2003-09-22 @ 8:33 p.m.
|A woman in my support group today thought she might be getting carpal tunnel syndrome from masturbating.
Speaking of masturbating, I went in for a massage today with Married Guy. Oh wait, there is no direct correlation between massage with Married Guy and masturbation, of course. Well, none that I would admit to.
The massage was nice, if not uneventful. I was very well behaved. No inappropriate references to sex scenes from "The Sopranos". I was toeing the line for my shrink actually. When the Married Guy was rubbing the muscles on the front of my right leg rather forcefully up near the Garden of Eden (and I was glad that I had shaved all the way up, since he was veering incredibly close to that area) I was saying to myself, ok, he does this for everyone and we're not going to talk about the fucking scene in "Six Feet Under". I, in fact, went silent for a good amount of time.
I had had a strange dream last night. It involved Married Guy and my Mom running around in a towel with the family jewels hanging out of the bottom. And I kept saying to her, "We can see everything. Cover yourself". She's 75 and weighs over 200 lbs. What was THAT about? I think my retinas got burned on that one. Will have to ask my shrink what that means tomorrow. Seeing your Mom's wee wee in front of Married Guy. God, that's twisted.
My shrink's dream analyzation is always interesting. Oh, I dreamed of a tree. That's phallic. Oh, I dreamed of a shopping mall. That means you want to participate in an orgy. Oh, I dreamed of a giant mile long cucumber, nestled in among two giant tomatoes. Oh, that means you want a salad.
One time in a group he asked everyone what their favorite TV show was. Everyone was saying like "Every Loves Raymond", "CSI", "West Wing". I watch very little network television since I don't have cable so I went back to the time when I used to enjoy "Pee Wee's Playhouse". No matter how depressed I was, I could always watch an episode of that stupid show and be rolling on the floor laughing within minutes. So I said "Pee Wee's Playhouse".
Well, of course, that was sexual. I don't know if it was because Paul Ruebens was busted at a porno theatre, or because my shrink just wanted to attach a sexual connotation to something that was totally void of sexuality. (Although I always thought Pee Wee and Cowboy Bob, might have had gay sex together somewhere down the line). I just never understood the connection.
Ok, I admit it, I always get this way after my sexual abuse group. Five women done wrong by men. I hear some real horror stories. I was actually in the best shape of anyone in group today. I guess because I had just come from my massage and was uber-relaxed. Even got a full frontal from Married Guy. A full frontal? That's a hug of course. A real hug. Not one of those off-to-the side Married Guy ones. I looked good today though. And I didn't act desperate. And I haven't been hounding him with e-mails. I've been a good witty kitty. What I've discovered recently is acting unavailable drives married men crazy.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty