I know this is bassackwards, but I have not spent much time talking about me. And I like talking about me. See, I am an attention whore. A few years ago when I was (cough) fully expressing myself with many other men, after a romp one guy was stroking my hair and said, "You really are an attention whore." Not "I love your hair" or even a simple "wow."
He was a bit of an ass anyway, but after careful contemplation after restraining myself from making a comment about his shrinking manhood, I decided he was right. I mean I probably fucked him because he was giving me attention (oh, and I am sure my shrink would say something about unmet needs) – and I would get mad if he had not given me attention. I wonder how many women (and from the look of this site, girls too) spread their legs for attention – sure, you can call it love, or wanting to fill a physical need, but lets face it, a shiny new vibrator gets the job done more efficiently.
Hey, I got off subject. I wanted to talk about me, but not about my whoring. Yesterday, someone with a really interesting blog asked me if I am really a slut or do I just have a very good imagination. I think he was more tactful than that, but that's sort of what he meant.
So now I get to talk about me (my favorite subject). I really like me, I do. When I was in college, I dated a lot – not that I had many lovers (if that means "going all the way"). Exactly 12 lovers between dating and married, and these boys were not disciples. I got married right after college, and I was a good Catholic wife. Catholic hubbie, Catholic wife, sex twice per week, everything was going swimmingly.
Then the boredom set in. I was not motivated to excel in the job (all of the jobs after college were either administrative or retail), hubbie and I were not talking much anymore, whatever. Then I started sleeping around and around and around. I worked at a small shop (read all of my stories and you can guess which one), I ordered stuff from vendors (mostly men), and I had a ball (literately or figuratively speaking).
Then my hubbie caught me "in the act." Recanted my bad behavior. Currently going to counseling, was on medication for more than one year, and I am reformed. Sort of. I don't sleep around anymore, but this blog will fill the itch (fill my snatch?). I am terrible.
So this is the Reader's Digest version of where I have gone from, where I am, where I am going with this blog.
Indifference is the Opposite of Love
1 day ago