Bitchy? Really? Are you serious? That is a side of your personality I've never seen. And believe me when I say - there are sides of my character that you haven't seen. But I'm not really surprised at either of us. It's not that we are hiding parts of ourselves it's just that we never need to use those darker parts of our character. Nice isn't it? Nice to know someone that doesn't piss you off all the time. Hallmarks of a healthy, functioning, positive relationship. I love it.
And, who cares? So you kick ass once in a while. Good for you. I'm sure you're good at it. And now you get to kick Mr. Vancouver's ass. Go girl.
I loved your story about the "enginerd." Poor guy. He may not have the largest tool in the shed but he's a survivor and doing the best he can. Have you seen this video by Russell Peters? Russell Peters and the penis size theory. Opps, I just fell over - he kills me. Canadian too! BTW, according to his theory, my dick is getting smaller every day.
Thanks for calling the other day. Great to hear your voice and to talk with you. Looking forward to breakfast with you when you're in town. I'm thrilled that you and the Dog Whisperer are doing well. You deserve love and appreciation. I'm glad you are calmer and satisfied. Your efforts and patience are paying off.
So you went to NYC. Really? Without me? Seriously, I need to hear about your trip. I love it there. I would go in a heartbeat.
Speaking of rabbits I'm feeling like one. Remember the gal I told you about with the daughter and the dog. Well we hooked up. Actually, we got tangled up. Well, not us but our dogs; just like in 101 Dalmatians. Have a look at the 40 second mark, you'll see what I mean. Seriously. I'm in love. I'm not kidding. I even tell her as much. And she responds similarly. I think I've told you about how difficult it is for me to love and harder still to say, "I love you" but I do. Anyway we fuck like rabbits which is contributing to my shrinking penis - according to Russell Peters. Unbelievable. I'm thrilled, fascinated, enthralled, and warm.
I've nicknamed her, Huskie. She's pretty and feminine. But she snores which reminds me of Husqvarna power tools. I know, silly me. But sometimes these thoughts just happen with no rational reason. Oh yeah, and she's from Finland. She even speaks Finn. She wasn't born there but both her parents were. She has brown eyes. Who has ever heard of a Scandinavian with brown eyes. I thought they all had blue eyes. My grandparents were Swedish and I have blue eyes. Her eyes are still very pretty. It is possible to have brown eyes and be pretty. But you know that already!
Enough of the present, let me shift to the past and the topic at hand. Let me list a few of the "rules" I had to remember and follow (endure) during my marriage. These are her rules and her responses to my protests which you have to imagine me saying since most of our conversations were one sided anyway. I'm exaggerating a little but not as much as you may think. And the real nice thing is that none of them apply now. Ain't divorce wonderful?
1. Never have sex twice in one night.
"Quit rubbing your penis up against me."
"What do you mean you want sex again? We just had sex and now you want it again?"
"Are you fucking serious? God, you just don't quit. You want sex all the time. You're perverted. Sick and perverted, actually. Now turn over and go to sleep. And don't touch me like you did last night - I'm trying to sleep. Living with you is annoying."
2. Never have sex two days in a row.
"I'm busy right now doing important shit. Let me know when you want to schedule the next inny-outy and I'll check my calendar."
"No you can't look at my calendar. It's private."
"I don't give a shit about your sex drive. It's your sex drive, not mine."
"Shut-up. I don't want to talk about that. That is your private business. Just do what you have to do."
"No, I don't want to watch you. Put that thing back. Not here. Not now. Not ever."
"Can't you see I'm busy. I have to work out, take a shower, and get my nails done. After that I have to get my hair done. Shit I got to run."
"What do you mean, 'Who for?' For me you dumb ass. I get 'all dolled-up', as you say, for me."
"No, not for you. I just like to look good. Oh crap. I need to run. I just remembered that I wanted to drop by Holt Renfrew to pick up a few things."
"No I'm not going to tell you. They're not for you. They're for me. How can you even think that?"
"Yeah I know you're unemployed and we have no money in the bank. That's why I'm going. I'm stressed out."
"Stupid? You're calling me stupid? You're the one who is unemployed. You're such a loser."
3. In fact, it's a good idea to not have sex too often, ever.
"I'm sure it was last week. Remember, I got good marks in school, so I know stuff. Well not stuff about sex but I remember every time you rub your balls, forget to fumigate your pits, pick your nose, pinch a zit, sneeze in my ear, chew with your mouth open, touch my ass, scratch your ass, look at my breasts and think of sex."
"Yes, every time. Now I'm really not in the mood. See how you ruin everything. You're such an asshole."
4. No oral sex.
"Get your face away from me. Don't you ever do that again."
"I know other people do that but I hate it. You can't lick my... well you know, my... thing down there."
"Don't ever say that again, you shithead. Of course, I know what it is. God, what did your parents teach you? Oh yeah, you were born in Africa. What a fucking shit hole that is. I can't believe you used the V word. You are sick. Now I'm really pissed off. There you go again - killing the mood, like usual. Why do you keep doing that?"
5. No hand jobs.
"Well, okay once but never again. I'll use 2 fingers and close my eyes."
"What do you mean 'faster'? I'm going up and down as fast as I can and my arm is burning."
"What do you mean where am I going? I'm going to wash my hands. You could have told me your were going to.... to.... well, you made a mess and now I have to go and clean up. I'll probably take a shower, I feel dirty."
"Yeah dirty. That's what I said. I'm sticky, all over. Can't you control that thing? Now look what you did. Don't even talk to me, you bastard. You really know how to fuck things up. We were doing real well there for a while. But not now... not after you shot your load without giving me a chance to grab the towel. Fuck, you're such a fucking idiot. Don't even think of touching me. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Give it a rest."
"Yes, a long rest for a long time. God, you're so insensitive."
6. Sex in bed, only.
"Okay, we can have sex outside but only two times. And that has to be before we have kids. After we have children, forget about sex anywhere but in the bedroom. On the bed. Under the sheets. With the lights off. And I get to wear my full length nightie. The flannel one. With the long sleeves. And we're going to have fun. Aren't we, my little pet."
"Why so flopsy? You're like a little fish. See what I mean. I get in the mood and then you screw things up. Why do you always do that?"
7. Use lubricant, always.
"Just a second. Hold your fucking horses."
"Will you tie it in a knot it and give me a second. Where is that damn lube tube? Oh shit. It's all used up. That didn't take long to use up the whole tube. Remember we got that just after our disastrous honeymoon. Which was your fault by the way."
"Five years ago? Really? Five years. Damn, how time flies? I didn't realize it was that long ago."
"Another tube? Yeah I suppose we should. Do you mind picking one up in the next week or so? That's a sweetheart."
"Oh, you have a tube in your beside table. Wow, isn't that handy? I didn't know you were capable of thinking ahead. I thought you were only 'spontaneous'. Good for you but now I'm not in the mood. All this talking and planning just took the spontaneity out of it. I wish you wouldn't fuck everything up all the time."
8. Don't make a sound.
"Yes, I'm serious. Shut the fuck up. You're going to wake up the kids, the neighbors, the dog, the fish, and the plants. Plants need sleep too, you know."
"You are fucking ridiculous. You sound like you're taking a shit. Oh fuck, you didn't? Already? If you did, we are finished. Have you not control?"
"Okay, but I just had an visual and I freaked. Remember last week? You came all over me."
"Okay, sorry. Last month? I thought it was last week. Don't remind me. I'm trying to forget about that whole fiasco. What a disaster that was. You're such a moron."
"Are you serious? You enjoyed it? You actually got off on that? You need therapy and real quick. I got some of your.... your.... you know what, in my mouth. I had to use soap and mouthwash to get rid of the taste. I was in trauma for a week. I was going to call my shrink but I didn't want to freak her out. I was mortified. I can't believe you enjoyed that. You're a freak."
9. Don't pinch my nipples.
"Ouch. Fuck off, you prick. Those are my nipples, not yours. I grew them. I carry them. They're attached to MY body. They're mine not yours."
"Yeah you can touch them but not tonight. Maybe next week. You're so violent. You think you can just grab my breasts and pinch my nipples. Well, that's not going to happen. Not in this marriage and not in this life time."
"I know some women have orgasms when someone touches their nipples. My nipples happen to be connected to my tits - I mean my breasts - not my vagina. Those women are freaks. Do I look like a freak to you? No. I'm smart and don't forget it."
10. Don't touch my crack.
"I know I jumped. You touched my crack. Get your fingers out of my crack."
"I know that is the top of my ass but you can't do that. My crack is connected to my.... well you know. I could get a disease."
"Really! I read that. Next you'll be thinking of anal sex."
"You fucking pervert. You are so fucking sick. I can't believe you are even considering that."
"I don't care what you saw on TV or the Internet or in Amsterdam. It is fucking filthy. You fucking sick bastard. Get the fuck out of my bed."
"Kidding? You think that you are funny? Are you fucking joking? You weren't kidding. You're just sick. Just the thought of anal sex makes me sick. And now you've really done it. You wrecked my whole week."
"Bastard. I never said rectum. I said 'wrecked'. See what I mean. You're fucking screwed up. The only thing you think about is perverted sex. I can't believe that we have sex at all."
11. Always pee after sex.
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"I know we just finished but I have to go pee before I get infected."
"My friend told me, that's who. She told me I had to pee right after I have sex."
"She's an nurse, damn it. Don't you believe anything I say?"
"Okay but do it quickly."
"There, are you satisfied? You've had your little hug, cuddle and intimate moment. Now let me go and take a pee. Good night."
12. Nothing that even hints of frolicking like canines.
"No I won't 'flip over'. You can't tell me what to do.
"I know exactly what you're trying to do. You're trying to screw me from behind. That is so degrading."
"People don't screw that way - dogs do. Do I look like a dog?"
"Don't you dare answer that? Fuck! You are unbelievable."
"No, I haven't tried it and I'm not planning to try it. I like to see you head-on so that I can see what your doing."
"Now I'm totally pissed. Turn over start counting sheep."
Seriously, these rules were real - not a word of a lie. I'll admit to some embellishment, like adding a few extra swear words but the rules were very real. I realize now that I was naive but I was in love too. Love can be so blind. I lasted 20 years but the pain kept getting worse. I'm healing now. Huskie helps. And she doesn't look like a dog. She's beautiful.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The Bitch is Loose
Welcome to my bitching session. My apologies in advance – I need to get the hostility out of my system, then I’ll jump into the juicy stuff.
Wow, I’ve been MIA since April. So I have to explain what has been going on. It’s nothing too crazy; in fact it’s entirely explicable. I feel like my life is out of balance at the moment. I feel like I’m a cleaner with no time to look after myself. It’s been a rollercoaster at work; I’m the workhorse of the office so to speak. They see a mess, throw me at it and assume that everything will be just fine. Unfortunately, I think this strategy has taken its toll on my mental sanity.
Without saying too much, let me describe my team for you and the mess I’m supposed to deal with at the moment. We get a new client through the door and they of course just throw people at the team and assume everything is going to be fine. A few months later they realize the client is about to fire us due to our incompetence. Big surprise! Why is the client trying to fire us….well because we hired a bunch of inbred lunatics in the south….that’s why. I have 2 very senior people on my team. One actually has bleeding ulcers from stress and she was admitted into the hospital today, another is a raving lunatic. She spends her time hoarding work, but not actually getting anything done, portraying herself as a martyr to the client and staying up all night to do lord knows what. What I can say is that she comes to work unwashed and with her clothes inside out. She is a classy gal. My other three team members include a weather girl (not kidding), a 22 year old intern, and a man that looks like he was hit by a bus. These are the face of my company.
I’m waiting for them to do anything coherent or constructive. As a result my 30 member production team is frustrated and my PM staff is about to quit. This is why I can’t sleep at night, this is the reason, I’ve turned into a psychopathic lady with a dual personality. To top it all off, apparently Mr. Vancouver now works for me. Awkward! Actually I’m very over that little tryst, and frankly I don’t have the time or motivation to even think about any of that stuff right now. But ya, he is apparently moving to Chicago, and he is working directly for me on my team. Imagine my surprise when this happened. He arrives in Chicago in about a week…my plan is to not rip his head off during the course of regular business.
What is the irony of this situation….well the only thing that is keeping me sane and also causing me more stress is basically the dog whisperer. Turns out he can drive me crazy and set me over the edge in a heartbeat, but he can also make me feel like I’m sane in an entirely insane situation. I think I would have been deported and shipped back to my homeland if it was not for him and his awful jokes.
So what have we been up to…well I told you last time that we were on the brink of disaster. That was certainly the case. The funny thing is, the more shit I cause, the more I feel like our relationship is solid. This is probably sick and twisted, so please call me out if I need to reevaluate. Let’s see, we have had our fair share of screaming matches, but somehow we always end up back in bed and everything is ok after that. I just need a hug damn it, and he seems to get that when it really matters. I don’t know where this is going, but certainly, we are spending more time together and I do really enjoy those moments.
The summer has blown by and I feel like I haven’t really had my fair share of the action. I did have a chance to visit NYC and a few other places. I’ve been on the road a lot trying to rally the crazies. It’s like chasing rabbits.
Speaking of rabbits, I met this man named Aristotle the other day. No, I’m not kidding. He is one of the Dog Whisperer’s friends. This man is one of the most unique individuals I have ever met. He sort of smells like a damp sponge, his mother clearly still dresses him at the ripe old age of 45 and he still lives with her. When he is not in his backyard watching rabbits (not kidding – this is a self professed hobby he described to me in great detail over a martini), he is in Japan holding his penis as a pistol because apparently this is the only place he can get laid. What a life. Enginerd at home, asset yielding rock star in Asia. Stories like this give me hope.
It’s time to blow this pop stand and get out on vacation. I’ve chosen Bali this year. Perhaps some of that serenity everyone keeps talking about in that Eat prey love crap will rub off on me.
Ok, so that is way enough hostility for one night. That was a lot of random thoughts. I’m hoping to hear your stories and crack a smile. I miss you!
Wow, I’ve been MIA since April. So I have to explain what has been going on. It’s nothing too crazy; in fact it’s entirely explicable. I feel like my life is out of balance at the moment. I feel like I’m a cleaner with no time to look after myself. It’s been a rollercoaster at work; I’m the workhorse of the office so to speak. They see a mess, throw me at it and assume that everything will be just fine. Unfortunately, I think this strategy has taken its toll on my mental sanity.
Without saying too much, let me describe my team for you and the mess I’m supposed to deal with at the moment. We get a new client through the door and they of course just throw people at the team and assume everything is going to be fine. A few months later they realize the client is about to fire us due to our incompetence. Big surprise! Why is the client trying to fire us….well because we hired a bunch of inbred lunatics in the south….that’s why. I have 2 very senior people on my team. One actually has bleeding ulcers from stress and she was admitted into the hospital today, another is a raving lunatic. She spends her time hoarding work, but not actually getting anything done, portraying herself as a martyr to the client and staying up all night to do lord knows what. What I can say is that she comes to work unwashed and with her clothes inside out. She is a classy gal. My other three team members include a weather girl (not kidding), a 22 year old intern, and a man that looks like he was hit by a bus. These are the face of my company.
I’m waiting for them to do anything coherent or constructive. As a result my 30 member production team is frustrated and my PM staff is about to quit. This is why I can’t sleep at night, this is the reason, I’ve turned into a psychopathic lady with a dual personality. To top it all off, apparently Mr. Vancouver now works for me. Awkward! Actually I’m very over that little tryst, and frankly I don’t have the time or motivation to even think about any of that stuff right now. But ya, he is apparently moving to Chicago, and he is working directly for me on my team. Imagine my surprise when this happened. He arrives in Chicago in about a week…my plan is to not rip his head off during the course of regular business.
What is the irony of this situation….well the only thing that is keeping me sane and also causing me more stress is basically the dog whisperer. Turns out he can drive me crazy and set me over the edge in a heartbeat, but he can also make me feel like I’m sane in an entirely insane situation. I think I would have been deported and shipped back to my homeland if it was not for him and his awful jokes.
So what have we been up to…well I told you last time that we were on the brink of disaster. That was certainly the case. The funny thing is, the more shit I cause, the more I feel like our relationship is solid. This is probably sick and twisted, so please call me out if I need to reevaluate. Let’s see, we have had our fair share of screaming matches, but somehow we always end up back in bed and everything is ok after that. I just need a hug damn it, and he seems to get that when it really matters. I don’t know where this is going, but certainly, we are spending more time together and I do really enjoy those moments.
The summer has blown by and I feel like I haven’t really had my fair share of the action. I did have a chance to visit NYC and a few other places. I’ve been on the road a lot trying to rally the crazies. It’s like chasing rabbits.
Speaking of rabbits, I met this man named Aristotle the other day. No, I’m not kidding. He is one of the Dog Whisperer’s friends. This man is one of the most unique individuals I have ever met. He sort of smells like a damp sponge, his mother clearly still dresses him at the ripe old age of 45 and he still lives with her. When he is not in his backyard watching rabbits (not kidding – this is a self professed hobby he described to me in great detail over a martini), he is in Japan holding his penis as a pistol because apparently this is the only place he can get laid. What a life. Enginerd at home, asset yielding rock star in Asia. Stories like this give me hope.
It’s time to blow this pop stand and get out on vacation. I’ve chosen Bali this year. Perhaps some of that serenity everyone keeps talking about in that Eat prey love crap will rub off on me.
Ok, so that is way enough hostility for one night. That was a lot of random thoughts. I’m hoping to hear your stories and crack a smile. I miss you!
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Lost Love, Strippers and Cruising the Caribbean
Dear Chutney,
You have such interesting tales to tell. I'm glad you're having fun. I love the story about Mrs. Marsha Mallow.
Your relationship with the Dog Whisper sounds less than ideal. It worries me that he is so distracted by work when he is supposed to be spending time with you. That can't be good. About a year ago I read Twilight by by Stephenie Meyer. I liked the book - it was interesting and entertaining. There is one part about a third of the way through that I remember well. Edward and Bella are in a restaurant having coffee or a dinner. There is a very cute waitress waiting on their table but Edward only has eyes for Bella. Focused. Intense. Fascinated. I love that scene. I hope that one day you will find someone that has that much interest in you. You deserve to be the only focus of attention for someone who loves you. I hope it works out with Mr. Vancouver. Keep me posted.
So it is Saturday evening and it is snowing (seriously). I'm at home trying to listen to the radio over Rhino's music which is blaring. I would ask him to turn it down but I'd rather save that request for later when I go to bed. The dog is lying on my feet keeping them warm. Earlier this week Rhino, Giraffe and I got back from a weeks cruise around the Caribbean. More on that later. The significant point at this time is that I'm home alone on a Saturday evening. A little strange but expected since I broke up with Pickles a couple weeks before going on the cruise.
It has been a long time coming. I think I mentioned that I broke up with her once before, after our trip together to New York City. Somehow she lured my back. Actually, I remember exactly how it happened. Before the NYC trip she had invited me to her niece's wedding which was after the trip and I had promised to attend. So I went but reluctantly. However, at the reception I met a few of the women that had attended her niece's stagette which involved lessons pole dancing. What is it with women and pole dancing, without men there? That is just wrong. As you can imagine a bunch of women pole dancing is enough to drive me crazy. And they had pictures! One of the gals who went to the stagette was a young brunette with the most amazing body - think Jennifer Connelly or how about this. The captivating part was that Jennifer-look-a-like had quite a thing for Pickles which apparently started at the pole dancing event. At the end of the evening Pickles and I were leaving and this gal comes up to say goodbye. She gives Pickles a long hug, starts kissing her and is even starting to caress her. Pickles didn't do anything to discourage her and I'm standing right there - weak kneed. I was about to fall over! I'm going nuts dancing from one foot to the other like I have to pee. I can't help thinking of Jennifer Connelly in one of her early movies - yikes. (BTW, my favorite movie with Jennifer Connelly is Blood Diamond.) The end result is that we (just Pickles and I - dang) went back to her place and had wild sex. I was hooked.
But now I have escaped. Honestly. Pickles was starting to express her undying love and I know I didn't have the same feelings so I had to call things off. I have no idea what I'm going to do but I'm sure someone interesting will cross my path. Actually, there is someone but I know it isn't going to work out. I'm gaga and she's not. Okay, I'll tell you a bit about her. I met her at a business event about 6 months ago. Her name is Catherine - brunette, pretty, 5'5", yoga instructor, and smiles. She lost her job sometime after Christmas and called me up to pump me for ideas. So what is wrong, you ask? She's too young. Well not too young for me - rather I'm just too old for her. The topic has never come up but I know that all she wants from me is to help her find a job. In the mean time I'm enjoying her company - give and take. On Thursday we went out for coffee and then for a quick dinner before she flew off to teach. During the 2 hours the only other woman I saw was.... shit I can't remember. I don't think there were any women anywhere. I don't think there were any men either. Who served us dinner? I have no idea. I swear we were the only ones in the coffee shop and the restaurant at 5 in the afternoon. Strange really.
The stagette story wasn't the stripper story so let me set the stage for how I ended up at a strip club. In March our company helped to host a conference. The producer of the conference, Len, is from Sweden and has been doing these conferences for 10 years. To reduce his costs he stayed at my house - in my bed in fact. I suppose that needs a bit of explaining. My house has only 3 bedrooms because I rented out the basement. Rhino sleeps in one room, I sleep in one room and one room is free. But Len brought a friend of his from Finland and he took the spare room. That leaves the living room fold out couch which I slept on. I wanted Len to have my room which is quiet - the Rhino tends to charge around the house at 2 am on a regular basis. Oh, I have to ask you, "What is it about Europeans walking around in their underwear?" Very funny if you ask me.
The conference was great. We had fun, learned a lot and made a profit. On the Thursday night a day after the conference I had arranged to have dinner with one of my gal pals. Unbeknownst to me, Len planned on staying in town a couple extra days - so he stayed with me. Since he was my guest I had no choice to invite him along. Well let me tell you the three of us had so much fun. We drank 2 bottles of Malbec wine then started in on Scotch. After 5 hours we called it a night. Or rather my gal pal called it a night. As Len and I got into my car he suggests going to Hooters but it is like 11:30 pm and I suggest that the restaurant will be closed. Len then suggests a strip joint.
Let me explain that although I have been to strip clubs, I'm not a frequent watcher of peelers. I gave up my reserved parking stall a few years back. To be honest I find the whole experience a bit frustrating - look but don't touch. To prove my point about not being a frequent attender - I got lost getting there. Really. I know where the place is but I had forgotten the exact route. However, we made it, eventually.
I knew Len liked Asian women, in fact his wife is from Thailand, but I was not quite prepared for the intensity of his attraction. Len is a frequenter and apparently his wife ignores his peccadilloes. We walk in and he scans the scene. I did too but my gaze stops at the dance floor as some gal is pulling off her bra and sling shotting it to an gawking admirer. Len spots the only Asian in the building and heads her way. I follow, tripping over chairs, tables, and patrons. We sit down and his eyes haven't left her. She walks by and Len asks her for a beer. She states that this isn't here area so we have to get up and move to her area. I'm stumbling all the way to the other side of the stage, looking like a real idiot, as the stripper is taking off her panties. Do all strippers have a Brazilian shaves? OMG. Luckily there is an empty chair for me to fall into. Damn.
Here we are sitting on gynecological row. I'm staring at some gal with her legs wide apart while the guy on the other side of me is tossing Loonies into a rolled up poster that she is holding. It is shaped like a funnel with the narrow end pointed at her... well use your imagination. I'm asking myself, "How can he aim properly?" I'm nailed to my chair - I can't even move, except for the occasional twitch. You see what I mean? This is torture. But I soldier on, enduring the spasms of pain. Len, in the mean time, can't take his eyes off the Asian waitress who, incidental, has on all her clothes and won't let him touch her (I don't blame her). He keeps buying shooters, 2 or 3 at a time - anything she offers - just to get her to keep coming back. Then - get this - he falls asleep. I'm not kidding. I'm nearly convulsing with excitement, repeatedly tightening my belt so that nothing pops out and he his head starts to bob. Unfuckingbelievable. In my state of duress I try to ignore him but only at my peril. Apparently, strippers don't take too kindly to people snoozing during their show. Eventually, she gets up and stands naked right in front of me. She starts to yell and clap at Len to wake him up. I would love to move my chair away to show that I'm not associated with him but I'm strangely comatose, staring at her fleshy Brazilian, as my chin keeps bouncing off my chest.
Well changing topics, we had a wonderful cruise. I'm telling you a cruise is the best way to have a holiday. Wow. Nearly perfect. If Rhino hadn't whacked Giraffe on the head and inflicted $1,500 worth of stitches, it would have been a very relaxing enjoyable trip. Luckily I had medical insurance. Enjoy the videos:
You have such interesting tales to tell. I'm glad you're having fun. I love the story about Mrs. Marsha Mallow.
Your relationship with the Dog Whisper sounds less than ideal. It worries me that he is so distracted by work when he is supposed to be spending time with you. That can't be good. About a year ago I read Twilight by by Stephenie Meyer. I liked the book - it was interesting and entertaining. There is one part about a third of the way through that I remember well. Edward and Bella are in a restaurant having coffee or a dinner. There is a very cute waitress waiting on their table but Edward only has eyes for Bella. Focused. Intense. Fascinated. I love that scene. I hope that one day you will find someone that has that much interest in you. You deserve to be the only focus of attention for someone who loves you. I hope it works out with Mr. Vancouver. Keep me posted.
So it is Saturday evening and it is snowing (seriously). I'm at home trying to listen to the radio over Rhino's music which is blaring. I would ask him to turn it down but I'd rather save that request for later when I go to bed. The dog is lying on my feet keeping them warm. Earlier this week Rhino, Giraffe and I got back from a weeks cruise around the Caribbean. More on that later. The significant point at this time is that I'm home alone on a Saturday evening. A little strange but expected since I broke up with Pickles a couple weeks before going on the cruise.
It has been a long time coming. I think I mentioned that I broke up with her once before, after our trip together to New York City. Somehow she lured my back. Actually, I remember exactly how it happened. Before the NYC trip she had invited me to her niece's wedding which was after the trip and I had promised to attend. So I went but reluctantly. However, at the reception I met a few of the women that had attended her niece's stagette which involved lessons pole dancing. What is it with women and pole dancing, without men there? That is just wrong. As you can imagine a bunch of women pole dancing is enough to drive me crazy. And they had pictures! One of the gals who went to the stagette was a young brunette with the most amazing body - think Jennifer Connelly or how about this. The captivating part was that Jennifer-look-a-like had quite a thing for Pickles which apparently started at the pole dancing event. At the end of the evening Pickles and I were leaving and this gal comes up to say goodbye. She gives Pickles a long hug, starts kissing her and is even starting to caress her. Pickles didn't do anything to discourage her and I'm standing right there - weak kneed. I was about to fall over! I'm going nuts dancing from one foot to the other like I have to pee. I can't help thinking of Jennifer Connelly in one of her early movies - yikes. (BTW, my favorite movie with Jennifer Connelly is Blood Diamond.) The end result is that we (just Pickles and I - dang) went back to her place and had wild sex. I was hooked.
But now I have escaped. Honestly. Pickles was starting to express her undying love and I know I didn't have the same feelings so I had to call things off. I have no idea what I'm going to do but I'm sure someone interesting will cross my path. Actually, there is someone but I know it isn't going to work out. I'm gaga and she's not. Okay, I'll tell you a bit about her. I met her at a business event about 6 months ago. Her name is Catherine - brunette, pretty, 5'5", yoga instructor, and smiles. She lost her job sometime after Christmas and called me up to pump me for ideas. So what is wrong, you ask? She's too young. Well not too young for me - rather I'm just too old for her. The topic has never come up but I know that all she wants from me is to help her find a job. In the mean time I'm enjoying her company - give and take. On Thursday we went out for coffee and then for a quick dinner before she flew off to teach. During the 2 hours the only other woman I saw was.... shit I can't remember. I don't think there were any women anywhere. I don't think there were any men either. Who served us dinner? I have no idea. I swear we were the only ones in the coffee shop and the restaurant at 5 in the afternoon. Strange really.
The stagette story wasn't the stripper story so let me set the stage for how I ended up at a strip club. In March our company helped to host a conference. The producer of the conference, Len, is from Sweden and has been doing these conferences for 10 years. To reduce his costs he stayed at my house - in my bed in fact. I suppose that needs a bit of explaining. My house has only 3 bedrooms because I rented out the basement. Rhino sleeps in one room, I sleep in one room and one room is free. But Len brought a friend of his from Finland and he took the spare room. That leaves the living room fold out couch which I slept on. I wanted Len to have my room which is quiet - the Rhino tends to charge around the house at 2 am on a regular basis. Oh, I have to ask you, "What is it about Europeans walking around in their underwear?" Very funny if you ask me.
The conference was great. We had fun, learned a lot and made a profit. On the Thursday night a day after the conference I had arranged to have dinner with one of my gal pals. Unbeknownst to me, Len planned on staying in town a couple extra days - so he stayed with me. Since he was my guest I had no choice to invite him along. Well let me tell you the three of us had so much fun. We drank 2 bottles of Malbec wine then started in on Scotch. After 5 hours we called it a night. Or rather my gal pal called it a night. As Len and I got into my car he suggests going to Hooters but it is like 11:30 pm and I suggest that the restaurant will be closed. Len then suggests a strip joint.
Let me explain that although I have been to strip clubs, I'm not a frequent watcher of peelers. I gave up my reserved parking stall a few years back. To be honest I find the whole experience a bit frustrating - look but don't touch. To prove my point about not being a frequent attender - I got lost getting there. Really. I know where the place is but I had forgotten the exact route. However, we made it, eventually.
I knew Len liked Asian women, in fact his wife is from Thailand, but I was not quite prepared for the intensity of his attraction. Len is a frequenter and apparently his wife ignores his peccadilloes. We walk in and he scans the scene. I did too but my gaze stops at the dance floor as some gal is pulling off her bra and sling shotting it to an gawking admirer. Len spots the only Asian in the building and heads her way. I follow, tripping over chairs, tables, and patrons. We sit down and his eyes haven't left her. She walks by and Len asks her for a beer. She states that this isn't here area so we have to get up and move to her area. I'm stumbling all the way to the other side of the stage, looking like a real idiot, as the stripper is taking off her panties. Do all strippers have a Brazilian shaves? OMG. Luckily there is an empty chair for me to fall into. Damn.
Here we are sitting on gynecological row. I'm staring at some gal with her legs wide apart while the guy on the other side of me is tossing Loonies into a rolled up poster that she is holding. It is shaped like a funnel with the narrow end pointed at her... well use your imagination. I'm asking myself, "How can he aim properly?" I'm nailed to my chair - I can't even move, except for the occasional twitch. You see what I mean? This is torture. But I soldier on, enduring the spasms of pain. Len, in the mean time, can't take his eyes off the Asian waitress who, incidental, has on all her clothes and won't let him touch her (I don't blame her). He keeps buying shooters, 2 or 3 at a time - anything she offers - just to get her to keep coming back. Then - get this - he falls asleep. I'm not kidding. I'm nearly convulsing with excitement, repeatedly tightening my belt so that nothing pops out and he his head starts to bob. Unfuckingbelievable. In my state of duress I try to ignore him but only at my peril. Apparently, strippers don't take too kindly to people snoozing during their show. Eventually, she gets up and stands naked right in front of me. She starts to yell and clap at Len to wake him up. I would love to move my chair away to show that I'm not associated with him but I'm strangely comatose, staring at her fleshy Brazilian, as my chin keeps bouncing off my chest.
Well changing topics, we had a wonderful cruise. I'm telling you a cruise is the best way to have a holiday. Wow. Nearly perfect. If Rhino hadn't whacked Giraffe on the head and inflicted $1,500 worth of stitches, it would have been a very relaxing enjoyable trip. Luckily I had medical insurance. Enjoy the videos:
Jet Skiing in Miami
Liberty of the Seas
Zip Line at Labadee, Haiti
Liberty of the Seas 70s Style
Bob Marley's Records at 9 Mile, Jamaica
Atlantis Submarine in Cozumel Mexico
Saturday, April 10, 2010
What happens in Vegas…
Cocktale, I’m sure you will appreciate the post below, as we are still both on the same quest. I hope you are enjoying your vacation with your boys
Ok, so I have to tell you that I am a romantic at heart. Every once in a while it seeps out even though generally I maintain my exterior persona of not giving a damn. So this post is for the hope of wild fireworks and the inevitable quest of finding your soul mate. Ok…maybe it’s not so deep. So far it’s a story about guilt, and a bit of animal lust that overtakes you when you are in a dysfunctional relationship. Come on people…we are not dead.
So, last month I had to travel to Las Vegas for work. I decided why not make a vacation out of the trip. It has been a while since I had a few days off and I asked the Dog Whisperer to come out and join me after the work activities were complete. I arrived on a Wednesday, and decided to stay until the following Monday with DW arriving early Friday morning.
So, what did we do? In typical work fashion, we drank obscenely, gambled (which I normally don’t do, but I did learn how to play a few decent rounds of Black Jack). On Thursday night, we rented a limo, went out for a swanky dinner, headed to the strip for a fun night on the town. There were about 10 of us on this escapade including the company brass. As the night progressed, we kept getting drunker and drunker. Of course, I was oblivious to what was going on around me.
About half way through the evening, I realized that I was sitting next to a very handsome man from Vancouver. He was a co-worker and as you know I have already played my hand at the inter-office love affair so I tried to maintain my distance. Later on in the evening, sparks were flying, we were talking about everything and all I wanted to do was lean over and kiss him. I was a good girl, I hung back and let him kiss give me a peck on the lips instead. I promptly went back to my hotel room without him and told him to talk to me if he was ever in my city.
I woke up the next morning feeling absolutely awful. I was hungover, that was part of the problem. Also DW was schedule to arrive in less than an hour. I hauled my ass to the airport, met him and handed him the rental car keys as I was still too drunk to drive. We did a little road trip which was fun, but seriously, all I could think of was the guilt from Mr. Vancouver. We did end up having a good time, but he was distracted as normal due to his obscene work load.
Three days later, we parted ways at the airport. He headed back to the city via one airport and I another. The trip back was the most entertaining. I met a couple Marsha and Jack. They were both well into their 70s and had been together for the last 27 years. Marsha had married late in life and she had difficulty committing to a man in her youth. She told me about her love affairs with the various good men in her life and how Jack had ultimately won her heart. She told me about how Mr. Mallow had courted her in the early days and how although they were together for 4 years, she could never walk down the aisle with him. She met Jack and she knew instantly that she was going to marry the most handsome man in the bar that evening. Also, she told me she couldn’t stand the thought of being called Mrs. Marsha Mallow. No, seriously, I’m not even making this up. Life is stranger than fiction I tell you.
Anyway, she tells me about their trips to Vegas and how she has a hobby of getting bouncers to let her sneak into clubs and taking her camera with her. She likes to photograph people in compromising positions in the Vegas bars. She waits till the lights flash to take the picture. She showed me a few. I probably should have reported her to the police, but she won me over with her charm and I could sort of relate to the lady. I have to tell you, the flight home was the shortest 3 hours of my life. I had a great time and I even let them both hang onto me when we were landing. It was kinda cute.
So where is my story going….well, I received an email 3 days ago letting me know that Mr. Vancouver is moving to my city. Isn’t life fun ;)
Chutney
Ok, so I have to tell you that I am a romantic at heart. Every once in a while it seeps out even though generally I maintain my exterior persona of not giving a damn. So this post is for the hope of wild fireworks and the inevitable quest of finding your soul mate. Ok…maybe it’s not so deep. So far it’s a story about guilt, and a bit of animal lust that overtakes you when you are in a dysfunctional relationship. Come on people…we are not dead.
So, last month I had to travel to Las Vegas for work. I decided why not make a vacation out of the trip. It has been a while since I had a few days off and I asked the Dog Whisperer to come out and join me after the work activities were complete. I arrived on a Wednesday, and decided to stay until the following Monday with DW arriving early Friday morning.
So, what did we do? In typical work fashion, we drank obscenely, gambled (which I normally don’t do, but I did learn how to play a few decent rounds of Black Jack). On Thursday night, we rented a limo, went out for a swanky dinner, headed to the strip for a fun night on the town. There were about 10 of us on this escapade including the company brass. As the night progressed, we kept getting drunker and drunker. Of course, I was oblivious to what was going on around me.
About half way through the evening, I realized that I was sitting next to a very handsome man from Vancouver. He was a co-worker and as you know I have already played my hand at the inter-office love affair so I tried to maintain my distance. Later on in the evening, sparks were flying, we were talking about everything and all I wanted to do was lean over and kiss him. I was a good girl, I hung back and let him kiss give me a peck on the lips instead. I promptly went back to my hotel room without him and told him to talk to me if he was ever in my city.
I woke up the next morning feeling absolutely awful. I was hungover, that was part of the problem. Also DW was schedule to arrive in less than an hour. I hauled my ass to the airport, met him and handed him the rental car keys as I was still too drunk to drive. We did a little road trip which was fun, but seriously, all I could think of was the guilt from Mr. Vancouver. We did end up having a good time, but he was distracted as normal due to his obscene work load.
Three days later, we parted ways at the airport. He headed back to the city via one airport and I another. The trip back was the most entertaining. I met a couple Marsha and Jack. They were both well into their 70s and had been together for the last 27 years. Marsha had married late in life and she had difficulty committing to a man in her youth. She told me about her love affairs with the various good men in her life and how Jack had ultimately won her heart. She told me about how Mr. Mallow had courted her in the early days and how although they were together for 4 years, she could never walk down the aisle with him. She met Jack and she knew instantly that she was going to marry the most handsome man in the bar that evening. Also, she told me she couldn’t stand the thought of being called Mrs. Marsha Mallow. No, seriously, I’m not even making this up. Life is stranger than fiction I tell you.
Anyway, she tells me about their trips to Vegas and how she has a hobby of getting bouncers to let her sneak into clubs and taking her camera with her. She likes to photograph people in compromising positions in the Vegas bars. She waits till the lights flash to take the picture. She showed me a few. I probably should have reported her to the police, but she won me over with her charm and I could sort of relate to the lady. I have to tell you, the flight home was the shortest 3 hours of my life. I had a great time and I even let them both hang onto me when we were landing. It was kinda cute.
So where is my story going….well, I received an email 3 days ago letting me know that Mr. Vancouver is moving to my city. Isn’t life fun ;)
Chutney
Monday, March 8, 2010
Confessions
Dearest Chutney,
Thanks for the update. Blessings on you. Life is busy for me as well. But the sun is shining more and winter is almost over. Today you are going to be my confessor as I share some of my dark deep secrets - stories really. Enjoy.
Extravagance
You mentioned the sweet word "vacation". Did I tell you I booked a cruise? Well I have. Me and the lads leave April 9th for Miami and seven days floating around the Caribbean. It is extravagant but it has been about 4 years since I have taken a luxurious holiday. In 2006, I took the lads to Cuba. We had a wonderful time there and I'm pretty sure we will this time. I've asked a lot of other cruisers and all of them have said they loved it. I can't wait.
Bitterness
Speaking of taking the boys on a trip, my ex has never taken them anywhere in the last 5 years. She and her sister took them to Disneyland when they were young but nothing in recent years. I think the most Spandex has done is take them north to visit her mother. It is possible that she has offered to take them on a trip and they refused but I can't remember them ever mentioning that.
I harbor quite a bit of bitterness toward her. It eats away at me sometimes. Son #1, Rhino, has an appointment with the dentist in a week or so. I booked it a year ago. Usually I would just take him and tell her en route but one of the professors at a local university wants me to make a presentation to her class. I agreed but it conflicts with the dentist appointment. So I sent an email to her highness to see if she could take him. Her exact response was, " I can’t take him -- I don’t remember scheduling this. I am guessing that he won’t go on his own as he doesn’t care much about this so you may need to reschedule. If you want me to take him to appointments I need at least 6 weeks’ notice or might be easier if I schedule the things that I will be taking him to." Can you believe that? I have to ask her 6 weeks in advance to take her son to a medical appointment. That is nuts. What kind of mother needs 6 weeks to schedule time take her son to the dentist? Besides I sent her an email a year ago with the date of the appointment. When I reminded her of that, her response was "Yes, but I didn't see a request for me to take him."
Brick Lane
Funny you should bring up Brick Lane. I just finished reading it a month ago and I saw the movie a few years ago. I joined a book club that had picked that book to read. I joined the group because I like to read and I rarely get a chance to talk with others about what I read. So this was a good opportunity and besides I thought this might be a good opportunity to meet some new women. What a mistake that assumption was. I finished the book on the Saturday afternoon before the group meeting. I drove for what seemed like an hour to some God forsaken community way up northeast. I was welcomed at the door by 2 of the ugliest women in the city. These two seemed to go out of their way to be fat, homely and titless. Sorry for my poor view of humanity but sometimes some people just bother me. One was about 40 and still living with her parents. Who lives with their parents when they are 40? The other one, who owned the house we were meeting in, had a little dog. And you know what I think of yappy little ball biters. Two other women showed up which should have improved my odds but didn't. One gal was tall and easier on the eyes but she lived with her mother. What is wrong with people? The other gal was friendly and chatted with me quite a bit. She was recently separated. I considered offering her my "re-bound" services but she was over 50 and made me nervous. The only thing worse than 40 year old cougars is 50 year old lionesses. I just sat through the meeting holding my book on my lap, covering my fragile balls.
I'm glad to tell you that I survived the evening. I left alone - happily alone. Their review of Brick Lane was lame. The gal who chose the book started the discussion by saying she didn't like it. What's not to like? It is a good novel. The characters are well defined, unusual and interesting. The story is about skating on ice and escaping bondage. Here's my take.
Young gal moves from Bangladesh to London to live with her new husband. As you mentioned, it is an arranged marriage. She's not happy and he is under employed. All I can think about is that he is a lucky stiff - she's young, obliging and unlikely to break the marriage. Of course, I can't say this in a room full of cougars and lions - I value my life. The couple has a son who dies. Tragic. They have two daughters. Beautiful. The husband borrows money to buy a sewing machine for the wife. Young handsome guy drops off material for her to sew. The wife has an affair with him. Again I'm thinking, shit the guys in this novel are lucky. Free sex and no obligations. What more can you ask for? This is perfect. Husband probably knows about the affair but doesn't say anything and why should he, she's a pretty good cook, gave him 2 daughters and she doesn't seem to be leaving. But cracks in the relationship are starting to widen. The family has a great outing to a museum (I love that part of the book). This experience builds up the husband's sense of power. So he creates a plan to go back to Bangladesh. Unfortunately, he has to borrow more money. With the money he books a flight for all 4 family members. This is the turning point in the story that leads to the wife's freedom from debt, bondage and tradition. I'm thinking that I would love to be free but in a den of cats I keep my opinions to myself. The remainder of the novel is about how the wife escapes. First, she confronts the loan shark with the bullying sons and wins. Next she dumps her boyfriend. Finally just before the flight takes off, she abandons her husband so that she can stay in London with her daughters who don't want to leave anyway.The ending of the novel is perfect. She is goes ice skating with her female friend. Free at last. What's not to like?
Impotence
Speaking of ugly, impotence is an ugly topic. Let me see if I can set this up without freaking myself out. Pickles and I are still hanging out. We do things together and every chance she gets she hauls me off to some bedroom to strip me naked. I should be loving this but I'm so conflicted that sometimes my noodle is al-dante. Either I'm getting too picky or maybe I'm just getting old or maybe it is her. Regardless, I feel guilt because I can't do the nasty with the lights on. A few years ago I was with another 48+ gal who always wanted to run around the house naked - even in the kitchen - with the windows open. I feared for the neighbors. There are some sights that should not be seen. She was over weight and had one breast that pointed down. I suppose gravity has an effect on every woman's breasts and they eventually start to point south. But just one? That was a bit freaky. To keep from going cross eyed I had to turn out the lights. This was after I was separated. I lasted 3 weeks with her.
Now it's the same with Pickles. When she starts her "sexy" striptease I just shudder and not from excitement. I cringe. I never thought I would be this selective. 10 or 20 years ago I could have fuck anything - a watermelon, a duck, a whore, a ... well you get the idea. I'm not saying I did all those things - I'm saying I could have - physically. Even older women were appealing. Sexy MILFs with a bit if mileage and a lot of experience. Sounded good to me. Now when these grannies (or soon to be grannies) start their dance, I start looking for the light switch. I think I'm going to have to go to a strip club. I need to test the equipment and see if I'm getting old or if it is old women that make my hardware floppy. I hope it is that latter.
Double Dipping
So you want to hear about Valentines weekend? Okay, I'll admit that I wanted to do a bit of double dipping. I don't really believe in double dipping unless it is with 2 consenting gals in the same room at the same time - still one of my top 10 fantasies. I didn't actually double dip but I sure considered it. As you may have so astutely picked up, my brain is pickled. I didn't really mean to start another adventure it just sort of happened. I got an email from POF. Usually I just delete them because I don't have time to torture my brain. But I clicked and logged on. Within 10 minutes someone sent me a note. Seriously, I was the hunted not the hunter. She said that we had similar interests and she liked that. I'm thinking okay lady let's go for it. So I reply with a list of all her interests and comments about our similarities. I thought I was pretty quick and pretty smart. She replied. I replied and asked if she was interested in going for drink. She replied - affirmative. We met at an Irish bar a couple days later. She's nice, kinda cute, not gorgeous but livable. We arrange to go to a movie. We have fun. But I made some comment about buying Rhino some smokes. She asks me if I smoke. I reply in the negative but add that I have a puff on a cigar once in a while. She nearly freaks out explaining that her Dad died from lung cancer. I'm thinking this is a bit odd because we don't even have a relationship and she is already worried about me dieing. This should have been a clue. Nonetheless, I let things rest for about a week just so she doesn't think I'm desperate. I ask her to come to a gig that some friends in a band are having. He plays lead guitar in a blues band. It's Friday night before Valentines Day. To be on the safe side, I reserve that day to have dinner with Pickles. Lucky thing I did because Twinkle Toes (I can't even remember her name) is a horror story. I get to the bar and wait a 1/2 hour or so. She comes late. I'm trying to be nice so I had picked up some roses for her. When she eventually arrives I tell her I have a gift for her when she leave. She literally sneered and stated that Valentines day was a crock of shit and just a ploy by companies to get people to buy chocolates, flowers, cards and dinners. I was shocked. I mean she is correct but I still like Valentines Day. It is fun. So what if companies make a bit of money on the event. That is what life is all about. Spending money and having fun. Luckily the band was loud because things were uncomfortable. I gave her the flowers when we left. They were blood red and thorny. Just what she deserved. The bitch.
Thanks for the update. Blessings on you. Life is busy for me as well. But the sun is shining more and winter is almost over. Today you are going to be my confessor as I share some of my dark deep secrets - stories really. Enjoy.
Extravagance
You mentioned the sweet word "vacation". Did I tell you I booked a cruise? Well I have. Me and the lads leave April 9th for Miami and seven days floating around the Caribbean. It is extravagant but it has been about 4 years since I have taken a luxurious holiday. In 2006, I took the lads to Cuba. We had a wonderful time there and I'm pretty sure we will this time. I've asked a lot of other cruisers and all of them have said they loved it. I can't wait.
Bitterness
Speaking of taking the boys on a trip, my ex has never taken them anywhere in the last 5 years. She and her sister took them to Disneyland when they were young but nothing in recent years. I think the most Spandex has done is take them north to visit her mother. It is possible that she has offered to take them on a trip and they refused but I can't remember them ever mentioning that.
I harbor quite a bit of bitterness toward her. It eats away at me sometimes. Son #1, Rhino, has an appointment with the dentist in a week or so. I booked it a year ago. Usually I would just take him and tell her en route but one of the professors at a local university wants me to make a presentation to her class. I agreed but it conflicts with the dentist appointment. So I sent an email to her highness to see if she could take him. Her exact response was, " I can’t take him -- I don’t remember scheduling this. I am guessing that he won’t go on his own as he doesn’t care much about this so you may need to reschedule. If you want me to take him to appointments I need at least 6 weeks’ notice or might be easier if I schedule the things that I will be taking him to." Can you believe that? I have to ask her 6 weeks in advance to take her son to a medical appointment. That is nuts. What kind of mother needs 6 weeks to schedule time take her son to the dentist? Besides I sent her an email a year ago with the date of the appointment. When I reminded her of that, her response was "Yes, but I didn't see a request for me to take him."
Brick Lane
Funny you should bring up Brick Lane. I just finished reading it a month ago and I saw the movie a few years ago. I joined a book club that had picked that book to read. I joined the group because I like to read and I rarely get a chance to talk with others about what I read. So this was a good opportunity and besides I thought this might be a good opportunity to meet some new women. What a mistake that assumption was. I finished the book on the Saturday afternoon before the group meeting. I drove for what seemed like an hour to some God forsaken community way up northeast. I was welcomed at the door by 2 of the ugliest women in the city. These two seemed to go out of their way to be fat, homely and titless. Sorry for my poor view of humanity but sometimes some people just bother me. One was about 40 and still living with her parents. Who lives with their parents when they are 40? The other one, who owned the house we were meeting in, had a little dog. And you know what I think of yappy little ball biters. Two other women showed up which should have improved my odds but didn't. One gal was tall and easier on the eyes but she lived with her mother. What is wrong with people? The other gal was friendly and chatted with me quite a bit. She was recently separated. I considered offering her my "re-bound" services but she was over 50 and made me nervous. The only thing worse than 40 year old cougars is 50 year old lionesses. I just sat through the meeting holding my book on my lap, covering my fragile balls.
I'm glad to tell you that I survived the evening. I left alone - happily alone. Their review of Brick Lane was lame. The gal who chose the book started the discussion by saying she didn't like it. What's not to like? It is a good novel. The characters are well defined, unusual and interesting. The story is about skating on ice and escaping bondage. Here's my take.
Young gal moves from Bangladesh to London to live with her new husband. As you mentioned, it is an arranged marriage. She's not happy and he is under employed. All I can think about is that he is a lucky stiff - she's young, obliging and unlikely to break the marriage. Of course, I can't say this in a room full of cougars and lions - I value my life. The couple has a son who dies. Tragic. They have two daughters. Beautiful. The husband borrows money to buy a sewing machine for the wife. Young handsome guy drops off material for her to sew. The wife has an affair with him. Again I'm thinking, shit the guys in this novel are lucky. Free sex and no obligations. What more can you ask for? This is perfect. Husband probably knows about the affair but doesn't say anything and why should he, she's a pretty good cook, gave him 2 daughters and she doesn't seem to be leaving. But cracks in the relationship are starting to widen. The family has a great outing to a museum (I love that part of the book). This experience builds up the husband's sense of power. So he creates a plan to go back to Bangladesh. Unfortunately, he has to borrow more money. With the money he books a flight for all 4 family members. This is the turning point in the story that leads to the wife's freedom from debt, bondage and tradition. I'm thinking that I would love to be free but in a den of cats I keep my opinions to myself. The remainder of the novel is about how the wife escapes. First, she confronts the loan shark with the bullying sons and wins. Next she dumps her boyfriend. Finally just before the flight takes off, she abandons her husband so that she can stay in London with her daughters who don't want to leave anyway.The ending of the novel is perfect. She is goes ice skating with her female friend. Free at last. What's not to like?
Impotence
Speaking of ugly, impotence is an ugly topic. Let me see if I can set this up without freaking myself out. Pickles and I are still hanging out. We do things together and every chance she gets she hauls me off to some bedroom to strip me naked. I should be loving this but I'm so conflicted that sometimes my noodle is al-dante. Either I'm getting too picky or maybe I'm just getting old or maybe it is her. Regardless, I feel guilt because I can't do the nasty with the lights on. A few years ago I was with another 48+ gal who always wanted to run around the house naked - even in the kitchen - with the windows open. I feared for the neighbors. There are some sights that should not be seen. She was over weight and had one breast that pointed down. I suppose gravity has an effect on every woman's breasts and they eventually start to point south. But just one? That was a bit freaky. To keep from going cross eyed I had to turn out the lights. This was after I was separated. I lasted 3 weeks with her.
Now it's the same with Pickles. When she starts her "sexy" striptease I just shudder and not from excitement. I cringe. I never thought I would be this selective. 10 or 20 years ago I could have fuck anything - a watermelon, a duck, a whore, a ... well you get the idea. I'm not saying I did all those things - I'm saying I could have - physically. Even older women were appealing. Sexy MILFs with a bit if mileage and a lot of experience. Sounded good to me. Now when these grannies (or soon to be grannies) start their dance, I start looking for the light switch. I think I'm going to have to go to a strip club. I need to test the equipment and see if I'm getting old or if it is old women that make my hardware floppy. I hope it is that latter.
Double Dipping
So you want to hear about Valentines weekend? Okay, I'll admit that I wanted to do a bit of double dipping. I don't really believe in double dipping unless it is with 2 consenting gals in the same room at the same time - still one of my top 10 fantasies. I didn't actually double dip but I sure considered it. As you may have so astutely picked up, my brain is pickled. I didn't really mean to start another adventure it just sort of happened. I got an email from POF. Usually I just delete them because I don't have time to torture my brain. But I clicked and logged on. Within 10 minutes someone sent me a note. Seriously, I was the hunted not the hunter. She said that we had similar interests and she liked that. I'm thinking okay lady let's go for it. So I reply with a list of all her interests and comments about our similarities. I thought I was pretty quick and pretty smart. She replied. I replied and asked if she was interested in going for drink. She replied - affirmative. We met at an Irish bar a couple days later. She's nice, kinda cute, not gorgeous but livable. We arrange to go to a movie. We have fun. But I made some comment about buying Rhino some smokes. She asks me if I smoke. I reply in the negative but add that I have a puff on a cigar once in a while. She nearly freaks out explaining that her Dad died from lung cancer. I'm thinking this is a bit odd because we don't even have a relationship and she is already worried about me dieing. This should have been a clue. Nonetheless, I let things rest for about a week just so she doesn't think I'm desperate. I ask her to come to a gig that some friends in a band are having. He plays lead guitar in a blues band. It's Friday night before Valentines Day. To be on the safe side, I reserve that day to have dinner with Pickles. Lucky thing I did because Twinkle Toes (I can't even remember her name) is a horror story. I get to the bar and wait a 1/2 hour or so. She comes late. I'm trying to be nice so I had picked up some roses for her. When she eventually arrives I tell her I have a gift for her when she leave. She literally sneered and stated that Valentines day was a crock of shit and just a ploy by companies to get people to buy chocolates, flowers, cards and dinners. I was shocked. I mean she is correct but I still like Valentines Day. It is fun. So what if companies make a bit of money on the event. That is what life is all about. Spending money and having fun. Luckily the band was loud because things were uncomfortable. I gave her the flowers when we left. They were blood red and thorny. Just what she deserved. The bitch.
Monday, February 15, 2010
The Little Brick Road of Life
Hey Cocktail,
First and foremost, I owe you an apology for dropping off the face of this earth. The last few weeks have been really difficult. Not for any reason aside from its cold outside and I’m tired of this weather. Or perhaps, I’m just tired of being out here without my family. Maybe it’s because I’m getting tired of the mundane routine of work and sleep I have been confined to lately. I’m looking forward to the sun, I’m looking forward to a vacation or something magical to happen.
Fantasies aside, your last post moved me quite deeply although it did also leave me feeling a little more confused. I have seen many different depictions of love over time and the question of classification never gets easier. I was watching a movie recently called Brick Lane and it illustrates your concept of instant love vs earned love very well. The protagonist is an innocent girl from a Bengali village and she is sent to London to marry a middle aged man she is not very fond of. The story centers around the fantasy she creates about the life she left behind and an idealistic vision on love until she is abruptly brought back to reality and finds her voice.
I have read the Namesake and have seen a beautiful production of the Overcoat by Gogol. An interesting message here for sure (at least my interpretation), perhaps the things we believe we need are the same ones that destroy us - just like the overcoat or for some of us instant love.
Sometimes I think my parents were fortunate. They never had to deal with the dating games and just settled into each other after an arranged marriage in their late teens. I suppose they are part of the fortunate few that learned to love and appreciate each other over time. They never had the opportunity to experiment with instant love, so it wasn’t something they sought after. They just accepted the fact that life was planned and they had a duty to fulfill to their parents.
That being said, if you have had the opportunity to experience instant love, perhaps we are really out there searching for a mirage of what love really is. One of my best friends, Amy, is dating at the moment. She is looking for that jaw dropping feeling that comes with instant love. She is looking for incomprehensible passion, unbelievable sex and of course the constant butterflies. Unfortunately, this approach hasn’t resulted in anything long-term for her even though she has been trying for quite some time. I'm hoping there are some cases of success out there, but I'm more inclined to believe that love is like anything else in life and you have to work for it. I'm holding out for earned love and hopefully I'm on the right path, although I still have my doubts on a regular basis.
Well enough about me…I want to know more about the text message you sent me the other day. It sounds like Cocktail has got his groove back. You going to have to fill me in and let me know what is going on with you!! I’m excited to hear about your latest adventures.
As always, lots of love,
Chutney :)
First and foremost, I owe you an apology for dropping off the face of this earth. The last few weeks have been really difficult. Not for any reason aside from its cold outside and I’m tired of this weather. Or perhaps, I’m just tired of being out here without my family. Maybe it’s because I’m getting tired of the mundane routine of work and sleep I have been confined to lately. I’m looking forward to the sun, I’m looking forward to a vacation or something magical to happen.
Fantasies aside, your last post moved me quite deeply although it did also leave me feeling a little more confused. I have seen many different depictions of love over time and the question of classification never gets easier. I was watching a movie recently called Brick Lane and it illustrates your concept of instant love vs earned love very well. The protagonist is an innocent girl from a Bengali village and she is sent to London to marry a middle aged man she is not very fond of. The story centers around the fantasy she creates about the life she left behind and an idealistic vision on love until she is abruptly brought back to reality and finds her voice.
I have read the Namesake and have seen a beautiful production of the Overcoat by Gogol. An interesting message here for sure (at least my interpretation), perhaps the things we believe we need are the same ones that destroy us - just like the overcoat or for some of us instant love.
Sometimes I think my parents were fortunate. They never had to deal with the dating games and just settled into each other after an arranged marriage in their late teens. I suppose they are part of the fortunate few that learned to love and appreciate each other over time. They never had the opportunity to experiment with instant love, so it wasn’t something they sought after. They just accepted the fact that life was planned and they had a duty to fulfill to their parents.
That being said, if you have had the opportunity to experience instant love, perhaps we are really out there searching for a mirage of what love really is. One of my best friends, Amy, is dating at the moment. She is looking for that jaw dropping feeling that comes with instant love. She is looking for incomprehensible passion, unbelievable sex and of course the constant butterflies. Unfortunately, this approach hasn’t resulted in anything long-term for her even though she has been trying for quite some time. I'm hoping there are some cases of success out there, but I'm more inclined to believe that love is like anything else in life and you have to work for it. I'm holding out for earned love and hopefully I'm on the right path, although I still have my doubts on a regular basis.
Well enough about me…I want to know more about the text message you sent me the other day. It sounds like Cocktail has got his groove back. You going to have to fill me in and let me know what is going on with you!! I’m excited to hear about your latest adventures.
As always, lots of love,
Chutney :)
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