The Over-Educated Nympho

Today in my department was annual review day, which coincidentally is known as RAI$E DAY. At least that’s how it is known in my cubicle.

I entered The Partner’s office for my review first thing this morning. I brought my big cup of coffee and hoped that it wasn’t too obvious that I was trying not to think about the sex I did not have last night. Many people have told me I can’t lie worth a shit because my eyes give me away. Stupid STUPID eyes. I’d poke them if hadn’t already done a Clockwork Orange number on them.

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I left him in the restaurant parking lot with a kiss. A very long wet kiss. I’m trying a new approach: leave him wanting more.

I want to enjoy being chased for once.

I’m about to leave to meet my blind date. From what little we spoke on the phone, he sounds cool and friendly. Wish me luck for a smokin’ hot night–

For a while now Handsome Twosome has been saying he has a friend he wants me to meet–someone who could become my own special friend. Today I called up Handsome Twosome and politely demanded that we go on that long over-due blind date. I was very proud of myself for not screaming into the phone IT’S BEEN NEARLY SEVEN MONTHS. MY VIRGINITY IS GROWING BACK.

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Now that stress from my silly day job has died down and I’ve finished my taxes, I can rejoice in the many great writing opportunities that have come my way over the last few weeks. You may have noticed some new links in the sidebar lately, which represent two new sites I’m writing for and a book I’m reviewing:

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I don’t know if it’s that I’m overworked, underfucked, or just good ol’ fashioned pissy, but many people have been telling me lately that I need a vacation. I agree.

It’s time to travel. I need the touch of foreign land on my fingertips, the language of foreign tongues in my ear. I need to remember what else is out there.

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It is always awkward to watch anything sexual on tv with my parents, but it’s hard to avoid unless the only thing you watch is The Cosby Show. It doesn’t matter if it’s a joke, two people kissing, or a full-on sex scene, my ears turn bright red and I stare up at the ceiling.

It has been this way since I was ten. Back then it was because oh my god the lady on tv just said the word penis IN FRONT OF MY PARENTS. Now it is more out of horror that my mother may have to ask me what a t-bag is, or worse–that she may already know what it is. Or what if–shudders–she not only knows what it is they’re talking about on tv, but has actually done it?

The whole realm of sex becomes mortifying. My mother is not allowed to know what double-dildos are for.

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I’m leaving town shortly to go visit the family for Easter. I may not be churchy, and my parents don’t go on any day other than Christmas, but we do all like to use any excuse to sit around on the patio and eat huge chocolate bunnies. This year I will especially enjoy devouring the head off my chocolate bunny, and then once I’m done I may eat the heads off all other unsuspecting bunnies in the house. See? EASY TO KILL THE FUCKING BUNNY.

In other words, he never returned my call. A-hole. I hope the creepy rabbit from Donnie Darko haunts him in his sleep.

kisses!!
Happy Easter, be back Sunday night.

As planned, today during my lunch hour Barbie and I went for hamburgers and a side of naked man. Dr. Smartypants was able to join us at the last minute, which only made me more nervous. Am I so hopeless that Barbie needed reinforcements?

I decided to write today’s post in the form of a quiz like what you’d find in a woman’s magazine (except, well, funny) so you can take a guess at how PROJECT: GET SOME ASS went this afternoon and then tally your score at the end. Consider it an attempt at vicariously enjoying the Fuck Yes/Fuck No game.

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Being the wonderful friend and wingwoman that she is, my friend Barbie has generously offered to go to lunch with me tomorrow at the secret mecca of men, the hamburger joint I wrote about in this Triad post.

With Barbie at my side instead of a married/male coworker, I have no excuse not to hit on one of the many young hot guys I saw at this particular restaurant. Now that that reality has set in, I’ve developed a case of the oh shits. I don’t remember how to flirt. Actually, I’m not sure I was ever that good at flirting.

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Another person I know just got engaged. Since all my friends are married or engaged, the irony has expanded to include coworkers. Actually, he’s not even a real coworker. He was the SUMMER INTERN. The freaking summer intern hasn’t finished college yet and he’s engaged. And you know what? I believe that they will live happily ever after. I met the intern and his now-fiancee at an office party and they were as cute as a box of babies. Yada yada, yay for them.

I JUST WANT TO GET LAID.

Okay, that was kind of irrelevant. I don’t care. If I’m going to be the cheese who stands alone I’d at least like the promise of some really hot guy eating me with a nice glass of wine.

Today I gave a presentation as part of the management training program that I had been avoiding for several months. Why had I been avoiding this particular unit? It’s the hardest one, the most boring one, and I have minimal experience in it to begin with. The motivation wasn’t there until I was staring at a blank Powerpoint screen on Friday night and realized I was about to be fucked. Two days, four pots of coffee, eighteen non-billable hours, and one cranky bitch later it was over.

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