Awkward Shopping Moments
Between work and another thing today I stopped into the bookstore thinking I might find a little something I couldn’t live without (I love books, I should tell you). I hadn’t gone in bookstore in a while, actually, because I have such a tall stack of need-to-be-reads already.
So I was perusing the fiction area, checking out what was new and saw that Agent Provocateur has come out with two little collections of erotic fiction titled Confessions and Secrets respectively. I picked up Confessions and skimmed through it, decided it was something I could definitely use in the future and held onto it as I continued to look around.
I remembered I wanted to look for a certain CD (The Weepies, highly recommended), and yes I know I could probably find it much cheaper somewhere else but I figured if they had it I’d just get it to put an end to my search (and it wouldn’t allow me to forget). It was one of those places that lumps most music genres together in a way that is a little frustrating as the things you’re looking for are not Pop Rock at all, but since they wouldn’t end up in the Hip-Hop or Classical sections you have to search through the whole big one. The gentleman working there asked if he could help me and I told him what I was looking for, he found it in the computer and showed me to the teeny-tiny Folk section (which actually made sense) where he found it right away.
I started to walk towards the front of the store to go ahead and pay for my things when he said, “If you’re ready to check-out I can do that here.”
Now, this guy was a really nice, sweet person, but he could have been my dad. He was probably old enough to have a kid my age or at least in high school or something. Handing over my book of sexy stories made me cringe on the inside a little. I wasn’t so much embarrassed, and I managed to be nonchalant about the whole thing, but it was a little awkward.
If only it had been a really cute bookworm, I may have been able to look him in the eye and maybe even throw in a wink.
She Will Be Loved
I found out today that someone said some very hurtful things very publicly today about one of my best and truest friends. I was distressed to hear it, as there’s a whole situation behind it and even thought that situation is pretty awful I hate to see things taken to a place where this person feels the need to rip my friend, we’ll call her Lola from now on (hope she likes it), to pieces by preying on her insecurities and supposed flaws. It’s difficult when this other person is supposed to be a friend to me as well, but I feel our friendship is hindered by her failing to be honest with me and often dismissing my feelings and not listening to me.
So Lola had a bad day, and I hate that. I love her very much and don’t want her feeling bad about herself because someone took out their hurt and frustration in a poor fashion. Therefore, I am dedicating my post today to making sure she has a bright spot in her day and feels very, very loved — too loved even.
Dear Lola,
You are fantastic. I don’t know what I did to be blessed with the amazing friends that I have, and when I think on that you are one that I always count in that number. Even when I’m feeling a little jealous of how amazing you look (seriously, don’t lose any weight because I will appear even larger than I already do by comparison), I want to be around you and have fun with you.
You’ve made some mistakes and things have gone badly, but who hasn’t? You’ve handled it all so well and I hate to see other people continue to punish you for it because you’ve been punished enough, especially with the grace that you’ve found in your move to get past all of it. You don’t deserve to be hurt the way that you have. Don’t believe a single word anyone else breathes to the contrary.
You are talented and beautiful in so many ways. Your wit is tough to match and your grammar is impeccable. You are so loving and kind, I am so grateful that you always try to make sure I know you like me. You are gorgeous and sexy and I love that you share my appreciation for knowing how to work a pair of heels. You have such amazing passion and you always seem to know how to take a mess and turn it into something sunny. Your hospitality is something I’ve come to appreciate so much with how often I end up on your couch, and how readily you’ll share your wine. I love that you are so fiery and refuse to apologize for the person you are, your new independence has made that even fiercer and you seem to know yourself even better — making you even sexier somehow. It’s been great to see you like that, and so much easier to accept the terms it comes with that way.
I could go on, but I fear becoming repetitive. Just know that I find these and so many other things about you reason that it’s so easy to be around you and be your friend. They are reasons why I want to be your friend and reasons I am so happy to be your friend.
I don’t even remember how we first bonded or how we first started discovering how much we have in common, how alike we are. Was it as seamless as it now feels? I almost feel as if we were always meant to have each other and understand each other. I never feel ridiculous telling you about whatever is in my head, because I never feel judged or feel like you don’t care because it’s silly. I’m often amazed that you let me ramble on the way I do about the strange things going on in my brain. You never downplay my feelings, you always validate me and accept me for me.
Thank you for being the way you are, for being who you are. I will love you and be your friend no matter what happens to us and no matter what we do. I found this note I wrote about/to you in my journal the other day and I will leave you with it:
Just move to Europe with me and we’ll visit Paris, Prague, Venice, etc., on the weekends and live an idyllic, romantic life. Filled with adventures of our own making and laugh enough to make it the only reason we might cry. You and I, my dear, could live care-free if we were together and far away.
But I know as well as you it won’t fix anything. Perhaps we’d be happily, blissfully ignorant for a stay before we became restless and started looking for meaning or someone to care for and be loyal to of the opposite sex.
Just remember, my love, you and I will always need each other. I will need you, anyway. You and I being so parallel and fluid. I think we could clash and recover easily because with some exceptions we are the same and will understand each other forever. I know you because I know myself, in a way.
No one could wreak havoc with me the way you can. We’re the same kind of crazy, so we can communicate in the same language.
I love you fiercely and loyally, always.
Always,
Your Maid
Long day, Long Week Ahead
Am I drinking wine out of a coffee mug right now?
Yes, I am. Don’t judge.
Zebra is the New Black
For the longest time I have always relied heavily on my black underthings to be the sexy staple. Rarely, if ever, have I dallied into prints or bright colors for my bras. Many, many, many panties have been lacy, or intense colors, or sparkly, or what-have-you, but they have always complimented the black (perhaps with a little lace) bra.
Those were the sexy things. You remember 10 Things I Hate About You, don’t you? When they go through Kat’s room and find black panties and Bianca says it means she wants to have sex? I suppose that’s how I felt about it. I felt (and still feel) incredibly sexy in black underthings. How could you not?
I defy you to find a girl that doesn’t want to show off her black underwear…
To get back on track, today I bought the sexiest bra and panties I ever owned. They are not black. They are zebra print. Because zebra has always been by far my favorite print. It’s bold but pretty. Simple and chic, but manages to be daring and sexy.
It makes me want to show my stripes…
Me
In the spirit of this being the beginning, I figure you’ll want to know a little about me and I decided to use the ten questions from Inside the Actors Studio. Why? Well because it’s kind of fun that way.
What is your favorite word?
I love words, so choosing just one to be my favorite is difficult. We’ll say audacious (at least for today).
What is your least favorite word?
Girth. Anybody remember that hot dog commercial where the guy stood there by the grill and kept using girth and variations of it to describe the hot dogs? It was creepy and weird and I can’t handle that word anymore.
What turns you on?
Rainy days, great music (especially live great music), good conversation, dancing, fabulous heels, strong hands, the way breathing close to someone’s neck smells when you’re holding them tight, laughter, exploration…
What turns you off?
Being talked down to, not being listened to, being told what to do, scary movies, when people are hateful, intolerance, kitten heels and ugly shoes, beige…
What sound or noise do you love?
Laughter.
What sound or noise do you hate?
The garage door opening when I’ve been enjoying the place to myself.
What is your favorite curse word?
Fuck. In every form and conjugation, especially “fuckers.”
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Trophy wife?
What profession would you not like to do?
Anything devoid of passion and creativity or that’s on that Dirty Jobs show.
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
Sweet! Now we can start the party! ;)
The First
Ah, the first post.
What do I say, lovelies? I’m here to be heard and not seen. I live a crazy passionate and fantastic life and I want to tell you all about it. Tell you all my fun secrets and perhaps get advice on all the things I don’t share with flesh-and-blood friends…
I’m excited and I can’t wait to meet you, come back often as things will only get more interesting…
There is so much to do around here, organization and editing and etc., a few minor renovations so don’t judge the decor and substance just yet!
