Has Anybody Seen My Mojo: An Experiment in T.M.I.

Somewhere along the way, in the midst of graduation and work and money craziness, it appears that I have lost my ability to, how shall I say, enjoy relations to the fullest.

I've been trying to figure out this mystery, boring poor Jack, Lani, and Deborah with all the sordid details...I mean, I'm on the verge of seeing a shrink, but I still can't figure out what has me so out of sync with my body. I didn't really care about stuff like this when I was married because, frankly, I just didn't. But since I've been a free woman it does matter to me, and for a minute there I was hitting it out of the park like clockwork.

Now? Not so much.

Some of the theories my dear friends and I have come up with are:

1. I'm not relaxed enough. And while it's true that a little weed would clear that right up, who wants to be dependent on that shit in order to have a good time? I have no problem with it if it's an occasional once in a blue moon smoke, but anything more than that and I'd consider myself an addict. So how to relax? Good question...

2. I'm thinking about it too much. But in my defense, I'm a writer. I live inside my head (along with many, many, OH SO MANY voices). It's kinda hard NOT to think about it when you haven't reached the top of the mountain with a partner since OCTOBER 2006- almost a year, folks- and not for lack of trying!

3. The men are wack. I personally was inclined to believe this (and still am), but at some point one has to sit back and admit to oneself that it may not be the other person.

4. I don't like the guys I'm in bed with. This is something I talked over with Lani recently. My thinking here is that, although I talk a good game like I'm a playa-playa, I'd actually rather be...do I dare say it? IN LOVE with the guy. Or at the very least in some sort of *blech* MONOGAMOUS relationship. I'm not convinced, but my Gemini brain forces me to look at all the possibilities.

And finally, my personal favorite-

5. I broke it. That's right, I broke it. There has to be some sort of punishment or consequence for running through men like a can of Pringles (mmmmm...Pringles...), and other activities that shall remain nameless. And this is it. I'm so desensitized that the only way to enjoy relations at this point would be to participate in an orgy that's being videotaped for the "...Gone Wild" series or something...who knows!

Whatever the case may be, I just want to warn whatever department of Mother Nature, Inc. is in charge of this: fix it soon, or there will be nothing keeping Lady Estrogen from occupying my body 24/7. And then NO ONE will be safe. If you thought I was bitchy before...

But I suppose things could be worse. I could be the girl you don't call back.

*smooches...yeah...I got nuthin'*
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Been so long;
I'm making plans to get back to you
Still I'm wondering what to do