Saturday, 29 January 2011


I have a sexy neighbour. I noted his hotness instantly which doesn't happen to me very often. I have seen him around in the past from a distance. We spoke briefly in the bike room yesterday. It was in the morning and we were both getting our bikes. He asked if I had far to cycle. I replied not at all which was why I was extremely late (and felt glad that I didn't look quite as scruffy as usual that day). I then asked him whether he had far to go and he said only to Kings Cross but he smiled when he could have looked outraged at the imposition.

This is not exactly flirtation but it is extremely friendly considering where we live. Our block is full of people who don't talk to each other. It's a transient rental population so nobody bothers. My handsome German neighbour could be living on any of three other floors. I don't even know his name although I think I could recognise his bike.
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Wednesday, 26 January 2011

A site visit to a swingers' club

The entrance to Fun For Swingers is obscured by the parked vehicles of the other businesses in the industrial estate. Then we see the LEDs spelling out its name in the blacked-out window. There's an A-frame sign outside too saying 'SWINGERS'. Jenny assures us that at weekends parking's not a problem and that in this area no one cares what you do.

"It's full of arty types," she says. I wonder if the arty types would welcome a local arty sexy party. Why are arty types so unhedonistic about sex?

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Sunday, 23 January 2011


It doesn't matter that the sight of Virgil getting pleasured by or fucking another woman turns me on; the thought that he might be right now having sex with someone without me makes me want to shout and throw things. I had a few moments like that yesterday afternoon and my eyes felt hot. Then I realised that there was a fair chance that his lunch with Hazel hadn't ended in bed. Virgil likes the seduction part of a fling and won't usually rush things. The uncertainty calmed me.

I wondered what it would be like to come home last night but my bad mood had gone by the time I walked through the door. Virgil was affectionate and solicitous. He didn't ask about how I had behaved earlier and I didn't ask about his lunch. We slept wrapped around each other and this morning made love.
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Saturday, 22 January 2011

Action stations

With the help of my sister-in-law and in recognition of the stew I am in about my career, I have been goal mapping. It works on the principle that you visualise the kind of life that you want to have and make a plan for how you're going to get there. Then by looking each morning at a self-made chart of pictures and words describing goals you set for yourself you basically reprogramme your brain and you're off. I am suspicious but curious and willing to try.

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I have my best thoughts on the move, rarely at my laptop. I consider starting a Twitter diary but the joy of that medium escapes me. I resolve to write a very little bit, every day, while things are fresh in my mind so let's start with this:

It's Saturday so I am about to go to work. I could be mistaken but I suspect that Virgil is getting ready for a date. He is meeting someone for lunch. He has shaved and washed his hair and is asking for his blue cardigan. A chance glimpse of his phone earlier told me that the lunch is with Hazel. We played with her a party not so long ago. Afterwards she expressed enthusiasm for another round. I like Hazel, who is an intellectual poly political type, but declined the invitation. She is pretty in a classical way, like an old English painting, a bit soft at the edges and is clever rather than sexy. I think my lack of interest might have been the green light for Virgil, who has a special thing for mostly lesbians. Hazel's poly credentials are impeccable at any rate. 

The private knowledge makes me grumpy and he is unsettled. He wants to know if he is being ignored. I say that I am simply thinking and (when pressed) that they are neither good nor bad thoughts, but that I don't need to discuss them. I am just busy. I half-heartedly wish him a nice day. He leaves. I stew at my laptop. 

I feel hateful but determined to sit this huff out without throwing things or saying anything I'll regret. I don't want to have a discussion about open relationships. I just want Virgil to go the fuck out and get on with it... and then I will see how I feel. The secrecy, if such as thing is possible when two people share a one-bedroom flat and iPhones display unopened text messages to catch the unguarded eye, is at my request. I'm still in favour of a 'don't ask don't tell policy', even if it's less evolved.

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Saturday, 8 January 2011


We had a horrible argument about sex today in which I found myself repeating things my ex said to me when we were arguing about sex.

Virgil lacks passion recently and I miss the kind of heated, anything-goes love we used to make. I don't understand why he can want to go down on me and not want me to reciprocate or to fuck. I couldn't stop myself, although I worry that my outburst was damaging and pointless. Virgil looked hurt, furious and somehow trapped.

Sex arguments with my ex punctuated much of our 3 1/2 year relationship. My lack of desire became the expression of my faltering affection. I am afraid that Virgil is falling out of love with me. I think I am probably experiencing the same feelings of futility and powerlessness that she felt.

How do people with problems with sex talk about them without compounding the situation?

I want to fall more in love, to be able to say that we are 'more in love than ever'. Instead I feel that we are loving on thin ice.
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Shit or get off the pot

Crashing desultoriness for weeks. I have not even been able to write it down.

Here are some of the New Year's resolutions I should make:

either commit to my work or stop doing it but end this moping about and indecision
therefore probably decide what kind of a new career I want to have
become more entrepreneurial and creative
find a new money job or end the need to have one
move house (and neighborhood)
stop ruining my relationship
stop complaining
blog more
eat better
have sex with more people
nuture friendships
try to care more about other people
babysit or social contact with at least one niece a week
phone my mum every week
plan my 40th birthday so-called celebrations
return to exercise
count my blessings more often
learn to knit

It's exhausting. This is why I don't make New Year's resolutions.
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