Okay, so I'm not a huge fan of condoms*. But I'm really, really not a fan of used condoms in my bathroom waste bin. They're just gross looking, like big deflated snot slugs.
Is it too much to ask that they be wrapped in a bit of tissue before being thrown away?
Or is it some sort of machismo territory marking thing?
Whatever, wrap the wrapper 'kay dudes?
thanks.


*I use them though. Even though they chafe and ruin those pleasant calm moments after he's come and all you really want to do is lay there and feel him go all fluttery soft inside you (le sigh).

It's been too long.
It's been months now and I still cry almost every night.
M has a new girlfriend. She looks kind of like me, but a little taller and a little less... defined, she seems to fade into whatever she's around. I hope it's just because she doesn't like me.
I met a sweet boy, but he is too much a boy. It was great for a bit, but after about a month I started crying every time we had sex. It was a relief to break up with him, even though I like him.
Also, while I enjoy oral sex I really can't stand more than a few minutes of it before I get really incredibly bored. It doesn't matter how good you are. And blowjobs are only an option until it's not fun for me anymore, which is actually a rather long time comparatively.
There was a boy once that used to make "enjoyment" noises when he performed cunnilingus, like he was in a campbells soup advertisement or I was a particularly good hamburger. It was very off putting actually.

I thought things were better. He said things were better.
and then he gets all quiet again.
and says that he thinks it would be best if we weren't lovers anymore (he said it like that).

I'm still crying.
I love him too much to really be angry, but I am so sad.

And part of me just wants to hold him down and fuck him until I don't hurt so much anymore. Part of me just wants to fuck anything that moves.
and that makes me feel even worse.

Everything I own is covered in shed cat fur.
I blame M's cat.

We went through a funny little period just before Valentine's Day. Wherein I expressed unhappiness, or rather, lack of confidence or something. I was unhappy mostly because he seemed unhappy and things like that tend to snowball if you let them. And it's pretty easy to let them.

So there were some e-mails. because I really think that writing can be beneficial. I like to be able to take a lot of time to try and make things mean the right thing. But maybe that didn't work so well.

And then there was talking and crying and sleeping (with no sex. we almost always have sex before we fall asleep. it's just how we are.). and more talking and a little more crying. He admited that he had been thinking about dumping me and I said that I kind of had been feeling as if that might be true, but that I really felt like the friendship and the love that we have is something that shouldn't just be given up like that. and then we went and had breakfast.

And now things seem better.

I'd say the sex is good, but that doesn't mean much, I think maybe we're too compatible when it come to sex. The sex is always good.
No, I just feel more secure now, like there aren't any traps waiting between us, just hurtles (which are easier I think because you can see hurtles and they're possible to get over, but traps already have you by the time you realize where you are and you're only ever recovering from them rather than preparing).

I spent the last twenty minutes trying to get super glue out of my pubic hair.

Successfully trying, actually.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. I had a little zit thing (I get them occasionally. I had my doc look at one last time I went, but she said it was normal and nothing to worry about) and it hurt, so I was picking at it in the tub because lord knows I can't just leave things to heal on their own. and then there was blood, but a lot less hurt.
but blood.
and I got that staunched (okay, i held a touch of toilet paper over it for about twenty seconds and it was fine).
But then I thought I had such a good idea because I bought liquid bandage the other day. I could cover it with that!
but it's a lot my liquid than you would think.

idiot.

I'm not a happy girl right now.
I'm coming to terms with a medical issue that I really should have just gotten taken care of two years ago and has now grown far out of proportion. an ingrown toenail. a nasty icky painful and rather gross ingrown toenail that I know the podiatrist will admonish me about (which makes me want to cry).
But M has told me that he won't talk to me until I make an appointment to get it fixed.
which actually did make me cry.

I'm also finally coming to terms with having been raped repeatedly by one of my ex-roommate's friends several years ago. I'm fairly certain that I really don't want to talk about it. But just thinking about it as rape makes a lot of how I felt that year a lot more clear to me.

Also, just for reference "I can't stand you" should never be moaned during sex. even if I did understand after a moment that what M really meant was something along the lines of "I can't hold back, I'm going to come in about 2 second if you don't stop moving right now". It still kind of pulls you out of the moment.
I love him anyway.

I guess sometimes all you have to do is ask.
But it's a little hard to come up with the romantic way to tell your partner that you really want them to fuck you in the ass once in a while.
Plus, I kind of wanted him to ask me. and he did finally.
"Would you like it", he asked huskily as he stroked and fondled my asshole, "if I made love to you here?"
Of course I nodded enthusiasticly.
It's strange. I never liked it before, just a little painful and unemotional and just kind of making me want to weep. But I feel like I'm in more control now or something, and I trust him.
I don't really climax the way I do normally though, it's softer, wider, like falling or floating or something and afterwards all I can do is laugh and smile. I don't want to move or talk, I just want to be.

Which is quite pleasant.