So Susie made a comment on my last post wishing me an equally wonderful weekend (as far as amazing sex and all that). Unfortunately, I'm actually unable to get any (now that Aunt Flo is totally gone, too!)
First of all, the man has gone to Vancouver, BC with his brother for the day today. He's taking care of some family business there, so I wasn't invited along (2.5 hours both ways in a car with a brother you are very close with = plenty of time to talk about the sex we're finally having. Because everyone knew we weren't having sex. I have a blog instead lol).
Secondly, I work all day tomorrow.
And finally (and most importantly, because not much is going to deter me from getting the action I've been craving so badly), there is a 48 hour rule I have to follow.
This is my first gynocologist exam ever.... and it would be fair to say I'm a little nervous.
So 48 hours prior to your exam, you're not allowed to put ANYTHING inside your cooch. Not even feminine products, nothing. So there goes any plans I may have had for a fun sex-filled weekend (when we found the time to get naked and down to it).
And the actual exam is pretty scary... no one but my boyfriend has ever looked at/touched my girlie bits, and now there's going to be a serious intrusion on my privacy.
As a woman who has always dreamt of going into the medical profession, I have a profound respect for doctors and as a patient always try to be as easy-going and cooperative as possible. I want to be the sort of patient that I'd be happy to have myself.
Therefore I will suck up my nerves, take off my clothes, spread my legs, and gracefully allow a long, cold metal object to be shoved into me... in a completely non-sexual way.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
winter break!!!
Wow, it has been a while since I last updated.
Don't blame me... it wasn't my usual laziness that came between this blog and the creative side of my brain, it was the fact that the other half of it was busy memorizing science facts that I would gleefully wash directly out after my finals.
In fact, I don't remember a damn thing that I learned this quarter... and that's exactly how I like it.
So let me just say this: the stress of finals can really wear down your will power.
As in, my man and I finally did the dirty dirty deed... many many times!
It was, UH-mazing. I can't even begin to describe it.
It wasn't just the finals stress though... I was also incredibly hormonal. I had just gotten my period. And there is nothing more frustrating than really wanting something but not being able to have it due to forces beyond your control. I posted before about sex during your period, and came to the conclusion that I don't really like it... but still, I just couldn't help myself this time. The fact that it was almost totally not an option (because of the time of month) and the fact that it had been over 3 months and I'm not a patient woman, and the total 'fuck it all' attitude that came with finals week... combined to give me some of the greatest sex I've ever had.
Also, suspiciously enough I just read this article the other day on Jezebel... and wouldn't you know it, last week my man's antiperspirant ran out!!! Before you get grossed out, let me just say that he's always very clean, and for some reason what ever natural smell he has is absolutely intoxicating to me. Very sexy, manly... ugh, I'm getting excited shivers just imagining him shirtless with me tucked in against him, breathing him in...
So anyway, the fact that finals and this awful quarter are over and that I'm finally getting laid again amount to me being a very happy woman. I have all of tomorrow off in which to read trashy romance novels, get a pedicure, tan, nap, WHATEVER... to my hearts content!!! And on Monday I have my gyno appointment... and soon thereafter my first ventures into condom-less sex. Joy.
Don't blame me... it wasn't my usual laziness that came between this blog and the creative side of my brain, it was the fact that the other half of it was busy memorizing science facts that I would gleefully wash directly out after my finals.
In fact, I don't remember a damn thing that I learned this quarter... and that's exactly how I like it.
So let me just say this: the stress of finals can really wear down your will power.
As in, my man and I finally did the dirty dirty deed... many many times!
It was, UH-mazing. I can't even begin to describe it.
It wasn't just the finals stress though... I was also incredibly hormonal. I had just gotten my period. And there is nothing more frustrating than really wanting something but not being able to have it due to forces beyond your control. I posted before about sex during your period, and came to the conclusion that I don't really like it... but still, I just couldn't help myself this time. The fact that it was almost totally not an option (because of the time of month) and the fact that it had been over 3 months and I'm not a patient woman, and the total 'fuck it all' attitude that came with finals week... combined to give me some of the greatest sex I've ever had.
Also, suspiciously enough I just read this article the other day on Jezebel... and wouldn't you know it, last week my man's antiperspirant ran out!!! Before you get grossed out, let me just say that he's always very clean, and for some reason what ever natural smell he has is absolutely intoxicating to me. Very sexy, manly... ugh, I'm getting excited shivers just imagining him shirtless with me tucked in against him, breathing him in...
So anyway, the fact that finals and this awful quarter are over and that I'm finally getting laid again amount to me being a very happy woman. I have all of tomorrow off in which to read trashy romance novels, get a pedicure, tan, nap, WHATEVER... to my hearts content!!! And on Monday I have my gyno appointment... and soon thereafter my first ventures into condom-less sex. Joy.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Part 2: boob-man
... Part 1 cont'd.
Over the summer, I had been a few months into the break-up with my man, and starting to feel extremely horny. For a while, I really just wanted to jump everything with a penis... because a girl has needs, you know?
So I was signed up for MCAT classes (the standardized test for med schools, if you didn't know), and I was definitely not expecting to be, umm, stimulated? in that course. Because, you know, the demographic of people trying to get into med school rarely include the more genetically fortunate types you see on Grey's Anatomy, etc.
The very first day, I walked down the block towards the building, and a very tall, very good looking guy happened to be walking in the same direction. He reached the door just before me, and held it open. As I thanked him, I wondered if I was in the right place. No way this guy was in my class right? Wrong.
Let me introduce you to Mr. Rugby. A 6'7" (that's right, sequined), ruggedly handsome, very well-built rugby player, he was impressive before you realize that he is also incredibly smart. Good grades, wants to become a doctor... the whole, amazing package right?
Oh, and he also came and sat right next to me. And continued to do so every day.
We were instantly flirting, and joking around and just being smart-asses. And we were also a bit inseparable for a few weeks. If one of us forgot the book, we'd share with the other, heads bent as we pored over organic chemistry (sexy right?).
It wasn't long before he invited me over to see his place. He was subletting in a house filled with guys, but his room was surprisingly clean (and smelled good). We picked up a blanket and a rugby ball and headed to the nearby park. He pushed me on the swing set, we tossed the ball around (he took off his shirt!!), and then we laid on the blanket together in the sun and talked for hours. We then went to lunch, and I called it a day.
But I wanted him.
Sure enough, next class he asked me to come over and study. "Study". When we arrived I made a pretense of bringing out my books, but he immediately reclined on his bed and made absolutely no effort to join my academic efforts. So naturally, I joined him. But, no hanky-panky! We ended up just talking, then spooning, and then napping together on his bed. Then we woke up, me curled against him with my head on his chest, him playing with my hair... but still he didn't try to kiss me. Little alarm bells were going off, but I couldn't pinpoint the reason...
Then I added him on facebook that night.
Mr. Rugby has a girlfriend!!! I was shocked... and then I was dismayed.... and then I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. They could be on break for the summer but continued stay in a relationship on facebook... they could be open to dating other people, etc. But I was starting to suspect this was the reason he wouldn't even kiss me. I decided to wait until he brought it up the next day.
I woke up, saw how beautiful and sunny and warm it was (summers ARE like that in Seattle, you know... sometimes), and donned a little cotton tank top. No bra.
Oh, how I wished I had worn a bra...
I get to class, and he greets me... and then locks eyes on my barely clad chest. And I don't think he looked up, even when class was over and he asked me back to his place to 'study' once again.
Let me tell you, it made me slightly uncomfortable to have a guy staring like that at my chest. i understand it happens all the time to girls, but if you remember, i have very small breasts. There had never been a time before this that a guy had refused to make eye contact with me because he was too busy staring at my tits. It has just never happened before... and I'm kind of glad about it now because it's frustrating to be talking to a face that's pointing another direction the whole time.
We walked to his place again, and again he lays out on his bed. No books. So I oblige, but I'm weary. He has a girlfriend... or does he? I don't know what that deal is, but I still really want to make out with him because, well, he's still really hot. Sue me.
This is where the weirdness happens. We're talking about something mundane when totally out of the blue,
Mr. Rugby, "Can I see your boobs?"
???
I'm so put off that of course, I right out refuse.
Me: "Uhh... *laughs uncomfortably* no...?!"
Mr. Rugby: "Really? Oh come on, you really won't show me?"
And I of course refuse, again. Let me now give you various examples of how he continues to ask to see my boobs. Over and over and over. And I refuse. Over and over and over. I mean, he'd drop the subject for like 5 minutes... we'd talk about something else, and then inevitably:
"Come on, I'll show you mine!"
"Why not, it's fun to be naked!"
"Just for a second, just show me them for a second."
And my absolute personal favorite,
"Let me just see one, then!"
All while staring at my breasts... who were definitely and traitorously perked up at all the attention.
At this point, I am just incredulous. I don't know why I stayed after he asked me twice... listen it may be sick, but I couldn't wrap my mind about how ridiculous it all was. I was still hoping to make-out with him, I think...
At one point, after he asked me why I wasn't flashing him, I answered with, "Because 1) I'm not drunk, 2) this isn't Mardi Gras, I'm not getting any beads, and 3) there's a natural progression to these things... you're kind of jumping the gun."
Another FAVORITE tid-bit slipped in between him imploring to see my chest, my refusals, and some small talk:
Mr. Rugby: "*sigh* I'm a boob man."
Me: "Well, I'm more of an ass guy's chick..."
And finally, when I asked him WHY he just wanted to jump right in to see them, he answered that it is 'less serious' than other things. Uh oh. This is where I figure that the guy is still really in a relationship with his girlfriend, and doesn't want to hook up with another chick... but figures looking at her tits isn't considered cheating. What's more is that all the touching, the trying to pull the straps of my shirt down (ya, even when I refused to take it off my shirt, he thought he would just 'help' me take it off anyway), the tackling, the teasing, all of the things he was pulling on me... would be completely unacceptable behavior. Like, if she found out, she would dump him. Really, what IS cheating?
I asked to be driven to my car.
We get in his car, buckle up, and he turns to me. And he says to me hopefully, "Last chance... you sure you don't want to show me?"
OH MY GOD like it would be doing MYself a favor! And how many times, really, do you have to reject someone until it becomes embarrassing, nay, comical??!!? I, literally, laughed in his face and said "NO" as emphatically as possible.
I went home, kind of in shock, replaying the day. And then I started laughing... only I would get this kind of crazy in my life.
What's better is that he continued sitting next to me for the duration of the course, and didn't at any point feel embarrassed or even apologize for that day... just pretended it didn't happen!
Sometimes i really don't get guys.
Over the summer, I had been a few months into the break-up with my man, and starting to feel extremely horny. For a while, I really just wanted to jump everything with a penis... because a girl has needs, you know?
So I was signed up for MCAT classes (the standardized test for med schools, if you didn't know), and I was definitely not expecting to be, umm, stimulated? in that course. Because, you know, the demographic of people trying to get into med school rarely include the more genetically fortunate types you see on Grey's Anatomy, etc.
The very first day, I walked down the block towards the building, and a very tall, very good looking guy happened to be walking in the same direction. He reached the door just before me, and held it open. As I thanked him, I wondered if I was in the right place. No way this guy was in my class right? Wrong.
Let me introduce you to Mr. Rugby. A 6'7" (that's right, sequined), ruggedly handsome, very well-built rugby player, he was impressive before you realize that he is also incredibly smart. Good grades, wants to become a doctor... the whole, amazing package right?
Oh, and he also came and sat right next to me. And continued to do so every day.
We were instantly flirting, and joking around and just being smart-asses. And we were also a bit inseparable for a few weeks. If one of us forgot the book, we'd share with the other, heads bent as we pored over organic chemistry (sexy right?).
It wasn't long before he invited me over to see his place. He was subletting in a house filled with guys, but his room was surprisingly clean (and smelled good). We picked up a blanket and a rugby ball and headed to the nearby park. He pushed me on the swing set, we tossed the ball around (he took off his shirt!!), and then we laid on the blanket together in the sun and talked for hours. We then went to lunch, and I called it a day.
But I wanted him.
Sure enough, next class he asked me to come over and study. "Study". When we arrived I made a pretense of bringing out my books, but he immediately reclined on his bed and made absolutely no effort to join my academic efforts. So naturally, I joined him. But, no hanky-panky! We ended up just talking, then spooning, and then napping together on his bed. Then we woke up, me curled against him with my head on his chest, him playing with my hair... but still he didn't try to kiss me. Little alarm bells were going off, but I couldn't pinpoint the reason...
Then I added him on facebook that night.
Mr. Rugby has a girlfriend!!! I was shocked... and then I was dismayed.... and then I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. They could be on break for the summer but continued stay in a relationship on facebook... they could be open to dating other people, etc. But I was starting to suspect this was the reason he wouldn't even kiss me. I decided to wait until he brought it up the next day.
I woke up, saw how beautiful and sunny and warm it was (summers ARE like that in Seattle, you know... sometimes), and donned a little cotton tank top. No bra.
Oh, how I wished I had worn a bra...
I get to class, and he greets me... and then locks eyes on my barely clad chest. And I don't think he looked up, even when class was over and he asked me back to his place to 'study' once again.
Let me tell you, it made me slightly uncomfortable to have a guy staring like that at my chest. i understand it happens all the time to girls, but if you remember, i have very small breasts. There had never been a time before this that a guy had refused to make eye contact with me because he was too busy staring at my tits. It has just never happened before... and I'm kind of glad about it now because it's frustrating to be talking to a face that's pointing another direction the whole time.
We walked to his place again, and again he lays out on his bed. No books. So I oblige, but I'm weary. He has a girlfriend... or does he? I don't know what that deal is, but I still really want to make out with him because, well, he's still really hot. Sue me.
This is where the weirdness happens. We're talking about something mundane when totally out of the blue,
Mr. Rugby, "Can I see your boobs?"
???
I'm so put off that of course, I right out refuse.
Me: "Uhh... *laughs uncomfortably* no...?!"
Mr. Rugby: "Really? Oh come on, you really won't show me?"
And I of course refuse, again. Let me now give you various examples of how he continues to ask to see my boobs. Over and over and over. And I refuse. Over and over and over. I mean, he'd drop the subject for like 5 minutes... we'd talk about something else, and then inevitably:
"Come on, I'll show you mine!"
"Why not, it's fun to be naked!"
"Just for a second, just show me them for a second."
And my absolute personal favorite,
"Let me just see one, then!"
All while staring at my breasts... who were definitely and traitorously perked up at all the attention.
At this point, I am just incredulous. I don't know why I stayed after he asked me twice... listen it may be sick, but I couldn't wrap my mind about how ridiculous it all was. I was still hoping to make-out with him, I think...
At one point, after he asked me why I wasn't flashing him, I answered with, "Because 1) I'm not drunk, 2) this isn't Mardi Gras, I'm not getting any beads, and 3) there's a natural progression to these things... you're kind of jumping the gun."
Another FAVORITE tid-bit slipped in between him imploring to see my chest, my refusals, and some small talk:
Mr. Rugby: "*sigh* I'm a boob man."
Me: "Well, I'm more of an ass guy's chick..."
And finally, when I asked him WHY he just wanted to jump right in to see them, he answered that it is 'less serious' than other things. Uh oh. This is where I figure that the guy is still really in a relationship with his girlfriend, and doesn't want to hook up with another chick... but figures looking at her tits isn't considered cheating. What's more is that all the touching, the trying to pull the straps of my shirt down (ya, even when I refused to take it off my shirt, he thought he would just 'help' me take it off anyway), the tackling, the teasing, all of the things he was pulling on me... would be completely unacceptable behavior. Like, if she found out, she would dump him. Really, what IS cheating?
I asked to be driven to my car.
We get in his car, buckle up, and he turns to me. And he says to me hopefully, "Last chance... you sure you don't want to show me?"
OH MY GOD like it would be doing MYself a favor! And how many times, really, do you have to reject someone until it becomes embarrassing, nay, comical??!!? I, literally, laughed in his face and said "NO" as emphatically as possible.
I went home, kind of in shock, replaying the day. And then I started laughing... only I would get this kind of crazy in my life.
What's better is that he continued sitting next to me for the duration of the course, and didn't at any point feel embarrassed or even apologize for that day... just pretended it didn't happen!
Sometimes i really don't get guys.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Part 1: boob-man
This was going to be a very long story, with tons of background and just a lot of details. To help y'all out (and also to give this blog a semblance of organization), I have decided to split the story into two parts. This portion will just be a nice little set-up for the more juicy Part 2... which I will write tomorrow (hopefully). So here we go.
Since this story is all about my breasts (woohoo!) let me give you a little description of my body. As for sizes, for shirts I usually wear medium, and my jeans run from 6-10 (I even have a really stretchy pair of size 4 jeans that fit), depending on the brand, but I generally fall at about an 8. I'm also nearly 5'9", so I guess my body type is somewhat Amazonian.
Now for the details: since I'm quite tall, I have really long legs and a really long torso... but I'm very curvy as well. And by curvy I mean that someone somewhere in my ancestry had to have been from Africa because I have booty. Big booty. Like the kind that warrants the cat calls and the bend-over-to-stare move from the demographic of men that truly appreciate this sort of thing.
It's big. It's round. And it's fabulous.
By this time of my life, my ass has endured so much abuse that I no longer have feeling there. When someone walks by and grabs it, smacks it, whatever it is they do.. I usually don't react because a) i didn't feel it, or b) didn't think twice about it.
At work, most of the guys and nearly all the girls I work with (I'm a part-time waitress at a big restaurant) will walk by me and grab/slap my ass on the way. Two of the guys call me 'Booty'... and my really good friend from work will describe me as 'the pretty persian girl with the great ass' to people who don't recognize me by name... and after her description suddenly remember who I am.
And, it's my man's favorite thing ever.
Enough about that, it will be slightly important to Part 2.
Now for my chest. Let's just say this... they started growing when I was 12, and then stopped at 13. That's a years worth of growth. What it means for me is that I am a sworn member of the itty-bitty-titty-committee... I think it's fair to say they're pushing a size B. More of a high A.
They're not concave, they're just a bit under-developed.
Now, since I was young I've been very self conscious about my breasts... even my little sister has outgrown me... all of my friends are bigger than me (strangely, most of my friends have enormous breasts..), and it was just an uncomfortable topic for me all my life. Also, I've had a very disgusting and disturbing experience related to my breasts that I shall not cover now (and this one is far worse than the incident in Part 2).
Now, when I first started dating my man, no one -- not even my sister, my mom, anyone -- had seen me topless after the age of 10. So I was quite nervous about letting them be explored, visually and physically, by another person. It was the one hang-up I really had about my body... generally I was pretty comfortable about everything else.
Anyways, the long and short of it is that only one man has had an all-access pass to my boobies... to touch, to see, etc. And now that they are accepted --nay, worshipped-- by the man that loves me, I'm no longer at all self-consious about them. I change freely in the locker rooms, I have changed in front of my friends...
...and I sometimes go out without a bra.
to be continued...
Since this story is all about my breasts (woohoo!) let me give you a little description of my body. As for sizes, for shirts I usually wear medium, and my jeans run from 6-10 (I even have a really stretchy pair of size 4 jeans that fit), depending on the brand, but I generally fall at about an 8. I'm also nearly 5'9", so I guess my body type is somewhat Amazonian.
Now for the details: since I'm quite tall, I have really long legs and a really long torso... but I'm very curvy as well. And by curvy I mean that someone somewhere in my ancestry had to have been from Africa because I have booty. Big booty. Like the kind that warrants the cat calls and the bend-over-to-stare move from the demographic of men that truly appreciate this sort of thing.
It's big. It's round. And it's fabulous.
By this time of my life, my ass has endured so much abuse that I no longer have feeling there. When someone walks by and grabs it, smacks it, whatever it is they do.. I usually don't react because a) i didn't feel it, or b) didn't think twice about it.
At work, most of the guys and nearly all the girls I work with (I'm a part-time waitress at a big restaurant) will walk by me and grab/slap my ass on the way. Two of the guys call me 'Booty'... and my really good friend from work will describe me as 'the pretty persian girl with the great ass' to people who don't recognize me by name... and after her description suddenly remember who I am.
And, it's my man's favorite thing ever.
Enough about that, it will be slightly important to Part 2.
Now for my chest. Let's just say this... they started growing when I was 12, and then stopped at 13. That's a years worth of growth. What it means for me is that I am a sworn member of the itty-bitty-titty-committee... I think it's fair to say they're pushing a size B. More of a high A.
They're not concave, they're just a bit under-developed.
Now, since I was young I've been very self conscious about my breasts... even my little sister has outgrown me... all of my friends are bigger than me (strangely, most of my friends have enormous breasts..), and it was just an uncomfortable topic for me all my life. Also, I've had a very disgusting and disturbing experience related to my breasts that I shall not cover now (and this one is far worse than the incident in Part 2).
Now, when I first started dating my man, no one -- not even my sister, my mom, anyone -- had seen me topless after the age of 10. So I was quite nervous about letting them be explored, visually and physically, by another person. It was the one hang-up I really had about my body... generally I was pretty comfortable about everything else.
Anyways, the long and short of it is that only one man has had an all-access pass to my boobies... to touch, to see, etc. And now that they are accepted --nay, worshipped-- by the man that loves me, I'm no longer at all self-consious about them. I change freely in the locker rooms, I have changed in front of my friends...
...and I sometimes go out without a bra.
to be continued...
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
end in sight
I'm starting to catch a cold.. it's been so long since I've been sick that I'd forgotten how truly miserable it is to be all stuffed up and having your nose run... I've got used tissues crumpled up all around my bed and I'm definitely cranky. I told my man over the phone that I wanted to use him as an electric blanket... and that I wanted to make him sick so we could be sick TOGETHER.. you know, because couples share everything ;)
We had sort of a break-through yesterday... I finally got the tangible proof I needed from him for me to almost completely let down my walls. Proof of what, you ask? Proof that he needs me, that he truly loves me, that he has made/is making the necessary adjustments in his life to support our relationship, that he cares about my feelings and about putting me first sometimes.
I won't go into details of how he went about assuring me of all these things, but it was a very mixed day; sometimes you learn the most about your relationship when you are working out the kinks.
SO, as most of you know, I have not had actual sexual intercourse for nearly 3 (!!!) months now. My body has been aching, BEGGING for it for that long, but because of the nature of our relationship, and the circumstances of my family situation, etc. I decided to hold off on the sex for a while.
(edit) I just started re-reading my old posts, searching for one explaining why exactly I'm not currently having sex... and realized I never really did write about it. There are several reasons why we have abstained;
1) I cannot physically take a birth control pill every day because I live at home and it will be discovered. It really will. And if it does, I will get kicked out. see family situation. Plus, my parents can't know that I've seen a gynecologist, and I can't use my insurance (I'm under their name) to pay for the visit or the pill anyway.
2) when we got back together after our break-up, we WERE having sex, but I wasn't quite comfortable with him, was really tight after all the non-use during our time apart, and sex wasn't very good. Plus, we were (and always have before) using condoms.. and it's just not that easy when you're not slathering on the lube or extremely excited.
3) we had a lot of work to do on our relationship... I didn't want sex to be used as a sort of 'patch' for the problems we needed to work out, like it had been when we were together before. Sex complicates things, and I certainly didn't want to have my common sense and clear thinking muddled with the closeness that comes from this intimacy. I felt like before we'd use sex as a way to feel connected when we weren't connecting outside of the bed, and I didn't want to make the same mistake again.
4) going along with 1 and in some part 2, I wanted the next time we had sex to be without a condom; ie, me being on some kind of birth control (even though this is contradicting problem 1 lol ) I'll explain in a bit.
Lucky for me, my very patient, very lovely boyfriend has gone along with me on this, and agreed that even though it is, and has been very painful and frustrating, that the decision to abstain is a sound one. And therefore the decision to END this sex-less time will be mine.
The moral of this story is that as of yesterday, there is an end in sight to this self-prescribed celibacy. I feel like our relationship is at the right point finally where sex will be a positive addition, not a crutch.
So I've set up an appointment with Planned Parenthood in about a month, and I will be paying for the visit and the birth control myself. I've decided the best option as far as the type of birth control would be the Nuvaring, a flexible ring that you only change once a month. No pills, no alarms, no worries.
And now I'm mentally preparing for the glorious world of no-condom sex to open up to me, a world I have as yet not entered, and the freedom of being able to fuck wherever and whenever I please with little-to-no clean-up... besides the sweat of exertion. :)
We had sort of a break-through yesterday... I finally got the tangible proof I needed from him for me to almost completely let down my walls. Proof of what, you ask? Proof that he needs me, that he truly loves me, that he has made/is making the necessary adjustments in his life to support our relationship, that he cares about my feelings and about putting me first sometimes.
I won't go into details of how he went about assuring me of all these things, but it was a very mixed day; sometimes you learn the most about your relationship when you are working out the kinks.
SO, as most of you know, I have not had actual sexual intercourse for nearly 3 (!!!) months now. My body has been aching, BEGGING for it for that long, but because of the nature of our relationship, and the circumstances of my family situation, etc. I decided to hold off on the sex for a while.
(edit) I just started re-reading my old posts, searching for one explaining why exactly I'm not currently having sex... and realized I never really did write about it. There are several reasons why we have abstained;
1) I cannot physically take a birth control pill every day because I live at home and it will be discovered. It really will. And if it does, I will get kicked out. see family situation. Plus, my parents can't know that I've seen a gynecologist, and I can't use my insurance (I'm under their name) to pay for the visit or the pill anyway.
2) when we got back together after our break-up, we WERE having sex, but I wasn't quite comfortable with him, was really tight after all the non-use during our time apart, and sex wasn't very good. Plus, we were (and always have before) using condoms.. and it's just not that easy when you're not slathering on the lube or extremely excited.
3) we had a lot of work to do on our relationship... I didn't want sex to be used as a sort of 'patch' for the problems we needed to work out, like it had been when we were together before. Sex complicates things, and I certainly didn't want to have my common sense and clear thinking muddled with the closeness that comes from this intimacy. I felt like before we'd use sex as a way to feel connected when we weren't connecting outside of the bed, and I didn't want to make the same mistake again.
4) going along with 1 and in some part 2, I wanted the next time we had sex to be without a condom; ie, me being on some kind of birth control (even though this is contradicting problem 1 lol ) I'll explain in a bit.
Lucky for me, my very patient, very lovely boyfriend has gone along with me on this, and agreed that even though it is, and has been very painful and frustrating, that the decision to abstain is a sound one. And therefore the decision to END this sex-less time will be mine.
The moral of this story is that as of yesterday, there is an end in sight to this self-prescribed celibacy. I feel like our relationship is at the right point finally where sex will be a positive addition, not a crutch.
So I've set up an appointment with Planned Parenthood in about a month, and I will be paying for the visit and the birth control myself. I've decided the best option as far as the type of birth control would be the Nuvaring, a flexible ring that you only change once a month. No pills, no alarms, no worries.
And now I'm mentally preparing for the glorious world of no-condom sex to open up to me, a world I have as yet not entered, and the freedom of being able to fuck wherever and whenever I please with little-to-no clean-up... besides the sweat of exertion. :)
guilty pleasures
Ok, so I'm an intelligent girl/I'm as likely to read a good book as to watch a movie, I'm nearly done with my fifth year of university taking gut-wrenchingly difficult science classes, and I listen to NPR (public radio) enough to stay caught up on current events (when I'm not watching the news).
So I wonder how exactly I've managed to get myself neck-deep involved in watching so many trashy, horrible reality TV shows.
I don't just watch them either... I'm talking, getting involved, reading about the episodes in other blogs, discussing them with friends... it's sick. I know it is.
First of all, don't get me started with America's Next Top Model (also known as ANTM... don't get it twisted). I have been watching since the 2nd cycle, and I'm hooked. I love how terribly cheesy the challenges are, how Tyra is absolutely ape-shit crazy, and all the faux drama hat goes on in that house between the models. Who are all, by the way, very unconventional looking. As in, I've tried to get my man to watch it with me, and he lost all interest after 5 minutes because, he complained, "all the chicks are ugly".
Still, you will see me glued to the TV during that hour every week, and reading the hilarious recap that Four Four does every Monday.
Ok, so Bravo is a channel that deserves an entry of it's own. I loved Project Runway last season (but this time around I just haven't gotten that into it), Top Chef (who doesn't love Padma?), and my two ABSOLUTE favorites of all time... The Real Housewives of Orange County, and My Life On the D List.
For the former: there is nothing (NOTHING) more entertaining than watch the drama that unfolds in the lives of highly plasticized, injected, toned, and colored ladies with too much money and not enough brains... Anything that happens in their love lives, with their children... man it's surreal. I eat it up.
And the latter... I. Love.Kathy. Griffin. I would turn gay for her. In fact, I sometimes wish I were a gay male so that I could be part of her posse. I'm not afraid to admit I have kind of a lesbian crush all up on her. In fact, the best present I have ever gotten was tickets to see her show for my birthday this year... my man def. knows me well. When he surprised me with the tickets, he didn't come straight out with it. He just said, "Well, I don't know if you could pass me off as gay, but..." and I flipped out. Love her.
And since I don't have cable TV at home, most of the TV shows on like MTV and things have been unavailable to me... until this year where all the episodes are online. And you can be damn sure that I have lost a scary amount of sleep catching up on seasons of shows I had never previously watched or was interested in before.
My favorites:
The Hills: I hate this show. I hate the girls on it. I hate how set-up and fake it all is. But I still freakin' love this show. Sue me.
A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila: This one is new. I have had marathon Tila sessions at home on my bed... and I'm not gonna lie. I love it. The premise of the show is that Tila Tequila is bisexual, so she has both guys AND girls competing for her love, Bachelor style. I've learned two things: 1) there are some crazy lesbian chicks out there... I'm now slightly afraid of them... BUT at the same time... 2) I'm afraid to say that I may or may not have a crush on like all the lesbians on the show. (!). I'm 100% straight, but there is just something about them that's so sexy.. especially Dani. I know, it's weird.
Anyways, if you are wondering how I manage to have a part-time job and be a full-time student and still have time to watch all this TV, all I can say is that sleep is over-rated and the internet is amazing.
So I wonder how exactly I've managed to get myself neck-deep involved in watching so many trashy, horrible reality TV shows.
I don't just watch them either... I'm talking, getting involved, reading about the episodes in other blogs, discussing them with friends... it's sick. I know it is.
First of all, don't get me started with America's Next Top Model (also known as ANTM... don't get it twisted). I have been watching since the 2nd cycle, and I'm hooked. I love how terribly cheesy the challenges are, how Tyra is absolutely ape-shit crazy, and all the faux drama hat goes on in that house between the models. Who are all, by the way, very unconventional looking. As in, I've tried to get my man to watch it with me, and he lost all interest after 5 minutes because, he complained, "all the chicks are ugly".
Still, you will see me glued to the TV during that hour every week, and reading the hilarious recap that Four Four does every Monday.
Ok, so Bravo is a channel that deserves an entry of it's own. I loved Project Runway last season (but this time around I just haven't gotten that into it), Top Chef (who doesn't love Padma?), and my two ABSOLUTE favorites of all time... The Real Housewives of Orange County, and My Life On the D List.
For the former: there is nothing (NOTHING) more entertaining than watch the drama that unfolds in the lives of highly plasticized, injected, toned, and colored ladies with too much money and not enough brains... Anything that happens in their love lives, with their children... man it's surreal. I eat it up.
And the latter... I. Love.Kathy. Griffin. I would turn gay for her. In fact, I sometimes wish I were a gay male so that I could be part of her posse. I'm not afraid to admit I have kind of a lesbian crush all up on her. In fact, the best present I have ever gotten was tickets to see her show for my birthday this year... my man def. knows me well. When he surprised me with the tickets, he didn't come straight out with it. He just said, "Well, I don't know if you could pass me off as gay, but..." and I flipped out. Love her.
And since I don't have cable TV at home, most of the TV shows on like MTV and things have been unavailable to me... until this year where all the episodes are online. And you can be damn sure that I have lost a scary amount of sleep catching up on seasons of shows I had never previously watched or was interested in before.
My favorites:
The Hills: I hate this show. I hate the girls on it. I hate how set-up and fake it all is. But I still freakin' love this show. Sue me.
A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila: This one is new. I have had marathon Tila sessions at home on my bed... and I'm not gonna lie. I love it. The premise of the show is that Tila Tequila is bisexual, so she has both guys AND girls competing for her love, Bachelor style. I've learned two things: 1) there are some crazy lesbian chicks out there... I'm now slightly afraid of them... BUT at the same time... 2) I'm afraid to say that I may or may not have a crush on like all the lesbians on the show. (!). I'm 100% straight, but there is just something about them that's so sexy.. especially Dani. I know, it's weird.
Anyways, if you are wondering how I manage to have a part-time job and be a full-time student and still have time to watch all this TV, all I can say is that sleep is over-rated and the internet is amazing.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
exhibition
Over the course of my current relationship I've discovered the joys of fooling around in semi-public places.
It started when he lived with three other guys. We were just beginning to explore each other physically, the intensity of which was exponentially increased by the fact that it was my first time exploring ANYONE physically, and for a while there it was as if we'd morphed into anxious 14 year olds, trying to do it everywhere without getting caught.
My favorite story of ours ever involves our 'taste' for all things outdoors...
We had driven around after dinner until he took me to a neighborhood park he used to play in, where we sat on a dock on the man-made lake until it got dark. As the stars started to peek out out of the darkening sky, our barely-suppressed libidos started to make their grand entrance into our evening. We started making out on the bench, then against the railing.... then we retraced our steps along the path, christening every corner with a flurry of kisses, caresses...
We got to our cars sitting near the road in the parking lot for the park, where we continued the kissing intermittent with laughter and jokes. He had me up on the trunk of my car, standing between my legs as we wrestled for dominance with our lips. Then in the back of his car, with me straddling his lap and tongues entangled.
And was we started to really get into the heat of things, a pair of headlights blared through the back of his car window... headlights paired with red and blue flashes.
We quickly straightened ourselves out, muttering curses under our breath between giggles as we realized how cliche was our situation. Cliche for middle-schoolers.
A torchlight came bobbing towards his car, in the hands of a slightly bemused police officer, who told us that public parks are closed after dusk and asked us to kindly take our leave.
Now that time was eventful, but I think we one-upped that incident the other night, when we pulled his car over in front of a house in Bill Gate's neighborhood and I went down on him in the back seat. That, my friends, is a story slightly more grown-up, but keeping with the same theme as before; I love messing around where we can get caught.
It started when he lived with three other guys. We were just beginning to explore each other physically, the intensity of which was exponentially increased by the fact that it was my first time exploring ANYONE physically, and for a while there it was as if we'd morphed into anxious 14 year olds, trying to do it everywhere without getting caught.
My favorite story of ours ever involves our 'taste' for all things outdoors...
We had driven around after dinner until he took me to a neighborhood park he used to play in, where we sat on a dock on the man-made lake until it got dark. As the stars started to peek out out of the darkening sky, our barely-suppressed libidos started to make their grand entrance into our evening. We started making out on the bench, then against the railing.... then we retraced our steps along the path, christening every corner with a flurry of kisses, caresses...
We got to our cars sitting near the road in the parking lot for the park, where we continued the kissing intermittent with laughter and jokes. He had me up on the trunk of my car, standing between my legs as we wrestled for dominance with our lips. Then in the back of his car, with me straddling his lap and tongues entangled.
And was we started to really get into the heat of things, a pair of headlights blared through the back of his car window... headlights paired with red and blue flashes.
We quickly straightened ourselves out, muttering curses under our breath between giggles as we realized how cliche was our situation. Cliche for middle-schoolers.
A torchlight came bobbing towards his car, in the hands of a slightly bemused police officer, who told us that public parks are closed after dusk and asked us to kindly take our leave.
Now that time was eventful, but I think we one-upped that incident the other night, when we pulled his car over in front of a house in Bill Gate's neighborhood and I went down on him in the back seat. That, my friends, is a story slightly more grown-up, but keeping with the same theme as before; I love messing around where we can get caught.
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