I had a quasi-sex dream this morning. I had manual sex with a dirty pothead. I woke up feeling dirty.

Is it too much to ask to actually have a real sex dream? Can I get any satisfaction?

At this point, I should probably bring up the old metaphor of the 8-peckered rabbit in a bowling alley. Ah, yes. Jenn's ovulation, which means by this weekend... her weekend home, she'll be menstruating. This doesn't necessarily inhibit any potential activities going on this weekend, but it certain affects my enjoyment. Goddamnit.

To continue with this posts theme of frustration, I'm in the middle of writting a prosopal for a sex project. I'm finding it infinitely difficult to put everything that needs to go in, while keeping the length under the maximum. Damnit, damnit, damnit.

Obviously, the solution to everything is that I JUST NEED TO GET LAID.

The birthday weekend is over, and like most things in life, it was filled with good and not-so-good moments. I went whale watching in a zodiac, though all we saw were birds (!) and a few harbour seals. I made constant references to Danger Bay (Joooonahhhh!), and wearing oversized orange jumpsuits also made the experience quite enjoyable. Oh, we also got to stay here, eat overpriced though delicious food, and generally made asses of ourselves in the pompous atmosphere. Nevertheless, definitely a great trip. Oh, and there was free porn in the room, that helped a lot.

Birthdays are about presents, and I got some great ones. Some highlights: an Ipod Shuffle, new luggage, a blow-up doll, the Scent Stories Machine and other great stuff.

Missing from the list?

Birthday sex.

Sigh.

So, obviously, Mr. Wonderful does not read this blog as much as I had thought, or else he has downright ignored it, in which case, MW would now stand for "Mostly Wonderful". Granted, there was little time for it. My weekend seemed extremely rushed, and there wasn't a whole lot of alone time, and when there was, I was falling asleep at the wheel. I think I've made my displeasure at this situation quite clear, so hopefully I'll be treated to a bit more fanfare at our next encounter. If not, I'd like you to meet my new girlfriend.

It's Spring! Two of my friends have entered into passionate love affairs. It's very exciting to watch from a distance! It nevertheless reaffirms my belief that women are bat-shit crazy - myself included - when it comes to relationships. We have no confidence. We are women, they are men. Advantage: us. Really, it's that simple. Seriously. Relax.

So, we had to mandatory birthday cake and card with the associated unenthusiastic mumbling of the "Happy Birthday" song. I hate those. It was nice, though. No one asked me how old I was (or will be), though, which leads me to believe that I'm getting to the age where it's impolite to ask (i.e.: I'M OLD). Damnit.

And so, I will be off tomorrow to celebrate my birthday. I've decided to wear the Smart Balls throughout the weekend, just to set the mood.

Well, I've checked out.

I've always been excited about my birthday. It's the unexpectedness of it. I guess I am still a kid at heart, but, man, who doesn't like getting presents and attention?

Tomorrow I will be spending on day in pointless meetings, then going to get my hair did. Who knows what I'll come out with? I don't even know yet, though I have some ideas.

Owie, owie, owie. I failed to mention this earlier, but I managed to submerse myself and a kayak into the Saint John River over the weekend, thinking I was graceful enough to enter a kayak from a dock. On my way down (or back up again, I can't remember through the fog of embarassement), I banged my elbow and tore off some skin. It's just now starting to heal, but the area is very tender, and the skin feels tight when I move my arm.

And so, back to 'work' for a few more hours...

I've been re-reading my blog over the past few days. More than a walk down memory-lane, re-reading past entries gave me new insight on my writing style. I've come to a few conclusions:

1) I'm a pretty funny gal.
2) I really need to proofread.
3) Although there are some particularly graphic posts, I need to hold back on the more personal raunchy stuff. I know at least a few people among my readers who have no interest in the details of my sex life.

Anyway, I've decided to whore my blog a bit. I am listed on Blogs Canada, under "Sex", and would like to move up on their list. I'm currently on page 3, but would like to move up a page or two. I'm not quite sure what their criteria is, but I think having feedback helps. So, if you feel this blog is worth some praise, or even if you think it sucks, go over there and let them know.

To address my final point (#3), I've been considering having a 2nd blog. This would be an anonymous blog, where I could write graphically about sex, without the fear of anyone feeling different about me. If anyone is interested in reading it, let me know and I'll send you the link. Otherwise, it'll be business as usual at the J-Spot.

.... in case you still haven't got on it, yet. Some of these are free, some are materialistic, and some are thinly-veiled hints to Mr. Wonderful.

1. Again, for the 3rd year in a row, a kayak, damnit.
2. Restraints. No, no... The erotic kind.
3. An Ipod Mini.
4. A weekend spa getaway.
5. A bigger television.
6. Cool kitchen gadgets.
7. A make-out session. Like the ones you had in junior high behind the bleachers, that lasted for hours. Imperfect, sloppy, hot-hot-hot kissing. The kind that make your feet curl up, and make you feel weak. I will accept this gift from anyone reading this list. o_O
8. A shower radio.
9. A bigger shower.
10. A tiara.
11. A basset hound.
12. A little whipping.
13. A plane ticket to South Africa, or Lake Louise.

I hate when plans don't work out.

Here's the situation:

I currently live in a bachelor apartment. I pay $450/month, which includes heat, lights, water, cable and laundry. I'm subleting until August, when I will either take over the lease, or find a new place. Since I have to tell my landlady (Ms. Chow, I'm so not kidding) whether I'm staying or not by the end of the month, I've started looking for places now. I'd really like to have a 1-bedroom, but not have to pay more than, say, $550 for it, and that's with everything included. I haven't had much luck with that though. So, I've started weighing the pros and cons of staying and leaving.

Staying in my current abode:

Pros:

• I don't have to move.
• Rent is very cheap.
• It's very close to work, and on the bus route to anywhere else I want to go.
• For a bachelor, it's relatively spacious.

Cons:

• It's a bachelor, and considering I used to live in a 3 bedroom house by myself, it's tiny.
• My neighbours leave trash in the hall way just outside my door and it stinks.
• There are raccoons who feast on our garbage every week.
• I potentially may be locked into a year lease, meaning I'll have to sublet next summer. I may not get anyone to take over, so I may be out rent for 3 or 4 months.
• It's a ver small place for a cat to live in.

Finding Greener Pastures:

Pros:

• I will live in a bigger place, and I will have greater control over where I live (now that I have a few weeks to find something, rather than a few days) which would make it better for entertaining.
• I will hopefully have a more upscale home - garbage service, security, functioning lights, no vermin.

Cons:

• I will probably have to pay through the teeth, meaning I won't be able to save any money.
• I will have to move.

So, what does everyone think? What would you do? Help!!

I'm going to be 26. That's pretty old, isn't it? Should I start thinking about where my life is going? Should I start settling down? Start pushing out babies?

Hm. Nah, not quiet yet.

In the meantime, I'll practice the baby making part, though. That's fun. By that, I mean fully protecting myself against actually making a baby, but going over the procedure, nonetheless.

Speaking of, I've realized that I have had boom-boom within a few feet of my parents WAAAAYYY too many times. Way. Too. Many. I wonder if they know that? Or do they assume the mysterious noises coming from our tent our typical sleeping noises? Hm.

Oh, speaking of sleeping noises, MW and I had the best sleep (together) we've had in a while! My noises were kept to a minimum, and there was lots of cuddling and associated loveliness. It recharged me. There's nothing that comforts me more than being able to touch someone else's warm skin while I sleep.

Two things on my mind today comes in waves: Electricity and Love.

Since you can read about personal love lives in any pre-teen blog in the universe, I won't really eloborate on that one.

Much more interesting is the wave of electricity that surge from my wall this morning, into my middle finger. Jesus. What an odd feeling. I've been shocked before (have I wrote about my electric fence incident?), but I've never been electrocuted. In my haste to pack for the weekend, I was clumsily trying to get my cell phone charger out of the wall. I did everything the lightbulb on TV tells me not to do. I pulled the cord part instead of the actual plug part, then my finger must have slipped and made contact with the outlet. I can only describe as a 'warbling' effect. My middle finger felt like it turned into Jell-o. Strange.