Know The Difference

At the moment... I need to remind myself to let go. I need to remind myself I cannot control everything. I need to remember I can't fix it all at once but only take a step at a time. I feel like everything around me is a mess. I start to feel an ounce of control and happiness for living and something walks by the blackboard and all the chalk is reduced to incoherent smears and smudges of dust.

I thought I found the car I could buy. It drove so smooth. It was hot. It was clean. But turns out the $300 dollars worth of work it needed was really $1200. I sure as fuck cannot afford that. I'm running out of time as my once loving, understanding husband has turned into a snarling asshole of heat and anger. He wants "his" van. Ya know... the one we got when he wrecked my Taurus. The one we used the Geico check to fix. Fuck it, let him have the minivan piece of shit. I don't want it anyways!!

And to top things off - I'm insanely jealous. You'd think I'd learn, but I never seem to. How can I say, 'you aren't the right one for me'... and in the same breath say, 'but no one else can have you'? What type of bullshit have I trained myself to believe? I want every bit of attention and admiration I can get from him... and to give some in return, but I'm unwilling to give my heart. It seems absolutely inconceivable to me that a grown adult woman that knows how love and life works should still be having such silly thoughts. I miss him... but still I push away in fear that being too close I'll see the happiness that I am not apart of. How can I be so possessive? I hate myself for it. I consider jealousy - at least within myself - unforgivable.

So here's my thought at the moment... it's all I have. I always loved hearing this. I think maybe The Serenity Prayer should be my life motto.

"God grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change;

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference. "

I'm not religious... but right now I need that strength. God's strength, whosever it is. I want everything to be at peace... I want to float away on that thought. Can I please get some serenity?

Hot In Here... Or Just Me?

For the last couple weeks... I have been fighting the urges that had once felt so primal to me. I don't want to make it sound like I'm all the shit, cause God knows there are too many out there that already believe that they are, but I have a waiting list. Or at least figuratively. It's not like I make them take numbers or anything, they just choose to stick around, to wait, and to want. The ones I've fucked before too that beg to be back in my noisy ass bed slamming me and feeling it all once again.

I had been trying to stay sober - so to speak. I was trying to sleep with no one. Trying to be the good girl this society has raised me to be. I just happen to let it all out occasionally and fuck like crazy. But not now. For now I'll wear the mini-skirt and just tease the living-shit out of him!

But honestly, I am feeling so damned weak!! I try to meet them a few times first, mostly. I try to follow the rules. I try not to kiss too much, if at all... cause baby, once the river starts flowing... I can't make it stop! I try to stay out of my apartment, because once the fever begins I do not know how to cool it down and we are headed for the back room!


What happens when I get this insatiable lust and I have no (special) one to quench it? ... well. LOL... there are toys, but it is just not the same. All those men that see the Big Pink vibrator come out of the drawer and their eyes grow as fast as their tents are pitched - they think that means they must not be good enough. They are dead fucking wrong! Big Pink does not have those sexy, manly hands to run up my thighs and over my hips.

So, I can fall down and take care of it on my own... but I'd really prefer not to. If I were with a guy I'd totally do it for him. But I'm not with one. I'm all alone and this heat is killing me. It is a totally raw desire. Everything inside of me seems to be speaking the same language and screaming it! My entire body is overwhelmed and somehow under-touched. Can't fucking imagine how that is possible... but my body sure is preaching it.

Unwilling to step to the back with Big Pink on my own, filled with lust and a ravenous craving to fuck the shit out of some guy, to feel that incredible friction. Do I just pick a number? Do I throw it all to the wind? Forget these fabulous morals I've been trying to train myself to endure? Most of all, where the fuck did this heat come from and when will it pass??? Dear God... I need an ice storm!

Make A Wish...

Last night was the best night for one of the biggest meteor showers of the year. I have to admit I don't honestly believe I've seen a shooting star before. I always look up longingly waiting for something to fly across the sky. I look like a little girl with such innocence looking up this macrocosm. It's incredible. It's untouchable. It's infinite. ... and I am in awe.

I remember when I was little always looking at the sky. I would lay in the grass and feel the blades run through my tiny fingers and look at the stars and try to make out constellations. The Big Dipper pointing me to the North Star was always my favorite. Or in the daytime I'd lay on a beach towel or lawn chair and watch the clouds roll by and try to invision them as shapes. Time always seems to be in abundance when you are a kid. You never know it. You never really have the intelligence or the mentality to stop and see what a huge thing you are a part of. You spend your time looking forward to your next birthday and age mile-marker.

So here I am... twenty-four years old... staring out into the Milky Way waiting to see the stars dance across the sky. I leaned backward over my balcony railing arching myself just to see around my roof. I felt like a little kid, standing beside my new best friend - my roommate. We were both eager to see. We were both there arched over the railing peering up into the clear night sky. I felt myself asking question after question much the way a six year old does when they go someplace new and completely foreign to them. What does it look like? How often does it happen? What causes it? Where should I look? Can I see it from the city like this? It was a rapid fire... and she was taking my hits like a pro.

And there it was!! One sharp bright streak blinked so fast in front of my eyes I hardly even knew I saw it and it was gone. I squealed with delight! ... and she got just as excited for my first sight at a shooting star. We stood there longer daydreaming about standing there with guys. Here we are two grown women seeing something so incredible and fulfilling and we still want someone else to share it with. What must that say about me?

... I wish to be laying out in the grass with my head resting on his arm, the smell of him drugging me into sweet intoxication, caressing his skin, feeling the tingles from his fingers stroking my hair, and the goosebumps I get from the cool night air mixing with the warmth of our bodies.

In essence... I am a girl. Wether I am big and grown or little and impressionable. I want to be filled with love and life. I want to giggle and be happy. My wish is that all of my dreams come true... is that too much to ask?

Making... Friends?

I've been trying to meet people off and on from the internet. Sometimes I care, sometimes I don't. But recently I found the sweetest guy to talk with and hang out with and I've found myself completely perplexed with the whole situation.


I started talking to the guy one of the strangest ways possible, but for the sake of the story all that matters is that he came from the internet. He expressed some interest and I expressed some back. We started chatting... and it has been so completely easy and comfortable. We flow from topic to topic effortlessly without those blank and akward moments of silence in between. It really is so much fun talking with him.


So clearly the next step would be to meet. I... the girl that never makes the first move, and surely does not invite guys out... asked him to hang out. We went to the park and sat by the water enjoying a sunset together. It was honestly very romantic. The weather was warm enough for short sleeves but cool enough that once the sun had passed I longed for his warm touch on my shoulders. We decided to prolong the evening and ended up eating dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. Still fun, playful, and enjoyable the entire evening through. Even as he dropped me home he had me laughing my ass off as I stepped out of his car.


We chatted as soon as he got home that night and laid the evening perfectly to rest. I keep thinking to myself - this is how it should be. Completely simple and enjoyable. I had him over the very next day just to be near him more. This has not been a sexual relationship. Granted, I am me, there is shameless flirting and teasing... but we've mainly held it together. We have yet to even kiss. I think that must come from his strong desire to be respectful. If it weren't for that... I'm starting to feel like a Catholic School Girl - not the overly eager, sexy thigh highs and plaid mini skirt kind either.


I laid in his arms watching tv just enjoying being close to someone like that. It felt so good, so completely safe. I could feel his strong, sexy chest through his incredibly soft cotton shirt. I could feel the satiny smooth skin of his hands and arms as they were running up and down my sides. The whole experience was melting me inside and out. I can't even describe the amount of comfort and love I feel just from laying with a man, this man.

... But it's not all right. At this point I think it is proving itself to me. Afterall, I am extremely sexual... so to have seen eachother these few times and still not have been sexual. Clearly something inside of me is trying to say this isn't that type of relationship. I think I hate it. I hate that voice! I want to rebel! Once again I am at a place where I completely disagree with myself. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I've met one of the sweetest, sexiest guys in the upstate area who is actually interested in me and my body says no. What the fuck!?! Not to say I never would sleep with him. ...Because the truth is if it falls right, I would sleep with him or be intimate with him easily... but it would have to fall perfectly into place.

I have expressed my feelings to him. I told him how I think friendship is all I can offer at this point. And being his normal, sweet, respectful self he hears me. Hold the fucking books!! .. He hears me!! I feel like that alone should place my body back on the right track to intimacy... But it doesn't. Once again, I feel broken! I'm truly pissed at myself... truly.

But I still want to be near him. For two days I have fought the urge to invite him over or out. It's like I'm stuck on him. I want to be near him and flirt with him and enjoy his company. I feel minutely insane! How can I not? How can I want to flirt and tease and seduce him... but not deliver? I really feel that would be unfair of me to do to him. He says it is fair. Is he insane too? Do guys really want to be teased knowing damn well there is little chance it will ever be delivered on? Friends are wonderful... this friend is wonderful... I don't want to jeopardize this friendship. What is fair in terms of a could-have-been relationship turned just friendship?

A Concept of Accountability

Does anyone actually do what they say they are going to anymore? I mean, I know men are men. But there has to be some degree of... 'I told this person I would see them, so I should see them'. Doesn't there???

So for those of you curious about my Monday night endeavors... they didn't happen. What the fuck do I care, honestly... my sexual needs are completely filled ... for now. But I went on my marry way as planned. I got out of work, hurried up and got to the gym so I could get done, was ready to get home and get cleaned up for the action. But knowing him... knowing how this always plays out, I texted him at the end of my workout to make sure it was all still on schedule.

It wasn't... of course. Why would I trust him? This man has shown me nothing but a lack of accountability. He has told me I was number one on his list and continued on to prove to me I really wasn't. And yet, I'm still blind to it. Someone hang me upside down and slap the shit out of me. Why can't I see? He says he wants to see me and I move shit around because the idea of being wanted stirs me so deeply. But I'm not really... it's just a fix. He reminds me of that everytime and I can't stop opening myself up to it. It's insanity, in the purest form.

... But he's not the only one. This chess game plays over and over in a rhythmic, pre-planned attack and everytime I fall into the trap that I think so many women must fall into. Why can't I see his moves ahead of time? Why can't I see that he is luring me in? He has no intention of coaxing me into a sweet lesson to be remembered but rather this vicious cycle of regret. I get ready... and wait. Does every woman do this? Do we all just wait? Do we all sit hating ourselves for believing? Do we wallow in self-pitty that we didn't see it coming? GAH! I beat myself up! And for what? Because this piece of shit couldn't have the foresight to think of me before making intercepting plans for our evening. I should have known! And worst... to ask why or how he could forget or plan without thinking of how it would affect... makes me into a clingy bitch. Then I'm the one in the wrong. I'm the one without a life because I planned for my stupid plans!!

I went back to gym once he finally texted me back asking to reschedule. BAH!!! Reschedule???? Are you insane!?! Well... yes, I am. But I even told him I didn't think rescheduling would work. I'm proud of myself. I'm proud of my anger. For once I stood on my own two and screamed softly back at him, "I will always be last on your list!" He texted back, "I understand."... he fucking understands and I know he will do it again next time.

Does anyone have a concept of accountability anymore? I curse myself for stereotyping, but why do men do this? Is this some sort of protection system? Why am I always made out to be the bad guy because someone else doesn't have enough respect? Fuck it, don't respect me... someone else will have the pleasure of my naked body against theirs! At least... until the next time he asks for me...

What Is A Failure?

This weekend felt much like what I would imagine a failure feels like... much like I expected it would feel when you get too happy, too pleased, and satisfied all that is left is a crash. Life, afterall, cannot always be happy, can it? There I was on my mountain of hidden gold just enjoying the view but I feel like I hit a mud slide, maybe not even just one but a series of them.

I guess there was never one really wrong thing but it just felt like nothing was going as planned, and the few things that stayed on track as planned didn't feel nearly as good as I had hoped. The weekend was supposed to be made up of dancing, excercising, and being near friends. The first event on the schedule was a boat trip with my cousin which, inevitably, was cancelled due to the rain. Instead I took a nap. This was really a good thing since all my time awake is sure to catch up with me at some point.

Then the plan was to take my cousin and roommate out to Singers, a local bar and karaoke hot spot just outside of Syracuse, where I was meeting up with some of my co-workers. This was probably the highlight of my weekend. I enjoyed a couple interesting new drinks and shamelessly flirted with the sexy-singing bartender. He had a smile that melted me with dimples, the adorable short spikey hair I'm dying to run my fingers through, incredible pecs that he was teasing us all with through his tight t-shirt, and a rocking ass. :P So I, of course, had to hit on him. My roommate suggested I ask him about making a 'wet pussy' and I did... it was really quite funny! Then after I drank my 'wet pussy', my 'purple rain', and my rum and Coke... I slurred over the bar to him. You're really fuckin' hot! He teased me asking if it was the 'purple rain' talking. I told him I thought it before the drink, that it was just helping me say it. HA! It was totally fun!

We left to go out dancing... but plans kept falling through. My roommate backed out of going. And shortly after we got out to start dancing my cousin wanted to leave. It proved to be a bit more than I could take. I got home just in time to flirt with my 38 year old friend and fall fast asleep. I woke up feeling the effects of the 'purple rain' and a bit pissed off about my previous evening. I figured for sure Saturday would be a better day.

We had plans to attend an exotic dance class and then go out dancing afterwards. I was super psyched about the class thinking how sexy and good I would feel about myself after the fabulous and costly workout.

I write this in the name of the honesty I proclaimed in my first-ever post. ... I took the day Saturday to relapse a bit into my previously diagnosed sexual addiction. It had been almost a month and a half since I had slept with anyone. Partially because I wanted the last him to be my one and only... and partially because sleeping around is just not healthy physically or emotionally. ... But I am weak when it comes to soldiers. I called up an old fuck buddy (soldier-friend) and asked if he wanted some. Of course he did! I sent a declaration text before I went over ... that I would not be leaving until he made me cum. I went to his house and laid with him on the couch for a short while before we were both teased enough to get ourselves up off the gorgeous leather couches and stumble to the back bedroom. It was quick and delicious... but I came so I really didn't care either way. I kept telling myself this was a physical need I was fulfilling. Was it? ... Can I say with 100% certainty that this fuck was only because my body couldn't stand to go without? I'm not sure.

The dance class was a bust. Not because the class wasn't fun... because it was. Watching the super hot dance instructor give us her demonstrations may have been worth the $22 alone. But having to watch myself in the mirror felt like a challenge from the moment I walked in. I felt so sick with myself. Here I have worked my ass off - literally, for the past 4 monthes... and staring into this mirror it felt like nothing. She would sway her tiny little hips and her ass would stick out. She'd instruct us to straighten our legs so our body would make the curvature that is so desirable. I just kept looking in the mirror wishing my body looked like hers, in disgust and disapproval that my body was curvy without making those hip motions... my ass already sticks out! I felt in that moment absolutely displeased with myself. It motivated me to want to go to the gym and work harder, but I walked away feeling like a piece of shit that thus far has accomplished nothing. I can assure you... this is not how I wanted to walk away from the class.

I went out after the class despite my shattered ego. Even more importantly... I went alone. This is absolutely unheard of for me and some would even consider it unsafe. I was to meet my friend downtown to share a martini before moving on to go dancing. I was paralyzed by my social anxiety disorder. I sat in my car waiting for my friend to arrive... wishing the minutes would tick by a little quicker. I was seeking someone's approval, any man's approval. I flipped through the numbers and names in my phone wishing one of them would jump out at me, wishing I knew one of them was reliable enough to be there to answer an IM or text on a Saturday evening. I found one. A guy from New Jersey... normally working on Saturdays was there. He answered and requested pictures of me. YES!!! ... I thought... this I can do. I jumped out of my minivan and snapped a few photos in the dim light of the parking garage. I sent them along for his review... and as always he was pleased. Very pleased!

The drinks at the bar were okay. I felt misplaced with this group of people on couches at a martini bar, I prefer cheap, sweet liquor you can't taste. I tried to fit. We eventually made our way across the street to go dancing. The crowd was so thick it was difficult to not step on toes. These people I was with... they were old-fashioned or something. I felt like some two cent hooker dancing beside them. I kept thinking... you have to use your ass... thats the point. I felt misplaced again. Finally the heat was over-baring and we started to make our way for the doors. Despite spending the entire time not being asked to dance... as I started to leave I was... I guess you might call it, attacked by a group of guys. One guy put his hand over my face and pushed my head down. I couldn't see where I was going, so not thinking anything of it, I stopped. I was instantly surrounded by a group of hot young guys. Had this been any other type of approach I would have loved the attention. One guy realized how large my breasts were and went nuts roaring "WHOOOAAA," as he looked at my tits bug-eyed ... and they jumpped on my like a group of monkeys on the last goddamn banana in the jungle. They pressed on me and touched me. And everytime I thought I could get away they pushed down my face again. Who the fuck was touching my face??? Why couldn't I step away? Just as I was about to be in tears I found an opening and slipped out. I caught up to my friend and said my goodbyes. This night proved to be way more than I could bare. I raced through downtown, with way too much skin exposed, all alone clutching my key in one hand and black velvet purse in the other. I made it to the comfort of my minivan where I burst into sobbing tears... it was too much, just too much.

Sunday I poured myself into men again. Still longing for my approval. I felt sick with me, sick with everything. I talked to a soldier from Ft. Drum... and as usual it turned into a sexual endeavor. Through most of our conversation I knew where it was headed. I made small adjustments to remind him I wasn't looking for a random romp, but really I didn't do or say enough. I teased him until, as he said it... "I seduced him into driving an hour and a half just to see me". I'm fine with that, I'm happy to have that power. I made playful attempts to say he may not get laid... but we both knew he would. We watched a movie where I spent most of the time in his lap rubbing his thighs and chest before making my way up his pant legs and then inevitably pulling him into my bedroom to fuck the shit out of him.

Well... there you go... sexual addiction at its finest. I was feeling so strong and now I feel like I've let it all go. And worse yet... tonight I have plans to see an ex and the sex portion is already planned out. I honestly can't wait because this ex-navy hottie is always incredible in bed!

So where the fuck did I lose it? How did I let this fabulously planned weekend turn to shit? I really shouldn't express complete disapproval for my sexual expiditions... because I did and do love them, I guess I just hate how I feel after sometimes. I hate the numbers, there is something to be said for a woman that is sexually confident... but I don't know if I should be proud or ashamed, and I think I lean toward shame. Was this weekend a failure? I don't want to sink much lower. I want to go back to my focus and stay strong!!