Judy Jetson

Thursday morning I woke up with Sharpshooter, spent the entire day so tired that I considered falling down some stairs for an excuse to go home immediately. Incidentally I also did this as a child to get out of gym class...well I didn't DO, I thought about it. True desperation. After running around exhausted I actually have a date that night with SBM.

We meet for dinner a little late bc I went to the gym first. We meet, and he spends the date venting about his issues re: enjoying life. This is fine. I'm glad he sees the problem and I like being a therapist. After years with my own, I'm pretty good at playing therapist-patient.

So here's the thing. I keep wondering when I get to have sex again. I'm like a 15 year old boy I swear. I mean that. I'm all charged up. I've relocated my vibrator (better known as judy jetson. the rabbit died. both of them actually. shut it. you know you have one too)...okay and I don't know if I should even admit this, but I was looking at porn the other day. No shit. I've never liked it in the past, but I was thinking about sex and I was like, fuck it, let's see what we've got. So wrong, yet very interesting. I think I may have actually learned a thing or two. Okay that is neitheer here nor there...

So I'm thinking about this, and I'm happy to see him, and I want to kiss him. He does not kiss me or hug me or touch me in any way. Finally I kiss him and I just ask "how come you never kiss me when you see me?" He says, "I guess I just didn't think about it." What?! What do you mean? Aren't you thinking about touching me?! Hello? AREN'T YOU A 15 YEAR-OLD BOY TOO!? Grrrr...

Not to mention I totally offerred him a Friday date (aka sex) and he turned me down. Maybe he's dating someone else. This is fine. Maybe he's working. This is not fine. I'd prefer he had another date. I had to kiss HIM goodbye. WTF...and Jody Watley starts playing in my mind..."Don't you want me, like I want you, to kiss and, to hold you tight..." Please let this not be a new theme song for me.

By the end of the weekend he was calling me and saying he "missed the sound of my voice." What does that even mean? Fucking call me and there it is! He should miss my magnificent breasts -- his words not mine. He still has not asked me out this week and I'm not doing it, man. I'm not. Sure, I want to put my hands on him, but he's going to have to turn up the pursuit here. Geez. Thank baby jesus for Judy Jetson, that's all I have to say.