more evidence to support my theory...
...that Boulder is an alternate dimension: Today there was a snowdayat Naropa- something that has not happened all year, even in December when we'd wake up to eight inches of snow and ice-covered roads. Last night it snowed six or so inches, and by the time I was up this morning, it was all melting and the roads were perfectly clear. I SAT OUT IN THE SUN AND SANG KIMYA DAWSON SONGS WITH NEIRBOBUG FOR TWO HOURS! My knees got tan from the holes in my jeans.
Tell me this doesn't support my theory. Yeah, go on and tell me.
I've been reading super-erotic novels and short stories lately, and writing love letters than I plan on never sending. I've become the damn Romantic Fool that I never wanted to be. Spring is doing weird things to my sexual organs and my brain, melding the two into one horny animal that wants to do nothing but climb trees and then have sex in 'em. Meh. I'm enjoying it. My libido is out of control, but nothing too new there, after this year's months and months of forced chastity (I didn't really have much alternative, though not for lack of trying). A friend of mine invited me to go dildo shopping, and maybe I should take her up on that. Apparently, she got hers for only twenty bucks cuz it was in a color they were discontinuing. I think that sounds like an excellent investment.
Actually, the longer I stay in Boulder, the more I'm convinced I'd become a lesbian here. I cannot make any kind of meaningful erotic connection with a male here. Girls, yes. Guys, nope. They're all too focused on their damn spiritual goals and paths and practice and mindfulness to suffer so much as a one night stand. And when they do, they revert back to 8th grade antics so the only thing you ever want to do is throw a meditation cushion at them. Or they go in the opposite direction and are womanizing bastards. Or they already have girlfriends. Crap! This was not meant to be another stupid sex rant. Ah well. If you see me wearing a rainbow flag pinned to my ass this time next year, you'll know what's happened.
Tell me this doesn't support my theory. Yeah, go on and tell me.
I've been reading super-erotic novels and short stories lately, and writing love letters than I plan on never sending. I've become the damn Romantic Fool that I never wanted to be. Spring is doing weird things to my sexual organs and my brain, melding the two into one horny animal that wants to do nothing but climb trees and then have sex in 'em. Meh. I'm enjoying it. My libido is out of control, but nothing too new there, after this year's months and months of forced chastity (I didn't really have much alternative, though not for lack of trying). A friend of mine invited me to go dildo shopping, and maybe I should take her up on that. Apparently, she got hers for only twenty bucks cuz it was in a color they were discontinuing. I think that sounds like an excellent investment.
Actually, the longer I stay in Boulder, the more I'm convinced I'd become a lesbian here. I cannot make any kind of meaningful erotic connection with a male here. Girls, yes. Guys, nope. They're all too focused on their damn spiritual goals and paths and practice and mindfulness to suffer so much as a one night stand. And when they do, they revert back to 8th grade antics so the only thing you ever want to do is throw a meditation cushion at them. Or they go in the opposite direction and are womanizing bastards. Or they already have girlfriends. Crap! This was not meant to be another stupid sex rant. Ah well. If you see me wearing a rainbow flag pinned to my ass this time next year, you'll know what's happened.