Still Fat

Yeah, that's kind of how I'm feeling these days.

I haven't changed too significantly over the last few months, but not working out is really screwing with my head.

So, why haven't I? Worked out, I mean.

I'm just not making it a priority.

It really is that simple.

When I travel I could finish my day with a good workout at my hotel's gym sponsor, but I don't. And ya'll I've been traveling a lot these last few weeks.

I have this Y membership that I never use. That's really bad because, HELLO . . . MONEY!

I was telling myself it was because of S.

I mean, I would rather hang out at home with S before he leaves for work than go to the gym. Cuddles vs working out: yeah - that was a tough choice.

But, the truth is I wasn't working out even when I was away from home.

No excuses now folks as S has started working day shifts. Which means most days he'll be working until a few hours after I get off of work. So, what should I do to fill the hours? Go to the gym. At least that's the plan.

I've also signed up for a middle eastern dance course that I've been wanting to take for a while. Partly because I miss dance classes of any sort, but mostly because I have no girlfriends and it's starting to bug. So, this is my attempt to put myself out there.

"Put it out into the universe" as Britney says.

Oh GOD! Have ya'll beem watching Chaotic? It's insane. Totally the drunken tapes of poor white trash. They really should have just called it Tragic

It's AWESOME!

Fat Cock Fucks Pussy

I admit, I'm kind of a geek. So, I spend time online reading other people's blogs. This entry, which also won a Diarist Award for best rant, cracks me up:

http://i-girl.diaryland.com/040407_96.html

Let's just say, she inspired this entry.

See, I've been watching porn lately and I have to admit I just don't get it.

What I-Girl said really jumps out at me (no pun intended). In particular:

the precious slap, the spitting and the EXTREME closeups.

Let's start with: the slap.

What is that! When I see the guys do it to the woman it's one thing. Not that it's right, or remotely sexy, but I'm guessing that this guy is just clueless and just has no idea what to do. BUT, what really gets me is when the woman does it to herself or to another woman.

I don't care how much fucking money you want to pay me, ain't no way I'm going to slap my own pussy.

It just doesn't feel good. It's a slap.

Would I slap another woman's pussy? Aw HELL no! I like my eyes, I don't want to risk my partner in porn scratching my eyes out with her GED nails . . . thaaaaaanks. Tell you what, start showing the women slap a man's dick or balls and then maybe, maaaaaaaaaaaaybe I'll change my mind.

The spitting.

Look, I know that films work under a budget, but get some ID. Christ, K-Y in a pump bottle would do. I'm tired of watching guys spit in a woman's pussy. Y

ou know what dude? You gotta spit in it, ya probably ain't doin' a good job.

Conversely, I really hate watching a woman hawk a loogie on a guy's dick. That's just nasty.

The close-ups. NO, just - no. Aside from being too up close and personal for me, it's boring.

In and out, in and out . . . there's no variation.

I like face, I like reactions. I think the close-up is a result of a director who thinks it's naughty to make the "ok" sign with the thumb and forefinger of one hand while sliding the forefinger of the other hand in and out of the "o."

Want to know what frightens me about porn?

It's not the potential for degradation, it's not the unrealistic body images and it's not the sex. Dude, I like sex.

It's the fact that somewhere, there's young guys somewhere studying the oral sex scenes and taking notes.

Step away from the monitor little one's. Put down the pad and paper and erase from your mind what you've just seen.

We do not like the fast tongue flicky thing. You are not a vibrator and you never will be: I'm sorry, but get over it. Slow and steady wins the race . . . believe me. Tease it a little, go slowly, change your pressure and don't forget to use your hands.

Again, forget what you've seen in the movies. I don't want you to pump your fingers in and out of me like a plunger. Slow, steady strokes and for christ's sake watch my hips and listen to my breathing. You don't have to actually ask, "Did you come?"

If you gotta ask . . .

And before I wrap things up to go look at porn: should you ever actually get lucky enough to get near a real live vagina . . . don't drill it like a jackhammer.

At least . . . not from the getgo.

Sing - Sing A Song . . .

I was sitting at my desk this morning working on some articles for our quarterly publication when Pearl Jam's Daughter started playing on the radio. I reached over and cranked it up because I used to love that song.

It came out when I was a freshman in college and I remember playing it over and over in my car's tape deck during the ride between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. I'm sitting in my office feeling these feelings I felt over ten years ago and they hit me like a brick wall because it's been so long since I was silly and irresponsible. I miss those days.

I miss not having to be anywhere until noon. I miss hanging out, dancing and drinking until the bars closed. I miss the fried mushrooms from The Chimes restaurant and the hash browns from Louie's. I miss feeling like every day held a new adventure.

When it comes to music, nothing takes me back like the songs I listened to during the Summer of 1993. That was right after I graduated high school, I had my first job and I was dating a ridiculously silly guy that was two years younger than I.

I remember being in the back seat with R and making out to Tony! Toni! Tone!'s If I Had No Loot while R's best friend C drove. PM Dawn's Looking Through Patient Eyes, Duran Duran's Ordinary World, Whitney Houston I Have Nothing, Spin Doctor's Two Princes, SWV's Weak. All of this music played over and over on the musak at our job.

None of those songs are fantastic in their own right, most of them are pure crap, but when I hear them they take me back. I can close my eyes and instantly be back in R's car, leaning against the seat and feeling like his girl.

I still talk to R. He's married and has two adorable little kids. Sometimes we reminsce about our relationship and laugh and sigh. The thing is, it really wasn't the healthiest relationship. He's quite possibly the only person that's ever brought me to yelling during an argument. He liked to push my buttons because I could give it right back. We were like cats and dogs most of the time.

But, it was the easiest relationship I've ever been in because we didn't put any expectations on each other. It was just a summer thing and we were always clear about that. So, we hung out, had a good time and made each other laugh.

Sure, those songs from the summer of 1993 still make me feel all giddy and girlie, so I go with that and love the memories that they produce. It was an awesome time.

It was perfect for me at 18, but that's where I'd like to keep it.

Random Thoughts

The thing is, right now I don't really have a whole lot going on. There's no drama in my life so I don't have much to post.

Things are going well with S. I have just discovered the Gilmore Girls' marathons on ABC Family so I've been watching a lot of those. Last weekend S said to me, "You know, I downloaded a bunch of those for you. If you want I can save them to disk and we could curl up in bed and you could have a Gilmore Girls day."

Best. Boyfriend. Evah!

That's what my life is most of the time: all sweet and shit. I dig it.

S is currently going through a rough bought with an allergic reaction to Virginia Creeper. It ain't pretty folks. But, he's through the worst of it.

I watched Closer last night and man was that depressing. Just a reminder of how much we can rationalize having an affair and telling/not telling our partner. I was laying in bed watching it with S and I looked up at him and without even looking at me he squeezed his arm tighter around me. It felt reassuring and it was exactly what I needed.

I know that S isn't perfect, so occasionally I do realize that he's likely to cheat. He's just as likely to cheat as I am. I don't preoccupy myself with the thought of him cheatng, but he's human.

Lately I've been having some really upseting dreams. In one, S was packing up his clothes and leaving me. He didn't even talk to me . . . just kept packing while I tried to get him to talk to me.

I had a dream this weekend that really sucked. S' sister J invited me out to go shopping only she left out one small detail: S' ex girlfriend B was joining us. It was wretched because J just kept going on and on about how B was better match for S. How I'd never measure up and that I should leave S because it was only a matter of time before he leaves me. That S has only ever loved B and will always love B. The part that made this dream so rough was that J wasn't letting me say a damn thing. It was Mean Girls with grown up women and it sucked.

I woke up very pouty the next morning and when I padded into the living room to find S I was on the verge of tears when I said, "I need you." He held me and let me tell him about my dream. He rubbed my back, kissed my head and whispered, "It was just a dream." It's so simple but that always makes me feel better.