The Secret Confessions of a Horny House Wife

A few new links grace my blogroll today. 

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,Wrote the Horny Housewife- Until I began Secret Confessions, I hadn’t written in many years.  It felt so bad not to write.  I think you can categorize people by what they were born to do.  Something in their basic DNA drives every person to do one or two or three things.  Categories include artists, builders, teachers, talkers, singers, mathematicians, lovers, and nurses, among others. 

I’ve always been a writer, yet I spent years not writing.  I felt like a bird who wasn’t singing.  Like a hound who wasn’t hunting.  Like a tiny black ant, walking every day past minute morsels of food and failing to heave them onto my back and bring them home to my colony.  Every day I went to bed feeling I had left an essential task undone.  It was writing. 

But then I couldn’t not write.  My extramarital affairs set my brain afire.  My marriage was crumbling and I needed to make sense of it all.  I began Secret Confessions of a Horny Housewife in January, on my 35th birthday, and I am a writer again. 

Everything I write isn’t good, but I’ve finally processed that a person is a writer, not when what she writes is good, but when what she writes is written.  So I have no uncertainty anymore.  I am a writer because I write.  That’s it.  Sorry, big, scary, ugly, hairy Fear Monster.  I win this one.  You can have me back when I get on an airplane. 

I’ve been writing this blog, of course, but I’ve been writing some fiction, as well.  I began a play in 2004.  From 2004 until this January, I had written about four pages.  Since January I’ve written fifty more.  I’ve also begun a novel for young readers, and I just began a creative writing class. 

I’m going to post some of my fiction on my new blog, ,Wrote the Horny Housewife.  The first story I’ve posted, “Peanut Butter Man,” was inspired by my relationship with Detective Curt.  I hope you like it.  I do.

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College Hooker Boy - His writing is raw, aching, and, best of all, horny.  He is young, gay, handsome, living in Miami, and occasionally working as a paid escort.  I was tempted to put his link in the “Sisters in Sex” section of my blogroll.  That’s how delicious his blog is, but I was afraid he might find that insulting.  (You remember that embarrassing incident with T4Toby.)  I also like reading him because he inadvertently gives sex tips for girls.  (Guys, we really are sometimes at a loss as to what to do with those balls of yours…)  But check him out.  You’ll find yourself addicted soon. 

No Limits -  WARNING – read this only when you have time to masturbate.  The blogger is a woman living as a willing sex slave to a deliciously sadistic master. When I see she’s posted a new entry I quickly navigate away from her page until I am alone in the house and can slip my giant glue stick between my crotch and my office chair.  I’m not kidding.   Every one of her posts sends me back to my Married People Cheating Website, trawling for men with the keyword “dominant” in their profiles. 

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I also want to thank all the bloggers on my blogroll.  I enjoy every one of your blogs and read them religiously.  I’m so moved, excited and fascinated by:

• Constance and Mr. C’s imminent encounter;
• Elisabeth’s beautiful, sorrowful, emotional roller coaster;
• Lankrypt’s new baby;
• Nicolasix’s new puppy;
• Always That Girl’s divorce;
• Married Kitty’s sex with (of all people!) her husband;
• Ginormous Boobs’ Grilled Cheeses;
• Globous and Theraputic Rambling’s new jobs;
• T4Toby’s angry, frustrated, liberal theories (just realized he’s not on my blogroll.  I’ll have to fix that.); 
• Brainiac’s sex life;
• Sara’s sex during pregnancy;
• Terra’s continuing struggle for mental and familial equalibrium;
• and Craig List Experiment’s dating life. 
• Finally, The Bug House and PostSecret have nothing to do with sex, love, or politics, but they are so beautiful and poignant, I love them despite their lack of carnality. 

Marissa and (especially) Joe, I miss you and hope to read you again soon. 

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Does anyone else think it’s strange that the spell check for WordPress doesn’t know the words “blog,” “blogger,” “blogroll,” or “online?”  Seems unfathomable, but perhaps there is poetry in the unfathomable.  Now that I’m writing again, I try not to let poetry pass me by.