Sigh. There is a button that says "Yes, but not with you." That is what that conversation reminds me of.

Maybe some fucking would help.

Yet to hear the right talk about it, that's what everbody is saying.

Gaaah, those fuckwads have totally closed off the discussion. For fuck's sake, they're the dominant party for the last umpty years.

Wait, no -- that's "Go fuck yourself." It's close, though!

I don't know it that's really sex positive. But you are! So, I'll settle for that.

I think this is my most fuckful post on this board.

Hee. My friends are very "go get more sex! sex is good!" This may be why when I did an anonymous poll on LJ, the median number of partners was 10, as opposed to the government-tell-us FOUR (per a survey of women ages 30-44). Um.

In other news, severalmany months ago, I met this girl, at a bar. She introduced herself. She was HOTTTT. And I, uncharacteristically, was speechless. Was all "Uhhhh...hi". And I hadn't ever seen her again. So tonight, I mention that story to the friend I"m at dinner with. And we go out dancing. And who is there? HOTTT girl! But what is she doing? Making out with someone FUGLY. DAMN YOU, HOTTT GIRL!!

The HOTTT girl is craxy if she doesn't flirt up meara. Just saying.

It is 88 outside, 90 inside and it is TOO FUCKING HOT. Also too hot for fucking. Or breathing, really.

If I had a raft, I could go float in the pool. Or noodles.

down to 84 in a lot of the house

81 where the airconditioning was. Better

We watched The big Lebowski

what a fucking guy movie. Matt agrees with me. It wasn't bad, it might even have been good, but I don't ever want to see it again.

Fuck.

In conclusion, let's make out.

Um. Why?

t insert 2 posts of explanation

Thank you, Hil! That was very interesting. I'm sorry I never did get over to Israel (or Jordan) while I was in Egypt - I think it would be very interesting to visit.

So, I am A Good Girl. I've just spent an hour with my 90something (98, maybe?) year old next door neighbour, who is very impressively ambulatory still, but whose mind has finally started to go a little. (Sample conversation with my mother: "Oh, that's next door's cat." Mum looks down, sees our cat. "Um - it's my cat, Mrs Armstrong." "Is it, dear? It looks just like next door's." "!!!") She's still pretty fabulous, though, even though her memory is somewhat screwed. Later on I shall go to the Respite Home where my grandmother is staying. I've been visiting her while my parents are away - we're getting on fine, actually, which is nice. I'm glad that some untapped reservoir of kindness and patience apparently DOES lurk somewhere in the depths of me.

I have a newfound sympathy for my mother, who is being driven slowly batty by spending so much time with her mother and our next-door neighbour. My mother is very young and fabulous and shiny, and spending lots of time with old ladies is doing her head in a bit, in much the same way that spending the whole day looking after one's babies does (I understand). I hope they're having a good time in the Baltics.

We're up. We're moving. We're having coffee. We're gonna get Emily on the road.

Can I go back to bed yet??

Can I go back to bed yet??

Hells yes, woman! Go! Snooze!

Alas, I cannot go back to bed. Must do one more load of laundry for Emily (her sheets and jammies and morning towel and stuff) then help her pack the car, once she gets it from the rental company.

Crazy morning!

And then, of course, once she's gone, I must get packing my own stuff. Who thought this moving thing was a good idea???

Some of you may remember my friend, J, and some of the troubles she's had (with disappearing and whatnot). She's really come around and been very supportive lately. I woke up to a very sweet e-mail from her this morning, letting me know that she was thinking of me but didn't want to intrude with a call.

Oh, and she's taking me for a pedicure this afternoon. So nice!