To Be [A Slut] Or Not To Be

From January 10, 2010


So my reputation has surpassed me. It took the most unsuspecting person to point it out, even though I subconsciously have been aware of this fact. Am I ready to settle down? I don't know. Am I having fun picking and choosing my sexual partners? I don't know anymore. Do I want to be the girl at my current watering hole that every guy has been with? I'm pretty sure I already am. However, that does not bother me much, because I knew from the second I walked into this place that it was highly doubtful a suitable mate would ever walk through the door.

I believe I am entering a new phase in my sexual journey. While I enjoy sex, and I love to experiment, is it really necessary for the number of people I have slept with to keep growing? I am becoming uneasy with adding to my track record. So I've made a pact with myself - no more new encounters for the time being. I'm not strapping on a chastity belt and throwing away the key by any means. I'm just starting to feel jaded by the one-nighters. There's not much satisfaction in the Liz Phair "Fuck and Run"-esque kick I've been on since my Ex and I split up. I've got enough cock in the arsenal to keep me in line, at least for the time being. There's Buzzard, HB, The Other Photographer, The Boy...

Maybe I will just start making them work a little harder at getting into these pants. Make them put forth a little more effort. While I am far from perfect, I still think I'm a pretty decent catch. I don't need a lobotomy to keep this pact; I can still trudge on with my aggressive personality, but there's a big difference in approaching someone I'm physically attracted to just to brush my hand against their crotch and approaching someone to strike up a conversation out of sheer intrigue.


Update: What the fuck was I thinking? I'm never going to run for president so do I really care about a reputation? I've replaced most of the FWBs that caused me strife with ones who DON'T. Last night I was talking with a girl at the bar and she said to me, "Why do you call yourself a slut? If you see something you want and you go after it, that doesn't make you a slut. It means you're a self-confident, powerful woman who knows what she wants." I raised my glass to her. Or my beer bottle. I can't remember.