A Few of My Favorite Things.

**I wrote the post at the end of this one but am now sitting down to write again.***

I am a stupid, dumb, insane, emotional, and silly girl.

I have got to come up with a new plan of How To Be. I am vaguely getting there.

OK so I made this new resolution not to be with someone, not to have a thing with anyone. To be alone for now.

And I knew that I was going to have to have a conversation with a particular someone. We met up to hang out. He is whip smart, funny, and great, so I had to keep telling myself I Will Not Have A Thing. I Will Not Have A Thing. I Will NOT Have A Thing.

And then we actually got to the part of the evening when he said 'I like you and I want to have a thing.'

Really? Awesome! Great! Let's go! I dig this guy! Only. . .er. . .

I Will Not Have A Thing.

So I looked at him and said it. I Will Not Have A Thing.

And he got it. He's completely cool with it. He took a chance but it didn't pan out and he's fine.

But me?

I am doing the right thing. But I'm pouty and bitchy and annoyed and sulky about it. Waaaaaaah it's not what I waaaaaaant. And I'm lamenting Not Having A Thing as though I'm not also responsible for that decision. This is your choice, so live with it, WryGirl! Suck it up! Do the work!

Then maybe you'll truly get what you want instead of just what you want right now.

Oh, but I also wonder if I'm an idiot for passing this up.

But not really.







*****There are a bunch of real topics I could write about, but I'm not in the mood. Moving out of my old house. Friendship. Loss and Transition.

But what I'd really like to write about is the great sex I had. Oh -- haha-- that's right. I haven't had any great sex in about, er, for-fucking-ever! So I'm going to just remember some nice, general moments.

Heavy making out, then he wordlessly gets up on his knees and parts my thighs.

We're spooned in bed. He's behind me and he pulls my top leg back an over his so he can enter from behind.

He pulls my hair. Whenever. For whatever reason.

As foreplay, he pushes me onto the bed, pushes up my skirt, and smacks my ass.

He reaches behind me, pulls my bra tight, and runs a hand over the taught fabric stretched over my nipple.

He bites my ear and I say 'OW!. . .Do it again.'

I tell him I read a spanking story on the internet for the first time and it got me hot. He offers to spank me. He studies up and does it right.

He forgets the one item he was sent to buy because of the insane blowjob I gave him in the car.

OK now I'm just torturing myself.

It's all good. I miss it all.

Apt Metaphor.

Today I taught a young girl how to jump off stuff.

She's slight, reserved, and easily spooked.

There was a structure that she scrambled onto, but then didn't want to just scramble off of again. She asked for my hand so that she could stand up. Wobbly and hesitant, she straightened her legs and stood.

She practiced standing for a while, sometimes venturing to almost let go of my hand.

Then she said she wanted to jump off. She still held my hand and she plopped down.

She climbed back on.

Again, the shaky standing, the hand-holding, the plop.

We did it a few times. Every time I had to remind her that she had just done it, that she knew she could.

Finally she let go of my hand. "Can I jump?" I said yes. She wanted me to have arms ready to catch her. She plopped off again, but this time on her own.

You would not have believed her grin.

Climbed up, got ready, waited for me, jumped off.

Same grin.

Climbed up, got ready, told me to put my arms down. Jumped.

Climbed up, needed my hand, let go, jumped.

Climbed up, pointed me to back up but with my arms ready, jumped.

Climbed up, pointed me to stack back but with my arms ready, jumped.

Climbed up, needed my hand, held on, and jumped off the other side.

Climbed up, held my hand, jumped off the other side.

Climbed up, let go of my hand, jumped off the other side.

Jump. Climb. Jump. Climb.

On her face was a touching mix of fear, happiness, and determination.

She didn't know how it would go each time she climbed up, but she always asked for what she needed to feel safe. Then she jumped.

Right.

Got it.

Tidy Up.

So I never would have guessed it, but grooming is pretty relevant now.

I could be naked at any time, unexpectedly.

Let's leave out the option of actual sex, because I've sworn off that. The whole scenerio of stripping, laying myself flat on a cool set of sheets and being climbed on top of -- totally not the issue! It's not like I'm going to take off my top, and need to worry about someone noticing my underarm stubble -- that is, if he isn't already fixated on my breasts. Irrelevant! Oh -- or making sure that my bush is trimmed to allow for easy entry -- I am so not considering that.

Well OK I'm thinking about it right now for a minute.

Mmmmmmmmmm.

What I mean is finding myself on a virtual stranger's roofdeck and deciding to climb into the hot tub. Who planned this? Not me. My modesty causes me to pause for a moment, but hell yeah, otherwise I'm in. But, like, I still want to look tidy and trim and pretty. Hair sprouting everywhere? So totally not my look.

But clearly there are new opportunites for us single moms when the kid is at Dad's house. Hot tubs! Roofdecks!

And by the way, I am so not thinking about that easy entry thing.

Gotta go.

Mike Brady Wanna-Be

So a word about my new landlady/roommate.

You're groaning already. Yes, we live together and she also owns the house.

She is an architect.

Did you ever see the Brady Bunch movie? Mike Brady keeps designing buildings for his company, only they all look like his own house.

Every design element of her renovation is completely wacked. I can't have cupboards because she didn't plan for the window or the overhead pipes. That kind of thing. She ordered all new eco- watersaver toilets and I got the first one. I flushed it about 45 minutes ago and I think it's still filling, drip by drip.

Fuck! Agh! Idiocy!!!!!!!

My Next Brilliant Plan.

First of all, I'm not sleeping with anyone. I'm not dating anyone. And anyone who might have been on the horizon, past or future, is out of luck. I've made an executive decision and I'm trying it on for size right now: I'm going to be by myself for a while. Some may call this a regression to my old celibacy pact. Well, OK, I guess that has merit. But the difference is that I'm not going to seek or cultivate a relationship, not just sex. Sex is out too, by the way.

So call it a Loneliness/Celibacy Pact. Haha.

I have no real interest in being lonely. That will just happen, I bet.

I have no real interest in being sexually frustrated. That will happen too.

What I really want is to change. I want to stop looking toward other people for groundedness or balance. For 30+ years that's what I got from my mother. Then I looked to various men.

Let me give you an example: if I like a man, my mood depends on whether or not he emails or calls me. No no, let me re-state that. My entire state of mind, my inner peace is shattered if I don't hear from him when I think I ought to. That's just a small example. I'm easily and disasterously unhinged by factors and relationships outside myself.

I need to learn how to be centered inwardly. To know who I am, to determine this new life without regard to what anyone else thinks or feels. To trust myself beyond all others.

Another example: last summer my grandmother basically called me a drunk and a bad mother. I actually tried to sit down with her later and engage her in a conversation about it. What??!!!?? Who the fuck does she think she is and more importantly why did I actually consider her opinion, when in my heart, I know she's dead wrong?

I don't know if I'm saying this the way I want to. But you don't have to completely get it. I do. I need to be alone, with all the implications.

Yippee. What a fucking blast.

Bang/Pow.

Well only, like, a million years later and once again I have internet.

I'm in my new apartment. Sitting on the floor with the keyboard on my lap.

This place, still going through renovations, is a complete mess. So far it's a positive move, though.

Got a couple personal things (read: fucking) that I've considered but am going to say 'no thanks' to for now. One was an impetuous idea that needs to be ditched. The other is fairly significant but the timing is wrong. I do, after all, need to spend some time alone and figure things out. It's the sort of thing that when I don't get a phone call, I start getting wiggy. If I know that I'm not balanced or thinking squarely, I can't really go any further. I'll explain more soon.

Now I go a-searchin' for the box of forks.