My sleeping patterns have been really strange over the past month. I've found myself waking a lot in the middle of the night. And having issues falling back asleep. I've also been having the most realistic and vivid dreams I've ever had. Two in particular which haunted me the next day.
The first was a few weeks ago and in it I was pregnant. I know most women have pregnant dreams...and I also know there is no way I could be pregnant. But I woke up feeling pregnant. And I continually found myself thinking back to that dream. And while I don't have any idea what it feels like to be pregnant, it sure felt real...that dream was creepy.
And then last night...last night was intense. It was a fight...a fight that exploded into a kiss. The jealousy was uncomfortable, the anger releasing, the hatred righteous and the lust strong. It was quite tasty in general. And all those feelings are still sitting in my belly...it was so realistic that I feel the fall-out the next day.
This is all interesting to me in a dozen ways. And I have theories as to why my sleep patterns have changed...and why I had a baby with no father....and why I had that explosive kiss with a particular person. And for 2008 I want those theories to no longer be possibilities. I want them to be fact. Or complete fiction.
2008 will be the year that doesn't suck ass (courtesy of Al).
Or for me, the year of action over analysis.
Showing posts with label sexy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sexy. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
Crack o' dawn...
So I'm up at the crack of dawn, to see my friend "maybe I'm jewish" Janet off to her residency interview. I haven't updated this piece o' crap for quite some time. The lull after NaBloPoMo or post-kitchen lackadaisicalness? You be the judge (and yes, I did pull out a big word at 7am. I'll go ahead and pat myself on the back).
Here's what's been happening:
Here's what's been happening:
- I did, in fact, step all over the wet varnishy kitchen floor. I was pissed and horribly, rottenly entitled. On the first two steps my shoe stuck and the third step I slid in a pool of varnish...and then I panicked, grabbed a fork and back tracked. I didn't ruin the floor all that badly. The one spot that is noticeable is actually a sock mark at the very edge - from where I had to lean to use the microwave.
- I finished some baby socks and gave them away (pictures at the end of the post). I was also commanded to start making those socks for my friend's unborn babies. That she isn't going to start having until she is 30. Which is 5 years away. What she doesn't realize is that those tiny little socks are a pain in the ass to make and she'll be lucky if she gets one pair.
- Lot of emailing to Canada. Then a phone call to the burbs. Welcome back to Chicagoland Al.
- Christmas shopping and the like...
- Figuring out what my chances are to hit it on New Years (I'm going to go with...7 to 1. And by hit it, I mean something tame like...make out). Apparently I'm going to be forced into a shopping trip with "baby sock commander" friend where I will be forced to try on humiliating hootchie shirts so that I can show off the ample cleavage. But like "maybe I'm jewish" friend states: they're there - it's not like anyone is going to miss them. Why sluttify myself? Let's struggle with that one shall we? Because apparently I would have a better chance with men if I wore tighter clothes (courtesy of "baby sock commander" and husband). But what they don't understand is - I don't want to be that girl. If you only like me because my shirt is tight and my boobs are large then fuck off.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Long and winding post...
So here's the substantive post that I was planning for Friday. I'm not sure where to start, so let's just all accept that this is going to involve rambling and then I won't have to worry about it and I can move on. On Friday (or at some point last weekend) I was supposed to get together with an old friend. It fell through - probably due to equal amounts of busy-ness and reluctance. The planned get-together got me thinking though - about the nature of friendship between female & male.
I believe, in the past if you would have asked me, I would have firmly stood on the side of "men and women can just be friends! I've done it before!". I was silly. And wrong. I doubt the ability to have an entirely platonic relationship between a straight woman and a straight man. I concede that I've had friends, more like acquaintances who were entirely platonic. But here, here I'm talking good friends. Let's stroll down memory lane (I realized earlier, that all of my closest guy friends have had first initials that start with J or R. That's weird yes? Going for last initials here):
C was my bff for a very, very long time. Middle school through parts of high school and stretching a tiny bit into college. We were on again/off again best friends. I still miss him occasionally and dream about him often. In fact, I dreamt of him last night - I greeted him by fluffing his hair and just felt love. Our friendship started with him asking me out. I think I still have the note somewhere - it was the sweetest note ever. I said no. We went on to be friends. We had mutual attraction pretty much throughout our friendship and almost made out more than once. I used to make him hold my hand walking places. I miss C, but there was nothing platonic about that friendship. Not at any point.
Then there was B. Please don't find me conceited...but B desperately loved me. And I loved B, I just wasn't in love with B. Oh god how I tried - I wanted to be in love with him. He was perfect for me. But when you don't want to make out with someone? That's a problem. B and I were inseparable for a long time - probably an entire summer if not more than that. We kept in touch for a while and then it fell off again. We tried to get together and be friends a few years back - but something was lost. I think we'd both changed too much - and our friendship dynamic was impossible to recreate (why would he want to? I mean, unrequited love can't be fun). B once told me that if he had to, he would wait for me forever. Clearly he didn't. I totally have the IM transcript somewhere (yes, that was an IM conversation) and I promise to find it and embarrass self in the future with that conversation.
N was probably one of the friendships where I personally still think it's up in the air whether there was something non-platonic. I think everyone who knew us might sputter and say, um, hello, yes he loved you. But out of all of them, this one was the most platonic. N drove me crazy in a lot of ways - and ultimately our friendship ended after I was forced to spend all day every day with him for over a week. But we had fun and we spent a lot of time just talking. I was friends with N when I was really getting to know myself and I would be different if not for that friendship. He was the one I was supposed to see on Friday. I hope to stay friendly with him for a long time.
And finally W. W wasn't a normal best friend - we were mostly friends due to school and due to our mutual friendship with C. But in the end, that was enough to be close to him. And out of all of them, W was the one that I loved unrequitedly. All of my memories of him are just of us laughing our asses off. We spent a lot of study groups frustrating others with our uselessness and I almost got kicked out of my AP Calculus test because of him (he traced his hand on his test. I laughed out loud. I was chastised and told to look at my own test/be quiet or both of us would get the boot. Just FYI - he did better on that test than I did). I think way back when, I never would have considered him a best friend. But in retrospect, he was. I'd love to see that kid again. And pine for him from afar.
For some reason, I thought all of those friendships were successful. And they were in their own way - I mean, these are people I loved/think of fondly. But it's impossible to keep that kind of thing going - because someone is always suffering in silence and hoping for more. And I think there is a breaking point. Or just a fading point...
After much thought, out of all of my besties, none of us has done it successfully. Not a one.
I believe, in the past if you would have asked me, I would have firmly stood on the side of "men and women can just be friends! I've done it before!". I was silly. And wrong. I doubt the ability to have an entirely platonic relationship between a straight woman and a straight man. I concede that I've had friends, more like acquaintances who were entirely platonic. But here, here I'm talking good friends. Let's stroll down memory lane (I realized earlier, that all of my closest guy friends have had first initials that start with J or R. That's weird yes? Going for last initials here):
C was my bff for a very, very long time. Middle school through parts of high school and stretching a tiny bit into college. We were on again/off again best friends. I still miss him occasionally and dream about him often. In fact, I dreamt of him last night - I greeted him by fluffing his hair and just felt love. Our friendship started with him asking me out. I think I still have the note somewhere - it was the sweetest note ever. I said no. We went on to be friends. We had mutual attraction pretty much throughout our friendship and almost made out more than once. I used to make him hold my hand walking places. I miss C, but there was nothing platonic about that friendship. Not at any point.
Then there was B. Please don't find me conceited...but B desperately loved me. And I loved B, I just wasn't in love with B. Oh god how I tried - I wanted to be in love with him. He was perfect for me. But when you don't want to make out with someone? That's a problem. B and I were inseparable for a long time - probably an entire summer if not more than that. We kept in touch for a while and then it fell off again. We tried to get together and be friends a few years back - but something was lost. I think we'd both changed too much - and our friendship dynamic was impossible to recreate (why would he want to? I mean, unrequited love can't be fun). B once told me that if he had to, he would wait for me forever. Clearly he didn't. I totally have the IM transcript somewhere (yes, that was an IM conversation) and I promise to find it and embarrass self in the future with that conversation.
N was probably one of the friendships where I personally still think it's up in the air whether there was something non-platonic. I think everyone who knew us might sputter and say, um, hello, yes he loved you. But out of all of them, this one was the most platonic. N drove me crazy in a lot of ways - and ultimately our friendship ended after I was forced to spend all day every day with him for over a week. But we had fun and we spent a lot of time just talking. I was friends with N when I was really getting to know myself and I would be different if not for that friendship. He was the one I was supposed to see on Friday. I hope to stay friendly with him for a long time.
And finally W. W wasn't a normal best friend - we were mostly friends due to school and due to our mutual friendship with C. But in the end, that was enough to be close to him. And out of all of them, W was the one that I loved unrequitedly. All of my memories of him are just of us laughing our asses off. We spent a lot of study groups frustrating others with our uselessness and I almost got kicked out of my AP Calculus test because of him (he traced his hand on his test. I laughed out loud. I was chastised and told to look at my own test/be quiet or both of us would get the boot. Just FYI - he did better on that test than I did). I think way back when, I never would have considered him a best friend. But in retrospect, he was. I'd love to see that kid again. And pine for him from afar.
For some reason, I thought all of those friendships were successful. And they were in their own way - I mean, these are people I loved/think of fondly. But it's impossible to keep that kind of thing going - because someone is always suffering in silence and hoping for more. And I think there is a breaking point. Or just a fading point...
After much thought, out of all of my besties, none of us has done it successfully. Not a one.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Music is my boyfriend...
How catchy is that little ditty?
I wrote about 10 different blog entries on the walk home from the gym (8 of them skewing dirty). I'm going to run with one of the ideas, but first here are two things that I found weird today:
I wrote about 10 different blog entries on the walk home from the gym (8 of them skewing dirty). I'm going to run with one of the ideas, but first here are two things that I found weird today:
- Girl next to me in the gym, reading the glossary of a book. I imagine this is her finals' studying technique? But...I think it's pretty bad, because what good is a definition without context?
- I wrote this TERRIBLE paper for my capstone class. I mean, it was regrettable. The only good thing about it was my research, which was seriously good. I got a really good grade and my theory that the quality of education at my school is bad? Justified.
- I think I'll do a little jig.
- Aw, remember when I used to dance around my room to my theme song senior year of college and Janet would laugh at me?
- I need a dance-y theme song again.
- (here's where I tumble into the gutter of my mind) Well, shit, if I ever get laid again, my theme song should be "Do It" by Nelly Furtado.
- Good plan. But maybe I should only make that my theme song if I'm consistently hitting it.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Update...
Two updates to previous NaBloPoMo posts:
My drunk dialing friend not only drunk dialed me twice within a few minutes, but also another friend. Other friend even said that her drunk dials ended up as two nearly identical voice mails. So, the drunk dialer apparently lost all ability to remember what she had said/dialed just minutes previously. Sort of hilarious. And also a possible explanation for why she didn't call me yesterday (did she not remember or is it embarrassment?).
Someone asked me to explain the context of "brazen hussy." I was talking with a friend about how I wished she had been at my birthday celebration. Accidentally seeing Go-Go boys in a gay bar was eye-opening (in more ways than one). Learned a lot about people I've known forever. I described myself as the "brazen hussy" of the group (although after some thought, I think we have a pretty even split of brazen hussies and prudes). Anyway, I wish everyone (maybe every woman...) I know had been there so that I could learn where they fall on the brazen hussy/prude spectrum.
My drunk dialing friend not only drunk dialed me twice within a few minutes, but also another friend. Other friend even said that her drunk dials ended up as two nearly identical voice mails. So, the drunk dialer apparently lost all ability to remember what she had said/dialed just minutes previously. Sort of hilarious. And also a possible explanation for why she didn't call me yesterday (did she not remember or is it embarrassment?).
Someone asked me to explain the context of "brazen hussy." I was talking with a friend about how I wished she had been at my birthday celebration. Accidentally seeing Go-Go boys in a gay bar was eye-opening (in more ways than one). Learned a lot about people I've known forever. I described myself as the "brazen hussy" of the group (although after some thought, I think we have a pretty even split of brazen hussies and prudes). Anyway, I wish everyone (maybe every woman...) I know had been there so that I could learn where they fall on the brazen hussy/prude spectrum.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Gimme, gimme more...
So what happened Saturday night? What happened indeed....I think the quote of the night that sums it all up for me is:
My request for the birthday night out was to go to dinner somewhere and then dancing. From my few trips up to Andersonville, I knew there was a bar that had booming dance music on Clark. We went there first and it was more like a normal bar with booming dance music. No actual dancing was taking place. However, the atmosphere was pretty good and we stayed for a few drinks.
Then we decided to try out some other options, see if we could find dancing. I just wanted to dance with my girls. We ended up across the street at a different bar. When we walked in someone was singing and I thought it was karaoke. It wasn't. It was some kind of...revue. Dancing and singing people. They were highly entertaining and we enjoyed it immensely. One of us even found her dream career (revue background dancer). I'm intentionally avoiding naming names here because I think my other two companions are a little more embarrassed with the turn the night took than I am. After the revue, go-go boys. What's a go-go boy? A nice word for a stripper that doesn't take off his underwear (mostly, I saw some ass and so did you if you clicked on that picture in the last post).
It was...hilarious. And creepy (we were in a gay bar, so there were some very creepy moments involving old men and go-go boys). And HILARIOUS. I giggle just thinking about it. The two friends I was with...I've known them forever. And seeing us all react to the situation and take it in...it was eye-opening. I tend to forget how open and unembarrassed I am about that kind of stuff. I guess I should feel like there's a taboo about talking about sex, penes, lust, boobs, etc....but I just don't. Especially not with these two girls.
And the question of "what makes a man be a go-go boy?". Well my answer to that was...it's his choice. It's his choice to let those creepy old guys fondle him (tmi?), it's his choice to parade around in his tighty...grayies? Who am I to judge him or wonder if the money is worth it? That's not my place.
I am leaving out a whole insane part of this story. Tighty gray pants boy? Went to our high school.
When I was in high school I think we had a graduating class of less than 200? I have no idea...but I think our school in total was less than 1000 people. And out of those 1000, one of them happens to be dancing in his skivies in the bar we randomly ended up in? Crazy small world...
Where is his penis at?Yeah. Here we go...
My request for the birthday night out was to go to dinner somewhere and then dancing. From my few trips up to Andersonville, I knew there was a bar that had booming dance music on Clark. We went there first and it was more like a normal bar with booming dance music. No actual dancing was taking place. However, the atmosphere was pretty good and we stayed for a few drinks.
Then we decided to try out some other options, see if we could find dancing. I just wanted to dance with my girls. We ended up across the street at a different bar. When we walked in someone was singing and I thought it was karaoke. It wasn't. It was some kind of...revue. Dancing and singing people. They were highly entertaining and we enjoyed it immensely. One of us even found her dream career (revue background dancer). I'm intentionally avoiding naming names here because I think my other two companions are a little more embarrassed with the turn the night took than I am. After the revue, go-go boys. What's a go-go boy? A nice word for a stripper that doesn't take off his underwear (mostly, I saw some ass and so did you if you clicked on that picture in the last post).
It was...hilarious. And creepy (we were in a gay bar, so there were some very creepy moments involving old men and go-go boys). And HILARIOUS. I giggle just thinking about it. The two friends I was with...I've known them forever. And seeing us all react to the situation and take it in...it was eye-opening. I tend to forget how open and unembarrassed I am about that kind of stuff. I guess I should feel like there's a taboo about talking about sex, penes, lust, boobs, etc....but I just don't. Especially not with these two girls.
And the question of "what makes a man be a go-go boy?". Well my answer to that was...it's his choice. It's his choice to let those creepy old guys fondle him (tmi?), it's his choice to parade around in his tighty...grayies? Who am I to judge him or wonder if the money is worth it? That's not my place.
I am leaving out a whole insane part of this story. Tighty gray pants boy? Went to our high school.
When I was in high school I think we had a graduating class of less than 200? I have no idea...but I think our school in total was less than 1000 people. And out of those 1000, one of them happens to be dancing in his skivies in the bar we randomly ended up in? Crazy small world...
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