Nostalgia

During the last few days, my husband and I have been talking about our early days. We both remember different 'firsts'.

I found out he liked me the first time we met, and went about our relationship a whole different way than he ever had before.
We remembered about our first 'let's date exclusively' talk, and where it took place.
I reminisced about the first time I met his mom.
We remembered the first time we had sex, and everything that led up to it.
I remembered my first confession to him, and how well he took it.
We talked about our first impressions, and how we kept surprising each other.

We also noticed how much we've changed and grown closer. I wouldn't give him up for the world, and he feels the same about me. These little talks have been very sweet, and remind me how much I love him.

The Unexpected

He grabbed my hair, and pulled my head back.
I said, "You better stop since you're gay."
He said, "What does that matter?"

I grabbed his hair, and pulled his head back.
He said, "You better stop that since you're a girl."
Of course I said, "What does that matter?"

He said, "Okay. I warned you...."

He pulled me over to the other side of him, bent me back over the railing, and went to work on my neck. He stayed in the same spot for quite a while-- until I said it was going to leave a mark. He pulled up and off, and said, "Yes, it will."

And that is how I got a hickey from my gay friend.


(Just for you)

I found love again

Last night, we had our Thanksgiving feast. We visited our nuclear family. I think that's the term, anyway, for the family you choose.
I have been so anti-social lately. It was so refreshing to be around people (yes, people-- not just a person that worked in the moment) that didn't piss me off.
It had that feeling. You know the one... The one you're supposed to have at family gatherings. The sitting around the hearth fire, telling stories, and just generally loving each other feeling. The feeling you see in old black and white holiday movies. The feeling that people complain isn't there anymore. Well, I'm here to say it isn't gone. I felt it.
I am so lucky to have these people in my life.
And for us, we were just using Thanksgiving as an excuse to get together, and have a feast. Thanksgiving (for pagans) isn't a seasonal holiday. Or, I should say, it isn't based on anything in nature -- like a solstice. It is our out-of-place secular holiday feast thing (to use a friend's words).
And, boy howdy!, was it a feast!!! It took two long tables to hold the food. Just the food. No one was sitting at the tables. There wasn't room. I was so stuffed, and continued to eat. When something tastes that good, I'll deal with the pain. From homemade bread to homemade cheesecake (not from a mix) and homemade pecan pie... How could anyone resist? *laugh* And no one did.
The beautiful thing is, we will be going back there Friday, and again, for Yule.
Going there was just the warm blanket I needed to curl up in on a cold winter's night. I feel so refreshed.

I'm Back!!

I'm back from my road trip. It was fabulous! *ding*

We went to Indianapolis, then to Chicago, and back again.
We were talking the entire time. It was hard to shut up. Except when PB4 (Psycho Bitch 4) called. Then I had no problem keeping quiet. Well, actually.... This one time he was purposely trying to make me laugh while talking to her-- just because I had to keep it quiet. It was fun.
We really got to know each other for the first time. It is kind of hard to get to know someone well when PB4 was always a noise factor. Attention whore from hell. If you weren't paying attention to her, she would force you to. Ahh, my head hurts with the memory.
We covered just about every topic, I think. It turns out we have a lot in common. AND we are totally opposite in others. We were both impressed with one another for some reason. He was impressed with me getting to be who I am now after what my life was like. (I was a little confused by this.) I was impressed he had held out so long with PB4. I never would have been able to do that.
Our childhoods were similar, but we reacted to them differently.
Also, I learned it is hard for two extremely laid back people to make a choice. When both people are good either way, how do you decide? But we somehow struggled through it. :-)
George Carlin rocks!! We listened to two different stand-ups by him. It was great. He was driving, and I was in the back lounging on the bed (We can't talk during Carlin anyway. Sacrilege!!). Carlin is crude, but funny as hell. I would so do him.
And... Check this out... It's unbelievable... He didn't pass out and die from hearing my music!!! I know, I know. Dude is a Superman. What's even stranger... He actually turned up the volume on a few songs. I am still floored by this.
I also learned just how much truck drivers can see into cars. The roof of the car isn't exactly a deterrent like I would have thought. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see anything I wasn't supposed to. From what he told me, people in cars think anything below the windows is hidden. So, they'll scratch themselves or some other thing they wouldn't do in public.
I also remembered how much I DO NOT miss the north. I noticed once again that I was breathing easier once we returned to the hills. Thank god the entire country isn't a flat field. How those people can stand it, I'll never understand. We passed by a lonely house smack dab in the middle of miles of fields. A tornado catastrophe waiting to happen. What do these people have against a few trees? Are they so awful every single one must be cut down? Just for safety reasons, I'd want some trees.
He has an incredible, and detailed, imagination. That was another way I was impressed.
I think I could be a truck driver. Except for that whole going in reverse thing...

Japanese Smiley

You are "Face with Glasses"

What Japanese Smiley Are You?

Road Trip

Yep, that's right. I get to go on a road trip. I have no idea where I'm going. I'm just along for the ride (and the company).
But not just any road trip, in a compact -wish I could stretch my legs out- car.
In a semi. A tractor trailer. A big rig. I'll be riding with a trucker. How cool is that? Plenty of room to stretch out. There's a bed, for Pete's sake! Now that's luxury. Road trippin' with a bed.
And not just any trucker. A very cool friend of mine.
He says he's going to pick my brain. I should tell him to buy some ibuprofen. He's gonna need it. By the same token, I may need it too. I plan to do a little pickin' myself.
I'll finally get to hear what all the truckers says over the radio-- which, I've been told, is nothing nice. Apparently, kindergarten behavior comes through like a ton of bricks. It'll be interesting, to say the least.
It will be so different being able to only stop at certain places (due to the size of the truck). That'll take serious planning (which I will promptly forget to do).
I wish I had a new coffee mug. Mine doesn't work so well for travel anymore. It is too loved.
My favorite part of road trips are the trips, itself. Not the destination. All destinations begin to blend after a while-- but the trip? It's a very cozy, yet adventurous feeling. I like it. Just heading down that road... There is nothing like it.

They call me the Breeze...

Trust

Is trust something that can be earned back? I'm not talking about the idea of trust-- or even trust in theory. I am talking about when trust is actually broken, is it possible to get it back?
I would like to think so. I also think it would be difficult.

I think getting suspicious over non-actions is a bit silly. I think people should be judged by what they actually do-- not by what they felt like doing.

I feel like doing lots of things, but don't, because it would be wrong. Even in the heat of the moment, I'll keep my standards. I know how I'll feel after I do something I shouldn't-- and avoid doing it for that reason.

I believe every action -- good or bad -- has consequences. I also think, no matter what you are personally feeling at the time, you should think ahead to possible consequences. And if you did something wrong, you should hold yourself accountable. And accept your consequences.

And so, I enter my cave...

I am feeling very anti-social. Every little thing seems to be getting to me, and I have no patience for it.

Rudeness is bothering me. Like refusing to clarify a question. Or signing off on a conversation without saying goodbye. Or thinking you are the only interesting subject to be talked about.

Over-reacting, in general, is something that I can't handle, at all, right now.

I also hate when trust is betrayed. Especially delayed reaction to it.

I just want to curl up under a blanket and pretend the world outside my home doesn't exist. I don't want the phone to ring. I don't want anyone coming over. I don't want anyone asking me, "What's wrong?", or, "Are you okay?"

I'm just glad my husband is here, and knows what I'm going through. He thinks I should have a discussion over the trust issue, but agrees the other things bothering me aren't worth bringing up. At least, it won't do any good. It's not like it''ll change anything. And who knows? Maybe even the trust issue won't be resolved by talking about it, but Husband thinks it's worth a shot.

He is such a good man. I'm glad he's mine. I am very lucky.

A Joke

I got this in my email, and wanted to share the wealth.


A priest walks onto the bus, and takes the only remaining seat, next to a rabbi. The rabbi looks up and asks "Did you hear the one about us?" After a good chuckle, and a little small talk, the priest says, "I can understand why you would only want to eat food that was blessed, but I can't beleive that you're not permitted to eat pork!"

The rabbi responds "Actually, when I was about fourteen, I tried a piece of bacon."

"Really," says the priest. "How was it?" "It was ok," he replies, "but not nearly as good as sex."



Get it???

A Karmic Tale

I have no idea where this originated from, and therefore, cannot give credit where credit is due.

===================================================
High in the reaches of Mount Kailasha is the abode of Shiva, the Hindu god of destruction. One evening Vishnu, the god responsible for preserving the cosmic order, came to see Shiva. He left behind at the entrance Garuda, the half-man, half-eagle composite, who served as his vehicle.

Garuda sat alone, marveling at the natural splendor of the place. Suddenly, his eyes fell on a beautiful creature, a little bird seated on the arch crowning the entrance to Shiva's place. Garuda wondered aloud: "How marvelous is this creation! One who has created these lofty mountains has also made this tiny bird - and both seem equally wonderful."

Just then Yama, the god of death who rides a buffalo, came passing by with the intention of meeting Shiva. As he crossed the arch, his eyes went over to the bird, and he raised his brows in a quizzical expression. Then he took his eyes off the bird and disappeared inside. Now, in the ancient thought of India, even a slight glance of Yama is said to be the harbinger of death. Garuda, who had observed Yama's action, told himself, "Yama looking intently at the bird can mean only one thing - the bird's time is up. Perhaps on his way back he will carry away the bird's soul with him."

Garuda's heart was filled with pity for the helpless creature. That it was oblivious of its own impending doom further agonized Garuda, and he resolved to save the bird from the clutches of death. He swooped it up in his mighty talons, rushed to a forest thousands of miles away and left the bird on a rock beside a brook. Then he returned to Kailasha and regained his position at the entrance gate.

Soon after, Yama emerged from inside, and nodded to Garuda in recognition. Garuda greeted the god of death and said: "May I put a question to you? While going in, you saw a bird and for a moment you became pensive, why?"

Yama answered him thus: "Well, when my eyes fell on the little bird, I saw that it was to die in a few minutes, swallowed by a python, far away from here in a forest near a brook. I wondered how this tiny creature would traverse the thousand of miles separating it from its destiny in such a short time. Then I forgot. Surely it must have happened somehow." Saying this, Yama smiled and went away.

Slowly, but surely

I have been trying it. Giving into my emotions--without caring about people seeing me lose it. And you know what? It was kind of nice. I reacted -- just like the other folk do -- and I didn't get looked down on, or even blamed for how I was feeling. In fact, I have had offers from others to take care of the things that were bothering me. And they made good on their offers. It was amazing.

There is one thing I don't like about this new path: I hate other people taking care of me. And that weakness is a necessary evil if I'm going to become like everyone else. It's all part and parcel of the whole reacting emotionally gig. But here's the cool part: I can allow myself to react no matter what-- Before, I waited until I had my husband alone, and then vented to him. Poor guy. He had to take on so much.

I tried this on Saturday. I exploded/vented/ranted/cussed like a sailor to my husband and a friend. This friend has only seen me lose it once, and I actually felt guilty about it (and also restrained myself a bit). He got to see the venomous bitch side of me. He is so cool. It didn't rattle him a bit. He even agreed with the reason for my rant. Both him and my husband stepped up to the plate. Which was good. They could handle the situation much better than I could. I was so pissed off, I was shaking, getting chills, my stomach hurt, and my head felt like it was alternating between going numb and pulsating. I had no idea how I was going to get through the plans for the evening. But after a very hot shower, and some time to myself, I was able to deal.

Yay me.

Rest , Responsibility

I have to be responsible this week. Well, the beginning of the week anyway. I am going on a road trip Wednesday through Friday, and I can't be passing out. It wouldn't be fair to the driver. So, no sleep dep for me. I am still recovering from Friday night.
I was up all night, got a couple hours sleep Saturday morning, and finally went to bed about 3:30am Sunday. I figured I had better go to bed since I was starting to dream while sitting up on my couch.

It was a pretty good weekend all in all. If you like roller coasters...


BTW, does anyone out there know how to go back in time?

I give up

Quick note: I hate when I have feelings I'm not aware of--- especially because I am wasting my time with someone else's feelings. I don't explore my own at that time, and then forget to do it. As a consequence, the feeling festers and begins to have side effects. When I finally become aware of it, I wonder how I could possibly bring it up without hearing, "You're still thinking about that?", or, "You should have told me you were feeling that way". Yeah. That's right. Either I'll be made fun of, or it'll become all about how the other person was slighted when I didn't speak up. What the fuck ever.

Where's the aspirin???

Well, my headache is now back.

Everything that was a possibility for Friday night has fallen through. Which completely sucks.

And my kid can't keep her mouth shut. I swear it is physically impossible for her to stop this stuff from coming out. Well, it is probably genetic.

I don't know what is wrong with my appetite. It seems to have gone through the roof. Even when I know I've eaten enough, I'm still hungry. Oh well. Probably just a phase. I hope it passes soon. Today would be nice. And it wouldn't be so bad, but the stuff I'm craving is junk. Maybe it has something to do with the purge. I just might have more room. What a lovely thought. (hint of sarcasm there)

I am so tired, and I don't know why. I think my sleep schedule has been okay. Catching up on sleep, and all that rot. I even passed out last night beyond normal unconsciousness. And slept in. Here it is, 6 pm, and I just want to sit on the couch and possibly fall asleep. But I have a list in my head that needs to get done in a certain amount of time. Exhausting to even think about.

And the Magic 8 Ball says...

I am not a mind reader. And, as such, there will be times I won't understand what you mean exactly with just one sentence.
And if I don't understand, I will ask for clarification. And if you can't be bothered because you assume I should know, it's insulting. It's also one of my pet peeves.
It's also just fine if you choose to do it repeatedly. I guess if you don't want me to understand you, that's your prerogative. In my opinion, it makes things more difficult... But hey, that is only one village idiot's opinion. And probably not as important as your own.
I bow before your vast and omnipotent knowledge.

I have a headache

I hate Veteran's Day. I know I probably shouldn't. Why can't we just throw a big party for the veterans, instead of hearing misinformed children spout off about freedom we don't have?
I was privileged enough to go to a solemn school function honoring our veterans--and the people 'gone' right now. That's right-- gone. Not fighting, not wasting time and money, not being Bush's puppets... Just gone.
And the school was thoughtful enough to let the 5th graders give 'What Freedom Means To Me' speeches. Personally, I would have rather heard from the adults-- at least they know what freedom actually is, not just what they've read in a textbook.
I got to hear what our constitutional rights were--including freedom of religion, and how we can all worship the way we want. Yeah right. As long as you are Christian, you can go to whatever church you want. That's okay. That's accepted. So, do you think I could hang a huge pentagram of protection on my house, and everyone would be fine? They would just say it was my right? Or would they start talking about how we were devil-worshippers? Would there be whispers behind hands as we pass? Would there be sympathy for my kid because she has to grow up this way? Would we suddenly be in need of our souls being saved? Would the kids in school-- that don't even know about the different religions-- follow their parents lead, and mistreat my kid? Yeah, we're fucking free all right.
I just love how we Americans pat ourselves on the back for being 'free'. Why can't we just admit to ourselves we are completely fucked up-- but don't want anyone else to see it, so we bully other countries by shoving our cocks down their throats... At least while a man is in office, anyway.

I'm fine

I am fine (in case anyone is wondering if I lost my mind). I haven't. I was just really sick of other people's feelings being more important than mine-- all the time.

I also am sick of everyone staying in their self-destructive patterns.

But I purged, and feel better. And I guess I'm back to normal, or so Husband says.

I still don't want to put up with stupid shit. Fair warning! If I see some dumb behavior, and have an urge to say something, I will. I am going to choose my feelings for a change. Y'all can change for me. *happy sigh* That'll be nice.

And maybe, if I am no longer coddling you, you will actually change and progress. Think of my bitchiness as an opportunity for growth. :-) (Oh! Look! I just was a little bitchy! Cool.) I'm liking this already.

Yep, all this starting coming to the surface weeks ago. I wasn't fully aware of it, however. The last time I blogged was the same day it was discovered and pulled out of me. (Thank you!!) I was completely normal yesterday. I still feel good. Chipper even. Could possibly be jolly.

I'm done

I've decided to hell with my high standards. I am so sick of holding myself up to what is right---when everyone around me doesn't give a shit. They react EMOTIONALLY to situations. They are allowed to. Why? Because they don't care enough to make the change. They all just coast along in their happy misery. They can act stupid. They can put their foot in their mouths. They can expect others to just fucking accept it. And I am the one always stepping up to the plate. I face my fears. I deal with my insecurities without getting crippled. And now it is expected of me. People in my life are so used to me being the level headed one. I can think clearly even when pissed. I am expected to carry them, and be responsible for them AND myself. They can look up to me-- or just be thankful I helped them through something. Well, where's mine? I want to fuck up. I want to make mistakes. I want to just let loose of my emotional control. I am sick of doing everything right, no matter what. All these people let their issues and emotions direct their actions--and don't bother to think ahead. Why should they? Someone else will pick up the pieces. Someone else will be understanding. Someone else will be kind and adjust to their shit. Yeah. Great. I AM that someone else. I am who they turn to when they can't be strong enough to deal with their shit on their own. Which is stupid. All they do is talk, bitch, complain, cry .. whatever. And then go back to the stupidity that is their life with a goofy happy grin because someone else is now carrying their problems. Well, I don't see why I need to do that shit anymore. I don't want to be the bigger person anymore. So what if I turn into a total bitch because I'm just saying/doing what I feel. They can be the ones to deal for a change. I am tired. So very tired. At the moment, I can't think of one other person that is on par with me. That's a lot of responsibility to take on. I don't want to be responsible anymore. I want to be the lesser person. And what's frustrating, even if I do this-- they'll all believe it's just a phase I'm going through. They won't be able to accept I might be making a life change here. They won't think I'll do it for long because I won't like it. How do they know? How can so many people be wrong? If everyone is just coasting along in life, it must be easy, right? Why wouldn't I like easy? I mean, seriously, how cool would it be for someone else to pick up my pieces? I would no longer have to worry about doing what's right. I can just do what I want-- and everyone else be damned.

Update And Rant (the bonus package!)

Here's my update.

I'm off meat again for (probably) a few months.

I finally got to sleep around 3:30 or 4:00 in the morning. By that time, I didn't even feel tired anymore, and didn't want to go to bed. But I did the right thing. *sigh*

I think the overly sexual feeling is dissipating. At least for now.

The dog that Tractor Roadkill was blaming us for (that wasn't ours) is now gone. Someone else came and asked us if we wanted the dog, but we would have to keep him tied up. He's a biter. We refused, and now the dog is gone. Hopefully Empty Headed Bitch will rise up and out from her delusions-- but I'm not holding my breath.

Okay, minor rant.

What the hell is up with the bloggers that create blogs just to leave comments on others? Seriously, it is as creepy as a stalker. If you have a blog, use it. Not just use your 'user name'---use your own actual fucking blog. And posting something lame, and just leaving it as is? Whatever. And especially when it becomes obvious you are mainly interested in the sex blogs? Way creepy. How about some sharing of your own? Or are you a coward? Do you like to lurk without giving anything? People like that really turn my stomach. Personally, I would like to see a little more effort.

Mmmmm...

I got my meat, and I ate too much. My stomach now hurts and feels way bigger than it should be.

But, Dammit, it was worth it!!

A Great T-Shirt

If I got smart with you-
How would you know?

Deep Thoughts

I'm going on sleep dep again. Hmm... Seems to be a pattern. And for some reason, I am handling it much better than in the past. At least, it doesn't take as long to recover from it. It hardly seems to take any time at all.
Stay up all day, all night, all day, and finally get a full night's sleep... and that's all I need. Weird.

And I'm actually craving meat. Not pasta, or something normal for me like that. And it can't be just any meat. I am having serious cravings. I must be lacking in something.

I could actually go out and hunt something-- and eat it raw right there. But I am choosing to be civilized, and wait for supper. Dammit...


On a different topic, I think people should constantly test themselves. We should all hold ourselves to high standards. We should also see how far we can go. I guess you could call them 'control exercises'. Tempt yourself with something you can't have, just to see if you can resist. I believe it makes a person stronger. It also informs you what your limits are. That's something else everyone should know-- their limits. And to bring yourself as close to the line as possible, without crossing it. It's good for the body and soul. And teaches you your desires, needs, and things you need to avoid.

It is also an exercise in Mind Over Matter. See if you can keep your mind functioning without giving into your body. Or get your mind to accept something (or believe something) that your body would normally perceive a different way. Like pain. Your body would normally flinch and rebel against any kind of pain, but if you can adjust the way your mind perceives it... It is possible to come away feeling no pain-- or at least, not have any lasting injuries. I know, for myself, I have a high pain tolerance. I didn't always, but when I was a little kid, I heard about the stoic-ness (is that a word?) of the Samurai. (I think that's who it was, anyway. And if it wasn't, sue me. I was a kid.) They would take all kinds of pain, injuries, and torture-- without changing their facial expression. I admired and aspired to that. I wanted to be able to have a 'poker face'. No matter what. I haven't reached that point yet. My face still changes. But I'm working on it. :-)

*hiding in my house*

Last night, even after I had calmed down (or so I believed), I still couldn't talk about the Should Be Tractor Roadkill woman. I had to actually stop the discussion because I was getting too pissed.

Getting too pissed to even talk about it? That doesn't happen very often...

So, after that, Husband went up the road to talk to her. Talk. Heh. Right. Well, he would be civil-- more than I could be anyway. He didn't want to go up there. He said he can't stand looking at her and her vacant stare. I swear, you expect her to start drooling any second... Or begin to chase some non-existent tail.

But of course, Skull Cracked Open And Find Nothing There wasn't home. So this means she will continue to blame us in that one track mind of hers. She reminds me a lot of Drunk Bitch-- only this one is sober!! And lives near me. And it is illegal to kill her.


I sometimes wonder what the world would be like if all the Stupid People were removed. But then, we wouldn't have test subjects. I guess they serve a purpose-- like rats in a lab.

But why do they have to surround me?

Geez, I find an intelligent person, and then get mobbed by stupid ones. Same pattern every time. Just once, I would like to get mobbed by the people that haven't gotten a lobotomy. Ahh... Now there's a fantasy...

Reminiscing

I swear there is something in the air lately. I have been feeling very... sexual. I love when these moods hit me. I have been thinking a lot about what I want to try, or have tried and enjoyed.

The ones I've tried, but never get tired of: The outdoor experiences.
There is something about the feel of the wind on my naked flesh. I look around and see the stars, the ground, and all the places people could walk in on us. I feel a thrill when there's a chance of getting caught. Every physical feeling is doubled in intensity. I can get turned on just feeling the feathery fingers of the wind brush across my skin.

Which brings me back to public places in general. The quick, yet intense experience is like no other. The knowledge that you have a limited amount of time that could run out at any second. It is an adrenaline rush. Especially when you can hear people around you, and you have to be quiet-- but all you want to do is make yourself known to the crowd. The feeling builds until you just don't care who sees. In fact, you want them to see, to hear, to feel what you are feeling--because what you feel is too good to keep to yourself.

I love having a contest of wills. However, that is not something I will describe. Either you know how, or you don't.

I love laughter and playing in bed.

I love running my hands down and feeling the definition of his muscles, the texture of his skin, noticing his subtle reactions with my fingertips.

I think I am just realizing again that sex can be enjoyable. Distracting even. It's nice to know there is nothing wrong with me.

I need a shotgun...

I hate stupid redneck bleach blonde fat moronic women!!!!

I got this call from one of our trashy neighbors today. She decided to blame us for something that isn't even our concern. She was full of threats and an ultimatum. Whatever. If she only had a clue.

I have had several run-ins with this bitch. Every time I come away with a pounding headache and an urge to shoot her and put her out of my misery. The world would be better off. I feel sorry for her kids. She has three. An older son that beats her. A younger son that is trying to be as bad ass as possible. And a little girl that is too young for me to be bothered by-- yet. God, she'll probably turn out just like her mother. Or worse, like one of the sons. They would be better off as wards of the state. At least then they would be watched.

Her younger son even pulled his shit on my kid. And get this: Dumb Bitch wanted us all to be friends afterwards, and even invited us over for dinner. AS IF!!!!!!!

I swear she wasn't just dropped on her head as a child-- her head was used as a hammer. Fucking Dumb Bitch.

I hate stupidity--in all forms. But the redneck variety really gets to me more than the others. False beliefs and threats. God! What is wrong with these people?!?!?

I'm being told she isn't even worth responding to. We should just ignore her. Now I'm trying to decide if that is the best course of action. And since I can't think straight through all my fantasies of her death at my hands... It's kind of hard to make any kind of decision.

Fucking Stupid Whore Bitch CUNT!!!!!!!!!!

Wouldn't it be great?

There are two kinds of schools we should all be required to attend.

One is a style school: A school where we will all learn what clothes/hair/make up looks good on us for our body type/skin tone/hair color. Wouldn't it be nice to remove all the eyesores?


The other is sex school: There are so many out there that don't have a clue what they are doing. I know I've been bored almost to tears before. And I'm not the only one. So many people believe that if the right area gets touched, it's good enough. Geez, People! It's not where, it's HOW. If it seems like you aren't putting any effort into it, or just doing the same thing over and over and over... Then, unless you are with an extremely sensitive partner, it won't have the effect you are hoping for. Besides, does anyone really want to be known as a lousy lay? No one does, yet very few work on improving their technique. It doesn't happen automatically. You don't just keep cycling through partners until you find one that likes what you do-- you should be able to please just about everybody (but not do everybody). Unfortunately, this takes effort. And paying attention. And you have to be willing to listen. And not get offended when someone describes what they like. All in all, you have to be comfortable with yourself. If you aren't, do everybody a favor, and keep your clothes on.

Damn it!!

I can't believe he's conceding. Hasn't anybody ever heard of patience? Geez, so we all have to wait till Thursday to find out. Oh fucking well. But no, after all this, he is just giving up-- because of a 'statistical improbability'. WHATEVER.

I, for one, would like to find out what the numbers say.

Recent Decision

I have made a decision. I am a definite fan of hair pulling.

And the next person that tells me to cut my hair, I'm gonna smack 'em with it.

A Random (Adult) Fantasy

I would love for this to happen sometime. At least, in my safe fantasy world...

I want to be overpowered by an attractive unknown guy. I want him to surprise me by grabbing me, spinning me around, and ignoring any exclamations I make. In fact, I want him to slam me against the nearest vertical surface, press against me, and kiss me-- until I forget what my exclamation was. I want him to notice when I start getting into it, and let me reach for him, touch him, let me feel comfortable... And then slam me back, restraining any kind of movement I might want to make.

And then just stopping... Walking away...

Again, allowing me to get comfortable with the new situation. Letting me believe that it was a random happening. Relaxing, catching my breath, moving on...

Until he makes it clear he isn't finished. He was just toying with me, making sure I knew he was in charge. I have two choices: I can give in or I can fight him. But I don't want to fight him. I feel myself giving into him. Anything he wants, I now want. No matter what poses, positions, or activities he chooses, I willingly give in.

And I never regret it.

*happy sigh*

You ever have one of those curl up and be cozy days? Today is one of those days. It felt like a crime to give up my body pillow, and actually join the awake and aware.
I felt so warm and safe-- like a lazy Sunday morning at the beach house, when you are all alone (no noisy relatives), and it's a beautiful day. You slowly stretch, and smile, and generally look forward to the day.
I almost wish there was a beach I could take a walk on today. With the dogs, of course.
At the same time, I am really enjoying hanging out in my comfy PJs, delaying as long as possible the need to get dressed. Because clothing will become an issue in a couple hours. Well, maybe not an issue-- but I will have to make myself 'public worthy'. At the very least, not pajamas. But maybe some of my hippie clothes that are as comfy as PJs... Now there's an idea.


On a completely different note... Does anyone else out there feel sorry for Mario? I mean, the poor plumber dude always having to run and jump (while getting burned, crushed, or beaten in the process) all for the love and safety of a Princess that can't manage to stay home for an entire day? And, to top it all off, he's never gonna get anywhere with her. She's a Princess, for Pete's sake! And he is just a short hairy plumber. Poor guy.