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.

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.

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.