self analysis

SEX

i feel like my sex history is a series of awkward and cringe-worthy encounters. I think my body hates me...or is at least frustrated.
body: "sabrina, you idiot, use me! I'm that awesome thing you admire but don't know how the fuck to maneuver or control. I have everything you need to be a sex goddess!"
sabrina: "i know! fuck me! oh wait...i don't know how. (cringe. defeated laugh.) I continue to choose the wrong people, and then say the wrong things. Basically I'm in the habit of undermining my own sexual self."

...where do i start? AAAAAHHHHHH!

CHEESE

there was a cheese tray at the concierge / business owners dinner last night. It had goat, english cheddar, irish cheddar, cranberry stilton, regular stilton, green grapes covered in blue cheese crumbles, breaded and baked, and me cheese. I only tried the grape after phil, my co self-aggrandizing host insisted. It was good, but I would have preffered the brie and goat. With the candied walnuts and cranberries on the table. Next time.

WINE

lack there of in yesterday's entire evening. NEXT TIME.

READING

Celestine Prophecy still. I'm a 'poor me' I think. Not the self title I want, but nonetheless true. I'm going to examine my childhood/parents more critically though so I can figure out my life questions and start stringing a long coincidences. Maybe that will rescue my sexual self in some way.