I wonder if it falls under the category of “too bold” to answer the question “What would you like to do on our date on Wednesday?” with “Have sex.” Not that I don’t enjoy the other aspects of dating, the having of conversations, the playing of music, the hanging of out, but if I had all of those things AND the sweaty naked time, that would be the cat’s pajamas.
Today it was so beautiful out that I had to climb a tree. I was wearing a short skirt and knee-high leather boots at the time, but I had absolutely no willpower. There was a tree. It needed to be climbed.
I love this weather. It’s so cool, and crisp, and you can walk for hours without ever feeling too hot. It’s the season of long boots (my major fashion weakness), fun jackets, and silly scarves instead of functional ones. I always feel so free in fall. Like I can do anything.
Janie Blooms has it exactly right. This is the kind of weather that makes me hold someone’s hand and run through fallen leaves, kiss under the moon, and snuggle under the same jacket. Normally my fantasies are indoor fantasies involving violence, lust, and pain, but this weather gives me softer moments and outdoor fantasies more suited to romantic comedies than kinky porn.
There’s nothing wrong with a little variety, I suppose, and when winter comes I’ll want to be inside once more. Right now, however, I love fall.
A friend of mine asked me to put out a call to say that a national TV show (medical talk show) is looking for someone with an uncurable STD (preferably herpes, but not necessarily) who would be willing to talk about living with the disease on air. If you’d be interested in doing so, or know someone who would be interested, or just want more information please contact me via e-mail at smartgirlsecrets at gmail dot com and I will give you more information and forward you to the relevant individuals. Please feel free to repost.
Edit: I’m also to say that she will not be passing on the names/contact info until she has had a chance to watch at least one episode of the show to make certain it’s not obviously exploitative.
Especially when the creature who loves you has VERY SHARP NAILS.
Juno, i.e momma cat, is getting more and more affectionate every day. When I come out to the garage to do her routine twice a day, she immediately runs out to explore and then comes back to wind around my legs until I pick her up for a snuggle. Wherein lies the danger.
We have not yet clipped Juno’s nails, and when I pick her up she starts buzzing like crazy and then kneading away at any bit of exposed skin she can find. She’s clearly just trying to show how much she loves me, but right now it takes a masochist to love her back. (Fortunately I am one) This is how our mornings go…
“Hi beautiful girl!”
*I skritch the kitten until she shows she wants to be picked up*
“Snuggle time!”
*buzz*
“You’re so pre… OWWWW!”
*buzz*
“Yes, I like you too, but OWWWWWW!!!!”
*buzz*
“OWWWWWW!!!!!”
I hope we find her a good home with people who will love her. She’s a very lovable cat. She needs some fattening up (and a mani-pedi), but she’s very affectionate and has tons of personality.
If you’re interested in kittens, and you live in Boston or VA, kittens can come to you! I’m driving to Boston this weekend, and family members of the kitten rescuer are driving down to DC at the end of next week. Therefore if you want a kitten (or two!) and are willing to spay it (not negotiable), please drop me an e-mail and we can talk. Right now I think we have two oranges and one or two stripeys still looking for homes, and we still need a home for mama as well.
Unrelated to anything even remotely relevant to this blog, some friends of mine just rescued 4 kittens (three tabbies, one marmalade) and their (small, tabby) mama, and all five cats are looking for a home. I mention this because they are currently in mine, along with said friends’ two dogs, 4 house guests, and the tail (get it?) end of my sanity. If you live in the NY/NJ/CT area and are looking for a cat or a kitten, please drop me an e-mail. Mama is good with people and so is the marmalade kitty (temporarily named Juno and Bruce Wayne, respectively). The others are a little shy, but submitted passively to being bathed and, with a little work, we’re sure they would socialize nicely. They’re VERY cute.
As for sex blogging… it’s currently on hold because, hello, I’m living in a menagerie with thousands of vanilla house guests, and these things are not conducive to the writing of naughty thoughts.
Sex blogger land comes to television, and it does very little for me. Maybe I’m just jealous that she got to make out with Captain Jack, and that the 10th Doctor is still in love with her, but Billie Piper just does not turn me on. All in all, I had more fun reading the blog.
Sometimes listening to the news annoys me*.
Today, while driving home from the painful joy that is aerial acrobatics class, I heard a story on NPR discussing how shocking it is that Mariah Carey has apparently married a man who is 11 years younger than her. Yes, you read that correctly, 11 years. Big. Fucking. Deal.
If a 38 year old man married a 27 year old woman, it wouldn’t even be worthy of comment. It happens all the time. Hell, when a 60+ year old men marries a 27 year old women it barely makes a splash. The double standard makes me crazy.
One of the happiest, most stable couples I know has an 8 year age gap, with the female partner being older and, when they first got married, everyone doubted it would last. What, they said, does he see in her when he could find a woman of his own age or even younger? A wonderful wife, who loves him, a mother for his children, and an amazing family. That’s what. He didn’t care about her age. He still doesn’t, a decade later.
I’ve been guilty of this myself. I’m not always comfortable with the idea of dating someone significantly younger than I am, and I’m worse about it for men than I am for women, but to a great extent it’s about life experience more than it is age. I want certain things out of a partner, at least a primary partner, at this point in my life, and they’re not things that most 22 year olds are that interested in. But if I met a fabulous 23 year old man, and fell in love, I wouldn’t let his age stop me… no matter how many eyebrows were raised.
So, Mariah Carey, if you and your new man are happy then I raise a glass to you. I hope your marriage is as successful as my friends’.
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*Well, most of the time. Especially during primary season. “Well, I’ll tell you what, I’m not going to put my lot in with economists.” Really, Hillary? You’re not going to listen to the people who have actually researched the problem? That gives me a lot of faith in how you’ll run the country. Politicians make me stabby. I’ll vote for her if she gets the nomination, but I will NOT be happy about it.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, my best friend insists that weddings are great places to get laid. Sure, sometimes she’s managed a great connection and great sex, but other times I’ve gotten phone calls like the one where she told me “I think we had sex, but I’m not sure, because I really couldn’t tell.” She, when she was single, managed to pick up a man at just about every wedding she went to. I don’t know how she did it. I’ve only once picked up someone at a wedding and, other than some excellent making out on the steps, it was an outright disaster*.
This is on my mind, because I spent this weekend at a wedding in Florida. I did not, while I was there, manage to get laid. Even had there been viable options, which in retrospect there might have been, circumstances would have been forbidding. Both I, and the retrospectively potentially viable option**, were sharing rooms with people. It was also a huge wedding at which 95% of the people were from another culture, which made me very conscious of appropriate behavior. And we were at a golf resort. There’s nothing so diminishing to the desire for spontaneous recreational sex as being surrounded by aging white men in ugly shorts. This was, mostly, counteracted by being at a wedding surrounded by beautiful Indian women in saris that inspired ridiculous amounts of clothing lust***, but then you’d go back outside and just have to sigh.
Still, I had an absolutely fabulous time. Beautiful weather, amazing food, shiny clothing, fascinating ceremony, and the wonderful feeling of two amazing people pledging their lives to each other… I love weddings****. They should have another one in six months or so, so that I can go again!
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*I shouldn’t have let him talk. If I’d just said “nice Lindsey plaid kilt!” and he’d been impressed that I recognized the plaid, we could have just had some pleasantly meaningless sex, but we had to try and go on a date. shudder
**Flirty, viable option or gay? You decide!
***I could happily live in Indian clothing. So pretty! So comfortable! So forcing you to stand tall or look awful!
****But I hate bridal showers. Evil things. Should be outlawed!
Lately I’ve had neither inspiration or perspiration. No play, no sex, and no unresolved crushes causing me to focus my random surges of lust… these things make me a very dull girl. Plus, I have to tell you, the sex toys that they’ve been sending me to review have not been highly motivational. I mean, sure, some of them have been great at the instigation of orgasms, but nothing about them has made me want to be loquacious. Not like the fabulous Dalek vibrator, anyway. So when I sit down to write about sex, I just don’t have much to say. I need to work on that.
I can manage the perspiration by myself, but I need inspiration. I need to get out more. I’ve spent the last few weeks hiding at home when I’m not working, which is not conducive to exploring anything erotic. Or, at least, nothing erotic that I have any interest in writing about. The problem is that most of the people I currently want to explore erotic things with live in another state. Specifically, the person who I asked out a few weeks ago, but still haven’t found time to go out on a date with. Mind you, I’m not sure I want to explore erotic things with him. I don’t know if we’ll have any chemistry at all, but I really really want to kiss him and find out.
I either need 2-3 days of unscheduled time with enough notice in advance for said individual to arrange his time for me to accost him, or someone equally inspiring who lives closer. Or both. Both would be good. I’m extraordinarily envious of a good friend of mine who, during our phone conversation this afternoon, for the first time in memory did not spend half the time bitching about needing more sex in her life. No, instead she spent the time telling me about her fabulous boyfriend who not only cooks her dinner and organizes her kitchen but who also jumps her several times a day. The bitch has even been getting regular morning sex, and she’s not even awake in the mornings! So unfair. *sniffle* I’m so happy for her!
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