The Hours

I sat and watched this movie yesterday, and thus I shall give my personal review....If you have seen the film, or haven't seen it...it really doesn't matter. First off, Merly Streep is hot. I love the beauty that she radiates so effortlessly. Julianne Moore is also hot, but I have a thing for redheads....(S- would you like to lick this off of me???) Kidman is an amazing actress, but she is so bland to me in regards to personality...she never really makes an impression as to who she might be.

So, the female kissing is always good...but that isn't what yanked at my heart as I sat in a PMS-induced daze, bawling my eyes out and gorging on chocolates next to a box of Puff Plus with lotion. What made this film such a resounding chick flick had nothing to do with the story itself. It clearly demonstated the sadness of these women. And, I realized that as men complain that we are such emotional creatures by our very nature, and we are often "out of control", they may have a point. We are sad. We are all sad. It's part of our very consitution. (Perhaps the resiliance gene is carried on the X chromosome.) Our despair makes us strong, and beautiful. "How 'bout unabashadly bawling your eyes out?" When I quote this, do you think of a woman or a man? I'll put my money on the bleeding chick.

As woman, we have a great deal to cry about- Losing our virginity is painful physically, if not emotionally as well. Guys- did that first erection cause you pain? Heh. We make less money. We work all day and all night. We give our very lives and our most beautiful years to our partners and children. When our friends fall, we pick up the pieces. We bury our children. We gather rally around those that have earned our respect, and will bleed ourselves dry in order to comfort these souls. If you are a man, and your buddy loses his job, you'll buy him a round of beer and commiserate. If you are a woman and your girlfriend loses her job, you'll bring her some flowers, drink a bottle of wine and commiserate, look in the paper for other oppertunities she may have missed, network, and call her every day to make sure she's not bummed out, reminding her that they never aprreciated her talents and skills anyway.

We are abandoned, and juggle three lives just so our children may go on to a better future. We have waited tables to avoid starvation, we have gone back to school in our forties because there was no other way. We launder, and mend, and cook, and clean, and nurse, and garden, and shop. We press on, and not neccesarily because we believe we will prevail. We have been beaten, raped, scarred, cut, burned.... We pursue a career in a male-dominated field, only to be taken less seriously when we may have worked twice as hard to get there. When a man gets a raise, has he "slept his way to the top"? We love with reckless passion only to discover we were not loved in return. We feel such empathy for those around us that their bad day brings us to tears. We give, and give, and give....we got knocked down at every turn....and we continue the cycle...

And after a lifetime of this- we outlive our men. How do we do that? Women are the toughest creatures on the planet.

Whadda Man, Whadda Mighty Good Man!!!!

So, for my blog today, I could rant about my employment maze of dead-ends, or my surprising sluggishness....I could bitch about my emotionally unavailable father, my out-of-control alcoholic brother, and my mother, the resiliant doormat. I could rag on about my domestic duties as an unemployed goddess that happily starches the shirts of Mr. MagicStik, or I could even go on about my latest dream about painting muttonchops on all of my former flames. Would that be fun? Nah...let's talk about sex.

My love did the most amazing theatrical and acrobatic thing last night....loving his goddess until we collapse out of breath and in a state of blissful exhaustion. My god- no one has ever done such a thing, although a few have tried. Of course, it's not fair to compare and contrast my current mattress tumblings with those of SJ and Tripod. It's not fair, but we all do it. As for the actual event that took place, it's way too graphic to mention here....even I have a secret or two...well, you can ask me in person...wink, wink. I believe that only Persephone and the Madman would truly stand to applaud, though...!

Woof.

Now I Know Why Tigers Eat Their Young...

I love my daughter. With my entire heart and soul. I never before imagined a love so great, until she pooped into my life....I would lay down my own life without hesitation to protect her from harm. This is why I took her to her father's as soon as I could today. She was driving me nuts.

We were supposed to have a night, just the two of us, to hang out while C was out. We rented movies, I made dinner per her request, we painted our nails and ate gobs of chocolate. Let me also mention that she is so fabulous that she sliced a zucchini (we were out of cukes) to lay on my eyes, so I could relax while she poured lotion on me. How funny! I worked on her back, and then I started to fade out...my energy is dwindling. We laid around, and the moment I began to doze off, she poked me. Then, she talked incessantly during my movie, despite my gentle plea...I dozed off again. I wake up to this odd sensation- she is now sucking my kneecap just to wake me up. It's 11pm or so, I am not remotely awake, but I am infuriated. I turn off my movie, and turn off my movie in a huff, vascilating between a yell and a mumble.

When I wake up this morning, I feel rather guilty about my tone. I figure I will take her to Marty's bakery, and we'll have a good chat before we split for a few days. No. She refuses to halp me clean up, walks off with a pen in her hand, ignoring my every word. She has not brushed her hair or her teeth, as I asked an hour ago. I am infuriated! We met friends at Kopperman's for brunch, and then off to her father's. I needed that break as soon as I could get it. Am I a horrible mother? We had a fabulous brinch, but I am in desperate need to curl up with the chick flix I bought, actually watch them, and primp before my love walks through the door and finds me wearing something shocking. I feel so guilty.

Shiva, This Had Better Be Good....

I have a hard time trusting in the universe. It's something others seems to do relatively easy, but any time that I have tried...my world comes crashing down. Case in point- yesterday. I ran my ass off and worked steadily at the job hunt, while I finished laundering C's baseball uniform for the big game. I raced home, uniform in hand, to meet my love and depart. I finally received a phone call from him...

"Hey, baby. I am going to be stuck here for a while. A few hours most likey. It's not good. The whole company....I cannot talk now. I won't make it to the game, and I'll be home as soon as I can." Later, I got a call that he was on his way. I brought out a beer and a smoke, and waited for him. The company announced that they were going to stop all collection immediately, and they were in fact closing unless/until they could find additional backing through local hospitals. Fuck. Now, C is a VP- of two departments no less- and he is the only one that can/does work with the FDA. It is likely that he will stay on for a few weeks. This means we are now in a desperate situation- I have no job...and soon he wil be without as well.

He did run by his game to catch the last inning and ride the Harley for a while. It seems one of his teammates is a recruiter and another one works at AB, and god knows that C would love to do some QC there! I am still waiting to hear what the definate word is regarding his position. (Sigh) I wait....

I Know I Can, I Know I Can!

I have been a little stagnant, and I figure if I post a list of goals on my blog, then I will be held accountable to the entire world at large to accomplish the following:

- quit smoking! I am down to a mere one a day, but I need to drop that down by a factor of one. I cannot afford to smoke- I have asthma, and this bronchitis thing sucks! Besides, I can make better use of my body.

- Shape up! It's not that I have gained weight since I have gotten sick, but my body was used to lifting weights. I am softer than I would like to be. It's also more noticeable to me since I have gotten with C- he is such a hardbody. He is not tall or wide, either. A couple of pounds on me arse makes me feel like the god is poking the whale...I shall make time to do this every day.

- Find a job. Ok, I haven't been slacking on this one. I have been hitting my websites almost every day, and makeing calls and sending resumes. I just need to hit it hardert if possible, and maintain my diligence.

- I am learning how to cook- can you believe that? I have never cooked so many meals in my life. I will dig out those cookbooks of mine, and keep these skills growing. btw- I made a stuffed artichoke the other night. I have ordered several, but had no idea what I was doing. What I have found is that I actually have a knack for cooking, and I promise to continue to learn to make the foods that I would order- Amy food!

I Used To Love Him, But I Had To Kill Him

I am having this utterly childish reaction to this blissful state of lust, love, and gratitude. Now, C is an incredible man. Never met any man like him. He is so selfless and generous, and giving and emotionally available- I could go on. He's fucking impressive. I never knew that a man like him existed. Really. But, this isn't about gushing. When I feel sick, he takes care of my every need. He checked my breast lump the other day. He's fixing my brakes. He has made me dinner. He pours out so much generosity with every breath....

So, I am just getting over waitng for the other shoe to drop. And, perhaps this was all prompted by a conversation with Mr. Tripod...but this good feelin' has forced me to look back a bit. Now, in the last year I have learned the true meaning of love, or at least, tweeked my definition....I have loved those two men, yes. Now, why? Jesus- I was asking for so little. And those two still could not rise to my meager expectations. And then, I was made wrong for asking. This has me retroactively pissed, and I know that this is an utterly childish feeling. It's absolutely illogical. I am not literally angry with them, rather I am angry at myself. I spent so much time walking in a daze, or killing time...I don't know. I just did not know that such a thing as this was possible.

Ouch!

It's been way too long since I have blogged, or snuggled with my cats, or watched a movie with my housemates. Life has become too chaotic. Is this the tradeoff for finally finding love? Ugh.....I don't know...I really miss my cats!!! Heh.

I walk in today to do some laundry and continue with my job search. I need to get something fast. I also want to get something I would enjoy. Now that I am no longer required to be the breadwinner, I can do anything I want. I am trying to get in with a florist. I want something creative and fun. I have also considered a bakeries, antiques, nurseries, etc. I want to learn a new skill but work at a hobby.....anyone understand?

As for my health, it has been better. I have spent too much time on-the-go, under the thumb of bilocation. I am trying to play the backbone, find a job, and a house. I was smoking and caught my bi-annual bronchitis, but then forgot to take my antibiotics as well as my daily regime of supplements. I am on the verge of an utter relapse. I owe it to this new family to produce, and I cannot produce at 50%.

I am actually getting to spend a couple of days at the house with my cats. I have missed them so much! Today is the day of the big party for B and S's 13th anniversary. My ex-boyfriend, J and I went in 50/50 on a gift for them. We were going to set them up at the Cheshire for a night, and we decided at the last minute to but them a douple-wide hammock instead. Woohoo- they loved it. Good call!

I am still recovering from my battle with bronchitis....still looking for a job and a new place to call home. Nothing new here, really. Life.....is good.

Forget Reality

I wanted to share with both of my readers an experience I had last week. My love and I, frustrated with my lack of birth-control pills, decided to try Reality, the female condom (fc), as a change of pace. It seemed like a great idea. This would not restrict his sensation, and it wouldn't really tamper with mine. I also liked the fact that it was made of polyurethane, just like the male counterparts I appreciate so much.

After my darling dear and I get home, we lay on the bed joking and reading the instruction booklet. Yes, booklet. For those unfamiliar, the fc consists of a tube, with both an inner ring, and an outer ring. The trick is to insert the inner ring into the vagina and the outer ring sits externally, partially covering the labia. Ugh. I knew this was not going to be the vulvar fashion statement of the year!

Now, two things in the instructions just made me keel over in a fit of laughter. The first was the notation that the fc can be placed internally up to eight hours before intercourse. Really ?!? I get to walk with this swishy contraption hanging off of my labia for an entire workday? Now, that's hot!!! The second notation reminded the user to remove the condom after intercourse, and before you stand up!!!! I could just see this trail of love through the house- no hide and seek games during afterglow!!!

So, I open the package and C and I stare at the thing laughing hysterically. His eyes get huge, stunned over the monstrosity dubbed the "inner ring". He says, "That thing is HUGE. Honey, I have been there, and that thing will never fit. You are going to hurt yourself!!!" I am cracking up, and I assure him that the ring is bendy and I will figure it out. Other women use diaphragms, so I should be able to do this somehow, right?

I am determined to be a good sport for the sake of his manhood and pleasure, so I ask him to wait while I attempt to insert. I warn him this may take a while. I position myself as recommended by the booklet. By the grace of god, I managed to get it situated in no time at all, and then it happened. I walked down the hall and back toward our bedroom...."schwish, schwish, schwish" I felt like it was so loud as I tiptoed down the hall- as though it would make it quieter....

Not to be deterred, I take a deep breath and enter the room. "Uh, baby..." I say, "This is NOT sexy." It looks as though I have a ziplock baggie popping out. I refuse to give up...I did not go through all that for nothing! So, we manage to get all hot and bothered again and we manage for a few moments. Needless to say, it was not sexy for either of us. We gave it up.....and laughed.

Now, I cannot tell you about the experience from a male perspective.... and I have no idea about the sensational aspect of it all....But, from a female perspective, I can tell you I felt like my love was raping a sandwich baggie, and I was the ziplock warmer/holder. So, ladies....don't go there. It's a nice thought to care about your lover's sensation during safe sex, but you will not enjoy the Reality....; )

Not Too Much Fun? What is That?

So, I love Cosmopolitian magazine. I shouldn't, I know. A bunch of strung-out waifs in bikinis that with each smoldering look and sparkling smile, tell me "ewwww......your ass is like totally oh so fat!" But, I ask you to name a pleasurable vice that is healthy. (Point!) I decided to look in the Kama Sutra box this week, and print it out to sneak in my honey's lunch or briefcase tomorrow, and I came across a quiz. Women love quizzes. We do not know why, we know they do not mean anything....Perhaps it's simply a guilt-free way for us to focus on ourselves for a moment when we spend 99% of the day thinking about other people and/or more stuff we should do. Anyway, the quiz is : Are you fun to be with? I think so, but boy, if I had a quiz to back me up on this....Here is my completed profile:

Good-Times Gal

Your definition of fun isn't pushing yourself to the limit but finding pleasurable ways to unwind. For instance, you'll cut out of work early and hit a party with coworkers after a rough day, but you don't go overboard, dance with every guy in the joint and wind up missing work the next day to recover. "You've achieved a sense of balance," says Cameron Tuttle, author of The Bad Girl's Guide to the Party Life. "You know when it's important to get out of your serious mind-set and let loose, even if you're feeling stressed or worried about something. You also know when it's wise to spend quality time by yourself on the couch."

Similarly, you don't feel like you need to prove to everyone what a fun chick you are. If skydiving sounds less than enjoyable, you're not about to free-fall just to impress your date. Still, you're flexible enough to step outside of your comfort zone occasionally. Because of your mix of charisma and calm, both friends and suitors find you so damn enchanting to be around.

Now, damn. Praised be- I am so fucking perfect, I am not even TOO MUCH fun. Apparantly, there is such a thing. Who knew?!? But, damn. I am so perfect, I am even the perfect amount of fun. Does this should like utter kitty shit to anyone else but me? I am convenient, portable (no 'carry her like a six-pack' jokes), and even the proper amount of fun!

Today's Rant: Boys are Sluts...Duh

So this morning, I hop over to Cosmo's website, and my eyes are immediately assaulted with one of the stupidest questions I have ever heard..."How Do I Initiate Sex? My boyfriend wants me to initiate sex, but for some reason I can't. How can I overcome this insecurity and just jump on him?"

Well, sporto...pull up a chair. Let's just take the last week. How have I initiated sex? Hmmmm....iron while you are wearing something scandalous, suggest trying the new female condom- bad idea, but a great story for later- , rip off your clothes in front of him once you hit the door- hell, while you are there, rip his off, too (in case he's slow to catch on). Now, all of these techniques are sure fire ways to get the balls rolling. (heh)

The truth is, and yes, I love my men, but men are easily seduced. I always start with "My name is _____." Ok, so a few of them are not that easy, but really. Men are visual creatures. Remember my men and pornography rant? Yes...Give them a feast for the eyes. I am not only talking about skin here. Let him watch you suck on an ice cube....lick your fingers and let him do the same over some cookie dough...walk around naked, or even in a towel. Sometimes, it's what you do not show that captures the man's attention.

If you really want to drive a man nuts, try a new persona in the boudior....if you are normally quiet, get loud....if you are normally timid, throw him around a bit....Of course for me, the new persona would be a panty-wearing, ice-tea sipping wallflower, but hey......you never know what will do the trick. As my good friend just reminded me, you may feel nervous or awkward at first, especially if you are not drinking. But once you see the indestructible erection you have created, you will throw caution to the wind.

If you are too shy to actually do anything in that realm, try adding sex to your conversation. While you are sitting in the car, lean over and remind him of how you loved the feel of him inside you the last time you were together. Take a moment and tell him all of the details that make his member so unique and nifty. You don't know of any? Then, you need to spend some time down there having a penile-appreciation day! They all vary; and like snowflakes, no two are alike. ( and they SHOULD last for more than two seconds on your tongue!)

The truth is, almost anything works. Erections are easy to come by. unless you are Bob Dole. You can create one while doing the dishes- just grind against him for a moment when Mr. Man stops in to grab a beer. Voila! You can make one over the phone- call him at the office and tell him a really dirty fantasy (and hang up quickly).

Ladies- you are the lego-masters of erections! You build them, you play with them, and you can do this at your will. Isn't that a fun and fabulous power ?!? Like all superpowers, please remember that it comes with the weight of responsibility. Please do not abuse your erectile priviledges.

This rant turned into about 5 different rants...I must apologize. I will probably pick these points off one-by-one for rants in the future. In the meantime kiddos, just remember......boys are sluts. we should take our turn and chase them around the house. erections are easy to make, unless you are bob dole, and you should always use your powers for good, not evil. Now, you should all go out and practice everything you learned here today. Unless you are a heterosexual man....then you should wait and hope.

Ok, Maybe I Am A Little Stressed!

It just seems to be one of those times where there is so much to do, and obstacles keep popping up all around. I actually have a wee bit of energy. I suspect my body is up to no good again, and attempting a relapse. I am fighting it every step of the way. I will admit that I have pushed too hard and not stuck to my diet and meds....damn. I am a bad girl. Now, I battle my semi-annual case of bronchitis. Woohoo, smoking makes you cool!

I am rather determined to clean this hose today, before I pack up to head to the apartment. You want to know something sick? I miss the days I do not spend with C. I like my alone time, but I actually enjoy being at his disposal. Yes, me...the never-love-too-hard-again girl. I enjoy doing all of these things for him. My mother says he will "make me into a good woman". She has already noticed a radical change in my perspective. I told her I was more than comfortable being a "fabulous snob". Heh. But, she is right. Just the other day, he and I were driving through town, and I could only look at him, sigh, smile, and mutter, "I hate you." He ruined me. I was such a fabulously dashing good-time girl, and now I am a sap. I am supremely happy with supporting him, wherever he wants to be. Puke. I hate him.

Tonight is ironing night, though! We love sexy ironing! BTW- I have decided, between my coughing and my contentment, to let the velvet hammer live- for now. More to come!!!!

To The Velvet Hammer:

How dare you! What consistant audacity- who do you think you are? Your entire life, I have watched you sparkle in your self-made, ever-glowing spotlight of quick humor and borrowed witticisms. I began working the curtain, as I knew the stage was too crowded, with you and your ego. I am not trying to produce a holier-than-thou mantra, but I was the backbone while you were looking glamorous. While you breezed in and out of our lives, "unable to cope with our drama", I took care of the issues requiring strength, diligence, and discipline. You bastard.

I hate you as much as I love you. You are certainly my other half, but it's the half I choose to discard. Your venom is boundless. You allowed our mother to believe she was never there for you. That's all she ever was- there for us. You just had to stop for a moment. She pulled our father off of you, and off of me. Maybe she could have left sooner to spare us, but really- where could she go? She was indeed trapped with no money, no education at that time. Have you ever been trapped? No, not you....You chose the coke over your child, you drank through your last marriage, you escaped to a hodgepodge of cities....what good has it done you? And what have you learned? Not much. And our father? Yes, what a self-absorbed prick he can be....perhaps you did learn something after all! But, take note of his better attributes as well....security, stability, duty. No, you chose to integrate his loathing and objectification of women, as well as his utter reluctance to apologize. Yet, the man still goes to bat for you after almost forty years. You know, he hasn't laid a hand on you in over 20 years. It's time to toss out the tissues on that one- make peace with it, confront him, see a counselor, anything- because we all, and I mean every living person on this planet, earns our battlescars and can hate our flesh and blood. Yet, most of us choose to grow the fuck up and move on.

Why are you so special that you don't have to obey the civilized rules of interpersonal relationships? Why do you get to crawl in the bottle, or do a line of coke, all the while singing, "I....ain't got nobody!" I have sat, in shock and awe, in my quiet little corner watching you destroy those that care, much like a hurricane. Your mother asks me what could I do to be better? Your father asks me when will he grow up? Your girlfriends run to me with questions as to what they have done wrong. If you are lucky- and you are one lucky SOB- you will actually outlive your parents, much to their surprise. They have already apologized to me..." I am sorry, A, but he will be coming to you once we are gone. Just don't give him cash." It's ridiculous that this has been repeated to me since I was about ten years old. I don't mind being the responsible level-headed one, but I hate the fact that I have no other choice. Someone has to be.

Someone had to tell Mom it was going to be alright when she left Dad. Where were you? Coking at Gateway! Someone had to pick Dad up and support him and his every need after each surgery. Where were you? Getting wasted in Chicago! Someone has to help Mom through this last incident. Not really your fault- you don't know about it- because she knows that she cannot depend on you! Dad needs help around the house. Where are you? You cannot even wake up on time for an annual family function. You are too hungover....When things are good, you are nowhere to be found. When things are tough, you run. You have the fucking balls to tell our mother to lie in the bed she has made, when she had bailed you out time and time again.

Well, there is one thing that is so incredibly similar between you and I - our anger. My dear, you have now overstepped your bounds. After a peaceful holiday, this will not be pretty. I love you, but, my dear, you are about to be fucked by the little quiet one in the corner.

Domestic Goddess

As I am dividing my time between my place and C's apartment, I am laughing at the various roles I play in a week. I am now pseudo-wife and fabulous mother....Most of all, I love how I remembered to be such a cool domestic goddess. The other night as C ran another load for some friends in the midst of moving, I finished making dinner, and uncorked the wine. I walked the dog, and lit candles throughout the place. While the wine was breathing, I vacumed and put away a load of our laundry. I then placed my hair in a bun, pulled his dress shirts, and dressed in the Victoria's Secrest Very Sexy collection. My beautiful man came home, and I handed him a glass of wine while he relaxed in the shower. I continued to iron, much to his surprise, and finished his week's worth of dress shirts in that little ensemble....Damn, I am good!

Needless to say, C is very happy that I am still unemployed. I wake up in the morning and flip on the coffee pot, getting him a cup while I crack open a coke. I take Jake for a walk, and hand my love his coffee as he jumps in the shower. While showering, I make him a full breakfast, and prepare a lunch and/or a thermos full of coffee. For the moment, I still need to work part time, but soon I will be able to focus completely on school and my new family-to-be. I love this change of pace. I don't think I have it in me to be a stay-at-home mom for an extended period of time, but right now, I love being the backbone of this life we are creating. I love watching him eat a full breakfast, I love having the time to listen to my daughter laugh and frolic in the pool, I love slipping sexy notes into his briefcase, and I love having this summer with Maddie.

We are leaving town Friday morning to spend the holiday in Litchfield. I am excited to share with Maddie what a small-town holiday can be. I would never want to live in a small town again, and thankfully, neither does C, but holidays can be so much better. Much to do until then....