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2001-08-28 / 8:40 p.m. ~Should I really be writing this, here?~ More disturbing comments at work today. I'm just saying that if we had more actual work to do we wouldn't spend so much time talking, sharing disturbing comments, and such. Lulu is great, in her way. She is funny, she laughs, a lot, I love to make her laugh, and she makes me laugh, with her laughter. Does that make sense? I pegged her as a Cancer and I was right. Okay, that's scary. I love astrology, I've studied it off and on for years, I know a good bit, I guess, but I actually figured her out. And that is scary. But yeah, she's goofy like that, and that laugh, that goofy laugh, no other word for it, and the way she assimilated so rapidly, the way she fits in, but the way she is quiet too, a bit moody (okay, we're women with hormones, we're ALL moody, but this is different), it made sense when she said, "June 25th" when I asked when her birthday is. So, we're talking about the Big Game, again, because we're convinced we'll win tonight. We have 17 chances. We are certain, so certain, we are "claiming" it, and can I get an AMEN? I am burning a candle to the Virgin Mary of Guadalupe right now, I even asked whoever is responsible for this mess that is us to consider me for winning because I will save the world with my winnings. Which is what I mentioned to Lulu. Yes, I will donate a large portion of my winnings to the World Wildlife Fund and I will volunteer my time as well. It's important to preserve the endangered species of the world, to try to save the green spaces on this planet, help, in whatever way I can, to ensure the continuance of the earth's fragile ecosystems, for without them the sustainability of life is left to chance. To our chance, to our own self-destruction. I brought up the tigers, said there are fewer than 2,000 left in the wild. She said, "I don't care about animals!"....and I gasped, inside, inside I gasped again, this was too much, can she be serious, and I brought up her children, asked, How can you not care and show any concern for the future of your children? How can you care about them, their lives, without realizing that their health and welfare are dependent on the survival of all species on this planet? She said I was sounding like something off the Discovery Channel. And I said she needs to educate herself. And it was sad, and I wanted to turn away, no, run away, I didn't want to make her see because she was not respecting my knowledge, she was proud of her ignorance. This is what I wasn't sure I could write, a bonus to anyone who has scrolled so far down this page... Yes, that was disturbing, yes, people are disturbing, but I've been in touch with Nelson lately. Nelson, Mr. ICQ, Mr. Phone Sex, Mr. Sure I'll Come Visit You For Labor Day, But Then I'll Change My Mind and Not Come After All. So, I was thinking about him. It's true. Thinking, well, it's been almost one year, one year since all of that. That. So, I wrote him a little ICQ note. That's it. Next thing I know he's begging authorization again, to add me to his contact list, which means he deleted me at some point, fine, what the fuck do I care?, and so I authorize, and well, there he is, one day, and we're chatting, sort of, and he says I'm harboring ill feelings, but how can he tell by the way I ask,"How are you?"? So, couple days ago, I get the idea I want an orgasm. See, this is the juicy stuff, the stuff I don't know I should write, here, but it happens, yeah, and it will bring up odd searches on a popular search engine, and should I care? Be concerned? Right, think I'll have an orgasm, mmm...that would be fine. And it is fine, of course it's fine, I love my own vulva, think it's beautiful, I can see it from here, certain angles, know just the right spots, know just how, where, how long, with what finger, or fingers, vary it, change it, this way or that, casual, serious, long and lingering, fast and furious. After, I'm online, and there he is, on ICQ. He is chatting with me, but not just me, I can tell, he takes so long to answer, and I want him to want me, again, and I flirt, and I tell him of my labia, describe the color of the folds, the shapes, the appearance when swollen and engorged with blood. I know he will get hard just reading it, and he does, he says. He is busy, I know, I can tell, but he asks when we will have phone sex again and I put him off. He wants to know when he can call me, again, and I say maybe next weekend. One year after he was to really be here, to do it all in person, to share my bed, one year since he didn't, since he never came here, since he canceled, for his own good reason. I can't help myself though, and for the first time in such a long time I look at porn on the 'net. I go to my favorite porn photo site, and the photos are the same as always, the same configurations of folks doing the same old things, and I think ho hum, been here, saved that .jpg. Got my own folder, labeled "porn". But there's one, there's one that I like, and I'm staring at it while I know he is still there, I can see him there, and I wonder how much he really wants me to get him off again. She's thin, her breasts are small, one penis is entering her vagina, one man is to her side, she is just beginning to taste his penis, and one man to her other side, his penis in his hand, and the way he is holding it, so gently, so firmly, so lovingly, so adoringly, so ready, ready to be next, with her. They are all hard, all aroused, of course she is not wet, the women never are, but she seems happy just the same. I thought how long it's been since I've seen one, a real live penis, up close and personal, almost one year, and I missed it intensely in that moment, missed having one of my "own" around, missed having a semi-permanent one around, for my own pleasure, my own joy. It was an incredible turnon to see. That's it. Me, sex, masturbation, longing. Me, wanting a penis of my own, attached to the man of my choice, of course. It was an intense desire brought about by the visage of the male genitalia, and that, to me, was fasincating and unexpected, and I enjoyed it fully. Cost of the War in Iraq
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