Two Drink Maximum

I had two "Lady of the Sea" drinks tonight, so you know something was going down. Two of those drinks (or any drink, for that matter) are my absolute maximum. I had a date. Well, sort of. I met a guy there, let's say. Aw, for f*cks sake, I met a hook up there.

Whew, feel better confessing already. It's not even Lent yet.

And no, the alcohol did not cause the hookup. I was drinking because of the hook up.

Anyhow, I've now slept with three guys in a year. Actually more like six months. That's not quite a new record, because there was the summer of slut in my 20s, but it's pretty damn close, I think.

Jonathan is the only person who knows about it because I'm not ashamed to tell him anything. I also forwarded him all the info on the dudes mentioned so that he had all the info in case something bad happened to me. Other than this blog, I don't want to tell anyone about this. Even my fricking therapist. I got such negative feedback after the last dude. This guy; I saw his website before hand. He's a published author, so I saw his writing online. We went out for dinner and drinks. We chatted for an hour at least. I still wasn't sure about sex, so I told him we could go to my place and make out. Yes, I was that specific. I said I wasn't sure about anything else, so I didn't want to create an expectation. Well, the make out was good, so sexy time followed.

I was all good with everything, but now I'm starting to have some regrets. Or is it guilt? I don't know, but I'm starting to think maybe I should have left it at heavy petting and skipped the sexy time. Idk why, but that's how I feel.

I had another guy that I met up with a couple of times but he didn't text me back today, so I moved on. Ain't nobody got time for that.

Today is Mardi Gras. I suppose crazier things have happened on Fat Tuesday, n'est-ce pas? Oui.

It just amazes me what decision we humans makes when it comes to sex. Somehow our brain goes out the window and we're doing this strange act that is meant to procreate, but we take whatever means necessary to not procreate whilst doing it. We allow people we hardly know into our homes. We let this stranger see us naked and stick one of their body parts into ours.

I would have another drink, but I've had my fill.

If you know what I mean. Zing!

Jason rant

I am not dealing with this very well, I think. I can’t sleep, yet I can’t get up off my bootay to do anything productive. I had dreams about John Edwards (Crossing Over) last night (by last night, I mean between 5 and 8 am) and a cursed tray and a floating head and arms. I have way too much free time on my hands right now to go through a break up. I am on holiday and so that means I have absolutely nothing to do. I can’t find a decent radio station for anything, and I am genuinely perplexed as to why washing machines take two hours over here and only thirty five minutes in America. I am irritable….at everything. If I eat another Bourbon Cream, I think I’ll be sick. I feel pathetic. I called Jay before he left for work this morning. I’ve never called Jay in the morning, but now that we broke up, I feel that I must speak to him as soon as he wakes up? When did I become some needy puppy dog?




I’m losing my voice and getting some kind of cold I think. This may have contributed to the fact that I woke up with drool all over my face and literally felt like a puppy dog. This didn’t help the pathetic factor, either. My housemates are away on holiday and I am here, typing, on the computer, about how pathetic I feel.

Damn you, Jay! I offered you a no strings attached relationship with no commitment and it was YOU who insisted on being “together”. To see only each other, to be boyfriend/girlfriend. I was dubious, but went along with it. As I really started to like you, I told you, and I said, “Jason, you better be sure about this, b/c my emotions are getting involved now.” You were sure, you assured me. I talked about how I hoped that you could patient with me until I got the courage to allow myself to open up, to care, to be cared for. You said it would just take time. I asked if you would still be there when I sorted it out. You said “yes”.

Never once did you happen to mention that you yourself won’t open up at all to anyone. You failed to mention that you knew this relationship was going nowhere b/c you had made that decision upon its creation (which, I may reiterate, was YOUR IDEA!) You didn’t hint at the fact that you’ve already decided you will never love again b/c it hurt too much. No, you let me think it was ME with all the issues. I cared for you more and more, but you, your feelings never got any deeper than they were when we first met. And you wonder why I was afraid to open MYSELF up. I couldn’t have been more clear about what I was feeling and why I was feeling it. You repeatedly assured me, that yes, everything was fine, you were being straightforward, etc., etc. I believed you. Silly, silly me.

And then, after I remind you of all this, all you can say is, “I guess I wasn’t really listening to what you were saying”. HUH?!

I really, really hate what you did to me, Jason. It’s not as if I just got the wrong idea. It’s not as if I backed you into a corner. I offered you what you (I now assume) wanted and no, you said you liked me, you wanted to be with me, only me. End of story. I warned you that I was starting to care, you told me it was alright. Then, out of a post coital comment, I find out that you never had any intention of really caring? And then YOU accuse ME of taking things too seriously. My God, no wonder I’m bitter.

This was pasted in from my old geocities page on 2/12/13. Geocities closed, but it is archived here http://www.geocities.ws/sabrinigreen/Oct282003.html