I broke up with Andrew. Long story short, he was ignoring me, and I no way was going to put up with that, good sex at Thanksgiving or no.

On Tuesday I had dinner with my sister and a guy from a different class, who we’ll call William. William and I also stood in the 30°F weather talking for an hour on Monday. It was so good to get to connect with someone. I don’t know whether he’ll end up being anything more than a friend, but he seems like a good guy.


Yesterday, I had one of the most intense experiences I’ve had recently. A guy I know—let’s call him Telemachus— Mac for short— came home with me, we got gloriously stoned, and he read me his poetry. His good poetry.

It made me so fucking horny, I could barely stand not jumping him. I mean, pot AND poetry? Jesus, you had me at hello.

Maybe I should have jumped him? I don’t know. It’s definitely what a true slut would’ve done, but I’m not there yet. But I have class again with him on Friday and if nothing happens then, I will be severely disappointed.

I was still so horny hours later that I texted my ex-boyfriend, Chance, and after telling him what had happened, basically begged him to get me off.   I sent him some pictures of me fucking myself and my ass with a dildo he bought me, as an incentive.  He obliged, very happily.