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3 posts categorized "the orgasm diaries"

June 22, 2008

The Orgasm Diaries...cont'd

This is the third exciting installment. Yes, I'm being sarcastic because what unfolded this evening was incredibly silly, leading to the poignant question: wherever is my head (or my brain)?

I thought I'd snatch some 'me' time, and trotted to the bathroom with the pretty box that houses the Lelo Lily. Once I was in the bathroom, I lost track of the world outside, then decided to get cracking. After all, it had been a fortnight.

If orgasms were a sin to require a regular confessional visit, I would have been handed many Hail Marys for slipping up. I considered myself safe, going ahead with the routine: unwinding the cord, plugging it in, and preparing to lower my daggy blue flannel track pants. Then it doesn't work. What? I thought. Then I realized that I didn't charge the battery. All right, I'll put it to charge, make myself a tea, read the Sydney Morning Herald (that I missed reading in the morning), and I turned the doorknob - ignorant of the time (late in the evening) - to find my son outside.

"It's after midnight mum!"

"Um...yeah?" (Shit, must close the door so he doesn't see the sex toy charging on the bathroom vanity)

"And you know what it is," he grinned, as I put my brain on quick find to hit on an absurd nickname - 'stunned mullet' (because that was what I resembled).

"I do?"

"Age makes you forget," he said, laughing, "happy birthday!"

"Ahhh...." then I closed the door, told him that I had a secret stash of chocolate biscuits and that no, I wouldn't tell housemate that he stayed up past bedtime. "Thank you...another year older," I said with mock agony.

"I'll make you a tea," he said.
"Since it's my birthday...I'll meet you there."
"But you were just in the bathroom."
"I was tweezing my eyebrows."
"Oh."

Oh...but no big O.

mental note: put the Lily to charge today while we're at the Good Food and Wine Fair

May 06, 2008

An Orgasm Diary? II

I guess I should be chuffed about the fact that I have months where I'm none the wiser about the impending red sea that will unleash. There are no cramps, or other telltale signs: headaches, lower back aches, or grumpiness. Before I know it, I'm awash in a sea of crimson, and I think, 'oh shit, I've run out of tampons!' to settle for the surfboard until I replenish the Libra tampons, to find that my local supermarket has run out of the 'super' brand, for me to be given the choice of 'regular' which is about as absorbent as a Q-tip.

No one talks about the first day. No, not the first day God created the world in Genesis, but the first day of period flow, and how much of a juggernaut it can be, making any attempt at a self made orgasm a headache.

Is there such a thing as Murphy's Law where orgasms are concerned?

May 04, 2008

An Orgasm Diary?

Lately, I’ve thought  of beginning an orgasm diary. There are many reasons for this, but the king of them all relates to Zoloft and how it alters the daily routine. Perhaps it reshuffles thoughts, and in so doing, alters priority or the concept of priority within a person.

Take last evening as an example. I had some time to spare, after dinner, doing the dishes, reading a few submissions, and showering, and I did consider having some ‘me’ time or ‘happy time,’ and when my head sank in the plump pillow, I thought ‘ahh this is nice,’ and I closed my eyes. I coasted along, snug and warm beneath the duvet, and relished the parent-break that arrives when children are briefly out of the picture.

I fell asleep.

No orgasm for me.

My hands didn’t even have time to do the walking…

I would be hard pressed to give the exact number of days without so much as a big O, but I wouldn’t be fibbing if I gave an estimate of 7 to 10 days; I have lost count. It’s not as though I’m incapable of orgasming, but I do get sidetracked.

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