A boy whose resources I'd still love to tap, as if he were an economically helpless third world country, IMed me to say lovingly, "I've been stalking you, love!"

During our short-lived, anticlimactic honeymoon period, the first few days after we met, we'd talk consistenly online and on the telephone, and he vowed to visit the area again soon to see me... and of course, his college buddy. I recieved his message, after a night of almost superfluous beauty sleep, and noting he was online, I quickly IMed him, "Hey, stalker :D"

He hasn't IMed or called me since. Grr!

I am in complete adoration of this site: http://www.intellectualwhores.com/index.html. I insist that you visit it and read up on the Ladder Theory.

Brought to you by the letter L.

Just to clarify, hussies can, in fact, be male. It's not a gender specific thing; however, the type of heartache that generally transforms one into a hussy is usually inflicted by a boy. So for all our male readers who fancy themselves something of a "hussy", I suggest you question your sexuality.

On another note, I had a date this weekend. The boy was perfectly nice/sweet, and has done nothing to irritate me, so I have no reason to humiliate him, and therefore shan't. Still, this date had me thinking about larger issues of romantic relations and what we need in order to be attracted to someone. I've always been annoyed by people who philosophized about there being some connection, or "spark", between lovers, but this date persuaded me to agree with this wretchedly idyllic perspective. Whether you're out there looking for Mr. Right, or as I prefer, Mr. Right This Second, there has to be something attracting you to that person. After all, even a hussy has got to have *some* standards. :wink: And it was exactly those standards that prevented me from engaging in the act that distinguishes bad dates from potential second dates.

Brought to you by the letter L.

Hussies are made not born. Like many who delight in emotional maschocism, hussies struggle with what sex is really about. At some point, every hussy had her heart broken. But rather than allow the cycle to continue, we choose to rise above. Rather than playing victim to boys lust and seeking validation through sex, we simply take what we want, and leave bruised boys in our wake. We are not sluts, like so many of our contemporaries. Sluts seek love and attention through sex. We seek pleasure through sex, because that's what it's meant for. We are empowered.

On another note, I must share this story with you. A few weeks ago in DC, I broke one of my own rules and went out with the same boy a few days in a row. I should have known it was a mistake; we have rules for a reason. Despite the extremely short tenure of our "romance", he began getting very emotionally attached. One day he said to me, "I don't think we should have sex anymore". Shocked, I asked why. His reasoning was that he didn't want this to be all about sex. First of all, this was just about sex. Not that I didn't enjoy his company, but let's be serious here: what do I need a boy for besides sex? If you're not willing to stand at attention, then you're not much good to me. Second, when you start referencing interaction between us as this, it's time for you to go. Thanks for shoppin' at Quick Stop. Please don't come again.

Today's entry brought to you by the letter L.

So my grandparents are out of town for the weekend, leaving their home in the hands of their angelic granddaughter...me. What do I do with this privilege? Invite some boys over and try to be as big a hussy as possible. So boy #1 was invited, but contacted me at 9pm last night to tell me that he had fallen asleep and now didn't want to drive because of the rain. For this henious crime, he is automatically deleted from the list of possible boys to fuck. I mean, honestly, who turns down sex because it's raining outside? And they say women are the illogical ones.

Boy #2 decides he's going to save the day and come over. First I had to sit through "conversation". Ugh. Where did boys get the idea that you can't just say "Hi, how about a donut and a fuck", get naked, and move on with your day? I feel as though I must work to correct this myth in their minds. Eventually, he rather unskillfully moved things to the bedroom. Once there, we proceed to make out and get mostly undressed. Then we sadly discover, that neither of us has a rubber. (Sidebar: Normally, I've got a whole bunch of them, but recently ran out. It was obviously wrong to assume that a boy invited to a girl's house for a booty call would bring one. Jesus, what was I thinking? It's not like he has the penis or anything.) Regardless of the fact that it was clear I wasn't going to have sex, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. Here I have this normally very dominant boy squirmming underneath me, and I'm thinking "Go me." Before I know it, he's jerking off on my chest, which is really nasty. But, I'm willing to put up with his nastiness if it means getting a little action myself. Then in traditional male form, he gets up and starts getting dressed. Of course, I'm like, "Where do you think you're going?" And he says, "Home." in a way only boys can.

I can't believe I got blue balled.

The moral of the story here kids is always make sure you get yours first. One of the most important hussy rules is that you're in it for the pleasure. Getting a chest covered in cum is something girls with co-dependency issues do.

Thankfully, tonight is a new night, and I'm still home alone. So we shall see. Perhaps I will have a more *satisfying* story for tomorrow.