If your name is "Anonymous" and you read this post and are tempted to leave a comment telling me how disappointed you are with today's post, let me save you the trouble. Yes, I know you find my Thor posts "boring". Yes, I know you liked me better when I was miserable. Yes, I know that blogging about my crush on The Rock is funnier than blogging about my love affair with the man of my dreams.
The solution is simple. Go read something else. Don't nominate me for any blog awards. Don't comment (that'll teach me!) - Tell all your friends you hate me and that my blog has "jumped the shark".
Since I began this blog one boring December day in 2004, I have written my posts based on the way I felt at that particular moment. When I found myself pondering the lid of a Snapple cap, I wrote about my silly thoughts. When ex-boyfriends threw beer in my face or hurt my feelings or left hateful comments, I wrote about my anger and disappointment. This blog is called "Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven", not "Anonymous Reader's Toaster Oven".
That said, here is what I am thinking about today.
Thor has been away now for two weeks. It will be at least twice that long before I see him again for a short visit. My whole heart aches. I can't take a walk in the park or listen to Patty Griffin or go to a strip bar without tears welling up in my eyes. Yeah, so, I got misty-eyed in a strip bar and it wasn't because of the cigarette smoke, what of it? I tell you I think about him all the time because I loved the way he made me feel, and I loved the way I made him feel.
I've really been having a rough time keeping my pants on ever since Thor left. I mean that in every sense of the word. I am craving the warm tender feeling you can only find in physical touch. I know that my sex drive is ridiculous. It is through the roof sometimes. So, I'm not the perfect candidate for a long distance relationship. I need touch and lots of it.
Perhaps if I were waiting for a less desirable man to come home to me, I'd allow myself to indulge in some innocent heavy petting with someone, but the fact that my guy is, to me, the sexiest man alive, makes it hard for me to act on my impulses with anyone but him. Believe me, I've tried, but I can't take the way it makes me feel inside when I sort of "dip my toe" into the infidelity pool. You'd think the fact that he trusts me completely and sees my need for an occasional kiss or more as a purely innocent distraction while he's away would absolve me of the feeling that I belong to him. It doesn't.
My only defense is to make myself as undesirable as possible. That is why I have taken to wearing my grandpa underwear until Thor comes back to me. What is my grandpa underwear? Well, if you didn't click the link the first time, I'll give you one more chance.