When I think of my recent attempts at dating and sex, the word “disaster” comes to mind.  Not that anyone’s been horribly burned or lost their life savings or anything, but things haven’t been exactly smooth.  Dates should not end with one party slipping away to buy cigarettes and not coming back.  Sex shouldn’t result in apologies.    Don’t you agree?  So it’s not a date, it’s a disasterdate.  It’s not sex, it’s disastersex.

And so now it’s gotten to the point that I’m afraid to even try anymore.  Which is made more difficult by the fact that I’m completely boy-crazy and can’t go a week without falling for someone.  So I’m in this weird state of desire/aversion all the time.  I want!  But I fear!

And I made out with someone last night.  Understandably, I am now insane.