Protected: Love Bus

15 May

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Protected: A Like Like Letter

3 May

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Laser Beams

2 May

One of the most fun parts of hooking up with someone new is discovering their body for the first time.  It’s like unwrapping a present – you never know what you’re going to get until all the wrapping is off.  I tend to be like a kid a Christmas, ripping all the packaging off the gift and diving right in.   Usually you’ll get an a “Oh! I love it! It’s just what I wanted!” from me.  On some occasions there may have been an “Oh.  Not what I was expecting, but it will do.”  Mind you, the last reaction is never spoken aloud.

The reaction to the package, so to speak, isn’t just about size or shape.  Much of it has to do with the grooming which has or has not taken place.  I appreciate when a man takes care of his business.  Rifling through a forest of pubic hair is not my idea of a good time.  Just as we ladies are expected to keep our lady parts groomed, I expect my men to do the same thing.  Manscape the shit out your stuff, dudes, it’s common courtesy.  No one wants to be choking on pubic hair during a blowie.  Hooking up with 3D was like being lost in a deep dark forest, I forgave him because the package he carried was pretty substantial and he knew what to do with it.

In this most recent round of dating I’ve found men to be far more concerned with the way they present their junk, and for that, I say “thank you.”

We ladies have all sorts of options these days: stay full, trim it, landing strips, bald eagle.  You have to figure out the best way to make your lady bits shine in the way they should.  Maintenance can be a bit of a chore, but it’s always worth it.  You can shave it, tweeze it, wax it, or laser it.  Shaving is great on day 1, then the damn little red bumps make their appearance.  Waxing makes me want to die on the table, and when it’s time to regrow the hair it’s so damn itchy.  It’s what I imagine crabs to be like, only more uncomfortable.  Tweezing takes an eternity and you end up with the same regrowth issues as with waxing.  And that, my friends, is why I have decided on laser hair removal.

Two weeks ago I had my initial consult.  It was quick, they showed me lots of pictures of options (bikini, landing strip, full Brazilian), we talked about the process, and I signed on the dotted line.  6 sessions, every 2 months to kill all those pesky hair follicles.  Ridiculous amount of money to get it done, but it will be worth it.

Last week I went to my first appointment.  I was dead nervous as during the consult I had been told it the process would take 40 minutes.  I’d read the sensation felt like rubber bands snapping on skin, and that sensation on my most sensitive parts for 40 minutes didn’t seem like something to look forward to.  People, it was worse than snapping laser bands.  There are certain parts of your lady bits which are super sensitive and the technician told me it would feel really “spicy”.  It felt like someone was pinching as hard as they possibly could – I don’t know about you, but I’m not down with pinching my privates.  There I was on my back, naked from the waist down, legs akimbo with a complete stranger, trying not to sweat and cry.  Kind of like a first hook up only not as fun.  All because I want to be properly groomed when I hook up.  Talk about vanity.

Thankfully, the process only lasted about 10 minutes.  There was no pain after the session.  I was told it would take about 2 weeks before the shedding phase, then I’d be hairless for a few weeks, and then the sleeping follicles (they go through growth cycles) would activate.  I’ll keep you posted on progress.  We’ll see how things go.  So far, I’m not seeing anything new.  Monsieur le Baguette is eager to see how everything works out.

Operation #laseredladybits is in progress!

Two months

1 May

Tomorrow marks 2 months since the Gods of online dating saw fit to match us and he sent the first message.  It seems like far longer than that already.  We have known each other for what feels like a lifetime, and yet we don’t know each other at all.

Falling into the rhythm of a new relationship has been easy.  We see each other every other weekend for a multi-night date.  Every night there’s a text message with a kissy winky face wishing me sweet dreams, and every morning there’s a bright cheery message waiting for me.  I’ve met some of his family, he’s met my sister, he’ll meet the rest of my family later this month.  This weekend I’m going to meet the rest of his friends.  We’ve booked a trip to Europe together.

We talk to each other on the phone everyday, usually more than once a day. During most of the phone calls there comes a time where he starts talking about how he can’t believe we’ve found each other, and how he’s never felt this way before.  One drunken night the other weekend he was getting ready to drop the L bomb.  I told him no, it was too soon.  He told me when we first started messaging he knew we were going to be together. He says beautiful things that fill my heart and set off sparks inside me.  All the things we chicks yearn to hear – he says I’m beautiful and smart and funny and he’s never laughed like he does when he’s with me and I make him feel special and he wants to spend time with me and he can’t wait for me to meet his kids (down the line) and time goes by so quickly when we’re together and time drags so slowly when we’re apart and he’s never been so excited to meet someone’s family.

My head is sometimes filled with “what if’s”.

  • What if he changes his mind about me?
  • What if he’s not smart enough?
  • What if he doesn’t challenge me?
  • What if he gets bored?
  • What if I get bored?
  • What if I’m just a rebound?
  • What if I only think I want to be with him?
  • What if what we feel isn’t real?
  • What if we don’t like each other once we really get to know one another?

I have doubts.  I don’t know if they’re real doubts or excuses I look for so it won’t work out and I can call things off before I get too involved.  If I get out now, then I won’t get hurt, right?  As often as he tells me how he feels about me, I am filled with insecurity.  If hours go by without me hearing from him I assume the worst and think he’s lost interest.  Which is ridiculous, and yet I can’t help it.  We’ve exchanged a few messages this morning, not as many as usual, and that makes me nervous.  Nervous EVEN THOUGH I know he’s out buying me shampoo and conditioner to keep at his house.  He went out and bought new sheets and bedding so I’d like his bed when I slept in it.  I’m being silly, I know it, and I can’t help it.

Being single, in many regards, is easy.  You have control over your life.  You decide who you let in and who you keep out.  You own your time and energy.  You do what you want, when you want, with whomever you want.  You don’t have to open yourself up to someone if you don’t want to.  I have been single for so long I’ve forgotten how to be in a relationship.  I am afraid to take the chance, of opening myself up to him and potentially getting hurt, of losing control over the life I have built for myself.

The honeymoon part of a relationship has always been my favorite part.  Effortless.  Amazing.  It’s like looking through life through a fresh set of eyes.  For whatever reason, this honeymoon phase makes me scared – I feel this time around I have so much more to lose and I’m afraid to give into it.  I’m looking for this to unravel and leave me wrecked.  Maybe I should stop doing that.  Maybe I should fall without knowing if there’s a safety net to catch me.  Maybe I should close my eyes and step off the ledge.

But I’m scared to do that.

Protected: Chubby chaser

18 Apr

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Check mate

17 Apr

I am a horrible person.

A horrible person who took the easy way out and ended up crushing a soul and stealing a spine.

A horrible person because it was easier for me to avoid the conversation than to have it and instead I ended up being more hurtful to the other person. Which of course makes me feel shitty and makes me think I should have been more forthcoming about where I was and where we were never going to go.  Oh, Chess Player.  I’m an asshole.  A hurtful dick hole.

He knew I was dating other people, but I think he thought we were further along than we actually were. He knew I was going away last weekend, but I didn’t tell him it was with Monsieur le Baguette.  Maybe if it was a different time, if there was no MlB, I don’t know.

Last week after I’d gotten home and MlB and I had “the talk” the Chess Player texted me to see how my weekend had been.  I didn’t respond.  I told myself I’d get to it at some point, and instead I let it go.  A week went by and last night – after a week of silence from me – he sent another message, “Hey, hope you’re well.  It seems like I completely misread the situation between the 2 of us.” I could have chosen to ignore it, to let it go, and leave him wondering.  Then I thought I’d hate if someone did that to me.  I’d swallow the discomfort and tell him what was up.

So I messaged him.  I told him I’d met someone the week before I’d met him, and he was who I had been with last weekend, and we’d decided to give things a go as boyfriend and girlfriend.

And he was blindsided.

And I am an asshole.

He feels confused and led on, and I did that to him.  It is hurtful when someone does it to you and here I’ve done it to someone else.  I should have told him sooner.  I should have just not texted him or gone out with him again.  But I didn’t do those things.  Instead we texted frequently, I said yes to a date with him, I ended up naked in his bed again, and I made him think we had some kind of future together when that wasn’t the case.

I am a horrible person.

When work gets in the way

16 Apr

Dating someone with children who lives out of town requires all sorts of logistical planning.  When Monsieur le Baguette and I talk on the phone, which is at least a zillion times a day, we often have to start calendaring dates.  Sometimes I wonder if I can use my assistant to help us plan when we’re going to see each other.  Couldn’t that fall into “other duties as assigned” in her job description?

  • Me: You free on this date?
  • MlB: Yes.  I am.
  • Me: Oh, wait, I have brunch that day.
  • MlB: How about the next weekend?  No, I have the kids.
  • Me: I can meet you the day before you pick up the kids.
  • MlB: Great, that works!
  • Me: I just have to be to work at a reasonable hour.

Then we laugh and laugh because we know that’s not going to happen because we’ll be staying up too late doing the things that adults do.  Our dates last a few days, not just a few hours, since it’s somewhat easier to plan and we don’t want to be stuck in the car or on a train for too long.

Date 4 is coming up this weekend: 5 nights and I can’t freaking wait!  The plan was that he’d be at my house by noon so we could enjoy one another’s company (read: afternoon delight or nooner if you prefer), then I’d head back to the office for a few hours before sneaking out early so we could bone again.  Well wouldn’t you fucking know it, this afternoon I received an appointment for a fucking meeting that I can’t decline so now my lunch time plans are ruined!

Cock blocked by work.

Why can’t I be independently wealthy so I can get laid whenever I want?  God, life is so god damned hard.