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Living the dream

miss martianSo I’ve been living the dream, well, my version of the dream, for the past couple of weeks.  So far I adore Buck aka Prince Charming more than I ever thought I would.  He is totally and completely awesome.  He was the Superboy to my Miss Martian for Halloween.  He has been wonderful in every way possible.  In fear of sounding like a squishy mushy lovey dovey mess I’m going to refrain from continuing.  At the very least I wanted all of you to know that I’m exquisitely unconditionally happy.  Yes, I’m using entirely too many adverbs.

So there it is.  The Preacher’s Daughter, Ginger Channing, me (the real me), is very happy right now.  I say right now because who knows what will happen next, except maybe my book will finally get finished, but even then, I will probably, most likely, still be superbly happy.

No.  Nothing is perfect.  However, life is full of imperfections.  Wonderful imperfections.  That is what makes life beautiful and perfect without being perfectly perfect.

Confused yet?  So am I.  But it’s ok.  It’s love.  Love is ok and not subject to conventional thinking or my parents’ version of what love is.  It’s what good country songs are made of and what my life has become.  Weird huh?

I told DC last Friday night that I was done.  By done I meant that I was done dating, done looking for “the one”, done with everything relating to relationships.  I’m good.  I’m good when it comes to men and life and finding my happy ending.  I’ve found my Prince Charming, literally. 😉

Peace, love, & happiness.

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Peace, Love and Happiness

One night, while at the local watering hole with DC, one of her old high school friends  showed up.  She sat down with us and we started talking.  She told us about her kids, grand-kids, and all that good Southern small talk shit.  Then once we moved on to the topic of relationships, she dropped a bomb on us.  She has not had sex in ten, ten, years.  Oh my God.  I almost spit out my beer.

DC was also shocked, but she said that she had also gone years without before.  DC then noticed that I had turned pale and stopped breathing at the thought of not having sex for TEN years.  DC then asked me, “Well Ginger, what’s the longest you’ve ever gone?”  My answer, “six months.  Those were six of the longest months of my life.  DC then proceeded to laugh and snort, spitting out her Scotch, then saying, “That’s all? Six months?!”

So last week I went 4 days without sex.  Before that I went another four days without sex.  As of tomorrow I will have gone another four days.  If I can make it past day four I will have accomplished a tiny milestone towards my new goal.  Celibacy for one *cough* year.  I want to cry just typing that, and yes, I hang my head in shame.

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Shame, not from being embarrassed that I willfully choosing to become celibate, or that I probably won’t make it even three months, but that it’s come to this.  That I actually need to quit having sex cold-turkey because I have a serious problem.  You may think I’m just trying to be funny, but I’m not.  There are so many things that I’ve done that I couldn’t even write about on this blog because, even though this is anonymous, I was still so damn ashamed of myself that I couldn’t even to write about the awful things I had done.

So I’ve decided that since I’ve left so much out of my blog because I wasn’t proud of doing those things, I’m going to write about them while I’m suffering through my year of celibacy.  That way, I write more, I purge my sins, and you don’t get left out of the confessional loop any longer.

Call it a cleansing process.  I’m already about to have a panic attack just writing about it, and it hasn’t even been four days yet.  I plan to do anything necessary to stay celibate.  No more hanging out at the bar, getting drunk, flirting with strange men.  No more online dating websites.  Most of all, no more ex-lovers, ex-husbands, and ex-boyfriends tempting me by waving their cocks in my face.  No more dick-blindness.  SLUTS FOR A CURE.  So, there’s my half-assed plan on remaining celibate for ONE YEAR in search of inner-peace, self-love, and authentic happiness.

Peace, love, & happiness.

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Last Friday Night

Pop-music-alcoholSome nights just aren’t meant to go as planned.

Friday night was supposed to be a fun night out with friends.  It turned into one of the worst nights I’ve had in a long time.  It’s partially my fault.  I just don’t know when to say when, and I’m not just talking about alcohol.

It started out fine.  DC and I went to another local bar where Teacher was playing.  When we arrived there was a large table full of friends having dinner.  I knew most of them.  They’re a great group of people and they invited DC and I to join them.  Not long after we sat down, more friends showed up and joined us.  There were probably twenty of us in total.  We ate, drank, laughed, and enjoyed Teacher’s music.

One of the other people that showed up was Bacchus.  He brought a date and they joined us at the big table.  He and I had talked a few nights earlier about what might happen if I went Friday night and Viking was there, then if Mr. 7am showed up, then Paul Bunyan, and of course Teacher would be there.  It could potentially be one big cluster fuck.  Then Bacchus said “and then if you left with me.”  I thought it was funny and that the cherry on top would be me going home completely alone.  Turns out I wasn’t so wrong about that part.  More on that in a minute.

A little while later Teacher’s girlfriend, who I still think is the most bland person ever, showed up with her guy friend that was with her last time we were there.  She was sitting directly behind me at one of the pub tables, our backs to each other.  We never speak or even really make eye contact which is fine with me.  They didn’t stay long.

When DC and I went out to smoke the Viking showed up.  He said hello and went on inside.  The Viking is a guy who I’ve met a few times.  He’s also a friend of Teacher’s.  I saw him at another bar a few weeks ago when I was out with Bacchus.  We talked and had a good time.  Since the Viking and I were already friends on Facebook, I sent him a message the next day.  I told him it was good to see him and that maybe we could hang out sometime.  He agreed and said he’d let me know when he got back to town.  He works out of state.  Part of the reason I went Friday night was because I knew the Viking was going to be there.  I wanted the chance to talk to him more and maybe see if he was interested in hanging out more.

I had talked to Mr. 7am again on Wednesday, and he said he wanted to hang out this weekend so I told him he could just pick me up from the bar when he got off work.  I know I said I was going to stop seeing him, but I figured I’d give him one last chance.

He text me a little after 9:00 pm and said that he had to go home after work because he was going to get up early and cut grass before going back to work the next afternoon.  I was angry and hurt and embarrassed because I had let him do that to me yet again.  I told DC and she said I probably should give up on him because something just isn’t right with him.  I know she’s right and that’s what I should do.

tumblr_m7lajcEDVo1qchllgo1_500In my anger, I decided it was time to move on, so I changed my focus toward other pursuits.  I was no longer dickmatized and since Mr. 7am was no longer coming to the bar, I decided to try to talk to the Viking a little.  A bunch of us were outside smoking and talking and Viking sat down beside me.  We talked a little, mostly joking around and enjoying the crazy conversation that his friend and an old drunk man were having.  Things didn’t really seem to be going anywhere with him, so again, I decided to move on.

I had noticed the bar manager the few times that I’ve been to that bar, and I decided maybe I should give him a shot, just for kicks.  He did remember my name, even though I couldn’t remember his, but then again, most people find it easy to remember my name.  However, I wasn’t really in the mood to put any effort into him and quickly let that one go too.

The bar was getting ready to close so after one last beer I followed Bacchus and some others back to the room that he had gotten for the night.  That’s when the party really got going.  There were people in the room, outside the room, just everywhere.  I managed to have a really good time even though I wasn’t really on the prowl anymore at that point.  I was just having fun hanging out with everyone.

It did strike me a bit odd though that the Viking hooked up with the falling-down-drunk girl from a few weeks ago.  She seems nice, but evidently her standards are pretty low, as are his.  I was glad to have dodged that bullet once I saw how disturbing the “hook-up” looks from the outside.  They got caught making out in the back of a vehicle and then shortly after they left together.

tgif8So the numbers were falling but there was still a good crowd there hanging out.  I did manage to get into a conversation with the bar manager, and he seemed nice, but he also seemed to be stuck on the tall blonde bartender.  So again, I moved on.

Finally, we were down to the basics.  Just me, Bacchus, and Mr. & Mrs. Right.  They are friends that I met through Teacher and I adore both of them.  Eventually Mrs. Right decided it was time to go to sleep so she passed out on one of the beds in the room.  I was outside the room sitting on the tailgate of Mr. Right’s truck talking to him and some old drunk guy who disappeared at some point leaving Mr. Right and me to talk.

CqFOqHDHxZ8lAs we were sitting on the tailgate talking, I noticed that the curtain in the room was open about a foot.  Then I noticed the lights lower.  See, I forgot to tell you that Bacchus’ date had also passed out, on the other bed in the room.  She had been there for a few hours and was out cold.  While I was trying to be a good friend to Mr. Right and give him some relationship advice (I know I should not be giving relationship advice, so no comments on that one please) I saw something through the window that I wish I had never seen.

I was trying really hard to pay attention to Mr. Right talking to me, but it was very difficult considering I was watching Bacchus have sex with his date, with Mrs. Right asleep in the next bed less than four feet away, and I just couldn’t concentrate.  It was an odd mixture of shock, disgust, anger, and yet I couldn’t stop looking.  I was just praying that his date was actually conscious during it.  Otherwise, that would be pretty shitty of him.

So, there I was panicked and frozen sitting on the tailgate of a truck in a hotel parking lot watching my friend fuck some drunk woman (who told DC & I at dinner that she was married) while trying to give heartfelt advice to Mr. Right.  What a fucked up night it was.  It still makes my head spin just thinking about it.

To be true to the “confession” part of my blog, I have tried to be more than friends with Bacchus a couple of times, but only because he was flirting with me just as much as I was flirting with him.  He even came right out and told me one night that I’d have to make the first move.  I did and that turned out terrible.  He got scared and ran.  So that’s fine.  I think he makes a better friend anyway.

Wonderwoman_dodging_bullets_by_TopcowImage2dFI consider myself to be a good person.  Yes, I do bad things sometimes, but not terribly bad.  In general I’m a caring, compassionate, loving, smart, friendly person who tries to give people the benefit of the doubt.  So why is it that men keep choosing these skanks, plain janes, and old drunk whores over me?  Not that I really wanted any of those guys, but (and this is the narcissist in me coming out again) why would they not even try….or did they try and I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to take notice?  Either way, I’m so happy that I went home alone Friday night (the only part of the “plan” that actually went as planned).  I may not have felt that way when I first got home, but after a day or two of meditation and writing I realized where I stand with people and how many bullets I’d probably dodged.  So…yay me!

Happy humping & keep your options open, but watch out for those stray bullets!

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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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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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