There has been a trend to my recent dreams. They all feature me getting laid. Which is quite nice, but it would be nicer if it were reality, not some stinking dreams.

This has led me to deduce that I have been celibate for entirely too long.

Yet, there is nothing I can really do about it that wouldn't involve me cheating on crankypants. And it's another 3 weeks - to the day! - until I see him again.

Over the past 18 months of this stinking relationship, I have had longer celibate stretches than I had when I was single. Obviously, there is something wrong with this. Usually I like the distance - it allows me to run amock and do things, like go to open casting calls for The Bachelor tonight with friends, that I probably wouldn't get to do if we were around each other all the time.

But the long periods without sex really suck.

And then I start getting all depressed, and convinced that I'm never going to find anyone to marry.

The reasonable thing to think is - hey, you're only 23! Entirely too young to be tying the knot! (Even though it seems like everyone my age is getting hitched.)

But no, it's so much more fun to wallow in this utterly depressed and forlorn state.

And what sparked this latter melodramatic mood? Watching Trista and Ryan get married last night. Geeze. Sometimes I'm a complete sap and entirely pliable piece of putty in the network's clever clutches.

I also have not been hungry for the past couple of days. Obviously, something is seriously wrong, because I am never not hungry. Usually, I'm constantly hungry. But the only things I want to eat right now are pasta drizzled with a little olive oil and .. well, really, that's it. Even the shipment of truffles from one of my friends at home isn't tempting at all. And they're good truffles too, and she had to make several special trips while she was in San Francisco to hit the store while it was open.

Maybe I have a tapeworm.