It Hurts to Be This Sexy
	2004-03-11 | 12:58 p.m. Rambling about sex, kissing, shmohawk, and green
	I'm kind of freaking out about work a little. Yeah. That hasn't changed the amount of work I'm actually doing, though, so my thesis is still looming like a rather large, unfinished storm cloud in the horizon. Blah. Glurb. Guttural noises that express a general sense of discomfort. I've been talking with Shmohawk a lot more lately, mostly because she lost her job and has been home and has called me a few times in the past couple of weeks. In the spiral of life, we've hit a return loop, and I'm crossing the intersection line from farther away this time. It's working out, mostly because she has finally realized that she's still smitten with her (now completely) ex-girlfriend. It gives me the ability to maintain the kind of distance that keeps everything comfortable between us. However, I think she believes we'd have made a good couple if we lived closer together. I'm trying not to tell her how completely faulty her logic is, because I think it would fuck her up way more than necessary, but I told her last night that, in terms of long distance stuff, I couldn't be with someone who expected me to be a chaste little monkey while they were gone. It's all a matter of the fact that I enjoy kissing and touching and physical contact, and that I can't give that up for anybody right now. Of course, I'm still really sorting through all of this stuff and recognizing what I need and what I want and the ways that I can get it. She thought I had kissed a lot of people. I realized that I totally skipped over the people I kissed at the play party I went to, because kissing them was an extension of something that I keep entirely separate from connected kissing. It was kissing because these people were there, because kissing was what needed to happen to create the right energy for the moment. It's the equivalent of making out with your pillow at a slumber party. For me, right then. She really didn't get that. Of course, I have been kissing people I've liked kissing. Boston Erotica Girl and Skirt Girl, I've realized, were both excellent examples of exactly the kind of kissing I enjoy most--that connected, friendly, playful extension of hands and fingers into the face and mouth and tongue. In a way that expresses a need to touch in a totally different way. Yeah. Following that vein, I'm having a total crush fest on Skirt Girl. She's helping me with Friday night's drag show, and I'm really hoping to kiss her again. There's just something entirely blissful about her energy that makes me want to connect with her on as many levels as possible. I've also never been so smitten with skirts moving up thighs as I am when she's around. I feel like giggling and touching her knees. I usually do. It's all sex all the time. Even breathing is sex. I'm taking this opportunity to blame it on spring time. The sky is blue enough to hurt you if you aren't careful, and I am so green it is practically shocking. **Explosive Blooming** The weather that ROARED - 2005-03-01 Enabler's Rag - 2005-02-15 Where in the world? - 2005-01-14 Where have all the rude boys gone? - 2005-01-04 quickly - 2004-11-21 <-- - -->	Last Next Newest Older Rings Pictures Links Profile Guestbook Email me Notes Diaryland Hate is Great

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