September 22, 2011
Witching Hour Sex
If you ever watch “Paranormal”, the show, then you know the Witching Hour as that dead time of night. Somewhere between the hours of 2 a.m. and 4 a.m., if I’m not mistaken. It’s the opportune time where you sit around in a circle out in some random forest and ask the night why the haunts won’t leave you the F*ck alone!
All sorts of spooky things happen at this time. Kitchen faucets turn on unprompted, cabinet doors creak open and all kinds of dark and questionable activities bubble up to the surface and expose themselves to us mortals.
This is not at all unlike what happened last night. It was 3:34 a.m. and my body signals woke me up. Don’t know why I insist on drinking so much water before lights out, but whatever. After climbing back in to bed, I just lay there, totally awake under my closed eyelids. I kept thinking I was hearing things. I finally gave up and turned over, my arm lightly hitting against my slumbering boyfriend.
Hmm, boyfriend. A good distraction from pretending to hear things that were not making sounds.
So, to be completely honest about the boyfriend, I haven’t been feeling too horny these days. I’m back at work and consumed with testing, grading, conferencing, making connections, going to the gym, getting my volleyball team together…I just haven’t been feeling the heat, in other words.
And then 4:12 a.m. struck. I was still laying there, restless. The witching hour is a heavy time of night, I decided. It’s too creepy to go downstairs and play my now-set-up Nintendo. It’s too late at night to flip on lights and look like a signal for the coming of the redcoats. It’s too impossible to go back to sleep. It’s too mindless to putz around on Facebook. It’s only safe to stay in bed, where you don’t stand in the kitchen and witness all your coffee mugs and cans of soup re-sorting themselves. It’s also just right for some late night/early morning sex.
And that’s just what I did. My dear boyfriend played nicely with me and made little effort to fend off my advances. (Good boy!). He was rather welcoming, much to my sincere happiness. Who said only evil things move around at this time?
I should start my own show.
April 26, 2011
Sex Depression
Ugh, gotta get over this!
This past weekend, I had my boyfriend over the entire time. Not once did I feel the desire to uncross my arms or my legs for some fun times. I’m not clinically depressed, just socially, spiritually, physically…not that this definition sounds much better.
My 20’s held no such sexual barricade. I feel like I was always in the mood. It’s not that I wasn’t upset about my life, I’m sure I felt marginalized, held back, put-down and all the other sorts of negative emotions. The difference, is that I didn’t let it leak into my brains’ desire for love-making.
Life has gotten more serious at 32. Sometimes, I have to count from ’78 because I’m not entirely convinced I can actually be that old. My foul mood is attributed to the social uprisings in North Africa, continuous fighting between Israel and Palestine, our failing economy, the tiresome gloominess of my Newsweek articles, my family’s loss of income, and my precarious job situation. This is just what I can focus on at the moment. I guess a symptom of depression is an inability to concentrate or follow a stream of thoughts…so, there you go.
Sex feels great! Why can’t I just get over this shitty mindset and get back to feeling good?! I told my boyfriend about my state of mind and being the understanding man that he is, he put his manly parts away. Poor guy! (I kind of rain-checked him, and said I’d make it up to him next weekend).
So, now I’m on a mission to get randy by next weekend. Herbal remedies, vent writing and volunteering at Union Station are just 3 solutions I’m considering. With only 5 days to go, I have much work to be done…this mission has oddly improved my mood. Oh, the irony kills!
Image thanks to:
http://www.teen-beauty-tips.com/sex-and-depression.html
January 30, 2011
Shakespeare and Cheating
“We can call these delicate creatures ours and not their appetites”
–Othello
William Shakespeare knows all when it comes to men, women and infidelity. His scripts are riddled with sexual sword play and the naughty joy of ‘being plucked’ . But, they are also dense with lines from sorrowful soliloquies, like the one just above. Afraid of playing the cuckold, Othello suspects his fair Desdemona of cheating on him with the even-fairer Cassio. In dismay, he utters these words.
450 years later and our behavior has not changed–we still love sex and we still fight off, or succumb to, temptation. Last night, my boyfriend wasn’t here 7 minutes before I pulled him in to my bedroom. Evening delight! That’s the way of things in my household, and I bet in yours, too. Sexuality is a privilege. It’s infectious and meant to be enjoyed–responsibly. However our “appetites” as Othello observes, are insatiable. Though your sweetheart may hold the key to your heart, he does not own the body armor locking your primordial desires inside.
I fashion sexuality to wine (as I can usually find parallels between my favorite drink and all other walks of life). Red Zinfandel is delicious and full-bodied. It is so divine, you drink it all by itself, and would never pour a second glass of Pinto Noir to sip simultaneously. One drink at a time, in my opinion. Fidelity is like that. You enjoy one person at a time. One relationship at a time. You drink in their features, slide down their arms and legs, soak in each taste and hold them in your ready mouth. De-lish.
Infidelity however, celebrates any and all intimate experiences. It is the highest rank of body language and personal disrespect. At the same time, it’s a sure fire way of getting out of a relationship. And, it should be. We shouldn’t be scared of people’s lack of virtue, as the very act suggests a real corrosion between the original parties of the relationship. When words fail, actions speak up. If and when my man opts for another flavor of woman, it’s all the message I will need. And if I were to sway towards this regretful act, then I could only hope that is was in order to save myself from something far worse.
None of this is easy to absorb. Deceit cuts horribly deep for the victim and guilt transcends the waking hours for the fallen. The fear of failure, of failing to keep our mates honest or ourselves, should never supersede our desire to find and hold love closer still. Being unfaithful is nothing modern but being fearless of it’s inevitability could just be. Shakespeare, your Othello could have taken heed from such advice.
Image thanks:
http://keturahweathers.theworldrace.org/blogphotos/theworldrace/keturahweathers/love2.jpg
December 2, 2010
Getting In the Way
It’s December and I’m talking myself into the new season. I even went on FB and posted, “Happy December 1st!”. I’m almost believing my own enthusiasm.
I’ve been thinking about this past year and all the areas of my life that still need improvement. I’m roughly $40,000 in debt from school loans and five of that is from 2 summer’s ago Hawaii trip. This heavy money bag haloes around me like a vulture’s descending path. Concentrating on other things this year, I didn’t seem to make much of a dent in it. Each month I’d look at it, pay it, frown and move on.
Besides forking over more of my money, there were other things I wanted to do but just never did. I’d been feeling like volunteering my time, my services, my ways…and I didn’t do that either. With little money to donate, I kept telling myself I’d make up for not contributing to “Feed the Children” and “KCRW” by runnin’ on over there and feeding the hungry. It didn’t happen, not even once.
I just seemed so busy this year, but with what, now I cannot remember. Over this past weekend, I even browsed around for a Boys and Girls Club ‘Big Sister’ program. After thirty minutes, I got frustrated and gave up–there was no Pasadena group available. “Oh, I’ll just start fresh with the New Year”, I thought to myself. There was something about it being the end of the year, that gave me the ‘go ahead’ to postpone my goals. Can’t say I’m too proud of that.
Why does it seem that sometimes I’m the only one who gets in my own way? People pay off their debt, stand up to volunteer, and make a kid smile by being their mentor. Somehow though, I was not one of these perfectly philanthropic people…and I thought, someday I would.
I like this!
Something my wise trainer said to me last week has been resurfacing and making me think. I was talking about taking a walk after Thanksgiving dinner and she said, “Good, don’t worry about being perfect, just be good”. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now I’m starting to.
I want to be good. I want to do good. I want to get clean good out of my own way…and do the things I write about.
Image thanks:
http://t3.gstatic.com/images
November 28, 2010
Religion and Relationships
How do we fit in this mix?
We were talking to some good friends over the weekend and our topics focused on the two no-no’s: politics and religion. The only other girl present, Anita, had some strong views about a higher power and how He leads and protects. We each had different opinions and were eager to defend them. This is a touchy subject because it can really appear to be a personal attack on one’s beliefs. I very much believe in God and feel that all that happens, happens for a specific reason. Though I can’t fully overcome my money troubles, my struggle to reach particular health goals, nor my grief over losing my father…they remain in the balance…for a reason. Something I must have the patience to one day understand.
My boyfriend does not feel the same way I do. He senses a randomness of the world and sees no logic for why good people must suffer and bear pain that should never have been targeted towards them. I have not witnessed my dear family losing their life’s battle like he has, nor can I try to explain his experiences away. That’s not for me to do. It’s a sensitive subject, much the sort that is to be visited with sincere listening and an ability to respect someone else’s views. What happens when we seriously disagree with our loved ones? How do we reconcile each other’s opinions and still hold each other in love and support?
This was tough for me to do. I love my boyfriend and I admire his strong sense of being. Sure, I wish he would hold some of my views, to make things “easier”, whatever that means. Honestly though, his views make me think and challenge me to seek rationale for my own convictions. I think a thing or two of mine has done the same for him. That’s all I can hope.
Image thanks go to:
http://lastpostofsanity.com/?p=257
November 18, 2010
It’s Me, Not You!
Not much could have prepared me for the other guests at the B party.
I was invited to a birthday barbeque and actually met someone named, “Earth Woman”. She walked in, all flowing skirts and tunic shirts. She looked more like walking drapes. She smelled heavy too, not bad like body odor, but pungent like old lady smell. Isn’t that a terrible thing to say? I don’t know if I’ve actually smelled an old lady with an old lady smell…
This was clearly a party of eclectic persons. The second party goer I met was named, “Crab”. He didn’t have a last name, but unlike Prince, he bore no redeeming qualities, no fine display of tight pants nor energetic message of party years to come. I mumbled something about hunger and scavenged for some olives and brie. Relieved to find something deliciously inhuman, I kept my mouth full while walking across the room.
The party was for Brianna, a distant friend who I hadn’t seen in three years. She happened to be in town from the Bay Area (yes, she was a notable granola girl) and I responded “Yes!” to her birthday E-Vite. A new couple walked in the door with a pot of tulips. The flowers were once dark pink, but had since turned rusty on the tips. When the lady-guest handed the pot to the birthday girl, I read her lips saying, ‘you’re gonna need to water this’. Yah lady, no kidding. Excuse me, but who brings a dying plant as a gift for someone’s birthday?
Despite having no date, I was beginning to like this party…in an odd way.
While the grill was being completely ignored, I decided to focus my attention towards the robust man on bacon duty. I had no clue who he was exactly, nor his connection to Brianna, but I knew he liked wearing overalls without a shirt. He attracted me instantly because of the sizzle of his bacon-making hands. When I had first arrived to this shin-dig, there was no hostess to greet me, rather it was the sharp *pang, *pop, *tss sounds from the kitchen. I walked behind him a couple of times, trying to get a quick look or taste of the magic, but no such luck was had.
I eventually gave up on getting fed and plopped down on one of the mis-matched chairs. Lucky for me, it was the ever-generous Tulip Twins sitting right next to me. Come to find out, over a lengthy conversation of “The Walking Dead”, this fine duo were named, Casey and Shannon. Naturally, his name was Shannon and hers was Casey. Interesting switch there, you two.
By now, I was an hour in to the party and settled in to survey the room. Our chairs happened to be situated across from a large floor to ceiling mirror and as I looked to my left, then to my right…I was certainly beginning to look like the kink in the chain. How was my black dress and black boots making me look so out of place? All these people had creativity, wore bangly bracelets and carried dog treats in their pockets. True, they were slightly odd, but they didn’t even notice it. I could only notice me, and how I just didn’t fit in.
November 13, 2010
And the Award Goes to…
My boyfriend is the life of the party. The lobster tail on the plate. The spider on the wall. The thing you can’t help but to look at, in other words. This is one of the reasons why I love him so darn much. He entertains, shares funny asides (usually at the expense of himself) and makes people feel warm just by being around. In essence, he is me, but the totally tall, good-looking, more gregarious version of myself. Oh, and he’s a he.
This last October, we threw quite the Hallow’s Eve partay at his place. Filled to the third floor with costumed friends and masked strangers, I found myself busier than ever. Between burning plunked down doughy cookies and throwing back strawberry jello-shots, I began to see just how awesome my man truly was.
I always thought I was the one who had amazing friends and an amazing personality. Yes, I did just write this. Come on, if I don’t love myself THIS much, who in this round world will? (Try saying that 3 times). It was easy to see how he moved so casually from group to group, dropping mini-cues of past times where they were all together. Mr. and Mrs. Star Wars laughed in response, and off he went…in search of his new fan base. I hope I’m not making this sound shallow, because it was anything but that.
Watching him, I felt relieved, and a bit drunk. I realized I had found someone who I didn’t need to make excuses for, or someone I needed to tell stories for, in order to make them sound more interesting. This was someone, who introduced me as his “girlfriend”, by pulling me over with my cookie pan and hugging me proudly. I felt like I’d won an award all night. This is probably one of the best feelings I’ve had in my 30′s, let’s just say that.
Image thanks:
www.oregonlottery.org
www.mybswim.org
October 19, 2010
To What Do I Owe the 3-Day Relationship?
My first relationship lasted three school days and twelve vacation days.
We basically held hands on Thursday and ate lunch together under the pergola on Friday. School let out for winter break and halfway through my vacation, I began feeling weird about my new boyfriend, Mark. Perhaps I had started something I didn’t want to finish.
I remember the day as if it were only 19 teeny years ago. I was listening to a tape, Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’”, and all the while twirling in my mom’s swivel desk chair. The complete turn around of my heart was born out of lyrics. I listened and re-listened, following along with the cassette print, and I sensed there was this bigger world I needed to be a part of. I felt like I loved that song more than anything else at that moment. True, the song meant a different enchilada to the Heartbreakers, but I was absorbing it through a 13 year old’s narrow mind.
As I sat there thinking about this new relationship I was in, I tried to remember what I liked about Mark. His letterman jacket that first caught my attention in the quad…well, it now seemed juvenile to me. The colors were red and yellow–probably USC, but it just reminded me of ketchup and mustard. His shiny braces, formerly so inviting, now made me think his mouth was abnormally large, at least three times bigger than normal 8th graders. We had maybe spoken on the phone once since school let out, and we certainly hadn’t spent anytime together…so how could he have done anything to make me unlike him?
That was just it, he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there physically and he wasn’t in my thoughts either.
The third day of our relationship was the day I broke up with him. We were back at school and I told him I thought we’d be better as friends. He dropped my hand, that I can remember. It was the right thing for me to do, for I couldn’t see myself singing that song with him next to me.
I owe a lot to those Junior High days and to Tom Petty no less…for music just wouldn’t be the same without them.
Image thanks go to: http://media.photobucket.com/image/hold%20hands/Jasmynn_03/holdinghands.png
October 5, 2010
Wait, wait, don’t tell me!
Decide, already!
I’m feeling mediumly shitty. You know when plans fall through and you’re left sitting in the car deciding on whether or not to go through with it? Whatever “it” is?
This past July a few of us friends, including my boyfriend, threw around the idea of going to Hawaii for summer 2011. I had been to Maui once and fell unabashedly in love. The main reason I returned home was because I had a round trip ticket. Oh, and the cat needed crunchies. Can’t deny my amazing friends would also string me up by the cankles! Anyway, I suggested this was where our future vaycay should take us and the group happily agreed.
3 months slip by and I broach the subject during a morning hike. “Um, so babe, I’m going to put aside $200 bucks this month, you know, for our summer vacation next year”. I looked back at him, stepping carefully over rocks and branches. He made no reply. Starting to question his silence, I rephrased my intentions. “What do you think about that amount?”. He cooly replied that he needed to pay off debt, instead. To be fair, he is doing the right thing. Probably the thing I should be doing, in all honesty. I understood his position, but was seriously disappointed.
I have no problems with being responsible. Heck, I carry a backpack full of it Monday through Friday. As far as debt goes…I am set in that department. Meaning, mine ain’t goin’ nowhere. My crappy feelings stem from the fact that I was the one who had to ask in order to find out. What if I was saving money for three more months, all along assuming honey-bunches-of-fun was coming with me?
When did he change his mind? I didn’t ask. I just let it go. The same way I’m gonna watch myself go to the beautiful island of MAUI.
Ka'anapali Beach
September 28, 2010
To Be A Man
What do I feel like today?
I like assuming men live easier lives than women do. Rolling this over in my head is still better than watching the darned commercials between my new-old fave show, “Murder She Wrote”. Men are so physical and can be so easily satisfied in so many ways. Hungry? Eat. Randy? Screw. Restless? Jump. Tired? Sleep. Uncomfortable? Poop. Bringing happiness to these guys just takes some movement in some way or t’other (ew). These flimsy truths make me relieved and disappointed at the same time.
Envying the simpleton is a disgrace! I occasionally do, however. I get all torqued up about something irrational–a misplaced ‘i love kitty’ mug. Flames begin sparking from my eyes and all my sweetie-pie-sugar-pop can do, is remain calmer still. I don’t think anything could madden me more. Is he really the one who’s in control? All that subltely translates in to a high tower position? This is when I reach down for a slight tug on the man rope. No penis yet.
Stating differences between men and women is no new novelty. I didn’t notice or care about these disparities ten years ago. The next late night drink-fest weighed more heavily on my decisionous plate. The 30′s are a different place to think and live however, and our contrasts are no longer slight. With topics and goals like: owning a home, getting married and having children, how criminally easy it must be…to be a man.
My over-ability to analyze every movement and every word from my boyfriend is troubling. Instead of looking at what his behavior is, I look at what it is not. Demented and irrational, I realize this. It is some comfort to think, that being a man would be nothing like this. That you would see things for exactly what they are…a joke is a joke, a short hug is a short hug etc. Who knows, maybe I’ll discover something new when I wake up.
Image thanks:
http://www.insure.com/images/articles/man-woman-symbols.jpg
