Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Another Sleepless...
I haven't been asleep since yesterday afternoon around 4, a quick nap before I had to be up for dinner with my roomie at 7.I got home from dinner at 10:30. Took a shower and put my jammies on...
I laid down last night around 11:45... hoping to snuggle down in my bed and enjoy a good nights sleep.
My eyes were tired...burning.
I was ready to rest them.
...but my mind was not ready for sleep.
One word kept repeating itself in my mind space...matter of fact, it was so loud that it echo'd as it bounced off my skull...
Liar.
Here it is...almost 7am and I haven't slept.
I am humiliated and disrespected. Yet, still expected to share the same space as the one that has humiliated me and disrespected me.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Ha!
I've always liked this song...childish though it is...sometimes a song can say exactly how you feel...
Monday, March 23, 2009
Judging, Patterns & War
It would be two nights in a row that I have not been able to get a good night sleep. Then some wonder why I am not at my best the following day. Making haphazard comments to a situation they created.
First night:
Would seem that Dude has taken something and made it into something else…quite huge in his minds eye. Problem is, he’s taken someone else’s shit and applied it to me…thinking his 2+2 has added up to 4…when in reality…one of the easiest equations has him coming up with an answer that is more like…4,987,642…basically the wrong answer. Convince him though I try…he seems
to think he knows everything, years into something that started years before he was even thought of. I am not…or ever have been…harlemknights.
So, since I can’t convince him…he gets out his ice-pick and starts to gouge away at my integrity and my judgment…or wait… his wording, he…
“questions my judgments with how I choose my friends and my relationships”.
Yea, he stabs away like crows, picking the dead eye-balls of road-kill.
Well…since he wasn’t around during any of my relationships and consistently has questioned my friendships…he really doesn’t know what he is talking about and when I try to explain…he literally laughs in my face as if I have reason to lie…now. Which I don’t since everything has been laid on the table…I have no reason to make myself look better or worse. I have been an open book but…for some ass-backwards reason…he keeps wanting to add his own version of chapters into my life’s story.
So I start to think that he isn’t really talking about my past “ships”…he’s talking about my current relationship.
After all, he has the right to talk about that…he knows all about what is going on now with me to make a comment like that. He knows all the intimate details of this relationship…
…so maybe, he is questioning my judgment about, why I am with him.
He wouldn’t be far off in his questioning then…
You see, I have questioned this relationship and where it is and how solid it is, where it is going, where it can go, and whether his past behavior would resurface if we happened to go to the next level…like maybe moving in together. Almost two years into it and I still question those things and many more, which leads one to believe…he hasn’t made me feel to secure in this current relationship. Yet, he questions past relationships. Compares similarities in my character but fails to think about the similarities in his character along side past men I have dated. He doesn't look at what the whole picture could be...but picks apart pieces he likes to exploit to his advantage. All and all...he shouldn't compare any of it...he should focus on trying to make this relationship right...rather than focus on the past with me and other men. The past is the past for a reason...he obviously didn't read my Jan. 15th post...
A friend of his said that I should respect his situation and I almost stopped breathing at the stupidity and audacity of that comment…
Dude doesn’t even respect his own situation…so why the hell would I?
Fuck his situation is what I say. He chose it, not I. I chose him…based on a lie. So…to ask me to be understanding of a situation that is some bullshit…fuck that.
And yet, another friend of his told me that I could have what he has but not with who I am with. Coming from who it came from…seemed like some bullshit, considering I don’t care for that particular friend of Dude’s.
But in reality, his words were true.
The longer I am with him…the more it’s harder to stay in something that has more chances of horribly blowing up in my face, than coming out smelling like roses. It’s a struggle to be with a man you love, knowing that that man is always trying to justify all his wrongs with declarations that are practically impossible to follow thru on or complete. Which inevitably, has him coming out looking like a huge liar, even though I think I know what is going on.
But I chose him. And I choose him still.
And he…well he, sits back and tells me… that he questions my judgment.
*rolling my eyes at his fucking nerve*
So again, his comment about my judgment…well…he obviously meant him since he hasn’t been getting my past life right as of yet.
I wrote a post about 2 years back… in that post I said…
You can’t ask God for good when you consciously, consistently and routinely are doing bad. How does he reward you when you repeatedly slap him in the face?
I am lying in the bed I made.
Whether I lie down with fleas and get up with fleas…has yet to be seen.
But chances are…
Second night:
Have you ever run across someone that…
Would rather lie to you than tell you the truth and be in some discomfort for a moment?
Then they pass it off as “sparing your feelings”…
Label it as a “little white lie”…
Or maybe get defensive because they know that that one act is more self-serving and selfish than they would like to believe.
They have it all plotted out in their mind as to what they are going to do or say… so that you don’t know the conniving that went into a small unfortunate “story”…
But you do.
Because although it’s a different lie…oh, excuse me, story/explanation…you’ve seen the pattern before.
[A quilt-maker rarely changes up thier pattern once they have started thier work. They may change colors or prints but thier pattern stays the same distinct signature work; it is thier blue-print. You know thier work because you’ve seen it before. They stick to it, so that there is fluidity to thier design. And when they are done, they hand it over for you to wrap yourself in the warmth of the design they've created; the finished product./]
Well…
I know this particular pattern…have seen past designs…all different…but the same.
An hour before he left…I knew he wanted to go home which made me flash-back to 7 hours prior when he received a phone call… he told me what was said but waved it off as whatever…and not completing his sentence went onto another topic.
So as he was getting dressed, I laid there in the dark at 230 in the morning, wondering…all this could have been avoided. But rather, he played it out and then at the last minute…came up with a reason to go… when he already had a reason to go.
He just needed to let me know…he just needed to speak up. But rather than do that…he’d just lead me on.
He stays more nights than he doesn’t. Had he told me he was going, would have been fine (as I wasn’t feeling well in the tummy anyway)…yet, all warm and cozy in the bed spooning and sleeping at 230am, he jumps up and still…silently puts his shit on to leave, when I have to ask where the hell is he going. Even then he says, Well Bloop, I told you I had to get home….
No…...you didn’t.
You told someone else that; told yourself that…but never told me that, bastard.
So long after he left, I sat in my bed, tv on because... what women feels comfortable having her "man" walk out of the door at 230 in the morning, who sleeps well once that happens? And with that...I end up going back to the previous night when he told me...
He questions my judgment in choosing friendships and relationships because as he has read and reminds me…I have been here...left in the middle of the night...before.
So in reality (since he likes to throw it in my face)... he is just like the men in my past...leaving me at 230 in the morning. Yea, I guess he is right, I should question my judgment in choosing men...
At 530am, I finally laid down and went to sleep.
Here I am, two sleepless nights…and all because this man puts so much stress on my brain. Then laughs it off…
…like yesterday morning after questioning my judgment the night before…he says,
“I don’t see why you just didn’t lay down and go to sleep.” *he;chuckle chuckle*
I didn’t laugh with him…I silently called him a punk because with that comment…he makes me think…he planned it, made me feel 2 inches tall so that later he could come back and be the saviour to a situation that he created...it's called...drama.
I wanted to say…
“Maybe because…
Your need to have a semblance of control over my life has finally seeped over to now…needing to control my emotions and my thoughts, ass!”
I have unconsciously given him power over how I am going to act, feel and think... I have.
Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
...and yet...I stay.
Can’t sleep when my logical and illogical minds are at war…
I have got to get a fucking life. Got to get some fucking friends.
Or move my ass back to NYC and settle down and marry a nice Jewish man...either way…I’d be done with warring. Wouldn’t I?
Like Sam's song...but not...
A change has got to come!
**Slish asked me to write a post about dating. He tried to tell me I was a master at dating and that I knew how to get a man and keep a man...
I am a fraud. I thought I was something different, that I had paid attention and maybe knew a little something extra... Clearly, I am just the average chick that got caught up in some bullshit that turned me into ...ordinary and basic....and on occassion...pathetic.
First night:
Would seem that Dude has taken something and made it into something else…quite huge in his minds eye. Problem is, he’s taken someone else’s shit and applied it to me…thinking his 2+2 has added up to 4…when in reality…one of the easiest equations has him coming up with an answer that is more like…4,987,642…basically the wrong answer. Convince him though I try…he seems
to think he knows everything, years into something that started years before he was even thought of. I am not…or ever have been…harlemknights. So, since I can’t convince him…he gets out his ice-pick and starts to gouge away at my integrity and my judgment…or wait… his wording, he…
“questions my judgments with how I choose my friends and my relationships”.
Yea, he stabs away like crows, picking the dead eye-balls of road-kill.
Well…since he wasn’t around during any of my relationships and consistently has questioned my friendships…he really doesn’t know what he is talking about and when I try to explain…he literally laughs in my face as if I have reason to lie…now. Which I don’t since everything has been laid on the table…I have no reason to make myself look better or worse. I have been an open book but…for some ass-backwards reason…he keeps wanting to add his own version of chapters into my life’s story.
So I start to think that he isn’t really talking about my past “ships”…he’s talking about my current relationship.
After all, he has the right to talk about that…he knows all about what is going on now with me to make a comment like that. He knows all the intimate details of this relationship…
…so maybe, he is questioning my judgment about, why I am with him.
He wouldn’t be far off in his questioning then…
You see, I have questioned this relationship and where it is and how solid it is, where it is going, where it can go, and whether his past behavior would resurface if we happened to go to the next level…like maybe moving in together. Almost two years into it and I still question those things and many more, which leads one to believe…he hasn’t made me feel to secure in this current relationship. Yet, he questions past relationships. Compares similarities in my character but fails to think about the similarities in his character along side past men I have dated. He doesn't look at what the whole picture could be...but picks apart pieces he likes to exploit to his advantage. All and all...he shouldn't compare any of it...he should focus on trying to make this relationship right...rather than focus on the past with me and other men. The past is the past for a reason...he obviously didn't read my Jan. 15th post...
A friend of his said that I should respect his situation and I almost stopped breathing at the stupidity and audacity of that comment…
Dude doesn’t even respect his own situation…so why the hell would I?
Fuck his situation is what I say. He chose it, not I. I chose him…based on a lie. So…to ask me to be understanding of a situation that is some bullshit…fuck that.
And yet, another friend of his told me that I could have what he has but not with who I am with. Coming from who it came from…seemed like some bullshit, considering I don’t care for that particular friend of Dude’s.
But in reality, his words were true.
The longer I am with him…the more it’s harder to stay in something that has more chances of horribly blowing up in my face, than coming out smelling like roses. It’s a struggle to be with a man you love, knowing that that man is always trying to justify all his wrongs with declarations that are practically impossible to follow thru on or complete. Which inevitably, has him coming out looking like a huge liar, even though I think I know what is going on.
But I chose him. And I choose him still.
And he…well he, sits back and tells me… that he questions my judgment.
*rolling my eyes at his fucking nerve*
So again, his comment about my judgment…well…he obviously meant him since he hasn’t been getting my past life right as of yet.
I wrote a post about 2 years back… in that post I said…
You can’t ask God for good when you consciously, consistently and routinely are doing bad. How does he reward you when you repeatedly slap him in the face?
I am lying in the bed I made.
Whether I lie down with fleas and get up with fleas…has yet to be seen.
But chances are…
Second night:
Have you ever run across someone that…
Would rather lie to you than tell you the truth and be in some discomfort for a moment?
Then they pass it off as “sparing your feelings”…
Label it as a “little white lie”…
Or maybe get defensive because they know that that one act is more self-serving and selfish than they would like to believe.
They have it all plotted out in their mind as to what they are going to do or say… so that you don’t know the conniving that went into a small unfortunate “story”…
But you do.
Because although it’s a different lie…oh, excuse me, story/explanation…you’ve seen the pattern before.
[A quilt-maker rarely changes up thier pattern once they have started thier work. They may change colors or prints but thier pattern stays the same distinct signature work; it is thier blue-print. You know thier work because you’ve seen it before. They stick to it, so that there is fluidity to thier design. And when they are done, they hand it over for you to wrap yourself in the warmth of the design they've created; the finished product./]
Well…
I know this particular pattern…have seen past designs…all different…but the same.
An hour before he left…I knew he wanted to go home which made me flash-back to 7 hours prior when he received a phone call… he told me what was said but waved it off as whatever…and not completing his sentence went onto another topic.
So as he was getting dressed, I laid there in the dark at 230 in the morning, wondering…all this could have been avoided. But rather, he played it out and then at the last minute…came up with a reason to go… when he already had a reason to go.
He just needed to let me know…he just needed to speak up. But rather than do that…he’d just lead me on.
He stays more nights than he doesn’t. Had he told me he was going, would have been fine (as I wasn’t feeling well in the tummy anyway)…yet, all warm and cozy in the bed spooning and sleeping at 230am, he jumps up and still…silently puts his shit on to leave, when I have to ask where the hell is he going. Even then he says, Well Bloop, I told you I had to get home….
No…...you didn’t.
You told someone else that; told yourself that…but never told me that, bastard.
So long after he left, I sat in my bed, tv on because... what women feels comfortable having her "man" walk out of the door at 230 in the morning, who sleeps well once that happens? And with that...I end up going back to the previous night when he told me...
He questions my judgment in choosing friendships and relationships because as he has read and reminds me…I have been here...left in the middle of the night...before.
So in reality (since he likes to throw it in my face)... he is just like the men in my past...leaving me at 230 in the morning. Yea, I guess he is right, I should question my judgment in choosing men...
At 530am, I finally laid down and went to sleep.
Here I am, two sleepless nights…and all because this man puts so much stress on my brain. Then laughs it off…
…like yesterday morning after questioning my judgment the night before…he says,
“I don’t see why you just didn’t lay down and go to sleep.” *he;chuckle chuckle*
I didn’t laugh with him…I silently called him a punk because with that comment…he makes me think…he planned it, made me feel 2 inches tall so that later he could come back and be the saviour to a situation that he created...it's called...drama.
I wanted to say…
“Maybe because…
Your need to have a semblance of control over my life has finally seeped over to now…needing to control my emotions and my thoughts, ass!”
I have unconsciously given him power over how I am going to act, feel and think... I have.
Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
...and yet...I stay.
Can’t sleep when my logical and illogical minds are at war…
I have got to get a fucking life. Got to get some fucking friends.
Or move my ass back to NYC and settle down and marry a nice Jewish man...either way…I’d be done with warring. Wouldn’t I?
Like Sam's song...but not...
A change has got to come!
**Slish asked me to write a post about dating. He tried to tell me I was a master at dating and that I knew how to get a man and keep a man...
I am a fraud. I thought I was something different, that I had paid attention and maybe knew a little something extra... Clearly, I am just the average chick that got caught up in some bullshit that turned me into ...ordinary and basic....and on occassion...pathetic.
# posted by Blah Blah Blah : 10:04 AM
Saturday, March 21, 2009
If I Was Your Girlfriend...
It didn’t hit me until I was channel surfing…landed and stayed on a sex-n-da-city episode where the red head’s mother had passed away and the short main character with the blonde hair showed up to her mothers funeral…because that’s what friends do in support of their friends.It hit me that… I don’t have anyone that I can congregate with like that…to sit down and commune with, the way that girlfriends do. I don’t have anyone I can talk to. Very randomly I may get or send off a text with the whimsical and sarcastic comment or two about what is going on with us.
I think my last text was from Dallas who said,
“Damn Craig, what the fuck you doin’ up there?”…. it was in reference to me telling her about my added few pounds, in response to me calling her a biotch for her telling me she was weighing 135 and having a perky onion booty at the age of 44.
Right off the bat, I knew her reference to Friday...because I know that is her fav movie and she'll quote from it like it was her bible, we know eachother...and that's what friends are for... to remember the silly shit.
But you see…no moments of going to brunch, sitting and talking about everything under the sun. No girls-night-out. No wine fest on the floor of the livingroom in the midst of tears and laughter. Matter-of-fact, I don’t think there is one person that I can tell everything to comfortably. Now mind you, I still have my friends from back in Cal…but, 5 years removed and you start to lose that “connection” that you once had. I can still pick up the phone and call them and talk at anytime…but I don’t because…well, it’s not the same as having someone that knows what is going on now …experiences things with me…now. I miss them terribly.
My only true “girlfriend” is Dude and even then…everything I am doing and everything I am experiencing is with Dude. So…it’s not the same. Who do I talk to about Dude??
I know he wishes I had female friends…because he has talked so much about his past relationships, where he and his boys would meet up with her and her girls… (although, to me that sounds very single in a detached relationship type of way, go figure)
I say that…but I also believe that somewhere in the back of Dude’s mind… in his insecure and narcissistic way…he likes that he is the center of my attention and center of my universe (my universe being the DC metro area) I suppose any man would like that in theory. I believe it is a catch-22 for him, as well, as it is for me.
The only “friend” I have here, in the area, is Cortney…and even with that…it’s hard to maintain a friendship with a man, in the midst of a relationship with another man. Cortney and Dude have been around each other a few times…5, I think… so Dude knows that Cort is just my friend. But I know that Cortney and I can laugh and be silly…and Dude, sometimes, just doesn’t understand how I can have fun with another man that is not him, without it being more than just friendship. Which silently speaks volumes about how he views his female friends. He wants what Cortney and I have. And he does have it…and more! Whereas, I don’t have what he and his friends have. Not his male friends or his female friends (that he says he doesn’t talk to…but he does)…
I just ask that he be true to our friendship and our relationship…and to me.
Which, he can’t even do.
But yet, here he is…Dude is my best “girlfriend”.
I definitely need to acquire some girlfriends to talk to, laugh with, cry on, hang out with… So dude can go back to being my man.
My man shouldn’t be my girlfriend…Altho, let Prince tell it…he should be.
~~~~
If I was your girlfriend
Would u remember 2 tell me all the things u forgot
When I was your man?
Hey, when I was your man
If I was your best friend
Would u let me take care of u and do all the things
That only a best friend can
Only best friends can
If I was your girlfriend
Would u let me dress u
I mean, help u pick out your clothes
Before we go out
Not that youre helpless
But sometimes, sometimes
Those are the things that bein in loves about
If I was your one and only friend
Would u run 2 me if somebody hurt u
Even if that somebody was me?
Sometimes I trip on how happy we could be
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Boogie Oogie Oogie
I Love the Nightlife
Ooooh I, I love the nightlife
I got to boogie
On the disco 'round, oh yea
Oh, I love the night life
I got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea
Please don't talk about love tonight
Please don't talk about sweet love
Please don't talk about being true
And all the trouble we've been through
Ah, please don't talk about all of the plans
We had for fixin' this broken romance
I want to go where the people dance
I want some actionI want to live
Action, I got so much to give
I want to give itI want to get some too
Ooooh I, I love the nightlifeI got to boogie
On the disco 'round, oh yea
Oh, I love the night lifeI got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea
Please don't talk about love tonight
Your sweet talking won't make it right
Love and lies just bring me down
When you've got women all over town
You can love them all and when you're through
Maybe that'll make, huh, a man out of you
I got to go where the people danceI want some action
I want to live
Action
I got so much to giveI want to give it
I want to get some tooOh I, I love the nightlifeI got to boogie
On the disco 'round, oh yea
Oh, I love the night life
I got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea
Ooooh I, I love the nightlife
I got to boogie
On the disco 'round, oh yea
Oh, I love the night life
I got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea
Please don't talk about love tonight
Please don't talk about sweet love
Please don't talk about being true
And all the trouble we've been through
Ah, please don't talk about all of the plans
We had for fixin' this broken romance
I want to go where the people dance
I want some actionI want to live
Action, I got so much to give
I want to give itI want to get some too
Ooooh I, I love the nightlifeI got to boogie
On the disco 'round, oh yea
Oh, I love the night lifeI got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea
Please don't talk about love tonight
Your sweet talking won't make it right
Love and lies just bring me down
When you've got women all over town
You can love them all and when you're through
Maybe that'll make, huh, a man out of you
I got to go where the people danceI want some action
I want to live
Action
I got so much to giveI want to give it
I want to get some tooOh I, I love the nightlifeI got to boogie
On the disco 'round, oh yea
Oh, I love the night life
I got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Ummm, In Da Bum-Bum...
So it turns out I am the freak nasty when drunk…lol
Who knew?! I mean, I am drunk which means my memory is all sketchy and whatnot when I am inebriated…so…I didn’t really think it was me that was the one that was, or might have precipitated some…ummm-you-in-my-bumm? …
Ummm, freak nasty is me.
So, I am about to go T.M.I…
I mean more than normal. No comment needed…I am just trying to figure this shit out.
…aaaaand…START!
Bum-bum plug.
Got one.
Walked into a local sex shop that was RIGHT on front street…during rush hour traffic. No hiding while making my way inside…so fuck it, head held high and with a little swagger but not enough to be considered cheap…I walked right up to the door and walked right in like… it was a 7-11...or a Safeway.
Normally all that is not needed ‘cause ain’t no shame in my sex game…but here I am in Virginia…and the front door facing Hwy 1 and again, it’s rush hour…
…I walk in and 10 white men…no, no, no…10 very white men in trucker hats, wrangler jeans and cowboy boots look up as I walk in…
Intimidated am I.
See, in NYC, in the village…I am usually walking into the sex shop and seeing lezzies, bois, or couples…never JUST white cowboys. Me not being white…or a man…or a dyke…
…but being a soft-little-bundle-of-finger-licking-golden-goodness…
Got all girly, shy and shit.
I ain’t never been shy about my sex shit YO!
So I slink…
Slink around looking for a bum-bum plug.
I knew what I wanted…
Knew what I was looking for…
Knew I was buying that shit TO-day!
And more than likely…using it TO-day!
But I still slinked in…walked along one side of the store…and avoided eye contact…as much as possible. In this overly fluorescent lit sex shop. Virginia is wack…make you feel all shameful for wanting (read: needing) some autonomous sex! Bastards!
Back to the plug and how I have been needing it…needing it baaaad.
I got it.
…and another something else that-is-not-important-to-this-story-even-though-it-is-also-a-purchase-from-this-sex-shop…
Back story on the need for pleasure in the danger zone…
I don’t think I can feel dick like I used to feel dick. And I don’t feel like it matters how many times a day I exercise with the Kegel’s… I just don’t feel it like I used to. Now when I say “feel it”…I am not referring to a penis. You see, every now and then (now more than then)…I have been …umm…self pleasuring. But not really just “self”, considering I need other devices…
I am referring to...
It's a clenching thing.
And then it's a stretching thing.
Or it might be the added little "stress" to an area I need.
Like needing my hair pulled.
Or my ass slapped.
Or...well hopefully you get it.
...devices ‘cause... my arm gets too tired with all that hand-arm motion. Seriously…I can’t understand how y’all men don’t end up with either tendonitis in the wrist or “tennis” elbow from all that vigorous waxing of the monkey (is it called waxing the monkey?)…choking the chicken… masturbating! Y’all go at it much stronger than women do…and it’s crazy that I don’t see more men with thier arm in slings.
Ummm, START….again!
So I may or may not pleasure myself and I may or may not feel the need to see if there are other areas of my luscious body that might like to be pleasured…
(…if I am or am not self pleasuring…)
I came…(or is that cummed)…and can I say…that cumming is mo’ betta when you discover that there is another reason to praise all that god has made me to feel…and made me to be. Just sayin’… instead of being prudish all these years…I should have went and made this purchase at least 9 years ago…
But I guess there is a time and place for everything.
Am I ready for male anatomy?
If I am drunk? Definitely
If I am sober? Get that shit away from me.
My plug is less than 4 inches long and 1 ½ inches in width…
So if penis is bigger than a magic marker…I don’t want it in my ass…
And if it’s smaller than a magic marker…I don’t want it in my slippery goodness...up front.
Thankfully Dude is bigger…but unfortunately not smaller…which in and of itself is better overall…
I can be satisfied with my purchase, with this recent curiosity and also be very satisfied with the real deal that Dude blesses me with.
Altho, I can't overuse the bum-bum toy...I heard your ass gets lax and it all just... falls out... Am I too old to believe that? I think I may have to do some research on anal... right now!
Sidenote: Hehehe…that first paragraph said a lot that didn’t really coincide with the rest of my story…but fuck it.
Also, I really hope my reading audience (what's left) isn't coming over here to get any real substantial world current events...it's just me and my meanderings...which as far as I am concerned...is some substantial current events...LOL
Who knew?! I mean, I am drunk which means my memory is all sketchy and whatnot when I am inebriated…so…I didn’t really think it was me that was the one that was, or might have precipitated some…ummm-you-in-my-bumm? …
Ummm, freak nasty is me.
So, I am about to go T.M.I…
I mean more than normal. No comment needed…I am just trying to figure this shit out.
…aaaaand…START!
Bum-bum plug.
Got one.
Walked into a local sex shop that was RIGHT on front street…during rush hour traffic. No hiding while making my way inside…so fuck it, head held high and with a little swagger but not enough to be considered cheap…I walked right up to the door and walked right in like… it was a 7-11...or a Safeway.
Normally all that is not needed ‘cause ain’t no shame in my sex game…but here I am in Virginia…and the front door facing Hwy 1 and again, it’s rush hour…
…I walk in and 10 white men…no, no, no…10 very white men in trucker hats, wrangler jeans and cowboy boots look up as I walk in…
Intimidated am I.
See, in NYC, in the village…I am usually walking into the sex shop and seeing lezzies, bois, or couples…never JUST white cowboys. Me not being white…or a man…or a dyke…
…but being a soft-little-bundle-of-finger-licking-golden-goodness…
Got all girly, shy and shit.
I ain’t never been shy about my sex shit YO!
So I slink…
Slink around looking for a bum-bum plug.
I knew what I wanted…
Knew what I was looking for…
Knew I was buying that shit TO-day!
And more than likely…using it TO-day!
But I still slinked in…walked along one side of the store…and avoided eye contact…as much as possible. In this overly fluorescent lit sex shop. Virginia is wack…make you feel all shameful for wanting (read: needing) some autonomous sex! Bastards!
Back to the plug and how I have been needing it…needing it baaaad.
I got it.
…and another something else that-is-not-important-to-this-story-even-though-it-is-also-a-purchase-from-this-sex-shop…
Back story on the need for pleasure in the danger zone…
I don’t think I can feel dick like I used to feel dick. And I don’t feel like it matters how many times a day I exercise with the Kegel’s… I just don’t feel it like I used to. Now when I say “feel it”…I am not referring to a penis. You see, every now and then (now more than then)…I have been …umm…self pleasuring. But not really just “self”, considering I need other devices…
I am referring to...
It's a clenching thing.
And then it's a stretching thing.
Or it might be the added little "stress" to an area I need.
Like needing my hair pulled.
Or my ass slapped.
Or...well hopefully you get it.
...devices ‘cause... my arm gets too tired with all that hand-arm motion. Seriously…I can’t understand how y’all men don’t end up with either tendonitis in the wrist or “tennis” elbow from all that vigorous waxing of the monkey (is it called waxing the monkey?)…choking the chicken… masturbating! Y’all go at it much stronger than women do…and it’s crazy that I don’t see more men with thier arm in slings.
Ummm, START….again!
So I may or may not pleasure myself and I may or may not feel the need to see if there are other areas of my luscious body that might like to be pleasured…
(…if I am or am not self pleasuring…)
I came…(or is that cummed)…and can I say…that cumming is mo’ betta when you discover that there is another reason to praise all that god has made me to feel…and made me to be. Just sayin’… instead of being prudish all these years…I should have went and made this purchase at least 9 years ago…
But I guess there is a time and place for everything.
Am I ready for male anatomy?
If I am drunk? Definitely
If I am sober? Get that shit away from me.
My plug is less than 4 inches long and 1 ½ inches in width…
So if penis is bigger than a magic marker…I don’t want it in my ass…
And if it’s smaller than a magic marker…I don’t want it in my slippery goodness...up front.
Thankfully Dude is bigger…but unfortunately not smaller…which in and of itself is better overall…
I can be satisfied with my purchase, with this recent curiosity and also be very satisfied with the real deal that Dude blesses me with.
Altho, I can't overuse the bum-bum toy...I heard your ass gets lax and it all just... falls out... Am I too old to believe that? I think I may have to do some research on anal... right now!
Sidenote: Hehehe…that first paragraph said a lot that didn’t really coincide with the rest of my story…but fuck it.
Also, I really hope my reading audience (what's left) isn't coming over here to get any real substantial world current events...it's just me and my meanderings...which as far as I am concerned...is some substantial current events...LOL
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Madness & The Way It Goes
Now I don’t normally critique Madness (read: porn)…matter of fact, other than the Madness I was watching where the woman had some ghetto tattoos around the areola of her nipples…Madness is ok with me.
However, this afternoon I was sitting and watching some Madness on the laptop while also watching King of Queens on tv… I ran across a video of a black man with a big ass thingy…and he was getting some head from an older white lady…older meaning 40 something…
Anyway…in the midst of getting his thingy slobbered down…he starts to talk to her…about…
Sucking his ni99er cock.
THE HELL???!!
He kept asking her to tell him she liked sucking his ni99ER cock. For the longest time she just kept saying what he wanted except the part about “ni99er”. I was just sitting there irritated but still…I watched. I was waiting for her to say it though. LOL
I mean, I sort of was like…she bet’ NOT say it.
She did.
Then after a while she was just saying it on her own without him asking… “I want this ni99er dick in my white puzzy.” Then she switched up by saying…“you like this white puzzy?”
I was too done!! Mad? No. Just incredulous
Budda…it REALLY was a big ass ni99a dick…so…I didn’t stop the video…I just turned off the volume. *smh*
Towards the end I turned the volume back on and I caught him in the middle of saying…he likes her old ass puzzy.
Madness is crazy!!! I need to stop watching it, my brain is going to mush.
With that said…I didn’t make it through Lent; no red meat and no alcohol and no cussing.
I swear to myself that I will make it up to myself. I am ashamed that I couldn’t sacrifice a “want” for 40 days.
Last night while sitting on the couch, eating a slim jim and drinking champagne out of the bottle as I watched Madagascar 2 at 2am…I realized that me going back to work…is going to be hard as hell. I very well might need to find me a side piece to make up for the loss of dividends, should I not get a job soon. Just a thought.
I was drinking champagne straight from the head because…as we all know…being in something with some one isn’t always warm and fuzzy.
If you bring something up…be prepared to talk it through to completion. Don’t pick an argument with me and then want to deflect when your own shit is brought to light. With that, I still walked away knowing I didn’t get my answer verbally from his lips…but I did get my answer by his effort at trying to avoid the question. I know when a question hasn’t been answered regardless how long you postulate about me. All that hot air and you think I was fooled into believing I had:
1. forgot the original question or
2. thought you had answered the question somewhere in that long-winded vague bullshit or
3. get so defensive about what he's saying regarding me that I am either guilty enough to drop the topic or guitly enough to try to explain some made-up point.
C’mon Dude, have more faith in my intelligence.
I finally had to stop him and say… “Ok, I hear what you are saying but obviously you forgot what I asked because you have yet to answer a yes or no question.”
He got mad and pouty and said he answered and I just don’t listen to him. Of course, I had to bullet point everything he said…then asked him where in all that bullshit did he answer my question.
To which he proceeds to ask me, why does everything he say have to be bullshit?…
Which once again starts to take the focus off the main question and has him thinking once again that I will get caught up in this sidebar conversation and forget that ONCE AGAIN…he hasn’t answer my original question yet.
Thing is…I have been in this same situation with every man that I have dealt with. In the back of my mind I am mentally just shaking my head and thinking…here we go again and I am going to have to walk him through this like a mother would a child. And as in those cases…that is crazy because this man is older than me!
He knows that I know. He does give me credit for being intelligent enough to know when shit is being avoided. His trick (he thinks) is to get me either tired, exasperated, upset or mad enough that I will just say fuck it…and drop the whole thing. Although, he is getting to know me well enough that IF that happens…it’s not forgotten and will come back up a couple more times…just because he avoided it the first time. In which case…I know that I have given him sufficient time to come up with a suitable answer. So he’s not fooling anyone…
Goes back to, he already answered the question with his refusal to answer it. He hasn’t gotten that part yet. So, regardless what reasonable answer he comes up with later…I’ll always go back to his non-verbal answer he first gave.
Complicated? I’d say yes but because I have dealt with it before…and more pointedly…dealt with him and know how he is…I get it and I see why he does the things he does. Do I agree? No. But I at least understand it enough not to take a fork to his jugular
Because I am irritated and still slightly mad… needing a high and to laugh and I being slightly hungry…
It’s champagne and slim jim’s at 2 in the morning…laughing my ass off at the lemurs and the penguins… “I like my nuts served on a silver platter!”
*SIDENOTE: Do all my post have mention of alcohol in them? Don’t answer. Was just another…thought.
However, this afternoon I was sitting and watching some Madness on the laptop while also watching King of Queens on tv… I ran across a video of a black man with a big ass thingy…and he was getting some head from an older white lady…older meaning 40 something…
Anyway…in the midst of getting his thingy slobbered down…he starts to talk to her…about…
Sucking his ni99er cock.
THE HELL???!!
He kept asking her to tell him she liked sucking his ni99ER cock. For the longest time she just kept saying what he wanted except the part about “ni99er”. I was just sitting there irritated but still…I watched. I was waiting for her to say it though. LOL
I mean, I sort of was like…she bet’ NOT say it.
She did.
Then after a while she was just saying it on her own without him asking… “I want this ni99er dick in my white puzzy.” Then she switched up by saying…“you like this white puzzy?”
I was too done!! Mad? No. Just incredulous
Budda…it REALLY was a big ass ni99a dick…so…I didn’t stop the video…I just turned off the volume. *smh*
Towards the end I turned the volume back on and I caught him in the middle of saying…he likes her old ass puzzy.
Madness is crazy!!! I need to stop watching it, my brain is going to mush.
With that said…I didn’t make it through Lent; no red meat and no alcohol and no cussing.
I swear to myself that I will make it up to myself. I am ashamed that I couldn’t sacrifice a “want” for 40 days.
Last night while sitting on the couch, eating a slim jim and drinking champagne out of the bottle as I watched Madagascar 2 at 2am…I realized that me going back to work…is going to be hard as hell. I very well might need to find me a side piece to make up for the loss of dividends, should I not get a job soon. Just a thought.
I was drinking champagne straight from the head because…as we all know…being in something with some one isn’t always warm and fuzzy.
If you bring something up…be prepared to talk it through to completion. Don’t pick an argument with me and then want to deflect when your own shit is brought to light. With that, I still walked away knowing I didn’t get my answer verbally from his lips…but I did get my answer by his effort at trying to avoid the question. I know when a question hasn’t been answered regardless how long you postulate about me. All that hot air and you think I was fooled into believing I had:
1. forgot the original question or
2. thought you had answered the question somewhere in that long-winded vague bullshit or
3. get so defensive about what he's saying regarding me that I am either guilty enough to drop the topic or guitly enough to try to explain some made-up point.
C’mon Dude, have more faith in my intelligence.
I finally had to stop him and say… “Ok, I hear what you are saying but obviously you forgot what I asked because you have yet to answer a yes or no question.”
He got mad and pouty and said he answered and I just don’t listen to him. Of course, I had to bullet point everything he said…then asked him where in all that bullshit did he answer my question.
To which he proceeds to ask me, why does everything he say have to be bullshit?…
Which once again starts to take the focus off the main question and has him thinking once again that I will get caught up in this sidebar conversation and forget that ONCE AGAIN…he hasn’t answer my original question yet.
Thing is…I have been in this same situation with every man that I have dealt with. In the back of my mind I am mentally just shaking my head and thinking…here we go again and I am going to have to walk him through this like a mother would a child. And as in those cases…that is crazy because this man is older than me!
He knows that I know. He does give me credit for being intelligent enough to know when shit is being avoided. His trick (he thinks) is to get me either tired, exasperated, upset or mad enough that I will just say fuck it…and drop the whole thing. Although, he is getting to know me well enough that IF that happens…it’s not forgotten and will come back up a couple more times…just because he avoided it the first time. In which case…I know that I have given him sufficient time to come up with a suitable answer. So he’s not fooling anyone…
Goes back to, he already answered the question with his refusal to answer it. He hasn’t gotten that part yet. So, regardless what reasonable answer he comes up with later…I’ll always go back to his non-verbal answer he first gave.
Complicated? I’d say yes but because I have dealt with it before…and more pointedly…dealt with him and know how he is…I get it and I see why he does the things he does. Do I agree? No. But I at least understand it enough not to take a fork to his jugular
Because I am irritated and still slightly mad… needing a high and to laugh and I being slightly hungry…
It’s champagne and slim jim’s at 2 in the morning…laughing my ass off at the lemurs and the penguins… “I like my nuts served on a silver platter!”
*SIDENOTE: Do all my post have mention of alcohol in them? Don’t answer. Was just another…thought.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
100th Post: Valued
Knowing the difference between being romantic and being…corny…basic…and expected.
I am way bad at deciphering.
Case in point…
I like tulips. Love them matter of fact. Everyone that knows me, knows this…I make sure that they do. So come Valentine’s time I was thinking that I was going to be getting a bouquet of colorful tulips. I knew that I was going to be back in NYC for Valentine’s Day so I wasn’t expecting a delivery but...I was expecting something…
Come the Tuesday before Valentine’s Day Dude comes knocking on my door… I think I was mad at him for this or that, so I didn’t actually open the door for him, I just unlocked it…then walked back downstairs. When I came back into the living room…sitting on my floor was this huge red glass bowl filled with what looked like…stems and leaves and a lot of dirt…no flowers…
Hunh???
I say, What’s that?
He say, Those are your Valentine’s Day flowers.
I am thinking, the hell?!! No blooms, petals…nothing.
I say, What are those, tulips?
He say, Yes. I thought to buy you your own little garden of tulips. Thought that was better than just buying you a bouquet that would die in a couple of days. You keep these and they will bloom over and over, year after year. Then he proceeds to give me a big ol’ school boy smile.
I didn’t smile.
I say, Ok, thanks.
Then I proceed to walk out of the door, since we were on our way out.
That was it…my only thanks, my only comment about his gift of flowers. I thought it was a cheap ass gift. No lie.
I thought about that later as the flowers started to bloom…by the time I came back from NYC…I had a dozen fully bloomed yellow tulips. By myself, I just stood in the middle of my living room, looking at my own little garden and I got way too emotional.
I thought what a bitch I had been…and how I have lost sight of the little things because of the past relationships I expected the big things.
It hurt me…that I had been so ungrateful.
It’s those things that make me wonder…
Yesterday I felt yucky and in pain. I think I have fibroids…well, doc says I might, but she’s a quack [read: standard line when I don’t agree]
The night before, Dude and I had christened my new dining table amidst fishnets, panty ruffles, long strands of pearls, bondage rope and champagne…thus, aggravating my uterus. So yesterday we’re lying down across the couch and watching the last day of, 30 Days of Oscars on AMC.
Out of no where, dude got up to go to the bathroom, I lay back down and dosed off since he was in there for so long.
Then I heard the water running and figured he was about to take a shower. Twenty minutes later he comes into the living room butt-naked and wakes me up, took both my hands as he leads me into the bathroom… he had all the lights off and it was dark as hell at 2 o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon…the only light was from 3 candles flickering, as he proceeds to undress me piece by piece, then we both stepped into the bubble bath he had prepared for us, we lay back and relaxed in the hot water. My back to his chest…he put his arms around me and starts to massage my lower stomach and doesn’t say a word. He then massages my shoulders and gives me lite kisses on my temples as he then slowly traced circles of bubbles around my nipples. I felt him growing against my back…but at no time did he make me feel like what he was doing, was meant to lead to that. He started to lightly hum a song, in between whispered words of love in my ear.
This was clearly not like the times he has offered to wash my hair, when we ended up in the shower with my foot positioned on the soap dish for support/leverage and me bent over with my forehead touching the edge of the tub as water cascades over our joined bodies...
After an hour in the tub, he helps me out of the tub, then he dries me from head to toe and leads me to the bedroom where he massages me down with baby oil and then we both drifted off to sleep, no cuddling, no invasion of my side of the bed…just our legs intertwined....at 3 in the afternoon.
As he was leaving later that evening, he asked if I felt better. I said yes. He smiled and planted a kiss on my forehead and told me that he felt bad, that I felt bad and that he just wanted to relieve me of some of the pain with the hot water and massage.
When I was laying on my couch as he was in the bathroom…thinking he was about to take a shower and head home…I was in pain, feeling tired and maybe even feeling like it would be nice to be in my place by myself…
He was thinking of how he could relieve my pain. Him: sweet and romantic… Me: selfish and wanting to be left alone
Later….I was so grateful and in awe that this man...cares.
You see, I (as most women) am used to getting compliments, used to men doing things for me, used to hearing all the flowery words that as a school girl made me shy…but being a woman full grown has somehow slipped into recognizing the wordplay for the dance that it is and not for the meaning of the words. I’m jaded. I’m recycled goods. I realize that those things and those words are just a part of the ingredients to a well prepared meal…me. I no longer blush at a mans flirt, I no longer say thank you every time that someone tells me I am beautiful, I no longer am surprised by gifts or money…
Yet, with Dude…
I have learned not to expect it. When I was living in NYC…he didn’t do certain things. I did. But…that too was apart of my “dance”. I got accustomed to him not doing things. I always counted myself as a non-romantic…and added him to that as well.
I have lived in the DC area for 6 months now…I am sometimes surprised that we are still “together’. I thought once I moved here that he would slyly make his exit. To the contrary. I am recognizing that he does a lot of small things that have more meaning than all the gifts that I have received from other men. Not only does he do small things…with meaning and love…he also says some things that have more value than money…
He has slowly stepped up to the mic…
…and proceeded to let me know…
He’s not going.
I am way bad at deciphering.
Case in point…
I like tulips. Love them matter of fact. Everyone that knows me, knows this…I make sure that they do. So come Valentine’s time I was thinking that I was going to be getting a bouquet of colorful tulips. I knew that I was going to be back in NYC for Valentine’s Day so I wasn’t expecting a delivery but...I was expecting something…
Come the Tuesday before Valentine’s Day Dude comes knocking on my door… I think I was mad at him for this or that, so I didn’t actually open the door for him, I just unlocked it…then walked back downstairs. When I came back into the living room…sitting on my floor was this huge red glass bowl filled with what looked like…stems and leaves and a lot of dirt…no flowers…
Hunh???
I say, What’s that?
He say, Those are your Valentine’s Day flowers.
I am thinking, the hell?!! No blooms, petals…nothing.
I say, What are those, tulips?
He say, Yes. I thought to buy you your own little garden of tulips. Thought that was better than just buying you a bouquet that would die in a couple of days. You keep these and they will bloom over and over, year after year. Then he proceeds to give me a big ol’ school boy smile.
I didn’t smile.
I say, Ok, thanks.
Then I proceed to walk out of the door, since we were on our way out.
That was it…my only thanks, my only comment about his gift of flowers. I thought it was a cheap ass gift. No lie.
I thought about that later as the flowers started to bloom…by the time I came back from NYC…I had a dozen fully bloomed yellow tulips. By myself, I just stood in the middle of my living room, looking at my own little garden and I got way too emotional.
I thought what a bitch I had been…and how I have lost sight of the little things because of the past relationships I expected the big things.It hurt me…that I had been so ungrateful.
It’s those things that make me wonder…
Yesterday I felt yucky and in pain. I think I have fibroids…well, doc says I might, but she’s a quack [read: standard line when I don’t agree]
The night before, Dude and I had christened my new dining table amidst fishnets, panty ruffles, long strands of pearls, bondage rope and champagne…thus, aggravating my uterus. So yesterday we’re lying down across the couch and watching the last day of, 30 Days of Oscars on AMC.
Out of no where, dude got up to go to the bathroom, I lay back down and dosed off since he was in there for so long.
Then I heard the water running and figured he was about to take a shower. Twenty minutes later he comes into the living room butt-naked and wakes me up, took both my hands as he leads me into the bathroom… he had all the lights off and it was dark as hell at 2 o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon…the only light was from 3 candles flickering, as he proceeds to undress me piece by piece, then we both stepped into the bubble bath he had prepared for us, we lay back and relaxed in the hot water. My back to his chest…he put his arms around me and starts to massage my lower stomach and doesn’t say a word. He then massages my shoulders and gives me lite kisses on my temples as he then slowly traced circles of bubbles around my nipples. I felt him growing against my back…but at no time did he make me feel like what he was doing, was meant to lead to that. He started to lightly hum a song, in between whispered words of love in my ear.
This was clearly not like the times he has offered to wash my hair, when we ended up in the shower with my foot positioned on the soap dish for support/leverage and me bent over with my forehead touching the edge of the tub as water cascades over our joined bodies...
After an hour in the tub, he helps me out of the tub, then he dries me from head to toe and leads me to the bedroom where he massages me down with baby oil and then we both drifted off to sleep, no cuddling, no invasion of my side of the bed…just our legs intertwined....at 3 in the afternoon.
As he was leaving later that evening, he asked if I felt better. I said yes. He smiled and planted a kiss on my forehead and told me that he felt bad, that I felt bad and that he just wanted to relieve me of some of the pain with the hot water and massage.
When I was laying on my couch as he was in the bathroom…thinking he was about to take a shower and head home…I was in pain, feeling tired and maybe even feeling like it would be nice to be in my place by myself…
He was thinking of how he could relieve my pain. Him: sweet and romantic… Me: selfish and wanting to be left alone
Later….I was so grateful and in awe that this man...cares.
You see, I (as most women) am used to getting compliments, used to men doing things for me, used to hearing all the flowery words that as a school girl made me shy…but being a woman full grown has somehow slipped into recognizing the wordplay for the dance that it is and not for the meaning of the words. I’m jaded. I’m recycled goods. I realize that those things and those words are just a part of the ingredients to a well prepared meal…me. I no longer blush at a mans flirt, I no longer say thank you every time that someone tells me I am beautiful, I no longer am surprised by gifts or money…
Yet, with Dude…
I have learned not to expect it. When I was living in NYC…he didn’t do certain things. I did. But…that too was apart of my “dance”. I got accustomed to him not doing things. I always counted myself as a non-romantic…and added him to that as well.
I have lived in the DC area for 6 months now…I am sometimes surprised that we are still “together’. I thought once I moved here that he would slyly make his exit. To the contrary. I am recognizing that he does a lot of small things that have more meaning than all the gifts that I have received from other men. Not only does he do small things…with meaning and love…he also says some things that have more value than money…
He has slowly stepped up to the mic…
…and proceeded to let me know…
He’s not going.
