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Showing posts from February, 2006

Pizza and porno

When did Pizza Hut become a Hooters? Have you SEEN this commercial ? It grosses me the heck out. The kid is like what, 13 years old? Jessica Simpson is a ho with obnoxious articulation. And in the version I keep seeing on TV there are muppets, yes, muppets involved as well. Miss Piggy is about to get all kung fu on Kermie if he doesn't stop looking at Jessica or the pizza or whatever the hell is being sold in this commercial. I wish Piggy'd get all kung fu on Ms. Simpson. And while she's at it she should smack the boy's parents. What the hell?! I LOVE the muppets. Why oh why have they been enslaved into selling porn...er...pizza. Jim Henson, I am so sorry your legacy has come to this. It's so sleazy getting green...

Hope-oscopes and PMS

My Hope-oscope today says "If you reach your boiling point today, don't fly off the handle! You will regret it." This is particularly helpful because today and yesterday I am in the throws of PMS. When I have PMS I get really annoyed. Like I just want to scream at the woman outside my office for any small noise she makes. She can have a Mardi Gras parade any other day and it doesn't bother me but throw in a couple of hormones and I want to strangle her for throwing away a piece of paper. Here's my theory on PMS. It sucks but sometimes it's necessary, kind of like a forest fire - you gotta burn some stuff before you can grow. Sometimes it takes raging hormones to get you to actually say things that have been bothering you for weeks, if not months. Granted, you often say them in a way that is less than productive, but at least you have let them out. I'm referring mostly to experiences within my previous relationship. It's probably not good to bust out th

Addendum to last post

Scroll down to the bottom of the truck nuts link in the last post and you'll see you can get yourself your very own antenna stripper - a plastic lady who pole dances on your car's antenna. Darned if I won't go out and trade in my antenna free car so I can have a use for this classy accessory. P.S. Hello Iceland, South Africa, Sweden, Amsetrdam and the Czech Republic!

Gonadal Truck Accessories

Have you seen these hanging from any of your friendly neighborhood testosterone laden trucks lately? Folks, I do not need to see fake plastic nut sacks while I am driving. No, scratch that, I do not need to see fake plastic nutsacks EVER. Anywhere. The first time I saw one it took me a long time to figure out what they were. I turned to my X and said, what is that? Is that boobs? What is that truck driver trying to say? My X had to tell me what they were. At first I was amused, sort of, like the first time you saw the dancing Santa or that stupid singing fish. Then I was kind of grossed out. I think I may just get a set of plastic boobies to attach to the front grill of my Forester in protest. Except I think that's stupid too.

Being Alone versus Being Lonely

Even though I find myself more alone now than I have ever been in my entire life I find myself less lonely. The worst kind of loneliness is what you feel when you are not alone, i.e. when someone else is actually physically present and yet you can't connect. I don't even know if that can be called loneliness. It's more like abandonment. I went to a 50th wedding anniversary this weekend. I learned a few things. Many of my relatives are NH hicks. As in Nascar, you wanna go out for a smoke, NH hicks. If I look as good as my Mom at 53 I will not be doing too bad. I need to stop eating like a pig if I don't want to look like my grandmother when I'm in my 70s I would have been depressed at the same event if it had been held last year. Why? Because I would have been wondering why I wasn't happy in my marriage and how I was going to last another 43 years to get to where they were.

You've enterered the Twilight Zone

As if my life is not weird enough, Friendster Guy, High School Guy, and X may all be meeting each other next week. And it's my own fault. And I'm kind of looking forward to it. Sick? Perhaps. I'm not sure why I'm excited. Maybe because they all know about each other already so this will just make it more solid and stable and everyone can just get along and move forward. I'm not sure if it is a compliment to them, to my taste, or to me that I think they will get along. Probably a combination of the three. If you're a cocky asshole, I wouldn't want to be your friend and I certainly wouldn't want to introduce you to my other friends. None of them are cocky assholes. They are all nice guys with a common thread - some sort of interest in me. Maybe that's why I'm excited, it's sort of a bizarre twisted harem. I can't help wanting to be the center of attention. I'm a Leo after all. Anyway, X and High School Guy have both requested help tappi

I'm playing hookie

That's right, I took this afternoon and tomorrow off. I haven't had a day off in awhile and I felt I needed it so I took it. Then things worked out where my sister, niece, mother and grandmother will be coming by for the day tomorrow before my mom, grandmother and I head north to a 50th Anniversary party with relatives I haven't seen since I was 5. Should be a blast. Or something. I'll at least get more people to interview for my thesis. I had a great conversation with Friendster Guy last night. I got over myself (and insecurity and fear of rejection) and finally told him about this blog (and some other stuff). His main reaction was surprise that he hadn't found it already, until I told him that it was anonymous. I told him some of the content, and how it started out as a journal of my life as a single girl and therefore chronicles the early days when we met. I said I'd be happy to let him read it but if he went into the archives he'd have to promise me he&#

Out of the mouth of babes

My neighbor, his 4 year old daughter, Friendster Guy, and I pulled into my apartment's parking lot at the same time last night. Here is what transpired. "Sassy Pants, what is it?" the 4 Year old asked me, pointing at Friendster Guy. "That's my friend Friendster Guy. It is a person." "Oh." We all went our separate ways for a moment until Neighbor knocked on my door to return something he had borrowed. His daughter likes to figure out ways to get tours of my "department" so she trotted on in and said, with no preamble: "Where does your boyfriend sleep?" Despite being mildly embarassed on two levels (One being presence of male neighbor/friend and two the use of the word "boyfriend" in front of Friendster Guy) I said "At his house." You can't exactly split sematic hairs with a four year old. Later on Friendster Guy and I were laughing and rehashing the episode and he said "Where does your boyfriend slee

Intimacy issues

Welcome to my pity party. I've entered a mild funk brought on by the sudden exit of Friendster Guy from my apartment to go fight a fire. The hazard of dating a public servant I guess. I know I shouldn't take it personally but for some reason I am. It's very stupid I know. Logically I am very happy, and even proud, that 1) he's around to go save people and their property and 2) he really enjoys his job. I wish I enjoyed mine half as much as he does. However, illogically, I'm disappointed he had to leave. I guess really that's not illogical. Disappointment is a valid response. I'm not sure exactly why I've been swept into a funk though. No, that's not true either. I'm disappointed in myself. I was trying to work up the nerve to tell him about my blog and some other topics of conversation and I just got all stupid and self-conscious instead. And then the call came for him to leave so I didn't get an opportunity to finish working up the nerve. I

When is a friend not a friend?

When is a friend not a friend? More specifically, when is a male friend not just a friend? Is it, as Harry puts it in When Harry Met Sally , impossible for men and women to be friends? I disagree. Unless of course one person just wants to be friends and the other person wants to be more than friends. But how can you tell if someone is just being friendly or if someone is being "friendly"? As you know if you have been following along and playing the Sassy Pants home game, I have decided that High School Guy is just a friend and Friendster Guy is more than a friend. Both High School Guy and Friendster Guy know about each other and the contexts of our relationships. My X is also in on this crazy loop. (Someday they are all going to be at the same place at once and my head is going to explode. But we will cross that bridge when we come to it.) Yesterday, Friendster Guy was working so I brought High School Guy to a graduate student semi-formal. We had a good time. He met a bunch o

You happy now?

My admission to the world that I hadn't vacuumed my apartment in almost 6 months horrified me (I hadn't realized it was that long until I did the math) so I broke down and pulled the vacuum out of storage. Actually, it was kind of blocking my pathway between my bedroom and the living room so it wasn't really being stored. Just ignored. The last time I used it I noticed it had totally lost suction - another reason I hadn't used it in awhile - so I had to jigger with it's rusty innards for awhile. (They aren't actually rusty, but being a Star Wars fan, the word "innards" can't help but be preceded by "rusty" As in C3PO saying "What message? The one you're carrying inside your rusty innards!" when R2D2 won't play Leah's message for Luke. Yes, I am a geek. I just hide it well more often than not. ) You don't know this about me but I'm really good at fixing stuff. Mechanical stuff. Usually I don't know exactly

Male ego runs seriously fucking amok! (Pardon my french.)

I Blame the Patriarchy linked to this article at TheSmokingGun.com. It's a must read. Once you start you won't be able to stop. Here's a brief summary. (I can't even list all the highlights because, as The Smoking Gun admits, there are just too many.) A certain Mr. Frey is a whack job and has created a Wifely Duties contract complete with the exact length to which she may trim her pubic hair, including how often, and also on which special occasions (like monthly photoshoots) she must shave even if it isn't on the schedule. She must be naked within 20 minutes of when the kids go to bed, she can only wear thong underwear (unless she's menstruating - how accommodating), and her birthday present to him must be a sex toy of some sort. You gotta love a guy who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to ask for it. "Love" in this context meaning "wrap your fingers around his throat and tightening until he stops flailing around." Mr. Frey and I wou

Goddess? Yes. Domestic Goddess? No way!

I moved into my apartment in October. Since then, I have yet to use a broom or vacuum. I just used my new (circa Oct.) iron for the first time last week and it was for a sewing project, not because my pants were too wrinkly. Pretty much the only things I'm doing are dishes (when I can't stand it anymore, run out of dishes, or someone is coming over), laundry, and cleaning the toilet. I'm very tempted to hire a maid to come in and make sure things at least get the once over once a month. I just can't be bothered. I'm not a dirty person. In fact I'm the opposite. I'm just lazy. If I can see it, it bothers me and I'll do something about it. However, being only one person and never being home because I'm too busy out socializing, nothing gets all that dirty. I'll make a horrible wife someday. : ) Which is why I think I am adopting the word partner in any new relationship. "Wife" has implications. Wifely duties and all that. When my X and I

Downsizing & Diabetes

This blog is not supposed to be about weight loss but now that I am happily entering a relationship I have been letting my good eating habits slide. That assumes of course that I had good eating habits to begin with. Trust me, I've always been good at eating. Whether what I was eating was good for me is not really up for debate. The answer is no. With Type 1 and Type 2 diabetes on both sides of my family I have to be careful about my health. A reader educational moment: Type 1 diabetes is also known as Juvenile Diabetes but can strike at any time. My father had to go to the hospital on Sept. 11, 2001. Talk about depressing -b eing hospitalized and the only thing on any channel is coverage of the terrorist attacks. Anyway, the main difference between the two types of diabetes is that in Type 1 you do not make any insulin so you are insulin dependent and must give yourself shots. My father had pancreatitis and so developed diabetes when he was in his late 40s. My mother's father

Vagina Monologues

Tonight I watched a local production of the Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler. They are put on all over the country on Valentine's Day (now reclaimed as V-Day ) to shine a spotlight on violence against women and to bring a voice to the voiceless. If you have not seen it performed, you must go see it. If you are female, it will empower you. If you are male, it will educate you (it also educates the ladies). It's a book too. A running theme throughout the monologues are questions posed by Eve Ensler to various women across the country and the world. Some answers from the show are in green. My answers are in red. How would you answer? 1) If your vagina got dressed, what would it wear? Beret, leather jacket, silk stockings, milk, a pink boa, glasses, an electroshock device to keep unwanted strangers away, sweatpants. Nothing, it would bask in the sun and get a tan. 2) If your vagina could talk, what would it say, in two words? Slow down, Feed me, I want, Yum Yum, Oh Yeah, Not Yet

Spontaneous and Heartfelt Action - or lack thereof

Dr. Nik said this in a comment to the last post - "...As for Valentines Stepping up Romance? Screw that. Romance step up isn't a day. It's a mindset....It's all about spontaneous and heartfelt action. Not About prescribed motions." Since I started to write a short comment back but then it got long I figured I 'd do a post instead. So... Dr. Nik, I agree wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, my experience has been a complete and utter lack of spontaneous and heartfelt action. I'm definitely one of those people who would scoff at Valentine's Day had I been in a relationship full of surprise romantic gestures. Alas, I was not. However, I believe I may have now entered one and I am looking forward to giving and receiving those gestures. For my Friendster Guy fans out there, here's another thing you can add to your list of "Why Sassy Pants should keep seeing Friendster Guy". (For the record, I agree). He brought me flowers yesterday, at my office, in

TMI: Nuvaring, Part Deux

Short and simple: The Nuvaring does not get in the way. In the moment it is forgotten 100%. It does however provide comic relief when you are explaining it to someone. By the way, sex is funny (not to mention funny looking). If you are not laughing at some point you're not doing it right - or with the right person. I only recently (post-X) discovered this. Then again, it could just be me. Humor is my biggest turn on. It diffuses a situation where you may be nervous, and laughing releases endorphins. Who doesn't like endorphins? P.S. Someone found my site by typing in "Malaysian gigolo office". That amuses me. Much more frightening is the person who found me by typing in "sex with under 10 year old girl movie". First, how would that lead to my site? Second, why would someone be looking for it? (I don't want to know the answer to that) And third, I hope to god he/she doesn't find what their looking for. P.P.S. Happy Valentine's Day.

Isn't it romantic?

I have been called onto the carpet by a male friend of mine who took offense (or something a little less than offense) when I said Valentine's Day was all about the ladies. He said it should be about celebrating a relationship. Yeah, yeah, maybe so. But in reality the woman wants to make sure the guy is into them and the guy wants to make sure he doesn't fuck it up. Maybe I am jaded from not having had a romantic gesture thrown my way in 10 years. Literally, when my X and I were at the end of our marriage we discussed my needs (we didn't discuss his because when I asked what they were he said he didn't have any) and one of them was romance. I mentioned he hadn't been romantic in years. X said "What about the time I gave you that flower I made out of a pencil?" "Dear," I said, "that was in 1996. Before we were married." He thought for a second and hung his head sheepishly. My point was made. I always thought I was a bad guy for that bein

"This one's for the girls who've ever had a broken heart"

In honor of all my single friends or anyone who at this moment is unhappy that everywhere they look they are reminded that their life does not include romantic fulfillment (despite the fact that their lives are fulfilled in other ways but they have to be constantly reminded of a perceived inadequacy because they do not have someone with whom to share it or if they do have someone to share it with, does not think it's worth being romantic), Happy Anti-Valentine's Day (Thank you Girl With a One Track Mind ) The level of romance that I will be experiencing is yet to be seen. I did send an email to Friendster Guy making a Valentine's Day proclamation. The Proclamation: No matter what we are doing or where we are going, I will not be cooking on Valentine's Day. End of proclamation. I wanted to make that clear since I had invited him over to my place for the evening that day. I do not want to set up any precedent in case there are more Valentine's Days together in our fu

He said, she said

I just had the strangest, weirdest, most odd and yet wonderful conversation anyone has ever had with their recently ex-husband ever. I've already told you our divorce was amicable. We've now crossed the line from from amicable to best friends forever territory. But not in an 'I want to get back together' way. More like he's a really good friend who I tell stuff about my relationships to and he does the same. Only until December 1 we were married so it's very strange to be talking about what we talked about. Today he came over to my place so we could exchange music files and both have our complete CD collection. Then we went to get my kayak from our old condo place. We had to use a hack saw because neither of us could find the right key to the lock. All we were missing were black ski masks. We totally could have been arrested if someone gotten the wrong idea. We laughed and talked and the conversation turned to new relationships. Over lunch we discussed me and Fr

I is po'!

With my surprise tax bill of $700 I decided to look into my finances to see just how well I am doing. Turns out not as well as my recent spending sprees would lead me to believe. People, why didn't you tell me money doesn't grow on trees? I am a fiscally responsible person. Nay, I used to be a fiscally responsible person. Nay again, I used to be a fiscally anal-retentive person with serious non-spending issues. You've heard of buyer's remorse? I used to have it before I even got to the store. I went to college with $100 cash. I had leftover cash when I entered my second semester. That's right. I didn't even spend $100 my entire first 14 weeks of college. So, my recent, less anal-retentive, spending habits are actually a good thing in the grand scheme of things. And my spending sprees really aren't that bad as spending sprees go. Just a little more than should have been happening perhaps. Interestingly enough I am not stressed. You know why? I think it's

My Funny Valentine

You know what I've learned? I've learned that honesty and cheesiness go a long way. So does asking for what you want. When you ask a man if he will be your Valentine, there is no better response than this: "I will certainly be your Valentine!" Gosh I like that Friendster Guy.

A bunch of stuff

1) Still no date for Valentine's Day but I plan to email Friendster Guy today about it. (Addendum since I started drafting this post. I have very cheesily asked Friendster Guy via email to be my Valentine. Don't worry, it was preceded by text letting him know I was ok keeping VDay low key and just another day but that I wanted to spend it with him whether we celebrated or not.) 2) I owe $700 in taxes. Bolux! So much for my vacation plans. I have recently gotten an offer to go to Japan while a friend is there this summer. I have always regretted not going to China and Africa when I had friends living there so I may just take him up on it. It might be worth a little credit card debt. 3) I recently changed the "I'd like to meet people for" section of my profiles on MySpace and Friendster to no longer include Dating or Relationships. Why do I still get messages from people like this? Note: I believe "arrnest" means "honest" in this context. "I

TMI re: Nuvaring

Let's just state right up front that this post is going to contain too much information. It's about birth control, the prescription kind. Any modern straight gal must think about it unless they like playing russian roulette with their ovaries. (Thanks N for correcting my previously heterocentric sentence.) There is nothing fun about birth control except that you can kind of have sex without freaking out that you may get pregnant. Of course you may get pregnant anyway (joy! rapture!) simply because the gods are not smiling upon you and you are the one in 100 for whom the statistics suck. Pros of birth control: You are less likely to get pregnant. Sometimes your skin clears up. Less severe cramping. You have control of your own destiny, sort of. Cons of birth control: If you are on the pill you have to remember to take it every day. Sometimes, as in my case, it can make you think you are bipolar, even at a low dose. It's just a general pain in the rear end that makes you par

Hope-oscopes

I don't usually put too much stock in horoscopes. They're pretty much gobbledegook until they tell you what you want to hear. If however, they inspire someone to make a much needed career or mate switch I'm all for them. Marie Claire put out a Horoscope Special a few months back giving everyone their predictions for the year. Here's what they said about my love life. LEO - Your Love Life: "If you're single, you will meet a new lover in an atypical way. At first you may not feel an attraction, but be patient. This year will also be about letting go of old fantasies and tumultuous feelings so you can heal." The first part is dead on. Can you say Friendster Guy? I met and hit on him via Friendster and our first date was the day my divorce was final. I'd count that as atypical. Also, at first I thought we didn't have any chemistry. Then he turned on the flirt and it's all good. Plenty of chemistry now. The second part? I'm not sure about the

Valentine's Day: It ain't for sissies

I'm sure when Valentine's Day started out it was a really good idea (and not just for card companies). I still think that in theory it is a very good idea. What's not to like about a day when romance is the theme? Well, the problem is interpreting not only what romance is, but what your significant other interprets as romance. And if you don't have a significant other, forget it. Here's an article entitled Why I Hate Valentine's Day . My last Valentine's Day was spent hosting a 5 hour Dungeons and Dragons Game at our home (I went shopping for most of it and was then banished to the second floor like Rapunzel). After the orcs, trolls, and wizards had departed we went out to dinner somewhere I had made reservations. The odd thing was that the majority of the D&D players were also married. Did none of them realize it was Valentine's Day? Did none of them realize that there is one day a year for you to step up the romance - especially if you never do s

Diamonds (and vacations) are a girl's best friend

When you are married and planning to take a vacation by yourself you feel adventurous and even scandalous. I heard a lot of "What?! You're going without your husband?" when I went to Europe and Africa a few years ago. When you are single and planning to take a vacation by yourself you feel pathetic. It's the difference between choosing to be on your own and not having a choice. I am turning 30 this year. I want to go somewhere cool to celebrate. Anybody want to go on vacation with me? I will be coming into a little bit of money sometime in the nearish future. I am in the process of selling my engagement ring. It's actually quite hard to feel good about it. Especially since I know what it cost to buy and I'm only getting a third of that by putting it on consignment. I go back and forth on the pros and cons of doing so. The pro is that I'll get some money with which I can turn the memory of my marriage into a new one on vacation. The con is that sometimes we

And you may ask yourself

I own a book called The Book of Questions . I have purchased this book several times for people just about to enter a marriage. I don't think it helped mine at all but it's an interesting book nonetheless. It makes you think. If you answer the questions with someone else it makes you wonder what they hell they are thinking and if you can possibly be compatible. Maybe it isn't the best book to buy for couples starting out afterall. Here's a sample at random: #77 Do you feel ill at ease going alone to either dinner or a movie? What about going on a vacation by yourself? It's funny that this was the question I picked (and yes, it was at random). I think for a long time I was in training to be a single woman. I went to the movies by myself - once my X and I went to the theater together and then saw different movies. That didn't work out so well as they were different lengths and he had to wait awhile for me to get out. And then he sighed like it was my fault my mov

A recap for those new to Big Girl Underoos

In 200 words, more or less. I am a 29 year old divorcee (who cannot figure out how to include accents in her blog). I was on a dating frenzy during the months of December and January after having been married since I was 21. I have slowly and only recently narrowed down my relationship choices to one person, ironically the first person I went on a date with on the day my divorce was final. His name, for our purposes here, is Friendster Guy. He has many things in common with my X including name and many major upbringing things such as he is from NJ, an only child, and was raised catholic. He is nothing like my X in most all other ways. The biggest one being that he actually wants to spend time with me. I also often mention High School Guy. He graduated with me but I did not meet him until 11 years post-graduation when his brother started working in my office. (The world is a very, very small place. Watch yourself.) High School Guy and I had a little fling but he has a commitment issue a

I've arrived! And other stuff.

I've been linked to via Technorati to my post on the bathroom assaults. Unfortunately I have also been found by someone searching for "ladies fuck young boys" Ewww. I can assure you there is nothing like that in this blog. Nor will there ever be. I had lunch with High School Guy today. I am slowly letting him know that I am seeing Friendster Guy. I don't want to say flat out "Dude, I have a boyfriend" because, for one, I don't know if that's exactly true and for another, I am cultivating a friendship with High School Guy. If he is to be my friend he needs to hear the same things about Friendster Guy that my other friends do. Which is mostly me giggling about how cute/nice/sweet/understanding he is. I've toned it down somewhat to take into account that High School Guy (HSG) is a male and doesn't need quite as much giggling as my gal pals do. So far it's working out pretty well. HSG thinks it's cool that I'm seeing someone. And I t

And you thought trade magazines were boring.

From the Chronicles of Higher Education, a Dear Abbyesque article on academics dating. This describes my ex (an academic soon to be a professor somewhere) to a T. "Ms. Mentor suspects that academics distrust the idea of fun. They tend to be introverts, and academe allows people to be nerds for their entire lives. Scholars are supposed to be strong and individualistic, without emotional needs. Some grow so used to lecturing that they utterly forget how to listen -- and so they lose out on one of the wickedest and most delightful activities ever invented. Ms. Mentor urges all frustrated romantics to do what she does so well: close mouth, open eyes, hunker down, and begin eavesdropping." I'd like to think I am "strong and individualistic", but I am so no longer at the expense of my emotional needs. I had to learn that "need" is not a four letter word. "Needy" is, but there is a difference between the two. ----------------------------------------

It's ok to be vulnerable

In my fourth or fifth post to this blog, way back in October, I said I want someone to touch me like they meant it. Last night Friendster Guy did just that and I started to cry. We were lying in bed doing that pre-sleep snuggle when you're hands are just kind of wandering lightly with no goal in mind and he started to stroke my hair and run his finger down my face. And all of a sudden there was a crack in the wall I had put up for so long to protect myself from the lack of intimacy in my marriage. My eyes teared up and I got very quiet. He noticed right away but let me show him in my own time, just in case I didn't want him to know. "Are you ok?" he asked, looking me in the eyes through the dark. "Yeah... I don't know what my deal is." I shook my head against his chest. I struggled with wanting to tell him everything I was thinking and my inability to spit it out. "It's just that...I'm not used to tenderness." A pause while I hid anoth

I'm not saying I have a boyfriend but...

...the closest thing I have to a boyfriend at the moment, Friendster Guy, is taking me out this evening to the theater. HMS Pinafore by Gilbert & Sullivan as a matter of fact. Since I had no idea this show was happening in my area when he invited me I wonder how much thought he put into the date. Did he see the ad and think, G ee, I'd really like to see a Gilbert and Sullivan production ? Or did he think, Gee, Sassy Pants likes musicals, I wonder if she'd like to see a Gilbert and Sullivan production ? Either way, he gets bonus points because 1) it's a Gilbert and Sullivan production, and 2) he invited me. In fact, he invited me a week beforehand. Bonus points again for forethought. So far, my sister and a friend of mine have both given me Seriously? looks when I told them what I was going to this evening. I'm not sure if the look was a reaction to their disinterest in seeing a G&S show or their curiosity/disbelief as to why a guy would. I don't really car

Betcha your guidance counselor never told you about this career path

N and I went to the bookstore yesterday and purchased ourselves copies of the book The Good Girls Guide to Bad Girl Sex. For $5 why the hell not? (A tiny sample for the curious.) I also bought Little Women, The Secret Gar den, and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban in spanish. (I want to see if I can improve my language skills using a story I already know.). All for under $10. So, I'm reading the introduction of the Bad Girl Sex book and the author is saying she is uniquely qualified to write this book because she used to be a "good girl" and now knows what is necessary to become a bad girl because she was trained and worked as a surrogate partner . What is a surrogate partner you ask? It sure as hell isn't something your parents would have wanted you to aspire to be. I find it absolutely fascinating that this is someone's job. On the one hand I'm shocked and appalled. On the other, I think it's pretty cool. We hire people for all the other things

Beast of Burden

Read this only after you've read the last few posts so you know the context within which I share this. It's a non-fiction story I wrote a year or so ago. Beast of Burden As a high school senior, everyday after lunch I would head down the hall in the opposite direction of most everyone else. Our high school was so large it required two cafeterias and three different lunches. I'd walk by the smaller cafeteria and past the gaudy orange entrance to the men's locker room where various groups would often congregate. In the empty corridors that most students never entered except during special events, I'd navigate past the janitorial storage area, the school's TV studio, the theater and finally arrive at the band room. The band room was my homeroom, my study hall location and where I spent the middle of the day, playing my clarinet with the band. I'll readily admit that I was a band geek. President of the band for two years running, thank you very much. My school w