Everything is bright and gaywads....

I'm sitting in my office editing The Superior Radio Hour. I've got 8000 things I should be doing that are NOT this, but I promised it by the end of the week and lo, it is very nearly the end of the week.
It's been strange, too. I had sex, which is unusual, and kind of brings me to the topic of my blog today. I was expounding upon it in an email to Steph earlier today, and it makes me want to confess things to random strangers who may stumble upon it.
I think I'm weird about sex. I also assume that most people feel that way about themselves. I mean, really, what points of reference do you have? Am I a porn star? No, not at all, but that's the most sex I've seen outside of soap operas and David Lynch films, so when I DO have sex, that's what I think of as normal, although that's not at all what makes me happy. So, I usually put on a big show, have a terrible time, and then leave (or ask him to), disappointed. If I am comfortable enough to be myself, I feel like I am horrifically odd about the whole thing, as I usually feel that I am horrifically odd about everything else, and that the poor fella is gonna be like, "You want me to say WHAT?" or "Holy christ, how do I get out of here?"
So then, what do have for comparison, judgement, or a control model? Pretty much just your partner's comments, right? The first few guys were very complimentary (though the very first one was also overwhelmed by it being HIS very first one), and I took that to mean that I was, in fact, a phenomenal lay and that all of my research and reading and movie watching had made me a new but expert practitioner of the sexual arts. However, when I realized that most of the sex I'd had had been relatively bad, and that I had told each and every one of those men that they were really quite good at it, it occurred to me that they had probably said complimentary things about me so that I wouldn't feel bad, much as I had done to them. That left me COMPLETELY flummoxed as to my ability to provide good and satisfactory sex, so I got really good at cooking.
Bringing me to this week. I've had sex a grand total of six times this YEAR with two people. I was reading a report on MSN about how we are having a sex crisis overall in our country due to stress, obesity, busyness, and etc, and it made me feel better for a second. I was a raving skank for a year when I was 27 and since then, it's pretty much been a straight draught with the exception of a little here and there. March 30th was the last time, and that was pretty good, but the guy ended up being icky, so I went into this one excited about the potential, but cautious.
I think part of the problem is that the attraction was completely ripe about three weeks ago, and if it could have happened THEN, it might have been okay. I waited too long, though, and it felt like payment on an obligation more than anything. I had to get drunk and other to do it at all, and in the very brief moment that I let myself get, you know, caught up in the moment, he freaked out about the fact that wanted some commentary on how I was doing, and that made me shut right up and shut right down. And now I feel like I have unacceptable needs and am just generally not good at it.
I'm still novice enough to get excited about it. EVERY time. I think, "OMG, really? I get to have sex right now? Awesome!" and then we get started and then I think, "Oh, shit. I have no idea what I'm doing." When I'm not having it, I can't think about much else, and when I am starting to have it, I am a nervous wreck, and there have only been two times in my life where I got past the nervous wreck stage, and then it turned out that the guy was either a lazy, no-job-having douchebag or a lazy, no-job-having douchebag who found me physically repulsive when it came right down to it. So, what is a girl to think?
Suffice it to say that this was definitely a one-shot deal with this week's fella, since I can't imagine I could even look him in the eye again. What I'm most bummed about is the tremendous blow to my confidence this has left..I mean, I'm already freaked out about it, and now I'm freaked out and sure that I'm the worst ever. Maybe I'll pick up some sort of idiot and get one under my belt before I attempt a serious try again.
Or maybe I'll become a secular nun.