Friday, December 3, 2010

Double Duty

Before I continue with the Taboo Subjects; I have to touch on this one. 

A few days ago, I was watching a video on YouTube, but before the video launched, there was
a commercial and I wish I could remember the name of the organization which sponsored it, but I just can't.   While I was trying to locate it again, I came across this ad from Brazil from last year.  

The whole idea...and it's not just in this worldwide campaign to save water.   To conserve.  And everyone is asked to eliminate the flushing of their commode at least one time everyday.  Their solution?  Pee in the Shower!

We could go round and round on this to whether or not it's a good idea... but I will state for the record, that I won't be conserving water by urinating in the shower.     I think I've come up with a better solution to save water each day.   Or at least every so often.   Actually, the more often, the better.

Eat Dessert Once A Day In A Sexual Way!

I'm not advocating getting fat by eating sweets everyday....although everything in moderation keeps one from binging...but let's just call it a Sweet Treat, as it can take on many forms.  That's the beauty of it.   My way of conserving water has options and employs variety and has only positive repercussions. 

The idea is not to use dishes or utensils when you have your dessert.  This saves water because you won't be adding those items to your already full dishwasher and neither will you be washing them by hand...ergo...less water used.

The Concept:  

You and your partner make a pledge that you'll have a Sweet Treat with one another once a day...or at least a few times a week...and....  

...instead of plates and forks and spoons....

...your bodies become the dessert delivery platform and your fingers, hands, feet, mouth, tongue...become the utensils.

This is a solid idea.  Nothing but good can come of it.   It promotes a provocative fun in a relationship.  The provocative fun will then bring about a deeper connection or bond.  The provocative fun bond will also bring about those good feeling hormones which are released when two people are intimate with one another.   It's a total win-win!!!    And, the best benefit of all....water is conserved in the process. 

I know you're probably looking for holes to poke in my idea, but I think I've looked at this from every angle. (no pun or double entendre intended)   One might say that more water will be used because the two people will have to take a shower.   Well, wouldn't you be taking a shower or washing up after being intimate with one another anyway?  (please answer yes)   So, then, shower together..........omg.....another win-win.  This just keeps getting better and better the more we talk this out together!

This idea can be as simple as holding a piece of cake or some cookies on a napkin and feeding one another.  See?........easy.   

It can be as elaborate as building a layered dessert and then consuming it....being careful to leave no morsel behind (again, no pun intended or double entendre).   

It can be as easy as drizzling some homemade caramel sauce on one another or if you want to really take the experience to a new level....employ the use of a government approved aphrodisiac (no such thing.  employing a little sarcasm/irony)...and get double the benefit.   I receive a newsletter each week which highlights a different aphrodisiac.  The one I got yesterday suggested Maple Syrup.    Am I saying I believe in the idea of foods having aphrodisiac properties or qualities?  Well,  honestly don't know... but I do know is that the power of suggestion is a powerful tool.  So, use it!   Whip out the maple syrup....and if you believe it will heighten your sexual senses...then very will!!!

Spray on the whipped topping...

Slather on the custard or pudding or yogurt (if you're into healthy living or want to keep a smooth running digestive tract)

Dip in chocolate and roll in nuts.....

Construct a banana split................

Just do it......!!!!

And while you're enjoying the experience, also enjoy knowing that you've kept a gallon or two of water from being wasted and abused.

Ironic side note:   When I finished writing this, I went in to take a shower.  As soon as that hot water hit me, guess what?  I had an intense urge to "go".   But, as I'm an adult; I waited till I finished showering.....I "went".....and then....I flushed!

A Poked Hole Side note:   O.K., I found a hole.   What to do if you don't have a significant other to share dessert with?   I guess now is as good a time as any to go out there and find one.  Another win-win!

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Boil Water Much?

I've always prided myself on my multi-tasking abilities.   I'm typically involved in several things at a time, unless  I'm on the phone or engaged in a conversation.   Then, that person has my full out attention.  

Well, I guess the hour has come when I need to apply that sort of laser beam focus to other areas of my life.    Earlier today, I put a pot of water on the stove to boil, as I was doing some early dinner prep.   I went back to the computer to work, and I was also doing some laundry.   Some time had passed....and I'm not sure how much time exactly....I guess as long as it takes to melt a metal pot....cause that's what I did.  Check it out:

Taken w/my stupid phone camera, so the quality is poor...  but the inside of the bottom of the pan was heated to the point of liquification. 
See Below

When I picked up the pan from the burner, this dripped onto the stove top.  My daughter is keeping these to remind me not to leave the pot on the stove and then walk I'm always preaching to her the same message!  Love when my words come back to haunt me.  It's precious!


Subjects Which Were Once Taboo, Part II

Let’s jump ahead. It’s my Sophomore year in High School. It’s Spring, 1979. I had just turned 16 that previous October. I was older because I had to wait a year to start school due to an October 1st cutoff …my birthday being in the middle of October caused me to have to wait a full year to start kindergarten.  Riveting...I know!

I was a baton twirler in High School. We did it all……two batons at one time. We twirled fire. We marched in parades. We did the halftime show with the rest of the band and color guard during our High School Football games. We traveled around to compete against other High Schools. It was one of the best times of my life with the best girlfriends. We were a small squad and very close.

Here’s how close we were…..

This particular Spring, we were invited to march in …if my memory serves me correct…..the Apple Blossom Festival parade in Niagara Falls, Canada. We were put up in a tacky hotel up the hill from the Falls and we were set loose on the city. One night, all of us girls were congregated in one of our hotel rooms…. in our jammies, eating junk food, laughing and carrying on. Someone brought up the fact that they were having their “time of the month” and she didn’t want to march the next day with that big pad….(as they had a tendency to inch up the back of your panties and sometimes…to actually pop out if you couldn’t get to it in time. But that’s a whole story for another day.)

One of the older girls among us…..a Senior!…….asked why the girl didn’t just go ahead and put a tampon in. She, like many of the rest of us, had never been able to find her hole either. So, we all went into the bathroom to get a lesson from the older girl, as to how to put a tampon in. When all was said and done, there was much laughing and crawling around on the floor laughing so hard……..but not one of us found our holes that night….unfortunately for the girl who didn’t want to sport her big pad during the parade. She did though…..and everything stayed where it was supposed to.

I was thinking of these stories the other day as I entered my favorite lingerie store, Priscilla McCall's (Priscilla McCall's).  

On my maiden visit to Priscilla's, I was in the market for some new lingerie.  I was new to the area.  Drove by.  For all intents and purposes....the place looked like a lingerie store.   Don't you agree? ( Myrtle Beach Location ).   And, it's not that it's NOT a lingerie store.  There is actually lingerie in there, but not as much as I thought.   It's a very small percentage when compared to the square footage inside versus the amount of lingerie product displayed for sale.   

I really like this store because  it's staffed by mostly middle aged women who are extremely knowledgeable about the products they sell.    I came in for some lingerie and left instead with a toy or two and some very sexy smelling spray on oil and a whole lotta knowledge that I did not possess when I entered.

I'll share that knowledge with you......

next time......

Subjects Which Were Once Taboo

Let’s just say, I was born in the early 60s.   I mention this fact as a point of reference for the next few postings that you’re about to read. Don’t worry, I’m not going to begin a nostalgic walk down memory lane recounting tales of how I walked to school five miles each way in the snow and rain and hail and thunder and lightening. Although….lol……I did in fact walk to school everyday and by the time I got to High School, my walk was 1.5 miles each way (but who’s counting?) It was a living hell I tell ya. Do you have any idea what falling snow and rain and hail and thunder and lightning do to a perfectly coiffed head of hair? (Here's the Route!)

Actually, I prefaced this with my age because in contrast to what young people know today; we (or at least I) were quite inept when it came to matters of puberty and sex. For me, being raised in a strict and stern Italian-Catholic home meant never, ever discussing anything of a personal nature. And I mean nothing personal…….no feelings were discussed…..nothing regarding bodily functions and the changing female body….none of it was brought up. The idea was sort of an unspoken one…….you would figure it out at the right time and as you went along. (Yeah, good luck with that!!!) There was no need to engage in any discussion…..

Thankfully, that way of thinking is mostly in the distant past, but gone with it also is the innocence which was the trademark of young boys and girls when I was growing up. A lot of it had to do with the fact that Dads went to work all day and mom was home. There was a very short leash when it came to being allowed to go places and do things….especially where members of the opposite sex were concerned.

I sure did learn things at “the right time.” My best friend and I were driving in the back seat of our ‘72 Country Squire station wagon while our moms were in the front seat. They were talking and thought we weren’t paying attention to what they were saying. They were laughing and mentioning the number 69. I guess it was the “right time” for us to learn. And boy, did we pay attention. We caught ear of their conversation…even with the radio on and the windows rolled down and our brothers in the back of the station wagon raising a ruckus……we heard the words……”69”……sex…….and screw. It was like our sonar devices were turned on. Our antennae (antennas, if you're not a wordsmith) were raised…and we looked wide-eyed at one another…smiling big…….we couldn’t’ believe this conversation our moms were having with one another…..more or less in front of us. We were curious. What was this “69”?  (we were 13 at the time)

We giggled with one another and vowed, in hushed tones, that we would find out what this strange reference to the number 69 meant in this conversation about sex and screwing. I was sort of pissed at my mother for talking about this stuff so openly and I’ll tell you why…..

Earlier that year, I had received my package from Mother Nature. My very first menstruation cycle. Do you think my mom pulled me aside to tell me about this before it was going to happen? Nope. She didn’t and I had to find out from the school nurse when my “gift” arrived….specially delivery, while I was in Home Economics class in Middle School. It wasn’t like today where girls as young as 9 and 10 are getting “blessed”. I was one of the first of my friends to become so endowed.

I went to the nurse. I knew what it was, but that was it. She sat me down. Gave me a “starter kit” with pads that I can only describe as being the distant cousin to the popular Depends garments worn by the elderly among us today. (Hyperbole alert!). There was some sort of belt contraption in the box whereby I was supposed to clip on my Depends and wear this thing… literally felt like a diaper, and if you’ve ever paid attention to that swishing sound a baby makes when crawling around with a diaper on….that was me… 13!!! The nurse sat down with me and in her most compassionate tone, explained to me what was going on and what would continue to go on…..FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!! (Hyperbole alert!).

It was a jolly time walking home with my huge box of starter pads. The boys in our walking-home- together-group had a field day with that one. I was just glad they didn’t grab it from me and start playing monkey in the

I got home and told my mom what happened. There was no further explanation or follow up….or tender empathy……just a matter of fact….”so the nurse told you what’s going on?”.   I answered: “Yup”.  She said: “Don't say yup.   O.K. then”.

Remembering this exchange had me peeved at my mom for speaking so openly about sex and screwing in the car that day and yet she couldn’t pass along a little knowledge to me as to what the hell was going on in my body in a private mother/daughter conversation.

Oh well…..that was then.  That was the culture and the customs.  

Side note….never found out till years later what “69” was. My friend and I forgot all about it by the time we got to our destination that afternoon.
So, what have we learned so far? The lines of communication were definitely under heavy fortification where sex and puberty were concerned when I was growing up. Here’s how closed they were:

When I was younger, I swam every summer….competitively. Swimming was my life…..whether it was in a pool or at the beach…..I was a fish. The Summer after getting my “gift”, I was on my way to the Community pool…it was where everyone hung out during the Summer if they weren’t at the Shore. Not to be gross, but my mom knew it was that time of month for me because it was evident on my clothing when she did the laundry. I was in the bathroom changing into my bathing suit and my mom opened the door and informed me that I wasn’t going anywhere unless I put in a tampon because I wasn’t going to swim in a pool with my “gift”. I was at the end of my cycle and I told her that, but it didn’t matter She handed me one of those older version tampons….cardboard type….very wide.

I unwrapped it. I looked at it. I read the directions. I had no idea whatsoever where to put that thing. I started feeling around….but it seemed like there were so many flaps down there to deal with…..where was the hole? Where did this thing go? and it was so big… in the world did something so big get in something, I presumed, was so small?

I fumbled around and my mother yelled through the door…”What’re you doing in there? What’s taking so long? You’d better be putting it in….and I’ll know if you did or not because I’ll see the string hanging out”.

Holy Mother of God….the woman was going to inspect whether or not I put it in? Now I was really panicking. There was no way I was going to waste a perfectly good Summer day at home. If I did, she’d find some chore for me to take on and all I wanted to do was swim.
Then: the proverbial light bulb over the head!!!

Since I was having such a difficult time shoving this thing into any part of me down there which even remotely resembled a hole…and I used a mirror and everything…..and it looked awfully gross down there….and I was tired of fumbling around……..and so…..I pulled the tampon out of it’s cardboard housing and stuck it in the crack of my posterior region…and clenched…..tight….lol……..and sure enough…the string was hanging down…, there……there was her “proof”. And of course, she never checked me before I left the house.

I was so afraid of being caught though…that I rode the whole way to the pool, which was about 2 ½ miles…with that thing clenched inside my crack. It hurt like Hell…but I kept thinking……she just might pull up in the car alongside the road and do a spot inspection….and so I kept it in till I got to the pool…..ran into the bathroom…..yanked it out….flushed….and went on my merry way. And she was none the wiser.

By telling you this story, I’ve definitely digressed a bit…..but the point is made…right? The young teenager girls of my day were clueless. We didn’t even know our own bodies. We didn’t even know where things were located. And yes, I’d been masturbating since I was about 5, but I never used fingers to penetrate…everything was done on the outside. No interior regions were ever explored. I was 13 and I didn’t even know where my hole was!!!

more cluelessnes to come.  stay tuned.....

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Totally Hot!

This is hot, hot, crazy hot.  In my book anyway. 

I was signing into my Twitter account this morning and on the Twitter home page was a scrolling list of Top Tweets.    And O.K., I'm sure I'm downright late to the party on this one, but the Dalai Lama has a Twitter account.   Oooops, correction, his "office" has a Twitter account.   I guess that's the same as "The White House" issuing statements to the Press.    Maybe it's the earliness of the hour; I don't know, but I couldn't stop laughing when I went to his Twitter page and saw his little face and I pictured him sitting....on the floor....legs crossed........with a laptop in front of him....typing away........periodically through the day....updating his Twitter account.   Totally raised his "Coolness" factor in my book.

Dalai lama Twitter Account

That got me curious.  And sidenote, this is why it's dangerous to work from home.   Getting sidetracked is so easy, but it's also part of the allure.   As long as the work eventually gets harm, no foul.

Back to my curiosity.  It got me to wondering about other holy fellows and whether or not they were as hip as the Dalai lama appears to be.   I looked up the Pope.  He has several Twitter accounts.  One account seems to be verified by Twitter.  This has been a great energy boost to my morning.  I've been laughing almost non-stop.  When I Googled The Pope on Twitter, I came across some very funny news stories from as far back as two years ago when "the Vatican" (what's up with all these talking buildings?  I wonder if my house is issuing statements to the Press about me behind my back?)....was grappling with the whole idea of going "social media".   The angst among followers was equally distressing.  Now the whole Lot of them seems to have embraced the idea and behave as if none of it was ever an issue.

Twitter Accunt of Pope Benedict XIV

Again, just can't picture the Pope Twittering.  I imagine all of his finery getting in the way.  Maybe he just dictates his Tweets.  Some Cardinal is in charge (hah!....ya'll are welcome....that pun was definitely unintended)...of Tweets Dictation.   Oh man, what a funny, funny world we live in!!! 

These two dudes just made my hottie patottie list!!!  

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Would Give Anything To Have This Car Again!

The age to get a driver's license in New Jersey back in 1979 was 17.   As soon as I aced my test, and I did ace my test...even though I was a girl.  I was the epitome of a good student back then.  I always wanted to do well in school and in sports and anything else I was involved in...and besides all that, nothing less than a B was acceptable in my home.  

I've been ticket free and accident free ever since.  Let's see...doing the math on my imaginary calculator; that makes just over 31 years without incident.   Virtual High Five!!!!

I'd like to think that I wasn't a superficial teenage girl, but I have to say; I did get the hots for a guy in a great muscle car.   A guy sees a woman in a bikini and goes bonkers.  I used to see guys in sports cars and my hormones would do a little "skip to my Lou my darling".    And, Oh Lordy, if that guy's car was a standard shift....then that increased the hot factor to steamy! 

Since the late 70s tons of laws have been passed with regard to what kind of car you can put on the road and safety measures of the highest intrusive nature have been a result....I no longer see guys in souped up cars, in that drab gray primer....awaiting that blessed day when they saved enough money from their part time job to get an actual paint job.   How sad that generations won't know that kind of fun!!!!    O.K., yeah, so now the girls get to tool around town with their BBF's in way nicer cars, but those cars lack a certain je ne sais qua, and I will take it a step further and say that I think a lot of the guys lack that certain something also.  

I remember the first time I went on a date with a guy in High School and he had his own car.   It was a primed Chevy Chevelle and it was all black inside.   He had that great scruffy look to him that's since made a comeback in men's hairstyles the past few years.  He was just cool.   He wasn't a big talker(that was my department!) but when he did speak; he was clever and funny and he always looked at me while he was driving...totally engaged in our conversation and punctuating the end of his sentences with a lingering gaze and a sparkle in his eye.   And all the while.....he was shifting.  And all the while, his hand was close to my leg...shifting....and it sent chills up my spine.  

We went to a drive-in movie that night.   Drive-ins......oh man.   What a great place to hang out!   I thought he was going to put the moves on me that night....but he didn't.  He held my hand, which was then and still is for me today, a very erotic sensation.   He drove me home...loud muffler and midnight.  The whole neighborhood knew I made curfew.....there was no damn doubt!!!!   

The picture above is the color of my first car.   Same color landau roof, but mine was in mint condition...just like the picture of the Monte Carlo in the left sidebar.    It was an automatic, but that was cool because I didn't learn how to drive a stick until 1989 when I was in the Air Force in the Philippines.  

OMG...I can't stress how much power this car had.   It was solid.  It was metal.   Remember metal?  They used to make cars out of it?   lol.    I'm sure I could've sideswiped a brick building back then and not have suffered any dents to the body.   It ran tight.  Smooth.  Quiet.  You just brushed by the gas pedal...and you were off.   I used to take the car to visit my girlfriend in college in Virginia and loved having it on the open highway...blow that carbon out baby!!!!   It was cool and I was totally rocking it out...stylin' behind the wheel. 

The other day I was driving home from work and what to my wondering eyes should appear....????   An unbelievably and totally restored 1976 Monte Carlo.  In the same color as mine...landau roof and all.   I made a U-E and pulled into the parking lot to take a look at it.    I figured the guy who owned the store, owned the car and I had half a mind to go in and ask him to show me the inside of his car, but thought that might not sound right.  lol.  I know myself and I knew I was so excited over seeing this car and over wanting to see the inside and under the hood that I would come off like some screaming teenage girl waiting for the Beatles to step foot (feet?) on US soil.....all giddy, excited, screaming and I might even start crying with joy!    I opted instead to be satisfied with the amazing visual experience and to leave it at that. 

It wasn't all sunshine and puppy dogs and kitty cats and candy canes and lemon drops with that car...there were a few troubling episodes that I suffered as a result of my lover car.

One day, while driving down the road, and for no reason whatsoever, my hood flew up.  I know it sounds incredibly wasn't.  Trust me.  Scared the bejesus out of me.  It was like someone had blindfolded me.   I pulled over I couldn't tell if there was a ditch there or not and came to a stop.    I went to have the latch looked at, but it was fine.   To this day, that incident remains shrouded in mystery.  

One night, on my way home from work, and while travelling at about 30 mph, I made a slight turn to the right to go down a side street and as I banked to the left, my back right wheel flew off.   The car swerved hard....and I came to an immediate I heard what sounded like metal scraping on the pavement.   I got out and a family, walking along the sidewalk, who all looked as if they'd seen a ghost, silently pointed to my wheel.....which was in the middle of the road quite a number of feet back.  I had to get it out of there so no one would hit it rounding the curve with no time to see it.   

When I came upon the wheel, I noticed that it wasn't just the wheel which had flown off, but the wheel was still on the rim.   But it looked weird and I was in such shock and trying to get it out of there quickly that I reached down and grabbed the sheared edges of the rim......and I burned my hand and arm.   It was hot metal...and upon closer examination, I saw it was still smoking a bit.    I ran over to the car and saw that the axle was on the ground.   The whole wheel, rim and all, had bore itself, somehow, through the lug nuts.

The father of the family walking along the road (the family almost hurt by my hurled tire)helped me to get the tire in my trunk.  I drove about 100 feet to the entrance of my apartment complex on my axle.....sparks flying....and talk about chalk on a blackboard?....the awful sound it made was off the charts and I could see people running to their windows to see what was going on.  

Anyway, I loved that car.  It taught me a lesson or two about life... which I now and then try to remember.  I loved that car, there was no doubt about that.   But, it didn't always behave the way I wanted it to.   It wasn't always the most reliable thing on four wheels when it pulled stunts like hoods flying up and wheels shooting made me want to drive it off a cliff.   We worked it out though.   We made it through.   My love never changed, but it moved from total infatuation (in the beginning) through various stages until we got to the point where we settled in on what would be the norm........a fine running, sturdy vehicle and the woman who loved to drive it.

I miss that era when men were men, women were women and cars were cars.  Whatever the hell that means.....but I think you  get the idea!     It was a hot time to be a teenager with a driver's license!!

to be continued.....

Post-Divorce Era Dating I

Divorced.  So, I'm glad to be "free" and all that.   Things ended amicably...that's a plus.   The strange part was standing there after it all went down.  Just standing there.  Wondering.  Wondering..."Now what?".   

No matter how jubilant the moment may be when you realize you're single again, it's still an awkward place to be.   For my part, I was married for just over 20 years.   20 years with the same person day after day after day.    It almost takes 20 years to train a good husband.    Kidding, kidding....TOTALLY kidding.  I am not a feminist, nor do I ascribe to the idea that men are dumb bumpkins and can't make it without a woman following after them making sure they pay bills, match their socks, clean the garage, wash the car, change their underwear, floss, eat, sleep, "wipe".     In fact, I can't hit the remote on my T.V. fast enough whenever I see one of those commercials where the husband/boyfriend is cast in a subservient or condescending light. .   I despise that.   But it makes for good stereotypical humor and banter.   So, indulge me if I slip it in here and there.    All in good fun. 

It wasn't until a full year after being divorced that I decided to venture out into the world of post-divorce dating.   I wanted to feel comfortable with it and I wanted my daughters to feel comfortable with it.   Besides all that, when you're trying to grope about, making your way in a brave, new world...there really isn't time for monkey business...although, it was getting sort of old...eating my bananas all by my lonesome.   I like men.  I think they are the Galaxy's greatest invention and you'll hear me say that again and again.....and I wanted someone to talk to other than the usual cackling of the hens in the coup.    See, I can rag on my gender too.  I'm an equal opportunity harasser.

I was a little tired of being asked out on dates in person and so I went the online route.  This way I could actually learn a little bit about the person before taking the Nestea plunge (and if you get this reference then you've just dated yourself and you're my new best friend!).   That is, if the person wasn't lying about themselves on their profile or posting old photos maybe? one would ever do that....would they?

Contestant #1:

This guy lived a comfortable one hour away.  I say comfortable because if we did hit it off, I could be assured that we wouldn't get all clingy with one another.   Distance would dictate the relationship either ending or going at a nice, slow, steady pace.    

This guy is an Engineer.  He is my age.  He's good looking.  Not a huge requirement, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't help!!!  He wrote well, which is a big hairy deal to me.   I look for key words like mixing up "your" and "you're" and "too" and "to".....for example. I don't obsess over it...and it wouldn't be a deal breaker, but I've found in life that people who can write well or at least express themselves well through matter how quiet they may be in person...well, it's a good thing.   I like it.   It's sort of a turn on for me if a guy can express himself with pen and paper or fingers and keyboard.   It reflects a depth to their personality which is a desirable quality to me.   And I'm not talking about expressing oneself through much writing.  Sometimes, especially where men are concerned...a sentence or two can say quite a bit.   To me anyway.

Moving right along:

I talked to Engineer Guy on the phone quite a bit before we decided to meet.   We met at a Sushi place and ate Sushi and drank Japanese beer and had a great time.   He was a total gentleman and could hold his own in a conversation.   Until.........(cue Dragnet theme)...we left the restaurant.   We actually were the last to leave.  We got to talking with the waitress and bartender and stayed till closing.   It was very frigid outside.  This was January, 2010.  We'd been having a colder-than-usual Winter and so this made standing outside to say our "good-byes" almost unbearable.   Not for me.  I'm of hearty Northern stock and as a rule, go through Winters without a coat, but Mr. Engineer was having a rough time.

Engineer Dude suggested we go to his car where it was much warmer.    I begged off.  He pushed the issue.  I agreed.  We got in the car.  He turned on the heater.  He then turned on me.   He literally (nothing figurative about it)...jumped me.   He was on top of me and unbuckling his belt and pants.  He was pushing down.  I was pushing up, but he was stronger.   I opened the door and got out that way.   I was in shock.  What the hell happened?   The Japanese beer?  Tainted Sushi that poisoned his brain?   I immediately sprinted towards my van (thank you High School track!)

And I thought the guy would just sit in his car.  Buckle up and drive into the sunset (moonrise).  He did not do that.  He got out of his car and made his way towards me.   Now here's the really crazy part...if it all wasn't crazy enough already...his pants were down around his ankles and he was scooting towards me.   I had already hit my remote to unlock my doors, but as I put my hand on the handle; he called to me.   He asked me to wait.    The only reason I did was because I was genuinely concerned now.   Here was a grown man.  A professional by trade....trying to scoot across the parking lot...pants down around ankles...and he trying to lift them and keep a forward motion going.    It was so alarming that it kept me in this static state.

This guy was not the same one I spent the evening with and it was a bit scary.  I honestly didn't want him driving home like that...especially knowing he had a son waiting for him, but he was freaking me out.    I took off.   What was I going to do?  Reason with a grown man in his boxers, in the middle of a sushi restaurant parking lot?   I trow not.  

I did check with him later to be sure he got home alright.  He did.  And that, was that.  

I sat alone a good while that night reviewing the lessons I'd learned from this experience.   The most glaring lesson:   Never ever go out with that dude again!

Monday, November 29, 2010

Surface Level and Beyond

When it comes to music, it seems sort of hack to say "I like a wide array of music"  or "My taste in music is very eclectic".    But.....I do, and it is.    So, call me hack!

Even though I enjoy listening to Top 40 at times...maybe while I'm power walking along the beach or vacuuming the house or mowing the lawn;  it's all just surface enjoyment or something akin to small talk with a stranger in line at the grocery store.    It's what I listen to when I just want to have something on in the background...something with a steady beat...something to keep me on pace.    Nothing more.  Nothing less.   It fills the gaps...sort of like a candy bar in between meals; nothing but empty calories!

Then, there are those times when I like to sit down and actually absorb some really good music...something akin to engaging in an actual, full-out conversation with another human being or sitting down to eat a satisfying meal...things which are meaningful and memorable.

I do a lot of driving in my work and I do a lot of sitting down in front of a computer.   Music is ALWAYS on in my life.     While sitting at a traffic light the other day, a Top 40 song came on.  I started tapping out the beat on the steering wheel, when I suddenly "heard" what I was listening to.   And I said to myself, and I quote:  "what is this crap?"    Most of the tunes I'd heard prior to that one...all sounded the same and they were all sung (such as it was...using high tech wizardry to enhance or distort the voices) "singers".  These were not musicians. 

The type of stuff I really enjoy listening to is the type of stuff constructed by musicians.   The type of stuff that is written and performed by the artist and not by someone else.    The type of stuff that originates from the mind and the heart.  The type of stuff where the person singing might actually be able to pick up an instrument and play it because they know how to read music and everything!

I feel the same way about relationships.   There are those I engage in with others and it's really nothing more than my candy bar between meals.   Empty calories.   A total lack of substance, but fun and exciting and pleasurable nonetheless.    I can't subsist on those sort of connections though and after a while, I not only want more; I need more.  I want to sit down to a feast (conversationally speaking, of course) with one or more persons and enjoy course after course presented before us.  Lingering over everything.  Paying attention to everything.  Noticing the nuances in everything. Enjoying and being enjoyed.

My Point?  I'm not here to delve into hot, sexy, surface-level-only topics.   There will be some of that...some of those candy bars between meals, but my ultimate intention is to go beyond the surface level and to plumb the depths.  To set a table and invite you to come and feast on each course that's presented.   I think you'll find me a sensual person, yes, and I count that dimension of my life to be extremely important, but it's not the only aspect of who I am.    It's just one of my many parts.  Just one.   It does permeate most of what I do, because I want it to.  I have cultivated myself that way.   I like being a woman and I like projecting my sensuality because without it; I think I would be nothing more than an androgynous creature(more on that at a later time).  Yuck!

Next up, I'll try to awaken your palate with an interesting appetizer or two.

Bring your appetite, as my momma taught me how to cook for a crowd!!


Sunday, November 28, 2010

PinUp Countdown

Here's the deal:

At the beginning of this year, I went to see a Bar Basement production of a thespian friend of mine.  Yes, it was literally in the large basement of a bar in Myrtle Beach.    It was a Burlesque/Science Fiction performance and it was quirky and not very well written, and I was actually more enthralled with the atmosphere in the "basement" (the people) than I was with anything happening onstage.   

One thing about this show though...which haunted me long after the last curtsy....was the lead actress.  She was just a few years younger than me and she had a body which was banging hot.   It's one thing to be toned, and quite another to be toned in a way so as to accentuate the parts of a woman's body which distinguish her and make it obvious she's not a fella.

Around the same time, I'd been noticing in the news that Burlesque, in various forms, is enjoying a sort of Revival.    Senior Citizens are going to Burlesque-style exercise classes at their local YMCA, young women are learning the art of Burlesque and taking their shows on the road, and I noticed this past week that Cher has made her own revival in a movie now out in theaters entitled....what else?   Burlesque! 

Along with finding my own interest in the whole Burlesque movement...I found myself very interested in Vintage Pinup Art.    So, I came to a decision.  Call it a midlife crisis if you want.   My last gasp effort to hang onto youth if you will.      

30 is one of those landmark age milestones...maybe not so much anymore, but it was when I passed over from 29 to the Big Three Oh!    My mom called to wish me a happy birthday and she asked me the typical question you ask of everyone who is another year older....."Do you feel any older?".    I said, "No, I feel just as immature as I have since I was a teenager.  I expected there to be a metamorphosis.  Some cerebral emergence of an older, wiser me."   She brought me back to reality......"You keep your same brain!!"

Oh well, and so it seems I have.  

So, here's what my brain and I have decided to do:    I've picked an arbitrary date in the future.  April 1, 2011, to be exact.    April Fool's Day.....that's about right!   lol. 

After watching the performance...back in the Winter of  2010...I spoke with the dude who invited me and told him of my plans to do a Pinup Calendar, or 12 different Vintage Style Pinup Poses.   He told me of a photographer friend of his who would be more than happy to indulge me in my scheme and so it seemed I was all good to go.  I was working out everyday to get my body the way I wanted and then.......

I fell over a raised outlet in the floor of a department store, and ruptured two discs in my back.   It's been a slow, painful recovery and twice the doctor has threatened me with surgery, but I'm getting stronger everyday and I'm ready to take on this project again.    I figure four months will be more than enough time for me to get in Pinup Shape and gather all the necessary props and clothing I'll need to pull this stunt off. 

I've posted a Countdown in the Left Sidebar.   I figure it's a good thing to have accountability in following through with ones hair-brained endeavors.    It would be easy for me to maybe think it's a stupid idea and not continue, but I'm actually stoked about it and am looking forward to the day I have actual pictures in hand!!

Each month I'll post a different picture of a Pinup pose I wish to simulate.    The first one involves the kitchen, as I do sort of fancy myself an amateur chef.   My specialty?   Hot and Spicy foods......what a shocker, huh?