This is just an update to let those who need to know, know what's going on if they dont read my livejournal.

Kenney and I are not a couple any more as of yesterday and rather than having to ring everyone and explain, or worse, one of us has to explain later when someone asks whre the other one is or whatever, I'm just posting so people know.

I know I dont use Xanga much any more but I still count you guys as friends so I'd like you to know from me rather than from the Rumourmill and all that bollocks.

Take care

Ju

It's been a while since I posted anything on here. Not quite sure why. Have wanted to think about state of mind before setting anything down on paper. Not that this is paper, but you understand.

The new heading of this weblog might seem a little bizarre to you guys out there. OK looking back at it, it seems a little strange to me too. But that's because I've not written it down before. ATTENTION: I am going to be talking about sex. Anyone who doesn't care, or will think "Ick! detail," or will take the piss out of me down the pub, please skip this post. Don't say I didn't warn you.

It all started on a dark and stormy night. Joke. No. it all started with Gerbil Rob. And how many people can say that, ho ho. Rob is a friend of mine who pointed out that since I have been single since November (and celibate since September due to boyfriend having lived miles away), and being a woman, and not just a woman but a woman who writes porn, I must therefore be "gagging for it."

Pause to slap Rob.

Pause to explain writing porn. My adopted brother and I are writing a Black Lace book, albeit very slowly as we are both crap, together. THIS IS NOT PORN! It's women's erotica. OK OK, it's porn by any other name, but it makes us feel all superior to call it by a longer word.

Pause to slap Rob again.

Right. I was a bit offended that Rob had said this. I was also not surprised that Rob had said this. It was only a matter of time as Rob makes jokes about sex a lot. So there you go. I could not seem to explain to Rob that no, I was not "gagging for it", because he would not believe me.

I like sex. I'm not afraid to say so. But I kind of have 3 different categories it falls under. There's having sex, there's fucking, and there's making love. I have only ever made love with two people. I have had sex with quite a few people. I'm not going to count it all up now. I've fucked when I felt like it. Fucking you can do with the same person as you make love with, or have sex with. But you can't have sex with someone that you make love to. Not in my mind. Others may see it differently. Fucking is Rah-I-want-you-now sex. making love is obvious due to the name of it. Having sex is neither. It's less emotional, more detached, less bothered about will-he-call-do-i-stay-over-what-if-he-regrets-it-in-the-morning. Hope I'm still making sense.

I do not want to make love any more, if I can't make love with the man I love. (Who left. See previous entries.) My sister pointed out, if you go out to buy a specific video, like Pirates of the Caribbean, and they dont have it in stock, do you then buy Lord of the Rings instead because it's there? (Yes if you're Meara, maybe no if you're anyone else.) Hence, I am in love with Justin, I do not want to be in love with anyone else, therefore I am not going to be in love with anyone else. Until I want to. And maybe I will never want to.

Equally I think oral sex is more intimate than regular sex. It's not something I've done with all my partners because of that. So I won't be doing that, either, until I am sleeping with someone who loves me and I love them. (If it's Justin, yay bonus, if it's not, then it's not. But if I am still in love with him, then I'm not going to be going down on anyone else.)

So. Problem. What if I still want to have sex? Which I do. St Ann of Summers and her jolly devices are all well and good but as with all DIY programmes (Laurence Llewellyn Bowen take note) it gets a bit boring.

I wondered the other day about joining an escort agency to work. Get taken out, look pretty, occasionally have sex with men who pay you for the privilege. And it's part time work. Top. However I feel I'd be hampered by the fact that I'm a size 16 and a bit overweight...but that might just be me doing my panic thing. Then again I'm not sure what requirements escort agencies have or whether there's a certain group of men on their books who only like slightly more "huggable" (well it's better than cuddlier) women. I guess thats a thing to look into.

Obviously I'm not talking about standing about on street corners here.

It may be a sex and the city moment but I think it's time for me to start having sex like a man, as they put it. Before all you outraged men inundate me with comments saying that you don't have meaningless, fun, no-strings-attached sex, I know its a stereotype. And yes I'm sorry a lot of women see men that way. But if I use the expression "having sex like a man" I hope you all now know what I mean and not assume I'm talking about anything grim.   

So. There's the explanation for the heading, bizarre as it might be. I am in love with one man, who is not in love with me. So I cannot make love or fuck with him when I want to. Therefore I have two choices. I could not have sex at all, which there is a little voice telling me to do if I want, but that could be very dull. As I've said I do like sex.

So the other thing is to have only unemotional, no-strings-attached, fun-when-you-both-want-it sex. I dont want a boyfriend (apart from the obvious.) I don't want commitment and I don't want a stalker. I don't want to fall in love with anyone new. If I feel anyone is getting attached to me I'll back right off. And I'll try not to hurt anybody by making sure there's no emotional feelings right at the start. If the anonymous He (whoever he might be) knows he doesnt want to go out with me, that's great. I want any man I might sleep with to know exactly where he stands. (Across the other side of the room, ho ho.) And equally I dont want either of us to feel threatened by the other party.

So that's it. I dont want a relationship but maybe I do want to have sex. Maybe.

I'll let you know how it turns out.

Marit xxx         

Just to show that poor Azhure isnt the only one with froopy dreams here's one I keep having and cant seem to get rid of, which is a bit of a cunt in my humble opinion.

Me and my Dad (who died in 1998) and my mum (who is still not dead, which is good) are living in Ireland at times of really heavy Protestant-Catholic fighting. Me and someone who looks a bit like my friend Bill have to escape from the rival gang that is chasing us (although I never know if we are Protestants or Cath's) Bill gets chased through a cemetery and gets lost and I run and hide in a grotty old outside loo. So, I hide and wait and finally when I come out Im in a really cool glitzy London/New York/Sex and the City style area with nice cars and clothes and stuff, and when I look back the outdoors loo is actually a really nice house that i have just come out of, and my dad is waiting by a limo to take me out. For some reason I know me and my family are all going out to dinner. So I get in and we go into town and Dad tells me he is really glad Justin (the guy who left me in November) has proposed (excuse me?!) and he'll be at the restaurant when we get there. When we get to the restaurant its been pulled down and a new one is there instead it is a steakhouse called Ianto's. (My friend Martin has a LARP character that he plays who is called Ianto.) We go in, in real life I notice my sister is missing, but in the dream it's not odd that she hasnt turned up.  My mum's complaining cos she doesnt like restaurants (she does in real life) and Justin turns up too but then disappears and me and my dad try to find him but we cant and then my dad goes missing too.

Just a little dreamy dream to weird you all out there and I hope its as amusing to read as the one Azhure had about Tim in a dress. 

Dont worry, I'm still moving away - just sorting out when.

That do?

Marit