He Calls My Vagina – Flower

Really, he does and he means it. Granted he describes himself as a corny guy. He’s the guy in Brooklyn.

Anyhow, back to my vagina….okay vagina doesn’t sound all that sexy but flower? The first time he said it, I almost went dry.

Almost…he has a way with…flowers. Shit.

Yup. I am now calling my vagina/pussy/girl….Flower. Circa 1950. He admits to being a cheese ball so it kind of makes it cute/acceptable? I do like Georgia O’Keeffe so maybe it’s okay to call my Lady Parts….Flower. It’s better than cunt. I don’t like cunt. My ex-boyfriend called me a cunt in a fight once. That was towards the end of him. Now, when I see his wife, it makes me wonder if he calls her a cunt too or if that was just unique for me. He’s such a dick (hah- get what I did there?).

I googled to see what other names are given to vaginas and stumbled on this Jezebel article…and after reading it and the suggested names ranging from cooter, clam, Vajajay, Muff, Snatch, Fanny and Box.

I had a dog named Fanny once (rescue pit bull from Brooklyn)….and gave her to that dick of a boyfriend whose name was, vaJAYjay okay, his actual name was just Jay but it’s quite something I never realized his name could be pussy related. He actually took the dog Fanny when we broke up…he was very good with dogs…women/flowers….ah…well…not this one right here. Maybe he is better with cunts.

If I were to pick a name for my v, it would have no name,  I’d just say kiss me and then slowly guide him…down there. Perhaps a symbol?

Although with Brooklyn…no need to guide…it’s his favorite activity. How did I get so lucky!? Not only does he like to, he’s got mad talent and should he ever lose his day job…he could offer lessons on this shit. I kid you not.

I’d never experienced the whole female ejaculation thing until recently….and he has the knack for it…and it’s a real thing (I used to think it was in the realm of the make believe….like the unicorn).

My friend also experienced it for the first time recently too (only not with my guy…her own….also found on a dating site…yay for online dating).  I can’t believe there are still new discoveries to be made on the sexual front at my age especially considering I went to art school and have had some adventurous partners yet have never had the whole gushing thing happen.

Now I know why guys are exhausted after ejaculation….it all makes sense to me now….it’s mindblowing-ly exhausting. I think I’ll write more about this later….I’m exhausted.

 

 

Wed/Thurs…Lobster ’til We’re Sick

I didn’t want to be his Wednesday/Thursday but after a few weeks without his company it became clear…why NOT be his Wednesday/Thursday?  I enjoy his company, he makes me laugh and well…the sexual chemistry is quite nice….kisses me between my shoulder blades (which I LOVE) and makes a perfect big spoon. He snores…but whatever. He adores me, just not on the weekends.

He messaged me a few weeks after we stopped seeing each other to say hello and tell me he was going for a run. Random text on a Wednesday evening. He missed me. It was sweet and made me want to see him…dammit….dammit.

I’d been chatting with a few guys on Tinder and Bumble but just didn’t want to meet ANY of them. Too annoying, too far to go, too cute, too pushy, too much.

I messaged  him back a week or so later with Gothamist: Where To Observe National Lobster Day In NYC On Thursday about places in NYC to get delicious lobster on Thursday.

Previously while laying in bed on a Thursday morning after a Wednesday evening we had discussed our mutual love for eating lobster. He said he wanted to eat so much that he gets sick….I suggested we go to Newburyport, MA to eat it because there is a great lobster shack there…so delicious…and kind of romantic to get sick on eating lobster. I guess the romance would come before the eating lobster until we’re sick. Made me think of the movie and the situation was/is not lost on me.

So…He replied….

Him:

sure, I understand, but I want a great company to do it with, then we both get sick together

Me:

Well…I miss your company.

Him:

want to get together this Friday?

Me:

Yes, Please.

 

 

Google Yourself – SERIOUSLY – RIGHT NOW!

Really, do it now.

I’m looking for a new job and periodically Google myself to see what’s out there….and/or create a Google Alert. I do both….because sometimes the old content changes and no alert is sent. Really, it’s happened to me! And the timing could not have been worse….

I’d had three interviews with a very well known fashion company for a position and had Googled my name a few weeks prior with no offensive/old materials appearing….well…

I’m an artist with a day job and some of my work contains swears and what not….one was a Rolodex of business cards for every occasion. One of the business cards had my name with CUNT and my email and phone. Yep. It was an old project I started back in 2001, while still in Art school. I’d submitted it for this online artist registry and paid for site access. I’d long stopped paying for it and when Googling my name, now, in 2017, the site would have my name but nothing else….that is…until I Googled myself right after my interview in June 2017. For some reason their site defaulted to the old – yes – early 2000’s site and my offensive cards were now all over Google. Fuck.

It took me two days to get them to remove the images from the site and another two days to get Google to wipe it from the search. PAIN in the butt. And…I didn’t NOT get the job because of it (the job was put on hold) but still….

So, today I Googled my name and found that in March 2017 a bunch of sites went live with people’s names, address history and CELL phone numbers. So PISSED. So I went to the site and requested to be deleted….but how the fuck did they get my cell number? I feel my privacy has been violated….and you should too.

Further…it’s multiple sites and now there are people starting businesses where you PAY them to get you off these lists (my guess these are the same people who put the info out there in the first place)!

I’m due for a new phone….and may just change my number and MAKE sure not to share it with anyone….use a fake Google number like one would on Tinder.

Google YOUR Name now.

The Universe sends Lionel Richie as a Sign

I have suspected the universe is trying to send me messages…now I KNOW the Universe has a sense of humor…AND is sending messages….

After reading a bunch of articles from the Huffington Post   ,  The Chopra Center, and finally decided to go with the advice from this article posted on ForeverConscious.com about how the universe sends us signs and how to ASK the universe to send specific signs. I really threw my heart into it (hey, believing in the universe energy is no more ridiculous than believing in god/higher being and I’m open to the fact I’m pretty ridiculous so….). I asked the universe to send me a sign if the man I’m crazy in love with really does love me (yes, I’m a 43 year old teenager, it’s true, but man, love is like that, makes my bonkers) and to please make this sign very clear…..no question it’s a sign….and I’d like to have a response in the next week or so.

So….after posing my earnest, heartfelt, love sick (43 year old) teenager question to the universe….I made a work (I need a decent job) request to the universe as well…made my lunch and then headed out for yoga. I went into the yoga studio and set up my mat and towel and was rocking a killer shavasana (dead body pose for those who don’t practice).

A woman, a heavily tattooed woman, who I’d never seen before in my year of almost daily practice at this studio, sets up right next to me….literally she is COVERED in tattoos. She then lay with her forearm towards me….I read the tattoo….

“Easy Like Sunday Morning”

This woman has a tattoo of the lyrics of the Lionel Richie song that the man I adore would sing to me! I’m sorry…WHO gets a tattoo of a Lionel Ritchie song on their forearm? The woman the universe sent to set up next to me with a message in yoga class…that’s who.

Seriously…he’d busted out with it once when I was saying that something wasn’t easy….it was the cutest fucking thing I’d ever heard. I turned to mush…His voice….is not for singing….but still…remember….teenage (style) love. We even had a chain of messages using cheesy Lionel Ritchie lyrics after that singing incident. He sang this more than once and horribly….*sigh….*swoon

The universe confirmed what I already knew or thought I knew or wanted to know….believe.

I miss his awful singing voice…and everything else about him…except his silence. I don’t miss his silence because I’m sitting with it every day.

 

 

More Signs from the Universe

So, the universe seems to be sending me all sorts of signs, or so this is what I tell myself to feel better about my current life situation.

The man  I am totally in love with but can’t be with….well…he bought this record player that I was in love with that looked a lot like this one, you know the huge furniture style player that weighs a ton.

Okay, so long story short, he bought it and then couldn’t get it to work so I offered to help figure out how to get it fixed…well…we couldn’t get it fixed and he was moving and had to get rid of it. So, I crafted him a nice ad for Craigslist to get rid of it.

Okay, so back to today…me…heartbroken…

I was walking home from a guy I’m seeing’s house. He lives in Brooklyn and I was heading home on trash day. Mind you, I’ve not seen a huge record player like this in years….yet…the morning I’m walking home from his place thinking about the other guy who I ‘m totally in love with and offered my kidney to (not that he needs it, I was just offering in advance, me being slightly dramatic) who normally has texted or email while with this other guy (it seems he always messaged me while out with this guy in Brooklyn).

Anyhow….I’m walking along….through Bed Stuy…on Fulton….and BOOM….right there…curbside…the record player! I was going to take a photo and send it to him but realized we are not currently talking….so I just kept walking…

Now I wish I’d taken the photo…and wonder if maybe this was a sign from the universe?

But….even if it is a sign…what is it telling me? That I need to let go? But….I don’t want to. He used to sing to me….and I miss it.

Sign from the Universe?

I’m not religious BUT I do believe in energy of the universe…not like Pantheism….but kind of…if you remove the god part.

Anyhow…moving on…

Recently I was in a position where I had to let go of someone I care for deeply….okay fine…I’m madly in love with him but timing is just all wrong….so…I am doing my best to let go.

My last message to him states how much I care for him and should he ever need anything from me, like help choosing winter attire, selling a record player, advice about business or a kidney, I’d happily provide. (I said, kidding, not kidding about the kidney). He did not reply to my message…I guess it’s not all that romantic to offer kidneys – perhaps a bit disturbing even – my heart was in the right place?

Then the universe stepped in.

I’d been having flank pain on the right side for about 8 months or so. Me, being one who doesn’t appreciate western medicine after a few bad experiences, decided to ignore the pain and eventually it would either go away or kill me.

Okay, so a few days after sending my heartfelt/kidney offering email (a bit dramatic, I admit) the pain became unbearable. AGONY. Oh shit, at this moment I realized what the pain was…a kidney stone! I’d had one about 12 years ago and it was awful.

I offer my kidney to him and my body released a kidney stone. The funny thing is one afternoon of agony and then – done. No more pain.

I’m not sure what the universe was trying to say to me but clearly….it was sending me some sort of message…right?

So I decided to Google “Signs from the Universe“…..

 

Interviewer Pets Belly

My staffing agency secured me an interview with a Hedge Fund assisting a team of 9 (nobody should have to assist 9 people but jobs are tight) so I went with an open mind.

It was in the same building as my previous company only the lobby on the “fancy” side. The Hedge Fund office was beautiful, obviously, being a hedge fund they have the money to throw around. The day of my interview it was pouring out. I managed to get there without getting too soggy….put on my “interview” shoes and went up to their floor.

The receptionist was friendly and escorted me to the little conference room a few steps down the hall where I waited to meet with let’s call her Maria. Maria was the Office & Operations Manager at this Hedge Fund.

Maria entered the conference room. Her hair was straight with a tiny flip at the shoulder – one could tell her hair wanted to be curly and wild but she was not having it. Straight. She smoothed her hair with both hands from the part down after she sat down. She wore a butterfly necklace and conservative yet stylish outfit paired with very high heels.

The interview started….normal stuff…how long were you at company blah blah, what are you looking for….blah blah…

Then I noticed…..she was stroking her belly….like REALLY stroking her belly. I look at her belly, then look at her face….does she even know she’s petting herself? Is she using her belly as a crystal ball? Hire/not hire/hire/not hire…belly…what is the right option?

Me: Why is the person in the role leaving? Is she staying with the company?

Her: She is leaving the company…..(she went on about the woman leaving the company but I was so distracted by her continuous belly petting it was hard to pay attention).

Then she moved from her belly back to parting her hair…both hands….smoothing he hair down. Back to the belly….

Long story short, from where I was sitting, this Maria looked like she would be a NIGHTMARE to work with, um, control freak anyone? OH, shit, and she’s petting her belly because she is pregnant. Tiny little baby bump (you know, the stylish NY kind).

It was clear we were not hitting it off. I tried to do my best to be open but all I wanted to do was get the fuck out of that tiny little conference room and as far away from the super stylish belly petter.

What really baffles me is…..these are the people who decide if I get a job or not…these are the people I’d have to work for….I mean….what the? Something is very wrong with this situation. Very Stepford Wives.

The staffing company who got me this interview never got back to me after I’d called them regarding the interview….I really wanted to ask them if other candidates had the same experience. I’ve also managed to fall off the staffing agency eblast. Hah.

Unsettling.

 

FLU Salad

I never understand why some CEO’s don’t realize they will be best served by treating their assistants and receptionists with common human decency. Sadly, many of the CEO’s are just jerks that treat anyone working for them (or serving them in restaurants/stores/etc.) with an air of entitlement.

This post is for those CEO’s. YOU ARE NOT DOING YOURSELF ANY FAVORS by being a jerk.

While working for one of the many CEO’s in NYC, I had the fortunate experience to work for a terribly rude, tantrum throwing, shady as shit CEO. He dressed funny and talked through his nose in a high pitch squeal. The entire time at the company they kept cutting employee benefits, spending and anything to make the company better…while his gym bag had a butler driving it to and from the office. So, my health insurance cost $1400 IN network before covering any of my health services on top of my pay-in. Essentially, I was paying 80% of my health insurance benefits but couldn’t afford to even use them with the high deductible. His gym bag, however, never had to worry about getting sick as it didn’t have to take the subway.

So, the CEO loves salad…the same salad. Every day with the same salad. The delivery person from the salad place knew us well. One day the salad delivery person was delivering the salad. He looked awful, eyes and nose red, sniffling and should have been home sipping soup….but because he can’t afford to take the day off….he was delivering salad. The bag had clearly been handled by flu delivery guy.

I took the salad and offered him a tea. He declined and vanished to the elevator banks. I knew the bag was contaminated…just knew it….and had this salad been for the CEO I worked for in Boston…I never would have let him near it. Straight into the trash. But…this wasn’t the CEO in Boston…I ain’t in Boston anymore. I’m in NY, and thus far, from my experience, the CEO’s here are not so decent humans. These people are more like Donald Trump.

So, what do you think I did?

I carried the salad into the CEO’s office….put it down on his desk (overheard him speaking about how to “trick people into providing banking info on their site” – good guy – really – top notch).

“Enjoy,” I stated leaving his office and heading straight to the sink to scrub the flu off my hands.

…the following week….the CEO was out sick.

When he finally returned, his nose was still red and runny as he told me to order his salad.

No problem.

References – Bernie Madoff

I’m on a job search and the last couple of companies I’ve worked for have been less than ethical. I will not go into details…

I do have references from my previous ETHICAL bosses, sadly, this dates back a while…..

What if my previous boss was Bernie Madoff (before he got caught)?

How valuable is a stellar reference from him?

Maybe those looking to hire should consider some of us workers have ethics and would rather leave with NO reference than a stellar one from the likes of him.

I’ve worked for guys who aspire to be Bernie Madoff and am more than fine not having their stamp of approval.

Thank you.

This letter is not a reference for a job but it IS an actual reference from Bernie Madoff speaking to the “ethical” values of the person he is endorsing.

Think about this for a minute.

Bernie letterLet it sink in.

This is a copy of a real letter from one of my temp jobs…found in the trash….where it belongs.

Dr. Hottie: Do You Miss Us?

I just left sweets in his office mailbox….didn’t want to disturb him while working. He’s a therapist so knocking on his door and popping my head in is not an option. I just missed him and wanted to acknowledge this as it had been about a month since we’d gotten babka and tea in the park and we’ve been chatting via email/text. I knew he was pretty stressed because he was moving – bigger house, bigger mortgage – longer commute – sad face. I was hoping the sale would fall through and he’d remain in the little house by the train station that he told me about. He loved that little house. The patio. The birds.

I suspect the wife wanted the bigger house…well…more than suspect. He basically told me. She is either going to drive him into an early grave with all her demands – or – if I’m lucky – she’ll drive him away from her and towards me! (Yes, I was/am a bit delusional here….but shit…if the French President can marry his teacher who was married and in a situation not acceptable by society….why can’t it work with me and Dr. Hottie)?

I met him several years ago while participating in a medical study (see earlier post). I’d found the study after having lost my job and amazingly it fit my disorder! I’m not going into details because I’m tired of that story and so is just about everyone else who knows me.

Anyhow….I met him while participating in the study. The minute I laid eyes on him….I was toast. Beautiful. Fucking ridiculously beautiful. And smart. And….the accent (the whole catching fish with the butt – Israeli style). We kept in touch (okay more than kept in touch but that’s another story) and infatuation turned to what I think is me in love…maybe? Not sure….is infatuation sustainable….for years?

So, I dropped the sweets off without seeing if he would be there. I just wanted him to have something that make him happy. He’s so cute…munching away on them.

I texted him as I was exiting his building.

2 minutes later I look down and he’s texted me.

Him: Where are you?

Me: up the block!

My phone then vibrates…he’s calling me…

Me: Hello!

Him: Where are you? Are you close?

Me: I’m up the street.

Him: Why didn’t you tell me you were here? We missed the chance to see each other!

Me: I did! I sent you a text.

Him: Do you miss us? (munching on the candy I just dropped off)

Me: (in disbelief that he is even asking) Of course I miss us! (I didn’t realize until this moment that maybe he DOES feel the same way about me?)

Him: If I knew we could have seen each other, we missed the opportunity to see each other, my patient is late…garble….something….something….(sound of eating)…

Me: I’m sorry, you are enjoying the candy, I can’t understand you while your munching away…

Him: oh my patient is here, thank you Louise, thank you. Next time tell me when you are in the neighborhood.

Me: I’m always in your neighborhood! This is where my life is! Okay, bye.

I miss the shit out of him….but have since parted ways (after letting him know when I was in the neighborhood -hah- funny how that is – maybe I did look like a stalker but my life really IS in that neighborhood but now I’m doing my best to avoid that neighborhood) and deleted him from my contacts/phone/email. If only I could delete him from my mind.