Now I can be such a sourpuss. I even think the way my face looks when I’m completely relaxed is mean and sour. I look like I just bit into a lemon.

My mum used to call me Little My when I was young. It’s a character from Moomin. She is grumpy and when she gets angry she bites. That pretty much summed me up as a child if I’m lead to believe my mother.

Apparently the grumpy face is something I was born with. And the attitude? Maybe something I grew into to, but I’m more on the grumpier side. I am a sourpuss.

Just recently, I was working with a festival. One of the highlights was the flee market area and I was in charge of renting out tables. When people called in to order a place or table and didn’t pay until the very ladt second (making me unsure if I should cancel their place) I got furious and promptly put them on the worst place, although the good ones still had empty slots. Why? Because I’m a sourpuss.

I would never show it to their faces, because I’m professional. But behind closed doors. I’m a sourpuss. Those who know me well, get to hear it well.

This entry was originally posted at Mushroom Print.

I feel mislead.

In every sitcom I watch, every dirty novel I read and every Playboy/Penthouse magazine I scour the Q&A for – I’m lead to believe, men are more sexual than women.

Men want it more.

There’s always some sort of power struggle where the woman holds out on the sexual or the man gets rewarded with a sexual favour when being such a good little boy. I know of course these are not the ideal situations to build a long lasting relationship, but my point is, the man is always wanting and willing.

This has never ever been the case in the relationships I’ve been in and I feel so… betrayed. Betrayed by TV and reliable magazines who have mislead me into thinking that the sex power dynamic in a relationship will be mine.

My reality have rather been that men are hot and eager for the first couple of weeks followed by being fulfilled and satisfied which only leads to me being “the beggar” later on in the relationship.  Some have lasted every day, others are satisfied with a couple of times a week. Me on the other hand, I’ve been yearning for round two.

I have nothing to fear when it comes to my own abilities, and I know I have nothing to fear over their fidelity. I. Just. Want. MORE.

So this fist goes out to all those misleading shows and magazines out there, who disregard the fact that men are human and not lead by their weiners. They are tired and sometimes choose a video game over sex. You lied to me Penthouse, you deceived me Playboy and I never again want to hear a TV husband beg for sex!

Work was killing me. I could literally feel it draining all the life out of me. Standing there smiling at all the costumers, who were acting like idiots, all the while the boss was fucking me up by not being any support, or at all reachable.

I could take it when I was only working weekends. Sure I was tired working every weekend and then going to school on weekdays but the exhaustion never kept me from being polite to customers while taking their shit, and it never really made me resent my boss. It all grew gradually from June until just the other day, when I quit.

I just can’t take it any more, feeling like I get screwed from all sides. So I quit to get some summer vacation instead, and it’s like the heaviest weight was lifted from my shoulders, the biggest sigh could escape my mouth and I could finally sleep at nights.

I’m free and I feel like I escaped a horrible punishment. It’s glorious not to be back there working my ass off for someone who never sees or acknowledges it. Working like a maniac for people who never appreciate it. Busting my ass off only to get bitched at. I don’t need it and I left it behind. Freedom!

I met a man. We never planned to get serious, we never planned to fall in love. We knew each other and all we planned for was a summer of a lot of sex.

I fell in love, he shortly followed. We spent a lot of time together and pretty soon I had inadvertently moved in with him.

Inadvertently. Because I never planned on renting my own place to his cousin. I never planned to want to stay with him after his cousin had moved out.

There were certain things I knew about him before I moved in, even before I fell in love. I knew he had a computer entirely filled with porn. It didn’t bother me at all. We watched a lot of that porn together.

I knew he hadn’t been in a serious relationship, and somehow that was a relief because no weird exes to compete with right?

But then a month or so ago, he started visiting these cam sites. No wait, it started before that when he visited a random girls blog and became somewhat obsessed with her and her silicon figure. Visiting that site daily and commenting about her. She became pregnant after a month or so of the site and stopped blogging (picture blogging also) so he never got updates, that’s when the cam sites became interesting.

These cam sites (stickam, tinychat etc) might seem harmless and they are not worse than porn right? But these are people he interact with, get a bond with and form a sort of relationship with.

I told him it bothered me, but he just says I’m silly and that he loves me and shit like that.

I shouldn’t be bothered by it, but I am. I shouldn’t care, but I do. And since I do, I also know… if he loved me and they aren’t important to him why is he on those sites daily, why is he spending hours watching girls, usually girls who never undress so it isn’t the porn value of it all, usually different ones so it’s not favoritism or a certain type where i can’t suffice.

My problem is, I feel inferior. I feel inadequate. And when speaking it I feel silly. I also feel insecure.

I bet I wouldn’t care if I had had really good confidence, but I don’t. So why kick on me while I’m down?