So, I haven't written lately. Holiday time for this single chick is rough. I got married in December.....I got divorced in December.....my birthday is in December. Each year that passes where I'm left still single reminds me that thousands more eggs have dissappeared from my body. Did you know that by the time you are 30, 90% of your eggs are gone? So ya, I'm basically left in my mid thirties with only janky old eggs left. Should I place my order for "The Crazy Cat Lady Kit" and call it a day? Maybe. Should I go to Ambiance and get a new vibrator and celebrate being able to make myself cum quickly as opposed to having to wait for a man to figure out how to do it for me? Definitly.
So, in the spirit of letting you know that some days I'm super glad I can errrrrr "do it for myself", I decided to tell a story of one experience where I really wish I had spent my birthday alone with my B.O.B.
A few years back I was dating someone who I would call emotional and needy. Actually, I'm pretty sure that's putting it lightly. He was kind of a mess, but I like projects and fixing things, so I thought it would work out great. Don't get me wrong, he was a lovely person and someday he will find someone who is right for him, it's just that the someone was not me. I'm pretty sure even he knew it wasn't me because when we were having birthday sex one night he decided to call me Sarah. Yes, I know most of the people reading this don't know my name, but I can assure you it is not Sarah. Nor does it sounds anything like Sarah. So, anyway, there I am laying with my legs in the air pretty confident my boyfriend had just called me the name of his baby mama. I wasn't completly sure I heard correctly because it was one of the few times I was moaning (I'm generally awkwardly quiet during sex, it's something I'm working on). Anyway, even though I wasn't completly sure, I had totally lost my lady boner. He on the other hand continued on babbling random things and moving on like nothing happened. Thank God he was just about finished when he said it and I was able to quickly put my clothes on and escape to the bathroom. I washed my face, and then met him downstairs where he was all set to give me my birthday gift. As if calling me the wrong name wasn't a gift enough!
Anyway, as I was opening the gift I couldn't stop myself from asking what had just happened. I bluntly said, "Did you call me Sarah when you were climaxing?" His face went pale and just when I thoguht we was going to vomit he looked me right in the eye and said, "No! I said sweetie." I knew he was lying, he knew he was lying, if the stupid NintendoDS he was giving me for my birthday had a lie detector test on it he would have failed. I just sat there, and asked again. This time with tears welling up in his eyes he admitted to the mistake. I asked him to leave. He cried. I told him it was my birthday and I didn't want him around for it. He cried. He begged for forgiveness, I threw him out of the house. Maybe Sarah would forgive him, but not this chick. Funny thing is, that is one of only a very small handfull of birthday's that I have had a boyfriend. I have very low expectations for my birthday for many reasons, you basically just have to remember it's my birthday and I'll get on my knees. But even I want to be called by my name.
Truth: I didn't even masterbate this year on my birthday. Me, not masterbate! I know, crazytown, right? I lost the drive to get myself off. HAHAHAHA jk That will never happen. But while this year I didn't get to ring in the new year with a bang (literally) at least I was with people who all knew my name, and for that I'm eternally grateful.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Monday, September 24, 2012
It's what I imagine kissing a bulldog would be like
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.
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.
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.
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