Archive | August 2014

Taking out the trash

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I have a problem.  A trash problem.  It started about four months ago, when I moved in.  For the first time in over a year I found that it was my responsibility to take out the trash.  Well, that just sucked.

So I devised a plan.  I would take out the trash once a week when I was doing laundry.  I would take it out on my second trip to the laundry room when it was time to put the clothes in the dryer.  The trash bins are behind the laundry room, which is across the yard, next to the pool.

That worked for a while, until I got behind on my laundry.  I only got behind on my laundry because I kept forgetting to go to the bank and get quarters.  Damn quarters.

So as time went on and my trash bag sat in the floor next to the stove, I started having visitors.  Mostly male visitors.  Ok, fine.  They were all male visitors.  Very nice male visitors too.  Because each and every one of them offered to take my trash out for me.  Of course I had to decline, because, you know, pride and all.

I always told them that I was going to take it out in the morning, or later that day.  I never did.  Well, I did occasionally.  This went on for months.

Last night Bacchus came over.  We were sitting at the table talking and somehow the topic of my garbage came up.  Of course he offered to take it out.  I declined.  Then I told him that everyone tries to take out my garbage for me.  He admitted that it did bother him that I always had a bag of garbage sitting there.  I laughed.

He proceeded to grab the bags, yes there were two last night, and asked where the dumpster was.  I told him and he took it out.  When he got back I told him that he had completely fucked up my story.  Now it had an ending.  Or does it?

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Happy humping my fellow Oscars!

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Goodbye sweet Adonis

adonisI think I’m done with Mr. 7am, my beautiful Adonis.  I know I said I was going to give him a chance, and I did.  However, he blew it.  His schedule and his inability to have the common courtesy to let me know that he isn’t going to be coming over, as planned, is just too much for me to deal with.  Yes, he did look amazing standing naked in my living room, but that’s just not enough anymore.

His schedule got changed again this week so he was able to come over Tuesday night to hang out for more than a couple of hours.  I was nervous about it because I wasn’t sure if we’d have enough to talk about, and we didn’t, but he does make me laugh and of course the sex was awesome.  Again, it just isn’t enough.  I need someone who I can hang out with, talk to, get to know, not just drink beer and then have lots of sex.

devilgirlThe sex is addicting, and yes, it’s hard to give that up.  That doesn’t change the fact that I find myself stressing out over how shady he is sometimes and over the lack of an intellectual connection.  The sex is supposed to relieve stress, but if he’s causing me more stress in other ways then it’s just not worth it.  I don’t need any extra stress in my life.

Men.  Damn men.  As much as I love them, they drive me crazy, and not always in a good way.  They tell me they want me to do one thing, then when I do it, they tuck tail and run.  So who’s the real coward here?  At least I’m out there trying.  I’m looking for something deeper and something meaningful.  I may not always go about it in the best way possible, but at least I’m trying.

So in the spirit of not becoming a hermit who sits at home on the couch all the time, I’m about to get ready and go to my local watering hole for some dinner, drinks, and live music.  Of course I’m hoping DC might be there, but even if she’s not I’ll be fine.  I’m going to go relax and enjoy the show.  NO stress, NO man, NO problem.

Happy humping!

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Dear Mom, please stop praying for me.

rezar-pray-spanish-englishWhile I was at work this morning my mom called.  Normally she doesn’t call much at all, and especially during the middle of the day.  The last time she called me at work it was to tell me that my grandfather had died.

I answered and she said hello and then asked if my uncle had called me to get my address.  He hadn’t, but my sister did text me last night asking for it.  She didn’t know why my uncle wanted my address, so I’m hoping he’s sending me a very large belated birthday gift, or something like that.

She asked how I had been and I told her I had been sick, but I was back at work today.  Then she wanted to know what was wrong and I told her it was just a stomach bug.  In a very accusing tone that always makes me nervous, “Are you sure that’s all it was?”  “Yes, ma, that’s all it was,” I said like a fourteen year old who had just come home past curfew.

vibratorShe then proceeds to tell me, “You know we’ve been praying for you, right?  Or we were, when we thought you might be getting married.”  Wow, mom.  Thanks for that.  My response?  “Well, you need to stop.”

So when my mom thought that Teacher and I might be getting married, she started praying for me to get pregnant.  She knows we broke up, or rather, he dumped me over four months ago.  So why would she still be praying for me to get pregnant?  Does she think that’s the only way I can get a man to stay with me?  By trapping him?  I’m afraid to even ask her.

Either way it freaked me out, because that’s just what my mom does.  My eye immediately started twitching after I hung up the phone.  I was supposed to call her back tonight, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I don’t need a man, and I don’t need a baby, especially a cute dumb baby with Mr. 7am.  What I need is a raise, a car, and a really good sex toy (see photo and link on right).

When I told my friend Sheldon about this, he agreed that Mr. 7am would probably love it if I got pregnant.  I, on the other hand, would have a panic attack.  So here’s hoping that mom has stopped praying for me, finally.

Happy humping!

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IQ Points Dropping Like Flies

I swear, sometimes, I really do believe that I make men stupid.  Let me explain why.

Mr. 7am, my early morning booty call guy, has evolved into more.  His work schedule changed and now he works until 11:00 pm, but to me he will always be Mr. 7am because he does love his morning sex.  He will never be a real boyfriend to me, mainly because we have nothing in common other than sex, but also because I can’t be in a relationship with someone I only see right before bed and right before I have to go to work.  He hasn’t gotten that memo yet, because I haven’t told him, so he seems to think our relationship is going in a different direction.  I know this is wrong, and I do plan on telling him as soon as the time is right.

What had happened was…

Mr. 7am came over one night after work.  Since he no longer had to immediately crawl into bed with me at the crack of dawn, he thought we now could have time to sit and talk before heading to the bedroom.  This was unexpected and somewhat disappointing.  I was enjoying my early morning sex sessions.  We fuck, I get up for work, and he leaves.  Not anymore.

i-love-youSo we’re sitting in the living room talking, drinking, smoking, and I realize that he’s a really nice and funny guy, but he’s just not that sharp.  That’s ok.  I’ve dealt with guys like this before.  As long as it’s just about sex, then it will be fine.

It got late and I knew that I needed to get to bed because I had to work the next day.  He led me into the bedroom and we had sex.  Not as many times as the first time, but three times.  During the second time, he pauses mid-stroke and says, “Damn Ginger, I love you girl.”

Excuse me.  What?

He said it again, “I just love my Ginger.”

No! Not again, and not in bed, and especially not during sex.

So that was a week ago.  He was supposed to come over after work last Tuesday night, but he never showed up.  He never even called or text me to let me know he wasn’t coming.  Late the next morning I finally received a text from him.  He said that he had to work over.  I coldly replied, “Ok. A text letting me know would have been nice.”  He said he was sorry and asked how work was, so I just told him it was busy.

At 6:30 pm I received another text from him asking what I was doing.  I didn’t reply.  Then another text asking, “Omg babe r u mad at me?”  I was, a little, but I told him I was at the bar with DC & Bacchus.  He asked if he could see me that night and I told him I was going to crash early.  After several texts back and forth, him asking to see me, me putting him off, he finally asked if I needed a ride home.  Shit.  He got off work early and was headed to the bar.

So after some awkward conversation with Mr. 7am, DC, and Bacchus, we decided to leave.  I think DC & Bacchus liked Mr. 7am…I know DC thinks he’s cute, but they know he’s not exactly a rocket scientist.  However, he’s nice and sweet…and evidently afraid of losing me and a tad jealous.  So we called it a night and went back to my place.

Friday night I blew him off to go hang out with Bacchus and some other friends.  I felt guilty about it Saturday so I told him he could come over that night after work.  It was nice having a little more time to spend with him.  I didn’t have to get up early for work, so we stayed up for a while talking before heading to bed.

And…he said it again.  In the living room.  Sober.  I’m screwed.

Or so I thought.  After mulling it over today I decided that, why shouldn’t I give him a chance?  He’s not a bad guy.  He’s not married, he has a job, he makes me laugh, he’s nice and considerate, and he is excellent in bed.  So I think I’m going to do it.  Because even if once I get to know him better, I decide that he definitely is not the one for me, at least I’ll know I gave him an honest chance.

My main fear, as brought forth in a nightmare I had last night, is that I become pregnant by some freak cruel miracle from God, and the baby is cute, but stupid.  I swear I woke up in a cold sweat and gasping for breath after that one.

So I think I was wrong.  It’s not the guy’s IQ points that drop.  It’s mine.  😉

Happy humping geniuses!

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