Busy being intimate

I'm too busy with intimacy to blog. It's hard work, you know.

Experiment in Intimacy: Day 2

My body hurts today from the yoga. I did continue to feel the effects of the opening of the chakras, however. Yoga is definitely going to be an important part of this experiment/project/journey.

As I mentioned in an earlier comment, I am in the early stages of the journey here: packing the bag, or perhaps I should say, unpacking the baggage. To begin this process, I thought I would make a list of things that enable my avoidance of intimacy:
1) Metablogging. Metablogging allows for a glib, self-righteous distance (as some of our sisters in blogging pointed out). I now have my own blog - this one - which allows me to express my true feelings and as Dr. Phil would say "keep it real" or "get real" or whatever it is he says to that effect. I believe this realness (?), (or would that be,"reality") could lead to more intimacy. My concern is that I'm too post-modern for all of this reality.
2) The waiter fetish. I need to expand my interests beyond waiters who come and go through swing doors. I love waiters and double-action hinges. Sigh. This one will be difficult.
3) The Spider Solitaire addiction. There are worse and sexier addictions, I know, but I think that any addiction can impede intimacy.
4) My Essex background. I come from a long line of intimacy-avoiders.

There are more obstacles to intimacy, but let this be a start.

Day One: Intimacy Challenge

I decided to go to a yoga class to reawaken my chakras which I hear can lead to good intimacy. It felt good. My self-discovery question of the day: "Why do I not go to yoga more often when it makes me feel so good?"
My yoga teacher, an adorable handsome poptart of a young man, was photographed in this position for being associated with the Best Yoga Place of Ottawa. Fortunately, he didn't make us do that position.
The yoga was followed by a drinking session with the ESIs. I expressed a lot of feelings to them, but they didn't seem to notice, the unfeeling bastards.
Today when I was thinking about intimacy, I had a flashback of the time when the 5M's rabid posse came after us, accusing us of being glib, self-righteous assholes (or something to that effect). I think what they were trying to say was that we weren't writing enough about intimacy.

The Intimacy Challenge

The 5th Muse has made an appearance in a recent comment on the ESI blog, and stated that I should blog about intimacy. This is not easy for me, an Essex woman who has made it her mission to avoid intimacy at all costs. However, I am always up for a good challenge, and this is one that could perhaps lead to 1) the removal of the bandages (although I do like the mystery of the look) 2) growth (although I love my perpetual state of adolescence) 3) a journey of self-discovery (blech!).
So this week will be a pilot project in intimacy. I will blog all. In intimate detail.

Sex with a cold

Remember that scene in the movie version of The Unbearable Lightness of Being when Julie Binoche jumps Daniel Day-Lewis' bones after she arrives with a terrible cold? I urge all of you with snotty noses to go out and rent this, and start shagging.

Sex with the flu is not recommended. If you have a fever, body aches or are vomiting, sex is not a good thing. Sex, however, is actually good for a cold. And - guess what? If you are shagging someone with a cold, you won't get the cold. You know why? Sex boosts your immune system. So there!

Stitches are out and other news

I asked one my waiter friends to take out my stitches this weekend. Waiters are good at this kind of thing. Stitches are not difficult to remove. To remove stitches you need tiny scissors, tweezers and a steady hand. Definitely a do-it-yourself project. Definitely not worth sitting in a waiting room with a bunch of sick people.

Other news and reflections: I've come to peace with my new muse role. Still hoping that Musie will help me out by commenting on how I'm doing. Perhaps she could even set up her own little metablog...Just an idea. I am also hoping that Bob will support me in my new role--even though he seems to just care about his drywalling and his "doobies" these days.

Thanks to all of you for your support. I will do my best to live up to the high standards set by the 5th Muse.

Message to Musie -- HELP!!!

When I read that Musie is moving on, I immediately thought -- How will this affect me, the Elgin Street Muse? I was meant to be simply a stand-in, an understudy, a half-time show. Now, I am unclear about what my role is. Am I , Aggie, the new muse?

There have been some criticisms of my blog: 1)That it is dull (apparently Spider Solitaire is not an interesting enough addiction; 2) That I don't dish enough dirt about people I know (although they are the ones reading my blog!); 3)That I don't post enough (I'm busy playing Spider Solitaire); 4)That there is not enough sex (I'm working on it, ok?); 5) The list goes on, but you get the idea.

I would like to ask Musie to COMMENT on my blog to give me some coaching on how to be a muse. Because it is fucking hard! Please. HELP!!!

Hit on in Ikea by Divorced Firefighter

Just when I thought that my mojo was on the wane, I was approached in the Ikea restaurant (while gobbling a large plate of $4.99 Swedish meatballs) by a tall gentleman who said, "I couldn't help but notice you over by the Pfaff chairs...or was it the Slumpft lamps...Anyway, would you like company?" I said "sure" while continuing to enjoy the meatballs. He introduced himself as Ralph, then proceeded to ask me a series of interview questions, such as "What do you do?" "Are you from Ottawa?" "I detect an accent - what part of England are you from", etc...Then, he asked some inane questions like "Do you tell jokes?" (My response, "Absolutely not!"), and "Do you sing, and would you like to sing right here?" That's when I said, "OK -- whoaaaa. I have a question for you, Sonny. What's with the approaching complete strangers and interviewing them?" He then confessed that he was a divorced firefighter. Had been married to a cop. "That was your first mistake, right there," I interjected. He added that since his divorce he had been learning a lot about love, much of it through a groundbreaking book called The Five Languages of Love , which I don't have to buy now because he told me what the five languages are. In a nutshell, they are: give presents, don't be a sod, take out the rubbish, shag, pretend to listen when loved one is talking. I told Ralph that I wasn't sure about the hitting on women in Ikea approach. "Aren't you doing the online thing, Ralph?" He said he was, but that it wasn't working for him. "You can't get chemistry on-line", and "you feel like a commodity" he added. I agreed with Ralph that on-line dating is not good. Then, I told him that while I enjoyed firefighters, my real thing was waiters. He was disappointed, but he left happy because I gave him some tips:
1) Don't hit on anyone else in Ikea. Save it for the pubs.
2) Get out and get drunk. That's how you meet the ladies.
3) Get off of lavalife.
4) Watch the Tao of Steve . Women don't like desperation.
5) Stay away from cops.