I had a serious conversation with a associate, who according to her next day thank you message, was able to understand and make sense of my many thoughts which flowed through the phone to her ears - as back and forthed, muffled, and groggy as they were. I'm truly concerned because I have no idea what was said to her.
Hey -- as long as she feels better right? She wanted it raw, and since she called at 2:00 a.m. that’s what she got.
Once off the line an hour later, instead of returning to a full fat man snore, in came the clarity I wasn’t able to give to her – just in time to ask myself.
Oh sh*t. Me thinking clearly at 3:00 a.m.?? Hide the women and children!!
I get to look at the obvious. No spin. No twists.
What the f*ck do I want? Why do I bother dating? Who the f*ck are these people? I then narrowed it down to questions one and two.
I wondered what many really want to gain from dating.
I mean, most people say/think they want to gain meaningful relationships from dating, but is that REALLY what is wanted?
When we are younger we may date for fun, because he/she is physically attractive, great in bed, has a certain status, has nice things, blah blah blah.
We scratch the surface.
Once older, we may look at income, mental/physical attraction, ability in bed, status in business or in social circles, has nice things, blah blah, blah.
Pretty much the same, but on different levels – right?
If we think this way, and are spending time sniffing around for beyond surface relationships, maybe – just maybe, we are not quite ready for what we think we want/are entertaining. We complain about people not “keeping it real” but many of us should really point the finger at Self.
Never ever ever ever will we be satisfied because if we don’t want what we say/think we want.
If still in the surface stage – fine, but we should act accordingly and not go above and beyond to create an image otherwise. It’s our time and energies and we should do what we feel most comfortable doing – screw what others think, as long as the relationships are not harmful for anyone.
BUT – we should not remain in a surface stage if we KNOW we really want more than fun and surface relationships. If its true committed companionship we want, an image should show otherwise, or we will be rightfully treated accordingly --- and, that’s NOT an easy gear to shift from once in motion.
I don’t think everyone is made for beyond surface relationships and if things are forced to enter these types of relationships, the bitterness of settling begins.
However it goes, and whatever you KNOW, not think you want, don’t spend your time/monies dating without understanding of what you do or do not want from relationships.
There MUST be an endpoint.
Set the right course.
Know what you want in your life at that moment, and let it be known what you want in the start of your relationships, as delicately as possible, but known nonetheless – the person it scares away may likely be the very person you should avoid.
Be safe. Be fun. Happy whoring folks!!!
I just neutered my dog.
Now he’s a liberal.
*snicker*
*slapping my knee laughing*
In most of animal kingdom, the dominant or alpha male is only good for breeding and s*x. This might explain why some women (mostly rebel and younger types) are naturally attracted to these types. They just want a good banging – mentally and/or physically.
Issue for someone such as myself: Many alpha males have avoidant personalities (hypersensitive to rejection, unwilling to become involved with others unless they are sure of being liked, fear of criticism, fearful of saying something considered foolish by others; blah blah blah), and a secure person such as myself wont put up with their sh*t.
*but damn it feels great to have an alpha male in your kitchen wearing an apron - sigh*
Another issue for someone such as myself: I have a few drops – okay, a bit more than a few drops of rebel still, though I consider myself secure first, rebel second (depending on which face I am wearing) and many of my faces want a good banging too.
*snicker *
Granted, I truly believe the more self-confident males SHOULD be at the top of the pile and more less-confident at the bottom, but I also believe female humans should try following the lead of some other mammals, separate the piles, and just keep em around for the breeding and screwing.
Let’s consider using them for what nature intended.
Theory: Some women look for security in relationships and the strength of these types outweighs the cons for some of those women…
*shrug*
We know from nature that it’s the tendancy of the alpha male to seek out as many partners as they can – many even while in committed relationships - including marriage.
We know they are the risk takers.
Impulsive.
Ah – but leaders they are, and you can smell their strength like perfumed sh*t. Who can stand the smell of sh*t for more than a few minutes? Or are those really pheromones we smell?
Whatever the scent, what we must remember is their mindset.
Conquest.
Conquest.
Conquest.
I’m labeling a new container “Good for Screwing/Kitchen Shows” and filling it up with the greedy, smelly little b*stards. Lid on extra tight. Pad locked on both sides. I’ll just keep em around in case I go through another whorish stage or a waste a bit of energy stage -- or even better, just in case I want a nice kitchen show (and I do have aprons in almost every size and color).
Yes. Another container indeed -- airtight.
I thought a 3-level house was a great idea, but was I ever wrong. I really miss apartment life. I want to call a 24-hour maintenance number and insist they show up immediately for my quick and fast free repairs.
The bathroom plumbing on the 2nd floor was replaced last year – after extensive damage was done to the first floor.
We have broken 3 washing machines in the past 5 years – two of the 3 times, due to the “malfunction” (also known as overloading) extensive damage was done to the 1st floor. Whose bright f*cking idea was it to place the washer on the second floor anyways?
The kitchen ceiling has been replaced twice due to water issues on the 2nd floor.
The ceiling in the dining room has been replaced 3 times due to water issues on the 2nd floor. We currently are organizing new ceiling install #4 (after HVAC repairs are done) because, so I was told, of either a backup in the HVAC drain pipe or a rusted catch pan for the water run off -- this, of course caused new water damage to the living room ceiling.
I have been told my HVAC system is in the closet upside down – whatever the f*ck that means. Whenever someone comes over to repair the unit (quite often) they go and make whomever is waiting in the van take a look at the unit and comment they don’t understand why its that way and how it still works. Whose bright f*cking idea was it to place the HVAC on the second floor anyways – upside down or right side up.
The ceiling in the 1st floor bathroom has been replaced due to water issues on the 2nd floor.
The heat is not distributed properly to the 3rd floor – luckily I like it a bit warmer up there (probably because the HVAC is installed upside down).
The hot water heater was replaced last year.
The commode on floor 3 clogs constantly.
We are on garbage disposal #2.
The dishwasher is not working because of some copper piping behind the unit.
My tool kit at home consists of a wrench from Ikea, a few wood screws, pliers, flat head screwdriver small enough for my computer, flashlight, lots of duct tape, and a telephone to call for help.
I had a hammer but I haven’t been able to find it for over a year. I think it’s in the trunk of my car from my road rage days.
I sat at my coffee table reading a book when a bit of water once again ran down (cant wait until next week for repairs – or can I??) and said fugg it. I’m gonna fix this myself. I turned off all power to the house(since I was shocked the last time I touched some wires behind the plate on my HVAC trying to place the plate in its proper place after work guys left the sh*it off and it took me a week to notice – by then I had freezer ice covering my unit and water everywhere -- I couldn’t hold my hand straight for several hours), shoved a flashlight in my cleavage, took a disposable cookie sheet I bent in half and shoved it in the space where there is possibly a lack of a proper catch pan for the condensation run off. I used lots of duct tape to keep it in place.
I haven’t seen a leak on the first floor since. I think I can fix a few of the other things as well. Sh*t – maybe I have a future in being a Miss Fix It.
I still miss apartment life, but move over Bob Villa – here I come!
The only thing sexier than a man wearing an apron is a man wearing an apron and holding a broom while standing in my kitchen after preparing a great meal.
*That’s right daddy. Clean the kitchen after you cook for me while I sit and relax with a full belly – and let’s keep this wine glass filled…and turn to the game please - snicker*
Hey – don’t get me wrong -- I love to cook when feeling happy and fulfilled in certain ways. Nine times out of ten I’m gaining 10-15 pounds when in the right “certain ways” situations because I'm just so damned happy.
:-)
Issue – “certain ways” situations are far and few. Men with great skill sets AND a fully loaded tool belt are far and few.
I have no issue preparing five course dinners, packing a lunch, and preparing a hot breakfast even – those “certain ways” situations will drive me in that direction almost every time BUT only for a man who has big kahunas, can bake a mean snicker doodle, and sear some lamb chops... and has great skill sets AND a fully loaded tool belt.
Very few men are the full package I speak of -- no doubt.
Most men can grill, but I'm talking kitchen folks. The kitchen is what really counts. Work with good old gas or electric and a full set of caphalon while I sit and watch minus the mosquitoes.
I can get real pretty and pink and even at times appear almost submissive in public… to the naked eye, but when the day closes, the man for me has his arse and huge balls (and fully loaded tool belt) in the kitchen wearing a nice apron “whipping” up something nice.
*cook for me Daddy and perfect the wine pairing and I’m all yours*
Yes Daddy, you are da man --now get your arse in the kitchen!!
My Ramblings/Early Week Brain Dump...
A quiet weekend this was. I parked my car on Friday and didn’t leave the house OR move the car again until the Monday a.m. departure for work. I ate and lounged my way through the weekend, eating more in the past two days than I have in the past two weeks. I also dusted off and opened a few decent bottles for my in time.
And a very nice in time it was.
Friday, I hurried home to grill steaks, veggies, and potatoes over a hardwood fire. I was in the mood for a heavy meal. The porterhouse was of good quality so no flavorings or tenderizers were needed, though I was tempted to use a North African ancho chile rub. The veggies were fresh string beans, grilled with a little sea salt and olive oil. I fought back my urge to make polenta and instead grilled a few potatoes, mashed them skin on with a little fresh garlic, chicken stock, freshly ground black pepper, and waaaay too much butter. A few glasses of Pine Ridge 01 Rutherford Cabernet made for a relaxed evening. I sat down for a minute at awakened the next morning.
I know – now is about the time to get my arse back in the gym… but not just yet.
Saturday, I took the time to pan roast some Peruvian coffee beans, quickly ground and had a beautiful cup. Almost orgasmic. I then munched on Virginia Peanuts and several servings of Chinese egg noodles flavored with fresh basil and chicken stock all day long, while watching several Netflix films, including a psychological thriller suggested by my 12-year old (I was scared sh*tless, but pretended to be just fine). Another film of interest was Theloneuis Monk – Straight Up, No Chaser. Drank about a gallon of water. I sat down for a minute and awakened the next morning.
Sunday morning, a friend came over with some French roast/chicory blend coffee and a French Press. It was an experience. A very strong experience. We had a cup and conversation, and then I lounged around a bit. A few hours later, my daughter awakened, and made eggs and wheat toast topped with butter and old-style apple butter. I reintroduced myself to the wild and crazy world of reality TV. I honestly had no idea Miss Whitney was so... er... ah... unpolished; Miss Dickinson was so... er... ah... f*ggin looney; Real World has become so boring; or that Miss Brittney’s husband was so... er... ah... urban and either love sick or the best arse kisser on the planet… or several planets. I also got a full dose of History Channel – the history of executions, followed by the history of how the west was “won”. ...And, of course Nigella is as sexy as ever -- setting the Food Network channel afire.
Sunday lunch was Thai rice noodles mixed with a stir-fry of fish sauce, tomato paste, chili powder, Emeril’s Louisiana Shrimp (don’t waste your time/money on this one folks) string beans, green onion, garlic, and bean sprouts garnished with lime wedges and cilantro. Several glasses of Trimbach 02 Gewurtraminer allowed me to laugh out loud at “reality” TV. My daughter didn’t really care for the stir-fry but loved the rice noodles.
...and the coffee had me buzzing still.
Sunday dinner was a plain and simple Jamaican Peas & Rice with Gungo peas, butter, pork stock, coconut milk, garlic, curry, scallions, thyme and rice. No meat.
Monday morning breakfast was a nice English breakfast tea with milk and sugar, toast, bacon, and eggs.
Question: Does anyone still care about Baby Face Edmonds? He was the Good Morning America performer, but I didn’t realize he was still around.
Anyways...
My relaxation was almost halted by a simple phone call which served as a reminder of why I stopped speaking with someone several months ago. Why even try when you KNOW someone is on a totally different page? I really have to ALWAYS remember how most men are communicatively challenged (another post to follow) and should just sit and look pretty. Or just do very nice things instead.
*sigh*
Recoup. Head shake. And a mad dash out of the door.
It appears that I am in cook and chill mode once again. I just completed paperwork to return to the gym next week to balance things off a bit.
It’s been a while since I’ve stayed in, cooked, and lounged about for an entire weekend – but you know what they say --- you can’t keep a good wh*re down --- and this Food Wh*re has been turning tricks since 1992.
Off to the market I go... wearing stilettos.
Move over Secret Sh*tter – there is a new nasty arse in town. Miss or Mrs. Rotten Crotch is the name.
Less than a week at my new/old gig and already, I’ve been defiled by a beyond foul stench in the restroom – it invaded my nostrils and I’ve been fighting the urge to scratch since running from the scene.
Here is what happened -- I sat down to take my regularly scheduled dump in the nice roomy handicapped (need space to get nekkid before I take a dump) stall and soon after noticed a pair of nice Aldo sandals enter the stall beside me (a pair I eyed in Georgetowne a few weeks ago). I heard a small stream of pee hit the toilet water, and to follow was a smell -- a mixture of sulfur, sewage plant air, bad breath, cat pee, and sweat socks. Something absolutely positively died several years ago in my stall neighbor’s tw*t and she has yet to have it removed.
I’ve brushed my tongue and teeth several times since leaving the ladies room.
I can still smell it. I may have lost nose hairs even.
I'm certain my hair needs a good washing after this exposure.
I thought the Secret Sh*tter and the stench of the “doginussy” (the smell of dog shit, gin [pine tree], and wolf p*ssy) was bad, but today, I caught a whiff of Miss or Mrs. Rotten Crotch and found myself unarmed – no Febreeze in sight/reach.
I have no name for this smell.
I am gagging and wish I could get my hands on the stuff used to lessen smells while examining corpses.
I'm absolutely positively done.
...and leaving for the day.
See Original Secret Sh*tter Post for Secret Sh*tter background information.
Hello my name is Me and I am coffee addict.
I recently tried to replace with Diet Coke. It just didn’t work for me.
I love the taste of coffee.
I love the smell of coffee.
I love how ingesting coffee allows me to function on a mere 3 hours of sleep.
I love how coffee makes me appear more pleasant than I actually feel most mornings.
I love Ethiopian coffee. I love Sumatran coffee. I love Italian espresso. I love Kenyan coffee. I love Turkish coffee. I love Strong’s Coffee Cookies (concentrated coffee equal to one cup of coffee in each cookie)
I’m down from about a pot a day now, so I am getting better.
During the work week, I take it with the extras in the morning to take off the edge a bit -- triple grande latte in the morning gets me going. A plain double espresso shot late afternoon keeps me going. If I work from home evenings, a nice cup of strong black does the trick.
Weekends – plain, black, and hot is how I love it. Good coffee at home needs no extras.
Someone requested I go straight to a meeting this morning before having my coffee.
I had to enlighten them. I informed them that in 1453, Turkish law held that a woman could divorce her husband if he failed to provide her with her daily coffee quota.
I then added that while I am not Turkish, married to anyone at the office, and it's not 1453 -- there was no way in hell I’d be there without my morning fix.
First fit at new/old gig.
…Another day with several cups of coffee to come.
In the true tradition of my family, as much as I like to blame others -- in this case, I take blame totally.
It’s my fault.
I just can’t help myself.
My realization of grandeur pushes me to let some people know just how much better than they am I. Or just how lesser they are than most.
Today?
Having left my current position for 6 months and just returned two days ago, many were surprised to see me again – including a guy who is relentless about getting to know me outside of the office – of course, so far, to no avail.
He was exiting the elevator with a few other guys (one visiting and quite attractive) and insisted I give my stance (on something political) and then went into full explanation of his personal views (while the attractive guy and I acknowledged one another).
Once he was done, I explained that I am not exactly Miss Current affairs nowadays, but from what he shared, it may have been the first time in the two years I’ve known him that he has remotely made any sense.
Total silence from all. Smirks all about. His face was tighter than an ant’s p*ssy.
*When will I find a doctor to sew up this f*cking mouth of mine?*
It was totally unnecessary, but he left the door wide open. He will have to regain his manhood one ounce at a time.
Let’s see what tomorrow brings.
Ah. Welcome back me!!
We are expected to make bad choices when young, but it’s not really clear when the cross over to instant “know how” should happen.
When does young end?
Is it an age? Is it once gainfully employed? Is it once we have children? Is it once married? Life changing events???
For many, “know better” happens in the late 20’s, but, when does “know how” kick in?
I mean, if we are allowed or expected to make a series of mistakes in youth, we should learn from mistakes and “know better” moving forward, but some folks just never get the “know how” to “do the “right thing” as adults.
Some of us don’t understand.
Some of us are too lazy for change.
Some of us don’t care.
We all understand that it’s highly probable that bad choices bring will bring about bad consequences.
*visions of the kid from Christmas Story – with his tongue stuck on the pole*
It’s best to always make the most out of life… but er ah
Why can’t we brake when we should? Why are so many impulsive? Why are so many moving forward knowing a brick wall is ahead?
It’s just not easy getting rid of old demons and avoiding bad decisions.
Yesterday...very interesting. Productive work day. Half rack of ribs from Chadwicks for lunch. Happy hour at Ritz Carlton. Dinner at La Perla. Second happy hour at Smith and Wollensky. Night cap at Mei N Yu. Drop by at Wonderland just to say hello to my neighbors – no drinks there.
I went home and noticed my dog sprawled out on my couch – legs open. She got up and stretched out when she heard my footsteps towards the door. Yup – she pulled another MacGyver and made her way to the couch. I noticed she was a bit groggy and thought a nice long walk might be nice. As we walked past Wonderland, a few folks came out to see talk to me and my dog was not happy about it. She was very unpleased with the strong Irish guy who was a bit more friendly towards me than the others.
He went on and on about how he has aggressive breed dogs and is an expert.
I told him part of why I am single is that the dog hates men and wont allow them in the house.
I asked everyone to NOT touch my b*tch.
He was huggy and kissy with me and then bent over towards my b*tch, and before I could pull back on her chain, she bit him right on the kisser.
We were all shocked.
She didn’t break the skin.
She sat back down calmly and looked up at me as if to say – …see what you made me do?? Now take me home before I bite his arse again…
One again, the b*tch prevails. She really gave him something to kiss.