Thursday, March 11, 2004

Daddy, don't read this entry.

My body hurts more now after taking a day off from class than it did yesterday. Hmph! Maybe going tonight will help. Or maybe Tylenol Back & Body will help. The things I do to become a better ass kicker.

Bon Jovi is currently edging out Aerosmith on my iPod. I keep feeling an overwhelming need to make my hair big and my lashes thick and crusty and my lids blue each morning. Ah, the good ole days. That will never happen though as it takes an hour and a can of Aqua Net to get my hair big in the mornings and I just cannot be bothered to do that these days. I get ready in about 15 minutes in the morning now and I like it. Though with the email and the TiVo it actually takes about 45 minutes to get me out of my apartment. It's the showering at night that helps with the speedy prep time. And speaking of my showering habits...

I was out with Muffy & Steph the other day and some reference to me showering at night came up. Steph is all, "I know your showering habits." And then some reference is made shortly after about my freakish need for my bra and undies to match each other as well as to match my outfit. And then he asks me if I like olives. And that just sorta cracked me up. That he knows about my shower habits & my underwear but not if I'm an olive person or not. Just makes me think about what people share about themselves and what sticks in people's minds. Obviously underwear is more exciting than olives (in most cases) and the matching thing is a quirk of mine that I'm not shy about. But it amuses me.

It also makes me think of how often people claim (not actually to my face in most cases) that I talk about sex all the time. It used to bother me and make me think I'm a bit of a skank or something, but now I figure it's more their issue than mine. Sex is awesome and I'm a big fan, but I actually have other interests. I know I've bored people silly with chat about Aerosmith and Taekwon Do. I dig Duran Duran and truly believe Walt Disney World is the happiest place on earth and love the movie Bring it On and can lecture on it's status as the greatest movie of 2000 for hours and hours. I dig my little Beyonce and her mad math skills. I love TiVo beyond reason and don't even get me started on television shows I adore like Silk Stalkings and Charlie's Angels and Gilmore Girls and such. I read all kinds of things that I love talking about or forcing upon others. Bitching about work could be neverending with me if I was allowed. But none of that is all that exciting. Sex is. And I'm not really cowed by the topic. It doesn't make me giggle and hide my face (unless you're trying to pry specific personal details outta me). I'm happy to be frank and honest about it (unless you're trying to pry specific personal details outta me) and very few things shock me about the topic at this point (unless you're trying to pry specific personal details outta me). I dig porn and I'm bi and I know my way around a toy store and so on. Which is apparently 'spicy'. So that seems to be what people remember about conversations with me. I think some friends of a friend used to call me porn girl and only want to talk about that on the few occasions when we'd meet. Because sex is a topic that people like to dish on. 'Cause if you aren't getting it right that second you might as well talk about it.

So, I think folks just remember that they had this conversation with me that wasn't typical. Or that we talked about a fun aspect of sex at a party. Or played some horrible drinking game where it came up a lot. And it was way more interesting than the previous hour long coversation on the various good and bad hairstyles of the seven seasons of Buffy, so that's what they remember. Or maybe they're just so uptight about the topic that all they can remember is that I wasn't uptight so I must be a ho. Or maybe they think I'm awesome and just want to sleep with me and think it's cool that they got to talk about being nekkid with me. I don't know. But I now figure it's most likely one of those things or something like it and not actually that I talk about sex nonstop.

And if y'all start leaving little comments saying otherwise, we're going to rumble.

Jon Bon Jovi would now like to tell me how he'd die for me so I'll have to write more later. Sorry.

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