Pity Party

A couple of short things.

Yahoo is still messing up. It like to refer to me by the nickname associated with this blog even though I've done my best to get rid of that connection. Some certain fellow yahoo-ers have noticed the name. Reason tells me they've probably found the blog but are biding their time to see what I write. Well, fuck 'em anyway, I say. Not much more outing can be done to me, I think. And even if there were a big risk.. I move in a very few short months. So whatever.

On the other hand... I don't need to freakin' INVITE it. So I changed my blogging name, republished the whole thing and removed the blog from showing up on my "profile." Which pretty effectively tells google NOT to spider me. This is good.

So what IS going on? Trian's suddenly turning into this sex fiend, veering away from the depressed and more into the "normal" world I'm used to seeing divorcing people in. While I don't celebrate his impending divorce, I do celebrate the fact that he appears to have finally accepted the rightness of the action. Whether his new-found sluttishness will help him heal, I can't say. Nor can I decide if I really want anything to do with that. There have been times my interest has been piqued, but I mostly require attention and flirting in order to keep that interest piqued. Without it... nothing.

Which brings me to the fact that I almost never see Sam anymore. It's hard to lust after someone I'm seeing like... once a month. Which I guess is okay since I'm moving. I certainly don't need to add that to my pile of lusty-regrets when I move.

I haven't heard much from my "chickens" lately. My most likely candidate is still away, near as I can tell. But maybe that's okay. My interest in him has cooled a little in the few days he's been gone. More of that "how can I lust after you if you're not around?" syndrome, maybe. Or the reality of the fact that dude's married and cheating. Or the fact that his AFF profile is short, concise, and has absolutely nothing to do with me. In fact, I'm the opposite of what he professes to want and it's hard to feel sexy when I'm not really his type.

It really makes me miss Frank, in that way. I still maintain that he's a bad man and not someone I need in my life.... but he made me feel beautiful and sexy. Whether he meant it or not, he never allowed me to doubt that he wanted to see me naked. That was fucking HOT. Being wanted is a powerful drug, and much of the reason I adored him. The way he made me feel.

And Keith, too. Delicious Keith. I'd much rather have him.

Instead, I don't get anybody.