fun things..

Today I spent the day cuddling a little newborn babe – My loveliest oldest friend Mup has a new little baby boy.. Teeny Tiny.. he is wearing 00000 outfits.. TINY and perfect. It was just the loveliest way to spend the day..

Yesterday I got all liquered up with a gal-pal.. and then we went and had our wax.. ya.. fun.. doesn’t hurt a bit after 2 wines I swear..

Waiting outside the cubicle for my friend Annabee to have her bikini wax .. I tell you it was not easy to get my mind off what was happening.. Which I thought was quite hilarious. I kept trying to wrench my mind out from inside her knickers..

Speaking about inside the knickers action.. Instead of giving to a charity this Christmas – I sent off a couple of special vibrating toys to a fellow blogger. Someone I have never met.
Her email in my inbox made me smile..

May I recommend random gifting of vibrators next Christmas?

dear plan a..

Hi Plan A.

I am meeting up with a friend from interstate today for a couple of hours [pedicure and a wax side by side like a couple of girlie girls] and then we are having dinner together. The coffee I scheduled with you falls right smack in the middle of the day.. So.. what would you like to do?

You could meet up with my tall beautiful blonde lesbian friend and I for a few afternoon cocktails before dinner [I know you need to be at the airport at 7].. or I can send her off shopping for a couple of hours while you and I drink coffee..
Or.. we can put off our meeting until a night when we can have dinner and relax into a bottle of wine together.

I can’t decide.. can you tell I am no good at multi-tasking?

plan b

I met very few men while on-line dating (two years ago) who I saw more than once.

There was one.. Mr Money.. who I met the day after my birthday, 2006. That year my actual birthday was spent suffering a Margherita induced illness. The day after my birthday I felt so angry with myself I hopped online and shopped for a date.

Still feeling a teeny bit seedy I didn’t have the energy to wear anything more elaborate than jeans and a shirt (and boots) for the dinner out with the new man. I expected him to be as throw-away as all the others had been.. I was just looking for a dinner partner, really. He rocked up in the biggest and most ostentatious brand spanking new Mercedes I had ever seen.. (on loan from the dealership where he was selling his Porsche)

The date cooked along. The man was a millionaire several times over, an arrogant little prick. We had nothing at all in common but talked all night easily.. both he and I are charming.. true.

Anyway. Long story short. I went home with him under the pretense that I would help edit a document he was attempting to write. We grabbed a couple of bottles of wine on the way.. worked on the document for an hour.. went to bed and cuddled in.

We have kept in sporadic contact over the last two years. He was discussing giving me a job as a copywriter for a time there.. We did end up having sex eventually.. but only once, even though we had seen each other more times than that. I haven’t seen him now for over a year.

The other night, when I was strung out and disappointed by my Plan A.. I spoke with Mr Money. In my head he was a definite Plan B..
But we couldn’t co-ordinate a meeting.. until last night.

Mr Money called last night and said.. Now.. now that it is all over let’s have that drink and catch up..

I couldn’t do it.
I keep having this thought run through my head
looking to the past to create my future..

I also seem to have this thought running through my head as well..
using a man I have NOTHING in common with for casual sex is bad!

There is also a bit of this going through my head right now too..

Chickenshit!

What to do.. What to do.. What to do.. What to do.. What to do..?

the old days..

Yesterday I drove to the town where I grew up.. past the house with the attic bedroom where I spent a lot of my time aged 15 – 21 getting ready for parties and clubbing nights and engaged in boy gossip with my three galpals from school..
There were lots and lots of boys.. lots..

Past the house where another girlfriend of mine had lived, she had menangitis at age 16 and I remember visiting her in her darkened room afternoons as I walked home from school.. Terrified because she had been sick for so long I thought she was going to die.. On the left, the church hall I did my dance classes in for most of my teenage years.. and behind the hall the place a young man committed suicide 10 years ago.. He cut his own throat.
I knew him, and didn’t shed a tear. The last time I had seen him he had his fingers in my vagina while I was sleeping in the arms of his best friend. I beat the creep off me.. shuddered.. and never saw either of them again.

A few blocks away, the house where I experienced oral sex for the first time at 16 – 5 minutes on the loungeroom floor of my boyfriend’s parents house before his mother came up the front path with the grocery shopping.. I ran with my jeans around my knees to the back of the house to try and straighten up and wipe the silly surprised look off my face.

Around the corner and the house where I should have been proposed to. It still belongs to the man who loved me 17 years ago, then the.. two.. three shops.. I had sex behind the display cabinets, and in the back rooms of those shops with that same man.

The apartment my friend lived in when we were working our first job.. The front door of the apartment that opened to reveal my boyfriend had been sleeping with her while he was meant to be with me.

Past my old house.. the front door step where I kissed a boy after he walked me home when I was 21.. Three days later I found out he was 15..
My house. My old house. The window of the room where my father died.

The track I walked to school.. the park where I spent all my weekends just hanging with friends and riding horses.. The tennis and bowls club (oh how I flirted with the greensman on the way home from school..)

The apartment where I slept in the arms of the most beautiful man I had ever seen – he’d followed me home from the pub. We went to bed together and he just held me, kissed and talked.

The corner of my street where I had a melt down and screamed and screamed at my boyfriend and best friends when I found out they were taking HIM away for the weekend to get his mind off ME when we broke up..

The road where I used to ride my bike in the hope that Filmhack would drive by.. The old school.. the hall where we did our school plays, and gymnastics (ugh).

The house where I had my surprise 16th birthday party (I was wearing a pastel floral jumpsuit and the white high heels I had last worn at my Deb Ball..)

Driving through the town I wanted so much to knock on doors – please let me come in and see myself here again.
I have been in this town many times since I left 17 years ago.. But I saw a lot of beauty there this time..

beached is..

This morning, giggling along at this with the nephews..

plan d..

Plans A, B, C and D..
Who really tries Plan D..?

How committed are you to Plan D? If you were really interested in a Plan D – don’t you reckon they’d be Plan something a little closer to the top of the list?

Plan D.. is usually the sure fire Plan.. the Plan of least resistance.. The fall back – only if you have to Plan. But. Fuck ME.. my Plan D gave me a headache the other night.. smart talking prick.. and then he sends me a text message on Christmas Day wishing me a happy day.. prick. PRICK. Like even though he’s been a smart mouthed prick he doesn’t want to be struck off the Plan list for good.

Plan D.. If there has to be a Plan D.. then it’s not a Plan..

eve..

I am sitting in the lounge of my sister and her family.. her of the boys I love better than life.
Full to the neck on champagne.. wrapping presents and talking LOUD with the boys to be heard over the Christmas Carolling on the TV.

This is what I come home for.. Obtuse humour.. loudness.. champagne.. family.

If I have one wish.. I wish you could all meet my nephews. They are the funniest little shits I have ever known. Growing everytime I see them.. 22, 20, 18..

Merry Christmas everyone, hope you spend the day with the ones you love.. xx

sex before christmas..

I set this goal for myself a few weeks ago. Here we are at less than two days to go..
The question is..
Will I be able to make the deadline?
The answer is..
I have set up a bit of a pash and grab for tonight.. so who knows?

petite punani..

Rather than doing a Buff drunk and dial on the weekend.. I opened up my old dating site account..
Talking to random strangers about sex was not nearly as nerve wracking as propositioning someone in real life..

All men I chatted with online .. without an exception.. could give me the measurement of their penis..
All in imperial.. Like the metric system in Australia applies to everything with the exception of penis measurements..

7 Inches.. 8.5 inches.. 9 inches..

I was wondering if they would be interested in the capacity of my vagina?
My vagina can accommodate a 2.5 cups of water and 3 medium sized carrots..
I know this is a bit of a random measurement.. and the water and carrot measurement even pre-dates imperial measurements.. but.. it gives you an idea..

Does every man measure their bits – or do some just guesstimate? Do you measure from the top or the underside? Would you be offended if you told a woman about your 12 inch – and she wasn’t impressed?
Is their a degree of danger if you measure yourself with a retractable metal tape measure?

anticipation [don't make me]..

Gothkat met a guy from Craigslist while looking for someone with kink..
She calls him.. The Licky Guy..
He licked every inch of her from neck to toes.. it took an hour or more. No sex, just a tongue lapping.

This image has well and truly embedded into my brain.. I would love to put myself in the picture.. I think I’d adore a long slow licking.. Unfortunately though, I have a disability which means I can never indulge in something like that..

I was born without any patience.

I tend to get violent while anticipating.. I get jiggly, frustrated and angry. I just don’t know how to be calm and let something be..

Gothkat’s post about her Licky Guy makes me feel, for the first time, that I am missing out on a whole lot of quiet, slow wonderful. It’s not just the licking.. there’s a lot of things I could try if I had some patience.. That slow thing that Chinese people do in parks.. I could do THAT if I had some patience..

[cue Guns 'n Roses outro]