"I think that for some people-certainly for myself-sex is like a drug. All you want to do is get higher and higher and crazier and crazier. It just feels so good to be in it, to be completely intoxicated by another human being, that I’m inclined to just push it and push it until it explodes."

            The first thing I was told by two of the English teachers at St. Georges was, “Teaching isn’t what you think it is.”  They told me teaching was only about 25% actual teaching, and the rest is…  Well, I guess the rest is some combination of lesson planning, grading, disciplining, counseling, and more stuff that sort of seemed like a “you ( Read more... )

The past few weeks have been a mofuckin' crazy train of couch surfing and soul searching.  Andrew and I broke up the Tuesday after I got home from the conference; both of us took it really hard.  There were lots of tears and confusion and general reeling from the shock of such a big change really starting to settle in.  Ripping myself away from him ( Read more... )

... I want to be an English teacher.

Yeah, I said it.

Back in the day, a group of us used to be the rattiest of mall rats.  There we were, every Friday night, all decked out in the most heinous outfits, walking up and down and around the place, hanging out outside the movie theatre, flocking into Hot-goddamn-Topic when they built it in the food court.  Those were the most un-self-conscious days of my ( Read more... )

It feels so incredible.  This is a world I know.  Sir amazes every day.

I did it.  I went to a munch.  I couldn't go to the party afterward because it would not have been financially responsible (homegirl can't go throwin' twenties every which way like they're nothing, damnit, that's like a week of carefully selected groceries), but the few people I met at the munch were so wonderful and welcoming and nice that my ( Read more... )

I have got to get over whatever stupid fucking moron fear I have of going out and meeting people.  Events for kinky people my age are happening all the goddamn time, and yet I continue to be a scared shit and stay inside.  Homegirl needs some goddamn friends because no friends is not working.  When did I lose every.single.part of my ridiculous, ( Read more... )

I often think about God.  I am not and likely will never (but who knows, to be fair) be a religious person.  Maybe my taste was tainted by Catholic school, an overbearing grandmother, a mother who momentarily dipped into the insanity of fundamentalism.  Or maybe, in the exposure I had to religious life as a kid (that is to say, heavy on the ( Read more... )

I wonder if I will ever be able to drop the bullshit that is my regular mental space.  Kind of depression?  Kind of anxiety?  Kind of confusion/ angst/ low self-esteem/ paralyzing fear of movement and change, from which springs the bald horror of failure?

I want to delete that.  But, you know.  Journal.

This isn't the best way of thinking, but I wish ( Read more... )