Thursday, 14 March 2013

Pet hate #24

A week post-wheat. I continue to feel more energetic, happier and alert. My stomach is more apple-like than of football proportions. I'd like to say my guts are perfect but they're not. However, my vagina is definitely happier and I haven't used Canesten since I stopped the wheat. I'm not sure it was helping anyway. I think I had irritation rather than a yeast infection. After all, thrush isn't the only thing that can cause genitals to feel bad.

Which reminds me of something I detest: It's that depressing moment when you have to buy a fresh tube of Canesten. The shop assistant (often a young man with fluff on his lip) asks: 'Have you used this before?' because it's in his training. And feeling a hundred years old and smarting from the unfairness of it all, you reply: 'Yes I have, thank you for asking.'

It occurs to me that there is so much about sex that isn't sexy, but I digress.

Now that my vagina is feeling better I am thinking about having sex again. I'm also thinking about taking a well-deserved break and some responsible hedonism. Since the beginning of this year I have taken good care of my body. The strongest stimulant in my repertoire is coffee and I can't remember when I was last awake past 1am.

A small voice warns me about undoing all the good I have done, but I sense it is soon to be overruled by the rest of me.


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Saturday, 9 March 2013

Wheat poisoning

I've got brain fog. Brain fog is what it sounds like and I'm blaming it on my new intolerance, sensitivity or allergy (whatever you want to call it) to wheat. It explains why I can hardly think, barely construct a sentence and why even getting out of bed this week has seemed like a huge pain. I'm also in a terrible mood. People annoy me even more than usual and that's saying something.

Can this all really be wheat? Apparently it can. Symptoms of wheat allergy include exhaustion, bloating, mood swings (check, check, check) and even itchy eyes (check!). Ok, thrush is not up there at the top of the list but I know from past experience that there's a connection. Now I just have to stop eating wheat (check - day two already) and sit it out.

I'm relieved to have a reason. In fact, my mood must have improved slightly because I write to Jay in a warm, news-y way and decide not to worry too much about it. I think it'll be fine.
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Friday, 8 March 2013

Griping

The after-effects of seeing Jay are like a comedown from drugs. Just after I see him I think about him all the time, can't wait to see him again, wank alot and things like that. There's a half-life to this effect. Now, more than two weeks since our last date was cut short by his annoying flatmate I'm not feeling much.

This is a lot to do with his lack of communication. I tell myself that I shouldn't analyse this in his absence. He's not a great letter writer... texter, Facebooker etc. Not knowing Jay very well I don't feel confident enough to say that he finds writing difficult. Perhaps he just doesn't have much to say.

I wish Jay did have more to say though. What I'd really like is a text or picture message every few days, a token to show that he's thinking of me even while having fun and being busy away. I wish I could take back my wasted thoughts. Other than daydream about Jay, the only thing I've done lots of these last weeks is to read Game of Thrones - itself no more than a form of extreme escapism as I have already seen the television series.

The message that finally came went along the lines of:
Hello, how are you? I've been having a great holiday :) Now something I already told you twice already. Now something that shows I have not read your message properly. I'm going to be away a bit longer than I thought  :( I'll call you when I'm back in town. x
It's not awful. I can see that. It could be worse. We didn't have an agreement that he would write/call/text me x number of times, and it's not like we're boyfriend-girlfriend. But I would have liked something a bit more heartfelt than a sad face, an indication that he is impatient to see me too. Why can't we set a date to meet before he gets back to the city? 

Which is why I haven't replied yet. Anything I wrote now would be querulous and passive aggressive. I hate that. I also like the idea of keeping him waiting, as he kept me waiting. I hope he's checking his inbox more often than usual and wondering why I haven't written back yet.

Instead I complain to Virgil. I tell him that while Jay doesn't tick some important boxes he still has some major attractions and I feel emotionally involved. I also admit to being invested in it working because I need something like this. (Or at least, have felt emotionally involved and now feel like blowing it off.) That's called not having a shopping list, says Virgil. I say not trying to make someone meet all your needs is a nice thing about open relationships. Virgil comforts me and points out how nice it is that I can come to him for support in this way.

I say, 'Well, to a point, but the truth is that in an open relationship there just isn't the same degree of support. You might be supporting me now but tonight you're going on a date with Sarah and I feel rubbish about that. And I've utterly fucking had it with not having sex, not going out, not drinking and not eating sugar.'

Unfortunately with all this uncertainty and angst I have regressed in the jealousy stakes. I feel like punching Sarah in her peanut face now. Like really punching so that her head flies back and she says 'Oof'. Then I think about how upsetting that would be for her and the urge subsides a bit but not entirely.

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Wantiness

I am disillusioned and down. A long-awaited message from Jay is disappointing in its brevity and lack of... something. I haven't written back yet although it's been three days. I feel too depressed. I've got a yeast infection that I can't shift and have been diagnosed with a wheat allergy. Ho hum. More stuff I can't have. At least giving up wheat might help the infection.

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Wednesday, 6 March 2013

Equivocal about HIV

I had a bit of an HIV scare last year. This is what happened: Virgil and I went along to the local STD clinic for a regular check-up. Two weeks later I started to think about calling up for the results, but then a man called Nigel from the clinic phoned.

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Monday, 4 March 2013

A productive morning

This is what got me out of bed this morning... tearing off the sheets before the mattress got totally soaked, but not before I took a picture:



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Friday, 1 March 2013

Lateness and discretion

If only one could be honest about these things. "I'm sorry I'm 20 minutes late," I would say, arriving for a shift at the scandalous rag: "I was masturbating. I just couldn't leave the house until I'd had two orgasms, and then I was ruined for about five minutes."

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