How creepy is someone when a creepy thinks that they are creepy? I wonder....
Darcy: We don't have v-ball practice today because of the holiday.
Darcy: But there's a game tomorrow.
Chickenkiller: are you a couch
Darcy: Yeah.
followed by....
Chickenkiller: spoke to this werid girl on pof the other day
Darcy: she said she cant stop thinking about me
Darcy: Well aren't you lucky?
Chickenkiller: and she was like when can we meet so my dreams can come true
Darcy : wow...
Chickenkiller: and i knew her for 2 days
Darcy: Yeah...isn't that a bit odd?
Chickenkiller: ya so i blocked her
Chickenkiller: i wish u live in ny
Chickenkiller: so we can hang out
And that was that
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sometimes I don't even have to try
I know I haven't updated in a while. Fear not, here's a post to tide you over. There is a guy that I've been talking to that I kind of like (he reminds me of Dickhole Pete in his general awesomeness. That's the only way that they are similiar) but I haven't thought of a name yet. So be ready for that when it comes.
Instead, I bring you a story. It actually doesn't involve me at all. We all remember Trogdor correct? Well, Trogdor wanted to be a writer. He's not a very good writer. I know some people that are actually good writers. He is so not one of them. He wrote a story of erotic fiction. And here it is (warning - there's some inappropriate language in here...nothing worse than what I've said though....)
Rising on the Road
Erotic Fiction - Heterosexual
Written by Trogdor
My name’s Chris. I’ve always been one of those introverted, bookish types. You’ll never see me travel without a book in my hand. Jeez, you’ll never see me without a book in my hand period. I only say travel because this story takes place on a bus ride from New York to Boston. I was going there to see an old friend from college. After an excruciating wait at Gate 84 of Port Authority Bus Terminal, I found a window seat towards the back of the bus. I open my duffel bag, take out my copy of Ernest Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms, close the bag, and put it in the overhead compartment. I open it up and begin reading.
As I read, this lean-looking blonde with hazel eyes, a solid figure, tight black pants, and a white tank top stops at the seat next to me and sits down. I attempt to appear enraptured in my book. She looks over and asks, “What are you reading?” I tell her. She says, “That cover’s hot.” The cover is of a man and woman engaged in a passionate kiss. I tell her, “Yeah. Those are the main characters.”
“Is it a romance?”
I guess you don’t know your Hemingway too well, I think to myself. “Kinda,” I said. “It takes place during World War I, and this ambulance driver falls in love with a nurse.”
“Really,” she says. “Do they have hot sex?”
“Oh yeah,” I tease. “They do it in the hospital, they do it in the ambulance, they even do it in the guys’ barracks.”
“Really,” she said as her hazel eyes took on that seductive glare.
“Yeah, really,” I respond.
“Can I borrow it for a bit?” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.
“Well, what would you do for it?”
“I’ll take out my blanket and share it with you.”
I put my chin between my thumb and forefinger, look at her for a few seconds, and say, “Oh fine, if you insist.”
“Jerk,” she says lightly as she taps me lightly on the shoulder.
She reaches into the overhead compartment, takes out a white blanket decorated with red lips, and spreads it over both of us. In return, I hand her the book.
The bus driver makes his announcements about final destinations, rules for bus etiquette, etc., as I take out my journal and begin writing, while she starts reading. Pure silence for an hour, as she continues to read and I begin writing random thoughts in my journal. “Horny.” “Suck me.” “Lick me.” “Fuck me.” As these thoughts are making their way to the paper, I feel a tiny hand rubbing against the upper part of my left leg. That hand, of course, is connecting to her body, while her eyes stare straight ahead with a seductive glare, as if she’s trying to bed the back of the seat in front of her.
She unzips my pants slowly. She then reaches in and fondles my genital area outside of my underwear. My penis is throbbing hard. As she continues to fondle, I reach my left hand under her blanket and begin to rub against her bare leg. Her glare turns to a smile, as she closes her eyes and gives a hard squinty smile. I slowly move her leg and towards her thigh, just above the seam of her pants. I then reach my hand inside her pants and begin to fondle with the tip of her clitoris. She begins breathing heavily as she strokes my cock harder and faster. I reach my fingers into her pussy and start fingering in and out. Harder. Faster. She breathes heavier and her pussy gets wetter as she strokes faster and my cock gets harder. I’m full of aggression as I feel fire coming out of my nose as I fondle harder. My cock is now at its maximum erectional capacity. I feel sperm coming on as I fondle harder, and I shoot right into her hand as her clitoris retracts. She closes her eyes and the lips of her mouth spread out in a wide smile. She lays her head on my chest as I scratch her leg slowly. I feel my eyes closing shut.
I’m woken by an announcement that says, “We’re now arriving in Boston. Please check around your seating area for any items you may have brought on board.” I slowly open my eyes as my new companion slowly lies off my chest and raises her arms. I do the same and give her a smile. As I’m wondering what to say, she reaches into the overhead compartment and pulls down her pocketbook. She takes out a pen and a piece of paper and writes on it. “Give me a call when you get back to New York,” she says as she smiles seductively, flips her hair around, and walks into the aisle. I take it out and it reads, “212-745-1893.” No name?
That explains so much. Just so much. Who writes like that? When I read "maximium erectional capacity" I almost died. That's just not right. But you can bet your ass I am going to use it whenever I can. It's just such an awkward story and it's not written well and geeeeeeeeeeeeeeez.
As I said to Summer...Trogdor wanting to be a writer and getting erotic fiction published is on par with me wanting to be a radio DJ (cause I do) and instead being a phone sex operator. It's just not the same and doesn't equal what you're looking for.
Instead, I bring you a story. It actually doesn't involve me at all. We all remember Trogdor correct? Well, Trogdor wanted to be a writer. He's not a very good writer. I know some people that are actually good writers. He is so not one of them. He wrote a story of erotic fiction. And here it is (warning - there's some inappropriate language in here...nothing worse than what I've said though....)
Rising on the Road
Erotic Fiction - Heterosexual
Written by Trogdor
My name’s Chris. I’ve always been one of those introverted, bookish types. You’ll never see me travel without a book in my hand. Jeez, you’ll never see me without a book in my hand period. I only say travel because this story takes place on a bus ride from New York to Boston. I was going there to see an old friend from college. After an excruciating wait at Gate 84 of Port Authority Bus Terminal, I found a window seat towards the back of the bus. I open my duffel bag, take out my copy of Ernest Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms, close the bag, and put it in the overhead compartment. I open it up and begin reading.
As I read, this lean-looking blonde with hazel eyes, a solid figure, tight black pants, and a white tank top stops at the seat next to me and sits down. I attempt to appear enraptured in my book. She looks over and asks, “What are you reading?” I tell her. She says, “That cover’s hot.” The cover is of a man and woman engaged in a passionate kiss. I tell her, “Yeah. Those are the main characters.”
“Is it a romance?”
I guess you don’t know your Hemingway too well, I think to myself. “Kinda,” I said. “It takes place during World War I, and this ambulance driver falls in love with a nurse.”
“Really,” she says. “Do they have hot sex?”
“Oh yeah,” I tease. “They do it in the hospital, they do it in the ambulance, they even do it in the guys’ barracks.”
“Really,” she said as her hazel eyes took on that seductive glare.
“Yeah, really,” I respond.
“Can I borrow it for a bit?” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.
“Well, what would you do for it?”
“I’ll take out my blanket and share it with you.”
I put my chin between my thumb and forefinger, look at her for a few seconds, and say, “Oh fine, if you insist.”
“Jerk,” she says lightly as she taps me lightly on the shoulder.
She reaches into the overhead compartment, takes out a white blanket decorated with red lips, and spreads it over both of us. In return, I hand her the book.
The bus driver makes his announcements about final destinations, rules for bus etiquette, etc., as I take out my journal and begin writing, while she starts reading. Pure silence for an hour, as she continues to read and I begin writing random thoughts in my journal. “Horny.” “Suck me.” “Lick me.” “Fuck me.” As these thoughts are making their way to the paper, I feel a tiny hand rubbing against the upper part of my left leg. That hand, of course, is connecting to her body, while her eyes stare straight ahead with a seductive glare, as if she’s trying to bed the back of the seat in front of her.
She unzips my pants slowly. She then reaches in and fondles my genital area outside of my underwear. My penis is throbbing hard. As she continues to fondle, I reach my left hand under her blanket and begin to rub against her bare leg. Her glare turns to a smile, as she closes her eyes and gives a hard squinty smile. I slowly move her leg and towards her thigh, just above the seam of her pants. I then reach my hand inside her pants and begin to fondle with the tip of her clitoris. She begins breathing heavily as she strokes my cock harder and faster. I reach my fingers into her pussy and start fingering in and out. Harder. Faster. She breathes heavier and her pussy gets wetter as she strokes faster and my cock gets harder. I’m full of aggression as I feel fire coming out of my nose as I fondle harder. My cock is now at its maximum erectional capacity. I feel sperm coming on as I fondle harder, and I shoot right into her hand as her clitoris retracts. She closes her eyes and the lips of her mouth spread out in a wide smile. She lays her head on my chest as I scratch her leg slowly. I feel my eyes closing shut.
I’m woken by an announcement that says, “We’re now arriving in Boston. Please check around your seating area for any items you may have brought on board.” I slowly open my eyes as my new companion slowly lies off my chest and raises her arms. I do the same and give her a smile. As I’m wondering what to say, she reaches into the overhead compartment and pulls down her pocketbook. She takes out a pen and a piece of paper and writes on it. “Give me a call when you get back to New York,” she says as she smiles seductively, flips her hair around, and walks into the aisle. I take it out and it reads, “212-745-1893.” No name?
That explains so much. Just so much. Who writes like that? When I read "maximium erectional capacity" I almost died. That's just not right. But you can bet your ass I am going to use it whenever I can. It's just such an awkward story and it's not written well and geeeeeeeeeeeeeeez.
As I said to Summer...Trogdor wanting to be a writer and getting erotic fiction published is on par with me wanting to be a radio DJ (cause I do) and instead being a phone sex operator. It's just not the same and doesn't equal what you're looking for.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
I just laughed so hard, people must think I'm crazy....
Gee, thanks Darcy!
Chickenkiller52: hey darcy
D: Hey Chicken!
D: How's it going?
Chickenkiller52: good and u
Chickenkiller52: i kissed a girl the other day
Chickenkiller52: and she told me she doesnt want to be my friend becuz i kiss bad
D: Aww..that stinks... Well, that's at least another person you know you don't want to be w/.
Chickenkiller52: its ok
D: And I'm doing well..Getting ready for practice...
Chickenkiller52: i need practice
D: :)
Chickenkiller52: i cant kiss u
D: I'm sure that will all come in due time.
Chickenkiller52: u live far
D: I wasn't suggesting it. :)
Chickenkiller52: ohh
Chickenkiller52: i was
D: I realized.
My favorite part? The end where Darcy says "I realized". I can just imagine her saying that...
Chickenkiller52: hey darcy
D: Hey Chicken!
D: How's it going?
Chickenkiller52: good and u
Chickenkiller52: i kissed a girl the other day
Chickenkiller52: and she told me she doesnt want to be my friend becuz i kiss bad
D: Aww..that stinks... Well, that's at least another person you know you don't want to be w/.
Chickenkiller52: its ok
D: And I'm doing well..Getting ready for practice...
Chickenkiller52: i need practice
D: :)
Chickenkiller52: i cant kiss u
D: I'm sure that will all come in due time.
Chickenkiller52: u live far
D: I wasn't suggesting it. :)
Chickenkiller52: ohh
Chickenkiller52: i was
D: I realized.
My favorite part? The end where Darcy says "I realized". I can just imagine her saying that...
Friday, September 19, 2008
Admitting something really bad....
Here’s the secret – Miley Cyrus and I? Total BFFs. How do I know this? Simple. Everytime I listen to “7 things I hate about you” I can imagine a boyfriend (it’s Boots. I should stop trying to be coy, because it’s Boots. FUCKING BOOTS) and I sing along. Except I don’t have just 7 things I hate about him. I have so many more than that. And the parts that she loves, which are mostly the same as the parts that she hates? Not so much in my case. I would share these things but A) it would be horribly boring B) I don’t think I really could name all the things that made me angry C) there very few things I like, but the ones I do like would be total overshares (not that I’m not into oversharing…but this is a massive overshare and D) I just don’t care enough.
But when she’s singing about hating his hair and his eyes and how he loves her but likes someone else…it’s like it’s my life! I share a life with a 15 year old pop star. We’re so alike, you know. Her dad is Billy Ray Cyrus….my dad listens to country music. She has her own TV show….I amuse myself thinking I’m on my own TV show. She has thousands of adoring fans…there are 7 people that read my blog! We’re so even.
I read a blog post today (remember my problem with Google reader? Good, me too) about how some girls whine about not having boyfriends. And the first thought I had was “ohmygodisthatmeIreallyhopenot”. Seriously. Just like that, all my words crammed together in one, big awkward word. Am I that whiney? I don’t think I whine about being single. I’m not going to lie, being single isn’t exactly my idea of a fun time, but it’s not so bad. I guess I’m just getting tired of myself, you know? I like hanging out with my friends and having fun and never having to check with someone to make sure that I’m not supposed to be anywhere else…but I bore myself. I’m done with dragging my friends to see movies that they don’t want to see and going out to bars and dancing with myself because some people (like SUMMER) don’t dance. I just want someone to bring some more entertainment into my life. And I need a boy because I can’t be a girl all the time. I can’t. It’s just not in me. I’m not really a tom-boy, persay, but I just can’t put on makeup and heels and prance around all the time. Mostly because instead of prancing, I crash into things and hurt myself. And really, trying to make yourself really interesting is actually totally exhausting. I just want to…holy crap, now I am the whiney girl. Sorry guys.
But seriously, am I being whiney? Someone? Anyone?
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Might as well face it, you're addicted to blogs
I have Google reader. This is very dangerous. Google reader may or may not be the reason that I get nothing done at work. I’m sure it totally has nothing to do with how much I hate my job. Regardless, it’s awesome. If you don’t have Google reader and you read a lot of blogs, you better get your ass on it. Also, it helps to make you not look like a stalker crazy person from someone that might have Google analytics. Not that I would obsessively check blogs I liked all the time. Nope, not me.
I’m getting away from the point though (if I actually have one, that is). I’ve been reading all sorts of blogs. Some of the blogs I found through 20 something bloggers and some of them I found through other people’s blogs. Regardless, almost all of the blogs that I read are written by 20 something ladies that are just as lovely as myself. Here’s the thing – we’ve all been burned so badly. We all have a Boots in our life. We all have an ex-boyfriend that we KNOW is so bad for us, but we continue to think that maybe MAYBE things would work again. These girls, whoever they are, are with me in this mess. They are searching for some man that isn’t going to be like the others. We all are. And in that, we are together. It makes me wonder how many of us there are. I’m sure that there are thousands. But it makes the situation seem somehow not so terrible. Sometimes, I’m selfish with my feelings. I feel like when I’m upset or depressed or angry that I am the ONLY person that has ever felt that way. I know, deep down, that I’m not. But because I’ve become so wrapped up in myself, I can’t think of that. It’s nice to know that there are other people that have thrown everything they had into a relationship only to have the bottom drop out of them. It’s a relief to know that other girls have thought that they could make it work with an ex because they just needed him to be back in their life, even if it would be total chaos. And it’s awesome, so awesome, to know that some other girls feel the same sense of total anger that a guy could dump them for someone else. We know that we’re better than the guys that we dated. It doesn’t take the sting out of what’s going on. But we’ll be united.
The best part is the fact that most of them are hysterically funny and therefore, makes me feel inadequate. Thanks girls. In case you want to see what I’m talking about, check out these blogs:
...more than a blog
Chelsea talks smack
It's like I'm..mmmagic
Laughing thru my chardonnay
Strange Musing of a distrated spunk
This? Is not the life I ordered
And then, amongst us…a man. A man seeking a lovely lady. A man searching Match.com for someone who’s not a freak. He’s awesome and amuses me and he and I are on the same journey, just in different places and at different times. I have to give him a lot of credit for being a male blogger, nevermind a male blogger blogging about finding love on the internets. Check him out for serious.....
I’ve also just decided that perhaps we should make some sort of database that can include all these fuckhead men that seem to like to say one thing and do another or cheat on you or just break your heart for the fun of it. We could save a lot of other girls a lot of frustration. Of course, if it’s the girl that your boyfriend dumped you for, she deserves what she gets. Not that I’m mean and vindictive or anything. Again, that’s so not me.
Finally, I found this blog today. It amused me. I sent something in today…I bet when it’s posted, you’ll know it’s me. Reasons why I dumped you
I’m getting away from the point though (if I actually have one, that is). I’ve been reading all sorts of blogs. Some of the blogs I found through 20 something bloggers and some of them I found through other people’s blogs. Regardless, almost all of the blogs that I read are written by 20 something ladies that are just as lovely as myself. Here’s the thing – we’ve all been burned so badly. We all have a Boots in our life. We all have an ex-boyfriend that we KNOW is so bad for us, but we continue to think that maybe MAYBE things would work again. These girls, whoever they are, are with me in this mess. They are searching for some man that isn’t going to be like the others. We all are. And in that, we are together. It makes me wonder how many of us there are. I’m sure that there are thousands. But it makes the situation seem somehow not so terrible. Sometimes, I’m selfish with my feelings. I feel like when I’m upset or depressed or angry that I am the ONLY person that has ever felt that way. I know, deep down, that I’m not. But because I’ve become so wrapped up in myself, I can’t think of that. It’s nice to know that there are other people that have thrown everything they had into a relationship only to have the bottom drop out of them. It’s a relief to know that other girls have thought that they could make it work with an ex because they just needed him to be back in their life, even if it would be total chaos. And it’s awesome, so awesome, to know that some other girls feel the same sense of total anger that a guy could dump them for someone else. We know that we’re better than the guys that we dated. It doesn’t take the sting out of what’s going on. But we’ll be united.
The best part is the fact that most of them are hysterically funny and therefore, makes me feel inadequate. Thanks girls. In case you want to see what I’m talking about, check out these blogs:
...more than a blog
Chelsea talks smack
It's like I'm..mmmagic
Laughing thru my chardonnay
Strange Musing of a distrated spunk
This? Is not the life I ordered
And then, amongst us…a man. A man seeking a lovely lady. A man searching Match.com for someone who’s not a freak. He’s awesome and amuses me and he and I are on the same journey, just in different places and at different times. I have to give him a lot of credit for being a male blogger, nevermind a male blogger blogging about finding love on the internets. Check him out for serious.....
I’ve also just decided that perhaps we should make some sort of database that can include all these fuckhead men that seem to like to say one thing and do another or cheat on you or just break your heart for the fun of it. We could save a lot of other girls a lot of frustration. Of course, if it’s the girl that your boyfriend dumped you for, she deserves what she gets. Not that I’m mean and vindictive or anything. Again, that’s so not me.
Finally, I found this blog today. It amused me. I sent something in today…I bet when it’s posted, you’ll know it’s me. Reasons why I dumped you
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Nonsense
Last night, I was watching The Shield. I kind of love that show. The Statie got me into it and I've just been following it ever since. I kind of love Michael Chiklis. Just saying. Anyway, during the commercials, there were all sorts of ads for Chemistry.com, eharmony.com and match.com. Exactly who do they think is watching The Shield? I guess they figured it's people like me. People that are single and lonely and still up at 10:45 on a Tuesday night. They might have a point, but still. Didn't need to make it so clear. I just thought it was an interesting way to get the name out there. I watch a lot of TV and I've never seen so many ads for dating websites in a one hour show. Seriously, there had to be about 8 spots. They're onto me
On the radio this morning, there was some list from Glamour about things guys want girls to do. One of them was "give them the green light for sex". And it wasn't for sex with you. It was for sex with someone from your top 5 list of celebrities that you would sleep with. You know, that list you have of people that you would totally sleep with, no questions asked if you were to stumble upon them in the street. The way I see it, if some guy I'm dating wants to sleep with Kirsten Dunst, I'm going to give him the green light to do so. The probability of him actually meeting her and sleeping with her is so low. I gave this some thought while I was driving in...so here's my top 5, in no real order (edit: I was having some formatting issues in that I couldn't get the words to be with the pictures. So deal with what's going on below and like it)
1. Christian Bale - So hot in Batman. So hot in The Prestige. Totally want him.
2. Hugh Jackman - Totally wanted to have Wolverine's babies. Can we see why?
3. Trent Reznor - So angry and yet, so jacked up. He's twisted. I kind of love that.
4. Brandon Boyd - Not only do I love his music, but I think that he's totally adorable
5. And finally...Brad Pitt. I think he's on everyone's top 5. I loved him in Fight Club and I loved him in Snatch. Can't wait to see him in Burn After Reading.
Here's the question...who's in your top 5?
On the radio this morning, there was some list from Glamour about things guys want girls to do. One of them was "give them the green light for sex". And it wasn't for sex with you. It was for sex with someone from your top 5 list of celebrities that you would sleep with. You know, that list you have of people that you would totally sleep with, no questions asked if you were to stumble upon them in the street. The way I see it, if some guy I'm dating wants to sleep with Kirsten Dunst, I'm going to give him the green light to do so. The probability of him actually meeting her and sleeping with her is so low. I gave this some thought while I was driving in...so here's my top 5, in no real order (edit: I was having some formatting issues in that I couldn't get the words to be with the pictures. So deal with what's going on below and like it)
1. Christian Bale - So hot in Batman. So hot in The Prestige. Totally want him.
2. Hugh Jackman - Totally wanted to have Wolverine's babies. Can we see why?
3. Trent Reznor - So angry and yet, so jacked up. He's twisted. I kind of love that.
4. Brandon Boyd - Not only do I love his music, but I think that he's totally adorable
5. And finally...Brad Pitt. I think he's on everyone's top 5. I loved him in Fight Club and I loved him in Snatch. Can't wait to see him in Burn After Reading.
Here's the question...who's in your top 5?
Friday, September 12, 2008
Then I'll do it too!
Everyone has been blogging today. Or so it seems. I’ve been sitting here for a while thinking about what I wanted to blog about…and I came up with…nothing. Really. Nothing has been happening. I’ve been talking to the guy that I mentioned in the previous post. For lack of a better name, this guy will be dubbed “Shortie”. It’s for lack of a better name. We haven’t talked about his lack of height yet. Maybe he didn’t notice my height on my profile? Should I even bring it up? I think I should let him figure it out for himself.
He’s made a couple of slips here and there that make me not really have good vibes about him. For example, I walked into the coffee table at Summer’s house. Why? Well, why not?! Actually, it was because I’m incapable of not walking into things. I slammed my knee into the corner of the table and that felt FREAKING FANTASTIC. I now have a huge bruise on my kneecap and I scraped it as well. So I told him that I went to the gym and I was kneeling down on the treadmill to tie my sneaker and my knee, it pained me. He goes “oh, my poor baby”. I called him on it and told him that that was a total creeper thing to say and to never say that again. Like, I don’t mind sympathy. I do mind when someone thinks I’m a possession of theirs when they don’t even know me. Don’t even go there, buddy. Other than that, he’s been okay. He was telling me about himself last night, but I was too exhausted to really care. I’ll be away all this weekend so maybe I can figure out what’s going on.
Something weird has been happening to me. Every night, I’ve been having these strange dreams where there’s a guy that I want to be with. And the guy always bears a slight resemblance to someone else that I wanted to hook up with/date/kiss/have babies with. I wake up and I’m so confused as to what happened. The guy in last night’s dream looked like Cheesy Fries. I don’t remember what I was trying to do other than find Not Cheesy Fries. But I woke up and I was convinced that this guy was someone that I actually knew. You know those first seconds of waking up when you can’t separate a dream from what’s really going on? That’s my issue. And every night – a different guy. I’m a slut in my dreams. That takes talent right there.
In sad news, the man with the hot ass from the gym has a girlfriend. Not that I thought that he would ever look my way, but it was fun to look at such an attractive man and imagine. But NO. Last night he was working out with his girlfriend and I was disturbed. She was on one of the weight machines and after every set, he would kiss her. Like, excuse me? You are at the gym. I could have wrecked that girl. I should have told him that if he decided he didn’t want to be the skinny bitch to let me know. But I didn’t. Instead I ran on the treadmill and used that as inspiration to move my ass faster.
That brings me to another, totally unrelated point that I’ve been debating about whether to post or not. So here goes. I’ve mentioned that I haven’t really had sex in over a year (we’re not counting Nacho because there was a party in my pants and he clearly didn’t get the invite). Since graduating from college, I’ve gained some weight. I mean, enough weight that I went up a size in clothing. As I’ve noted, I’m not a skinny girl. And that being said, I’m really insecure about my body. I know guys like girls that are confident and don’t care. That’s something I can fake. I can fake being totally in love with myself because I can fake it well. I’ve been doing it for years. I just don’t want to be one of those fat girls that doesn’t know that they are fat. Like, a fat girl in denial. I don’t want to be that girl. So I try to avoid it as much as possible.
And yes, I know that if someone likes me enough to go out with me, then that clearly doesn’t bother them. I know if someone wants to sleep with me, they don’t care. But I do care. That is why sleeping with an ex-boyfriend never occurred to be to be a bad idea (other than it’s an ex-boyfriend and there could still be feelings and so on and so forth). The ex, would know my body. In the way that I wouldn’t have to hide behind sheets or in the dark. It’s always awkward to be naked with someone you don’t really know. Even when you start dating someone and you start having sex…still awkward.
It comes down to me learning to be comfortable in my own skin again. There was a period when I LOVED my body. It was my senior year of college and I lost a lot of weight before I went back to school. I was dating Boots at that point (still). We hadn’t seen each other at all over the summer. He saw some pictures that were taken and he said “who is that smoking hot blonde chick?” because he had no idea it was me. I told him that he was an asshole and that was me and he was shocked. That, for me, was the point that I had the control back in my hands and I felt confident. That was an amazing time, even though Boots was a TOTAL ASSHOLE. Now I’m trying to drop the weight that I’ve gained so that I can be back at that point and feel like that again. I want to feel like I can control the world, even if I can’t.
He’s made a couple of slips here and there that make me not really have good vibes about him. For example, I walked into the coffee table at Summer’s house. Why? Well, why not?! Actually, it was because I’m incapable of not walking into things. I slammed my knee into the corner of the table and that felt FREAKING FANTASTIC. I now have a huge bruise on my kneecap and I scraped it as well. So I told him that I went to the gym and I was kneeling down on the treadmill to tie my sneaker and my knee, it pained me. He goes “oh, my poor baby”. I called him on it and told him that that was a total creeper thing to say and to never say that again. Like, I don’t mind sympathy. I do mind when someone thinks I’m a possession of theirs when they don’t even know me. Don’t even go there, buddy. Other than that, he’s been okay. He was telling me about himself last night, but I was too exhausted to really care. I’ll be away all this weekend so maybe I can figure out what’s going on.
Something weird has been happening to me. Every night, I’ve been having these strange dreams where there’s a guy that I want to be with. And the guy always bears a slight resemblance to someone else that I wanted to hook up with/date/kiss/have babies with. I wake up and I’m so confused as to what happened. The guy in last night’s dream looked like Cheesy Fries. I don’t remember what I was trying to do other than find Not Cheesy Fries. But I woke up and I was convinced that this guy was someone that I actually knew. You know those first seconds of waking up when you can’t separate a dream from what’s really going on? That’s my issue. And every night – a different guy. I’m a slut in my dreams. That takes talent right there.
In sad news, the man with the hot ass from the gym has a girlfriend. Not that I thought that he would ever look my way, but it was fun to look at such an attractive man and imagine. But NO. Last night he was working out with his girlfriend and I was disturbed. She was on one of the weight machines and after every set, he would kiss her. Like, excuse me? You are at the gym. I could have wrecked that girl. I should have told him that if he decided he didn’t want to be the skinny bitch to let me know. But I didn’t. Instead I ran on the treadmill and used that as inspiration to move my ass faster.
That brings me to another, totally unrelated point that I’ve been debating about whether to post or not. So here goes. I’ve mentioned that I haven’t really had sex in over a year (we’re not counting Nacho because there was a party in my pants and he clearly didn’t get the invite). Since graduating from college, I’ve gained some weight. I mean, enough weight that I went up a size in clothing. As I’ve noted, I’m not a skinny girl. And that being said, I’m really insecure about my body. I know guys like girls that are confident and don’t care. That’s something I can fake. I can fake being totally in love with myself because I can fake it well. I’ve been doing it for years. I just don’t want to be one of those fat girls that doesn’t know that they are fat. Like, a fat girl in denial. I don’t want to be that girl. So I try to avoid it as much as possible.
And yes, I know that if someone likes me enough to go out with me, then that clearly doesn’t bother them. I know if someone wants to sleep with me, they don’t care. But I do care. That is why sleeping with an ex-boyfriend never occurred to be to be a bad idea (other than it’s an ex-boyfriend and there could still be feelings and so on and so forth). The ex, would know my body. In the way that I wouldn’t have to hide behind sheets or in the dark. It’s always awkward to be naked with someone you don’t really know. Even when you start dating someone and you start having sex…still awkward.
It comes down to me learning to be comfortable in my own skin again. There was a period when I LOVED my body. It was my senior year of college and I lost a lot of weight before I went back to school. I was dating Boots at that point (still). We hadn’t seen each other at all over the summer. He saw some pictures that were taken and he said “who is that smoking hot blonde chick?” because he had no idea it was me. I told him that he was an asshole and that was me and he was shocked. That, for me, was the point that I had the control back in my hands and I felt confident. That was an amazing time, even though Boots was a TOTAL ASSHOLE. Now I’m trying to drop the weight that I’ve gained so that I can be back at that point and feel like that again. I want to feel like I can control the world, even if I can’t.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Another Gem
I signed online today and Darcy had this awesomeness for me
Chickenkiller52: i did think of something if we did date it would be like online bf and gf
Chickenkiller52: so thats why we wouldnt work out
Darcy: Who..you and me?
Me:: stop it
Me:what is he, 15?
Darcy: Chickenkiller52: ya
Darcy: Yeah, I wouldn't go for a situation like that anyways... [internet dating]
Me: in the days of AOL?
Darcy: Darcy: I think this all works out for the best.
Chickenkiller52: ya
Chickenkiller52: so i am over u
Me: oh, Darcy
Me: i know your heart is broken
Darcy: Actually, he just had his b-day...he's 24...
Me: but i will help you with the healing process
Darcy: I know...
Chickenkiller52: i did think of something if we did date it would be like online bf and gf
Chickenkiller52: so thats why we wouldnt work out
Darcy: Who..you and me?
Me:: stop it
Me:what is he, 15?
Darcy: Chickenkiller52: ya
Darcy: Yeah, I wouldn't go for a situation like that anyways... [internet dating]
Me: in the days of AOL?
Darcy: Darcy: I think this all works out for the best.
Chickenkiller52: ya
Chickenkiller52: so i am over u
Me: oh, Darcy
Me: i know your heart is broken
Darcy: Actually, he just had his b-day...he's 24...
Me: but i will help you with the healing process
Darcy: I know...
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Lack of updating - I'm so lame
Really, I haven't trying lately. That's the real reason that I haven't been searching for boys. I was in Vermont last weekend and this weekend I'm going to MA with Darcy.
I've sent winks to a couple of guys on Match and I've gotten a message or two, but nothing exciting. I'm talking to a guy now and he seems pretty nice. There's just one thing that kind of bothers me and I'm not sure if it's just me being shallow or what. He's only 5'7". I'm 5'10". It comes down to how much the difference in height actually bothers me. I dated a guy that was really short (he was 5'4"). So maybe I won't notice the 3 inches if I really like him. As Darcy would say, I can make a deal breaking issue of anything. I was willing to overlook The Statie's drinking because I liked him. I'm going to keep on talking to him and see what happens. Like I said, so far, so good. We realized that we like one of the same and weirdest movies. We both love "Empire Records". I think he's the only person I've ever talked to that actually likes that movie as much as I do.
Why don't I have any more guy friends either? Once The Brewmaster moved out to Chicago, it's like I have no other males to hang out with. I don't work with that many guys either. I had so many guy friends at school and then I came back home and I had no one. Really the only guy I hang out with is Summer's Husband. Or some of Summer's Husband's friends. And well....we all know what I have to say about them.
I've sent winks to a couple of guys on Match and I've gotten a message or two, but nothing exciting. I'm talking to a guy now and he seems pretty nice. There's just one thing that kind of bothers me and I'm not sure if it's just me being shallow or what. He's only 5'7". I'm 5'10". It comes down to how much the difference in height actually bothers me. I dated a guy that was really short (he was 5'4"). So maybe I won't notice the 3 inches if I really like him. As Darcy would say, I can make a deal breaking issue of anything. I was willing to overlook The Statie's drinking because I liked him. I'm going to keep on talking to him and see what happens. Like I said, so far, so good. We realized that we like one of the same and weirdest movies. We both love "Empire Records". I think he's the only person I've ever talked to that actually likes that movie as much as I do.
Why don't I have any more guy friends either? Once The Brewmaster moved out to Chicago, it's like I have no other males to hang out with. I don't work with that many guys either. I had so many guy friends at school and then I came back home and I had no one. Really the only guy I hang out with is Summer's Husband. Or some of Summer's Husband's friends. And well....we all know what I have to say about them.
Monday, September 1, 2008
HAHAHA, NO
I just got this message on Match: "hi 27 m here, looking for a woman into the beastiality scene here in ct.. interested at all?"
I would go with a solid no on that one.
Then there was another guy that winked at me and he seemed okay. He sent me 3 messages, all titled "hello". The first one asked how I was today. The second one, he commented that I liked the Giants. And in the third one, he wanted to know what I did in my spare time. Is he confused?
I would go with a solid no on that one.
Then there was another guy that winked at me and he seemed okay. He sent me 3 messages, all titled "hello". The first one asked how I was today. The second one, he commented that I liked the Giants. And in the third one, he wanted to know what I did in my spare time. Is he confused?
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