пятница, 15 ноября 2019 г.

Dating And Embarrassing Body Functions

Sometimes you can’t control your body functions.  And if you’re lucky no one is there to witness it or notice.  But that wasn’t the case a few weeks ago.  My evening started with a date with AD33.  We decided to have wings and beer at Buffalo Wild Wings.  Since she was driving, I was planning to have a couple extra drinks.
Our time at Buffalo Wild Wings was very uneventful.  We enjoyed a few good laughs as we were people watching.  There was the guy 2 tables over that looked like Fire Marshal Bill from In Living Color.  And of course there were a couple guys who were hitting the punching bag in the corner to prove how much of a bad ass they were.  Most of the time we played trivia and drank beer.  Overall it was a good time.  We spent about 3 hours there.
AD33 was ready to come back to my place to get some Swirl Love.  It was about midnight when we arrived at my place.  We had one more drink for a night cap and got naked.  AD33 and I have always been on the same page sexually and this was no different.  Once we were both satisfied, we feel asleep.  I’m not sure what time it was, but it was late.  Shortly after AD33 woke up to say, “opps… Sorry!”  I sat up with a puzzled look on my face and said, “what the hell are you talking about?”  She said, “I farted in my sleep and it woke me up.”  I couldn’t help but laugh.  If she had, I would’ve felt it (or so I imagined).  We were spooning and her butt was against me.  She didn’t think it was funny, but it was too late.
Once she drifted back to sleep, I couldn’t sleep.  I wasn’t sure if that was a warning sign of what was about to happen later in the night.  About a hour later she woke up again and said she had to go home.  She couldn’t sleep well.  After talking for a few minutes, she decided she was leaving.  
After she left, it made me wonder if this has happened to her before.  Maybe she trying to avoid something worse.  I know that we all have involuntary body functions that we can’t control, but I don’t remember this happening with another woman.  I don’t remember hearing another woman have gas while in bed.  Was it the wings and beer?  Or was it something more?
Anyone else have a similar experience?  Was it my laughter that made her self conscience?  Or should we just avoid the wings and beer combo?

Random Romance

Let’s face it; humans as a species are easy.  How hard is it to get someone to have sex with you?  Yes, I understand that it is generally easier for women. Women generally have to turn that shit down.  It is like we have to dodge dick on a daily basis being forced to duck and weave through all the lines and offers like the schlong slalom.  Seducing another human being even getting them to like you is not that challenging.  I am great at “making friends” with American guys.  Perhaps too good.  But falling in love?  That takes a little romance.
Here are some romantic gestures that really work on Ms.
Charlotte Jay and if it works on me, it is likely to work on other women.
– Opening doors. I know, it is silly.  I have lived
in the South for a few months and am already spoiled.  Yes, I can open the car door on my own, but if a man walks around the car door to open it for me, that is great.  I am too impatient for him to open the door to let me out.  That is just excessive.
– He lets me have a bite of his meal.  This is so key to me.  First of all, what he orders tells me a lot about what kind of person he is.
Does he order something healthy, spicy, or exotic?  Does he try something new?  I have this untested theory that if a man is experimental at the table, he might be experimental in bed.
I don’t know yet.  All I know so far is that I find picky eaters to be annoying and therefore I have never gotten far enough to test this theory.
He picks me up at my house.  This is NOT recommended for on-line daters!  If a man picks a lady up at her house and interacts with her family, roommates, or dog for a few minutes before taking her out shows that he sees you as a lady with a community that cares about her and to whom she is accountable.  This might make him think twice before “stealing” her away or question is non-noble intentions.
 When he looks into my eyes.  Not in a creepy way, but he just looks into my eyes hoping to get some clues to the mysteries of my soul.  On dates, men often look at my mouth (or my breasts).  This is NOT necessarily a bad thing.  I want a man to find me attractive.  There are problems if he does not at least steal a glance once or twice, trust me.   I hypothesize that they look at my mouth imagining what it would be like to kiss me, or have more naughty thoughts like how my lips would look wrapped around their cock.  That is all well and good, but all women have lips, some are nicer than others, but no other woman has eyes or a soul like mine.
– Little gifts, notes or gestures, not huge extravagant presents.  I love little sweet texts and little notes.  Notes and love letters are a lost art in this digital age.  Little gifts would be an icy Diet Mountain Dew that is my favorite, or a fountain Diet Coke with a splash of Coke or better yet just a bit of cherry flavor that you can get convenience stores like Speedway and Tom Thumb.  If he gets my
coffee order right: Venti latte, 2% no sugar or flavor Or Iced coffee, cream no sugar or flavor, or dark roast coffee with 2 or 3 creams.  Candy could be tricky if I am dieting or something, but hardly anyone has asked what my favorite candy is.  Bonus points for any man that would ask.  Flowers for no reason as long as they are not excessive.  Some little gift that made you think of me or remind you of a moment we shared.  Sigh…. That would be lovely.  Getting a chewy bone or a toy for my dog would be nice too.  She is too old for rawhide, I wonder if a man would care enough to know that.
– Expensive gifts are NOT a good idea for a girl like me.  First of all, it makes me think you are trying to purchase me. Also, there is the stench of desparation to a man that buys expensive jewelry to early in a relationship.  DON’T FALL FOR IT and DO NOT feel obligated to the man.  If possible do not accept the gift.  I have made this mistake.   It also sets up some kind of expectation or reciprocal situation I would make me feel uncomfortable.  HUSBANDS can buy expensive gifts like jewelry. Boyfriends, stick to lattes and chewy bones.
– Walks in the park or the beach.  I know that is so lame “If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain,” thank you Jimmy Buffet.  First of all, pina coladas are great and so are margaritas, but lattes or smoothies will work on a “light weight” like me.  Getting caught in the rain with the right person can be kind of fun, even sexy.
If you walk on the beach or in a park, you might accidently brush up
against each other, hold hands, or just enjoying the simple beauty of the earth with the right person can be magical.
– Road trips. I have not been on a good road trip with anyone for years.  I have driven cross country with my dog, but
it is not the same.  A good road trip could be with a friend or family members can be fun as well.  My brother and I travel well together.  But an actual road trip with a boyfriend or with at least a spark of romantic potential, sigh.  The heart can dream, right?
– Not only how he touches me, but how he does not touch me as well.  Ladies, do you remember a time when a man was making out with you and did not just “go for the gold” or try to get whatever he can get but instead respected your body and waited to be “invited” to touch you? Wow, what would that feel like? You know when you are friends with a person and there is that electricity between the two of you and how you might casually touch them and then jerk your hand away because you felt that jolt of attraction you were not ready for?  That is divine, is it not?  That electricity is not just for
virgins, it is for anyone who is open to falling in love again.  A good lover, the right lover, will make you feel like a virgin ala’ Madonna circa 1984 in how they make you feel like you have never been touched.
– He respects that I have a life outside of him.  I was on a date once and I had to go to a writer’s club meeting and instead of being all greedy and encouraging me to stay with him for his pleasure which he could have talked me into especially if I thought I would lose him if I left, he made sure that I got to my writer’s group on time because he knew it was important to me.  Perhaps he was secure that I would come back to him.  He valued the parts of my life that made me “me.”  That is a man who knows how to love.
– He will rub my tummy and/or back when I am crampy and does not pressure me for sex. I have been informed that some other black women turn into evil beasts at that time of the month and every bit of unpleasantness that is usually suppressed in their nature comes out because she can “blame the hormones.”  I venture that she is probably a bitch 365 24/7 and she just pulls out all the stops. I am not saying I am an angel.  I have been known to complain and be lethargic, but it is ovulation is such a magical time, I just wait it out.

понедельник, 11 ноября 2019 г.

Advantages of Not Being a “Pretty Girl” at UK Backpage Site

“God help you are an ugly girl, but too pretty is also your doom, cause everyone has a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room.”  – “32 Flavors” Ani DiFranco

I was not a cute baby.  Come on people, you know that not all babies cute.  You know it, society knows it, even the baby’s own mother knows it.  I looked like my father when I was a baby, which would have been fine….if I were a boy.  I had fine light brown hair that was more or less fuzz on a round head, chubby cheeks, and way too intense light eyes that belong on any child.  To top it off, I had a profound speech impediment, kinda big for my age, socially awkward and a little defiant.
All that is different is the speech impediment went away.
As a child, whether it was true or not, I believed I was rather masculine looking.  My mother, in an act of nothing short of cruelly cut my hair short when I was about six making matters that much worse.  I have not forgiven her to this day.  Not only did I look even more boyish, I missed out on all the grooming rituals young Birmingham girls engaging in like braiding or even holding back a Backpage friends long hair at the drinking fountain.  I was the only girl in my class with short hair.  There are pictures so I did not imagine this.  I believe this just compounded my social isolation.
Teen years did not help.  I was a “late bloomer,” shall we say.  Even to this day that term seems embarrassing and euphemistic.  I was also overweight but not in a womanly, shapely kind of way.  So yeah, boys didn’t really like me.  This was okay, I suppose, because I was so emotionally and physically immature that I did not really like boys that much either.  I guess I liked them in a theoretical kind of way like way one thinks they might enjoy the Caribbean but have never really visited.  One might listen to reggae music, see Backpage people return from cruises with tans so the Land of Boys did exist, I just had never been there and as far as I was concerned was a mythical and mysterious as Shangri-La.
Here’s the thing.  And if I believe the flattery of my classmates, I think it is true.  I look about the same I did in high school.  If anything, I am about two to three sizes smaller than when I graduated high school.  Where most people have gained 40 to 50 pounds since high school, I have lost it, but I am hardly thin.  My skin is clear, very few lines, not a lot of skin damage, and Lord knows I have not had any children to wreak havoc on my body and accelerate gravity in any way.  I tease that is just Mother Nature’s way of tricking some unsuspected sperm donor into believing I still have a few more years of beauty and fertility left to sire and heir.  At least I keep my hair dresser in Backpage business by covering up my roots lest my graying hair gives me away.
So, what is the benefit here?  What is the upside of social isolation and lack of experience with the opposite sex.
I am still trying to figure that out.  Even coming out of a 12 year marriage, I am still rather innocent, “sweet,” and woefully ignorant of men.  I believe that this makes me a danger to myself and others.  I am the weak and wounded of the herd and men can smell fresh meat.  This is going to get me in trouble.
But if you have never been pretty, you can hardly mourn the passing of that beauty.  If you were not a pretty teenager, you don’t mind if you don’t look like a teenager anymore.  If you were a size 24, (God, I hate to see that in black and white, much less on sewn in my jeans) you think you look pretty hot as a size 18.  Here is another thing I did not realize.  Men in their 30’s (and up) are less concerned with a little extra pounds as much as the attitude that comes with it.  I have never learned how to be unapproachable.  If a man says I am beautiful, I want to believe him.  This is a good and bad thing.  I might have to start to be more selective.
In earlier entries I tease that all that time without a Backpage date gave me time to develop a personality and a sense of humor.  And yeah, if people care enough to look past it, they see that some of those jokes can be defense mechanism.
I might not have been a cute kid, but I do believe I am a beautiful woman.  Please don’t hate me for thinking that.  Yeah, I am tall and “built like a brick shithouse,” whatever that means.  I think depending on the connotation that might be complimentary.  I don’t know.  The thing is, I guess you can’t miss that which you have never had.

Life Before Boys


I was originally working on a piece titled “What I Want in a Boyfriend, Circa 1993.”
But alas, I had no boyfriend circa 1993 and therefore would have been per fiction.
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Phoenix.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Tucson.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Mesa.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Scottsdale.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Tempe.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Glendale.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Yuma.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Chandler.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Avondale.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Flagstaff.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Gilbert.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Peoria.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Prescott.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Apache-Junction.html?page=91
https://www.loveawake.com/free-online-dating/United-States/Arizona/city-of-Sierra-Vista.html?page=91

Maybe it was a good thing.  I say that now, but at the time when I was 17/18 years old, it was all I wanted.  Or all I thought that I wanted.  But not really.  Like many teens, I was ambivalent on the subject.  I wanted a boyfriend, kind of.  I wanted to be be wanted and “loved” (whatever that meant) but I didn’t want him to get in the way too much.  I didn’t want him to cramp my style or take me away from my friends, time to myself or become the giggling mass of dinginess and servitude  some of my friends at the time had become once they got boyfriends.  To me, they were a hot mess of hickeys and hormones held together with a three word phrase, “I love you” that made all their sacrifices of the mind and soul worth it.  But perhaps I am giving them too much credit.  Maybe there wasn’t that much mind and soul to to sacrifice.
I know I sound like sour grapes about it now.  But, really, maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t have a boyfriend.  I had all that time to study, work on myself, go out and have fun, and one always needs time to cry oneself to sleep.
Of course, I am exaggerating.
At one point in my formative years, I would have  loved to make out to Pearl Jam.  I thought that  “Ten” playing in the car CD player in the front seat and making out on the backseat would just be so ideal, so romantic, so deep and meaningful.  I did not date a boy who had his own car until I was 21 and he was 24.  I ended up marrying him.
It is a good thing I never fulfilled that dream of making out to “Ten.”  That album was so critical to the molding of my young self and, not to be too grandiose about it, but it did influence who I am today.  If I had made out to “Ten,”  and some boy who would have broken my heart, because seventeen year old hearts are meant to be broken, it would have forever tainted that album for me.  Track 2 I would have remembered an awkward fumbling in the dark.  By track 6 he is leaving me at a party and talking to some other girl.  By track 10 I am devastated and would begin to hate the boy and Eddie Vedder by proxie for making me remember.
And that would be a travesty.
Eddie Vedder might have been my first love.  His songs and lyrics made me think about what it would be like to be an actual person.  To be confused, angry, upset, but with hope and passion.
I remember the line from “Alive” second verse that really influenced my early views of what I thought sex was or what I thought it could be.
“Wow, she walks softly. Across a young man’s room. She said ‘I’m ready for you.’  Well, I don’t remember anything to this very day…. except the look.”
That verse showed me that a girl, no, a woman, is not just the object of affection, but can own her sexuality, but intimacy decisions on her own and she can be an actual participate, if not initiator of sex.  Mind blowing, huh?
I actually had an “Elderly Woman Behind a Counter in a Small Town” moment a few years ago.  I ran into randomly an old crush of mine.  Amazingly, as if out of a scene of my very own novel, every heartbreaking crush, every tingle he gave me with just his smile, even how he smelled filling my body and heart with such ache and longing came flooding back to me.
“I swear I recognize your breath.  Memories like fingerprints are slowly raising. Me you wouldn’t recall, for I’m not my former.. its odd when your stuck upon the shelf.  I change by not changing at all….But I just want to scream HELLO!  My God it’s been so long never dreamed you’d return but now here you are… and here I am….”
And no… even though this moment was rife with romantic tension, like before, like always and forever, it was one sided and this man will never love me.  Not like I loved him.  And perhaps it is just as well.  I no longer hold a flame for him… perhaps just a” candle of thought to light his name.”

A man's best accessory is his kids


"They're infiltrating our world."
"They who?" I asked Sara, wondering if she had suddenly developed a sixth sense and was seeing aliens or, worse yet, dead people.
"Men."
"Men? I thought it already was a man's world -- who's world are you talking about?"
"Kat, it's 2:30 on a Wednesday and look at all the men out and about.
I looked up and down San Anselmo Avenue, where Sara and I had stopped to window-ogle and have a latte after biking out to Nicasio. She was right. No matter where we were that morning, there were men parading around in the world that generally belonged to stay-at-home-mommies. Not in suits, either, but in Lycra on bikes, in T-shirts with strollers and Labs or balancing grocery bags in one hand and a screaming toddler trying to break away from the other.
"Wow. The newly jobless, you suppose?"
"Probably. And the about-to-be divorced."
"Sara, what are you talking about?
"It's the 'Little Children' Syndrome."
"I haven't heard of that. Is it like the Peter Pan one?"
"No, like the book. Todd's the cute stay-at-home dad and none of the moms on the playground trust him except Sarah, who ends up screwing him and he almost leaves his wife for her even though his wife's a hottie and Sarah's not."
"Sara, it's a novel! It's made up."
"It doesn't make a difference. Guys mulling around with kids in the middle of the day are like cleavage on a woman. Everyone notices it, and a certain percentage of the population wants to play with it."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" I said a little too loudly, evidently, as a few people on the sidewalk gave me a much wider berth than was called for.
But I had to wonder if Sara was onto something.
A lot of women melt at the sight of a man out with his children having daddy fun, which is always more rambunctious, messier and noisier than mommy fun. It's like emotional porn for us. We especially feel that way if we have a hubby or an ex who hasn't measured up to our vision of what "Good Dad" looks like.
"Look at that wonderful daddy who adores his kids and wants to be with them on his day off," we think. "What a lucky wife he has. She's probably out having facials and nips and tucks and spending ridiculous amounts of money on outfits she doesn't even need instead of spending a glorious day with her gorgeous, loving family. She doesn't even deserve him!"
And if he's a single dad, well, that's sexy. Most single moms I know want to date single dads because they "get" what single parenting is all about. We imagine he's more emotionally available and less self-absorbed because having kids changes you that way. So we're all ready to become Instant-Stepmom -- Poor guy, raising kids alone; he needs someone to look after him!
Can't say the same for single moms, though.
Yet if we see him every day at the typical mommy places, that's a very different thing.
There are about 159,000 stay-at-home dads. Given the current economic crisis, the number is probably increasing.
But the midweek afternoon world is a mommy's world. If women suffer discrimination in the boardroom, SAHDs suffer discrimination on the playground. Most SAHDs and dads who work from home say they're excluded from mommy activities. Women feel uneasy about having a man in the midst of their playground gatherings, where the kiddies play and the mommies mostly bitch about their hubbies' failings. Can't do that if there's a man around.
Still, if a lone dad ventures into mommyland -- and if he happens to be cute -- he'll have a gaggle of flirty moms around him in no time. That's why the hubbies don't like SAHDs either; they don't want some wanna-be "stud" hanging around their women even if they believe he's a wuss for staying home doing "women's work."

And a lot of women feel that way, too. Because we're never really sure if a man will be happy at home. On top of that, we'll be judged for not staying home and taking care of our kids.
But as a chick magnet, you just can't beat a devoted daddy cooing at his babies. Tell that to the pick-up artists!
******
Gals, do you find dads sexy?
Ever hit up on one?
Would you want your hubby to be a SAHD?
Guys, do you like being a SAHD, or would you want to be one?
Do women flirt with you when you're out with your kids?

среда, 6 ноября 2019 г.

Muse over this

I never heard of Joan Hunter Dunn until Thursday, when she died.
It could be that no one else would have, either, were it not for a chance meeting.
And, then, as they say, the rest is history.
Dunn was a caterer in Britain's Ministry of Information when in walked poet John Betjeman (whom I'd never heard of before Thursday, either). He was so smitten with her beauty — a wholesome beauty with sparkling eyes, even features, a wide smile and a dimple in one cheek, according to the Associated Press — that he immortalized her in his most popular poem: "A Subaltern's Love Song." They were never lovers, but were lifelong friends.
"She induced in him a feeling of happiness and well being that permeates through a lot of his work," John Heald, chairman of the Betjeman Society, said. "She was certainly his muse as far as that poem was concerned — he rather liked attractive women."
The idea of a muse is an interesting one; Wombat of Kiss 'n Blog posed the question, who is my muse? not too long ago. A few of us called him to task on it, though, because he seemed like he was looking for someone to do his grunge work, or perhaps a wife. (and they're not one and the same!).
But I wondered if a muse — "a source of inspiration," according to to Merriam Webster dictionary — wouldn't make a great wife, or a husband, for that matter. Because when you think about it, shouldn't your partner be "a source of inspiration" or, as it was for Betjeman, a person who induces a feeling of "happiness and well being" (and that's very different that being responsible for your happiness and well being).
After my divorce, when I started to clarify for myself who I am and who I'd want to be with, I realized that the love I seek is one that expands me, challenges me, makes me be a better person. And now, I'll add, inspires me.
So, I thought that would be a cool thing to a put out there in the online world, and then I came upon this and this.
Sigh.
It's hard to be a muse nowadays ....
Do you want your partner to be a muse, too?

Hey jealousy

One of my favorite songs, the Gin Blossoms' "Hey Jealousy," came on the radio the other day as I was driving around doing mommy errands.
As I sang along, it got me thinking of a conversation Sara and I had the other day.
She asked my why I still flirt even though I'm dating Sean. She wondered if I did it to "make him jealous."
That's really juvenile behavior. I flirt, he flirts because even though we're dating, we're not dead! We still look at others, we engage others — and we trust. I'm not interested in a relationship that puts artificial limits on the other. I know my own boundaries, and I trust he knows his. We'd have a much bigger problem if we didn't.
But it made me think of the jealousy I've experienced and that I've seen among my friends. I thought of what the big porn star and her new hubby told me over dinner when I asked them how they can make their marriage work — no jealousy, they said.
But, because I think way too much, I wondered: Can jealousy ever be a good thing in love?
Some people who know of such things say, yes.
I stumbled upon a post by Paul Dobransky, author of "The Secret Psychology of How We Fall in Love."
"There is a very subtle distinction about jealousy that will help you keep a relationship that's healthy and leave one that's not," he says.
Now in dating and relationships, men and women can differ in what adds what you may call passion to their jealousy.
Because of gender instinct differences, men are passionately jealous of that which can raise up their status among men: things like status symbols, leadership positions, money, and the admiration of women. Women are passionately jealous of that which can give them a feeling of belonging, being "normal" or harmonious.
Both in men and women, this kind of "jealousy" is a good kind — it indicates masculinity or femininity, and is an INSTINCT, not something that can be eradicated or pretend it isn't there.
So when we deny what we feel or what our partner feels, it creates unnecessary tension, right?
Adam Phillips, author of "Monogamy," tells Salon a similar thing, that without jealousy in a relationship, our partner can become invisible:
Oh yes. I think there's no way around sexual jealousy, nor should we be trying to find one. I think that jealousy is inextricable from passion. What may be possible, though, is to have a different internal relationship to jealousy. Or it may be possible to bear jealousy in a less vengeful way. That, I suppose, would be one of my ideals here. Not that we would cease to be jealous, but that we would be able to bear jealousy. And that would mean really being able to acknowledge that other people are independent of our desires for them. Just like we ourselves can love and desire more than one person, so can the people we love. Now, this may be too hard an ideal. But it seems to me preferable to the alternative.
I love that: "other people are independent of our desires for them. Just like we ourselves can love and desire more than one person, so can the people we love."
Think how powerful it is to understand that about ourselves and our partner. And yet, I can see how that might make many of us feel uncomfortable.
And both of them seem to include jealousy as part of passion — and isn't it often passion that seems to slowly bleed from long-term relationships? Hmm.
How do you handle jealousy?
Do you think it plays a healthy role in a relationship?
Do you accept that your partner may feel love for more than just you?
Would your partner accept that of you?