You know, I should just face reality and admit that I’m blogging about my imaginary sex life in the hope that one materializes at some point. Almost all of these posts are about boys, and in most cases, it’s new boys.
Like last night, when I got home from the laundromat, I had a text from one of the boys. Oh, what’s his name going to be? Grammar. Yes, Grammar. Anyway, we texted back and forth. Johnny assures me he’s showing interest through his actions. I can’t tell, personally, if he’s trying to be funny and it’s coming off as a bit annoying, or if he’s annoying and that’s all. I’m hoping for the former, because that’s kinda sweet. For example, he texted (yes, texted) to complain that “texted” is not a word. Bullshit it’s not. “You texted me first” is a completely legitimate sentence. I even checked with Woodstock to make sure! Then the next text said that he thought I was hot and he wanted to “do things” to me. Tonight, he texted me a bit, and it sounded kinda like an offer for dinner, but I’m not really sure. This dating thing is NOT easy!!
Then as a nice afternoon surprise, NJ emailed me at the other writing site. He’s such a tasty, cunning linguist. And then he sent me a pile of dirty texts, and now, because it’s the week before the week, all I can think about is getting laid. Now. Is that really too much to ask? Just a little sex?
Still talking to Fireman2. He’s sweet, very nice, single dad. I’m not sure what’s going on here… I think we’re just friends. I’m okay with that; there’s no such thing as too many friends.
Oh, and T.? I emailed the Big Guy back. Which reminds me, I should go and reply to his newest.
