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.