"Don't put all your lesbian eggs in one basket."

All this talk of naked fun and blog disclosure has me examining my own current relationship status. In other words, I'm bored.

Yes, bored.

I haven't talked to Val since last Saturday night and an attempt to invite her to join me for margaritas on Sunday resulted in getting her voice mail. It's Tuesday and nary a peep from her. Contact over the past couple weeks has been spotty at best, though I'll concede that part of the problem is that she didn't have email access at home and work time has been kray-zee, but there's this other invention called the cell phone that I hear works wonders for communication. When I previously told Val I wanted a normal relationship, I should have also specified that a phone call once and a while was part and parcel of normal. And yes, this isn't supposed to be "super serious," but I'm not going to accept a relationship that only exists when it's convenient to her.

So there.

While the sex is nice, I'm coming to the realization that I'm far more on the chocolate side of vanilla. What does this mean? It means that I need passion. I need hot, dirty sex. I need to feel like I'm consuming my partner and they are consuming me. I need -- dare I say -- some kink. And the awful thing is that I can't stop using my day long bed romp with Anne as a yardstick.

What the fuck is wrong with me?