Hubris.co.nz

So, here’s the thing. I know it’s been a long time since I wrote, but here’s my current big issue: I haven’t pashed any boys this year. More specifically, I’ve only made out with girls in 2008 (see how that’s different? No, me neither). And that would be okay if I was going into the pashings thinking that it could be something that lasted OR if I was going into them thinking that it would be something that would be fun for the moment. But I don’t think that I could apply those two rules to all the ladies whose lips I have known, and that makes me feel a bit bad.

See yes, in practice, I’m bisexual, and I know because I do it in secret corners that it’s not just a for-show thing, I like to tell stories, but I do also like to live in the moment. This is why I’m currently in confusion. I like the physicalness of pashing – but I also very much like the emotional satisfaction of someone wanting to pash me, and maybe in my current physical (read: fat. Or maybe super curvy if you wanna be that way) then I am more attractive to girls than I am to men, but like, dude, I’d like to pash a boy. That would be nice.

And there are guys. There was Tingle earlier this year and I destroyed any hope of that with my passive aggressive mental texting – I should have just sat on my hands and hoped that he’d break up with his girlfriend and realised that we had like, so much in common and he was exactly EXACTLY like a boy in my past – how could he not know that and see that and want to be that role in my life? And there are very very brief segue-ways (but I’m not riding around on one because I’m not a douche) and this Saturday at Kowhai’s I met a boy that I thought that I should totally totally be with forever, and I was worried that maybe I’d told him that and maybe that’d been a bit weird for him and though we should totally be together, maybe I’d come on a bit strong, because I was a little bit drunk after Amy’s 30th, but then Karen put my mind at ease by going “oh, the guy you were straddling?” so really, I don’t need to worry about anything I said. But yes, he was really ordinary, and hard to describe, and I don’t know his name, but I totally thought we had the same sense of humour and I liked him.

And see, maybe that’s the point. A couple of weeks ago, I had a Romanian party, and then we went to a “fetish” party – I use the quotes because it was people dressing up like they think fetishes would be, rather than full-on gimp masks – and there was this girl who kept grabbing my boobs, because “i like boobies” and I got to grab hers lots, and while I wanted to pull her out of public view and do more than that, I’m not like “I would like to have a relationship with her”. And maybe it’s I haven’t met the right girl, or maybe I’m homophobic (“if I’m just getting blowjobs, not getting it up the ass, then I’m not gay, right?”) but it’s just like urrrgh, I like boys, and I like cock, and I’d really like to get some please.

And that’s what the title of this post is all about – it’s the work-friendly version of my universal request. If you’re not a boy and/or you don’t want to have sex with me, can you please introduce me to your friends? Invite me to parties, invite me to nights out, even if we’re not that close. I’ll name my kids after you, it’ll be awesome. I’ll be a great wife. And if it’s sunny on Sunday, I’m having an official launch of Sausage Quest 2008. I’m not providing anything officially, but I will totally probably make margaritas, and I have the best terrace ever. Come over any time and bring anyone.

Oh and if that’s not your bag baby, please at least pass on this message: flatmate wanted, lovely big room, Newtown $160

xojo

I couldn’t be bothered rounding up any friends tonight, and I thought my fiance was going to be in town but he’s actually in Raglan, so instead I stayed at home and watched teen movies by myself. Now, that’s not actually as lame as it sounds. Well, okay, maybe it is. But I’ve still enjoyed myself immensely <!– oh yes, I enjoy myself on average  at least twice a day lately, but that’s beside the point –>. But anyways. The whole teen movie thing kinda promoted me into planning to write a disection of my life according to teen movie rules whilst I was watching American Pie, but then I watched Cruel Intentions 2 and it was so terrible and amusing that I lost my plot. It was a porn movie without any porn.

So yeah, afterthat I really can’t be bothered addressing the myths and traditions and all like I planned to. Besides, I think we all know that I’d just be writing it cos right now I have a craving for skin to skin contact that’s not being fulfilled. I want kissing! Dammit, why oh why did I pass my Slut-Stick on? (oh, and think of that like a relay rather than a vibrator please, like fuck I’d give up my purple friend). Although of course the girl that I passed it to fully deserved it and everything, and I’m so NOT calling you a slut, but you know that I do blame you for the fact that no one is putting out for me anymore.

I got approximately two hours sleep last night, and of course I once actually got to sleep, Ben came home and was loud and so i woke up and took ages to get back to sleep, grr. My alarm went off at 7.30am because I was supposed to go to an 8am class, but I realised there was no way that I could make it,so i txted Jinan to say I’d meet her at 10 in our office to finish off our Com Strat assignment and that’s waht I did, although my eyes were barely open. She accused me of being hungover,which wasn’t at all true – I don’t know why I couldn’t sleep last nioght, but eventually i got so bored of tossing and turning I got up and typed ten pages of notes taht I’d taken in three hours at Borders yesterday afternoon. So yeah anyways. We finished our com strat, and then I went to see KateH for the very last time at her current workplace and Cam called me Babe and I swooned and then I came home and slept for another four hours. This evening while I was watching some kind of wonderful, Clay came home very briefly to change his shirt and to bitch about Ben eating his food again (I’ve stuck signs up on the fridge and cupboards with this little ditty penned by Maree and typed by KateH “This is Joanna’s food – if you eat it you are rude – buy your own you lazy ass – you realyl have no class – love kate and Maz” and there’s a list of all my stuff he’s eaten that I want replaced stuck to to the TV, you can call this petty but it’s just fucking ridiculous, especially when his rent isn’t going through either). Anyways, what was I saying about Clay? Oh yeah, he was bitching, he changed, and he was out of the door before he was like “ohh whoops,” and so he came back to hug me, then left again. Heh.