Ahhh memories...
Out of things to write about, but wanting to post a new blog...I decided to peruse my old myspace blogs. For those of you who used to read them--they are still up and running. For those of you who didn't, I found a nice gem dated April 2, 2008 that I'd like to share. It was just another one of my wild rants about life and men and sex and beer. I warn ya...I used to really really like to swear and use unkind words. This blog was titled "Let's Talk About Sex." Enjoy.
Okay...so that was just a ruse. For once I don’t want to talk about sex. Sorry if you’re disappointed. I know, I know...what happened? I just got back from this trip to Cabo...I should be all up on here typing away at all the men I hooked up with in another country. I should be telling all the tawdry details of my many nights out and drunk under the Mexican moon. I should be going on and on about how I wish I would have gotten that guys number so I could maybe talk to him again sometime. I should be. But I’m not. I’m not because it didn’t happen. That’s what I definitely thought would happen. I mean...I took two single friends with me. No homes to worry about wrecking. Free as birds to do what we want, who we want, when we want! And yet...
Yet I made the horrible decision to go down during Spring Break. That’s what happened. I should have known better and gone the week before. Or the month before. Or the month after. But March is a special month. It’s my birthday month! And it’s cold here. I wanted to come back with hundreds of photos of the beach to prove I was having a much better time than those scraping ice off their cars, wearing socks and shoes, and just living in the fucking frozen tundra I call home. At leat I accomplished something while I was down there! It was gorgeous. Anyone reading this can see all the fabulous pics I took of all the good warm times we had. Waking up and laying in the sun all day was the most relaxing and wonderful thing I’ve done in a really long time. Just hearing the ocean waves was calming and centering. I really find myself when I get back to the ocean. I spent 10 years of my life next to an ocean and a little part of my heart remains there. But enough of that...maybe I’ll talk about that again sometime...
My feelings of regret for going down during Spring Break are centered around the people I encountered while I was down there. I should have known. Here I’m thinking...sure, there will be a few high school kids--but bring on the men looking to get laid. There were no men. None that I talked to anyway. There were aLOT of girls. Tons of girls. Every type of fucking girl any guy could ever want. They were tall, thin, tan, and all around gorgeous. They were drunk, easy, and looking right at you. Some were dancing, others were flashing boobs, and more were just generally being obnoxious as far as I was concerned. I didn’t need to see anymore perfectly shaped asses hanging out underneath a shirt trying to pass as a dress...anymore boobs that decided the impossibly tiny and loose piece of fabric covering them was too restricting...anymore girls whose crotches were hanging out because their skirts rode up as they slammed their asses in to the crotch of the meat head behind them!! Enough already...
That’s all it was down there. Tits and ass. Absolutely phenomenal setting if I were a 22 year old frat guy. Fo sho. The only guy to buy me a drink was 18. I asked him how many years of school he had left and he says...oh I’m graduating this year, I’m a senior in high school! Fantastic. Thanks for the beer now please don’t talk to me again unless your mom needs a babysitter because, frankly, I could use the extra cash! Seriously though...I expected some of that. I’m not totally dumb. I knew these people existed. I’ve watched my fair share of MTV Spring Break. However, I thought they just picked out the best looking idiots and threw them on tv. Now I realize that there was no need to pick and choose good looking idiots. They were ALL OVER. Now, I have hot friends. Lots of them. In fact...I don’t really hang out with ugly people...but they aren’t air heads. They aren’t hitting the bars wearing only an oversized scarf and wagging their crotches in guys faces. I can’t really say the same for any of the attractive guys I know however...hehe...
So anyways...when I say Let’s Talk About Sex...and then I mean--but let’s really not...what I’m trying to get across here is that if I have to watch anymore people have sex on the dance floor, try to have sex on the dance floor, or walk around seeking nothing but sex on the dance floor--I’m joining a monastary. Yes, I love sex. I’ve had a lot of it. I’ve had a lot of it with guys I know, guys I don’t know, guys I’ve just met, guys I’ve known since junior high, guys I’m dating, and guys I would never date. I hope to have much much more of it actually. In fact...I’d be doing it right now if there was a man naked in my bed. Wait a minute...two minute fantasy break... Okay I’m back. So it’s not like I’m hanging up the love gloves and calling it done. It’s just that...jesus...what happened to everyone’s brains?? Can I find me a brain? Any functioning brain not hardwired for a pussy hunt? Do they exist anymore? Are there any men left interested in having some great conversation?
I just got done watching Before Sunset. It’s the 9 years later sequel to Before Sunrise which I watched earlier this week. They are two movies about two people. That’s it. Only two main characters. All they do through the whole movie is talk. Yes. And they are absolutely fantastic movies! Nothing but dialogue. Barely anything else at all. They walk and talk, sit and talk, stand and talk, lay and talk, fuck and talk. It’s amazing. It was seriously a breath of fresh air from all the crap I’ve seen recently. I don’t particularly enjoy Ethan Hawk. As a matter of fact, he creeps the hell out of me. He looks to be in a constant state of drug remission and I just don’t trust those beedy eyes. He plays a serial killer well...but I didn’t mind him in these movies. He was a real guy. Genuine. The conversation was real. And it was real heart breaking.
I used to fancy myself an intellectual. When I was in college I had conversations all the time. Real ones. Not just...what are we doing Friday? Who is this boy you like? Did you see that show last night? What should I do about this guy? Are we gonna get drunk tonight? I mean...those are great. They are fun! They are the bread and butter of a social life. But what about a spiritual life? Not a...I believe in God blah blah bullshit stuff like that...but the soul touching conversations. The ones where two or more people discuss things that matter. Things that make a difference. Their hopes, their dreams, their inspirations. Conversations where people disagree but don’t end up in a "fight" over it. The conversation of people who are interested in life beyond what girls on The Hills are wearing and who’s going to win American Idol. Topics outside of themselves and the shit the media feeds us as entertainment.
I need to find me a man who will sit up all night and talk to me about these things. I don’t have the time or energy to discuss these things with people from work...we really should be working. Or when I’m out shopping...best time to discuss trends. Or when I’m out to dinner...what better time to discuss the men in and out of our lives? So that leaves all that other time when I’m by myself. I spend a lot of time with my friends and I enjoy every minute of it. But I also spend a lot of time alone just dying to have that kind of conversation. It’s almost sad to me that the only time I get to open up and discuss things in life outside myself are when I’m on inhaled substances. Let’s be honest though, what conversation isn’t intellectually stimulating at that time...
So to bring these two ideas together--yes, I planned to do it eventually--all I encounter are men looking for the first scenario and none looking for the the second scenario. Granted...any man I meet recently is usually kicked out in the morning before there can be any conversation...but that’s not the point. The point is, none that I meet are worth keeping around to hear more. I talked for a couple hours once to one guy. I think I mentioned before how we layed in bed and chatted all morning. It was fun and refreshing. It’s so ridiculously pathetic that I can’t trace any other talks with guys to any sooner than probably 2005. If I did have them...they are forgettable. It really only seems like guys in my world are interested in either having sex...getting some t&a...or finding a girl with some t&a to have some sex with.
Seriously...I just don’t know what to do at this point. I, literally, worked my ass off for this trip! I lost 30 fucking pounds eating shit food and working out almost every day. I felt guilty if I ate a burger or slept in. I spent the better part of a year scrutinizing every last possible point of my body and wishing and hoping it would get smaller by the time I left forMexico
No guys were interested in me. I felt so good about myself before going down there. None of my clothes fit anymore. I had to purchase a damn belt and I had it tightened so tight my pants bunched in front and looked silly. But it didn’t matter. Not down there. I felt like I had wasted all this time trying to "fit in" down there. There was no way I was going to "fit in" in thatsea of Hawaiian Tropic
Looking at all those guys and those girls...I just felt sad for it all. I should have chilled and ate burgers more often and gone with the idea of rest and relaxation. Somewhere around the second or third night we went out I realized my efforts were useless. I live inWisconsin
Those guys were morons! The lot of them. The only few I found interesting enough to talk to were either from the midwest...or another country! The rest of them were sometimes just plain rude. Girls gotta realize that guys like that...who want girls like that...aren’t worth trying to get. Those guys and those girls were meant to be together. They were made for each other. And those people will be the only people who they believe will ever gmake them happy...whether that’s true or not. Very few of those types of people cross over in to the real world of real people with real bodies and real brains. I sure as shit enjoy a good romp in the hay...and here inWisconsin
It just made me realize that I’m getting a little tired of settling for those nights and those guys. I want to know that there are guys out there who enjoy talking about their opinions on things other than sports and hot girls. I want to see evidence that there are men out there wanting to use their brains with women too! I mean...sure...fuck all day long...but spend the night in conversation for once. Is that too much to ask? I have such great memories of times with ex-boyfriends...laying on the bed--fully clothed!--and just talking. Talking all damn night long. Talking so long that the birds started to chirp before we went to bed. I remember there weren’t any thoughts of getting the other naked--at least not too many thoughts that it became distracting--it was all just so nice. I don’t care if the topic is the relevance of the hero character in 80’s cartoons or their stance onVietnam
I can’t handle it anymore. I couldn’t handle the body of people running around like animals sniffing each other’s butts and sizing up if they’re just drunk enough to bring home for the night! It was all very carnal and thoughtless. It doesn’t take much to think...Oooh, pretty hair, tight ass, big boobs, me like, club on head, drag home...Oot oot...scratch ass, pick fleas, eat boogers. Jesus christ guys...show me the fucking money here! Prove you’re not just a bunch of neanderthals trying to spread your seed to any tanned twat that crosses your path. It seems we single girls are left with these men. They are the only single ones left because no smart woman can put up with wandering eyes and an inability to committ. I want to believe there are men left with hearts and minds whose bloodflow can work both their brain AND their penis at the same time. I have no problems with a guy looking to do it all the time. It’s a thought that crosses my mind rather frequently. But ya gotta be willing to prove that once your man parts wear out...the clock in your head will still be ticking!
The search will continue. Maybe I’m living a sheltered life. Maybe I don’t get out enough...um...I don’t know if that’s possible, but maybe my eyes just aren’t open. I sincerely hope it’s not that all the good ones are taken. I refuse to believe that the type of guy described above is the only one left. There’s got to be someone out there somewhere who will not have to wait until I get down to my "desired weight, hair color, skin color..." to be interested in my personality. There’s got to be someone who realizes that good looks fade, but stupid goes straight down to the bone! "I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because uh some people out there in our nation don’t have maps...and I believe that our education like such as inSouth Africa and Iraq U.S. that they should help the U.S. , er help South Africa and should help the Iraq Carolina ’s answer to the research that shows 1/5 of Americans can’t locate the US
I believe the philosphy of that email forward that says we women should not lay as peaceful tanned stick figures in our graves but slide in sideways with chocolate in one hand and a glass of wine in the other hollering damn what a ride that was! I plan to enjoy my life! And if that means I miss a workout to drink full flavored beers at happy hour, eat a huge bowl of pasta at dinner with my friends, or just plain don’t feel like getting on the damn tredmill...well fuck it. And fuck any guy who can’t handle that!! I have a brain that I want to use more. I just wish I could meet a man who had one he wanted to use as well...
Okay...so that was just a ruse. For once I don’t want to talk about sex. Sorry if you’re disappointed. I know, I know...what happened? I just got back from this trip to Cabo...I should be all up on here typing away at all the men I hooked up with in another country. I should be telling all the tawdry details of my many nights out and drunk under the Mexican moon. I should be going on and on about how I wish I would have gotten that guys number so I could maybe talk to him again sometime. I should be. But I’m not. I’m not because it didn’t happen. That’s what I definitely thought would happen. I mean...I took two single friends with me. No homes to worry about wrecking. Free as birds to do what we want, who we want, when we want! And yet...
Yet I made the horrible decision to go down during Spring Break. That’s what happened. I should have known better and gone the week before. Or the month before. Or the month after. But March is a special month. It’s my birthday month! And it’s cold here. I wanted to come back with hundreds of photos of the beach to prove I was having a much better time than those scraping ice off their cars, wearing socks and shoes, and just living in the fucking frozen tundra I call home. At leat I accomplished something while I was down there! It was gorgeous. Anyone reading this can see all the fabulous pics I took of all the good warm times we had. Waking up and laying in the sun all day was the most relaxing and wonderful thing I’ve done in a really long time. Just hearing the ocean waves was calming and centering. I really find myself when I get back to the ocean. I spent 10 years of my life next to an ocean and a little part of my heart remains there. But enough of that...maybe I’ll talk about that again sometime...
My feelings of regret for going down during Spring Break are centered around the people I encountered while I was down there. I should have known. Here I’m thinking...sure, there will be a few high school kids--but bring on the men looking to get laid. There were no men. None that I talked to anyway. There were a
That’s all it was down there. Tits and ass. Absolutely phenomenal setting if I were a 22 year old frat guy. Fo sho. The only guy to buy me a drink was 18. I asked him how many years of school he had left and he says...oh I’m graduating this year, I’m a senior in high school! Fantastic. Thanks for the beer now please don’t talk to me again unless your mom needs a babysitter because, frankly, I could use the extra cash! Seriously though...I expected some of that. I’m not totally dumb. I knew these people existed. I’ve watched my fair share of MTV Spring Break. However, I thought they just picked out the best looking idiots and threw them on tv. Now I realize that there was no need to pick and choose good looking idiots. They were ALL OVER. Now, I have hot friends. Lots of them. In fact...I don’t really hang out with ugly people...but they aren’t air heads. They aren’t hitting the bars wearing only an oversized scarf and wagging their crotches in guys faces. I can’t really say the same for any of the attractive guys I know however...hehe...
So anyways...when I say Let’s Talk About Sex...and then I mean--but let’s really not...what I’m trying to get across here is that if I have to watch anymore people have sex on the dance floor, try to have sex on the dance floor, or walk around seeking nothing but sex on the dance floor--I’m joining a monastary. Yes, I love sex. I’ve had a lot of it. I’ve had a lot of it with guys I know, guys I don’t know, guys I’ve just met, guys I’ve known since junior high, guys I’m dating, and guys I would never date. I hope to have much much more of it actually. In fact...I’d be doing it right now if there was a man naked in my bed. Wait a minute...two minute fantasy break... Okay I’m back. So it’s not like I’m hanging up the love gloves and calling it done. It’s just that...jesus...what happened to everyone’s brains?? Can I find me a brain? Any functioning brain not hardwired for a pussy hunt? Do they exist anymore? Are there any men left interested in having some great conversation?
I just got done watching Before Sunset. It’s the 9 years later sequel to Before Sunrise which I watched earlier this week. They are two movies about two people. That’s it. Only two main characters. All they do through the whole movie is talk. Yes. And they are absolutely fantastic movies! Nothing but dialogue. Barely anything else at all. They walk and talk, sit and talk, stand and talk, lay and talk, fuck and talk. It’s amazing. It was seriously a breath of fresh air from all the crap I’ve seen recently. I don’t particularly enjoy Ethan Hawk. As a matter of fact, he creeps the hell out of me. He looks to be in a constant state of drug remission and I just don’t trust those beedy eyes. He plays a serial killer well...but I didn’t mind him in these movies. He was a real guy. Genuine. The conversation was real. And it was real heart breaking.
I used to fancy myself an intellectual. When I was in college I had conversations all the time. Real ones. Not just...what are we doing Friday? Who is this boy you like? Did you see that show last night? What should I do about this guy? Are we gonna get drunk tonight? I mean...those are great. They are fun! They are the bread and butter of a social life. But what about a spiritual life? Not a...I believe in God blah blah bullshit stuff like that...but the soul touching conversations. The ones where two or more people discuss things that matter. Things that make a difference. Their hopes, their dreams, their inspirations. Conversations where people disagree but don’t end up in a "fight" over it. The conversation of people who are interested in life beyond what girls on The Hills are wearing and who’s going to win American Idol. Topics outside of themselves and the shit the media feeds us as entertainment.
I need to find me a man who will sit up all night and talk to me about these things. I don’t have the time or energy to discuss these things with people from work...we really should be working. Or when I’m out shopping...best time to discuss trends. Or when I’m out to dinner...what better time to discuss the men in and out of our lives? So that leaves all that other time when I’m by myself. I spend a lot of time with my friends and I enjoy every minute of it. But I also spend a lot of time alone just dying to have that kind of conversation. It’s almost sad to me that the only time I get to open up and discuss things in life outside myself are when I’m on inhaled substances. Let’s be honest though, what conversation isn’t intellectually stimulating at that time...
So to bring these two ideas together--yes, I planned to do it eventually--all I encounter are men looking for the first scenario and none looking for the the second scenario. Granted...any man I meet recently is usually kicked out in the morning before there can be any conversation...but that’s not the point. The point is, none that I meet are worth keeping around to hear more. I talked for a couple hours once to one guy. I think I mentioned before how we layed in bed and chatted all morning. It was fun and refreshing. It’s so ridiculously pathetic that I can’t trace any other talks with guys to any sooner than probably 2005. If I did have them...they are forgettable. It really only seems like guys in my world are interested in either having sex...getting some t&a...or finding a girl with some t&a to have some sex with.
Seriously...I just don’t know what to do at this point. I, literally, worked my ass off for this trip! I lost 30 fucking pounds eating shit food and working out almost every day. I felt guilty if I ate a burger or slept in. I spent the better part of a year scrutinizing every last possible point of my body and wishing and hoping it would get smaller by the time I left for
No guys were interested in me. I felt so good about myself before going down there. None of my clothes fit anymore. I had to purchase a damn belt and I had it tightened so tight my pants bunched in front and looked silly. But it didn’t matter. Not down there. I felt like I had wasted all this time trying to "fit in" down there. There was no way I was going to "fit in" in that
Looking at all those guys and those girls...I just felt sad for it all. I should have chilled and ate burgers more often and gone with the idea of rest and relaxation. Somewhere around the second or third night we went out I realized my efforts were useless. I live in
Those guys were morons! The lot of them. The only few I found interesting enough to talk to were either from the midwest...or another country! The rest of them were sometimes just plain rude. Girls gotta realize that guys like that...who want girls like that...aren’t worth trying to get. Those guys and those girls were meant to be together. They were made for each other. And those people will be the only people who they believe will ever gmake them happy...whether that’s true or not. Very few of those types of people cross over in to the real world of real people with real bodies and real brains. I sure as shit enjoy a good romp in the hay...and here in
It just made me realize that I’m getting a little tired of settling for those nights and those guys. I want to know that there are guys out there who enjoy talking about their opinions on things other than sports and hot girls. I want to see evidence that there are men out there wanting to use their brains with women too! I mean...sure...fuck all day long...but spend the night in conversation for once. Is that too much to ask? I have such great memories of times with ex-boyfriends...laying on the bed--fully clothed!--and just talking. Talking all damn night long. Talking so long that the birds started to chirp before we went to bed. I remember there weren’t any thoughts of getting the other naked--at least not too many thoughts that it became distracting--it was all just so nice. I don’t care if the topic is the relevance of the hero character in 80’s cartoons or their stance on
I can’t handle it anymore. I couldn’t handle the body of people running around like animals sniffing each other’s butts and sizing up if they’re just drunk enough to bring home for the night! It was all very carnal and thoughtless. It doesn’t take much to think...Oooh, pretty hair, tight ass, big boobs, me like, club on head, drag home...Oot oot...scratch ass, pick fleas, eat boogers. Jesus christ guys...show me the fucking money here! Prove you’re not just a bunch of neanderthals trying to spread your seed to any tanned twat that crosses your path. It seems we single girls are left with these men. They are the only single ones left because no smart woman can put up with wandering eyes and an inability to committ. I want to believe there are men left with hearts and minds whose bloodflow can work both their brain AND their penis at the same time. I have no problems with a guy looking to do it all the time. It’s a thought that crosses my mind rather frequently. But ya gotta be willing to prove that once your man parts wear out...the clock in your head will still be ticking!
The search will continue. Maybe I’m living a sheltered life. Maybe I don’t get out enough...um...I don’t know if that’s possible, but maybe my eyes just aren’t open. I sincerely hope it’s not that all the good ones are taken. I refuse to believe that the type of guy described above is the only one left. There’s got to be someone out there somewhere who will not have to wait until I get down to my "desired weight, hair color, skin color..." to be interested in my personality. There’s got to be someone who realizes that good looks fade, but stupid goes straight down to the bone! "I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because uh some people out there in our nation don’t have maps...and I believe that our education like such as in
I believe the philosphy of that email forward that says we women should not lay as peaceful tanned stick figures in our graves but slide in sideways with chocolate in one hand and a glass of wine in the other hollering damn what a ride that was! I plan to enjoy my life! And if that means I miss a workout to drink full flavored beers at happy hour, eat a huge bowl of pasta at dinner with my friends, or just plain don’t feel like getting on the damn tredmill...well fuck it. And fuck any guy who can’t handle that!! I have a brain that I want to use more. I just wish I could meet a man who had one he wanted to use as well...
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