer in a daze. We had always had a sort of close connection, but I never thought of it as anything other than friendship. But, I have to admit, the prospect of anyone, male or female in love with me, excited me. The fact that she was of the same sex was a secondary issue for me. I knew that if I decided to open myself up to this relationship, that it would have to be a quiet thing. She wasn't out of the closet, and I wasn't sure I was even suppose to be in a closet at all.

By the end of the summer, after many emails and phone calls back and forth, I had told her that I would like to see what happens with this relationship. At that point, I wasn't in love, it just seemed like an exciting prospect. I was flying by the seat of my skirt.

She was, to say the least, surprised. She told me about her feelings because she felt I should know, but she never thought I would reciprocate them. It was the end of the summer, and I was moving into a house with 4 other people. I hadn't told anyone about what happened over the summer. She would drive down to see me as much as she could. We would usually get stoned and talk in my room. She would call me late at night, and we'd talk, or just listen to the radio together for the night. Needless to say, my first term marks for my 2nd year of university were a train wreck.

So, I jumped headlong into this relationship. We'd talk about "the future", we'd write melodramatic poetry to each other. We'd be at parties and stare at each other from across the room. We'd go for drives and hold hands while truckers, who could see us from their perch, would honk at us.

Looking back, I realize that if it was a guy and a girl, this relationship would seem quite wholesome. It would seem like puppy love. Or, first love, at any rate. However, I am, and always have been me, so I began wondering.... what about the sex?

I've always had a very difficult time separating sex from my close relationships. To me, sex is a display of my feelings for someone. So, if I am feeling intimate with someone, I will inevitably want to become intimate with them. Jane was no exception. We were as close as two people could be emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually (or so I thought at the time...). However, we lacked a physical closeness that was, as you may guess, very frustrating to me. We would hold hands, and be close in other ways, but I was anxious to explore this side of my newfound 'heteroflexibility' to its fullest. Looking back, I was not in this relationship for what I identified as 'love'. I was in it for the novelty of it; this was the first time someone expressed strong feelings for me, I wanted to reap all the benefits of those feelings.

She wasn't ready for me. In hindsight, I guess I was probably insensitive about her situation. Here was a gay (she later came out as a lesbian, a step up from the socially safer bisexual) woman, slowly coming out of the closet. On top of this, she was also dealing with mental (and physical) health issues. She was a cutter, she had a long standing battle with depression, and other diagnosed problems that I observed. Of course, she had intimacy issues. Even though she said she was in love with me, when she actually had me, I don't think she quite knew what to do with me.

So, I was patient. Yet a knew this barrier had to be taken down in order for me to stay interested.

One night, we went to visit a friend of hers who was staying in residence (side note: her friend, coincidentally, just happened to be staying in the same room that I lived in the year before). There was the typical dorm shenanigans going on. Then, somehow, we were alone in the room together. I was sitting on the bed, and she was walking around the room, stiff as a board. I remember pushing myself back, so that my back was against the call, and pulled her close to me so that she was sitting with her back to me, between my legs. I wrapped my arms around her, and squeezed. I was cautious, but also keen to see how far she would let me go.

I began massaging her shoulders and her back. I remember that she was wearing a navy blue tshirt, and a dark bra underneath. She was quite the opposite, physically, to me. She was tall, with a lean, athletic build. She had dark hair, and very cold brown eyes. She had a very big smile, and thin, but lovely lips. She had long, sleek fingers, but her hands were always cold.

I pushed myself closer to her, and began kissing her neck, very, very softly. I remember looking out and noticing that the curtains were open. We were on the 1st flood, and I wondered if anyone would see us. She was, surprisingly, receptive to me. She would roll her head to one side or another, her eyes closed, and she would let out small sounds when I'd place my lips on the right spots.

This went on for... 5 minutes? an hour? I don't know. I was too excited to worry about time. Eventually, though, she stood up, visibly shaken. She disclosed to me that that had never really happened to her before.

I later found out that she was prone to anxiety attacks. Anxiety attacks are often cyclical. When you are in the midst of an anxiety attack, your pulse quickens, your breathing increases, and you usually feel flushed. Sometimes, if you are in a situation that mimics these symptoms (say, being sexually aroused), it may bring on an anxiety attack, even though you do not necessarily feel anxious.

As time went on, our relationship climaxed (figuratively speaking), and then began a quick descent. Things turned very ugly, very quickly. After months of having tell me how much in love she was with me, I began to believe it, and probably began to scare her. She eventually told me that could no longer stay in this kind of relationship with me. I, for the lack of a better phrase, turned batshit crazy. I tried my hand at cutting myself (though only really succeeded once because, well, damn, it hurt. Though I still have a scar on my right forearm). One night I took a bottle of Tylenol, and woke up the next morning with Jane in my room, reading my journal, and then running out of me, with me after her, following her car down the street.

After that, I discovered the joys of heterosexual sex. I had met up with a friend I hadn't seen in awhile. I told him of the recent events of my life. We went to a strip club, then ended up in the back seat of Dodge. It was the first blow job I had ever given, poor guy (one word: TEETH).

But that's an entirely different story.



Yikes. That was more difficult to write than I originally had thought. I left out a lot of details, and drama, and characters, but I hope it was entertaining nonetheless.

1) I drank coffee too fast, and now my stomach hurts.

2) I am so tired of women in the office complaining about how busy they are because they are mothers and wives, how they spent all weekend cleaning, and how they have no time for themselves. You know what? You need to make time for yourself, if that's what you really want. What are you priorities? Why are you martyr-ing yourself? The sinkful of dishes can wait a day, the minutae of daily domestic living does not have to run/ruin your life! ARGH!

3) I have little interest in the daily goings-on in the office when I know I am leaving soon.

4) The is a new girl in the office who is a major butt-kisser, and it makes me want to vomit.

5) Speaking of vomitting, the ad for Celine Dion's new album ("Miracle") makes me want to vomit. Seriously, it was on the other day, and I litterally gagged.

6) There is a fly in my office that is flying around the lightbulb. I can't help but watch it, but the lightbulb burns my retina.

7) I despise November. A weird sort of black depression (is depression any other colour?) that sets over me. I just feel.. nothing. It'll pass, but for now, boo.

8) The next post will be much better. Promise.

I am cranky, cranky, cranky. If you think of me positvely, you may not want to read this post. It may skew your opinion of me.

I braved the elements this morning (driving rain, blistering winds) to go to the post office. I also went to the grocery story to buy some coffee cream, as the office was all out. I decided to pick up a few things for lunch, and for the weekend.

I got to the cash, and gave them my debit card. Insufficient funds. I knew I was in overdraft, but I didn't think I had reached my limit. So, I tried the Visa card. Decline. Oh, fuck.

I used to work in a grocery store. There used to be very poor people who would get an order of food, they'd get to the cash and not have any money. A lot of them would do it repeatedly. They'd look at me as if to say "oh, come on... can't you just let me have the milk?" Some of them would be embarrased, and I'd be embarrased for them.

Well, today, I turned into those people. I only had $7 on me (in twoonies, and loonies, even...not even the more respectable paper money..).... and the bill came to almost $20. So, there I was, having to throw back what I couldn't afford to buy. Thankfully, no one was behind me, but I could feel my face burning hot with embarrassement. It was awful. Adding insult to injury, I was in such a rush to get out that I ended up buying a package of English muffins, the coffee cream (note: when I got back to the office, it turns out someone had already bought some yesterday without telling me, maybe the whole trip to the grocery store pointless), and a red onion.

So, I go back to the office to take a closer look at my banking. Oh, its bad. Could someone please explain to me, though, why the bank takes out MORE money when you're already in the negative column? Bah. I'll be getting paid next week, thank god, but the majority of it will be eaten up by the overdraft. Bah x infinity.

I really hesitated writing this post. I don't like people knowing that I'm so broke. Hell, I didn't even know I was this poor, to be honest. Anyway.

And, so, most of the staff is out of the office again, today. I usually don't mind, except that they had things planned for today, and totally blew them off, and I had to pick up the pieces. There were people showing up looking to attend some programs they had today, and I didn't know anything about them. Oh, and that newspaper article came out. Good article, except the picture that they used simply has my name underneath it, and I'm not in the picture.

I want to go home, put on my jammies, and watch Judge Judy. Wah.

Okay, and now for my answers:

For everyone:


1. When was the last time you had sex?

Sunday morning. After a night of partying. It was brilliant.


2. When was the last time you masturbated?

Ha. Last night. To be fair, though, I hadn't done it since the Clitortest started.


3. On a scale of 1 (lowest) to 10 (highest), how much to you typically enjoy sex?

I believe you get out of it what you put into it. Usually around a 9. Sometimes a 10.


4. On a scale of 1 (hetero) to 10 (homo), where would you put your sexual orientation?

Hm. Between a 3 and a 4, depending. I'll say 3.75.


5. Where is the strangest place you have had intercourse?

In the ocean.


6. Where is the strangest place you engaged in activity besides intercourse (oral sex, hand jobs, rubbing, fondling, etc)?

In Mr. Wonderful's boardroom at his office, the night we met.


7. Do you have a (or more) sexuality fantasy(ies)? What are they? Would you ever act upon them?

I always fantasize about being on a desert island with a bunch of nymphomaniacs. They all have their own huts and I go door to door having unique sexual experiences with each of them. - a sort of tropic sexual buffet, if you will.


8. Have you ever been tested for sexually transmitted infections?

Yup. Clean as a whistle (the last time I checked..).


9. What is your favourite sexual position?

MW shows me moves I've never conceived of before, so I can't say I have a favorite. I do enjoy missionary, for 'intimacy', spooning, and if I just want to get off, girl on top (I'm just realizing this, but it's like damn.. I can climax in seconds. My only problem is that my legs are too short to get good leverage, so I may have to get creative.. or taller....)


10. Are you satisfied with your sex life?

Fuck yeah. Best. Sex. Ever! I just wish I had more of it! ;)



For Women:

1. When did you first begin masturbating?

Probably pre-natal, ha. Nah.. Probably around 9 or 10, though. My first "toy" was a Ziggy doll. It had a big nose that served nicely. I gave the toy to a friend of mine when he moved away. He still has it.

2. Do you enjoy anal sex?

I'm working on it. I really enjoy it once things are going, but the initial part I'm still having some problems with...

3. Have you ever fantasized about being raped and/or dominated?

Oh yes, definitely. It's fantasy number 1.

4. How do you feel about sexual activity during menstruation?

Not a problem. That's what Instead Cups are for.

5. Have you ever been concerned about your odor?

Yes, but only during my period...

I just started reading the biography of Alfred C. Kinsey the other night. I had bought it a while ago at a used book store, and forgot I had it. I learned last weekend that there will soon be a movie about him. For those of you that don't know, Kinsey is to sexuality as what Freud is to modern psychology. His research methods were often flawed, and he wasn't always on the mark, but he did shed light on the private sex lives of Americans, slowly eroding the Victorian morality of the 40s and 50s, and took the shame and guilt out of sex, for many people.

Kinsey was bold enough to ask his subjects the innermost details of their sex lives. What better way to do that again than by using the blogosphere?

So, for fun, here is my half-assed Tribute to Kinsey. Participate if you want, share your name if you want. I don't care. But have fun with it anyway.

For everyone:


1. When was the last time you had sex?

2. When was the last time you masturbated?

3. On a scale of 1 (lowest) to 10 (highest), how much to you typically enjoy sex?

4. On a scale of 1 (hetero) to 10 (homo), where would you put your sexual orientation?

5. Where is the strangest place you have had intercourse?

6. Where is the strangest place you engaged in activity besides intercourse (oral sex, hand jobs, rubbing, fondling, etc)?

7. Do you have a (or more) sexuality fantasy(ies)? What are they? Would you ever act upon them?

8. Have you ever been tested for sexually transmitted infections?

9. What is your favourite sexual position?

10. Are you satisfied with your sex life?


For Women:

1. When did you first begin masturbating?

2. Do you enjoy anal sex?

3. Have you ever fantasized about being raped and/or dominated?

4. How do you feel about sexual activity during menstruation?

5. Have you ever been concerned about your odor?


For Men (I don't think anyone will answer these, but anyway..):

1. Have you ever measured your penis?

2. What is your favorite time of day for sex?

3. Would you ever let a women (if you are hetero) perform anal sex on you?

4. What are your feelings on sex during menstruation?

5. Would you ever participate in a MFM 3-some?

Josh Hartnett I am not.

Although I am proud of myself for the... oh... week and a half I went without masturbation, recent events have made me realize that I must abandon my insane little experiment.

I realized this morning on my way to work that I will be living alone for only one more month. Then, it will be back to (oh, dear god, no) my parents place for (hopefully) a short amount of time, then (hopefully) I will be shacking up with Mr. Wonderful, where we will live in sin and have raunchy sex everynight. Sometimes with each other.

So just kidding. Jeez.

Anyway, all this to say that it may be a while before I can once again have the privacy that is integral for an evening of self-love. So, I've decided that proving myself right to Mr. Wonderful is much less important than getting myself off, which is much, much, more important.

So, I think I'll go to the drugstore, but a few dozen extra double A's, and have myself a great November.

Tuesday, January 20, 2004 So, here I am, I guess. The move went spectacularly well. I'm completely spoiled. I have such great friends.

I tried to fight it for 2 days, but I eventually couldn't help myself, and I've fallen in love with my little house. It doesn't feel like some old lady's old house. It feels like mine. In the evening, after I get off from work, I take off my jacket, put on a sweater, and my slippers... the same slippers that were way too hot on my feet at home. I spend the evening trying to find something decent on TV, or finding something to organize. I go to bed underneath a big comfy goose down comforter. My sleep is uninterrupted.

So, the job. I feel incompetent and totally inexperienced and unsure of myself. Yes, My Faithful Pep Squad, I know it will get better in time. In fact, today was better than the day previous. However, the other women who were in these position seemed to have been able to just pick up things and go with them. I'm not that sure of myself, at least just yet. I haven't gotten excited about anything yet.

Today, I told my boss I'd be leaving. She was in my office a lot today, just bouncing ideas off me, telling me about things, planning ahead. I sat there playing nervously with paper clips, carefully waiting for the best time to tell her. It never came. I couldn't actually say the words. There she was, complaining about how much she had to do, and how worried she was about the upcomming interviews she was doing for an unrelated job she posted... It never seemed like a good time, you know?

Then, she started talking about next year. She said something like "we'll need to talk about that", and my heart began to race, and I began to get flustered. She then asked me if I was planning on staying on after January. It came down to one word. "No."

I had tried to talk a bit more, to explain things, but I just couldn't. I felt myself getting emotional, as was she, and we decided that we'd get together for drinks some night and discuss things. I told her, though, that I didn't want to leave my job, per se. She said she thinks she knows the reasons I'm leaving, so that makes me feel better. We talked a bit more and she said they'd probably have to scale back my position for 2 or 3 days a week anyway, so I also don't feel like I leaving them out to dry.

I went back and read my first post from this new job (see above). I feel much more confident than I did when I arrived. I still feel unexperienced, but I've accepted the fact that the only thing that will change that is, well, experience. That comes with time. I also realized that the women who were here previously did not 'run with it', like I thought they did. Hm.

I won't write any goodbye speeches yet. That'll come soon enough. A month isn't a very long time.

On the upside of all this, and is much more exciting, I think, is that I will be coming home. Home. Hm. Over the last year, my definition of that word has changed dramatically. Y'know, it's true what they say. Home really is where the heart is.


Happy Birthday, baby.