Tuesday, June 30, 2009

A Promise of an Orgy

It's been so long since hubby and I engaged in some sexual overload parties. I haven't played alone much either. It's just a busy time right now. So when my husband told me we were going to a meet-and-greet swinger party, I panicked. I felt like a newbie again. I freaked out. I had flashbacks from the last orgy we attended. It was not pretty. I will tell you about it in a separate time. I guess even after all these months, the horror still lives in me. Back to the present, I tried to imagine the best instead of the worst. I was hopeful we would at least meet even one couple or even one single guy worth our time.

So fast forward, we're at the door of some sex club in downtown Seattle. The greeter is this woman weighing close to 200 pounds with boobs popping out of her top. I looked to my left and I saw a bunch of people at their 40's and older and people who are tipping the weighing scale at a much higher number. I'm 28, 5'5 1/2 inches tall and weigh 118 pounds so I felt slightly uncomfortable. My husband and I found a spot on the couch next a couple who are older than my parents. Then a guy in his 60's sitting on a wheelchair extended his hand and complimented my very hot shoes. Yeah right. My husband talked me into wearing a halter dress that stopped mid thigh. I was showing a lot of skin. Being around all those older people sure made me feel naked... in a bad way.

We all went upstairs for an orientation. The setup was quite nice and cozy IF they were all hot young people. There were several beds right next to each other separated only by see-through fabric. There were outlets for your toys if you needed them. Talk about toys, I was introduced to my very first Symbian. I didn't know what it is so the Symbian master gave me a little demo. Supposedly, this is the God of all dildos. Even if you don't respond well to vibrators, this is guaranteed to leave an impression on you. It looked powerful and it scared me. haha! Ok, not scared, nervous fits better. Why? It could malfunction or it will send me to orbit and back and having sex with a real penis will never cut it for me anymore.

So the promise of an orgy remained a promise. My husband and I had an agreement that we will never take one for the team ever again. We both did and some point in the past and we realized it's not worth it. So after the orientation, we politely left. There were a lot of disappointed looks casted our way but we had to save our sanity. Maybe next time I will have a real orgy story to tell you. For now, that's all folks.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Build Your Own Lover

I am a hopeless romantic. Always have been and always will be. I listen to Barry Manilow, Air Supply among many other sappy love song artists. I was listening to Frank Sinatra's Fly Me to the Moon one day and seamlessly started daydreaming. I was slow dancing with my dream man under the moonlight. It was then when I thought how incredible it would be if you can build your own dream man or woman like you would a teddy bear. If I had the technology, I'd be filthy rich beyond belief. What about my husband you ask? He's human, he makes mistakes and rubs me the wrong way once in a while. I'm guilty of those very same things. I'm talking about the perfect man here.

So humor me and let's pretend I have the capability. What would Mr. Perfect, man of my dreams be like? :) For starters, let's assemble the way he would look. He is 6'4" tall white, Brasillian or Latin man. He's not too muscular but he is lean. He has dark hair paired with long lashes and the most piercing blue eyes you have ever seen. He has a masculine face but has softness in it's feature. I prefer a clean shaven face but if he can pull off a little scruff then that's fine by me. He has no piercings nor tattoos, just naked as the day he was born. When he smiles, you can hear the angels singing in the background in celebration of his beautiful, straight white teeth. He has very strong shoulders and arms, the kind that enables him to pick me up and bring me to ecstacy up against a wall. I like big, manly hands as well to better hold mine when we're walking or to explore every inch of my body with. His legs are just as strong as the rest of him so can he support me better when we're having crazy sex. Last but not least of course is his man meat. I'd like it to be above average in size and length please. No horses please, I wouldn't know where to stick it if it's too big. I don't want to suffocate either when I'm enjoying it in my mouth. Afterall, skills has a lot more to offer than size. Trust me, I know.

Now that we got that part out of the way, let's complete the rest of my man. He brings me flowers just because he feels so lucky to be with me. Ok, this part might be farther from the truth than the physical portion of my dream man but just bear with me. He loves the same music I do. We never have to argue which station to listen to. He lives to make me happy and please me and never gets tired of doing so. He has a life of his own but never loses sight of where I fit in it. I never feel neglected or last on his list. He would cancel anything to accommodate my needs. Man! I am asking for a lot here. :) He has such a calming and soothing voice that I can listen to him talk forever. He enjoys talking about anything under the sun and is genuinely interested in what I have to say. He likes to hold me whenever he can. He's very affectionate in a romantic kind of way but can also be my naughty boy when I need him to be. He opens doors for me and treats me with respect for the most part except when he teases me once in a while. He has a sense of humor for sure and he makes me laugh until my tummy hurts. He can cook and he takes care of me. He gives me foot rubs and massages on demand and does so gladly. Touching me and making me smile is enough reward for him. Dang! where can I find this man? He also is a family man and loves my kids. He's a little boy in a grown man's body. Mr. Perfect is a very good provider, we never have to worry about our finances. Here it is ladies, his bedroom power. Mr. Perfect can love you long time. :) He's a sex machine. He's very intuitive with your body language. You don't need to give him directions, he just knows which buttons to push to bring you to cloud 9. He kisses oh so gently one moment and kisses with passion the next. His lips doesn't leave any part of you undiscovered. He can be so sweet and so gentle but can also yank your hair, spank your ass and fuck you from behind when you want him to. *sigh*

Well, there you have it, a little glimpse of my dream man. I'd be very surprised if there's a man out there who fit the profile from start to finish. All I know is I have a man at home and he may not be perfect but he loves me. He may not love me exactly the way I want him to but he is loving me the best way he knows how. Like the saying goes, "It's not about having what you want but wanting what you have".

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Jon and Kate Plus 8

I don’t have much time to watch TV but once in a great while, I indulge myself with the useless crap it has to offer. Being a mother myself, I found the idea of this show very intriguing. I’m not an avid fan and have probably only seen it a total of 10 times or maybe even less.

Recently, Jon and Kate’s faces have been on tabloid and magazine covers. When I’m doing my grocery shopping, I see those as I wait in line for the cashier. I’m not really up to speed with what’s going on between them, I just skim through the headlines. There was the issue where they both denied the divorce and the affairs. Then next thing I hear, they are in the process of a divorce. What?! I thought they said…

The reason I care at all about this is I share something in common with them. I have children too. The mention of the word divorce somehow always makes me sad inside even if I don’t know the people involved. Weird thing is that I’m not against it either. I completely understand why some people resort to it. It’s especially true when the relationship they’re in becomes toxic. I don’t believe that the vow you took in marriage includes being abused. “For better or for worse,” sure, but that’s with the understanding that it’s not your significant other making things worse for you. So yes, I understand divorce.

Understanding alone doesn’t necessarily protect me from feeling bad nonetheless. I would try everything in my power to keep my marriage intact for the sake of my children. I’m not one to promote loveless marriage either but the children are one of my incentives in making it work. My husband is a product of a divorce and even if he was only two when it happened, he has a very low opinion on the matter. You’d think that because he was too young to remember life before the divorce that he wouldn’t know the difference but you’d be wrong. He had to go through all the horror of his mom’s boyfriends, then stepmothers and stepdads. Both his parents tried the marriage thing 5 times each but none of them worked. I know, it’s sad. I’m sure it’s no picnic for his parents either but my husband suffered through all the shuffling back and forth between his parents and then grandparents. Now, imagine eight kids having to go through this. You get the picture.

Now, I know that there are always two sides of everything. There are people out there who are lucky not to feel what my husband feels. I know someone who’s quite happy with being shuffled back and forth. He currently has a great relationship with both his parents and that’s all he ever knew. He was too young to remember what it was like to have them both under the same roof. I just hope that I never have to find out which side my kids will fall under.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Hello Kitty Vibrator?!

Na-ah! What has this world come to? I couldn't believe my eyes when I came across someone's blog mentioning this particular vibrator. Un-fucking-believable! Why am I making such a big deal out of it? Because it just sounds all wrong, that's why. I'm not a prude, I'm a swinger for crying out loud but hello kitty vibrator? Really?! I guess when it comes to what turns people on, there's just no limit to the imagination.

When you say Hello Kitty, I think of innocent years. A time when I had no worries in the world and all I'm concerned with is playing, eating and sleeping. Yes, childhood. So the concept of our subject here is much like...I can't event think of anything to compare it to. It's disturbing to say the least that someone enjoys shoving that thing in their vajayjay and actually get satisfaction out of it. I can picture a cucumber or a banana in place of a vibrator but not something that reminds me of my carefree days.

Diversity manifests itself in so many ways, one of which is what people consider erotic. I wonder if that much diversity really does make the world go around. I don't judge, it's just not for me.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Presence or Absence?

If you have read my previous posts, you know that there is one person who I miss quite a bit lately. I guess you can call him the flavor of the I Miss You month. If I'm so fortunate, it would be someone new next month. Why, you ask? Because that means I'm finally over missing this one guy. *sigh*

So here's the question for today. Which one is better, somebody's presence or somebody's absence? We are of course talking about it in relation to missing someone. For weeks, I lost count, this man hasn't kept in touch with me. He didn't even give me a pity-text. Nada, zip! I finally talked myself into believing that he has moved on and is now in a better place, a place where I'm not needed. Once in a while, I would still think about him and miss him but I was doing better everyday.

Then one day, out of the blue, I get a text message from him. He sounded like he just picked up where we left off. So casually, so matter-of-factly. I'll admit, my heart felt like it was going to burst with the overwhelming happiness the message brought me. I was immediately thinking happy thoughts, thoughts of seeing him again very soon. Then the torturous cycle began again. I'd wait for his messages and when he doesn't reply, it feels like a little pinch in my heart. Then I started wondering why he hasn't asked me out yet and assume that he's made plans with other girls. The torture grows. Until of course I catch myself doing so and mentally smack myself upside the head.

So I'm left wondering if his absence is better than his half-ass presence.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Me, Myself and I

There is something to be said about doing things for yourself than for others. I have always always been a people-pleaser type of a gal and it's not always a good thing. I guess growing up always wanting my parents to be proud of me had a bit to do with that. It's good when it inspires and drives you to succeed but it's a double-edged sword.

What happened this afternoon is a picture of the other edge. My husband had mentioned how he wished our house was in a more orderly fashion. We had visited his bachelor friend who kept his house immaculate. Not only does he have someone come in and clean his house for him, he doesn't have children either. He's also very deligent when it comes to picking up after himself. How can one compete with that? I used to keep our house as clean and organized as I can but I just didn't have the time nor energy to keep it up anymore. It was either that or my sanity and I chose the latter. Now, it's not so ordelry but it's not disgusting either. I adapted to the saying, "If you can't beat them, join them."

I never thought an immaculate house meant that much to my husband because I pick up after him most of the time. Clutter never seemed to bother him in the past. It would bug me first before it ever gets in his nerves. Whatever the real reason for his sudden change of heart is not the topic today. It's how I foolishly thought I can make him happy by doing something about the clutter. Provided, I didn't get the whole house done but I got a good chunk of it done. Enough for him to notice and appreciate. Unfortunately, the reaction I got was not the one I anticipated. It didn't make that much difference and for that I was sad and disappointed. It was then that I realized I did it for the wrong reason. I've been meaning to clean the house anyway but I should have done it for me, in my own pace and for my own satisfaction and not his. The trouble with doing it for someone else is that you leave your heart open for crushing. If you're doing it for you, you'd be happy with the result no matter how small it is.

This doesn't just apply to this one aspect of life. This applies to almost everything. It could be writing, cooking or whatever the case maybe. I used to run into the same problem with cooking. I thought for a long time that cooking was just not for me because the people I was trying to impress weren't happy with it. When I started cooking for myself, I was a more forgiving critic and I learned from my mistakes instead of run away from them. What I'm hoping you take away from this is that it's better to always start with yourself. If you're happy with your creation then it won't matter much what others have to say. Oddly enough, it's much like the art of loving. You have to love yourself first before you can love others.

Monday, June 8, 2009

The Art of People Watching

I had the pleasure of enjoying a whole day any way I wanted. My first thoughts were running errands. My muse suggested a “me” day. Who am I to argue with my muse? First stop, Coffee Shop. Next stop, Hair Salon. Then someone suggested Alki Café for lunch. I would normally shy away from Alki Beach because finding a parking space is close to impossible. But, it was me day and I was in no rush so I went and what do you know? I found parking right away. As I waited for my chicken and avocado with red pepper spread sandwich, with chowder on the side, I let a sigh of relief go while I admired the beach and sun’s reflection on the water. Before I knew it, the people watching began.

First victims, I mean, subject of interest. *smiles* Four mothers pushing baby carriages. They all looked like they’re hopeful to get back in shape. I assume they’re all housewives because it’s once o’clock on a Monday morning and they’re out on a walk at the beach unless of course they all had the day off. I wondered if they secretly disliked one another because one has a cuter baby or one lost weight faster or even because they all couldn’t agree which is better, breastfeeding or bottle feeding. One mom must make the three moms feel inadequate. You know the type, the know-it-all super mom.

Then there was the short but buffed guy with a dog and a tight T-shirt on. He’s clearly looking for girls. I can tell by the way he’s standing there, chest all out. I could almost see him beating on it Tarzan-like and yelling, “I am man, hear me roar!” Of course if that doesn’t catch the ladies’ attention, the puppy dog eyes must.

Next is an elderly couple holding hands. Aaaaaw! How sweet! I can say they just met from one of those online dating sites and both have been married multiple times and divorced but I’ll opt for the more romantic version. They’re soul mates and have lived a full happy life together. Their children are all grown and their grandchildren surround them every weekend during their family dinner. He has always taken care of her, loved her and cherished her just like he promised on their wedding day. She is ever grateful for being so lucky to have found such a man and loves him with every beat of her heart. They may appear old but their love keeps them young.

There’s also a mother of two toddlers, one of which was screaming and trying to escape from her embrace. The child’s ear-piercing squeal was to say the least, irritating but she didn’t loose her temper. It was as if she rejoiced in her child’s every squeal for it meant life. There’s a picture of a mother fulfilled and one who understands a miracle of life.

You also have the dad walking alongside of his son on his bike. This one screams part-time dad who’s single and ready to mingle. He probably thought this is a good choice of place to do his fatherly duties because he can check out the girls in their bikinis at the same time.

Then you have this guy who’s walking a few feet in front of his wife and daughter. He looks like he wants to run away very fast and escape this hole he’s gotten himself into. His wife has traces left of being a hottie before she had the unplanned pregnancy. She’s trying to keep her looks as if it’s the only thing that would make him stay but she’s losing hope fast because she knows it’ll only be a matter of time. His mind is already long gone, far, far away from her.

Oh, the untold stories you see from watching people closely. I wonder what they think of me sitting all alone in a café reading my book. I doubt they can tell how much fun I’ve had and plan to have today. I also wonder if any of my conclusions are right about those people. I guess we’ll never know, it was sure interesting though.

Friday, June 5, 2009

You Say I’m a Slut Like it’s a Bad Thing

Yes, I have been called the S-word once. (emphasis on once) I may have deserved it but then again maybe not. That’s not what this is all about. That experience however, made the word slut have a different ring to it since then. It used to have a playful, positive meaning to me.

Merriam-Webster defines slut as a promiscuous woman; especially: prostitute. I resent the latter. I have nothing against prostitutes. I’m sure they all have their reasons. We all choose what we want to be and they chose. I am not about to judge them and what they do for a living. I resent it because I don’t get paid. Haha! Now, promiscuous is easier to swallow for me. Again, it’s a choice, a choice to not be restricted to one sexual partner. As long as my husband is fine with it, I don’t see anything wrong with it. I’m not hurting anyone. Then again, you can argue that I am bound to hurt someone’s feelings. It might not be my husband’s but it could be the other guy’s or worse, my own. Oh well, we all have choices.

Meaning aside, it’s also a double standard. Christina Aguilera’s song Can’t Hold Us Down sums up my feelings about the issue real well.

The guy gets all the glory the more he can score
While the girl can do the same and yet you call her a whore

I don’t understand why its okay
The guy can get away with it & the girl gets named

If the guy have three girls then he’s the man
He can either give us some head, sex her raw
If the girl does the same, then she’s a whore

The depressing thing is that such view not only comes from men but women too. In a society where we’re told how women should behave, it’s sad that some of these women don’t think for themselves and just want to go with the flow. It’s always harder to go against the grain. I guess if you can’t stand up for yourself, the least you could do is not judge others who can. They should be an inspiration, not outcasts.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

The T-shirt has Lost its Smell of You

You have some things in common with my husband. You like beer and you like T-shirts with funny or sarcastic words on it. The night you finally met my husband, the two of you decided to wear one of those T-shirts. I, of course had one that says Drama Queen but I didn’t think that was very attractive so I didn’t wear it. Unbeknownst to me, you wanted to give me one of yours that has supposedly gotten too small. It says, “Friends with Privileges”, how appropriate.

Since then, my privileges with you have diminished way more than I’ve expected. All I have left now is that T-shirt. I would hold it close and be transported to our happy, euphoric times together. Back when you would kiss me on my head while I snuggle up to you. Back when I would feel so safe in your arms. Back when you would caress every inch of my skin and make all my troubles melt away. Back when you would kiss me so passionately that it feels like we’re the only two people left in this world.

I didn’t want to wear the T-shirt at first because I didn’t want to wash it and risk losing its smell of you, the smell that was the “ON” button for all those wonderful memories. One night though, I missed you so much that wearing it was the only comfort I could have. It eventually lost its smell of you.

Losing that, I can’t decide if it’s a curse or a blessing. Curse, because I’m afraid that I might forget us and lose you forever. And blessing because along the happy memories of the past comes the emptiness of the present without you. Without your comforting scent haunting me, I won’t be reminded of how much I miss you.

Sunny Seattle

Those two words should never even be seen together. Contrary to what you see in movies or postcards, Seattle doesn't rain all that much but it's not sunny either. Most of the time, it's gloomy and grey. "Blah" is the word I describe it.

Today however, it's hands-down gorgeous! Summer is finally here. I wouldn't have believed it myself with the snow and hail we had in early
May. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to step out of the house without a thick jacket, a hood, a hat, gloves, umbrella and a scarf. I feel so light. :) I almost feel naked. On the naked subject, I actually run around with nothing but my thong on in the house. Yup! It's that warm right now. It got up to 89 degrees yesterday or was it more?!

I am loving this weather!!! Thank goodness I have gotten rid of my baby-fat. :)

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

I told myself not to look at the comments on The Rest Is Still Unwritten about Prop 8 post anymore but I just can’t help it. I’m a glutton for punishment I guess. Every time I go back, I read a comment or two which makes me content and happy but it never fails, an opposing opinion always follows.

I don’t have a close friend or a relative who’s gay. As I mentioned in my comments on that post, I was born and raised a Catholic. I went to Catholic school and had to pray before the day starts, before and after class and had first Friday confessions. I was exposed to “God”.

What infuriates me to no end to the point of feeling like I have just been punched in the gut is how people use God to serve their own purpose. In this case, to deny the gay population to marry the ones they love. It sickens me that some people can so confidently declare what’s right and wrong and then drag God into it as if the mere mention of his name is going to make everything final. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in God. What I don’t believe in is that a God so loving would label being gay as wrong. God is so forgiving that he can overlook anything you have done that’s terrible. How can the same God be opposed to one’s happiness through commitment in marriage?

These people who are so righteous and mighty should really get off their high horses. It makes me laugh in a weird way when they talk as if God himself have spoken to them about the rules of being right and wrong. One person actually admitted to talking to a prophet and supposedly, God told the prophet that homosexuality is wrong. OMFG! Can you believe this person? Do they even hear themselves talk? I believe in God and God alone. I don’t think we need middle MEN. What makes you so sure that the so-called prophet is telling you the truth? Do you have proof? How can anyone blindly believe and follow someone just because they said so? I wish people who have the gifts of power such as the “prophets” use that gift in a positive way instead of hurting people just because they can. One comment said that whole gay marriage makes the society a harder place for children to thrive in. BS! People who think like this are one of the reasons it’s been difficult and will continue to be a challenge to live in this society we’re in because they judge.

There’s so much sadness in this world and it pains me that equality is such a difficult thing to achieve… even in America.

To Dye or Not to Dye

Ok, for years I have highlighted my hair mostly during the summer. When I got pregnant again, I stopped and grew my natural hair free from any chemicals. My husband always loved my natural silky black hair. He said so on multiple ocassions while I had my highlights on. For about two years, I was quite happy with it.

But now it’s summer again and the idea of highlights is becoming more and more tempting. Jessica Alba—now that’s a whole lot of woman! ; ) Why bring her up? When I first laid eyes on her, she had jet black hair when she was doing Dark Angel or something like that. I never liked her then. I didn’t like the show and I didn’t like her character. I can’t remember the first movie I started liking her in. I do know that all the other movies I’ve seen her in, she had some or a lot of color on her hair.

It was then that I realized maybe that was the swinging vote I needed to finally jump into the “highlighting” wagon. Personally, I’ve always thought that a little splash of color on my hair made me look more approachable. The dark hair always looked very serious on me. However, I will lose the natural shine for sure as my husband had pointed out in the past. I guess it’s time for me to do what makes me feel good though. I kind of stayed with the natural color to please hubby too. It’s been two years, now it’s my turn. Hair Salon, here I come!

Monday, June 1, 2009

Missing You

Here it is again, the feeling of missing someone. I really have started to hate it. Hate is a strong word I know but I don’t like the feeling of missing someone anymore. The weight it has on my chest is almost unbearable, like a baby sitting on you while you’re your back. It’s not too painful, yet it’s very uncomfortable. *sigh*

Sara Bareilles described what I’m going through concisely in a song. “And I miss you, like you were mine”. He’s not mine, yet I ache for his presence as if he is. I’m posting here anonymously so I would be able to pour my heart out without fear of anything. Yet, I feel hesitant to do so right now. I don’t want to admit that I like him that much. I might have liked him more that I should or wanted. I never realized it of course until he wasn’t so available to me anymore. I thought I had it under control. Or do I just feel this way because I feel I can’t have him anymore.

I finally spent some quality time with a new guy last Saturday and I actually had a lot of fun and he made me feel really good inside. Then what am I complaining about then, right? I wasn’t missing Bryan anymore until this morning. Until I remembered how smoothly everything went with him and how choppy it seemed with the new guy. The new guy learned quickly and found ways to finally satisfy me but it took work. With Bryan, everything was effortless. So then began the annoying feeling of missing him and aching for him.

I read an article once about how NOT to miss someone anymore. We apparently put than certain someone up on a pedestal when we miss them. We only remember the good things about them for some reason thus fueling the empty feeling of not having them around. When you think about it, they weren’t really all that perfect. My first time with Bryan didn’t go all that smoothly. He is however a very fast learner and very intuitive with my needs and how my body reacts so in no time, he had my body in complete control. He touches me and it’s instant heaven. I guess I just have to give the new guy a chance.