i'm sick and i hate it
"For me, neither the honey nor the bee." -Sappho
Woke up this morning with a sandpaper throat and a pissy outlook on life. I think I've been feeling more sex-starved since I started reading erotic greek poetry for class. And looking at ancient vases decorated with pictures of orgies didn't really help. Then my roomate came in and got all comfy on my bed and started talking about how he misses having sex. That was after he scratched my head for a few minutes. But before that, two of my other male roomates were walking around topless showing off their new tattoos.
I am going to friggin explode.
I've already expounded lengthily on why it is impossible for me to get laid in Boulder, however, and I don't think I feel like going into the subject AGAIN. There comes a point, you know? Especially in a publically viewed live journal. Buncha voyeurs...
Last night I went up to the mountains with some friends. The sky was clear, and with the full moon, it was easy to walk around a bit. Beautiful. I sat on a painfully rocky boulder with the moon in my lap, staring out across the Boulder Valley. Everyone and everything looks better in moonlight, even my sexless life. It was good.
Again, some of my friends have no idea that mountains = colder, and didn't dress appropriately. Two of the chicks from the sticks wore skirts, and one wore those funky wrap-around pants that slit all the way up the sides. Very sexy, except when you're scraping your butt raw while scrambling up a boulder. I guess they were celebrating their femeninity for the full moon. Me, I just abstained from wearing underwear and figured Mother Moon Goddess would understand why I wasn't in anything prettier than a hoodie and jeans. Celestial beings know better.
I've also discovered that converses work really well for easy rock-climbing, FYI.
Woke up this morning with a sandpaper throat and a pissy outlook on life. I think I've been feeling more sex-starved since I started reading erotic greek poetry for class. And looking at ancient vases decorated with pictures of orgies didn't really help. Then my roomate came in and got all comfy on my bed and started talking about how he misses having sex. That was after he scratched my head for a few minutes. But before that, two of my other male roomates were walking around topless showing off their new tattoos.
I am going to friggin explode.
I've already expounded lengthily on why it is impossible for me to get laid in Boulder, however, and I don't think I feel like going into the subject AGAIN. There comes a point, you know? Especially in a publically viewed live journal. Buncha voyeurs...
Last night I went up to the mountains with some friends. The sky was clear, and with the full moon, it was easy to walk around a bit. Beautiful. I sat on a painfully rocky boulder with the moon in my lap, staring out across the Boulder Valley. Everyone and everything looks better in moonlight, even my sexless life. It was good.
Again, some of my friends have no idea that mountains = colder, and didn't dress appropriately. Two of the chicks from the sticks wore skirts, and one wore those funky wrap-around pants that slit all the way up the sides. Very sexy, except when you're scraping your butt raw while scrambling up a boulder. I guess they were celebrating their femeninity for the full moon. Me, I just abstained from wearing underwear and figured Mother Moon Goddess would understand why I wasn't in anything prettier than a hoodie and jeans. Celestial beings know better.
I've also discovered that converses work really well for easy rock-climbing, FYI.