“Mannn…celibacy when un-intended is NOT cool. Whew…I’ve got a lot on my mind and it has nothing to do with the worries of the world…I need to bust a nut, have an orgasm…scream out to the GODDESS….get my toes curled…speak in tongues…Hallejuah! Whew…that did it for me. I hate feeling like there is no outlet for one’s sexuality…why is it bad for a young healthy lady such as myself, to want to have mind numbingly good sex…with no negative consequences and WITHOUT being considered a girlwhore? Those of you who know me, y’all know that I have a HEALTHY sexual appetite. Sheeeit…in the summertime…ladies watch out…in the springtime…oooh, yer in trouble…oh, the fall, snuggling always turns into sex and well the winter…sheeeit it is too damn cold to NOT be having having sex…so then the question remains…why Lawd…why am I celibate? When I ain’t choosing to be. Could it be the scores of pumpfakers filtering in and out of my life? Am I too choosy…sure I’ve only slept with a small number of women, but that’s a GOOD thing, right? Oh wait, here’s a reason why…cause the last girl I slept with turned out to be a pyscho terd with no sense of decorum or tact…which left me sensitive and numb to the pleasures of the flesh….” (originally written in 2007)

Hahahahaha, I wrote that nearly two years ago, and here we are. So much has changed since I wrote those words, though much has remained static…hence the creation of this blog. Sheesh, I’ve been “dating” women for over ten years now, and I still don’t seem to have this thing down.

Again, in reference to the title of this blog, I’m nonplussed, I just don’t get women.

I have a very basic understanding of myself, being as that I too am a woman. I know my own deltas…I’ve celebrated my positives. I’ve come to terms with who am I and what my expectations are, and why. I celebrate my own womanhood and wear it as a badge of honor and pride, even when in the deepest thralls of Pre-Menstural Dyspohric Disorder…I’m still woman hear my roar. Yes, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I prefer to date others like me, but why I ask you, why is it that I cannot get past the dreaded friend zone.

You all know the one. You’ve either banished someone to that dry dusty land, or have been there yourself. “Oh, I like you, just not like like…” “I hope I wasn’t leading you on, you’re a great person, but I only like you as a friend.”

My emotional response to that has run the gamut, including: anger/sadness/frustration/dejection/elation…and in one strange case, joy.

Now, the saying goes, one can never have too many friends. Guess what, yes you can. Yes you really, really can. At this stage in my life I have more than enough friends, although the women I’m interested in getting to know, don’t really seem to think I do and that I need more.

And why pray tell, do women want to remain friends after a break-up. “I love you, I really do, but can’t we still be just friends?” Yup, that’s precisely what I want to hear after breaking up with someone… I ‘d much rather hear that than something like “Look, I know we’ve broken up, but can we still sleep together...NSA?” Whatever happened to those good old days. (Originally written in 2009)