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Dilettante's Diary: the internal dialogue of a hedonist bluestocking.

I am a dilettante. I know quite a bit about a lot of things, but I don't know enough to be an expert on anything. I have a very sensual, hedonistic nature, but I am also a thinker, and I aim one day to be worthy of the label 'bluestocking', despite its pejorative connotations.

This is my journal, which, delightfully enough, doesn't have to go wherever I go, but is accessible from nearly everywhere I am.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Nightmare

There are some problems rising in my relationship with Michael. There is enough tension between us because I'm skittish about caring for people as deeply as I do him, and then his girl friend decides that she doesn't like the level of intimacy between the two of us. He told her more about our relationship, trying to ease her mind, I suppose, but it made me feel angry and hurt and exposed. So Sunday night I went to bed had this odd dream that turned into a nightmare...

I dreamed that Michael and I were having phone sex, and then something happened -- it sounded like he dropped the phone, and I could hear him moaning and crying out in this amazing orgasm. And then the phone picked up and it was a woman's voice and she started talking to me, picking up where he left off with me, and I had this hideous realization that it was his girlfriend. I tried to put the phone down but I couldn't and she asked me "What's wrong Kelly, you were doing it with Michael, why not with me? I know you like girls..." And she started making sounds and I knew he was fucking her and she was moaning and talking to me and she got into my head...And then she was Demming. And I woke up shaking and sweating and hating Michael, hating his girlfriend for her insecurity, hating myself for my fears.

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