Notice: Apple crumble isn't so crumbly the next day.

Have something to be proud of Canucks. Our government was toppled last night, and life goes on. Anywhere else in the world, things might be very iffy at this point. And with that, I implore ('cause I do a lot of that, not that it makes a diff) you, conscientious and informed, VOTE. on Jan. 23rd. It's important.

Orange. I like Orange. Knee-jerk reaction.

I feel icky.
For the first time ever, bedding random friends-of-friends for want of nookie or lack of anything better to do, hasn't left me with an extra kick to my step and a smile on my face.

Oh no, it's not that it was bad. It wasn't, it was fine. He wasn't an ass, or disrespectful or inconsiderate. He wasn't my type .(not that I have one, or that that makes a difference in these encounters) But he was the first person ever to buy me a drink in a bar.

He did admit to being thrown by my appearance, but taken by my attitude. Cool. One thing the new 'do and re-instated metal has done is immediately cut me out of the graces of a lot of the types I'm prone to making eyes at. People do judge by appearances. So he gets points for that.

But... but... but... He said the septum ring freaked him out. He said my fuzzy armpits were "wrong." He didn't agree with my "gender is so over" button, and throughout the whole encounter, he took great, obvious pains not to touch my hair.

So, it was all wrong, and it won't happen again. It was the first time I ever felt (and had to fight) the need to perform the post-coital bolt. There was none of that yummy chocolate-pudding, red-wine brain chemistry effect.

But it certainly got me thinking. You know that voice in your head is rarely too far off when it says: "Hon, you just need to get laid." And I'm reminded that sex and intimacy go real well together, but do exist exclusively of eachother. Maybe what the voices were saying, was that I need both to get laid, and to get intimate. Looked at closely, and loved.

I dunno. I'm stuck. Not interested in emotionally vapid sex, not interested in sex with anyone I'm emotionally invested in. Can't afford to invest in anyone new. Can't have intimacy with someone I'm not invested in. Those I'm invested in, flatly and rudely refuse to curl up with me and pay attention to my quiet parts.

I don't want to have to illustrate or explain. I don't want to say anything. I just want to be. If you just let me, and watch, you'll know more than I can tell you.

Maybe I better just lay off. Get me to a nunnery. Dive headfirst into work and nevermind. Declare asexuality and buy a new vibrator, for variety. I'd get a cat, but I'm allergic.
And besides. I refuse to be so stereotypical as to be a single woman, living alone, with her cats.

Grumble.