Honest

60 days down, 30 to go.

So you want to know the truth about abstinence?

I thought it would be harder for me, given my proclivities.

I was sure I would suffer miserably.

But the truth is, it hasn’t been that hard.

No pun intended.

You see, I haven’t really been around temptation.

The Swede is in Sweden.

The Photographer cancelled on me twice.

And since no one else has asked me out. . . well, here I am two-thirds of the way through my committed abstinence period and I’m doing A-OK.

Oh sure, I’ve had fantasies about getting it on.

Who wouldn’t?

And I’m TOTALLY LOOKING FORWARD TO my abstinence coming to a close.

It’s been an interesting exercise.

But I learned one thing:

When sex is taken out of the equation, it’s easier to figure out who you want to spend your time with and who you don’t.

There are some people I just don’t want to hang out with when sex isn’t an option.

Meaning there’s no substance to the relationship.

Then there’s people I LOVE hanging out with – both men and women.

I’ve learned to cultivate those relationships more and let the other ones fall by the wayside easier.

I have to admit, rather sheepishly, I’ve also been kinda bitchier than usual, especially to men.

It’s not that I’m a ball buster, it’s just that I’m more tolerant of myself when I’m grumpy and less inclined to fake being in a good mood.

For example, I had a friend who cancelled on me due to illness.

When he called to reschedule, I was feeling cranky because I’d been cancelled on SEVERAL TIMES that week.

And so I said NO RESCHEDULE.

Normally, I would have MADE myself reschedule with him.

I can’t tell you how giddy it made me feel to just follow my mood and say no.

Bitchy?

Perhaps.

But honest.

Eating all the Swedish Fish

I am slowly, but SURELY, eating all the Swedish Fish I bought for the Swede.

I’m hoping that Murphy’s Law will be in full effect for me.

If I eat them all, then I will be unprepared for him to visit me in California and he will come.

If I don’t eat them, then his trip will be cancelled and I will have no visit with The Swede.

And I REALLY want to see him.

A while ago, he told me a story about kidnapping one of his friends for his bachelor’s party.

At the time, I thought that sounded TOTALLY NUTS.

Who KIDNAPS another person?

Then, months later, I’m watching a TV show called “Welcome to Sweden” and the two main characters are getting married.

Their friends throw them WILD bachelor and bachelorette parties, including – get this – KIDNAPPING THE GROOM!

These Swedes take these parties VERY SERIOUSLY, I guess!

So I text The Swede and I say to him that I thought he was a LITTLE crazy when he told me what he did but APPARENTLY THIS IS NORMAL IN SWEDEN.

At which time he replied, “You thought *I* was crazy?”

Point taken.

Between the two of us, I am the crazy one and I think we both know that.

Burning Man. SoulFire, UnSCruz. Pagan Bunny Burn. SF Decompression. Santa Con. Pilgrim Pub Crawl. Star Wars Whores.

I’m a wee bit on the fringes of society, running around in a Santa suit, tutus, and platform boots.

Whereas he is firmly ensconced in a suit and tie and quite respectable.

HOWEVER, he looks good bare-chested in a fur vest and Viking horns.

And I clean up nicely.

So maybe we’re more of a match than one would expect.

Maybe. . .

Foot in Mouth

So there I am, sipping a beer with a nice gentleman, chatting casually about Burning Man when he asked me a question.

I HEARD him ask, “So what’s was your favorite part of Burning Man?

My response?

The sex.

You just can’t save me from myself, can you?

He leaned in closer to me and asked, “Like sex on the beach?”

Wait!

What did you just ask me?

APPARENTLY, he asked me what was my favorite DRINK at Burning Man.

Oops!

So.

Now he knows that I’m a horn dog.

Also?

He knows I’m honest to a fault.

That must count for something!

Abstinence

Lately, my life has been a story of misfires.

I scheduled TWO dates with one guy and they BOTH got cancelled the day of.

And then there was another date where the guy told me he was too sick to show up 2 hours before we were supposed to meet.

Now he’s trying to reschedule, and I’m not feeling that generous.

The other guy?

The one who cancelled twice?

Well, he sent me a string a very sexy text messages which makes me think that if I DO reschedule with him, it better be after my abstinence stint is OVER.

I do not think I can trust him to not make a move.

Furthermore, I believe that if he does make a move, I will be helpless to resist.

Remember that I am voraciously hungry right now.

They say that the universe doesn’t give you want you WANT, it gives you what you NEED and right now, I guess I need to be alone.

No dates.

No temptation.

Just me and my solo act.

Ahem.

With the way the universe is working itself out for me, I wouldn’t be surprised if The Swede doesn’t make it to California in December.

Because he’s my loop hole.

My get out of jail card.

My hall pass lover.

I’m not attached to any outcome however.

I’m too old and I’ve learned too much to hold on tightly to what I want to have happen.

If it happens, nice.

If it doesn’t, too bad.

I believe in the wisdom of the universe and what it’s handing out to me right now is EXACTLY what I need.

Abstinence.

Swedish Fish

In my usual (neurotic) form, I went shopping on Amazon for The Swede.

Basically, I had nothing better to do but pretend I have a (Swedish) boyfriend to shop for.

Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, no?

Well, I basically don’t know very much about him.

I know he’s Swedish. I know he likes hockey. I know he likes fast cars. I know he likes spicy things.

I flashed back to the time when I STUPIDLY asked him if Swedish Fish really came from Sweden.

He stared at me blankly, answering my question without saying a word.

I found a really cool glass “California” ornament, to remind him of his time in California (and a certain smoldering blond he should like).

I found a vintage heathered blue tee shirt with the Swedish flag on it (but he probably has bunches of these).

I also found the HILARIOUS “Have No Fear The Swede Is Here” tee shirt, which I personally love and can just picture him wearing it when he arrives in California.

swedeThen I looked for hockey stuff, and I came across a Swedish Hockey ornament.

That went in the shopping cart.

But while I was shopping for Swedish hockey stuff, I came across the PERFECT tee for The Swede’s hockey-loving, goalie-playing daughter.

Then I woke up.

I do not have a Swedish boyfriend. His daughter doesn’t even know I exist.

It was fun to look but in the end, I emptied my cart. . .

. . .and bought the Swedish Fish.

Those things are GOOD!

Have no fear, the Swede is here

Genius that I am, I bought The Swede a bucket full of hot sauces, none of which are probably edible on a human level.

It was a respectable gift for a friend to give another friend.

EXCEPT that the shipping (FedEx) cost an outrageous $215.

Next time I should just write him a check for $300 and be done with it.

I totally would have skipped out on sending the present except that I PROMISED I was sending something so I HAD TO.

Tejas laughed at me and said I picked the most expensive service for transportation.

Huh.

Who knew (obviously not me), though I did point out that I went to USPS and UPS first.

Tejas told me I need to learn to use Amazon Sweden.

It’s not Amazon Sweden, it’s Global Amazon.

I actually DID look it up.

The problem is that lovely bucket of inedible hot sauce wasn’t available for shipping to Sweden.

Hence, my problem.

So I’ve been playing around with Global Amazon (any tips you have are appreciated) and I found THIS:

When I nicknamed The Swede “The Swede’ I wasn’t being particularly clever or bright.

It was just the most obvious choice.

However, I LOVE the idea of The Swede wearing this shirt in California.

Especially since he’s my excuse to GET OFF THIS FUCKING ABSTINENCE KICK EARLY!

Have no fear, the Swede is HERE!

Panty dropping

So there I am, minding my own business on Tinder. .

Yes, on Tinder.

I’m not having sex but I’m still dating.

In any case, I get a message from a guy called Larry.

Larry sends me a GIF.

It’s a GIF of a woman from the waist down.

She’s standing in high heels and wearing a short skirt.

All of a sudden, her panties drop to the floor and she steps out of them.

THIS IS HIS FIRST COMMUNICATION WITH ME.

O. M. G.

Why do I always get the sex perverts and fuckwits?

So I do the only thing I can think of.

I insult him.

I write back “Thanks for dropping your panties for me. While I don’t usually go for men who wear ladies underwear, I’m willing to give it a shot. Would you like to wear my red panties or my black panties?”

It was the most obnoxious thing I could think of saying in response to such a stupid opening “line.”

His response?

Classic.

He closed the connection.

Yes!

I’m finally doing something right!

Save

Halfway Mark

Just so you know, declaring a hiatus from sexual activity on your blog suddenly opens yourself up to all sorts of feedback on the subject.

A bunch of people laughed at the idea.

Until I told them I’d done it before. . .and succeeded.

Others jumped to my defense and claimed that there was nothing wrong with my level of sexual interest.

Others knew better and came out in support of a healthier lifestyle.

Regardless, it’s now become a topic of conversation between me, my friends, and my blog readers.

Can she do it?

Is someone going to come along to inspire her to break her vow?

What about The Swede?

What I have noticed is that there is a pool of males, mostly single, for whom I seem to exist solely to stroke their egos by sexting with them.

They are the ones who seem to be the most interested in seeing me break my vow.

They keep pulling me back into conversations I’m trying to resist having.

When you’re trying to walk the straight and narrow, it is counter productive to enter into a conversation about masturbation.

Or pornography.

But try as I might, sometimes I slip and carry on a full on conversation about topics I have no business talking about.

Then I suffer.

So yeah, it’s been 6 weeks. I’m halfway there.

And no, it’s not easy but I’m making it.

Dateable

It’s been a rough week.

Between realizing that I’m my own problem and taking a 90 day vow of celibacy, I’ve been pretty swamped with all sorts of feelings.

Remarkably, my friends have really come through for me.

Whether it’s Tejas getting the ingredients for my favorite cocktail (the Sazerac), Michelle writing the SWEETEST supportive note to me on Facebook, or Barbara actually calling me to make sure I’m okay, I’ve been blanketed in love from every direction.

Which has helped greatly as I try to wean myself off of casual sexual relationships.

The Photographer has come out in force to support my decision to be temporarily celibate.

He’s peppered me in Messenger with sweet comments about how to transition from someone no one wants to date but everyone wants to fuck into someone actually dateable (and still fuckable, natch).

I took the opportunity to tell The Swede that I liked him:

fullsizerender11.jpgYou may laugh, but it was a HUGE stretch for me.

And I think I pulled it off nicely, if I do say so myself.

Gentle flirting – 1, Michelle’s sex monster – 0.

When it’s good to fail

Y’all want to know how I’m doing?

The answer is JUST FINE.

No really, I feel better than I have in ages. My productivity at work and at home has gone up and I spend less time on my cell phone and more time socializing IRL.

So many people have offered to help me wean myself off of my sexual exploits, it’s uncanny!

There are a few people who think it’s a bad idea but for the most part I’ve met with nothing but support.

I have removed some apps from my phone – Tinder, Kik, and Zoosk.

I’ve been asked out on a few dates but I’m taking a little time to chill and not worry about dating anyone or meeting anyone.

Overall, I feel good.

Ask me in a couple of weeks and it may be a different story.

I did go out with a Frenchman about a week ago.

He was very sweet and romantic.

But at the end of the date, we stood up and I TOWERED over him.

After that, he didn’t walk me to my car, give me a kiss goodnight, or anything.

Still, I behaved myself and didn’t let on that I’m a freaky girl (besides freakishly tall in heels).

So despite the date’s failure, I consider the evening a success.

Woot!