As humans, most of us know that unique type of heartache borne of rejection. Kinda like placing your hand flat on a heated iron - HOLEE PHUC! Good to be alive, is it not?!?
Indeed, this bracing pain is often followed by an unfortunate aftermath which includes a desperate search for something to fill that … er, void. It's a dangerous spot to be in and it has me feeling reckless: I'm in rebound mode.
So, I guess it's no surprise that while ingesting my daily required intake of technology news, my whacked inclinations took me down a dark, throbbing path. Swear to the Dolly Lama, I was on the company clock, dutifully reading my Wired News, when I stumbled across this sentence: "The Cone weighs less than a pound, is about 7.5 inches in diameter at the base, and includes an orgasm button for emergencies."
Hey, I got your emergency right here, pal.
Reporter Regina Lynn covers the fun part of technology – clever inventions concerned with delivering earth-shattering, sheet-ripping, real-life, not-faking-it-like-the-last-time orgasms. Mind you, she whines about covering the Sex Toy Expo - that all the multi-dongs and five-way vibrators didn't offer much new and interesting to her office/boudoir world. I should have such assignments, particularly in my delicate emotional state when I am at my most deserving.
Honestly, I feel like Jill Clayburgh in 1978's "An Unmarried Woman" (yes, I know I'm dating myself but dammit, someone has to) in this awkward attempt to start over. It's like cleaning the garage … where to begin?
Craigslist, of course. As previously mentioned, I have leaned on CL much in recent days. As I see it, beyond my fabulous local homegirl gang (Kath, Karen, Jami – that's you!) there also exists a world of Denver men out there just waiting for me to barge into their little lives and make them rethink a rule or two of physics. And so, after perusing numerous ads, answering a few here and there, I decided to kick it up a notch and post my own.
Trolling for guidance, I first reviewed a number of postings from competing bimbii and noticed a repeated mistake – too much, too soon. (Mind you, this is not in the "casual encounters" category where the standing theme is "anyone will do, preferably right now.") Gals were sharing their long romantic histories along with even longer requests of male attributes they would prefer, from follicle/thread counts to shoe size.
Not sure how it was working for them but I do know that men are simple – not stupid by any means – just less complicated. Let's face it, if women ran our political system, we would have 27 parties to choose from. (I happen to think it would foster some major improvements. Then again, I believe we should have as many choices for elected evil as we do for cereal, but that's a blog for another day … )
Hence, I focused on my most basic of needs: Before the summer ends, I must scream my lungs out while mounting a ferocious roller coaster - the bigger, the better. I merely want a companion in this goal – someone who would not only share my enthusiasm but who could screech just as loud and possibly even cry. In short, I sought a season ticket holder to Elitch Gardens, Denver's downtown amusement park. It taunts me every time I drive by with its fancy loops and bold tracks – it simply must be conquered. More importantly, I need an opportunity to scream in public without getting arrested.
Well, I posted in early July and received over 40 responses ... and still counting. It's all a bit overwhelming. A handful or so got deleted, along with their zealous graphics (the metaphor proved much too tempting for some) but it seems I may have to hire an professional admin just to sort through all the sane fellows and file them according to yell-ability.
Hmmmm, perhaps I could find a cheap one on Craigslist ... ?