This one's gonna be full of random thoughts and whatnot, so I apologize for the lack of coherence in advance. Have fun! :)

Today has been very weird for emotions. I don't even know how to chart them, but I've gone from feeling unsettled and restless and weird and possibly jealous to wanting to cry and various loops in between.

The ex- was telling me about having had his girlfriend down in our little neck of the woods, and having her to local eateries and up to his cottage, and a part of me was thinking, "This is my city," and wanting to ask if he and her (he and she?) were having clandestine sex the way he and I used to, sneaking it when his parents were out or mine were out, things like that. And y'know what? It bothered me. I didn't ask, 'cause I was pretty certain he wouldn't take the question well (since most times when we talk now it's pretty short and bleh), and I just felt unsettled and weird. It's not that I want him back for myself or anything like that, but... I don't know. I felt weird. I think it wouldn't have bothered me so much if I wasn't feeling so fneh to begin with, but even now with him saying that his relationship with her seems to have settled and he's not out looking all the time (which he was before, I think I detailed it here ages ago), it's just... it's like something I don't want to hear, but not out of jealousy or anything. I don't feel resentment exactly; maybe it's some minor envy because he has so many advantages that I don't have and life just isn't being unkind to him. I mean, Christ; I only wish someone would bankroll me a year of living on my own, and I could feel free to add extra years to my degree and take one course a semester and only apply to one place for a job and then just wait to see what happens. I'd love to have a place of my own, or with roommates, and have my boyfriend over any time I wanted and not have to worry about my folks or his folks happening home when we're having sex or feeling cuddly or whatever. Argh. Life sucks. :P

I was tired for the better part of today; I was up later than intended writing my paper, then I had to get up early for my midterm, which I never really got to study for. I think I did okay; I managed to bring some of the Socrates' Rhetoric readings that I did for Theories into the midterm, so we'll see if the prof is impressed or turned off by my attempt to appear intelligent. :) I also turned in the paper, and fell asleep for a minute or two at time in Theories, and I was right under the prof's nose, so we'll see if my marks reflect the fact that Wednesdays are my longest days and Theories is boring. :P

I asked one of the list maintainers to unsubscribe me back on Friday or Saturday, and he told me Tuesday that he had. I sent a message to the list explaining that I'd unsubscribed, and that I would still try to turn up at the odd events, and maybe reappear on the list at some point later. J sent me an email asking why I'd done it, that now I'd be missing out on all his insulting emails that he sends. It was weird to hear from him, because I've been trying to message him through ICQ and I don't know if he's ignoring my messages or that he now hates me or what (one suspicion). I called him this evening from my cell, on both his home and cell lines, and the first two times I tried each, they were busy -- so I thought that he'd blocked my number and I was hurt. I tried his home number again a bit later and it rang, but he didn't answer so I just hung up. I have vague ideas of what I want to say, but nothing concrete.

I got my hair cut last night, and it's back to being its regular flat, headphone-smushed stupid self today. Big surprise; I could have hair down to my shoulders, chop it off to an inch in length, and it would somehow manage to look the same, just a bit shorter, the day after it's done. :P Anyhow, it's shorter and it feels like it has more body, although that may just be residual hair spray and various other affixations, even though I washed it twice this morning.

But getting the hair cut got me to thinking about an article I'd read once. It stated that we pay people to touch us, in a professional manner, but touch us nonetheless because we are a low-context society (go communications learnings!) and do not touch each other in casual ways. This means that one of our basic human needs, the need for touch, gets satisfied through visits to people like doctors, shoe salespeople, hairdressers, masseurs and various other people that have to touch us, in some minor manner or another, to perform their jobs. It's an interesting concept, especially as many people would not accept the same touches from a stranger on the street, but when they have a 'professional right' to touch us, we accept it. Face it, how would you react if someone you didn't know just started adjusting or playing with your hair the way a hairdresser does? Let alone touch you or poke at you the way your doctor does. :P

What other thoughts have I had? I spent some time discussing the increasing expression of sexual need that women my coworker, J, appears to be in contact with, are doing. These are women from all age groups; my age (a resounding 22) right on up to the people about his age that he speaks with in chat rooms (45+). I was speculating that for my age group, at least, many women may, rightly or wrongly, equate personal freedom and liberation with sexual freedom, and therefore feel that by being in touch with their sexual side, and acknowledging that it is a strong drive and hey, women like sex too!, that they are somehow more secure, more independent women. That may well be true, but I do not feel that one equals the other; hell, look at me. :P For women around my coworker's age, I was suggesting that it could be due to their having passed their sexual peak (around 35 on average) and riding their prime on out; many women who are anorgasmic (inorgasmic? They can't come) at a young age suddenly discover either through their bodies changing or they (finally) encounter experienced lovers, that all of a sudden they are orgasmic, and sex is much more enjoyable for them. Speaking as someone that spent a great many years of her sexual life being anorgasmic during the act itself, I know that it is quite possible to enjoy sex without having an orgasm, so it's not as if "I can't come (during penetration only)=I don't like sex," but perhaps some women feel that it isn't worth the bother, and I fully support their making that choice, the same as I would support a man doing the same thing.

I used to feel like a total freak; the studies I've seen say that about 1/3 of women are actually able to orgasm from penetration alone. That's it -- 33% of women. Somewhere around the same number of women have never had an orgasm. Fortunately, I was never part of that number; I was merely challenging. ;) Subsequent experience taught me that, hell yes I can come, and y'know what on top of that? I'm a screamer! ;) But prior to that, it seemed as if most of my female friends with whom I discussed sex could come during sex, and for them it wasn't difficult at all; anatomically, I am not suited to orgasm from rubbing my pubis against someone else's pubic bone. It just doesn't provide the right stimulation for me, because I'm just not built for it. *shrug* I can live with that, and still have a great time in bed. It's the foreplay stuff that's sometimes more fun... othertimes it's just getting slowly made love to or out-and-out fucked that's where it's at. ;)

I also had a conversation with an old friend today about school programs and how long we've known each other and whatnot, as well as some of my thoughts behind the whole abandoning the list thing. It was really nice, and it kept me alert and interested during my shift at work, which isn't a usual thing for Wednesdays. Did I mention Wednesdays are my longest days? Urgh.

I can't believe there's only something like 7 weeks of classes left; at least 7 Wednesday classes left. *dance* Of course, in that time I still have a reading log, a term paper and a midterm to do, and that's just for the scary class. November is going to royally suck.

Huh. Checking out Blogger stats right now, and someone hit my site twice by searching for 'j-place amateur' -- frankly, I'm afraid of what 'j-place' might stand for, and I thought I knew a bunch of the terms. In the interests of science, let's see what else turns up when I do the same search...

I get an ad for a bisexual exhibitionist swinger, some information on professional versus amateur photographers, up the skirt shots, and some other random sites that include 'j-place' as a name... my site turned up for two different entries: One when I mention going over to J's place (the ex-boyfriend), and then another where I posted a big list of what your first initial tells about you when it comes to sex, and for "J" names, you don't like amateurs... weird things turn me up on Google. :)

So, I'm giving myself a day off or so. Today my third season of Sex and the City arrived from Chapters (which reminds me of the other thing I wanted to write about), so I'm going to watch a few episodes tonight then gorge on those and my Greek Mythology readings tomorrow. After sleeping in. :) And pampering myself in the bath and facial mask and all the stupid girly things that are fun to do. Maybe I'll even redo my nails if I feel adventurous. :)

So, Chapters thoughts. The Ottawa Citizen had an article about this on Sunday; namely that they're slowly making Chapters less reader-friendly, and more into a business. They've phased out the comfy chairs (which I'd noticed -- it's because they're harder to keep clean and undamaged, they claim), opened up the kid's section (so that parents will stop abandoning kids there, apparently), and now Starbucks has a sign out asking that you not bring in unpaid merchandise. According to the author of the article, Chapters people used to be very understanding if you spilled coffee on a book or magazine you hadn't purchased; frankly, I find that highly doubtful, and I seem to recall that sign having been there for quite some time -- it's not a recent addition. What is a recent addition, though, is the purpley paint that's slowly replacing the happy yellow paint that used to adorn the walls. As well, all of the big signs that used to advertise which section you were in -- "Lifestyles," "Fiction" and whatnot -- are now gone, namely because there were where the purple paint is now. The section in front of the cashiers used to have a few tables full of discounted books, and maybe some Godiva chocolates or gift boxes (Chapters has long had a partnership with Godiva, that predated the Indigo acquiring them), but now there are vast tables full of stuffed toys, kitchenware, candles, and various other non-book related items. If I want to buy a martini glass and shaker, I think I'm going to go to a kitchenwares store; I'm not about to go to my local Chapters. Chapters is for books; I go there because I like the selection of books it has (and please note, I still frequent Coles, probably even more so than Chapters), not because I can buy prepackaged coffee or decks of cards (yes, these are all items you can buy in Chapters, this isn't even Starbucks coffee that they're selling). Chapters had a warm, uplifting feeling for me; anytime I'm going from work to go to Chapters, I tell my coworker J that I'm going to "play in Chapters." It smelled slightly of coffee, which I liked even though I don't drink the stuff, and there was light jazz or pop music playing in the background (Starbucks always seemed to have some jazz music going on, same with their Internet-capable computer section), nothing that interfered with your book perusal. Today, there was some kind of harder R&B... I don't know quite how to describe it, but it certainly wasn't music I would have chosen to put on while eyeing books. A bookstore is a calming, fun place for me; I can spend hours just gazing at the titles and covers and the different colours and lettering and sizes and such of the books. I don't require music to enhance the experience, but if so, I think that something like jazz music is a nice background counterpoint.

Anyhow, I'm not as ranty about it as that sounds. It's just thoughts I had while there. I did leave with one book, though, so the experience wasn't for nought; mainly I'm waiting on the paperback versions of some of my favourite author's books to come out, or even their newest offerings (i.e., Susan Andersen, Jennifer Crusie, Terry Pratchett, Robert Asprin, if you were wondering ;)).

Heard from Di that Sara, her sister, said that the part-time profs may be going on strike. Of course, there's nothing on the website if this is in fact the case. What it does mean, though, is the potential to screw up my final year (although not a huge deal, since I live at home and work basically full-time throughout the year). However, if it means that I fail Theories, or even if I do fail Theories on my own account, I'm going to the department to offer them a pint of blood and my best friend and my first born children in order that they might pass me.

Barring that, I'll offer to kill off a select few of their enemies, and see if that helps my case. :)

Maybe several pounds of chocolate... we'll see.

I remembered why I was bringing up the conversation with K, the old friend. I realized today (although it's been mentioned by a few people before, it seemed to really drive home today), that I tend to attribute a lot of negative qualities to groups of people. That sounds wrong; namely, I project past experiences onto people. It's nothing to do with them -- it's not like anyone in the group gave me cause to think that such-and-such an action or comment meant what I analyzed it to me, but it's simply my conditioning from past relationships and friendships, unfortunately. Because the ex- or the coworker would say or react to something a certain way, I expect totally different groups of people to react the same way. Or someone makes a comment and I read way too much into what they've said or their expression or their tone. It's quite the road to paranoia, and it's totally unfair. I've always taken people's opinions to heart, even if they were someone that meant nothing to me. I don't know why I have, maybe conditioning from elementary school when the R's would make fun of me and I just wanted to be liked, I don't know.

What am I trying to say? Namely that I'm always self-conscious. I worry all the time that I'm talking too much, or not enough, or saying something offensive or stupid or not funny... and sometimes I relax and forget all this... and that would seem to be the times when the coworker would start to pout because I said something that upset him or I didn't pay enough attention to him or whatever.

Ben and I had a conversation a few nights ago about the 'importance' of having bad relationships because they teach you how to deal with adversity and you learn how to fight with someone you love. I say to you Ben, this is freaking proof that all you wind up with is baggage and horrible circumstances. Bad relationships are nothing but bad experiences, and while I have to celebrate all that every one of my relationships has taught me, I tend to regret the baggage and sore spots and hot buttons and paranoias -- either mine or someone else's (like The Ex-, UBFM's problem with being called a "goof" -- but you could call him anything else!). I need a few years in an isolation chamber to lose all this... and any other social skills whatsoever I might have had. ;)

I think that's all I have in my head for now. I'm going to go see if I can get onto Dad's computer so I can start my smut- or porn-watching, as my parents term it. I call it fun. :) I may have tomorrow, or I may wind up using it all up on the emails I owe and whatnot. We'll see. :)