I love to kiss, and not just because I know that sometimes it leads to more interesting things. I genuinly love to kiss. Hmmmmm, maybe this is why I enjoy BJ's so much!?!?! It's like kissing without having to worry about if the person you are locking lips with is a good kisser back!
I have made out with good kissers as well as my share of bad ones, but no one quite takes the cake like my European ex. And I don't mean "takes the cake" as in wins. I mean "takes the cake" as in GIVE ME MY MOTHER FUCKING CAKE BACK YOU CREEP, YOU DON'T DESERVE ANY STOLEN CAKE! Ok, sorry I yelled. I'm pretty sure you would yell too if someone was molesting your mouth.
Let me describe to you the few ways I like to kiss:
The kiss on the forehead while being embraced in a hug. This is my favorite. It is sweet, arousing, and romantic all in one. The fact that I'm short and am usually completly body to body looking up at my kisser makes it that much sweeter.
The come from behind soft kiss on the side of the neck. Wow. If you want me instantly turned on and ready for action, do this. I always have a light spray of perfume on the back of my neck incase someone wants to kiss me. I want them to relate the sexuality of a moment like that to my smell. What can I say, I'm a smell person.
The fun and quick "no one is looking so I'm gonna steal a smooch" kiss. This one is playful, and lets someone know that when you are alone there will be more!
The soft yet passionate make out. Hmmmmmmm. If you perfect this life is amazing.
Finally, the hard, hungry, hot, urgent and sexy "I need you right now so I'm going to take you" kiss. I hope everyone has experienced this one. This kiss comes with it's own set of carnal desires and needs that make it extra special.
Ok, so those are the ways I like to be kissed. Notice, I did not mention that I want your mouth open so wide that you are simultaniously licking down my throat while sucking on both of my cheeks and almost encapsulating my nose making it impossible for me to breathe. This is not hot. It feels like a bull dog is letting his fat limp tongue explore the dark corners of your mouth. Oh, and the hands! I can't forget the hands! Don't get me wrong, I like a little groping if the moment is right; however, having your hands move at rapid pace over every inch of my body that you can reach (without stopping your dog like kissing) is not enjoyable. It feels like you are trying to rub out a fire that isn't there. This leaves me thinking to myself "Hmmmmmmm how can I get this to stop, he is freaking me out and I'm going to need to buy stock in Chapstick if things continue like this for much longer". Let me just tell you, those are not the thoughts you want to be running through your head in what should be a moment of passion.
I know I am idealistic, I realize that. But honestly I love the "Princess Diaries" moment where you kiss and without knowing it your leg pops up. I actually believe in these moments because I have had a couple of them before. In the past, these wonderful kisses may not have turned into anything lasting, and I may still be single dreamer, but I know that the person I end up with will give me the most perfect last first kiss.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Friday, August 31, 2012
Bad luck? Curse? Or is it me?
I haven't written lately.
And by lately I mean months.
Sometimes I find it hard to be humorous, other times I pee my pants a little because I can't stop laughing at my life. But don't worry, I've got vagina balls to help me on the latter. They are HUGE and scary, but I'm working on my kegels right now. Literally right now. I might pass out because apparantly I have trouble breathing while squeezing my vagina. You would think I pass out during sex a lot, but nope, I'm a champ.
Anyway, I haven't been laughing lately so I haven't written. I have been in one of those slumps where I find the things that happen to me depressing rather than amusing. Yesterday I cried. A lot. I was hurt, upset, confused, and just plain teary eyed most of the day. This morning I woke up with a tear stained pillow case and realized I had 2 choices: I could keep crying, or I could force myself to write...force myself to find the humor in the hand that I have been dealt...force myself to laugh at my luck in the hopes that someone would stumble upon my happy little blog and smile in the realization that they are not alone in the shithole of the dating world.
So here I am. Laughing and telling you about my last couple of weeks in singledom.
Have you ever stopped talking to someone for some unknown reason (ie the reason being they were a giant asshole) and you had that moment where you thought to yourself "I'm never going to talk to them again, I should delete their number from my phone." I'm here to tell you, DON'T DO IT! You never know when they will show back up on your phone.
You'd think that after two years you wouldn't hear from someone anymore. I was wrong. Picture this: Boy emails girl on match.com, girl emails boy back. They chat for a week or so, exchange numbers so communication is easier, then they proceed to text almost daily for a couple of weeks. On a Tuesday, boy finally asks girl out for a date on Thursday. Girl says yes and asks where to meet him. Boy tells girl he will think of something awesome and let her know where to go. Girl gets excited. Thursday at 430pm as girl is getting ready to leave work in her totally cute/professional but still date appropriate outfit and she texts boy because she still has not heard where to go. By 8pm girl realizes she is not going to hear from boy and she grabs a glass of wine to make herself happy and she takes out her aggression on her vibrator. You don't need two people to have angry orgasms, sometimes you just need a bad day and a pocket vibrator. Saturday she hears from boy, "Hey! Got caught up at work this week, can we try something next week?" Ummmmmmmmm, what? You think its ok to not tell me you were cancelling on me, to make me wait around for you, and then to wait two days until you text me again and you don't even apologize!? Unless by "caught up at work" you mean you were in a 48 hr long surgery separating a pair of conjoined twins (is anyone else obsessed with watching Abby and Brittany on TLC?), or you were in a raid in Afghanistan, I'm pretty sure phones are available to communicate with someone! Oh, and did I mention that this "boy"sells phones for a living? Yes, that's right. He is a phone salesman...for a living!! I'm pretty sure that qualifies him as someone who knows how texting works. But, let's be honest, it's me and I'm forgiving (or stupid). So, I pulled back my anger/frustration and told him that I was free the following Wednesday. He said great and that he would make up for his mistake by making it great. Silly me, I trusted. I finally heard from boy about a week and a half later. I nicely blew him off and just stopped responding when he sent any messages.
Fast forward two years. I have a new phone (cause ya know, I get a new one all the time because I do things like drop them or wash them in the washing machine), and some of the numbers that I had on my old phone didn't transfer. Something silly like I saved them to the hard drive on the phone instead of Google. I don't know, it's technology, blah. Anywho, I received a text a few weeks ago from a number in my area code that said, "Hey good looking, how are you?" I had no idea who it was from, but I mean clearly they knew me because they realize my blantent sexiness! So I replied, "I'm great, how are you? Oh, and who is this?" When he replied with his name and an LOL, I immediatly thought of a friend I have with the same name. I got excited and said, "Oh hey neighbor! How are you, the wife, and the cutie pie baby?" I thought maybe this friend was having a party at their new house and they wanted to invite me over or something. I was wrong. The message back I received was "Hmmmm, I think you have the wrong person. This is "so and so" from match." I looked at my phone shocked and then laughed. There is no need to tell the play by play of the rest of the conversation (it went something like "I have been thinking about you, you're awesome, I was wondering what ever happened with us and why we never met" blah blah blah). I was polite, but I blew him off. I don't need to go down that road again.
Fast forward one week. My phone buzzes with a text message. "Hey, it's "blank" from Norwalk! I was going through my phone cleaning it out and thought I'd say hi!" You should know I used to refer to this guy as JP. If you're curious, it stands for Jesus Penis. My friends nicknamed him that because when we used to chat (over a year ago) he would act all religious and tell me he was off to his prayer group only to send me pictures of his dick later in the night. He was confusing. He would preach one minute then tell me he wanted to throw me against the wall with passion and jab me with his cock. Mind you, I never met this person. Not once. I know, I'm just as shocked as you are, but apparantly men will send penis pictures to anyone. Anthony Weiner is not alone. This was another "relationship" that quickly dwindled for obvious reasons. But here he was, resurfacing. I chose to kindly blow him off as well. Again, that is not a road I wanted to go down again. I didn't need more penis pictures. I have enough to start a photo album.
They say bad things come in 3's. While I will save the last part of my week for another story I can assure you it will be worth waiting for. I don't understand. Men, realationships, dating, I don't get any of it. Just when you think things are starting to make some sense, you have a month like I've had and your world is suddenly twirling like it was hit by a tornado. The scary part is, I'm pretty sure I'm learing to be like the Wicked Witch of the West, just riding my bike through the storm, unaffected. Have I completly lost touch if the winds affect me less and less? Or am I stronger and just able to pull through? I'm not sure which one I am, but I am sure I won't ever be deleting numbers from my phone.....you never know who will pop back up whether it be a random text or a penis pic.
And by lately I mean months.
Sometimes I find it hard to be humorous, other times I pee my pants a little because I can't stop laughing at my life. But don't worry, I've got vagina balls to help me on the latter. They are HUGE and scary, but I'm working on my kegels right now. Literally right now. I might pass out because apparantly I have trouble breathing while squeezing my vagina. You would think I pass out during sex a lot, but nope, I'm a champ.
Anyway, I haven't been laughing lately so I haven't written. I have been in one of those slumps where I find the things that happen to me depressing rather than amusing. Yesterday I cried. A lot. I was hurt, upset, confused, and just plain teary eyed most of the day. This morning I woke up with a tear stained pillow case and realized I had 2 choices: I could keep crying, or I could force myself to write...force myself to find the humor in the hand that I have been dealt...force myself to laugh at my luck in the hopes that someone would stumble upon my happy little blog and smile in the realization that they are not alone in the shithole of the dating world.
So here I am. Laughing and telling you about my last couple of weeks in singledom.
Have you ever stopped talking to someone for some unknown reason (ie the reason being they were a giant asshole) and you had that moment where you thought to yourself "I'm never going to talk to them again, I should delete their number from my phone." I'm here to tell you, DON'T DO IT! You never know when they will show back up on your phone.
You'd think that after two years you wouldn't hear from someone anymore. I was wrong. Picture this: Boy emails girl on match.com, girl emails boy back. They chat for a week or so, exchange numbers so communication is easier, then they proceed to text almost daily for a couple of weeks. On a Tuesday, boy finally asks girl out for a date on Thursday. Girl says yes and asks where to meet him. Boy tells girl he will think of something awesome and let her know where to go. Girl gets excited. Thursday at 430pm as girl is getting ready to leave work in her totally cute/professional but still date appropriate outfit and she texts boy because she still has not heard where to go. By 8pm girl realizes she is not going to hear from boy and she grabs a glass of wine to make herself happy and she takes out her aggression on her vibrator. You don't need two people to have angry orgasms, sometimes you just need a bad day and a pocket vibrator. Saturday she hears from boy, "Hey! Got caught up at work this week, can we try something next week?" Ummmmmmmmm, what? You think its ok to not tell me you were cancelling on me, to make me wait around for you, and then to wait two days until you text me again and you don't even apologize!? Unless by "caught up at work" you mean you were in a 48 hr long surgery separating a pair of conjoined twins (is anyone else obsessed with watching Abby and Brittany on TLC?), or you were in a raid in Afghanistan, I'm pretty sure phones are available to communicate with someone! Oh, and did I mention that this "boy"sells phones for a living? Yes, that's right. He is a phone salesman...for a living!! I'm pretty sure that qualifies him as someone who knows how texting works. But, let's be honest, it's me and I'm forgiving (or stupid). So, I pulled back my anger/frustration and told him that I was free the following Wednesday. He said great and that he would make up for his mistake by making it great. Silly me, I trusted. I finally heard from boy about a week and a half later. I nicely blew him off and just stopped responding when he sent any messages.
Fast forward two years. I have a new phone (cause ya know, I get a new one all the time because I do things like drop them or wash them in the washing machine), and some of the numbers that I had on my old phone didn't transfer. Something silly like I saved them to the hard drive on the phone instead of Google. I don't know, it's technology, blah. Anywho, I received a text a few weeks ago from a number in my area code that said, "Hey good looking, how are you?" I had no idea who it was from, but I mean clearly they knew me because they realize my blantent sexiness! So I replied, "I'm great, how are you? Oh, and who is this?" When he replied with his name and an LOL, I immediatly thought of a friend I have with the same name. I got excited and said, "Oh hey neighbor! How are you, the wife, and the cutie pie baby?" I thought maybe this friend was having a party at their new house and they wanted to invite me over or something. I was wrong. The message back I received was "Hmmmm, I think you have the wrong person. This is "so and so" from match." I looked at my phone shocked and then laughed. There is no need to tell the play by play of the rest of the conversation (it went something like "I have been thinking about you, you're awesome, I was wondering what ever happened with us and why we never met" blah blah blah). I was polite, but I blew him off. I don't need to go down that road again.
Fast forward one week. My phone buzzes with a text message. "Hey, it's "blank" from Norwalk! I was going through my phone cleaning it out and thought I'd say hi!" You should know I used to refer to this guy as JP. If you're curious, it stands for Jesus Penis. My friends nicknamed him that because when we used to chat (over a year ago) he would act all religious and tell me he was off to his prayer group only to send me pictures of his dick later in the night. He was confusing. He would preach one minute then tell me he wanted to throw me against the wall with passion and jab me with his cock. Mind you, I never met this person. Not once. I know, I'm just as shocked as you are, but apparantly men will send penis pictures to anyone. Anthony Weiner is not alone. This was another "relationship" that quickly dwindled for obvious reasons. But here he was, resurfacing. I chose to kindly blow him off as well. Again, that is not a road I wanted to go down again. I didn't need more penis pictures. I have enough to start a photo album.
They say bad things come in 3's. While I will save the last part of my week for another story I can assure you it will be worth waiting for. I don't understand. Men, realationships, dating, I don't get any of it. Just when you think things are starting to make some sense, you have a month like I've had and your world is suddenly twirling like it was hit by a tornado. The scary part is, I'm pretty sure I'm learing to be like the Wicked Witch of the West, just riding my bike through the storm, unaffected. Have I completly lost touch if the winds affect me less and less? Or am I stronger and just able to pull through? I'm not sure which one I am, but I am sure I won't ever be deleting numbers from my phone.....you never know who will pop back up whether it be a random text or a penis pic.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Whippings and floggings and canings OH MY! Why "kinky fuckery" has captured my mind.
I have lost count of the number of times I have masterbated in the last 4 days...I'm exhausted, excited, happy, weak, and wanting more. So much more.....just like Ana. The story being told in 50 Shades of Grey has completely captured my attention (any my libido for that matter). I'm aware that I have a very active sexual appetite, and if you have read anything I've written before you know this also. I'm horny. All the time. Reading this book however has taken me to a place so beyond horny that I am completely lost in pleasure and desire.
E L James has managed to tell a story that is sexy, scandalous, relatable and naughty. She has made thousands squirm in their beds as they read about kinky fuckery and wanting "more". Everyone is talking about this book and for those who don't get it, or even for those who do but are ashamed to say so, I'm here to explain why I think we are all falling for Christian Grey. There are two sides to this story: sex and love.....both perfectly entwined together.
Sex. So many thoughts come to mind when people mention this subject. There are two ends of the spectrum and everything in between. You have those who might not have a sexual need and those, like me, who think about it all the time. This book describes so many dark and twisted parts of sex that is has made readers shudder. I find it delightful. 50 Shades has opened the door for such a wonderfully naughty subject to be approached.
Sex should be beautiful, passionate, holy, soft, sacred, and slow. Sex should also be hot, sweaty, kinky, fun, hard, and fast. If you have ever been in a situation where you have gotten to experience "fucking" instead of "making love" then you know just how incredible it can be. I'm not here to say that all the pain described in this book is for everyone, because it's not. What is for everyone is the passionate display and carnal desire to be brought to the edge of something so glorious as an orgasm. I would bet on the fact that even those out there who are not as sexual as me have at one point in life considered what it would be like to be thrown onto a bed, tied to its posts, and brought to ecstasy. It's not about pain, or submission. It's about letting go of control, not having to think and just doing as your told. We try so hard in our lives to take the lead and be on top and in control that sometimes it would be nice to come home to a sexy man who would tell me exactly what to do and how he likes it. Knowing that you have pleased someone in that way is hot and can make you feel like a goddess. Sometimes something so wrong can turn into something so right. We have all woken up delightfully sore after a night of sensational sex. Is is so wrong to want a man say to you "Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I've been here"? Ana and Christian have given us sex to dream about and masterbate to.
Love. It is a common notion that women are attracted to the bad guy. "Nice guys" all over the world claim they come in last. As a single women who loves family time, church, AND hot sex I have struggled to find someone who appreciates all sides of me. I have found that I attract men who love the intellectual and family oriented girl, but I feel that I cannot be the sexual women I want to be with them. On the other hand there are those with whom I try to be myself and flirty and open about sex and they turn out to be the ones who want to call at midnight and come over but are soon gone before the sun rises. Where is the happy medium? Where is the man that I can run off to the boathouse with and let him take me in whatever way he sees fit before we walk back into my parents house to finish dinner? I want to make love, and I want to fuck. Is that so wrong?
I am a couple of chapters into the third book in the series and I am so happy and turned on. Ana has done what to this point I can only dream about...she has found someone who she can have both sides with. She has found both the bad boy and the nice guy all rolled into one sweet and sexy package. She can make love one minute and the next be cuffed and fucked. These books do not disgust me, or embarrass me. They give me hope that what has always seemed out of my reach might be possible. This is not your typical Disney or Hollywood fairytale. It is so much.....more.
E L James has managed to tell a story that is sexy, scandalous, relatable and naughty. She has made thousands squirm in their beds as they read about kinky fuckery and wanting "more". Everyone is talking about this book and for those who don't get it, or even for those who do but are ashamed to say so, I'm here to explain why I think we are all falling for Christian Grey. There are two sides to this story: sex and love.....both perfectly entwined together.
Sex. So many thoughts come to mind when people mention this subject. There are two ends of the spectrum and everything in between. You have those who might not have a sexual need and those, like me, who think about it all the time. This book describes so many dark and twisted parts of sex that is has made readers shudder. I find it delightful. 50 Shades has opened the door for such a wonderfully naughty subject to be approached.
Sex should be beautiful, passionate, holy, soft, sacred, and slow. Sex should also be hot, sweaty, kinky, fun, hard, and fast. If you have ever been in a situation where you have gotten to experience "fucking" instead of "making love" then you know just how incredible it can be. I'm not here to say that all the pain described in this book is for everyone, because it's not. What is for everyone is the passionate display and carnal desire to be brought to the edge of something so glorious as an orgasm. I would bet on the fact that even those out there who are not as sexual as me have at one point in life considered what it would be like to be thrown onto a bed, tied to its posts, and brought to ecstasy. It's not about pain, or submission. It's about letting go of control, not having to think and just doing as your told. We try so hard in our lives to take the lead and be on top and in control that sometimes it would be nice to come home to a sexy man who would tell me exactly what to do and how he likes it. Knowing that you have pleased someone in that way is hot and can make you feel like a goddess. Sometimes something so wrong can turn into something so right. We have all woken up delightfully sore after a night of sensational sex. Is is so wrong to want a man say to you "Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I've been here"? Ana and Christian have given us sex to dream about and masterbate to.
Love. It is a common notion that women are attracted to the bad guy. "Nice guys" all over the world claim they come in last. As a single women who loves family time, church, AND hot sex I have struggled to find someone who appreciates all sides of me. I have found that I attract men who love the intellectual and family oriented girl, but I feel that I cannot be the sexual women I want to be with them. On the other hand there are those with whom I try to be myself and flirty and open about sex and they turn out to be the ones who want to call at midnight and come over but are soon gone before the sun rises. Where is the happy medium? Where is the man that I can run off to the boathouse with and let him take me in whatever way he sees fit before we walk back into my parents house to finish dinner? I want to make love, and I want to fuck. Is that so wrong?
I am a couple of chapters into the third book in the series and I am so happy and turned on. Ana has done what to this point I can only dream about...she has found someone who she can have both sides with. She has found both the bad boy and the nice guy all rolled into one sweet and sexy package. She can make love one minute and the next be cuffed and fucked. These books do not disgust me, or embarrass me. They give me hope that what has always seemed out of my reach might be possible. This is not your typical Disney or Hollywood fairytale. It is so much.....more.
Monday, February 20, 2012
The year the Fire Department wished me a Happy Anniversary
This is something I wasn't sure I would ever do. I'm going to tell a story about my ex-husband. It's not that I am opposed to talking about what happened with us, anyone who knows me can tell you that if asked I will be as honest as possible. It's just that I never want to appear bitter, or like I'm that "crazy ex-wife" who bashes the person she chose to marry. Divorce is hard, divorce is scary, divorce (in my situation) is a culmination of choices made by two people who just didn't belong together. It's not entirely his fault, and it's not entirely mine. We both failed.
That being said, he did leave me with some great stories.
When I think of celebrating anniversaries I think of the typical romantic things: flowers (which die, so they are dumb even though they're a nice gesture), chocolates, jewelry, music, and candlelight dinners after which you clear the table and proceed to go at it right there in the middle of the dining room because you can't resist the passion and you have to rip your lovers clothes off. I know, I'm idealistic. What can I say, I'm a chick who loves romance AND naughty sex. Anywho, I wasn't married very long, but going into it I had high hopes. Let's just say that none of my anniversaries included chocolate or sex.
By my first anniversary I had already moved out for a trial run apart. By the second we had spent 8 months apart, 2 back together, then 4 more apart again. Seeing as how it was going so well, I was not excited about my ex insisting that we get together to celebrate. We were living in separate cities and I just didn't see the point. Have I ever mentioned that I'm a people pleaser? Well, I am. So, as you can imagine even in the face of separation and divorce I still did not want to upset this man that I married. I caved. He came up to visit and to take me out for a nice romantic evening.....
I remember being very nervous, which is weird considering this was a man whose name I shared. I got all dressed up (always trying to impress) and he came to get me. I know at the time I thought to myself "at least it can't possibly be as bad as last years celebration where I fell off a horse, rolled down a snow covered hill, hit my head on a rock, and got a concussion." I was wrong. It could get worse.
The night started by him wanting to run into the store real quick to get some gum. So we drove, parked, and I let him get his ever important pack of gum. That would prove to be our downfall. He jumped back into the car (or truck), put the vehicle in "drive" and started to quickly pull forward. BAM. Yep, you know those curb type things meant to keep a-holes from pulling forward into another spot that they sometimes/often have in parking lots? Well, we not only hit it, we ramped over it. We were now sitting with the front 2 tires over the curb. The conversation went something like this.
Me: Ummmmmmmm, ya, didn't you look to make sure you could pull forward before you actually just went and did it?
Him: No, I just assumed. It's okay though, we are in a truck, we can make it over.
Me: I really don't think that is a good idea, you might get a flat or worse, just put it in reverse and back up.
Him: No, we are high enough, this is a truck. Going forward will be the same as going back, it's fine.
Me: Ya, I don't think so. It's not like we are driving a tanker truck that is super high, just back up.
Him: *I know it all face* No.
Me: *Whatever face*
SCRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BUMP BUMP BUMP SSCCCRREEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHH
Me: Wow, that didn't sounds good, I'm pretty sure you just ruined the bottom of your truck.
Him: Probably just scratched, I think it's fine.
So, we continue to drive through the parking lot to get out to the street when we both smell gasoline. Bad. I beg him to stop the car so we can look into it. We get out of the car and realize that we ripped open the gas tank and were leaking gas everywhere around the lot. It was bad, and it smelled. He thinks we can just leave it, but me (being of super high intelligence) realize that if anyone had a spark around this area the whole complex would likely go up in flames. Quick spreading, gas started flames. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that called arson??? I'm way to cute to go to jail.
So, we get out a phone, call the fire department, and step into the only place that was serving food so that we could eat while we waited. We had no working car, were miles from my apartment, and I was hungry. Do you want to know where I ate my fancy Anniversary dinner? The Pizza Hut Buffet. Smelling like gasoline and regret. I ended up having to call my parents (who were out at a Christmas Party celebrating the Holidays like adults should) to come get me. It was awful. I had to explain what had happened and we were currently eating pizza and waiting for the fire department. Eventually after finishing dinner and sitting outside on the curb waiting, the police and fire department showed up. In the big red truck. Let me tell you, it's not glamorous explaining that your estranged husband is an idiot who doesn't listen while watching firemen laying kitty litter all over a strip mall.
By my 3rd Anniversary we hadn't spoken in months, and on my 4th Anniversary I got divorced. That's right, my Wedding Certificate and my Divorce Decree have the same date on them. 4 years to the day.
I keep telling myself that the moral of this story is things can only go up from here! Keep your chin up! Time will tell if that indeed pans out to be true.....so far, I'm not so sure. If I ever get to the point where I am celebrating Anniversaries with a man, I'm pretty sure I am going to plan on staying in with 911 ready to dial on my phone. Just in case, I mean, you never can be too careful.
That being said, he did leave me with some great stories.
When I think of celebrating anniversaries I think of the typical romantic things: flowers (which die, so they are dumb even though they're a nice gesture), chocolates, jewelry, music, and candlelight dinners after which you clear the table and proceed to go at it right there in the middle of the dining room because you can't resist the passion and you have to rip your lovers clothes off. I know, I'm idealistic. What can I say, I'm a chick who loves romance AND naughty sex. Anywho, I wasn't married very long, but going into it I had high hopes. Let's just say that none of my anniversaries included chocolate or sex.
By my first anniversary I had already moved out for a trial run apart. By the second we had spent 8 months apart, 2 back together, then 4 more apart again. Seeing as how it was going so well, I was not excited about my ex insisting that we get together to celebrate. We were living in separate cities and I just didn't see the point. Have I ever mentioned that I'm a people pleaser? Well, I am. So, as you can imagine even in the face of separation and divorce I still did not want to upset this man that I married. I caved. He came up to visit and to take me out for a nice romantic evening.....
I remember being very nervous, which is weird considering this was a man whose name I shared. I got all dressed up (always trying to impress) and he came to get me. I know at the time I thought to myself "at least it can't possibly be as bad as last years celebration where I fell off a horse, rolled down a snow covered hill, hit my head on a rock, and got a concussion." I was wrong. It could get worse.
The night started by him wanting to run into the store real quick to get some gum. So we drove, parked, and I let him get his ever important pack of gum. That would prove to be our downfall. He jumped back into the car (or truck), put the vehicle in "drive" and started to quickly pull forward. BAM. Yep, you know those curb type things meant to keep a-holes from pulling forward into another spot that they sometimes/often have in parking lots? Well, we not only hit it, we ramped over it. We were now sitting with the front 2 tires over the curb. The conversation went something like this.
Me: Ummmmmmmm, ya, didn't you look to make sure you could pull forward before you actually just went and did it?
Him: No, I just assumed. It's okay though, we are in a truck, we can make it over.
Me: I really don't think that is a good idea, you might get a flat or worse, just put it in reverse and back up.
Him: No, we are high enough, this is a truck. Going forward will be the same as going back, it's fine.
Me: Ya, I don't think so. It's not like we are driving a tanker truck that is super high, just back up.
Him: *I know it all face* No.
Me: *Whatever face*
SCRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BUMP BUMP BUMP SSCCCRREEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHH
Me: Wow, that didn't sounds good, I'm pretty sure you just ruined the bottom of your truck.
Him: Probably just scratched, I think it's fine.
So, we continue to drive through the parking lot to get out to the street when we both smell gasoline. Bad. I beg him to stop the car so we can look into it. We get out of the car and realize that we ripped open the gas tank and were leaking gas everywhere around the lot. It was bad, and it smelled. He thinks we can just leave it, but me (being of super high intelligence) realize that if anyone had a spark around this area the whole complex would likely go up in flames. Quick spreading, gas started flames. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that called arson??? I'm way to cute to go to jail.
So, we get out a phone, call the fire department, and step into the only place that was serving food so that we could eat while we waited. We had no working car, were miles from my apartment, and I was hungry. Do you want to know where I ate my fancy Anniversary dinner? The Pizza Hut Buffet. Smelling like gasoline and regret. I ended up having to call my parents (who were out at a Christmas Party celebrating the Holidays like adults should) to come get me. It was awful. I had to explain what had happened and we were currently eating pizza and waiting for the fire department. Eventually after finishing dinner and sitting outside on the curb waiting, the police and fire department showed up. In the big red truck. Let me tell you, it's not glamorous explaining that your estranged husband is an idiot who doesn't listen while watching firemen laying kitty litter all over a strip mall.
By my 3rd Anniversary we hadn't spoken in months, and on my 4th Anniversary I got divorced. That's right, my Wedding Certificate and my Divorce Decree have the same date on them. 4 years to the day.
I keep telling myself that the moral of this story is things can only go up from here! Keep your chin up! Time will tell if that indeed pans out to be true.....so far, I'm not so sure. If I ever get to the point where I am celebrating Anniversaries with a man, I'm pretty sure I am going to plan on staying in with 911 ready to dial on my phone. Just in case, I mean, you never can be too careful.
Friday, January 20, 2012
When are we too old for casual sex?
Casual sex.
The words themselves initiate immediate feelings from every person. Some instantly think slut. Some think oh fun! However you feel about it, casual sex is here to stay. It has to be noted that I do not consider myself slutty, whoreish, or any other term that means I sleep around. That is not the case. I don't. However, I am in the 30's and single and no matter how how I slice the pie (mmmmmm pie.....now I'm hungry. Ok, sorry, back on track.) I have needs. So my question is this: when do we become too old for sex without a relationship?
Most people go through their wild phase (which includes drinking, sex, parties) when they are in college or in their early 20's. It's no secret that I met my ex when I was 19 and was married at 23. I never had a wild phase. It's not that I regret my choices, because I wouldn't change them for anything, I just now find myself in a situation where I sometimes feel like I'm 20. I'm single, trying to date, going out to bars, and horny all the time. I mean, I should be like the women through the curtain at a circus "Pay to see the crazy horny woman! She is a rare breed and thinks about sex ALL THE TIME." I swear, I'm either a freak of nature or my "prime" is hitting me hard. It may be that I'm going through my prime sexual phase when for all intents and purposes I have no immediate access to the goods. You see, you always want what you can't have.
The problem for me is that I want it all the time. I also date, a lot. So I'm around attractive men but I'm not getting any action that makes my girly parts shiver. I meet people, go on dates, make them buy me dinner, and then usually within 3 dates it ends. Where does that get me????? I'll tell you. That gets me to Target to buy more batteries for B.O.B. (no, not a man named Bob---I wish---but my battery operated boyfriend). After a while not even batteries can work as my vibrator has broken. Over use. Awesome. So now, my choices are go to Ambiance and buy a new B.O.B., or find someone to sleep with. Consistently.
I have options on possible suitors but they each come with challenges. One, I really really want to be with for a long long time. He makes me smile in ways I forgot I could. I don't want to risk screwing anything up. But wow, do I want him. The other...well, I have mentioned being his oat. He is fun, handsome, sweet, charming, and wants nothing from me regarding a relationship. Am I wrong to want to sleep with him? Am I wrong that I have thought that until the guy I dream about all the time says he wants to be with me and only me it's ok that I get some nookie from somewhere else? Ugh. It's so hard (hehe, like a hard penis) to know what to do. See, I couldn't even get through that sentence without thinking about penis'! I have a problem!
I understand that sex is something that should be sacred and enjoyed with someone you love. But it should also be fun, and naughty, and exciting, and passionate, and beautiful, and glorious...why can't those things be shared with someone whose company you enjoy even though you know it will not go anywhere? Is 30-something too old to sleep with someone without a commitment when I know that deep down what I long for is a love to last a lifetime?
I have no moral or fun fact to spread this time as this was more of a "word vomit" session of me spewing my thoughts onto the internet. I'm not sure what I'll do, but until I figure it out looks like I better buy the 20 pack of batteries while I'm at Ambiance.
The words themselves initiate immediate feelings from every person. Some instantly think slut. Some think oh fun! However you feel about it, casual sex is here to stay. It has to be noted that I do not consider myself slutty, whoreish, or any other term that means I sleep around. That is not the case. I don't. However, I am in the 30's and single and no matter how how I slice the pie (mmmmmm pie.....now I'm hungry. Ok, sorry, back on track.) I have needs. So my question is this: when do we become too old for sex without a relationship?
Most people go through their wild phase (which includes drinking, sex, parties) when they are in college or in their early 20's. It's no secret that I met my ex when I was 19 and was married at 23. I never had a wild phase. It's not that I regret my choices, because I wouldn't change them for anything, I just now find myself in a situation where I sometimes feel like I'm 20. I'm single, trying to date, going out to bars, and horny all the time. I mean, I should be like the women through the curtain at a circus "Pay to see the crazy horny woman! She is a rare breed and thinks about sex ALL THE TIME." I swear, I'm either a freak of nature or my "prime" is hitting me hard. It may be that I'm going through my prime sexual phase when for all intents and purposes I have no immediate access to the goods. You see, you always want what you can't have.
The problem for me is that I want it all the time. I also date, a lot. So I'm around attractive men but I'm not getting any action that makes my girly parts shiver. I meet people, go on dates, make them buy me dinner, and then usually within 3 dates it ends. Where does that get me????? I'll tell you. That gets me to Target to buy more batteries for B.O.B. (no, not a man named Bob---I wish---but my battery operated boyfriend). After a while not even batteries can work as my vibrator has broken. Over use. Awesome. So now, my choices are go to Ambiance and buy a new B.O.B., or find someone to sleep with. Consistently.
I have options on possible suitors but they each come with challenges. One, I really really want to be with for a long long time. He makes me smile in ways I forgot I could. I don't want to risk screwing anything up. But wow, do I want him. The other...well, I have mentioned being his oat. He is fun, handsome, sweet, charming, and wants nothing from me regarding a relationship. Am I wrong to want to sleep with him? Am I wrong that I have thought that until the guy I dream about all the time says he wants to be with me and only me it's ok that I get some nookie from somewhere else? Ugh. It's so hard (hehe, like a hard penis) to know what to do. See, I couldn't even get through that sentence without thinking about penis'! I have a problem!
I understand that sex is something that should be sacred and enjoyed with someone you love. But it should also be fun, and naughty, and exciting, and passionate, and beautiful, and glorious...why can't those things be shared with someone whose company you enjoy even though you know it will not go anywhere? Is 30-something too old to sleep with someone without a commitment when I know that deep down what I long for is a love to last a lifetime?
I have no moral or fun fact to spread this time as this was more of a "word vomit" session of me spewing my thoughts onto the internet. I'm not sure what I'll do, but until I figure it out looks like I better buy the 20 pack of batteries while I'm at Ambiance.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
"Hey, remember that one time.....at your wedding....."
Dating is hard. Double dating is damn near impossible. It only gets worse when you have friends like mine.
I would like to start by making it clear that I love my friends. I am very blessed to have the people in my life that I do. It's just that sometimes you want look at those you love, douse their socks in GHB, and stuff them in their mouth until they pass out and can't talk anymore. Yes, this may be a harsh punishment, but I am in my 30's and single.....I need to make sure my dates don't get told things I don't want them to hear!
The prime example of a situation where I wanted to drug my friends into quietness happened a few years ago. I had been dating MAB for about a month and decided that I wanted him to start to meet those who were important to me. I didn't want to overwhelm him with a large group of everyone all at once, so I figured a nice dinner with another couple would be a great start. I set up a dinner with my friend (I'll call her Beauty Bitch) and her husband (Soccer Boy). It was Beauty Bitch's birthday so I thought it would be a fun night.
It did not go as planned.
I feel like at this point I should give you a little back story. If you have read my postings before you know that I was married. While I have yet to discuss that time in my life in detail, I have mentioned it. Well, when I began dating MAB I was still married. Now, hold on before you get out the Scarlet A's and sew them to my skin. I had been separated for 2.5 years. Yes, looking back I should have been quicker about filing for divorce and making it legal, but I was afraid. I didn't want to be 25 and divorced. I let the perceived stigma scare me from making a move. I lived in a different city from my ex, so when someone asked to set me up with MAB I decided I was ready to see what was out there for me. As you know, I fell hard. Maybe it was because MAB was the first person I dated since the separation, or maybe it was because MAB really was that fantastic. I'm not sure. What I do know is I liked him. A LOT. So, when we started seeing each other I wasn't exactly sure how to handle the whole "Hey, remember when I'm actually married" thing. My choice was to ignore it. Again, looking back, maybe not the best choice, but it's what I did. I figured until we had the talk about being serious it was information that I didn't need to bring up. We hadn't been together that long and had no talk of being boyfriend/girlfriend (ugh, I hate those terms, I mean it makes me feel 12 years old). So, when it came time for my double date with MAB, Beauty Bitch and Soccer Boy I made sure to tell the latter two not to mention that I was married. I politely told them that I had not discussed this part of my life yet with MAB and I would appreciate it if they didn't bring it up. I mean really, why would we be talking about that anyway? I was sure nothing would come up, I just am over casous.
I went into dinner feeling excited and nervous. I really wanted MAB to like these two, and vise versa. It was important to me. We got to the restaurant and the night went downhill. Fast. First of all, I was paying. It was tradition that I take my friend and hubby out for their birthdays to the restaurant of their choice. We usually pick a nice place with average dinner prices. Apparently the only times we had been to this restaurant in the past had been with our parents. AKA: when we didn't care about prices. Now, I am not cheap; however, I was thrown off knowing I was going to be paying for four people after I looked at the menu. Not my friends fault, they apologized for picking a pricey place and it really didn't bother me. It was just a surprising start to a rough night. After a glass of wine or two and some friendly "getting to know you" bonding moments things loosened up. I guess they loosened up too much because Soccer Boy forgot the rules about not mentioning me already belonging to another man and he blurts out "Oh, it was like that one time at your wedding....." I froze. Did he really just say that??? Maybe no one heard it??? I quickly gave him a dirty look that was meant to say ummmmm hey dude, remember when this hottie doesn't know I was married??? REMEMBER THE RULES?!?!?!
Soccer Boy clearly didn't get it. Moments later he again said something pertaining to me being married. I was mortified. At one point when MAB got up to go to the bathroom I almost leapt down Soccer Boy's throat. I thought he was going to shit his pants.....the look on his face was priceless. I knew he felt awful, but the damage had been done. We gracefully went on with the evening only to have Beauty Bitch insist I try part of her dinner which lucky for me had an ingredient in it that I was allergic to. Yes folks, not only were my friends trying to embarrass me, they were trying to have me killed off from asphyxiation too! Awesome first double date. I spent the rest of the evening with MAB drinking liquid Benadryl.
As it turns out, MAB was clearly confused and didn't make the connection of what Soccer Boy had said. He found out about the whole "being married" thing a couple days later when I had recovered from my Benadyl haze and we were visiting at my sisters. She had a wedding picture up of me. Subtle. No hiding from that. We discussed it and he laughed it off and just told me I was going to be paying for that one for a long time. I took that as good news because that meant we had a long time together to make me pay for it =) See, always an up side!
There are multiple morals to this story: 1) Obviously be honest with your dates or your friends will be for you (on purpose or not). 2) If you have the balls to double date, kicking under the table is acceptable when your friends fuck up. 3) Don't take yourself so seriously, if someone doesn't want to date you because of something from your past then it's their loss. I'm awesome, baggage and all!
I would like to start by making it clear that I love my friends. I am very blessed to have the people in my life that I do. It's just that sometimes you want look at those you love, douse their socks in GHB, and stuff them in their mouth until they pass out and can't talk anymore. Yes, this may be a harsh punishment, but I am in my 30's and single.....I need to make sure my dates don't get told things I don't want them to hear!
The prime example of a situation where I wanted to drug my friends into quietness happened a few years ago. I had been dating MAB for about a month and decided that I wanted him to start to meet those who were important to me. I didn't want to overwhelm him with a large group of everyone all at once, so I figured a nice dinner with another couple would be a great start. I set up a dinner with my friend (I'll call her Beauty Bitch) and her husband (Soccer Boy). It was Beauty Bitch's birthday so I thought it would be a fun night.
It did not go as planned.
I feel like at this point I should give you a little back story. If you have read my postings before you know that I was married. While I have yet to discuss that time in my life in detail, I have mentioned it. Well, when I began dating MAB I was still married. Now, hold on before you get out the Scarlet A's and sew them to my skin. I had been separated for 2.5 years. Yes, looking back I should have been quicker about filing for divorce and making it legal, but I was afraid. I didn't want to be 25 and divorced. I let the perceived stigma scare me from making a move. I lived in a different city from my ex, so when someone asked to set me up with MAB I decided I was ready to see what was out there for me. As you know, I fell hard. Maybe it was because MAB was the first person I dated since the separation, or maybe it was because MAB really was that fantastic. I'm not sure. What I do know is I liked him. A LOT. So, when we started seeing each other I wasn't exactly sure how to handle the whole "Hey, remember when I'm actually married" thing. My choice was to ignore it. Again, looking back, maybe not the best choice, but it's what I did. I figured until we had the talk about being serious it was information that I didn't need to bring up. We hadn't been together that long and had no talk of being boyfriend/girlfriend (ugh, I hate those terms, I mean it makes me feel 12 years old). So, when it came time for my double date with MAB, Beauty Bitch and Soccer Boy I made sure to tell the latter two not to mention that I was married. I politely told them that I had not discussed this part of my life yet with MAB and I would appreciate it if they didn't bring it up. I mean really, why would we be talking about that anyway? I was sure nothing would come up, I just am over casous.
I went into dinner feeling excited and nervous. I really wanted MAB to like these two, and vise versa. It was important to me. We got to the restaurant and the night went downhill. Fast. First of all, I was paying. It was tradition that I take my friend and hubby out for their birthdays to the restaurant of their choice. We usually pick a nice place with average dinner prices. Apparently the only times we had been to this restaurant in the past had been with our parents. AKA: when we didn't care about prices. Now, I am not cheap; however, I was thrown off knowing I was going to be paying for four people after I looked at the menu. Not my friends fault, they apologized for picking a pricey place and it really didn't bother me. It was just a surprising start to a rough night. After a glass of wine or two and some friendly "getting to know you" bonding moments things loosened up. I guess they loosened up too much because Soccer Boy forgot the rules about not mentioning me already belonging to another man and he blurts out "Oh, it was like that one time at your wedding....." I froze. Did he really just say that??? Maybe no one heard it??? I quickly gave him a dirty look that was meant to say ummmmm hey dude, remember when this hottie doesn't know I was married??? REMEMBER THE RULES?!?!?!
Soccer Boy clearly didn't get it. Moments later he again said something pertaining to me being married. I was mortified. At one point when MAB got up to go to the bathroom I almost leapt down Soccer Boy's throat. I thought he was going to shit his pants.....the look on his face was priceless. I knew he felt awful, but the damage had been done. We gracefully went on with the evening only to have Beauty Bitch insist I try part of her dinner which lucky for me had an ingredient in it that I was allergic to. Yes folks, not only were my friends trying to embarrass me, they were trying to have me killed off from asphyxiation too! Awesome first double date. I spent the rest of the evening with MAB drinking liquid Benadryl.
As it turns out, MAB was clearly confused and didn't make the connection of what Soccer Boy had said. He found out about the whole "being married" thing a couple days later when I had recovered from my Benadyl haze and we were visiting at my sisters. She had a wedding picture up of me. Subtle. No hiding from that. We discussed it and he laughed it off and just told me I was going to be paying for that one for a long time. I took that as good news because that meant we had a long time together to make me pay for it =) See, always an up side!
There are multiple morals to this story: 1) Obviously be honest with your dates or your friends will be for you (on purpose or not). 2) If you have the balls to double date, kicking under the table is acceptable when your friends fuck up. 3) Don't take yourself so seriously, if someone doesn't want to date you because of something from your past then it's their loss. I'm awesome, baggage and all!
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