If I had a dollar for every time I have been hit on or pursued by someone who has either a wife or a serious girlfriend I would have.....well, probably only like $8. But still, that is more than I should be able to collect. This got me thinking, do we always want what we can't have?
It is human nature to think that someone always has it better. We are always striving for more and just when we think we might be content we see something else we want. Just as I settle in to my newest Coach bag, I see a friend with a Louis and I'm like "Dammit, that looks way better!" When it comes to dating, this part of our nature makes things tricky. Some of us are blinded and never know who might be coming after us.
I'm single. Whoa, I know I just threw some brand new information at you. (Please tell me that someone said that in their best Phoebe voice?) Anyway, as a single person I guess I assume that when I am out and meeting new people I will be flirted with by other single people. If you are going to ask me out then I am going to assume you don't have a significant other. This is apparently my first big mistake in dating. I know I have talked about this craziness before, but apparently it's still happening.
I met a gentleman a few months back through work. He came into my office to sell some shit, I told him I didn't want anything and graciously told him not to bother coming back. Problem was, he was cute, so I secretly did want him to come back even though I didn't want what he was selling. At the time I couldn't think of a work appropriate to say, "I don't want to buy your product, but if you are selling yourself I'll put in a bid" so I let him walk out. A couple of months later, he came back. We chatted, maybe even flirted a little, and then I told him that I still didn't want his stuff. A few more weeks later we emailed, flirted more, exchanged numbers, and he asked me to lunch. We had a lovely yet slightly awkward "business" lunch where we were trying to gauge if the other thought the meal was more for business or pleasure. When afterward he texted me that I had smelled nice, I figured that it had been a pleasure lunch. I gave myself a pat on the back and smiled because a good date is worth smiling for. I had my reservations, but I always like to give people a chance. Besides, being told I smell good is like an instant turn on for me. I'm a smell person, I like to smell good and if a man smells good I immediately start to drip.
We started chatting regularly.....if Monday through Friday 8-5 was considered regular. What I mean by that is that I never heard from him outside of work hours. I thought it was strange, but he did have kids so I was optimistic (again, optimism is always my downfall) that maybe he wanted to spend his nights and weekends uninterrupted with them. Our workday chats were getting more flirty each day and since we could not find a night we were both free we planned to have another lunch. This time there was no question in my mind that it was a date and not a business lunch. We flirted the whole way through, and had he not had to drop me back off at my office I am completely confident that we would have made out in the car. There is something about making out right out side your bosses window that puts a damper on one's libido. The Holiday's were coming up at this point so we both got busy but planned on seeing each other soon. Then he stopped talking to me. I let it fade because let's be honest, I'm tired of chasing people and He's Just Not That Into You made it very clear that if a guy wanted to see me he would make the effort. So it faded out. Or so I thought.
Last week he randomly asked me to lunch. I was busy and didn't really see the point so I politely backed out. Yesterday he asked me to meet him for a drink. Again, I was busy and it was last minute so I said no. I could have left it at that, but I was really curious as to why after two months I was now hearing from this person. I had long ago come to the conclusion that he was still married and spent his nights and weekends playing monopoly with his lovely wife and kids. I mean, after all, that would explain the no night or weekend texts and the sudden disappearance. In my mind he had just decided that he didn't want to cheat once he took notice that I was not "the other woman" type of girl. Did I let my imagination run away with the excuses I made up for him? Probably, but that's what we women do. We make things up to help us feel better about why some guy decided to stop talking to us. So anyway, I decided to ask him why he wanted to take me out. I'm pretty sure he was shocked by my question but he replied with a string of compliments about me and then said he enjoyed my company. He was curious as to why I asked my question. I politely told him that it was my experience that when you don't hear from someone for weeks that it was because they had blown you off. This is where it got interesting. He replied "No, I am not blowing you off at all! But if I am being honest I have been seeing someone and it recently has become serious so that does put a little bit of a wrinkle in things."
A WRINKLE IN THINGS??? First of all, there isn't anything to put a wrinkle in. Second of all, an hour ago you asked me to meet you for drinks?!? Maybe I'm dumb, but "serious relationship" doesn't usually mean "have drinks with another woman." There were multiple questions running through my mind, but instead of asking I just ended the conversation. What good was it going to do me to find out why he wanted to take me out when he had just gotten serious with someone else.
Have you ever gone car shopping and in the back of your mind even though you ended up buying the Lincoln MKX you secretly wanted the Mercedes? Then one day you drive by the Mercedes dealership and think to yourself, "What the hell, I can take the ML350 for a quick ride." I am the Mercedes in this scenario. I didn't get purchased, but somehow those who aren't even looking for something new think its okay to take me for a test drive. Problem is, I don't want to be test driven, I want to be bought. I don't want to be the car you keep thinking about in the back of your mind that every now and then you run to for a quick ride. This is the problem with men I come in contact with. They all own Lincoln's, and they don't realize that they can't afford to have both cars.
For now, this Mercedes is going to get detailed and continue to look like the best thing on the lot. One of these days someone is going to be shopping for exactly what I have to offer.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Friday, February 8, 2013
Ummmmm, did that noise come from me?
So, this past weekend was the Super Bowl Even though I love sports, I have a sinking feeling that it will be a long time before my team ever has a chance to be at this event so I never really get that into it. For me Super Bowl Sunday should be a great 10 minute concert with some football and good commercials mixed in. Since this year Beyonce was the halftime show, I had to count on the commercials as my source of entertainment.
In comes GoDaddy.com Now, I know the whole world is a buzz with talk of "Holy cow that nerd Walter got to make out with Bar Rafaeli!" Why is no one saying "Ewwwwwww, all I hear is kissing noises." While everyone was staring at the commercial, I was listening. And I was disturbed. If you have read anything I have ever written, you know I love to make out. If I'm alone with you for more than a couple of hours, chances are I have studied your lips and thought about how it would be to kiss you. 70% of the time I will have tried to find out within that same time frame. What really freaks me out about kissing though, is the noises that go with it. I hate the sound lips make when they separate. I hate the suction noise that comes when you have your mouth slightly opened and you pull away. Don't even get me started on saliva noises. Just...eew. The problem is, I have really sensitive ears and when I hear all the racket that goes on with kissing I can't focus on what I'm doing. I get distracted so I need someone who can keep me focused, or help me get so lost I don't care. This takes a special person and has only happened to me a couple of times in my life.
Sometimes, kissing leads to other things. When it starts to progress, this is where I wish my life were a Rom Com. In a movie, this is the point where either the perfect love song or the perfect hot steamy sex song would start to play (depending on the circumstances obviously). In my movie, Channing Tatum (or someone equally as good looking in uniform) leads me down my hallway then grabs my hips and lifts me up to his waist while simultaneously pushing my back to the wall and running his lips down my neck. The whole time this is happening Marc Broussard's The Beauty of Who You Are is rising in volume to the heat of our passion. As I'm carried to my bedroom and thrown onto my bed, the music continues with some Kings of Leon and into my perfect "sex mixed tape". Alas, my life is not a movie and my night in shining armor has yet to climax with me to the voice of Matt Nathanson.
Instead of beautiful music playing, most of the world has to settle for whatever noise is happening in the world at the moment you decide to take your clothes off. I know I can't be the only person who wants there to be background noise so that the noises that accompany sex can be drowned out. I may not be in the best shape in the world, but even if you are Heidi Klum, there are moments during sex where one might think a seal is clapping for you in the corner. It happens. Bodies get sweaty, people slide around, skin rubs things, it gets noisy. I'm not going to deny the fact that my body has made noises I have prayed I never hear again.
I think the lesson here is simple: install a motion detected surround sound system that will always play your perfect sex playlist when you cross the threshold into your bedroom. Worst case scenario, every night when you enter your room to go to sleep the music starts and you are reminded you are single and alone. But trust me, all those nights having to turn the music off will be worth it when it finally plays out the way you have it scripted in your head. And when it does finally happen, maybe the seal will still be clapping, but you won't hear him because you will be listening to yourself breathe to the beat of James Morrison.
In comes GoDaddy.com Now, I know the whole world is a buzz with talk of "Holy cow that nerd Walter got to make out with Bar Rafaeli!" Why is no one saying "Ewwwwwww, all I hear is kissing noises." While everyone was staring at the commercial, I was listening. And I was disturbed. If you have read anything I have ever written, you know I love to make out. If I'm alone with you for more than a couple of hours, chances are I have studied your lips and thought about how it would be to kiss you. 70% of the time I will have tried to find out within that same time frame. What really freaks me out about kissing though, is the noises that go with it. I hate the sound lips make when they separate. I hate the suction noise that comes when you have your mouth slightly opened and you pull away. Don't even get me started on saliva noises. Just...eew. The problem is, I have really sensitive ears and when I hear all the racket that goes on with kissing I can't focus on what I'm doing. I get distracted so I need someone who can keep me focused, or help me get so lost I don't care. This takes a special person and has only happened to me a couple of times in my life.
Sometimes, kissing leads to other things. When it starts to progress, this is where I wish my life were a Rom Com. In a movie, this is the point where either the perfect love song or the perfect hot steamy sex song would start to play (depending on the circumstances obviously). In my movie, Channing Tatum (or someone equally as good looking in uniform) leads me down my hallway then grabs my hips and lifts me up to his waist while simultaneously pushing my back to the wall and running his lips down my neck. The whole time this is happening Marc Broussard's The Beauty of Who You Are is rising in volume to the heat of our passion. As I'm carried to my bedroom and thrown onto my bed, the music continues with some Kings of Leon and into my perfect "sex mixed tape". Alas, my life is not a movie and my night in shining armor has yet to climax with me to the voice of Matt Nathanson.
Instead of beautiful music playing, most of the world has to settle for whatever noise is happening in the world at the moment you decide to take your clothes off. I know I can't be the only person who wants there to be background noise so that the noises that accompany sex can be drowned out. I may not be in the best shape in the world, but even if you are Heidi Klum, there are moments during sex where one might think a seal is clapping for you in the corner. It happens. Bodies get sweaty, people slide around, skin rubs things, it gets noisy. I'm not going to deny the fact that my body has made noises I have prayed I never hear again.
I think the lesson here is simple: install a motion detected surround sound system that will always play your perfect sex playlist when you cross the threshold into your bedroom. Worst case scenario, every night when you enter your room to go to sleep the music starts and you are reminded you are single and alone. But trust me, all those nights having to turn the music off will be worth it when it finally plays out the way you have it scripted in your head. And when it does finally happen, maybe the seal will still be clapping, but you won't hear him because you will be listening to yourself breathe to the beat of James Morrison.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Say my name say my name
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.
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, 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.
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!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
I don't want to be an oat.
I'm in my 30's. I'm dating. My dream is to settle down and come home to the same person every night and have crazy, wild, passionate sex. I will not deny that I am a sexual person, that would be like Angelina Jolie denying she is a little bit crazy (I mean she used to wear Billy Bob Thorton's blood around her neck! Creepy!) Anyway, that is what I want, therefore that is what I am searching for.
Now, the men I have been dating as of late are all a little bit older than me and divorced. I am not judging as I myself had a failed marriage. I just feel as though women and men think differently after a divorce. I wanted to be with someone, I wanted the comfort of holding someone. Before I had even signed papers I was involved with MAB. For the time, he gave me what I needed. Yes, I ended up getting my heart broke more than it had ever been, but I was ready for him and I gave in. I get the feeling from one of the men I have gone out with recently that he is not looking to be with someone but instead wanting to "sew some wild oats." He was married for what I consider a lengthy time and has some kids to show for it. I believe this man feels as though he was held back in his previous relationship and he now wants to make up for it by getting a little bit crazy. He has made a "bucket list" if you will of things he would like to do now that he is free. I don't want to be on that list. I don't want to be something he "does" now that he can. I don't want to be an oat.
The question is this: How do I know if I am becoming an oat?
There is no question that I doubt almost everything when it comes to relationships. A) I'm female and we over analyze and B) I have been hurt, so I am always thinking that I am being lied to or that people have an ulterior motive. It's not fair, I know that. I try very hard to start each new relationship forgetting how damaged my little heart is (little because I'm small, not because there is not any love it in.....just wanted to clarify). I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and assume that they are sincere and not just wanting to....well, for lack of a nicer way to put it.....bang me. Hiding my sexual side from dates is something I cannot do. I don't lie about who I am, and while I try to hold back, sometimes I can't help but ooze sex. I am pretty sure it's because I'm not getting any, but it is always on my mind. My fear then becomes when those I'm dating see that I am flirty, sexual, and fun they will take advantage of that and make me an oat. They might forget that I am also the girl who likes to be giggly and play and be serious and sweet. Men hear sex and it's all that is on their mind. They forget there is more to me.....or at least I think some of them might. When things are going well and I am hearing all the things a girl loves to hear, I assume I am being fed lines. I mean, this is what history has told me. I believe someone until I think they are legit, I give in to my naughty mind, then we never speak again. It's a super awesome plan that is the opposite of fool proof =)
With this particular person things are going well. Yes, there might be someone else who takes up my thoughts constantly and who I am also trying to ride the waves of uncertainty with, but this guy (who in case there are future stories I shall name him RRC) is the one who scares me. He is almost too nice. He tries too hard. He does everything right. I still feel like his oat.
It is at this point I have two paths I can take. I can ignore my gut instincts and carry on with dating him to see where it goes. I can let him prove me wrong. Or, I can follow my intuition, cut him off, and only try to date the man with whom I have a little more history and background on. It is so confusing!!!
I made a joke the other day to some of my friends that my dating life has become like a bad joke. A cop, a DEA Agent, and a Canadian walk into a bar.....who gets the girl?
Stay tuned to see what decisions I make and who wins out. Who knows, maybe it will be none of the above and come next summer/fall I will have found a traveler who carries my heart away ;-)
No matter what happens, I refuse to be an oat.
Now, the men I have been dating as of late are all a little bit older than me and divorced. I am not judging as I myself had a failed marriage. I just feel as though women and men think differently after a divorce. I wanted to be with someone, I wanted the comfort of holding someone. Before I had even signed papers I was involved with MAB. For the time, he gave me what I needed. Yes, I ended up getting my heart broke more than it had ever been, but I was ready for him and I gave in. I get the feeling from one of the men I have gone out with recently that he is not looking to be with someone but instead wanting to "sew some wild oats." He was married for what I consider a lengthy time and has some kids to show for it. I believe this man feels as though he was held back in his previous relationship and he now wants to make up for it by getting a little bit crazy. He has made a "bucket list" if you will of things he would like to do now that he is free. I don't want to be on that list. I don't want to be something he "does" now that he can. I don't want to be an oat.
The question is this: How do I know if I am becoming an oat?
There is no question that I doubt almost everything when it comes to relationships. A) I'm female and we over analyze and B) I have been hurt, so I am always thinking that I am being lied to or that people have an ulterior motive. It's not fair, I know that. I try very hard to start each new relationship forgetting how damaged my little heart is (little because I'm small, not because there is not any love it in.....just wanted to clarify). I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and assume that they are sincere and not just wanting to....well, for lack of a nicer way to put it.....bang me. Hiding my sexual side from dates is something I cannot do. I don't lie about who I am, and while I try to hold back, sometimes I can't help but ooze sex. I am pretty sure it's because I'm not getting any, but it is always on my mind. My fear then becomes when those I'm dating see that I am flirty, sexual, and fun they will take advantage of that and make me an oat. They might forget that I am also the girl who likes to be giggly and play and be serious and sweet. Men hear sex and it's all that is on their mind. They forget there is more to me.....or at least I think some of them might. When things are going well and I am hearing all the things a girl loves to hear, I assume I am being fed lines. I mean, this is what history has told me. I believe someone until I think they are legit, I give in to my naughty mind, then we never speak again. It's a super awesome plan that is the opposite of fool proof =)
With this particular person things are going well. Yes, there might be someone else who takes up my thoughts constantly and who I am also trying to ride the waves of uncertainty with, but this guy (who in case there are future stories I shall name him RRC) is the one who scares me. He is almost too nice. He tries too hard. He does everything right. I still feel like his oat.
It is at this point I have two paths I can take. I can ignore my gut instincts and carry on with dating him to see where it goes. I can let him prove me wrong. Or, I can follow my intuition, cut him off, and only try to date the man with whom I have a little more history and background on. It is so confusing!!!
I made a joke the other day to some of my friends that my dating life has become like a bad joke. A cop, a DEA Agent, and a Canadian walk into a bar.....who gets the girl?
Stay tuned to see what decisions I make and who wins out. Who knows, maybe it will be none of the above and come next summer/fall I will have found a traveler who carries my heart away ;-)
No matter what happens, I refuse to be an oat.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Shamless Self Promotion
For anyone who wants to follow me on Facebook or Twitter, please do so and reccomend your friends do the same! Thanks!!!
Twitter: @DatingNTheBurbs
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Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Some weekends make you ask WTF???
This past weekend got nuts. What started as a nice Friday night with my favorite vampire (hello Breaking Dawn Part 1!) ended with me looking at my friend and asking "How did this weekend happen?"
I had a date-ish planned for Saturday night. Yes, I meant to say "ish." I was not really counting it because my counterpart was from far away.....isn't there a rule about if you are in a different zip code it doesn't count? Oh, wait, maybe that is just for sex and cheating? I'm not really sure. Either way, I wasn't counting it as a full fledged date. We met, we drank, we fooled around, we drank, we danced, we snuggled, we slept. 12 hours of bliss. His yummy accent only made it that much better. We said our good morning's and planned to meet later in the day to hang out before he went far away again.
I quickly drove home, reluctantly washed his delicious smell off me (TMI.....sorry.....shit, no, I'm not sorry, I like the way boys smell and I'm not ashamed of that), and I got dressed for some football! After I grabbed a friend we headed to a bar for some pre-gaming. In case you are not a football fan, this usually includes rowdy drunk people at 10am. It's great. While at the bar some fellows started talking to myself and my friend. Now, I hesitate to say they were flirting because I am a TERRIBLE judge at that since I just assume everyone is ultra nice and just being conversational, but an outsider might say that we were getting hit on. Oh wait, an outsider actually did assume we were being hit on....he actually assumed one of the men was my boyfriend and backed away sheepishly when he got yelled at for trying to steal me away. I almost started a bar fight y'all! Once I informed the 2nd gentleman that the 1st was not in fact my boyfriend but just some guy who I had literally just met who was buying me drinks he decided he would fight the fight and try to steal me. He won. We ended up talking, laughing, drinking a little, then enjoying some football together. After giving him my digits, I had to leave him stranded because I was supposed to meet my date from the night before to watch some more football. Yes people, this actually happened to me. I had to make up an excuse to leave one hottie to go hang out with another hottie! REALLY? When am I EVER this popular!?!?!?! While watching the game with my date from Saturday, I received some texts from the new guy. I mean, my pheromones must have been on fire this Sunday, everyone wanted me!
When the game was over I very sadly said goodbye to my hottie with an accent. Ugh. Good-bye's SUCK. As I was sulking from my good-bye while at the same time reliving the excitement of being a hot commodity among the men of the day, I saw someone I did not want to see. You might remember the guy who prompted me to write this post about men having no balls. He was example A, and as it turns out was not getting together with me all those months because HE HAD A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! Yep, that's right. Again, I'm attractive to those who are taken. Mind you, his GF status did not stop him from texting me all the time, telling me he wanted me, and saying he wished he was single. So, as I'm walking around I see him....with his GF. Awesome. I send him a texty text (How I Met Your Mother reference) and said something that made it known I could see him. He replied in a panicked "Oh shit, where are you?" After a couple messages he asked me to rescue him. I replied with a sassy "I didn't know you were being held hostage.....grow a pair and rescue yourself." I mean really, I can't help you get out of a situation you do not want to be in, you have to be man enough to get out yourself. Besides, I want a real man, someone who isn't afraid to go after what they want. This guy is clearly still a boy....either he is lying to me about wanting to be with me because he thinks he can keep me hanging on, or he is lying to his longtime GF about wanting to be with her. He can't have both. I made it easy, I let go.
This weekend while unexpected was amazing. I remembered something that I have actually always known. Confidence is sexy. I have been lacking some confidence lately. You get knocked down enough in this crazy world of dating that you forget just how awesome you are as an individual. You let it get to you, you let it affect everything about you, you forget to be you. This weekend, I remembered. I am sure nothing will come of any of the relationships I worked on this weekend, but I don't care. It doesn't matter because in the time span of 36 hours I remembered who I am, why I'm awesome, and why some man is going to be very lucky to have me some day. After all, who wouldn't want a chick who loves to be naughty when appropriate but is still someone you can count on to always offer a smile to help you get by.
Lesson learned this week: I'm a hell of a catch.
I had a date-ish planned for Saturday night. Yes, I meant to say "ish." I was not really counting it because my counterpart was from far away.....isn't there a rule about if you are in a different zip code it doesn't count? Oh, wait, maybe that is just for sex and cheating? I'm not really sure. Either way, I wasn't counting it as a full fledged date. We met, we drank, we fooled around, we drank, we danced, we snuggled, we slept. 12 hours of bliss. His yummy accent only made it that much better. We said our good morning's and planned to meet later in the day to hang out before he went far away again.
I quickly drove home, reluctantly washed his delicious smell off me (TMI.....sorry.....shit, no, I'm not sorry, I like the way boys smell and I'm not ashamed of that), and I got dressed for some football! After I grabbed a friend we headed to a bar for some pre-gaming. In case you are not a football fan, this usually includes rowdy drunk people at 10am. It's great. While at the bar some fellows started talking to myself and my friend. Now, I hesitate to say they were flirting because I am a TERRIBLE judge at that since I just assume everyone is ultra nice and just being conversational, but an outsider might say that we were getting hit on. Oh wait, an outsider actually did assume we were being hit on....he actually assumed one of the men was my boyfriend and backed away sheepishly when he got yelled at for trying to steal me away. I almost started a bar fight y'all! Once I informed the 2nd gentleman that the 1st was not in fact my boyfriend but just some guy who I had literally just met who was buying me drinks he decided he would fight the fight and try to steal me. He won. We ended up talking, laughing, drinking a little, then enjoying some football together. After giving him my digits, I had to leave him stranded because I was supposed to meet my date from the night before to watch some more football. Yes people, this actually happened to me. I had to make up an excuse to leave one hottie to go hang out with another hottie! REALLY? When am I EVER this popular!?!?!?! While watching the game with my date from Saturday, I received some texts from the new guy. I mean, my pheromones must have been on fire this Sunday, everyone wanted me!
When the game was over I very sadly said goodbye to my hottie with an accent. Ugh. Good-bye's SUCK. As I was sulking from my good-bye while at the same time reliving the excitement of being a hot commodity among the men of the day, I saw someone I did not want to see. You might remember the guy who prompted me to write this post about men having no balls. He was example A, and as it turns out was not getting together with me all those months because HE HAD A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! Yep, that's right. Again, I'm attractive to those who are taken. Mind you, his GF status did not stop him from texting me all the time, telling me he wanted me, and saying he wished he was single. So, as I'm walking around I see him....with his GF. Awesome. I send him a texty text (How I Met Your Mother reference) and said something that made it known I could see him. He replied in a panicked "Oh shit, where are you?" After a couple messages he asked me to rescue him. I replied with a sassy "I didn't know you were being held hostage.....grow a pair and rescue yourself." I mean really, I can't help you get out of a situation you do not want to be in, you have to be man enough to get out yourself. Besides, I want a real man, someone who isn't afraid to go after what they want. This guy is clearly still a boy....either he is lying to me about wanting to be with me because he thinks he can keep me hanging on, or he is lying to his longtime GF about wanting to be with her. He can't have both. I made it easy, I let go.
This weekend while unexpected was amazing. I remembered something that I have actually always known. Confidence is sexy. I have been lacking some confidence lately. You get knocked down enough in this crazy world of dating that you forget just how awesome you are as an individual. You let it get to you, you let it affect everything about you, you forget to be you. This weekend, I remembered. I am sure nothing will come of any of the relationships I worked on this weekend, but I don't care. It doesn't matter because in the time span of 36 hours I remembered who I am, why I'm awesome, and why some man is going to be very lucky to have me some day. After all, who wouldn't want a chick who loves to be naughty when appropriate but is still someone you can count on to always offer a smile to help you get by.
Lesson learned this week: I'm a hell of a catch.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Halloween is the Superbowl for Drinking
I love Happy Endings (and not just the TV show hehe). I mean for reals y'all, that show is amazeballs.
This past week there was one line in the show that really stood out to me. I didn't necessarily notice it at the time, but after my Halloween night out came and went (with a couple minor falls, some harmless face to face flirting, and an expensive international texting phone bill) I remembered what was said on Happy Endings "Halloween is the Superbowl for drinking." My Saturday night proved that statement to be true.
Now, don't get me wrong, I have been known to get a little crazy from time to time (I have pictures in a blue inner tube while walking around town to prove it), but in general I keep my drinking very controlled. I get to my happy place and stay there. I like the happy place. Three drinks in and I'm louder than normal (shocking), slightly more touchy (again, shocking since I'm super touchy to begin with), and I'm super fun (this is an obvious statement). Saturday night I was in my happy place. I can't say the same for the people at the other end of my texting line.....they seemed to be beyond a happy place. It was awesome. I heard from a multitude of men whom I have either gone out with once, a couple times, or even had some sort of dating relationship with. I will not say how I replied to these messages, but I will show you a couple examples.
Man 1: I bet you look super sexy tonight. Damn it, the nasty things we could be doing together. Ugh.
Man 2: Where do you want me to cum? (Mind you, I did not use cum in my initial text.....I used come....there is a difference)
Man 3: Can I borrow your body later?
Man 4: I wish I had pics of you. Luckily I have a photographic memory. You are hot/sexy/and have a great smile. How are you single? I don't know.
Yes, this actually happened. My question is how? I mean, four different people.....mind you only one of whom I have actually gotten naughty with. Do I blame it on the a a a a a alcohol? (I hope everyone rocked out like Jamie Foxx when they read that!) I woke up Sunday and at some point went through my messages from the night before just to see if I remembered correctly the things I thought I had read. YUP! I did. Getting messages from so many different people who at some point through the night told me how awesome and sexy I am was a great feeling; however, it made me think that it must just be the drinking.
Now, here is the part where you say "Girl, damn, you have restraint!" I'm a horny girl. We all know this. Being single and horny is SUPER FUCKING HARD because you don't get to benefit from being horny. I'm basically in my sexual prime and the only people benefiting are the people who make batteries. I go through Double A's like most people do a gallon of milk. It's rough, but thank God for vibrators. Saturday I was propositioned from all over the place and I restrained. (Pat on the back for me thank you very much). I'm waiting for one of the four (or even someone new) to prove that he is worthy of my awesome/sexiness. Until then, I have my B.O.B. (Battery Operated Boyfriend), an unlimited supply of Double A's, and some fun texts about what people would do to me if given the chance. I have an imagination, I can picture it happening. I just look forward to the next night where I am everyone's object of affection so I can get some new material to read off my phone. Until then, I will leave you with this.......
Man 4: Maybe we can enjoy each other's nakedness? =)
This past week there was one line in the show that really stood out to me. I didn't necessarily notice it at the time, but after my Halloween night out came and went (with a couple minor falls, some harmless face to face flirting, and an expensive international texting phone bill) I remembered what was said on Happy Endings "Halloween is the Superbowl for drinking." My Saturday night proved that statement to be true.
Now, don't get me wrong, I have been known to get a little crazy from time to time (I have pictures in a blue inner tube while walking around town to prove it), but in general I keep my drinking very controlled. I get to my happy place and stay there. I like the happy place. Three drinks in and I'm louder than normal (shocking), slightly more touchy (again, shocking since I'm super touchy to begin with), and I'm super fun (this is an obvious statement). Saturday night I was in my happy place. I can't say the same for the people at the other end of my texting line.....they seemed to be beyond a happy place. It was awesome. I heard from a multitude of men whom I have either gone out with once, a couple times, or even had some sort of dating relationship with. I will not say how I replied to these messages, but I will show you a couple examples.
Man 1: I bet you look super sexy tonight. Damn it, the nasty things we could be doing together. Ugh.
Man 2: Where do you want me to cum? (Mind you, I did not use cum in my initial text.....I used come....there is a difference)
Man 3: Can I borrow your body later?
Man 4: I wish I had pics of you. Luckily I have a photographic memory. You are hot/sexy/and have a great smile. How are you single? I don't know.
Yes, this actually happened. My question is how? I mean, four different people.....mind you only one of whom I have actually gotten naughty with. Do I blame it on the a a a a a alcohol? (I hope everyone rocked out like Jamie Foxx when they read that!) I woke up Sunday and at some point went through my messages from the night before just to see if I remembered correctly the things I thought I had read. YUP! I did. Getting messages from so many different people who at some point through the night told me how awesome and sexy I am was a great feeling; however, it made me think that it must just be the drinking.
Now, here is the part where you say "Girl, damn, you have restraint!" I'm a horny girl. We all know this. Being single and horny is SUPER FUCKING HARD because you don't get to benefit from being horny. I'm basically in my sexual prime and the only people benefiting are the people who make batteries. I go through Double A's like most people do a gallon of milk. It's rough, but thank God for vibrators. Saturday I was propositioned from all over the place and I restrained. (Pat on the back for me thank you very much). I'm waiting for one of the four (or even someone new) to prove that he is worthy of my awesome/sexiness. Until then, I have my B.O.B. (Battery Operated Boyfriend), an unlimited supply of Double A's, and some fun texts about what people would do to me if given the chance. I have an imagination, I can picture it happening. I just look forward to the next night where I am everyone's object of affection so I can get some new material to read off my phone. Until then, I will leave you with this.......
Man 4: Maybe we can enjoy each other's nakedness? =)
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Blowjobs for Brackets
I'm not married. But I know how it works. You need the garbage taken out and you don't want to do it.....you bargain. Honey, I will give you a nice bj if you will just take out the trash. I've heard this is a fool proof plan. Want the dishes done? Blow job. Shit needs done around the house? Blow job. Men are simple; offer them sexual favors and you can get what you want.
I'm single. I take out my own trash, do my own dishes, and pretend to fix my own shit when it breaks. I can basically do it all. I'm super intimidating, and thanks to my battery operated "boyfriend" a lot of days I can get by all on my own. I might talk to myself at night when I'm lonely and fake conversations with a non-existent lover, but that's besides the point. I'm self sufficient. Until it comes time to fill out a sports bracket. Now, I am a chick that loves sports. Throw me in front of a football game any day and I'm happy. Baseball: I mean come on, its the all American sport! Hockey: Hell yes, they can fight! Soccer: Those guys are dreamy. Basketball: I'm dumb. I don't know why, but I just don't enjoy it as much as the others. I try, and I cheer, and I get into it come playoff season, but all in all it's not my favorite.
Last year at work we had a bracket going and I wanted to enter. I am one of a few females in my workplace so I really wanted to do well since I'm super competitive. The problem was I had NO idea how to figure it out. That shit is confusing! So I solicited help from this guy I was....ummmmm......not dating. I'll call him "The Gambler". We had been not dating for a while, much to my dismay. He was an asshole. I unfortunately figured this out much too late in the game. I know, I know, you're thinking in your head "What, she dated an ass??? Impossible!! She has such great luck!!!" Anyway, I needed some assistance with my bracket and The Gambler not only had a thing for sports betting (can I pick the winners ladies???) but he also happened to be a basketball aficionado. What did I do? I sent this text "Blowjob for bracket help? Stop by tonight, I need help and I'm willing to make it worth your time." Now I know what you might be saying...whore! But I promise you, I'm not. I mean, married peeps do it all the time! I needed something that I thought only a guy could help me with so I was willing to do what I needed to get the help. It was really a win win situation. For a few moments spent on my knees I would get bragging rights at work. Totally worth it.
Lesson learned here: Married people are not the only ones who can solicit sexual favors to get what they want. Men are simple.....with the offer of a bj on the table anything is possible. Know your powers ladies, and use them accordingly. I may not have won the bracket, but the effort put in was well worth it.
P.S. I am kinda bummed it looks like there is no basketball this year, hehe. While The Gambler might be long gone, the idea is still phenominal.
I'm single. I take out my own trash, do my own dishes, and pretend to fix my own shit when it breaks. I can basically do it all. I'm super intimidating, and thanks to my battery operated "boyfriend" a lot of days I can get by all on my own. I might talk to myself at night when I'm lonely and fake conversations with a non-existent lover, but that's besides the point. I'm self sufficient. Until it comes time to fill out a sports bracket. Now, I am a chick that loves sports. Throw me in front of a football game any day and I'm happy. Baseball: I mean come on, its the all American sport! Hockey: Hell yes, they can fight! Soccer: Those guys are dreamy. Basketball: I'm dumb. I don't know why, but I just don't enjoy it as much as the others. I try, and I cheer, and I get into it come playoff season, but all in all it's not my favorite.
Last year at work we had a bracket going and I wanted to enter. I am one of a few females in my workplace so I really wanted to do well since I'm super competitive. The problem was I had NO idea how to figure it out. That shit is confusing! So I solicited help from this guy I was....ummmmm......not dating. I'll call him "The Gambler". We had been not dating for a while, much to my dismay. He was an asshole. I unfortunately figured this out much too late in the game. I know, I know, you're thinking in your head "What, she dated an ass??? Impossible!! She has such great luck!!!" Anyway, I needed some assistance with my bracket and The Gambler not only had a thing for sports betting (can I pick the winners ladies???) but he also happened to be a basketball aficionado. What did I do? I sent this text "Blowjob for bracket help? Stop by tonight, I need help and I'm willing to make it worth your time." Now I know what you might be saying...whore! But I promise you, I'm not. I mean, married peeps do it all the time! I needed something that I thought only a guy could help me with so I was willing to do what I needed to get the help. It was really a win win situation. For a few moments spent on my knees I would get bragging rights at work. Totally worth it.
Lesson learned here: Married people are not the only ones who can solicit sexual favors to get what they want. Men are simple.....with the offer of a bj on the table anything is possible. Know your powers ladies, and use them accordingly. I may not have won the bracket, but the effort put in was well worth it.
P.S. I am kinda bummed it looks like there is no basketball this year, hehe. While The Gambler might be long gone, the idea is still phenominal.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Ghostbusters
It's almost Halloween and I'm being haunted.
Have you ever seen "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past?" Probably not. Despite having Jennifer Garner and Matthew McConaugh-Hey it was not great.....which is weird for me to say because I love cliche chick flicks. I do heart me some Emma Stone and she was great in this, but still, not a great movie. Do I own it anyway? Yes yes I do! Wait, I'm getting off topic. Sorry, adult ADD stepping in. Or maybe it's just that its Friday and I feel like I need an adult beverage.....shit, no, story telling first. Right. Halloween, ghost, scary. Ok, I'm on it now.
So, right, I'm being haunted. Kind of like in the above mentioned flick my ghosts are of my dating past. Men have almost a 6th sense as to when a women might be getting over them and then they swoop back in. It's weird and not fair. Here I am living my charmed little life in suburban Ohio, pretending I am richer than I am, drinking more than I should, and all around just being awesome when the worst ghost imaginable sends me a message and I freeze. After everything how does MAB still affect me?
I'm pretending this is the last time; that I'm done reacting. You have read how our story started (who doesn't love a girl who pukes), you know a little of the history (yummy ice cream), and while there will be more stories of our time together, I am telling you the end right now. I stopped it. I put an end to it. Months after him saying "I'm sorry, I just don't love you" to me on one of the worst days of my life he decided to e-mail me and ask me to call. He kept me on the phone for 4 hours saying he had been thinking about me. He told me to visit. Then when circumstances prevented that, he told me it was probably for the best, that we didn't need to open that can of worms again. Ummmmmmm, YUP, no worms here! (Ewww, I just got an image of anal worms....I don't know why, but gross). So I'm calling this the end. Do I mean it? Who knows? We all know I'm too nice to not answer when someone calls me, but I'm going to try.
Here is what I'm thinking: remember that episode of Friends where they have a seance boyfriend burning kind of thing? Well...I actually hate matches so I'm not doing that haha. But mentally, I'm burning shit in my head. My hair might be redder tomorrow from the flames. Right now I'm rocking out to Adele. Not the sappy "I'll get over you and find someone just like you" Adele tracks but the "There's a fire starting in my heart/Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out of the dark" angry and balsy Adele who wants to kick some Army butt!
Game on bitches! Who ya gonna call.....GHOSTBUSTERS!
Have you ever seen "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past?" Probably not. Despite having Jennifer Garner and Matthew McConaugh-Hey it was not great.....which is weird for me to say because I love cliche chick flicks. I do heart me some Emma Stone and she was great in this, but still, not a great movie. Do I own it anyway? Yes yes I do! Wait, I'm getting off topic. Sorry, adult ADD stepping in. Or maybe it's just that its Friday and I feel like I need an adult beverage.....shit, no, story telling first. Right. Halloween, ghost, scary. Ok, I'm on it now.
So, right, I'm being haunted. Kind of like in the above mentioned flick my ghosts are of my dating past. Men have almost a 6th sense as to when a women might be getting over them and then they swoop back in. It's weird and not fair. Here I am living my charmed little life in suburban Ohio, pretending I am richer than I am, drinking more than I should, and all around just being awesome when the worst ghost imaginable sends me a message and I freeze. After everything how does MAB still affect me?
I'm pretending this is the last time; that I'm done reacting. You have read how our story started (who doesn't love a girl who pukes), you know a little of the history (yummy ice cream), and while there will be more stories of our time together, I am telling you the end right now. I stopped it. I put an end to it. Months after him saying "I'm sorry, I just don't love you" to me on one of the worst days of my life he decided to e-mail me and ask me to call. He kept me on the phone for 4 hours saying he had been thinking about me. He told me to visit. Then when circumstances prevented that, he told me it was probably for the best, that we didn't need to open that can of worms again. Ummmmmmm, YUP, no worms here! (Ewww, I just got an image of anal worms....I don't know why, but gross). So I'm calling this the end. Do I mean it? Who knows? We all know I'm too nice to not answer when someone calls me, but I'm going to try.
Here is what I'm thinking: remember that episode of Friends where they have a seance boyfriend burning kind of thing? Well...I actually hate matches so I'm not doing that haha. But mentally, I'm burning shit in my head. My hair might be redder tomorrow from the flames. Right now I'm rocking out to Adele. Not the sappy "I'll get over you and find someone just like you" Adele tracks but the "There's a fire starting in my heart/Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out of the dark" angry and balsy Adele who wants to kick some Army butt!
Game on bitches! Who ya gonna call.....GHOSTBUSTERS!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The concert was good.....oh wait, I didn't go that's right!
You know when you first meet someone and things seem to be going really well? I love that phase. You would think after all the shit that I have been though that phase would scare me. You would think that I would wait not so patiently with my pink mase and a knife to mame the man who ends that phase with a bang (as they all do so well). But no, I instead enjoy that phase and get sucked in like a little kid to the pedophiles car while getting offered candy. Sad, I know; but I just can't help but hope the candy will be good this time and that it won't leave me shitting in the street (a wonderful metaphor for my heart bleeding). I like visuals. Think Bridesmaids and me in a dress just shitting in the street because I can't take it anymore. Yup, sometimes that is what a crush does to you. Makes you lose control of your bowels.
Anyway, the happy phase. It begins with a lovely first date. In this particular case we were at a party. I'm a balsy chick, so when the boy I had yet to meet asked me to join him at a party for our first date (score 8,232,982,398 for match.com) I accepted. After all, I know how it is to be the only single person at a party, I didn't want my new crush to have to go alone. There was some hand holding, many flirty glances across the room, and a saucy game of beer pong. The night ended with some heavy making out by our cars. All in all, a great first date. Things progressed nicely. We began talking more often, texting throughout the day (almost 100% started by him....I did not want to come on too strong), and we had dinner the next weekend. I let him come up and we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie. I thought things were going very well. After the movie we kissed for a long time before I backed away and we cooled down. He said he should go since it was getting late and then we kissed some more. It was glorious. We agreed he should leave and we ended the night. Look at me, I'm a good girl! Woo Hoo! So, anyway, over the next 2 weeks every morning I received a message that said something along the lines of "Good morning beautiful" or "Hey babe, have a good day." You know, the sweet messages that make your heart melt and make you think this guy is amazing. YUP, those messages.
Things were going great! Making it even better he asked me to go to a concert with him the following Friday. It was a favorite band of his and he wanted me to see them. I said yes, and in return asked him to come with me to meet a couple of my friends out that night. This was big for me. When it comes to dating I am gun shy with introducing my friends to guys. I don't know why, I mean clearly I have gone out with some winners (insert super sarcastic face). This however was different, it went great and I was not too nervous. On the way home he even thanked me for letting him meet people who were so important to me. Really?!??! I was melting. Kind of like the Wicked Witch of the West when she gets water thrown on her....but in a good way. I was total putty in his hands. We got back to my house and you can guess what happened next. I caved. Good girl gone naughty. I'm sorry. I mean, I have needs, and he was cute, and he said nice things about me and was doing everything right. Ugh.
At 6am the next morning I woke up to him putting his jeans on. I rubbed my blurry eyes and asked where he was going. He said he was up and had things to do so thought he would get a start on the day. Yes, this is where there was an awkward silence. Me being adorable and nice I sat up and hugged him. This is not how it was supposed to go people. Where was my good morning sex, my "Hey! Let's go get breakfast together" conversation, and most importantly the smile I was supposed to see when he realized he was waking up with me. NONE OF THAT HAPPENED?!?!?! WTF? This was not what I imagined! I had a quick conversation with myself and said it will be ok, he really just has somewhere to be, don't stress and read too much into this. Don't be all girly, just be cool and calm and give him a kiss goodbye for the day. So I did just that. I love talking to myself, I give such great advice. He kissed me goodbye and said that he would call me later and that we had that concert on Friday so he would see me later in the week. Whew, good job self, he isn't blowing you off! I smiled and waved goodbye.
Nothing that day. Nothing the next day. Nothing the day after that. Mid week he cancelled the concert saying he had too much going on and would not be able to make it. I barely replied, I knew what was happening.
My question here is this: What the f&%k? How is that ok? Do guys really think that this is acceptable behavior? Why bother wasting some one's time and energy. If all you want is a little booty you can find that anywhere. Do not waste my time and say all the right things that make me think you want more from me. I do not understand how the system works. I'm at a loss.
Right now I'm shitting in the street.
Good news is I still love the happy phase.
Anyway, the happy phase. It begins with a lovely first date. In this particular case we were at a party. I'm a balsy chick, so when the boy I had yet to meet asked me to join him at a party for our first date (score 8,232,982,398 for match.com) I accepted. After all, I know how it is to be the only single person at a party, I didn't want my new crush to have to go alone. There was some hand holding, many flirty glances across the room, and a saucy game of beer pong. The night ended with some heavy making out by our cars. All in all, a great first date. Things progressed nicely. We began talking more often, texting throughout the day (almost 100% started by him....I did not want to come on too strong), and we had dinner the next weekend. I let him come up and we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie. I thought things were going very well. After the movie we kissed for a long time before I backed away and we cooled down. He said he should go since it was getting late and then we kissed some more. It was glorious. We agreed he should leave and we ended the night. Look at me, I'm a good girl! Woo Hoo! So, anyway, over the next 2 weeks every morning I received a message that said something along the lines of "Good morning beautiful" or "Hey babe, have a good day." You know, the sweet messages that make your heart melt and make you think this guy is amazing. YUP, those messages.
Things were going great! Making it even better he asked me to go to a concert with him the following Friday. It was a favorite band of his and he wanted me to see them. I said yes, and in return asked him to come with me to meet a couple of my friends out that night. This was big for me. When it comes to dating I am gun shy with introducing my friends to guys. I don't know why, I mean clearly I have gone out with some winners (insert super sarcastic face). This however was different, it went great and I was not too nervous. On the way home he even thanked me for letting him meet people who were so important to me. Really?!??! I was melting. Kind of like the Wicked Witch of the West when she gets water thrown on her....but in a good way. I was total putty in his hands. We got back to my house and you can guess what happened next. I caved. Good girl gone naughty. I'm sorry. I mean, I have needs, and he was cute, and he said nice things about me and was doing everything right. Ugh.
At 6am the next morning I woke up to him putting his jeans on. I rubbed my blurry eyes and asked where he was going. He said he was up and had things to do so thought he would get a start on the day. Yes, this is where there was an awkward silence. Me being adorable and nice I sat up and hugged him. This is not how it was supposed to go people. Where was my good morning sex, my "Hey! Let's go get breakfast together" conversation, and most importantly the smile I was supposed to see when he realized he was waking up with me. NONE OF THAT HAPPENED?!?!?! WTF? This was not what I imagined! I had a quick conversation with myself and said it will be ok, he really just has somewhere to be, don't stress and read too much into this. Don't be all girly, just be cool and calm and give him a kiss goodbye for the day. So I did just that. I love talking to myself, I give such great advice. He kissed me goodbye and said that he would call me later and that we had that concert on Friday so he would see me later in the week. Whew, good job self, he isn't blowing you off! I smiled and waved goodbye.
Nothing that day. Nothing the next day. Nothing the day after that. Mid week he cancelled the concert saying he had too much going on and would not be able to make it. I barely replied, I knew what was happening.
My question here is this: What the f&%k? How is that ok? Do guys really think that this is acceptable behavior? Why bother wasting some one's time and energy. If all you want is a little booty you can find that anywhere. Do not waste my time and say all the right things that make me think you want more from me. I do not understand how the system works. I'm at a loss.
Right now I'm shitting in the street.
Good news is I still love the happy phase.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Back on Track
Ok peeps, so I'm getting back on track with writing. It's a good outlet for me, so along with yoga and masterbation I just need to make the time. A girl has gotta de-stress somehow.
Stay tuned.
Stay tuned.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Conversations with children that make you want to stab your eyes out.
Kids have a way of blurting things out without using their inner monologue. I feel that the ability to control what you say must be something that comes with reaching a certain age. Hmmmm, wait a minute, that's not right because old people don't use their inner monologue either. Okay okay, I get it.....kids and old folks.....they can get away with saying whatever because, well, kids don't know any better and old people have lived enough life that they are excused from everything that might not be socially acceptable. Like farting in public. Have you ever been behind and old person in the grocery who has the walking farts? I mean, sometimes I almost want to ask where they got their invisible pet duck from. Shoot, that was a little mean. I actually love the elderly, it's just that gas is funny. I'm like a 4 year old boy; sometimes I hear people fart and I giggle. Oh wait! 4 year old boy! That's right, I'm supposed to be talking about kids here. Sorry, we know I get sidetracked.
So, anywho, kids. We love them. They are adorable. Blah blah blah. This story actually is two separate instances that happened over a year apart from one another, but still, somehow they magically fit together.
The altercation with "the boy":
I was enjoying a lovely dinner with a friend, her husband, their 2 year old, my friends' sister and her family (which consisted of her hubby and their 2 kids). AKA: I was in perfect family Hell; just the place where the single girl loves to be. Don't get me wrong, I absolutly love these people. They made room for me at family dinner (I mean, when you are feeding 7 people already whats 1 more body at the table? Take pitty on the single girl, please, we need to eat too.). It's just that sometimes I don't need anyone, let alone a child, making me feel bad. So, here is what happened. While sitting down to dinner the lovely adoring yet inquisitive eyes of a 4 year old boy were staring up at me. I asked this beautiful child what he was thinking and he replied to me with a question. Our conversation went something like this.....
Me: Do you have something to ask?
Boy: What are you?
Me: What? (look questioningly at friend and boys mother)
Boy: Where are your kids?
Me: I don't have any kids.
Boy: Oh, okay, so you are a kid. (He sat thinking for a long moment) You are small, but you are a little bigger then the normal kid???
Me: Well, I'm an adult.
Boy: But you don't have kids.
Me: No
Boy: Where is your husband?
Me: I don't have one.
Boy: ???????
Me: Okay, listen, I don't have a husband or kids.
Boy: Ohhhhhh, so you are a kid. Do you have a mom? Do you have a dad?
Me: Yes, I have a mom and a dad, I actually live with them right now (giant sigh as I realize I'm explaining to a 4 year old that I am 29 and living with my parents because I have no husband or kids of my own).
Boy: I get it now. You're a kid. Just a big one.
Me: No, you're not listening, I'm an adult.
Boy: But if you don't have kids then you must be one. All adults have kids, you don't have kids, so you are a kid.
Me: (Silently to myself I yell "HE ISN'T LISTENING TO ME!!! OK SELF, CONTROL YOUR TEMPER, BREATHE, HE IS JUST A KID, HE DOESN'T KNOW YOU ARE CRAZY SENSITIVE ABOUT YOUR CURRENT LIFE SITUATION. BREATHE. Just laugh, excuse your self to the bathroom and then cry into your hands and get it all out. That's right girl, get it out. You will be in there a while crying, shoot, tell them you are something that made you feel funny. Their dinner made you cry and it made you have to poop! Haha, you said poop. Poop. HAHAHA It's still funny. Poop. HAHAHA. Whew, okay self, good job, you calmed yourself down. All it took was some good poop thoughts. Well done!)
Boy: Why are you laughing?
Me: No reason, sometimes big kids just laugh.
The altercation with "the girl":
It was a lovely summer day that I was spending with my niece whom I love more than words can say. At the time she was 5 years old and on this particular day she made me want to throw one of my stilettos at her cute round little face. Our conversation went something like this.....
Niece: Do you want to play house?
Me: Sure!
Niece: Okay, let's go upstairs. I'll get my baby and be the momm, you can pretend to be my husband.
Me: Ummmm , okay, let's go.
Niece: Where is your husband?
Me: I'm confused, I thought I was playing your husband?
Niece: No, not in the game, in real life. Where is he?
Me: Oh, I don't have one.
Niece: Then your boyfriend, where is he? How come he never hangs out with us?
Me: Well, I don't have a boyfriend either.
Niece: So you don't have any kids? Mommy says that you need to be married to have kids and you're not married. Do you not want kids is that why you aren't married? You don't want a boyfriend or a husband?
Me: .........
Niece: I have a boyfriend. He is in my class at school. He lives down the street. I'm pretty sure my cousin has a boyfriend. Why don't you? Is there something wrong with you?
Me: ......
Niece: (staring sweetly at me waiting for an answer)
Me: .....Well.....uhhh....you see.....sometimes not all people have boyfriends or husbands.
Niece: But you're old. (long pause) Didn't you used to have a husband? I remember someone I used to call Uncle when I was little (as if she is so big right now!)
Me: Well yes, I was married, but I'm not anymore. So for now, it's just me. No boyfriend, no husband, no kids.
Niece: So you live all alone? No one is with you?
Me: (sigh) No, it's just me. Can we play house now please, I'd like to pretend I have a family, even if it is a 5 year old wife and a plastic baby.
Kids. We love them. They are adorable. Sometimes we want to shove a muzzle over their mouths. Ugh, but they mean well with their little inquisitive minds. Too cute to be mad at. Nothing a good chick flick, a bag of popcorn, and a bottle of wine can't fix. Wait, that usually makes it worse. Oh well, a toast please: Here's to not letting "kid word vomit" get to ya! Slainte!!
So, anywho, kids. We love them. They are adorable. Blah blah blah. This story actually is two separate instances that happened over a year apart from one another, but still, somehow they magically fit together.
The altercation with "the boy":
I was enjoying a lovely dinner with a friend, her husband, their 2 year old, my friends' sister and her family (which consisted of her hubby and their 2 kids). AKA: I was in perfect family Hell; just the place where the single girl loves to be. Don't get me wrong, I absolutly love these people. They made room for me at family dinner (I mean, when you are feeding 7 people already whats 1 more body at the table? Take pitty on the single girl, please, we need to eat too.). It's just that sometimes I don't need anyone, let alone a child, making me feel bad. So, here is what happened. While sitting down to dinner the lovely adoring yet inquisitive eyes of a 4 year old boy were staring up at me. I asked this beautiful child what he was thinking and he replied to me with a question. Our conversation went something like this.....
Me: Do you have something to ask?
Boy: What are you?
Me: What? (look questioningly at friend and boys mother)
Boy: Where are your kids?
Me: I don't have any kids.
Boy: Oh, okay, so you are a kid. (He sat thinking for a long moment) You are small, but you are a little bigger then the normal kid???
Me: Well, I'm an adult.
Boy: But you don't have kids.
Me: No
Boy: Where is your husband?
Me: I don't have one.
Boy: ???????
Me: Okay, listen, I don't have a husband or kids.
Boy: Ohhhhhh, so you are a kid. Do you have a mom? Do you have a dad?
Me: Yes, I have a mom and a dad, I actually live with them right now (giant sigh as I realize I'm explaining to a 4 year old that I am 29 and living with my parents because I have no husband or kids of my own).
Boy: I get it now. You're a kid. Just a big one.
Me: No, you're not listening, I'm an adult.
Boy: But if you don't have kids then you must be one. All adults have kids, you don't have kids, so you are a kid.
Me: (Silently to myself I yell "HE ISN'T LISTENING TO ME!!! OK SELF, CONTROL YOUR TEMPER, BREATHE, HE IS JUST A KID, HE DOESN'T KNOW YOU ARE CRAZY SENSITIVE ABOUT YOUR CURRENT LIFE SITUATION. BREATHE. Just laugh, excuse your self to the bathroom and then cry into your hands and get it all out. That's right girl, get it out. You will be in there a while crying, shoot, tell them you are something that made you feel funny. Their dinner made you cry and it made you have to poop! Haha, you said poop. Poop. HAHAHA It's still funny. Poop. HAHAHA. Whew, okay self, good job, you calmed yourself down. All it took was some good poop thoughts. Well done!)
Boy: Why are you laughing?
Me: No reason, sometimes big kids just laugh.
The altercation with "the girl":
It was a lovely summer day that I was spending with my niece whom I love more than words can say. At the time she was 5 years old and on this particular day she made me want to throw one of my stilettos at her cute round little face. Our conversation went something like this.....
Niece: Do you want to play house?
Me: Sure!
Niece: Okay, let's go upstairs. I'll get my baby and be the momm, you can pretend to be my husband.
Me: Ummmm , okay, let's go.
Niece: Where is your husband?
Me: I'm confused, I thought I was playing your husband?
Niece: No, not in the game, in real life. Where is he?
Me: Oh, I don't have one.
Niece: Then your boyfriend, where is he? How come he never hangs out with us?
Me: Well, I don't have a boyfriend either.
Niece: So you don't have any kids? Mommy says that you need to be married to have kids and you're not married. Do you not want kids is that why you aren't married? You don't want a boyfriend or a husband?
Me: .........
Niece: I have a boyfriend. He is in my class at school. He lives down the street. I'm pretty sure my cousin has a boyfriend. Why don't you? Is there something wrong with you?
Me: ......
Niece: (staring sweetly at me waiting for an answer)
Me: .....Well.....uhhh....you see.....sometimes not all people have boyfriends or husbands.
Niece: But you're old. (long pause) Didn't you used to have a husband? I remember someone I used to call Uncle when I was little (as if she is so big right now!)
Me: Well yes, I was married, but I'm not anymore. So for now, it's just me. No boyfriend, no husband, no kids.
Niece: So you live all alone? No one is with you?
Me: (sigh) No, it's just me. Can we play house now please, I'd like to pretend I have a family, even if it is a 5 year old wife and a plastic baby.
Kids. We love them. They are adorable. Sometimes we want to shove a muzzle over their mouths. Ugh, but they mean well with their little inquisitive minds. Too cute to be mad at. Nothing a good chick flick, a bag of popcorn, and a bottle of wine can't fix. Wait, that usually makes it worse. Oh well, a toast please: Here's to not letting "kid word vomit" get to ya! Slainte!!
How can I take the guy who cuts the lawn at work lemonade without it being innapropriate?
I need to learn how to make lemonade. Like really good lemonade. Fast.
Isn't that what you serve really really HOTT men who are sweaty and doing manual labor outside in the sun during the summer?
I might have just had an orgasm thinking about it. Ok, I did, there was no "might have." Ugh, he is super sexy.
So, ya, I have this problem. The guy who cuts the lawn at work is mega hot. Like if Jake Gyllenhall was cutting my lawn and this guy was cutting my lawn, I'm not sure who I would offer the lemonade to first. That's a big deal. I have been waking up in the middle of the night humping my bed to dreams of Jake for years (wow, I'm totally inappropriate, and apparently hornier than most men I know), but this guy is good looking. Every week when he is here I keep trying to find excuses to go outside. I have gotten the mail, put something in my car, taken a random walk.....I think it's starting to get obvious. I have done everything short of wearing a white t-shirt and walk outside pouring cold water all over my body. (The thought has crossed my mind, don't underestimate me.)
This guy own the company too, so he is not just some worker bee, but the head of the whole production. Did I mention he was yummy???
So, all I am asking for here is a little help. Lemonade recipes please. They need to be refreshing, tasty, light, and maybe contain a love potion. I don't ask much.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation.
Isn't that what you serve really really HOTT men who are sweaty and doing manual labor outside in the sun during the summer?
I might have just had an orgasm thinking about it. Ok, I did, there was no "might have." Ugh, he is super sexy.
So, ya, I have this problem. The guy who cuts the lawn at work is mega hot. Like if Jake Gyllenhall was cutting my lawn and this guy was cutting my lawn, I'm not sure who I would offer the lemonade to first. That's a big deal. I have been waking up in the middle of the night humping my bed to dreams of Jake for years (wow, I'm totally inappropriate, and apparently hornier than most men I know), but this guy is good looking. Every week when he is here I keep trying to find excuses to go outside. I have gotten the mail, put something in my car, taken a random walk.....I think it's starting to get obvious. I have done everything short of wearing a white t-shirt and walk outside pouring cold water all over my body. (The thought has crossed my mind, don't underestimate me.)
This guy own the company too, so he is not just some worker bee, but the head of the whole production. Did I mention he was yummy???
So, all I am asking for here is a little help. Lemonade recipes please. They need to be refreshing, tasty, light, and maybe contain a love potion. I don't ask much.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Next time I go on a date I will remember to bring orange juice
I don't even know where to start this.
Like really.
It was that bad.
It's not that I'm not sympathetic to those with medical issues, because I am, it's just that there are things you can do to avoid armageddon from happening on a first date.
I should have known it was going to be fantastic seeing as how we "met" on match.com (Remember how much I heart that website). Anyway, as per the usual way online dating goes, we e-mailed a bit, then texted, then finally talked on the phone. We planned to meet for dinner/a drink in the middle of the week. Oh, and by the way, we shall call this man OJ.....you'll figure out why.
Anyway, after chatting OJ up I decided he was safe and that I would meet him at his house so that we could go to dinner together. I got there and was pleasantly surprised....he was just as cute in person as in his pictures! Who knew! You would be surprised how often people look like Jake Gyllenhall in their pics and then you end up on a date with Steve Buscemi. I mean how do muscles get replaced with saggy weird eyes? I don't know, but it happens. The dating world is a weird warp zone where hotties get replaced with creepers, I swear. So, anyway, where was I....sorry, I get sidetracked easily when I think of muscles....and Jake....and oh those blue eyes....and oh...god....the hottness....and shit, now I'm horny. God! I keep getting off track.
Ok.
OJ.
Disasterous date.
No Jake.
Got it.
So, I'm at OJ's place and he is showing me around giving me the grand tour. Fun times peeps. We get in the car and head to dinner. The restaurant had no idea what they were in for. We got seated, ordered our beers, and decided on what to eat. The conversation was flowing smoothly, some laughter and not too many awkward pauses...yet. Our food was delivered and something changed. All of a sudden OJ stopped replying to me. I was eating and trying to make conversation, but every time I looked up he had this weird look on his face. I just kept eating my dinner thinking to myself crap, do I have something on my face, is there chicken in my tooth, did I spill something on my shirt and he is trying not to laugh? I don't understand what's happening here. For a while I just kept eating. The silence was deafening. It was almost as if all the other tables had stopped talking too because I could not hear anything other than my heart racing.
I finally looked up again to see OJ gripping the table. Hard. He started to push on it. Shake it. Move it. (Side note: Every time I hear someone say "move it" I picture being back in the 90's and rockin out to Reel 2 Real....you know you want to sing it right now, go on with your bad self. I like to move it move it!) Ok, back on track. The table is shaking, moving, being gripped by a man whose face looks so distorted I was scared. I asked him if he was ok. No answer. I sat there. The server came over, stared, and asked if we were ok. I said that I thought so and she left. Again, I asked if he was ok. Again, no answer. The table was being pushed closer to me. There was more shaking. I got up, visibaly scared and asked if he was ok. Nothing. People were staring. The server came back over and asked if we were ok again to which I replied "I'm not really sure what's happening." I begged OJ to talk to me. Nothing. The manager saw us. He came over. He took one look at us and asked what was going on and what I usually did when this kind of thing happened. In shock my reply was "I don't know what I usually do, welcome to our first date, we met 30 mintues ago. I don't know what's happening." I'm loud, I'm sure many people heard because they were all staring. A bartender came over and took one look and asked me if he was diabebtic. Hey lady, remember when WE JUST MET!?!?!?!? She brought over a cup of orange juice. OJ gulped it down. She handed him the gallon jug and he drank the whole thing. If he had been in a keg chugging contest he might have won. The manager tried to make me feel better by telling me that on his first date with his wife he forgot his wallet and made her pay. They have been married for 35 years. Ok, you forgot your wallet, my date is having a seizure. Not the same thing. After a few more minutes of standing there, the sweating started to slow down (mine and his, haha), some of the stares had been averted, and OJ was now sitting. Finally he spoke. "What the FUCK was that?" Really buddy. Really. That is what you are going to say? The waitress, the bartender, and the manger left us (sounds like the beginning to a joke....this one was not funny unfortunatly), and we were back to sitting alone at the table.
After triple checking to make sure that OJ was ok we continued on with dinner. We paid our bill (after all that shit they could not have given us a free meal!), and left. Together. Remember, I was stuck going back to his house. So, in the car I checked again to make sure he was ok and then asked if this was something that frequently happened to him. It was in this conversation I learned a couple things. OJ is indeed diabetic. He has been since age 4. His doctors want to put him on an Insulin pump beacuse his diabetes is so bad but he refuses to comply because he wants to be able to go shirtless in the summer since he has nice abs. Apparantly a tiny tube that helps to keep you alive is a distraction. Oh, and he almost died a few months ago but has not changed his lifestyle at all. Awesome.
He apologized and asked if I was brave enough to see him again to let him know. I hugged him goodnight, and left.
The next morning I received another text. Again, aplogizing. I'm not heartless, and I do realize that things happen (you would think that after 33 years of having a disease you would be able to manage better, or be prepared, or feel the warning signs coming on that something VERY BAD was about to happen so you could tell your first date that you were about to have a diabetic seizure, but whatever), so ya know everyone deserves a second chance.
I went over a couple of days later. We were snuggling on the couch watching TV when he brought up the other night. Notice I said he brought it up, not me. So, me being curious I nicely asked him something along the lines of, "This has to be really hard on you, is there anything that you think you can do, or that you have discussed with your doctors to do to prevent things from happening? I just feel like there has to be a better way, just for your benefit." In my head I was really thinking hey asshole, remember when if you are diabetic you probably should not have ordered beer while we were out, and how you should be on an insulin pump, and how you should expand your normal drinking to something beyond caffeineated beverages because even I know thats not healthy! I'm not a doctor or a nurse and I don't have dibetes but I can tell you multiple things you can change right now that might make a difference in...oh, I don't know, YOU LIVING! But no, I'm rational, and sweet, and I did not say what was going through my head. I cannot say the same for OJ. He yelled. And got angry. And told me how dare I even ask a question regarding his health when I knew nothing about him. He was doing everything necessary (not true) to keep his diabetes under control. I could not even tell you what he said because he was so irrational, and I was stunned. When he finished, I apologized (because as a self proclaimed "pleaser" thats what I do, when I get yelled at for no reason I apologize....you know, because that makes sense). I simply told him that I had been scared the other night and was scared for him and was simply trying to know if there was anything that I could do or any other way it could be approached, for his benefit. He yelled some more. I apologized again and asked to drop it. 20 minutes later I left.
He texted multiple times after that, I stopped replying. Everyone gets a second chance, he did not deserve a third.
Moral here: Shaking things up on a first date is not always a good thing.
Like really.
It was that bad.
It's not that I'm not sympathetic to those with medical issues, because I am, it's just that there are things you can do to avoid armageddon from happening on a first date.
I should have known it was going to be fantastic seeing as how we "met" on match.com (Remember how much I heart that website). Anyway, as per the usual way online dating goes, we e-mailed a bit, then texted, then finally talked on the phone. We planned to meet for dinner/a drink in the middle of the week. Oh, and by the way, we shall call this man OJ.....you'll figure out why.
Anyway, after chatting OJ up I decided he was safe and that I would meet him at his house so that we could go to dinner together. I got there and was pleasantly surprised....he was just as cute in person as in his pictures! Who knew! You would be surprised how often people look like Jake Gyllenhall in their pics and then you end up on a date with Steve Buscemi. I mean how do muscles get replaced with saggy weird eyes? I don't know, but it happens. The dating world is a weird warp zone where hotties get replaced with creepers, I swear. So, anyway, where was I....sorry, I get sidetracked easily when I think of muscles....and Jake....and oh those blue eyes....and oh...god....the hottness....and shit, now I'm horny. God! I keep getting off track.
Ok.
OJ.
Disasterous date.
No Jake.
Got it.
So, I'm at OJ's place and he is showing me around giving me the grand tour. Fun times peeps. We get in the car and head to dinner. The restaurant had no idea what they were in for. We got seated, ordered our beers, and decided on what to eat. The conversation was flowing smoothly, some laughter and not too many awkward pauses...yet. Our food was delivered and something changed. All of a sudden OJ stopped replying to me. I was eating and trying to make conversation, but every time I looked up he had this weird look on his face. I just kept eating my dinner thinking to myself crap, do I have something on my face, is there chicken in my tooth, did I spill something on my shirt and he is trying not to laugh? I don't understand what's happening here. For a while I just kept eating. The silence was deafening. It was almost as if all the other tables had stopped talking too because I could not hear anything other than my heart racing.
I finally looked up again to see OJ gripping the table. Hard. He started to push on it. Shake it. Move it. (Side note: Every time I hear someone say "move it" I picture being back in the 90's and rockin out to Reel 2 Real....you know you want to sing it right now, go on with your bad self. I like to move it move it!) Ok, back on track. The table is shaking, moving, being gripped by a man whose face looks so distorted I was scared. I asked him if he was ok. No answer. I sat there. The server came over, stared, and asked if we were ok. I said that I thought so and she left. Again, I asked if he was ok. Again, no answer. The table was being pushed closer to me. There was more shaking. I got up, visibaly scared and asked if he was ok. Nothing. People were staring. The server came back over and asked if we were ok again to which I replied "I'm not really sure what's happening." I begged OJ to talk to me. Nothing. The manager saw us. He came over. He took one look at us and asked what was going on and what I usually did when this kind of thing happened. In shock my reply was "I don't know what I usually do, welcome to our first date, we met 30 mintues ago. I don't know what's happening." I'm loud, I'm sure many people heard because they were all staring. A bartender came over and took one look and asked me if he was diabebtic. Hey lady, remember when WE JUST MET!?!?!?!? She brought over a cup of orange juice. OJ gulped it down. She handed him the gallon jug and he drank the whole thing. If he had been in a keg chugging contest he might have won. The manager tried to make me feel better by telling me that on his first date with his wife he forgot his wallet and made her pay. They have been married for 35 years. Ok, you forgot your wallet, my date is having a seizure. Not the same thing. After a few more minutes of standing there, the sweating started to slow down (mine and his, haha), some of the stares had been averted, and OJ was now sitting. Finally he spoke. "What the FUCK was that?" Really buddy. Really. That is what you are going to say? The waitress, the bartender, and the manger left us (sounds like the beginning to a joke....this one was not funny unfortunatly), and we were back to sitting alone at the table.
After triple checking to make sure that OJ was ok we continued on with dinner. We paid our bill (after all that shit they could not have given us a free meal!), and left. Together. Remember, I was stuck going back to his house. So, in the car I checked again to make sure he was ok and then asked if this was something that frequently happened to him. It was in this conversation I learned a couple things. OJ is indeed diabetic. He has been since age 4. His doctors want to put him on an Insulin pump beacuse his diabetes is so bad but he refuses to comply because he wants to be able to go shirtless in the summer since he has nice abs. Apparantly a tiny tube that helps to keep you alive is a distraction. Oh, and he almost died a few months ago but has not changed his lifestyle at all. Awesome.
He apologized and asked if I was brave enough to see him again to let him know. I hugged him goodnight, and left.
The next morning I received another text. Again, aplogizing. I'm not heartless, and I do realize that things happen (you would think that after 33 years of having a disease you would be able to manage better, or be prepared, or feel the warning signs coming on that something VERY BAD was about to happen so you could tell your first date that you were about to have a diabetic seizure, but whatever), so ya know everyone deserves a second chance.
I went over a couple of days later. We were snuggling on the couch watching TV when he brought up the other night. Notice I said he brought it up, not me. So, me being curious I nicely asked him something along the lines of, "This has to be really hard on you, is there anything that you think you can do, or that you have discussed with your doctors to do to prevent things from happening? I just feel like there has to be a better way, just for your benefit." In my head I was really thinking hey asshole, remember when if you are diabetic you probably should not have ordered beer while we were out, and how you should be on an insulin pump, and how you should expand your normal drinking to something beyond caffeineated beverages because even I know thats not healthy! I'm not a doctor or a nurse and I don't have dibetes but I can tell you multiple things you can change right now that might make a difference in...oh, I don't know, YOU LIVING! But no, I'm rational, and sweet, and I did not say what was going through my head. I cannot say the same for OJ. He yelled. And got angry. And told me how dare I even ask a question regarding his health when I knew nothing about him. He was doing everything necessary (not true) to keep his diabetes under control. I could not even tell you what he said because he was so irrational, and I was stunned. When he finished, I apologized (because as a self proclaimed "pleaser" thats what I do, when I get yelled at for no reason I apologize....you know, because that makes sense). I simply told him that I had been scared the other night and was scared for him and was simply trying to know if there was anything that I could do or any other way it could be approached, for his benefit. He yelled some more. I apologized again and asked to drop it. 20 minutes later I left.
He texted multiple times after that, I stopped replying. Everyone gets a second chance, he did not deserve a third.
Moral here: Shaking things up on a first date is not always a good thing.
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