a matter of perspective
I like sex a lot. There, I've said it. I have had my moments in life when I thought that I ought not to like it that much, when I was embarrassed by how much I like it, when I've blushed when a dude has said something along the lines of "Wow, you seem to have a lot more fun than most women." I've been a serial monogamist; the girl that doesn't want to do it on the first date; the girl who wants to do it on the first date but won't; and at some point I thankfully graduated to being a woman who has sex when I want to have sex with a given person who is equally willing. Also, I got off the Pill, got my heart broken a bunch, realized I might not actually "find" someone permanent, stopped judging myself and turned 30, and between all of that my libido kind of went through the roof. Last night, I complained to Anna that, having recently ended a thing with a guy, I was already feeling the weight of the dry spell. Yeah, it's been a
whole ten days since I had sex and I'm complaining that this is a dry spell. Let's all join me after the jump to wonder what's wrong with me.
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Jezebel
