Amazing vacation, doing everything I want to do. This week, hanging around CT, now in Northampton, my former home, staying with Frank. He is at work, I'm just so blessed to have an ex like him. Yesterday got my hair cut/ colored with Rhiannon. Today: river valley co-op, close my FSB account, maybe the hadley mall, etc. etc.
Next week: going to cleanse my apartment, read Marie Kondo, just prepare for 2017. Then, weekend workshop at Kripalu for New year's weekend. It's the first time ever that I have left town during New Years Eve. Strong statement. Nothing is more important than my spiritual grounding. No party or drinking too much.
Anxiety: that I don't have enough time. That I'm already too late. That I don't have enough time to do everything I want/ need to do.
Anxiety eases when I think: time is flexible. Time bends and flexes to accommodate me. There is enough time.
That I can change the narrative. It's all about the narrative I put onto something.
I was feeling so gross the other day, thinking about that half eaten hamburger I ate from off the ground. Well, goddammit, I was hungry, and there was nothing else to eat.
I can the change the narrative.
But to be honest, I did make a misstep the Friday night of Thanksgiving. Don't even want to talk about it. I feel like I just fell into a fucking man trap. The trap where he is crafty and just makes a series of "moves" toward the final prize: pussy. So anonymous. Could be any pussy. But mine was the fucking horny and deprived one. What was I seeking? Why him? I was seeking connection, I wanted to feel like I am still sexy, the faint prospect of becoming close to someone.
He didn't worship my body or take his time with me, but I kind of set the bar low and didn't demand more from him. I left thinking "Yay, I got some."... that wore off into a feeling of like embarrassment and shame, that I stooped so low just to get laid... the guy is not attractive to me. But after a few drinks whatever. And I guess that is a human feeling that other people have experienced.
I kind of hated myself for not honoring my sacred sexuality. As I usually do. Only want sex with connection. Even if that's a casual experience. It must feel meaningful to me. Even if just to get my rocks off. There is a way where the two polarities can co-exist. This night was not one of those times.
This was confirmed when this piece of shit was trolling for pussy at our faculty party... making a move on my colleague. She had to say "no" twice to him. When she alluded to her bisexuality and not being interested in men
I will not commit to being "celibate" now... like making a detox pledge or something... but as Jessica says, I not commit to "celebrate" my self. And if I need a roll in the hay I can certainly seek that and value myself at the same time. And I can decide that I am seeking partnership, and follow my intuition (like I didn't that night) that this person is probably not worth the 4 minute of this small dicked dude humping me (could hardly feel him inside me) into a condom, this dude who has a Great dane/pitbull mix, beautiful blue BMW, expensive suits and watches, nicely styled hair, all to cover up his small dick and not knowing how to make love to a woman. I'm dissing him, yes, no one will read this, but I know that in dissing him I am dissing myself, and this is my road to healing. And to deal with the anger I am experiencing toward him (bring it back to me, process it, and release it).
Good thing I came back to Noho yesterday to be made love to like I deserve! Looking forward to another night of that before I return home for Xmas. Thank you! What a voyage I have taken around the moon and back. talk to u soon, going to meet Dorin now at paul + elizabeths. (Her and Deb always want to go there because they both have such sensitive diets or are on a "cleanse". The friends I choose.
