Thursday, March 25, 2010


Day Three of Self-Injected Hormones: Still horny, though perhaps not as blindingly as before. Plagued by insomnia--again, not unusual for me, but definitely intensified. Maybe a tiny bit crampy from time to time, but nothing unbearable. Giving myself injections has turned out to be far less traumatic than I thought it would be. I was given the option of taking them in the thigh, and I quite literally can't even feel it. Definite WIN.

As to my personal life, I've seen The Guy (No, I really couldn't come up with a better nickname than that. I tried.) twice since the evening that I mauled him. Both times we were at rehearsal, and both times he has been cut before I was, thus thwarting my schemes to get him alone somewhere off theatre property--be it only the subway--in order to more objectively evaluate the situation. I have tried, and apparently failed, to indicate that I would enjoy doing just that. My subtler hints have gone unnoticed, and the one whopping LARGE hint--namely kissing him in a not-at-all-subtle fashion, right after saying something akin to "I'm far more attracted to you than I should be"--has not since been addressed.

It feels like the level of flirtation has escalated, but it's difficult for me to say when all of it is taking place in front of the rest of the cast--one of whom is aware of the events of the previous evening, having been in my inebriated company immediately thereafter. (If you think I have no filter in my blog, you should see me when I'm drunk.) The one significant change I can note is that, when he is supposed to kiss me on stage, he actually does so now, whereas before he'd been faking it. That may, or may not, be something.

In other words... I haven't got a frakking clue what is going on, and short of dragging him into the dressing room, locking the door, and having my way with him (or what way I can have under current restrictions), I'm not sure if or when I'll ever figure it out.

Not that I'm not enjoying myself along the way mind you. Flirting is fun. Cute boys are fun. Feeling slightly jittery around someone new is fun.

But by now you've all become at least mildly acquainted with my Crazy, and these hormones are not making her any easier to keep under control.

Right now, The Happy, Sane Froggy Who Just Enjoys the Moment is at a stalemate with the Crazy... but when that Stalemate becomes a Checkmate, well... I just don't know who's going to win.


Jess said...

The Crazy DOES sound kind of fun. And also, you can't be blamed because it is all the fault of The Hormones.

Therapeutic Ramblings said...

Your Crazy is entertaining...I picture it like "Fred" from "Drop Dead Fred".

As for the guy,he knows you are around....the tongue thing squared that issue away.