Dealing with the Dizzies

I don't know how many of you have experience with being on anti-psychotics (the broad term for all that Prozac, Zoloft, Paxil, Wellbutrin, etc family of drugs), but they are a whole barrel of fun.

(EDIT: thanks to naughtsauce for pointing out that anti-depressants != anti-psychotics. Every anti-dep I've been on has been of the SSRI class, which is different. Thanks, and yay for having smart friends!)

First, you start taking one. There's no telling if it will positively impact you until you've been on it for a few weeks or even months. If you then discover that either it doesn't do a damn thing for you, or worse, it makes everything even more horrible, then you get to go through the fun of easing off that medication so you can repeat the whole process with a new one (complete with new side effects!).

In college, My First Time was on Paxil. I had been mega-depressed for weeks and just didn't really know what to do about it. Finally I went to a trusted professor and said to her, so this stuff we're doing in class about Keats? His poem where he wants to die and such? Yeah, um, I TOTALLY GET IT. She marched me right over to the health center and volunteered herself to be my emergency contact and we both signed some sort of weird document saying I promised if I felt suicidal and was on the verge of Juliet-ing myself, I would call her instead.

The head of the counseling center there talked to me for all of 5 minutes before sending me to the campus doc for anti-depressants. The campus doc interrogated me about my weight -

Dr: "Do you have an eating disorder?"
Me: "No."
Dr: *suspicious peer* "No issues with food? (etc etc)"
Me: "None. I eat a lot, and all the time."
Dr: *puts on sympathetic face and Looks Me In The Eyes* "Now... I'm your doctor. You can trust me. You have to be honest with me."
Me: "Holy crap, ask my roommate if you want to! I just have a fast metabolism!"

Finally he prescribed Paxil - conveniently forgetting to mention to me that a common side effect is weight gain, and also that you cannot simply stop taking one of these meds cold turkey.

WeedGirl, Day Two Review

I promise this is not going to become a pot blog, but this is my shiny new thing in my life, so bear with me. I know before I hopped on this train, I was pretty damn curious about the whole thing myself, so I'm guessing I'm not the only one. Although I might be. IN THE WHOLE WORLD... all alone...

Oh, so, yeah. Pot. Last night I checked out another dispensary (or collective, whatever you want to call it). The guys there were nice enough, but not as bubbly and personable as the lady who helped me at my first one. They also had less selection than I'd seen on their website (www.fweedom.com if you're looking). On the upside, the guy who took me back did know his shit, and he was very accommodating of all my questions. Because I was new, he first went through all their products, explaining what they were, how they were used, the benefits, etc. Loads of great info, and I didn't have to stand there and ask question after question.

They had suckers (I picked up a few different flavors to try out), honey, candy bars, sprays, drops, teas, sodas (I got root beer), vitamin waters, and a couple of different kinds of cooking oils (canola and olive are the ones I can remember). I was tempted to get some of the oil, but they were a bit pricier. This place did take cards, but I'm a thrifty gal. Another neat thing about this collective is that they're doing a canned food drive - if you bring in a canned item to donate, you get 25% off your purchase. When it's over, all the food goes to a local food bank. I can definitely get behind that kind of community involvement!

The place itself was very tidy. The lounge area was bright and clean and had a comfy couch and lots of magazines to browse (you have to be escorted to the products area, so you have to wait for someone to be available). The actual merch area was pretty small, but they had quite a bit of stuff. He told me they're planning to start carrying vaporizers soon, too, and they had lots of pipes and other paraphernalia available. 

My next stop is going to be another one that's in my neighborhood and has been around for quite a while. A friend of mine recommended it after reading my last post - I had no idea he was a card-carrying MMJ user! What's the proper term for that, anyway?

So, experiences so far: the people working at the dispensaries are great. Knowledgeable, friendly, approachable. I don't really have much history with pot to be able to compare prices or quality, but I feel like both are good. I'm learning to smoke in tinier puffs so I'm less likely to cough and hurt my throat. Last night I tried 2 bites of my indica cookie, and about 30 minutes later I could barely keep my eyes open. Perfect! I didn't stay asleep as long as I would've liked, but that may come with time. Part of what woke me was the extreme dry mouth I ended up with - any advice on how to preemptively combat that? I knew it was a possibility so I had a water bottle at the ready next to my bed, but I'd prefer to just not have to deal with it. Also, Hedgehog texted me at 230 AM, and I'm a dolt who always forgets to turn off her phone at night. *grumble*

Questions I'm coming up with: if I leave my pipe sitting on the counter overnight with weed in it, is that a bad thing? is my junk gonna get all dried up and icky? Does anyone know what one might have to go through to qualify as a baker for a collective? How can I avoid cotton mouth? Is it weird to join lots of different collectives, especially one right after the other, or is that considered normal for new patients, as we shop around for our favorite one?

It's Not A Crime, It's 420 Time

It's marginally more difficult to get a weed card/green card/MMJ Recommendation in Washington, but not by much. Now that I am a legal pot user, I figured I'd document a bit of my experiences here for those curious.

Snoozin Buddies

I have a confession: I am really bad in bed.

Sleeping, I mean. I don't sleep well, and that makes me a very poor bedmate.

First, it takes me a while to fall asleep. I toss and turn like... well, a thing that tosses and turns a lot. It takes me several tries to get a position that feels juuuuust right so I can actually get to sleep. I start on one side. I try a few arrangements with my arms, then with my legs. Sometimes I shift a bit onto my stomach, then I might shift back. Often I end up in some kind of weird jack-knife position, which is fine when I'm alone, but if you're in the spot next me on the bed, it can lead to a knee in the back. Generally unpleasant.Then I'll switch to the other side and repeat the whole process.

Once I'm done acting like a marionette made of jumping beans (hey, now there's a nice image for your nightmares! YOU'RE WELCOME!), it's still not fun to be under the covers with me. I'm tiny, and I'm always cold, but holy crap do I warm up when I sleep. I have been called a human space heater. My metabolism is just churning away while my brain frolics in dream land, so I'm generating a ton of warmth, and it has nowhere to go thanks to the blankets. I usually start the night all bundled to the gills, but I wake up with blankets, socks, and pajama pants all thrown asunder. With yet another body thrown into this furnace, it just gets to be too much and I can't sleep at all. I'm back to tossing, turning, flinging blankets about, and being an all-around bed nuisance.

Then we have more tossing. More turning. I think this is probably how I get most of my exercise, actually. I wake up about 549862 times a night, and almost every time, a position change is required, even if just a tiny one. If I don't move/change sides/flail about, my joints start hurting like a mofo, and that makes for a very unhappy me. I don't think I've punched anyone in the face yet, but I have kicked, headbutted, and kneed my poor sleeping partners.

Do I snore? I've been told that sometimes I do, but I've also been told these snores are "tiny and cute." Sometimes, though, I get all congested and my unconscious self decides the solution to not being able to breathe through my nose is to just breathe through my mouth. Logical. Except, there I am, on my side with my mouth open, and did you know that you don't swallow in your sleep? When I was about 6 or 7, I watched a friend taking a nap at our babysitter's house, because I wanted to accurately be able to feign sleep. That... hmm. That sounds rather creepy now that I'm admitting it, but come on! I was little, it was the middle of the afternoon, and it was FOR SCIENCE! If something is FOR SCIENCE! that means it's okay. Anyway, point being, open mouth + no swallowing = drooooooool. Sexy. You want this. Don't deny it.

I was thinking about all this last night as I was careening around* my queen bed solo, enjoying being able to fling my legs any which way I pleased. Sharing my bed with a new person is always hard, because I want to appear like I have perfect sleep manners... so basically, I sleep in tiny little 5 minute increments, which are cushioned by ridiculously long periods of laying awake, as still as possible, thinking about all the ways I wish I could arrange my limbs but desperately willing my body not to follow through on those impulses. Sharing the other person's bed with said new person is just double the issues, and the first time that happens, I'm lucky if I get any sleep at all. I love you, sleep! I do, truly and deeply! Why are you so evasive with me?

Anyone else a sleeptard?

*I realize I could have chosen another way to describe this, but the mental image I got of myself careening around a bed like an untied balloon just cracked me up.

How NOT to Kiss

I've smooched some bad kissers in my day. In college there was a fella who seemed to think he should be inhaling during the makeouts, so that when we pulled apart there was an audible popping noise.Thus we have:

1. Don't kiss like a vacuum.

And anyone who is a fan of Sex & the City (which I would guess is many of you who are also fans of this blog) might recall the episode where Charlotte's date licks her face and sucks on her chin. Gah.

2. Don't kiss like a happy puppy.

I've mentioned previously in this blog that if you have to wipe your face off after someone kisses you, everything is wrong.

3. Don't kiss like a drooly baby. (wait... are there other kinds of babies? I don't know.)

Once while drunkenly making out with a younger guy, he came in too fast and too hard and actually busted my lip with his teeth.

4. Don't kiss like a hockey puck.

French-kissing is weird if you think about it too long, but it's definitely enjoyable if both parties are using their tongues properly. Darting your tongue rapidly in and out of the other person's mouth is NOT using it properly.

5. Don't kiss like a hungry lizard.

Also, my throat? Doesn't need to be licked. I get it, you have a long tongue. I have better places on my person for you to prove how far you can stick it out.

6. Don't kiss like a strep test.

One final tip... and this one is not from my personal experience...

7. DON'T SPIT IN THE OTHER PERSON'S MOUTH.

Yep. Not long ago, a friend of mine was sharing a story about a date she went on. The guy seemed all right until it came to smoochin' time. He asked her to open her mouth. Confused, she complied. And he? HE SPIT IN HER MOUTH.

I was pretty drunk when she told this story, but holy shit you just do not forget that kind of thing. I'm pretty sure her reaction was to tell him, hey, don't do that! Really? Really?? Because I'm almost positive my reaction would be to VOMIT ON HIM.

Apologies of the Asshat

In September 2009, my heart was broken. It was one of the worst breakups I've ever endured, and for added fun and love, I had to endure it twice. It's a miserable story and it was a contributor to me leaving my job for a new one and moving to where I am now.

After a couple of months of being the most miserable, confused, pathetic, broken-hearted person, I finally stuck my toe back into the dating world. There was a guy at work who was attractive, friendly, funny, and flirted with me. He told me he was pretty fresh out of a long-term relationship, but we traded numbers and he continued to be flirty. I figured that was just who he was, and we hung out as friends. He opened up, told me what had gone on with the girl before, I told him about my crap... later that night he texted me saying how comfortable he was with me, how easy I was to talk to. We continued to email and text each other over the next few days, just friendly.

He was going to a friend/coworker's home one night to play drums and hang out, and invited me along under the guise of "she's new here, wants to get to know people." It was early December 2009, and freezing out. We left the coworker's house at the same time, some very late hour, and as we reached his car and hugged goodbye, he paused, looked me in the eyes, and said, "How close are you to being willing to go home with me?"

Out of the Fog?

Last night I was still in the Mega Funk that has gripped me since my birthday-ish, but this morning I woke up and... felt pretty okay. I meowed at my cat and laughed at his face, I cleaned his litter box, I took out the garbage. These are things I have not done in some time. Hooray!

REGULAR PEANUT	DEPRESSED PEANUT
takes out garbage when it's full	does not take garbage out unless it has come to life and is giving advice to local Fraggles
cleans the litter box somewhat regularly	cleans the litter box when the cat is hovering over her with a butcher knife because there is NOWHERE LEFT TO PEE
eats smallish meals/snacks every few hours	does not eat most of the day, except maybe candy, then comes home and eats everything in sight
puts away laundry within a couple of days; generally has a couple pairs of jeans on the end of the bed and pajamas on the floor	still has clean laundry in the basket from over a week ago; has a small mountain of clothes/jackets/who knows on the end of the bed; has another small mountain of clothes in the corner from a handful of "what do I wear" moments over the last 3 weeks; dirty clothes are piled haphazardly in the spot where the laundry basket normally goes
washes sheets/pillowcases regularly	alternates pillows and sleeps in different positions to maximize use of clean spots on sheets/pillowcases as long as possible. slept diagonally the last few nights. hooray for large bed/small person!
does dishes within a day of dirtying them; immediately when baking	discovers new and previously under-utilized places in the apartment to store dirty dishes: coffee table! floor! desk! who knew?

I can say this: I still went to work and did my job. I still fed and took care of my cat (litter box aside). I'm fortunate to have a cat who does not pee or poop elsewhere if his box isn't up to his standards. I don't have any dirty dishes in the bedroom. My hair has been washed at least once in the last couple of days, and at no point did I do anything that caused me to hallucinate hobos living in my apartment.

So I think overall, that was definitely not the worst bout I've had, although it was rather lengthy. Guys, I think tonight? Tonight I might even... do the dishes.

My Alter Ego?

I think I have found my soul mate: http://journalnotkept.blogspot.com/2011/10/one-about-naked-guy.html

(just to be clear, I mean the author, not Naked Guy)

Tis the Season

if i've been around you lately and haven't seemed excited about that, don't take it personally. all my life i've had bouts of depression, and i'm currently in one. my apartment is a mess and i can't seem to care enough to do anything about it, which is unusual for me. the only thing that interests me is sleeping.

this is just a thing i go through sometimes. i don't mind seeing people, but i don't necessarily want to talk, unless it's you talking about your life. the questions "how are you" or "what have you been up to" make me cringe.

what a craptastic time of year to feel this way, though. my birthday, halloween, parties and candy and happy people everywhere. and i'm just a lump.

*lump*

Things I've Learned

Good Ideas:

1. Having a pet.
2. Investing in a comfy couch.
3. Getting your own place.

Bad Ideas:

1. Taking laxatives. Especially more than one. Ever.
2. Going to a party where the majority of attendees have been of legal drinking age for less than 5 years. Especially if there's beer pong. There will be puking.
3. Having your home 50% or more filled with pets.

Nothing Sexy Here

I just explained to a coworker the proper way to consume M&Ms, so I figured I'd lay some knowledge down for you guys as well. It's like one of those logic puzzles from elementary school, but a super easy one. Also, yes, this is how I really eat M&Ms, every single time. I cannot eat them in the dark (nor Skittles, although the rules for those are slightly different. ....don't judge me).

1. You must eat M&Ms in pairs.

2. Every pair must be 2 different colored M&Ms.

3. Every pair must include one "male" color and one "female" color. That is the gender of the color itself, not the gender for which that color applies (like the idiot notion that GI Joes are "boy" toys and Easy Bake Ovens are "girl" toys. No, these colors ARE male and female, in my mind).*

4. When you find yourself nearing the end of your M&M supply, you must dump out and pre-organize all remaining M&Ms to ensure you will be able to meet the requirements with the remaining candy.

5. M&Ms unable to meet requirements should be pawned off on friends or coworkers.

*This rule, it should be noted, is not strictly followed at all times in adulthood. As a child, yes, but now I'm much more relaxed. If toward the end of the bag I find my candy doesn't work out this way, I am perfectly content to allow "gay" coupled M&Ms.** Often I also allow this if I'm simply distracted, but rule #2 always always always applies.

**This should not in any way be read as a reflection of my views on homosexuality in general. The male/female colors thing is a holdover from childhood that will probably never go away. For the record, I'm pro-gay marriage, etc. That shouldn't even need to be said, considering I'm bisexual myself, but I really don't need my weird food issues to be interpreted by some pop psychology babble that will inevitably make me the bad guy. I JUST EAT CANDY WEIRD OKAY.

Reference material:

"Male" colors: blue, green, brown
"Female" colors: red, yellow, orange

How To Get A Job

Peanut: at my friends' housewarming, a neighbor's chicken wandered into their backyard
Peanut: next thing you know, I'm off the deck, crouched in the dirt, holding out a hand going "heeeeeeere chicken chicken... heeeey, chicken..."
Peanut: it got REALLY close to me too, so it clearly worked

Mrs H: of course. I have no doubt that you have a previously undiscovered talent for chicken-whispering

Peanut: absolutely. the chickens in the park next to my office like me
Peanut: and some other friends have a chicken that wasn't "all that friendly" when I met it (the other ones were like lap chickens), but it snuggled up to my side and just kinda hung out there
Peanut: like, "look. I have a rep to maintain. So I will sit here and you can pet me, but I won't LOOK at you."

Mrs H: haha of course
Mrs H: I feel like the next time you are looking for a job, just slip "Gets along really well with even unfriendly chickens" under "Accomplishments"
Mrs H: I'm pretty sure any place worth working at will hire you as soon as they see that

Peanut: agreed

Mrs H: I'm full of useful tips

Peanut: you really are!
Peanut: also, you know that question about your weaknesses that they always ask even though it's stupid?

FB v FWB

FB = Fuck Buddy
FWB = Friends with Benefits

They seem to be basically the same thing, right? Someone with whom you have fun sexy times, but without the strings of a relationship/commitment. I think they're different.

"Buddy" is like a level of friendship. One can be a buddy but not a friend; however, one cannot be a friend without also being a buddy. If you're bored and want to go see a movie, you call up a buddy OR a friend. If you're going through a rough breakup and you just want to pour your heart out and cry, you call up a friend.

I feel I've had both in the past. The Fuck Buddy is one I simply cannot stand anymore. I've had this, and it worked on a weird level. We only saw each other every few months or so at the bar; sometimes we'd go home together, sometimes we wouldn't... it was what it was. We're still buddies and always have a smile and a hug (sometimes a bit of smoochin) when we run into each other, but there's not any plans made or communication otherwise - we aren't even Facebook Friends.

I want someone I can hang out and talk to before/after. Someone I can have an actual conversation with, and on topics covering much more than just favorite positions. Someone I can hang out with sometimes and not have sex, and that's okay. That's the Friend with Benefits: sometimes you have sex, sometimes you don't, but always, you're friends.

It's a fine line, and a frustrating one. I recently came to a Friends with Benes agreement with someone, but I feel like the more we F, the less we're F.

THANKS OKCupid!

My birthday was this last week, and on the day I received an email from OKCupid: "Happy birthday! Are you still single?" ...yep. I appreciate the reminder on this special day!

Just... WHAT?

Got a message on OKCupid tonight.  

So I have decide you are the coolest person I have seen on here in the last day. I am... TOTALLY... going to steal you... put you on the magic carpet, so we can fly... ALL THE WAY... to Italy, and chase Kangaroos. There aren't even any Kangaroos in Italy... BUT-in my world there is.

I can't even make any witty remarks to make this better. THIS IS GOLD, PEOPLE.

Bad Bottling

I'm a bottler. For some reason, all my life, I've kept my emotions to myself. I'm strong and independent and I don't need anyone and I don't need feelings and I CAN DO IT!

Once in kindergarten, I decided to get off the school bus at the stop before my regular one and walk. Why? Because I wanted to be adventurous and independent! I was a big girl! (I was not.) The problem is that I have always been geographically challenged, and at the age of 4 it was even worse. I had no idea which stop would be the one before mine, and having decided this whole thing spontaneously, I certainly hadn't been paying attention and plotting and planning. I was wingin' it, baby!

I picked a stop that felt close to home. I exited the bus, tremulous with fear and excitement (knowing myself, I probably was literally trembling. I do that when I'm nervous, and it's REALLY FUCKING ANNOYING.), and stared out at the expanse of strange sidewalk ahead. ...nothing looked familiar. Oops.

Wrap-up: Transcendent Power, Desk, Penes

In other words, business as usual around here.

BobGinger: working with dudes = nobody notices when you dye your hair  
hussyred: I KNOW  
hussyred: men are dumb  
BobGinger: in a week or so, one or two of them will be all "...did you change your hair?"  
BobGinger: if I go upstairs where there are women, women who only see me like twice a month, THEY will notice.  
hussyred: of course  
hussyred: the power stems from our lady parts  
BobGinger: i wonder if surgically created lady parts work
BobGinger: i mean, generally if you are having a vagina surgically put into your body, it's bc you figure you're a girl on the inside anyway  
BobGinger: so maybe the power is there...  
hussyred: true  
hussyred: the power transends the vagina

Re: Desk, I've decided there are enough damn olive branches out there and I can just hang on to mine. A friend of mine pointed out that physical chemistry means nothing if the relationship is otherwise toxic, and she's right. I'd already given it a lot of thought, and I replied to his email:

I just wanted to say that I appreciate the apology. You probably recall I told you that most people I trust end up hurting me, and I'm sure you realize you vaulted yourself quite spectacularly into that statistic, and with an alarming amount of what I felt was completely false conjecture or misunderstanding of things I'd said. So, thank you for this email.

As far as I'm concerned, that's that.

PENES! What is a blog post without mention of penes? Over the weekend I spent time with some lovely ladies, and there was extensive discussion of penes/penii. Highlights:

1. It is totally okay to tell a guy that he has "a great dick." Different girls have different ideas of an ideal member, but when we see one that's just fantastic, we know... and we think you'd like to know, too.
2. "Pesions" = "penal lesions" = a phrase we hope to never have use of ever again.
3. Sometimes girls just need sex. It's true. "I want you to shut up now and fuck me" is not just a dude thought.

Desk: the Sequel

If you've been reading this blog since its inception, you already know who Desk is. If you don't, I have created a handy label so you can easily find all posts re: him, both the good and the bad, because apparently even though we did not date long, he is destined to be an important piece of my life. These things happen.

The latest, which some of you know, is that last night I got an invitation for that professional networking site LinkedIn from none other than Desk himself. I stared at it for quite a while. My body felt all funny and I was sure that I was somehow misreading the name on the email. His first name is pretty common... but no, his last name is terribly unique and it was definitely Desk. I even clicked on it to see his profile, and the job description matched up. WHAT.

I wondered what the hell he was thinking. Now, I am a curious sort, especially when it comes to things like relationships and how brains work and how people think. I'm also prone to knee-jerk reactions, spontaneous decisions, and obsessing... so I was not even remotely surprised when, after trying for about 10 minutes to ignore the whole thing, I hit reply on LinkedIn and wrote, "This is a joke, yeah?" Mostly I just wanted to express my surprise to him; I didn't truly expect a response.

Internet: he wrote back.

Sexy Times: What Worries You?

Let's say you have a date/date-type-thing coming up that you are pretty certain is going to involve sex. With a new person.

What do you think about leading up to this?

I would imagine for the ladies: leg/pit shaving, makeup... for the men: will she think his peener is good enough?... for both: landscaping, clean home (whoever is hosting), showering, will it be any good?, will s/he like me?, are there condoms? (you should both be prepared, people! never rely on the other party)

Here is my deal: if sex happens without forethought or with someone I've already been with and am comfortable around, I'm not even remotely concerned with things like leg hair or if I've showered or if there's dirty clothes on the floor. But if I know SEX WILL HAPPEN, I think way too much. Sometimes I just decide that I am desirous of sex, so the next date I have is the winner. Date gets set up, and then... I have time to think about it. And... hmm.

Follow up! Boy input!

Yesterday I shared a list of perfectly reasonable options for dealing with a new friend whom you suspect is crushing on you. Another option was presented by a reader: proactively bring it up and nip it in the bud.

WHAT.

This is terrifying for many reasons... sure, the crusher may be delusional and think the object of his desire reciprocates, but the crushee risks mortification if she brings it up only to have the crusher look appalled and say, "What? You're full of yourself."

I myself often second-guess these things to death. Does he have a crush on me? No, he's just friendly. I'm reading too much into it. I need to stop being so egotistical. Or maybe he's just horny and I happen to be around; that is not a crush, that is libido + convenience.

My normal approach is a toned-down version of the Talk About Another Guy option, followed by the final option of letting him down gently if he brings it up. I have maintained some of my best friendships with guys who initially were blinded by the New Girl Syndrome (you know how it is... you haven't met someone in a while, then someone new of the gender you're particular to comes into your life and is shiny and fresh and so of COURSE you must like this person), only to later realize OMG THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN DISASTROUS. And thus we moved along and remained friends.

Last night I was discussing this with a new male friend who is only 24. His immediate reaction was, "Just sleep with him once, jeez."

Me: "...I can't sleep with a guy if I know he likes me, and I don't like him. That's mean!"
Him: "Oh, get over yourself!"
Me: "...um?"
Him: "As long as everyone knows it's just a one-time thing... just get it over with."
Me: "Isn't that mean? Leading him on?"
Him: "No, just tell him it's just this once! It's fine. You have sex, you move on, you stay friends."
Me: "..."

Ah, 24 year olds. (whyaretheysofuckincute?!?)

Only later, when more sober, did I think that my counter-argument should have been: "if I don't like him romantically, that is at least in part because I don't find him physically attractive, so I don't want to sleep with him. DUH." I mean, come on, I DO get a say in my sexy times partners, yaknow. Just because he likes me does not mean he gets an automatic all-access pass to gloryland!

Being Likeable

What do you do when you think you've made a fab new friend, but then you realize this new friend has a crush on you?

OPTIONS!
(am writing this from perspective of female crushee and male crusher, but feel free to play footloose and fancy-free with the pronouns and body parts until it suits you)

1. Smack him in the face and run away, à la The Bobcats. Hopefully he doesn't have a Thing For Crazies.

2. Ask him if he's gay. Repeatedly. Then ask if he's really, really sure.

3. Tell him you don't have a vagina. It simply fell out when you were 15 and you never bothered to worry about it because hey! No periods! No sexual frustration! Win-win. No really, go look it up in some kind of scientific journal.

4. Move to another city.

5. Bring up some Hot Guy You Love every time you hang out. Hope he gets the hint. Burst into tears a lot (lamenting unrequited love from Hot Guy). Allow snot to flow freely.

6. Talk incessantly about the weirdish purpley wart your left big toe seems to be cultivating despite your best efforts to burn it/cut it/soak it in kerosine.

7. Announce your intentions to make a coffee table book of photographs of deformed penes. Excitedly tell him he looks like he'd be a shoe-in to be a participant - he just has the face of someone with a problematic peener, you know?

8. Salivate a little while talking lustily about how you've always thought Van Gogh was SOOOOOOO sexy and it would just be SOOOOOO amazing to date a guy who would CUT OFF HIS EAR for you, and you are just pretty sure you cannot settle for anything less. Then hope he's not into body mutilation.

9. Tell him you're actually a lesbian, and resign yourself to never dating another boy as long as you remain friends with this one.

10. Ignore it and hope he never musters the balls to make a move. If/when he does, gently explain you just don't see him that way and hope this doesn't negatively impact the friendship. If it does, respect his wishes and give him his space.

Guess which route I usually choose?

Dreams are Scary

Last night I dreamed one of those dreams that I just feel like I have to share. In this dream, I went to a doctor because I had cramps. The doctor gave me some kind of pills, which I dutifully began taking. Not that exciting so far.

Then I was home, packing my backpack for school. I was delighted to find that my work laptop fit in my backpack perfectly! (work laptop? but I was in school? what? but this is really not that weird compared to the rest.) Then I hopped in the shower to get ready for school/work (schork?) and there I discovered: I had a penis.

This is my morning

Peanut: the edge of my bra is poking me in the armpit. wtf is the edge of my bra even DOING in my armpit, that is the question
Peanut: this is clearly a stupidly designed bra
hussyred: true
hussyred: just take it off
Peanut: I am strongly considering it but then I'd be both saggy and nipply
Peanut: I can't really go incognito bra-less
hussyred: whatever
hussyred: free your boobs
hussyred: its like an en vogue song
Peanut: it's like 2 degrees in this office
Peanut: i would end up typing unintentionally with my nipples
hussyred: yeah, hilarity would ensue
Peanut: IM to coworker: e tihgbn !
     coworker: ...wtf?
     me: sorry. that was from my boobs.
hussyred: hahahahah
hussyred: love
Peanut: I'm sure the day would be great from there on out
hussyred: you would have admirers from afar
Peanut: I might get a raise
Peanut: ...albeit not a monetary one. *rimshot*
hussyred: NICE
Peanut: GET IT? GET IT? penis joke.
hussyred: yes, thank you for the explanation
Peanut: boss: so what have you gotten done today?
     me: well, I made a pretty good penis joke.
     boss: *high five*

     I am sure that is how that will go.
Peanut: although if we high five i might poke out his eye with a nip, so I should be careful
hussyred: you should
hussyred: eye patches galore throughout your office
Peanut: maybe we can bedazzle the eye patches later. it will be a fun team building activity.
hussyred: YES

hussyred: ugh this day suuuuucks
Peanut: well, it does NOW, because I'm out of penis jokes
hussyred: well, that's super sad
Peanut: SO'S YOUR PENIS
Peanut: hmm
Peanut: that doesn't work as well as "your mama" jokes does it?

---

Peanut: I had a msg on OKC from a dude: "would very much like to hang with a cute funny goofball like you. I'd be super pleased if you'd read my profile and let me know your thoughts."
Peanut: now with a smooth and hilarious opening like that, how could i NOT want to write him back?
Peanut: wait... does he want a business meeting? or a date?
Peanut: I'm half-tempted to write him back and say, "dude, loosen your undies and try again. you sound like you're trying to find someone to proofread your essay for English class instead of trying to get your mack on."
Genie: oh! i'm pretty sure my mom's lesbo cousin thinks you're my lesbo lover
Genie: hope that's ok with you
Peanut: totes!
Peanut: you're pretty cute and we have fun together
Peanut: plus you let me date other people
Genie: it's really a win/win

Whiskey Burns

Time to get this blog back on track! Less self-exploration, more SEX STORIES! Woooo!

So while reading this one, it's probably best if you just pretend you don't actually know me. Although I suppose if nothing I've written so far has made you think less of me, nothing will, and as usual I have to ask myself if it matters. I mean... this is who I am. Sometimes I'm sweet and lovey and want nothing more than a solid, intimate, snuggley Relationship, and sometimes I'm raucous and slutty and out there. Just sort of depends on my mood and where I'm at in life, etc etc.

This story is clearly from a raucous slutty phase, although it wasn't planned. Back in the day, I was hanging out with these folks who were/are in a fire performing troupe. ("troupe" is such a weird word... sort of haughty, but also brings to mind images of dirty carnival people for some reason.) Some spun poi, some breathed fire, some did whatever else there is to do with fire. When I discovered they had not done vapor locks, I was shocked.

On Dating

I got back on OKC a few days ago. I was a little surprised to see that the Swede had already re-joined and was making changes to his profile - we'd both deactivated our accounts, but he was saved as a "favorite" on mine from when we were first emailing, and as soon as I re-activated and logged in, OKC was all "Guess what the Swede has been up to!" Oh. Timestamped a whole 2 days after the breakup, even? Well... all right then.

Once I was done processing that information, I went ahead and started revamping my own profile. Namely, I added the following:

I am not, in fact, actively seeking a monogamous relationship. Being single is pretty rad and I quite enjoy it. That said, I'm also not looking for any kind of "friends with benefit" arrangements - that implies a lack of emotional intimacy and accountability that I find pointless. I'm also not against the idea of finding myself in a monogamous relationship, but it's not something I'm trying for or willing to rush into.

Poly, part 2

FINALLY, right?

I've had a lot going on lately, so updating this has taken a backseat. Especially since when lots is going on, my brain becomes Grand Central Station and I'm lucky if I can form coherent sentences, much less write blog posts that anyone would care to read. But here I am with a little time on my hands, and a few topics rolling around in my noggin.

The Ethical Slut... I cracked it open on vacation, and while I haven't yet finished it, I do have some preliminary thoughts. I'd say I'm about halfway through, and I haven't stopped reading for lack of interest - just information overload because I'm learning a shit ton of new stuff at work and my poor little brain just wants a break when I get home.

Time for a list! My impressions thus far...

Conversations

BobGinger: As I'm researching polyamory, I'm also definitely leaning toward "interesting, but not for me." Every time I'm out there playing the field, I've noticed once I meet someone I'm really interested in, I'm suddenly less likely to flirt with anyone else, even if I had been previously. I just don't seem to have the energy for more than one person at a time. Having 2 cats in my home was like a little metaphorical test run. I was constantly torn on which cat to pay attention to... the one that's in a new place and scared, or the one that needs to be comforted that I am not replacing him?

Mrs. H: I have some moral objections to it, but beyond that I just don't think my emotions are even remotely built that way.

BobGinger: There are parts that appeal to me... I'm scared of committing to the "wrong" person, so this would allow me to find others who might fill the needs my partner does not, it doesn't entirely but does largely remove the fear of cheating, and I really like my alone time, so the Partner Time would be nice and spread out; however, when I want attention, I want ALL the attention (CLEAN ALL THE THINGS). And I know I would regularly wonder, does he like her better than me?

But I am totally fascinated. I actually know people who have been in poly-committed relationships for a decade or more, and are happy and successful and loving. It blows my little mind.

Mrs. H: I have not known any of those... I've known the one partner wants it so the other goes along and then everything blows up and destroys everyone sort.

BobGinger: I guess in one way, writing this blog is opening my mind. I feel like a little unofficial sociologist. I've always been fascinated by all the different types of relationships and personal interactions.

Mrs. H: nice. You should have business cards made.

BobGinger: "totally amateur and untrained sociologist who makes semi-educated guesses at things based on limited experiences and a rather narrow field of personal research. for hire."

Mrs. H: that might be a little long for a card.

Been a while

I was in a relationship for a minute there, and it got sort of weird. He had found my blog, and enjoyed most of it, but the bits about exes bothered him. And other bits bothered him. Things started bothering him. So I decided to move the blog - I thought to myself, I am not going to stop writing (and he insisted he did not want me to), but this way he is not tempted to read things that we both know will end up... well, bothering him.

Then we broke up. I'd already done all this work to move the blog, so it's staying moved. I know the temptation to e-stalk an ex is very strong, and so I want to keep this world separate from my other, more public worlds. I don't want this one and the other one linked in any way.

Oh, the breakup. Yes. Well. He was/is a great guy. Very similar sense of humor to my own, very sweet, very goofy. Made me laugh, made me feel totally comfortable being my absolute self almost all the time. I joked a few times that he is "me with a penis." The problem is that it turns out he's more like me from a few years ago, rather than now. He went through a really awful bad no-good very painful breakup just a year ago, and it was a really long-term "thought this was the one" kind of relationship. He thought he was totally over it and healed and stuff. While I do think he's over her, it became apparent to both of us rather quickly that he was not over the pain it all caused him. He became very insecure, which I'm sure we all know from personal experience leads to clinginess, neediness, general flailing and whining... all that really unattractive stuff.

The Forgotten Blog

Still being found by Google with some awesome search phrases:

"sugar daddy no sex" - ah yes, searching for the golden ticket, I see!

ahhh mmmm sexxxxxxxx - that's an awful lot of x's!

tony huffins + cheerleading - I don't know who Tony Huffins is, but I hope this person enjoyed my blog anyway.

That Time I Was Horrible

I'm leaving on vacation tomorrow, and I plan to take The Ethical Slut with me, so I should finally have time to read it. I'll feel a bit weird reading it on the plane, but I suppose that I'm going to feel weird reading it in my parents' house, too, so I will just embrace the weird.

So I have promised a few times to tell this story, and now I feel like it's been built up a bit and will disappoint. Please forget I ever mentioned this before, and let's pretend this is new! and fresh! and a surprise! The story of the time I was a horrible human being and I still feel bad even though both people have forgiven me, even the one I was the jerkiest to, because he is an awesome dude.

Several years ago (I think 5ish?), I spent a weekend in Seattle - I was living on the Eastside then. I met two guys, both of whom were younger and pretty cute. They both made me laugh. They both seemed to like me. They were roommates and best friends.

Stigma-tism

The word "stigma" always makes me think of astigmatism. Is there a stigma about astigmatism? I know there's still a bit of one about online dating.

"Online dating"... makes it sound like you're doing the dating online, which is usually not the case when someone mentions it. Generally they're referring to one of the many sites out there set up to help people meet dates/partners/lovers/whatever: match, okcupid, eharmony, etc.

I've already mentioned that I have used okcupid in the past. For the most part, I just sort of poke at it, message a few people here and there, but rarely actually meet dudes I chat with. I grow bored with them quickly, or they didn't interest me in the first place, or I just decide that I really don't want to be bothered with dating after all. It's exhausting and especially in the last year or so, I've really enjoyed being single. I have dated, sure, but casually. I haven't felt the need to go places with someone, to hold hands in public, to text someone about his day or to say goodnight. I liked not checking in with anyone when I wanted to make plans; not sharing my bed; not worrying about shaving my legs; not fretting that if I eat that macaroni and cheese, I will be tooting the evening away.

Now I have a boyfriend.

Almost Weekend!

It's Friday. I don't have much to share. I still haven't had a spare moment to crack open The Ethical Slut and really start delving into my poly "research." I also haven't had time to put together the story I want to tell about the time I was a completely selfish bitch and tried to date roommates.

So what I will do instead is continue the penis trend and share this comic from Penny Arcade that the Swede just sent me. August: Penis Month.

Cheerleader Syndrome

I have been slacking at actual posts with whole sentences and paragraphs and such lately!

I feel like I've been on quite the penis kick lately (ow, penis kick), but rather than apologize and find a new topic, I'm just going to ride it out (heyoooo). There's a phenomenon I refer to as "Cheerleader Syndrome." It's when a girl who has been exceedingly pretty and has been told she's beautiful her whole life never develops a personality past what it takes to look good. Obviously, not all pretty girls are personality-free, because as I've pointed out before, I don't know any ladies who aren't pretty. But you know the type, surely. Her whole life has been about looking her best, being gorgeous, smiling and batting her eyelashes, and... not much else. She's pretty. She gets attention no matter what comes out of her mouth. These are the women who grow up to be trophy wives.

Well, there's a guy equivalent. I don't just mean attractive men who don't have a brain cell to spare, though the "Cheerleader Syndrome" surely affects men as well. Hell, I like to tell my cat that it's okay when he's dumb, because he's so damn pretty yes he is ooooh who's a pretty cat? (what? as if you don't talk to your pets like an idiot?) I mean the Big Dick issue.

New Drinking Game Proposal

Oh, there are so many reasons I love this video. The first line? "Can you hold for a second so I can show the penis?" Also, drinking game: every time someone says "penis," take a drink (10 times, for the record).

I cannot stop laughing at this, and it seemed to suit this blog, so here it is.

PENIS.

What was the REAL goal?

"it puts the lotion on its skin ok cupid 2006 new city"

This blog is the first result for that search phrase on Google. But what I really want to know is... what was this person actually hoping to find? Hey, reader, if you're still around, enlighten us? Love you!

On Friendships

Have you missed me?

I've been kind of hibernating a lot lately. Re-evaluating friendships/non-romantic relationships/who I am and where I'm at. All that deep mumbo jumbo that tends to require a lot of alone time. I've been half-assedly doing this for a couple of years now, but I'm now starting to be way more selfish than ever before with my time and energy. I am the kind of person who knows a huge number of people and am always meeting more - I've reached the point where I can rarely go to any event in this city without seeing at least one person I know -  but I have very few people I actually consider friends. I'd like to change that, but I'm about on par with a basement-dwelling super-nerd when it comes to talking to women.

I want to have female friends, and I know women who are delightful and I would love to be friends with them, but I totally, abjectly fail at actually accomplishing this. No, really, I am a pasty-faced, acne-ridden, terrified teenage nerdling boy on the inside. If we're emailing, I'm fine (although I probably will stick my e-foot in my e-mouth a few times). In person, though, I flounder. It's very strange - I'm completely intimidated by other women, women who seem to have their shit together, either as a whole or at least just as a female. Put me with a dude or group of dudes, I'm a-okay. I'm not scared of dudes, despite the number of guys who have hurt me, lied to me, cheated on me, etc. When things don't work out with a female friend (because I feel friendships, much like romantic relationships, can sometimes just not work out despite a promising beginning), I retreat, scared to try again. How do other women understand things like hair, makeup, fashion, shoes, so inherently? Because I do not, and I don't even care enough to try. And I often feel like a failure as a woman for that.

Anyone else like that? I can't help wondering why getting hurt by a female friend is so much harder for me to deal with and recover from than getting hurt by a romantic partner. Girls I end up being close to are girls who reach out to me, who are open with me, who generally make all the moves to generate & further the friendship, at least until I'm coaxed out of my shell.

This is the first time in well over a decade that I have lived somewhere long enough to forge deep, long-term friendships with people "in real life" (rather than over the interwebz), and I'm finding that I'm just not very good at it, at all. I do still have friends I met when I was a teen, but that was before I was scared of it all, honestly, and those interactions are now web-based since I don't live near them anymore. Maybe (very likely) I just don't know what I'm doing. Ah, the effects of being raised a military brat. Are there studies on this, perhaps? Military brats having a hard time making lasting friendships, forging true connections, etc? Or am I just lacking certain emotional capabilities that are wholly unrelated to my upbringing?

Input, Steph-a-nie!

Number 5 is ALIVE!

But seriously, a while back I posted about a guy who wants to love his lady but let her love others. A sort of one-sided polyamory situation, I guess? One commenter said she is, in fact, in such a situation, and I asked if she could convince her husband to respond and explain the appeal.

He did! So everyone else who was curious, go back and read the last comment. It's really interesting, and I would like to thank Anonymous Husband for taking the time to give us all some insight into that lifestyle and his through processes surrounding that choice.

This Post Might Make You Hungry

Another wonderful afternoon conversation with Mrs. H! I love being the person that everyone knows they can come to when they have a completely random question/statement, especially about sex. Because my reaction is never, "WTF??" It's always a serious consideration and response. I'm not known for bothering with segues myself, so why should anyone else? And I'm always up (get it? GET IT?) for talking about sex.

Mrs. H: food+sex=super hot? Why is that a thing on tv and in movies and stuff? Maybe it's my laziness and not wanting to clean up a bunch of stuff, but that does not sound even remotely sexy to me.

BobGinger: I agree that food does not have a place in my pants.

Mrs. H:  you may be asking yourself where this is coming from. Allow me to tell you...

Carcinogens: Everything

What do you think? Should I send this list to Desk and see if it totally paralyzes him?

(note: I'm not making fun of cancer. Cancer sucks ginormous hairy monkey ass. I'm making fun of Desk, because he's a poopy-head and that is what overgrown children like me do to poopy-heads.)

Desk: The Email, Pt 2

(Prologue here -- Email, Pt 1 here)

I told you it was the longest email ever! So let's keep going, because I don't think I've been insulted enough... and I'm just going to ignore his misspellings but you should know I SEE THEM.

None of those things on there own is particularly damning, it's just
taken together I can't help see the patterns emerge.  It naturally
leads me along another line of reasoning, to wonder if maybe you have
fallen prey to believing some lies about yourself...that you aren't
beautiful, that you need anti-depressants, that you must smell a
certain way to fit into this culture.

Actually, my nose is what tells me how I should smell, and I prefer to smell nice.

I see you not trusting your beauty so you hide it.  I see you 
hooked by big Pharma on products that don't cure your depression 
and decrease your ability to experience orgasm.

"big Pharma"? What? So medicine that helps me not want to kill myself is bad, but smoking pot every single day (which he does) is perfectly acceptable? And since when can I not experience orgasm? Oh yeah, that ONE time, the last time we were together, the night you ranted about the environment and I just wasn't feeling it with you so I said "it's not gonna happen." THAT time. Yep. Must've been the meds.

Bat Farts

Coworker: Ummm
Coworker: http://giantbatfarts.com/
Coworker: (needs sound)
BobGinger: should not surprise you that I have seen this site before.
DN: Yeah, you are easily the classiest woman I know.

Poly, part 1

As I'm reading more about polyamory, I have to admit the whole concept is fascinating. I have little experience with it myself. Before I moved to Seattle, I'd never even heard of it. When I first came up here, I was staying with some folks on their couch. They took me to a Halloween party at someone's house, telling me two couples lived there. Okay, I thought, the cost of living is pretty high here, so maybe that's a regular thing.

We arrive, and I'm introduced to one of the married couples. Not long after, I spotted the husband across the room, holding hands with another woman who had just arrived... and the wife was definitely flirting with me. I was baffled and surprised.

Turns out, the two couples lived together because 3 of the 4 were dating each other, and the 4th dated "outside the home." My small-town, Southern mind = blown.

Since then I've become friends with people who are active and successful with the poly lifestyle. One woman I knew for at least a year, along with her boyfriend, before learning that he was not her husband. That, in fact, both of them were married to other people. I also went on a date with a man who told me about his "primary" relationship with a married woman. At the time, I declined to continue dating him. I was still new to this area, and to the idea of polyamory.

Most of my current group of friends frown on the concept. Laugh at it, even. I think this is because in this particular group, we know of two people who have attempted this lifestyle, and both failed or are currently failing. I'm learning more about what I think is the ... true? form of polyamory, which is to say, open and honest communication, not having a partner and then using other people on the side for free meals under the guise of "dates." It also doesn't help when someone who is polyamorous touts this as The Lifestyle, spouting that "people are not MEANT to be monogamous," etc. Anyone who beats others with their own beliefs as being universal will have trouble actually being accepted. Some people are monogamous by nature, others are not, just like anything else.

This is all to say: I'm still sorting this all out in my mind, but I definitely want information, from all sides. Are you anti-poly? That's okay. Pro-poly, but not for yourself? Awesome. Actively poly? Fascinating. I'd like to hear from all of you! Why you feel the way you do, what your experiences are, etc. Either in the comments, or feel free to email me. If you choose to comment, though, please be respectful. Haters gonna hate - but if you can't be open-minded about different relationships and sex, you're on the wrong blog.

Too Good to be True?

Recently I've been doing some research into the concept of polyamory for a future post. It's a fascinating idea and where I live, there's quite a large community of folks who practice poly. There are all sorts of different ... arrangements, I guess would be the word, in the community. But that's all to come later!

Part of my research is poking around in the sometimes-skeezy underbelly of Craigslist personals. It's amazing the number of married folks on there posting for affairs. Sometimes they wish you to be "discrete," which quite frankly cracks me up every time.

In all this poking around, I found a fascinating post that seems too good to be true. So of course, I emailed the fella who posted it, and asked a few questions.

First, his post:

---

Good Day to all,

I have a proposition which many women may have never encountered, but I assure you is wonderful. I am seeking a woman that I can treat like a queen...that I can connect with emotionally and intellectually, and that I can love deeply. And there's just a little bit more that you'll find particularly intriguing...

I'm a handsome, intelligent, healthy, stable, totally sane, dd free, very well-endowed, own my own home and cars, stable income, and the like. And I have a very interesting and passionate desire that I would like to live out. Ok...now to the unique part. I have always received the most satisfaction by making absolutely sure that the woman I am with is totally satisfied in every way. I derive a lot of pleasure out of knowing that she is very happy. I hope that makes some sense. I'll explain in more detail. For me, it's all about you. I happen to be very well endowed. I'm 9" and thick. I have a lot to work with and the ability to use it well. But there's this one thing.. it would be simply wonderful if I can see the woman that I love and care for completely enjoying herself on a sexual level as well . Basically, the lifestyle that I am seeking is about truly, deeply loving and caring for the woman in my life...and at the same time finding a great deal of pleasure and fun in seeing her enjoy herself with any other man that she wants. I want to care for and support a woman who is free to be with other guys all she wants. One unbreakable rule of this kind of caring and loving relationship is that I will not be allowed to sleep with anyone else but you. That's what I'm looking for in this relationship. It is intimate and caring, and there is much to share. It's a cuckold relationship...and if that is something that you would be interested in, then please let me know.

While you get the support of enjoying yourself as much as you want with anyone that you may wish, whenever you like, I will try and make sure that you are getting everything else that you need to be happy. If this sounds like a lifestyle that would work for you, then please let me know! The picture below is of me, taken about a year ago. I'm for real. My work allows me quite a bit of freedom. This is an honest and serious offer. I look forward to hearing from you. Please respond with "free" in the subject line so that I can be certain that you aren't a robot. Thank you! And good luck and peace on your searches!

---

He also posted a photo of his upper torso, shirtless, and ladies? He's in GOOOOOD shape. So, what's the catch here? I get some hot "well-endowed" dude to please my brains out, and I get to play around on the side? And that's not just okay, but even encouraged? I... um... hm. I'm sorry, I'm sleeping, right?

So I emailed him. "How did you discover this was something you enjoyed? What is it about this particular arrangement that appeals to you?" I told him I write a blog that frequently deals with topics of sex and relationships, and that this was the first I'd encountered of that sort of ... setup.

Today, he replied, and he's VERY polite.

---

Greetings!

How did I discover this was something I liked? I wish I had an answer, but I don't. It's just always been something that I have loved, desired, and wanted. What is it that appeals to me? It is seeing that my woman is getting pleased, taken into ecstasy, and absorbed in pleasure. It's knowing that this is MY woman that I am sharing, and that I have allowed/made this happen. I want to watch her totally absorbed in pleasure and happiness. I love it when my woman is happy and pleasured. It is hard to describe, but overall it's about wanting to know and witness and share with the woman that I love that she is being totally pleasured and taken and imbued. So, on your blog, you can simply state that there are men out there who really want to have the greatest pleasure for their partner. And this...is that. A woman who can be completely and totally free to enjoy themselves with others, and know that they can come home to a man will always be with them through it all. How's that sound to you?

In Peace

---

How does that sound to me? Well... still fishy. Am I too jaded? How does it sound to YOU?

(I just remembered that a lot of people will skim this... so to be clear: I didn't email him because I'm interested in taking him up on his offer. I just emailed to ask questions because it's a curious situation. I'm researching polyamory and this, technically, falls under that topic.)

Winner: Best Comment

I get some really excellent comments on this blog, partially because the blog content just sets itself up for that, and partly because so far, it would appear my audience is made up wholly of people I know, and I know awesome people. But this comment, from Desk: The Email, Pt 1, just takes the cake. And we know how much I love cake.

Dear Weiner:

Congratulations on winning. You obviously won so hard. Way to hate on macaroni and cheese! That shit is obviously for babies. Also, parents are overrated. People need to stop liking those things.

Props for being so manly, and not vindictive or whiny! You practically built the high road.

Sincerely,
Dreams Roughly the Size of a Pet Store as Well

Thanks, akachan, for making me laugh on a day when I'm feeling poopy!

Desk: The Email, Pt 1

(Prologue of the Desk story here)

Oh, yes, the email came. And friends, what an email. It is really, really long (that's what she said). I went to a party the Friday night after our fallout, and when I came home around midnight, I popped online to check email. And there it was.

The Longest, Meanest Email Ever.

Maybe not ever, that's a big statement... but still bad. Funnily enough, when he was badgering me about opening up and letting down walls, I told him it was hard for me because 9 out of the 10 people I chose to trust and open up to ended up hurting me. He acted like that was sad and he wouldn't be that guy. (They ALL act like they won't be that guy. THEY ARE.) Then I get this email, which is, in a word, rude.

I was going to post all of it, but I'll just pick out the REALLY offensive bits, and you, dear readers, should rest assured that the whole thing was really pretentious and offensive and awful. It's still going to get super long, but bear in mind throughout that this isn't even the whole thing...

Words!

Words that are fun to say:

1. Bonk
2. Dong/Dongle
3. Dag (Australian slang I just learned from Ozzie)
4. "hrnk"
5. Peanut
6. Kerfuffle
7. Glorious
8. Poo/poop/poot
9. Scoot (probably any "*oo*" word, actually)
and of course...
10. BUNNEH

Words I don't like saying (and I don't know why):

1. Panties
2. Moist
3. Tardy (unless I'm talking about the Turtle)
4. Teacher
5. Horny
6. Bow
7. Ribbon
8. Silly

Wednesday Mish-Mash

Things I'm excited about today:

1. Making Rolo cookies tomorrow night
2. Friend's bday celebration after work Friday
3. NEW HARRY POTTER MOVIE FRIDAY NIGHT OMG
4. Volunteering at some crazy race thing Saturday
5. Seeing my ex-husband for the first time in almost 7 years for lunch today
6. I'm mere hours away from my work week being half over
7. Payday!
8. New earrings (I know, I'm excited about earrings? but come on... they are really cute! with elephants! and made by a local crafty artist-type lady!)
9. This article about Boobs of Yore
10. This song:



UPDATE: Report on item #5: lunch was good! My ex-husband is better-looking than he has any right to be, and we had some laughs reminiscing about that time I threw the Gameboy at his head, and other insane hormones-raging blowout fights of our past. Ah, youth.

I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! Hi, My Name Is...

I have a friend who is Australian, and super friendly (and one of my Experts in Penis-Having on previous blog entries). Between his smiling, friendly demeanor and his charming accent, women tend to sort of blush and giggle when he chats with them. The problem is this: he's not single.

Why is that a problem? Well, he doesn't exactly lead with that information. He's a young guy, and he enjoys innocent flirtations. The problem is when the ladies take him seriously, only to learn later that he not only has a girlfriend, but also lives with her, which implies a level of commitment not to be easily broken by a new pretty face.

While I personally have witnessed Ozzie flirt with and charm young ladies without mentioning his girlfriend, I've discussed this with him and feel it's just part of his personality. Honestly, he's just as friendly with everyone - older ladies, guys, doesn't matter. He doesn't feel like "I have a girlfriend" is something he needs to blurt out immediately, particularly if it doesn't come up naturally in the course of the conversation. I met a couple of his "mates" not long ago, and was told only later by my friend that both of them have girlfriends back home. Neither of them acted inappropriately, but both were friendly, a bit flirty, and neither mentioned any lady love. Maybe it's a cultural thing?

I suggested Ozzie get a t-shirt made: I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND; I'M JUST FRIENDLY. Or perhaps, TAKEN, JUST AUSTRALIAN. He asked me to write about this so I could ask you, my lovely readers of infinite wisdom and insight: when do you bring up your relationship status?

Maybe I'm Childish...

...or maybe just sating the curious minds out there. What happened with Desk? people are asking. No, they really are, I'm not just using that as a ruse to start a blog entry. I debated a while, but ultimately I've decided to go ahead and share EXACTLY what happened with Desk.

I wasn't sure I would write this, because at some point, he did have the address to this blog; however, I'm pretty sure he never read it. It's probably beneath him. That and this blog's entire purpose is to tell the weirder tales from my dating life, and this is in the top ten now. So I'ma tell it! If he reads it, well... Hey, dude, you shouldn't have been such an ass. Maybe going forward I should ask guys I date and/or sleep with to sign waivers?

Before it hit the end, we already knew: he's too serious, I'm too goofy, we figured it wouldn't work. He demanded I lower my walls, I conceded. I cried in front of him, opened up, told him things. Me crying in front of someone is kiiiind of a big deal, so that was actually an important step for me. We continued to see each other once or twice a week, screw our brains out, talk, laugh, get drunk and stoned, text each other. Things were all right.

I knew it wasn't a Relationship, although I also knew we were exclusive sexually, for health reasons (we'd talked about this), and I didn't care about anything else. I knew he wasn't someone I wanted long-term, nor was I someone he wanted long-term. But I figured, we were fucking, so we must at least be friends. And friends go to each others' homes, meet each others' friends. And yet, we only hung out at my place.

Enter the naked bike ride. I met someone there, later that night got very drunk with him, and we made out. That's it, nothing else, but we Made The Fuck Out. It requires capital letters. It was a long, drawn-out, and quite public session of face-sucking. And it was fun. I haven't seen him since, and I'm not crying about it. But it reminded me of what it was like to just let go and have some fucking FUN with someone I found attractive.

My next date with Desk was a few days after that. I got him to agree to go out to dinner for once, but still... everything felt a bit forced. I wanted to laugh and joke; he wanted to have Discussions as usual. Somehow at the end of dinner, he went off on some rant about people just not thinking about things, and how can they not think about things. This went all the way back to my place. By then, we were on the topic of the environment and HOW can people NOT THINK about this? (says the guy driving a piece of shit car that's falling apart and probably putting out more pollutants every time he drives it than my car does in an entire week)

Still, we go in, watch a movie, bonk - but the sex is different this time, as I'm just not into it and he can tell. He gets ready to leave. I say something about seeing his home. I'm thinking, we keep hanging out and fucking, so why don't we ever do it at his place? He kind of... freaks out. It's weird. He gets super twitchy, says I still have "too many walls," and for him "it takes time" and he "has to be comfortable" and all this other rot. He tells me if I don't deal with my "walls" that I'm going to "go back to sitting alone in [my] apartment." What. Then he spouts, "I thought my intentions were clear when we started." "Oh," I replied, thoroughly done with the entire conversation and just wanting him to leave. "You're right." I hugged him, said goodbye, and closed the door. I'd decided right then and there that the feeling I'd had earlier that evening that we were through was, in fact, what was to be. It was over.

1. SO VERY SERIOUS PRETENTIOUS
2. Didn't wear deodorant ("it causes cancer" - right, because those cigarettes you smoke don't)
3. So, I have to drop all my walls immediately, even though we've only known each other a month, but YOU need TIME to "be comfortable" before you can introduce me to your home or your friends? Double standard much?

The next day, I got a text from him apologizing for "acting passive-aggressive" the night before, and that he was writing out his feelings in more detail and would send it to me when he was done. I read the text, shrugged, and put down my phone. I honestly didn't care what he had to say. I considered replying saying something along those lines, but couldn't even muster up enough interest to do that. When a couple of days went by with no email, I hoped he'd just dropped the idea and we could go our separate ways without further Discussion.

Ohhhh no. That was not to be.

TO BE CONTINUED....

(note: a friend suggested I do one day a week dedicated to the really good Jerk Stories. So Mondays now will be Douchebag Day, until I run out of those stories. The rest of the week, I'll just post whatever comes to mind. So, yes, you have to wait until next Monday to get Desk: The Email, Pt 1.)

Making THE MOVE

BobGinger: *sigh* I feel like I need to take a step back from the OMG SEX posts on my blog, but I have no idea what to write about. *writer's block*
Mrs. H: hmm.. how about the transition?
BobGinger: the transition? I am not formerly a man, Mrs. H. I know I'm boyish, but come on!

Hee. Mrs. H went on to explain she meant "how to go from 'date' to 'post date.'" How to make your move, I suppose. It can be awkward. Especially if you think a move is there to be made, and the person you're with is either not expecting said move, or - sadly - does not WANT said move. Signals are HARD, okay? [insert penis joke here]

So now I'm thinking... surely there have been times in my life where a move was attempted and thwarted. Maybe it was a poor attempt, maybe it was an unwanted attempt... maybe the word "attempt" is just going to get super weird... but the stories have got to be there.

Oral Sex: Pt 2

It turns out that it's harder (heyooo) to write about oral sex than I originally anticipated. I thought to myself, I love to receive it, I love to perform it, this'll be easy!

But here's what it turns out I have for you:

1. Yes, do it.
2. Breathe through your nose.
3. Don't involve your teeth.
4. It's not entirely oral: get your hands on in there.
and one more, specific to blowjobs: 5. Just swallow. Nobody likes a spitter.

Having given oral to both men and women, I thought maybe I was a little bit qualified to talk about both sides. Then again, I have to admit I'm a little short on one requirement for gaining The Full Experience: I don't have a penis. I have actually instructed other women on how to give good head, but in the end I just can't speak to the feelings on the other side.

Solution: approach a few of my handy-dandy penis-havin' friends!

And the first thing I learned was that the dudes' reactions to me asking them about blowjobs was, "I'm a fan." Well... okay.

BREAKING NEWS

MEN LIKE BLOWJOBS

HOLY CRAP WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED

Now that you're done being shocked and amazed, now that your entire world has been flipped about, now that you're re-evaluating everything you ever thought you knew... yes, I tried more specific questions. Here's some of my results:

BobGinger: are you available for penis-related questions at this time?
Penis Owner #1: Um. Yes?
Penis Owner #1: What's your query?
BobGinger: it is re: blowjobs
BobGinger: I assume you like them
Penis Owner #1: Yes.
Penis Owner #1: Yes I do.
BobGinger: but I need more information
Penis Owner #1: Okay.
Penis Owner #1: Do you know anywhere that they are giving away free samples?

One of the questions I decided to ask is if guys like beejays as the main event, or only as foreplay.

Penis Owner #2: they are a great precursor to sex. it's rare that a BJ is all I want, unless the girl is amazing at it. and that generally requires two things:
A). A serious desire to give head. Not just doing it because, but really really enjoying it
B). And them being nuts

Penis Owner #3: well that depends
Penis Owner #3: both
BobGinger: depends on what? if she's super amazing at it? or your mood?
Penis Owner #3:  haha well I'm always in the mood! more like if she can't because of the time of month
Penis Owner #3:  then it's good as the whole event

Penis Owner #3 also contributed this: an unexpected bj is one of the great things in life. Like you're just sitting around, eating breakfast... and BANG.

So there you go. Blowjobs? Good stuff. Get on down there, breathe through your nose, keep it wet, don't use your teeth, DO use your hand(s), let your tongue in on the fun, don't forget about the balls, and SWALLOW. There's my advice for you. Go forth and suck it.

An Oral Tradition

As of today, I have been officially single for a year. And a day. As I mentioned in a previous post, I broke up with the last fella I called Boyfriend on the 4th of July, 2010. For some reason, this strange anniversary is making me want to write about something very dear and close to my heart: oral sex.

Let's start with women. I personally adore a man who loves to go downtown. It's a fantastic way to wake up, and it solves the whole morning breath fiasco - if he's kissing those lips, I'm not worried about how my mouth smells/tastes. Guys who try to kiss me in the morning? NO. Even I don't want to be anywhere near my face before I've brushed my teeth, so I certainly don't want anyone else up in there.

But up down there? Yes please!

Here's my concern, though... I have met many ladies who do not want or let their men munch some pink taco. And I have also met men who do not want to do it.

WHAT.

I have many problems with both those scenarios. Let me start, again, with the ladies.

The concerns that I have heard most often from ladies are, "what if I smell/taste bad?" Um. Do you shower on any kind of regular basis? Then you're fine. And if you are the kind of woman who is concerned about if she smells or tastes bad in her nethers, you are probably also the kind of woman who keeps clean, so STOP WORRYING ABOUT IT.

Most men I know who like women also like the smell and taste of women. It's pheromones. Just relax and let him do his thing - trust me, you will both be happy. If you're concerned but daring, go ahead and give him a smooch when he comes back up; see how you taste firsthand. I'm betting you will be delightfully surprised.

Men... the only reason I've ever heard for a man not enjoying giving oral is that he's worried he won't be good at it. Well, guys, how are going to GET good at it? Find a patient woman and tell her you'd like to learn. Just keep your teeth out of it and you'll probably be just fine. Breathe through your nose. Incorporate your fingers. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy her reactions. Tell her she tastes good, in case she's a Concerned Lady - it might help her relax and enjoy the experience, and if she's not a Concerned Lady, she probably likes hearing that anyway.

With all that said, what I really want to know is: what are your favorite euphemisms for going down on a girl? Because I'm just not sure how I feel about "munch a pink taco."

No Glittery Poop Here!

Earlier today I noticed in my stats that I had traffic from Google. The search term that led to me?

"i dont poop glitter"

Whoever you are, can we be friends? Please? I don't poop glitter, either.

Glitter Dump

No, this isn't a story about glittery poop, although if I had a story about glittery poop, you can bet your ass I'd be sharing it.

Fun fact: I think talking about poop is the height of hilarity, but I WILL NOT let anyone hear me poop. Hell, I run the water when I pee. Why? Fuck if I know. I've been doing it for as long as I can remember, literally. Mom says I started when I was 3 and she doesn't know where I picked it up, either.

One time a boyfriend and I ate out, and despite taking my magical Lactaid pills, my stomach became quite irate (like how God gets when you waste sperm) on the drive home. By the time we got to my place, I wanted to burst... but instead, I suggested he start a movie and I would join him in a few minutes. I found a movie, put it in, and waited until it was good and started (meaning, lots of sound going on) before I went to the bathroom and let it all go. With the water running. I'm not asking for this to make sense. I'm just relating the tale of pain and woe. As crass I have become, I guess I still retain some of that good ol' Southern Belle decorum somewhere in me. SO NO POOP NOISES. But I'll tell you all about it afterward.

Sidebar over.

Glitter dump actually is the title I'm giving my story about the time I was dumped while covered in glitter. CREATIVE.

Internet Hob-Knobbing

Why is called hob-knobbing? It makes me think of hobbling around, or bonking hobbits on their heads maybe.

I already posted this week about my interaction with Dooce. My other favorite blogger is Miss Doxie, and not long ago she set up a Facebook page. Today she posted about how she's just discovered Honey Badger (who don't give a shit). In response, I posted a link to one of my pictures from SlutWalk.

She responded within the hour: "I just fell the hell out of my chair laughing. That is the best photograph ever taken." And now she is sending my picture to her friend.

GUYS

I made Miss Doxie laugh! One of the funniest people I have ever, ever read, and I MADE HER LAUGH.

Bam, son. I'm done.

(okay, this would be better if I'd actually been the one who made that sign that she's laughing at, but ... I can be a funny proxy, right?)

(I promise I will have more dating misadventure stories soon. I think the next one will involve me being topless and covered in glitter. Yep.)

COMPLETELY UNRELATED: This advice column is fantastic, and this one in particular - read the 2nd question/answer. Very important info re: blowjobs, a subject I take quite personally. I have been in that woman's situation, and I think the dude's advice to her is fantabulous. READ IT READ IT NOW

I dream big

and I have supportive friends.

BobGinger: Everyone who blogs wants to get paid for it. I have ads on mine but so far have not even made a full penny.

DN: Someday, god willing, you will get that penny

Scooter: no, really.

What was the last I shared about good ol' Scooter? When he wanted a second chance?

I don't recall if I've mentioned that I've seen him a couple of times. I'm pretty sure I mentioned he's been staying with a friend who lives around the corner from me. Both times I've seen him, he's been riding his bicycle out of the alley that leads to that house.

The first time, I was just coming out of my apartment on the top floor, so I put on my sunglasses and pretended I didn't see him at all, even though he'd slowed his bike down and was staring up at me. The second, I was crossing the alley about 2 feet in front of him (and his friend), so I couldn't pretend. He said "hey, how are you?" and I said "good" as curtly as possible without looking at him and speed-walked to my car.

Last week I got a text from him saying, "Hey, how are you doing?" to which I didn't respond.

Today I was helping some friends move. As one friend and I leaned against the back of my car, chatting, waiting for things to get going, she asked, "Who's [Scooter]?"

"What?"
"[Scooter]." *points at my trunk* "[Peanut] heart [Scooter]..."
"WHAT THE FUCK THAT'S SCOOTER"

Written in the thin layer of dirt on my trunk was "HI [PEANUT] (heart) [SCOOTER]"

I have no idea if that's been there for a while, or if it was new. It didn't look like there was dirt over it, so probably not old enough to be from when I was actually speaking to the dude. And while we all know I'm not the most observant person in the world, I'm pretty sure I have accessed my trunk at least once in the last week or so, and did not see any writing on it.

Ew.

Time to wash my car.

Love/Hate

Upstairs, trying to do my job but mostly moving around in a 2-foot space, I just stumbled over my own feet. Twice. I dropped a box. I tried to go up the wrong stairs (and needed to be going down). I mistyped and had to correct at least 1/3 of the words in this post so far.

Who spiked my water?? And can you please at least spike it enough that I am having fun instead of just bumbling around like a blind water buffalo at a swap meet? THAAAAAAAANKS.

-note: I feel I should point out that I started writing this yesterday, so it was yesterday that I was wtf-water-drunk. Best part? I even got a weird no-seriously-who-spiked-this hangover by the afternoon. This resulted in me going to Target after work and spending too much money on things like yoga mats (I am going to DO YOGA and STRETCH because that will make EVERYTHING BETTER) and water flavor thingies (I will drink water! and it will cure my headache! because I'm apparently hung the fuck over for no damn reason!).

It's okay, Internet. I'm better today. Let's make a list! Wheeee!

Compliments

"I think you underestimate your face."

"You have very nice eyeballs."

"You're hot. We should have sex."

"No, I like your ears! It's cute how they stick out."

"Are you sure that was your first time?"

"You have great DSL." ("what?" "Dick-sucking lips!" *look of pride at being clever*)

"Music"

Thanks to a co-worker, I can now share this gem with you. This is the checklist apparently given to bimbo teenagers who want to be sexy:

1. Pout lips CONSTANTLY, even while mouth is in use for other activities.

2. Make voice sound slightly petulant at all times. Men like it when you are petulant, even though you probably don't know what "petulant" means.

3. Writhe a lot.

4. Flip/tousle/toss hair constantly. Hair that is not in motion is NOT SEXY.

5. There is no such thing as too much makeup.

Ready? GO





(I'd also like to point out that this girl is 16 [holy shit I did not look even a little like that at 16], from Washington, was in some Miss Teen USA or some-such bullshit contest, and? recently married a 51-year-old B-level actor. FIFTY. ONE. Minus 16? 35. Their age difference has been able to legally drink in the contingent US for 14 years already.)

I'm sorry for that video. I am! Here, to make it up to you, another dancing doggy! Not quite as fantabulous as the chihuahua, but still better than the painful petulant pouty princess.

SlutWalk Report

(note: click on any picture in this post to go to my full SlutWalk photo set on Flickr)

SlutWalk was this past weekend! As is Seattle's custom, it was fairly cool all weekend, only to get SUPER SUNNY and in the 70s during the week. So there we all are, many of us slutted up, and shivering. And yet, there were enough breaks in the clouds for me to get a sunburn... on the tops of my boobs. Even better: I was wearing a push-up bra, so my boobs were smooshed together & up, so the sunburn shape when my boobs are "at ease" looks like a pair of lungs.

Heee.

There was an amazing group there... men, women...


Kids...


Dogs...

(this one was my bff)

(cut for lots of pictures)

In which I rant (again)

(many hours later edit: I am in a much better mood now and the reason is BEHIND THE CUT! OH THE MYSTERY! THE INTRIGUE!)

Excuse me, Internet, but I am peeved. Pissed off, even. And rather than sit here and stew about the things that are irking me all by little lonesome, until I pretty much develop an ulcer, I'm going to go right ahead and share it all with YOU.

AREN'T YOU SO EXCITED

Time for a list!

1. Today is Summer Solstice. Even here in this cloudy grey Pacific Northwest, we're supposed to hit 75 degrees, and it's sunny outside. But I? I am sitting here in jeans and a sweatshirt, a blanket on my lap like a little old lady, and a space heater under my desk burning my shins. Because it's fucking cold in this office. Why is it always 50 degrees in offices? It's SUMMER, dammit, I want to be able to wear SUMMER clothes. And people wonder why I never wear skirts to work. My legs would freeze off, that's why! And my still-new bicycle would be sad because I can't ride it without legs.

2. I fail at sleeping! No, really. It's pathetic. I'm not sure how I manage to be retarded even in my sleep, but I do. I woke up several times last night with my sleep mask pushed up on my forehead. My forehead does not need to be blocked from light, self. My forehead is doing just fine. Also, self? Please stop waking us up every couple of hours all night. The cat does a good enough job without your help. Someone please tell me what's it like to have "a good night's sleep" and wake up... what's that word? "Well-rested." What IS that?

I'm sure there was more, but see? Now that I've typed it out and shared my frustrations with you, Internet, I'm feeling calmer already. So let's do a new list!

Caring about Crazy

First of all, can I just say - who knew sleeping was so difficult?? I recently bought myself a lovely sleep mask, because the longer days are GLORIOUS but totally interrupt my morning snoozes. Then last night I popped in earplugs as an experiment.

Does anyone else hear weird noise when they put in earplugs? Is my brain THAT weird? When I plug those bastards in, I hear an odd sort of humming sound, that pulses. I'm pretty certain I'm hearing my own blood careening around in my veins. What the eff. It's LOUD, people. Almost louder than the all the street/bus traffic noise I'm trying to block out. Is that normal? Is my blood just... extra loud? Like, maybe I have THX-quality blood?

In any case, sleeping in earplugs isn't terribly comfortable because I'm a side-sleeper, and no amount of light- and sound-blocking sleep aid equipment is any kind of match for an insistent cat batting you in the nose and meowing as loudly as he can directly into your face. "I WANT TO BE UNDER THE COVERS NOW BUT ONLY FOR A FEW MINUTES AND THEN I WANT OUT AGAIN OKAY? OKAAAY?!? WAAAKE UUUUP!!!"

The point is, I'm extraordinarily tired right now. Having things in place that were supposed to help me not sleep like an idiot, as I normally do and have done for years (oh hai depression, YOU SUCK), seems to have prompted my feline pal to try that much harder to get my attention every couple of hours. All night. With some increase in persistence starting around 4am. Ouch.

I was... hmm. What was I...? Oh! I was going to tell a dating-related story here, because I've wandered away from that topic lately. So now, dear Internet, let's wander back!

Naked in the rain

The last post was SO SERIOUS OMG WHAT

So let me tell you about riding a bicycle in the rain and about 50 degree weather with a startling brisk breeze once in a while. While naked.

A couple of buddies (and "buddies" is the word I use to describe people with whom I am friendly, but rarely hang out - we're Facebook friends, and can probably count our in-person interactions on one hand - I feel it's important to conveying the spirit of this event to point out that really, I barely know these dudes) decided last minute to join in the fun, and brought along another friend I'd never met. We rode to the painting party, paid our dues, and walked in... to a room packed with nekkies. Suddenly, wearing clothes seemed really awkward.

We found a spot, stripped, and hunkered down to unpack paints and such. Then the 3 boys stood up. I was still fiddling with paints, when I glanced up, took in my, er, surroundings, and sprang to my feet quickly. "Suddenly I felt really weird being the only one still kneeling..."