Monday, October 30, 2006
What happened over the course of the next few hours was certainly interesting. With NotCharlotte doing whatever upstairs, NotGraceful and I had a mad, hot makeout session* on the couch. Let's just say that the boy makes good use of his tongue, and his hands were in all of the right places. More cuddling on the couch when NotCharlotte returns and then more mad making out when she goes upstairs again. Insert a little guitar playing into the mix, and a drunk NotCharlotte and NotMiranda were swooning. Eventually my old ass passed out on the couch, and this is when NotCharlotte steps up to the plate. As I'm dozing, NotCharlotte is making out with NotGraceful on the floor! From what I hear, it was pretty damned steamy.
Somehow the weekend had spiralled into some odd, shared makeout fest. You all should know by now that I am typically a jealous ho, but I've been over NotGraceful** for awhile and have turned my attention elsewhere. I actually wasn't jealous at all (shock!). I can't help going deep on this one, though, and wondering if this isn't just more evidence of my fear of commitment and getting too into someone.***
*We'll leave out most of the details for the sake of brevity.
**And, really, who am I to talk? I was snogging on NotCharlotte's NotBeast earlier in the evening.
***This sentence deserves some explaining, but that's just going to have to wait. Soon, my pretties.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
I consider myself a sexual creature by nature. I like the idea of sex. The idea of bodies sliding against each other, the thought of long slow kisses that lead to being caught between a wall and a hard place and you're not doing it right if you haven't broken a sweat by the time you're done. So why this post you may ask...why the homage to sex with two people when I am clearly single...? Because no one else seems to be willing to broach the topic of masturbation.
Call it what you like, but getting down and dirty with yourself can be just as sexually satisfying as getting it on with someone else. In some cases you know exactly where to touch, what will send you flying and where the "no spot" lies (the "no spot" for those of you playing our home game is that spot that will kill your quality time with yourself quick, equate it with having your worst sexual partner enter that fantasy you had of Brad Pitt or Dr. McDreamy).
But while polite society can talk about all manners of sex with someone else, they've forgotten that some of the best sex we have is with ourselves and some had a slight sexual awakening beneath the sheets when a hand brushed a nipple *yeah I said the "n" word* or near the clit *gasp the "c" word too!* in the tossing and turning at night.
The other side benefit of masturbation is that you can teach your lover your favorite spots as well. Hey, not everyone is a porn star the first time they jump into the sack. You have to learn somewhere, and if you're not willing to test out your sexual responses by yourself to at least know what you don't like, then you have no reason to complain when someone does something you don't like, especially if you're not willing to voice your dislike.
To play the sex card, its more readily accepted that men will masturbate, despite detractors and "hairy palm" rumors, its easier to understand that men will "shake hands with the president," "wag the dog", "drain the lizard" Edit - I've just been told I've given euphemisms for urination...so I replace them with "choking the chicken", "hands on training" and any of a host of other euphemisms for masturbating, instead of women. I grew up hearing from my male friends how many times they could get it up and then set it off over a weekend, or if they had had time to get 'r done (sorry NotCarrie I couldn't resist) before school that morning. I have to ask...what about women? Why aren't we laughing about how long it took us to get there? or if multiple O's almost made us late for class/work?
I suggest breaking some new ground here and now. Ladies make your mark on yourself. Make masturbation a part of your sexual education. Even if you're not prepared to talk about it as boldly as I am. Let your fingers do the walking...and maybe even some talking, as they tell you things about yourself and your sexuality you probably never knew.
Have a good walk.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Sunday, October 22, 2006
I don't know how to do anything but be myself. And I don't want this to come across as a self-confidence issue because really, if there's one thing I don't lack it's self-confidence, but so far, being "just me" isn't doing much. I think there's a difference in going out to a bar and hooking up with some guy. I can do that. I know how that process works, but I'm kind of over it. It was more the "college NotCarrie" that did that more and now it seems like I'm in a different place*.
Like with most instances in my life, I got to thinking about all of this as I listened to a song. "Stand Inside Your Love" by the Smashing Pumpkins:
who wouldn't be the one you love and live for
who wouldn't stand inside your love and die for
who wouldn't be the one you love
I mean really...he should be so lucky, right? I'm a hott catch:)
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
NotMiranda could only give her already biased point of view that no, I do not come across as high-maintenance, and while I value her opinion, it's not the one I need right now. I can't help but wonder if I do in fact come across as someone who wouldn't be content to stay in and watch a movie on a Friday night. Let's just go on a relaxing car drive on a Saturday afternoon. Sunday night TV? Count me in!
Not to say that I don't like the more exciting things in life because holy hell do I! But, and this is incredibly cheesy and worthy of a romantic comedy movie, when you're with someone you really like (or for the love of Pete, love) doing the more mundane things in life can get that much more exciting.
Sure, right now in my life I might go a little stir crazy staying home all weekend, but if I'm staying home with someone who's company I truely enjoy? It will be anything but dull.
I just wonder sometimes if other people's perceptions of me aren't correct.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Thursday, October 12, 2006
NotDreds was unfortunately a little down and not his flirty self. Although, to be fair, I think we usually hit it our suggestive strides when drinks are in our hands. And we usually connect over being annoyed with the drunk people at the bars.
But I digress. So while I did not get my flirt on with NotDreds I DID get some good words in with his coworker, NotNewbie. NotDreds got a work call while I was there so I moved my attention to NotNewbie who yes, was obviously a little younger than me, but I think that worked in my favor. I had this theory I unofficially tried out a few years back, when I first started hanging out with NotRoger. He was a few years younger than I was and I think the age difference somehow kept me in control. It's hard to explain, and it's not some concrete thing I believe in at all, but I definitely noticed it when talking to NotNewbie. My words were flowing and I had the flirty eyes and facial expressions going. I had him laughing and making cute comments back. I was so in control of that conversation. I had to knock it off quickly though because NotDreds had come back and I didn't want him to accuse me of trying to rob any cradles though. And no, I'm not after NotNewbie. I'll probably never see him again, but he was a good way to ease back into the game.
NotCarrie is back!
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
As most of you know, I have been dabbling in the world of online dating. Last Thursday I went on a date with NotScruffy, someone I met from Match.com. We met at an Irish pub and drank beer while talking about most of the things we didn’t discuss in our daily phone calls/ instant messenger interactions. He was scruffy (of course), had a cute smile, and there were no breaks in conversation.
No problem, right?
I’m a crazy cunt then, because I found several problems with our date.
Over the past few months I have realized that I am a very judgmental person. I am also a big “first impression” sort of person. These two facets combined create my alter ego… I like to call her Contessa Judgey. I walked around the corner to where he was supposed to meet me and was immediately taken by his… tallness. This dude was the Tarzan to my meek little Jane—but not necessarily in a good way. I immediately thought to myself, how am I supposed to kiss him? Will he hunch over when we hug? At least he smelled nice.
I introduced myself and we proceeded into the bar. We sat ourselves in a little corner table, a perfect spot for people watching and I began one of my favorite poses: right leg crossed over left, body leaning forward, chin cupped slightly in right hand while left arm pushes up the girls to full attention. This pose is not only attractive, it also primes my body to swivel any which way to view the many people that inhabited this bar. I do believe my date liked this pose because he kept looking at me instead of the people I was talking about. Everything was going fine until the waitress came up to get our drink order. Imagine, if you will, a character from Dr. Seuss’ best loved classic “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” She was little Miss Cindy Lou Who, only with dark hair, complete with a ponytail… right on top of her head.
Come on folks, this is perfect fodder for a comment. I waited until she was done getting our order and well out of earshot, then told NotScruffy of my findings. If U2 weren’t playing so loudly, I think I would have heard crickets. Or the sound of his eyelids blinking, like in the cartoon I was using my comparison for. I chuckled softly and went on to explain that when I make comments like this they may sound judgmental, however they are absolutely, 100% honest reflections of how people look or act. I went on to explain that I would expect anyone else to make the same comments about me, however since I am perfect in every single way (much like Mary Poppins), it rarely happens. Finally, a laugh out of him.
After that, I think he loosened up a bit (could have been the Guinness) and he started to realize that I was correct in the stereotyping of our dear makeover candidate of a server. He then proceeded to “give me a hard time” about everything and while it was amusing, but after awhile it became repetitive because he couldn’t find that much to give me crap for.
Perhaps I was the one giving him a hard time. However, our online and phone conversations went a lot more towards the type of chit chat I like. Looking back, I realize that he was probably nervous, seeing as it was our first actual date and I feel bad for overanalyzing his moves. However, I am smart enough to realize that I am really not physically attracted to him. I knew from the minute I saw him that I could not see us “getting it on.” James Mercer, of The Shins fame, told Jane magazine something to the effect that first dates are for seeing if you would be compatible in a physical relationship.
I also realize that I may have gotten my hopes up too high for this guy. That could be the reason why I was nonplussed about our date. We spoke for 3 weeks online and on the phone before even meeting and I had created in my mind the perfect guy to have a relationship. When it finally “happened” I realized that my imagined man was in no way comparable to the man that sat in front of me, talking about basketball and not laughing at my comment about our Dr. Seuss wannabe.
I could go further into my analysis of the date, however I think this is enough fodder for you all to give me your opinions of dating online, or thoughts on what first dates are, or even your worst first dates ever. Anything to make me feel better about my judging abilities! Should I give him a second date, just to see if, given a different setting and not “first date jitters,” it’s different? Or should I go with my gut instinct and move on?
Monday, October 09, 2006
This weekend appears to have been very ass centric. Saturday night, I was messing with NotDarling at the part-time gig, when he slaps me with a hard high five. I remark on how hard he hits, and he retorts back with how much I like it. Ever the jokester, I came back with "not unless you're smacking my ass," as I'm whirling around and headed in the other direction. That bastard smacks my ass. Hard. I actually screamed, drawing way too much attention to myself, my flaming cheeks, and the fact that I was engaging in seemingly nefarious activity.
Sunday rolls around and what I consider everyone's fascination with my ass continues. I'm again at the part-time where I'm helping a customer sporting a t-shirt with a full-on "shocker"* sign. As I raise my eyebrow and smirk, he maintains his cocky stance but apologizes. I assured him he has nothing to apologize for and walked him around to where the books he was interested in should have been. As I'm walking ahead and prattling on, I feel his hand hit my ass. Seriously. He could have been swinging his arms a little too exuberantly or maybe he couldn't resist the tush. I like to think a guy confident enough to sport a "shocker" tee and asking for the kinds of books he was asking for would be more apt to give a test tap than swing his arms. It's more fun in the telling anyway.
So, it's Monday afternoon, and I find myself wondering if maybe it's me with the ass smacking obsession. The slight kink. Who knows. Perhaps I'll have a chance to test my theories out in a few short weeks. ; )
*It should be known that I obtained all knowledge of what both the shocker and a dirty sanchez are from NotDarling. Get your minds out of the gutters...it was purely an intellectual discussion.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
It's still very early in the night, I know. But come 10 or 11pm when I get the "Are you here?" texts and calls, I'm going to either be sitting at home, watching bad TV or at a friend's party an hour and a half away.
And the mood I'm in? So not a good one to be in if I go there because I know I'll just end up in an even worse one. A lot of my Notblogging has been inspired by nights out there with NotRoger, NotDreds, NotTownie, etc., but a lot of the times I go there, it's just a lot of empty flirting. And what good is empty flirting? It sucks. It leaves me feeling crappy and I don't want to feel crappy. It's my one day off of the week and I want to be in a good, happy mood.
I'll let you know what I decide to do...
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Seriously, I'm a full caffeine girl. I get no less than four espresso shots in any Fourbucks drink that I order and I'm proud of it. And I don't need no stinkin' half caff anything. Give me full flavor or no flavor at all. However, lately I've been less than caffeinated. In fact, I've been down right, decaf, worse, I've become instant decaf coffee!
"Are you becoming a hermit?" is what has been asked of me lately. And the more I think about it the easier I find the answer being yes. Why, you may ask. Well, here's what I've come up with:
I'm not dating (and not actively looking), I don't find the need to go out much or see the people I would normally see very often. I've slowly been pulling myself more and more away from friends and in some cases family. I've got a few people that see me regularly, either at work or out and about and that's pretty much it. Unless I promise promise to be there, I find some excuse not to make it.
I'm not feeling particularly attractive right now. I've been spending way more time than I would like to admit thinking about the looks that people get. For women, I think that in some cases we want to be noticed and when we are the ego gets a bit of a boost. Especially, when the eyes doing the staring are of the male variety and they're followed up by the approach of said male. Right now, I'm digging my own hole because I'm not going out, hence not getting any once over (let alone twice or thrice overs) and therefore no ego boost. Endless cycle this one.
I hate sleeping alone, but I'm not up to the challenge of finding someone to curl up with. This goes back to point number one. I'm not dating, but I'm not doing anything about it either. This funk...is a revisit of the previous one after the breakup with NotSkippy and I guess what I've got now are the lingering traces...the dregs in the coffee that was our relationship, if you will.
This weekend I've got a house party/house warming for a friend who just moved into my neighborhood and already I've been contemplating what excuses to give so I can just stay in with my back to my tv and my fingers on my keyboard. What would make a plausible reason for me to not drive, hell walk, the 1/2 mile to this party and hang out for a bit? I've come up with a few, but they don't hold any water at all. I can't even fool myself.
To top all of this off, my body has even started to be effected by my lack of a caffeinated personality. I've been sick...and I don't do sick. So, tomorrow is Friday, the kickoff of my weekend...sorta. I'm going to start it with one major kick of real espresso and go from there. If I can't find something to get me jumpstarted and soon, peaberry coffee won't even be enough to bring me back.
*holds out empty demitasse*
Fill 'er up!
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
This weekend is my college's Homecoming and since I live so close, I'll probably stop by. Usually this would mean I would be excited to go back to my ol' stompin grounds where I would get to run into all of those really hott, male friends. (Have I mentioned they're hott?) This year, though, not so much. I'm not itching to get there or anything and just don't feel like putting my flirt on with them.
Last year I accidently got drunk which resulted in me flirting A LOT with my friend, NotCharming. It didn't lead anywhere (surprisingly, actually) which is a good thing and I now know not to race when drinking Hurricane drinks at chinese restaurants. NotTownie and Notdreds will also be around like they were last year, but do I care about flirting with them? Not really.
It's odd. It's like I'm settling down or something weird, but not by choice. I'm sure I'll get it back soon. Maybe with cooler temperatures comes cooler NotCarrie...
Sunday, October 01, 2006
I knew we would be ok as we pulled away from apartment building. He wanted me, and all I wanted was to be wanted. His hand on my thigh in the car, driving fast like he knew it excited me. Dinner was comforting. Italian. Conversation just argumentative enough for my taste.
He was enough...tall enough, dark enough. Agressive enough when he took me back to his office to show me around. A bit pretentious (size doesn't matter when it comes to offices), but I let any irritation slip away when he backed me in a corner for one of those kisses.
The attention whore in me got what she wanted.