Tag Archive | writing

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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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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99 problems but a prick ain’t one

So, I had an interesting night.  It started out that I was just supposed to ride to a neighboring city to hear Teacher‘s band play.  I’m friends with a couple in the band and my friend Bacchus was nice enough to offer me a ride.  Everything was fine until I found out that TB was supposed to be going also.  TB, short for Talker Bitch, is batshit crazy and everything that comes out of her non-stop mouth reeks of bullshit.  I noticed all this when I first met her a week ago, but I was drunk and was trying to have an open mind and make some new friends.  Damn.  That was a terrible idea.

So she rides with us to the bar.  We get there and Teacher’s band hadn’t started playing yet, so he was outside smoking with all of us.  While we were there he made a snide remark about E.B. and asked what time he was coming.  I didn’t take to that very kindly and quipped back that I had a very heavy purse in my hand and his head makes for a very large bald target.  TB quickly got all hyped up and kept telling me that I shouldn’t let him talk to me like that.  First of all, it was a joke.  I knew that.  Given the opportunity and the right mood, I would probably have done the same thing.  No worries.  I was fine.

As the night progressed, and TB drank more beer, she became an attention whore to the tenth degree.  That was fine.  I was sitting at my little table drinking my Diet Coke and minding my phone.  Oh yeah, by the way, I was the designated driver, hence the “no alcohol for me” thing.  This was probably only the second time in my life that I have been assigned “Designated Driver” duties and I took it seriously…well, seriously enough.  I had one drink because someone brought it to me, but that was it.

We did listen to the band for a while once they started.  Teacher was awesome as always.  No surprise there.  Then during the break we went back outside to smoke.  Somehow during the conversation, TB came over to me, grabbed my hair, and pulled.  I almost lost it.  I said, “What the fuck! Not cool.”  Of course she and Bacchus tried to play it off.  She especially.  She said, “I didn’t pull it.  I just did like this.”  Then she proceeded to gently run her fingers though my hair.  That just made my temper flare even more.  Hasn’t this damn girl ever heard that you don’t fuck with a redhead?  She needs to be schooled.  I was tempted, but I didn’t school her.  Oh, my God, I wanted to choke the bitch.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.  I overcame.  I was proud of myself.

Then once back inside, there was this whole other drama with this meth head bitch who looked like Twiggy, if Twiggy was raised from the dead a hundred years from now.  But of course, a lot of the guys thought that she was easy prey and tried their best to get in her pants anyway.  Even though she was high as hell and crazy as hell.

Then there was the narcissistic chauvinistic fat-ass lawyer who thought he was hot shit.  He gave me the creeps big time.  I just backed away slowly and went back into the bar like a good little girl.

If all that wasn’t enough to kill my mood, then the next part completed it.

I walked inside to go to the bathroom.  The bar was closing up and Teacher was taking down the equipment.  He came up to me and said, “Would you mind driving me home?  I’d really appreciate it.”  Without thinking I said of course I would.  First, and I told him this, TB was about to give me an aneurism, and second I didn’t want him driving if he was drunk.  I do still care you know.

Well that didn’t go over too well with TB and Bacchus.  I honestly thought Bacchus would be ok to drive, but I guess I was wrong.  They got pissed.  I freaked out, but I didn’t let them know.  I said I’d see if Teacher would want to just ride with us.  So I went inside to tell him what was going on and he told me not to worry, just to take them home because I had already promised them.  FUCK.  Confession: I almost teared up when he told me to go ahead and take them home.  I’m not sure why.

I drove them back here.  I thought they were going to fuck in the backseat while I was driving the 45 minutes back, but that was mainly because that’s what happened the last time I was the “designated driver.”  I don’t think they did, and when we finally made it back I just wanted out.  We were waiting on her mom to meet us and pick her up, which was taking forever.  I was tempted to get out and just walk home from there, but I knew Bacchus wouldn’t let me do that.

Eventually, like this post, it all ended.  I got home, got some sweet tea, pulled out the laptop, and started writing this.  So there ya go.  Like the song says, ” I got 99 problems but a bitch prick ain’t one.”  She was definitely my top problem for the night.  No more TB for me.

Ahhhhhhhh.  Sweet silence.  It’s just you and me, girls & guys, just like it should be.

Happy (quiet) humping!

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P.S.  Yes, I’m actually writing a P.S.  My 40th birthday is next week.  Expect my 400th post on my 40th birthday to be one you’ll never forget.

Got to give it up

HK BMI know it’s been a long time, but I’m still around.  Since my last post on August 7th I’ve moved into a beautiful little house with Teacher, started a new job, made lots of new friends, and have decided I want to have a baby.  Yep.  You heard me right.  I, Preacher’s Daughter, want a little bundle of piss & shit.  To be more specific, I’m hoping for a little girl I can cover in Hello Kitty from head to tiny little toes.  If it’s a boy though, I promised Teacher that I wouldn’t make him wear Hello Kitty stuff.  Maybe Dear Daniel, or Keroppi, or Badtz Maru, but not Hello Kitty.  I swear.

Now, I know I’ve told you many times that I couldn’t have one, and I thought that was the truth.  Fortunately, I was wrong, probably.  I won’t know for sure until January 2nd, but from what my doctor told me last week, it’s highly possible that I will be able to pop one out with the help some hormone-boosting medicine.  Honestly, I’m still in a state of shock over it all.

I never planned on having one.  In fact, I had resigned myself to being content just being an aunt and a big sister.  This relationship thing that I have with Teacher has changed everything though.  I find myself wanting to settle down, for real this time, and have a long happy life, a real job again, and a family.

Speaking of my relationship with Teacher…it couldn’t be better.  This guy is the real deal.  Hell, he has even bought me jewelry and a Soda Stream.  What more could I ask for? Actually, he’s done a lot more than that.  He’s been there for me in every way possible.  He’s caring, supportive, kind, creative, talented, and loving.  It’s kind of weird being with someone so great.  I’ve been with so many assholes, dumbasses, and crazies, that it’s hard to grasp the concept of being in a healthy wonderful relationship.  I’m holding on for dear life though. 🙂

One thing that has happened over the past few weeks is that I’ve pretty much stopped drinking alcohol completely.  It’s not that I was planning to or wanting to, I just lost the taste for it.  Weird, I know.  No more drinking tequila until I dance on the tables?  What the hell?  I guess it was just time to give it up.  Next to go will be the cigarettes.  Ouch.  That one’s gonna really hurt.

So much has happened in the past four months that I couldn’t possible put it all in one post, so I guess I’ll just have to catch you up as we go along.  If I am a bad girl again and don’t post until after my appointment on January 2nd, please say a little prayer for me and my future little redhead Mozart.  🙂

Oh, and Merry Christmas!

Happy humping! (Let’s make a baby y’all!)

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Mommy Dearest

mommas-familyMy mommy does love me!  She agreed to come with me to hear Teacher after all.  Screw my sister.  At least my aunt and my mom still care about my happiness.

At the restaurant we had some awesome food, and when we got there Teacher and Jacket (his friend & singing partner) were ready to go on stage.  I think as soon as they started my mom was impressed. It wasn’t until later though that she leaned over and told me, “I’m feeling it.”  I asked, “Feeling what?”  She simply said, “Feeling it.”  LOL I love my mom.  I know that was her way of saying that she approves of Teacher.

Then he solidified her approval. He sang the following song in a perfectly bluesy slightly churchy style. Mom was hooked.  She even leaned over and asked me, “What did you tell him?”  Evidently she thought that I had said something to Teacher when he and I were outback taking a smoke break. 😉

Just so you know, I rarely introduce men to my family, especially to my parents.  Of the few that I have introduced to them, there was only one who they actually liked, and we all know how that turned out.  So I really don’t hold much faith in their opinions on who I date.  In this case however, since it was only my mother, and not my father or sister giving their approval, I do hold a lot of faith in her opinion.  Not that it would stop me from seeing Teacher if she hadn’t of approved, but it sure doesn’t hurt to know that he gets momma’s stamp of approval.

While we were enjoying our dinner, my mom did mention that the reason my sister was acting like a spoiled brat was because she didn’t want me to get hurt again.  Personally I think that’s just some bullshit line she fed them to make herself out to be the caring supportive sister.  If she cares so much why doesn’t she act like it and instead of being a bitch, just meet him first and then tell me what she thinks of him.  She hasn’t even given him a chance.  No, she just wants my mom and aunt to think she’s the level-headed one who can do no wrong.

They aren’t as naïve as she thinks.  They know that even though I’ve made mistakes, I am almost a decade older than she is and I’ve had a lot more time to live my life, albeit in a more adventurous way.  I live and love passionately, and I’m not going to apologize to anyone for that.  I’m certainly not going to regret any decisions that I’ve made that have helped lead me to Teacher.

I worked it out perfectly so that they could leave early and I’d stay and ride with Teacher. As mom and my aunt left, my mom waved goodbye to Teacher.  OMG.  She approves! Hallelujah, praise Jeebus, and thank the Lawd Almighty!  Now let’s go to church!  Preach it Al!

Happy humping & praise the Lawd y’all!

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