I looked back at the resolutions I jotted down in January and I am totally pounding through them! I even quit my job and got a new one, albeit an on-call position.

I'm totally over that ding-dong I wrote about last time. I still have to throw out the pajama pants that he accidentally ripped. His joke is "even your pants wouldn't let me where the pants." I thought we could be friends, because that's what he wanted, but he would never hang out with me in real life. Earlier this month I finally cut him out! I am so proud. I'm not good at totally forgetting about people- I try to at least be friends but it's a shit show when they remind you what went wrong or that they would totally be down for some freaky fun times NSA. I'm all about the getting down sometimes but there can't be any emotional crap from the past in the back of my head. Last month I had the perfect NSA experience- an old co-worker who was in town for a week that I never had feelings for and never thought of banging until that week I think. He used to be a little chunker but all that struggling through EMT training/work and surfing a lot chiseled him down to a mean bearded sex machine. Who knew that if I quit saying "no" I would have a lot more sex. But apparently with some dudes if girls try to initiate it they get all emasculated and aren't into it. So girls, pretend you don't give a shit.

So this year here's the score so far: Brain: 1, Vagina: 1

Wow I totally forgot about this blog!
It's 2011 now... glad 2010 is over.
Things happened... with people... that we don't really need to repeat here.
All I can say is for 2011 I hope I continue to work on improving myself- exploring my interests, getting more physically fit, meeting new people, etc.
2010 left me with a giant man shaped hole in my heart. Right now I want to fill it with everything I can get my hands on... but really is that how you heal a wound? No, you nuture it and let the edges approximate and you let granulative tissue form and eventually it's like normal again... but getting over it SUCKS SO MUCH. It's only been a couple days but every time I find myself alone I start thinking about it again and getting sad it didn't work out. Because it was going pretty damn well but we couldn't interpret each other's words the way we meant the other person to understand. And feelings were hurt.

Anyway,
some stupid resolutions:
1.) work out 5 times a week (part of this is lose 8 lbs- very do-able and will get me into the healthy BMI range)
2.) cook new things
3.) spend time with friends, keep in contact far away friends
4.) read more books- maybe my kindle will help me do that
5.) meet new people
6.) find a new job
7.) less knitting! or at least combine knitting with other socially isolative activities

I think I can do it... minus number 6 haha stupid job market!

Get tested.

My new standards: no sex before monogamy, no sex with people who haven't been tested recently.

Getting tested was really easy. They were up there anyway for a pap- one extra swab tests for gonorrhea and chlamydia. The HIV antibody test was a quick blood test (why they didn't use the oral test, I don't know.) I plan to frame my results of cleanliness above my bed and demand a passport for passage before entry from others. Not having insurance isn't a good enough excuse. Go to Planned Parenthood and if I want to sleep with you bad enough I'll just pay the $30 sliding scale (whatever it is these days.)

Sexting brainstorm "I'm blank for blank"

I thought of these in my sleep deprived stupor of flipping back to days for a week:

Oinkin' for a boinkin'

Prayin' for a layin'

Hurtin' for a squirtin'

Beggin' for a peggin'

Hankerin' for a spankerin'

Jonesin' for a bonezin (the one that started it all)

The last two don't really work. And none of them work on guys unless the guy's wasted, in that case he would have sex with you anyway.

How sex made me crazy.

I have to go to bed now but I just wanted to write that title down for later.

Sunshine does not make day-sleeping any easier.

The naming of parts

I was talking to one of my man friends about the names of our junks. I called his a "wang" as I think all other names for penis are either derogatory or medical "cock", "dick", "PENIS"... anyway I said that I guess I call mine "chatchi" but after looking at urbandictionary.com I can't use it anymore! It means cocaine or italian guy. "The Situation." I don't think so. This guy I work with called his wang "Mr. Happy." Really? You're going to tell me about how "Mr Happy" has a yeast infection? Shit. If you're talkin' gross medical things about your dick call it your dick. Or a penis.

Anyway, I don't like the word vagina and I'm only going to use the word if I have to visit the doctor. One of my man friends named mine Lady Gaga, and my ass is Her Golden Carriage. Isn't it cute?!! If my vagina were Lady Gaga she'd wear that sparkly silver iceberg outfit from the Grammys! I just named his junk after rappers. I think everyone should name each other's junk. It makes hooking up a little more personal. Then you can write dirty texts and probably get away with it if someone else reads them.

Also, this blog is hilarious: http://onedatatime.typepad.com/. She's a writer for Jezebel and stars in Pot Psychology.

The appeal of Beyonce

One of my friends doesn't not like Beyonce. I thought she had universal appeal. I thought she was the glue that keeps men and women together. Women admire her but know they can't be her. Men want to... do things to her. She has a.) family values, b.) Jay- Z, c.) dance moves, d.) jelly, e.) awesome boobs, and f.) girl power







Wow I can't format this thing... I didn't have geocities as a child. Anyway, I'm sure we've all tried to drunkenly do the single ladies dance with our favorite lady pals and we were LOVIN OURSELVES and knew we are beautiful women!