Andare, Partire, Tornare


Bridget Genibee's Diary

Got my first google hits! *squeal* Granted, they're not very exciting - one on "quilting diary" and one on "James Bond Villain Personality Test", but they're my very first, and my very own. I couldn't be prouder.

Saw "Moulin Rouge" last night, and love it loved it loved it. I'm a fan of the director, ever since "Strictly Ballroom," so I knew that the odds were good that I'd enjoy it. Who knew that beyond excess, beyond cheese, beyond cringing - lies beauty and truth? Or, at least, a very touching fairy tale. I *heart* Ewan McGregor. Which brings me to the discussion Bemo and I had the other night, lying in bed. It was the list of "gimmies" - if they approached you in a bar and demanded wild sex, you got a free pass. His list was pretty ecclectic, as was mine, I suppose. Both our ours rapidly went past the Top 10, into Top 14 and counting. Guess it's lucky that neither of us is exactly star-bait.

People who don't want to hear about my sex life, avert your eyes now, please. I'm going to rant a bit and I don't feel much like being discrete, for some reason.

It's funny. I think, in a lot of ways our marriage is pretty damn ideal. But I swear to god, I have so many freaking fantasies about other men, that it can keep me occupied during an entire work day. I don't regret marrying Bemo, or even particularly marrying young, but I do wish I had been a little more sexually experienced before Bemo. Aside from a few ill-advised relationships with guys met over the Internet (and one cool one that would have been great if he hasn't lived in UTAH), a relationship with a Norse God who was lovely to fool around with but a terrible conversationalist, and the clumsy attempted seduction a roommate attempted on me because he didn't have anybody else lined up for that evening, I have had no normal boyfriends. No dates to prom (I went with a friend, and it was a horrible evening), no school dances, no double-dating or group dates, or what have you. So with the relationships I did have, they were mostly brief, with the guy looking for all the sex he could because he'd be flying out the next day. (Makes me sound like a port of call girl, and I suppose it wasn't too far from it. So instead of sex, because I did have the clarity to realize I didn't want to boff some guy without being prepared, I became the mistress of the Deferring Blowjob, where I could, excuse the expression, get the guy off my back by giving him what he wanted (an orgasm) without having to actually have sex with him. Consequently, Bemo was my first, and only partner. And I'm wishing that wasn't so. Not because of Bemo's skills in or out of bed, but because I just feel like I should have gotten some other experiences along the line.

Now, people I know who have sowed their wild oats have told me that I'm not missing all that much. But gosh and golly, I'm not talking about orgies on the level of Imperial Rome, or even the most basic porno movie. I just want to know what this fun, wonderful sensation feels like with other people. Well, other guys, although the whole girl thing does intriegue me. (I suspect women are far more open to girl/girl sex than guys are to gay sex - in fact, it's probably a given) Sex is such a nice thing. I've always been a bit baffled by people who condem it when it seems like such a joyful thing to do.

And part of this is that I'm just bitter that I never dated in high school because I apparently was keeper of a variant of the Invisibility Cloak that would have had guys ignore me even if I were dancing topless on the lunchroom table with those school lunch pizzas acting as pasties. And damn it, I wasn't that fat then. I just have always been a social retard, and men sense that like sharks smell blood. So now that I'm much more confident - I'm married. Way to plan ahead!

Ok, I'm going to bring this to an end. I'm probably just in this mood because I haven't gotten laid in a while, due to a busy schedule and both parties being sick, one right after the other. And great cluny frog, I just realized that my baby sister reads this, so I will no doubt get an...interesting email from her in the near future. Well, fuck the what. That's what a diary is for, eh?

9:35 p.m. - 2001-12-29


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