BloggingDangerously

Sex Homework: You are TOTALLY not off the hook

This week got so crazy that I completely forgot that yesterday was supposed to be a "Sex Homework" day.   And OF COURSE no one reminded me.  You guys are like college kids who show up to class and then sit there staring at the clock because if the teacher shows up more than 15 minutes late you can all leave. 

Anyway, homework...

I'm struggling with the assignment this week because as I type this my husband is in the other room, sweating, shivering and hacking up a lung.  (no offense honey! I love you!)

It doesn't help that I am CONVINCED (despite several attempts by learned medical professionals to assure me otherwise) that the common cold lives in semen.

So this will have to be a solo assignment:

Lie in your bed with the lights out and your eyes closed.  Picture yourself walking down a dark road.  You notice someone walking toward you.  As they approach they are one of the hottest people you have ever seen.  They walk up to you - two feet away - and you see hunger in their eyes.

You want them.  You feel it between your legs.  You don't know this person but it feels like you've known them forever.  There are vague objections in your mind but your eyes meet and the objections fade away.

What happens next?

 

Gaga for Lady Gaga (no really)

I should start this post by saying that until today I had never heard a Lady Gaga song.  On top of that, I don't watch tv so I'd never seen her in an award show, an E Hollywood special, etc.

Once, my husband recorded a network show that had been preempted for an award show and when he played it, I was in the room.  We watched Lady Gaga play the piano in a glass box and then we watched her smash the box to pieces.  We looked at each other like "WTF just happened" and turned it off.

And that was the end of my experience with Lady Gaga.  I don't even follow her on Twitter.

But I AM an uber-geek so when I saw that Google invited Lady Gaga to campus I had to watch it - for the Google folks - not Lady Gaga.

And the interview was SO amazing.  And I was captivated by Lady Gaga's quiet graciousness.  She didn't have a mean thing to say about anyone.  She talked about how she only focuses on the positive.  She spoke about what a great family she has, how happy her friends are to see her when she's in NY, how she angers her security detail by over-interacting with her fans, etc.

I know I'm gushing but I can't help it.  I had to go to the gym 3/4 of the way through the video and I left inspired to be a better person - to focus on the positive in my life and how lucky I am and not on what I don't have.

The video is long but from the high-tech Google intro to the very end I was spellbound. 

If you need to take a shortcut watch the intro then go to 7:55, 11:30, 13:20, 31:20, 41:30, 42:10, My favorite at 46:25, and 47:27

 

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

G-Spot: Invitation

Today I was hoping to post a guest post but I don't have any in the queue.  (If you sent me one and I lost it - please resend!)

If you have an idea for a spicy post (published anonymously or not) write it up and send it over!

In the mean time, I'll tell you a story that I *ahem* heard in my youth.

Once apon a time there was this cute 16 year old girl, naive in the ways of love.  But she had a crazy crush on a LOSER who lived in the town where she spent her summers.

She SHOULD NOT have had a crush on this boy.  He was greasy, with long hair and absolutely no regard for anyone or anything.  I suppose that's what she liked about him - his bad boy ways.

Anyway, she flirted and fawned over him until it was overly apparent to everyone that she had a crazy crush and everyone was appropriately nauseated.

One day everyone was hanging out and the girl's brother walked up to her and said, "Hey I'm going swimming, will you hold this for me?" - and handed her 35 cents that he had gotten by collecting redeemable bottles and cans out of the trash cans on the beach.  It wasn't much but it was enough for a candy bar and the boy was only 12.

The girl took the money and put it on the picnic table.  A couple of minutes later she noticed her crush walking away from the table - and that the money was gone.

"Give it back." she told him.

"What?" he sneered.

"The money." she told him.  "Put it back."

"I don't have any money." he told her looking straight into her eyes.

"It's THIR-TY-FIVE cents." she said slowly making sure he understood that he was selling her love for $0.35.  He was a 15 year old scumbag so of course he didn't understand.

"I didn't take it." he said.

"Fine." she said watching him walk away and wondering for the first time - but not the last - how a boy could be so dumb.   

Later that day a guy friend of hers said to her, "Eric bet me a dollar that he could get you to give him a blow job."  She laughed.

That night they sat around the fire on the beach, ten or fifteen of them, like they always did.  Eric walked up to her.  "Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked.

"Sure." she said.  The friend who had told her about the wager looked at her questioningly but she looked away.

They walked down the beach a bit.  She could tell that they were being followed by his friends who were probably hoping to figure out what a blow job even was.

He stopped and faced her.  She looked up at him.  "Eric?" she asked.

"Yeah." he said.

She raised her voice and practically sang  "There is NO FUCKING WAY I am giving you a blow  job."  She walked back to the fire while his friends rolled in the sand laughing.

In the end he traded $.035 for the $1 he possibly would have won.  Although he may have had to spend it on salve.  So maybe he came out ahead.

It Feels Like 10 Minutes.... Underwater

Last year I blogged about How I Met My Husband.  This year I decided to do something about it.

Last Friday was the tenth anniversary of the day that we met.  I started obsessing about planning it early in the week.  First, I considered whether or not it made sense to spend $500 on a less than 24 hour love fest.  I decided that I could NEVER justify spending that much money just to have sex.

Then I remembered that we had 3 unopened varieties of K-Y waiting to be sampled and I called my mom and asked her to babysit Friday night. (I did NOT mention the K-Y.)

Then I proceeded to solicit every single hotel in Boston for a "media rate" in exchange for reviewing their property as the "Ultimate Weekend Getaway Locale."

The Mandarin Oriental was the only property that was eager to help - unfortunately their media rate was out of my price range.  (Although their property is GORGEOUS and I highly recommend it if you have the budget.)

I finally booked a room via Hotwire.  I made a reservation at Grill23 for dinner.

And then I panicked that my husband would be too tired to go, or wouldn't want to spend the money, or wouldn't have a clean shirt for the restaurant. 

So I totally ruined the surprise on Thursday night.

Which was just as well because I went for a run on Friday afternoon and when I got home my mother was already there.  (She's notoriously early.)  Can you IMAGINE how awkward it would have been if my mother had broken the surprise to him?  "You're taking my daughter to have sex in Boston."

Speaking of awkward, earlier in the day I had mentioned to my boss that we were going into Boston for the night for our anniversary.  It seemed like an innocent remark when I made it but it became pretty clear, pretty quickly that I just said I was going to have "hotel sex" and it really killed the conversation.

So my husband and I got ready to go while my mom hung out with the kids.  I ordered and paid for pizza and then we left.

Just.like.that.

No fireworks, no histrionics, no "I'll miss you momma" - which I get every time I go for a 35 minute run!

It was pretty anticlimactic.  And nice.

Except WTF? Don't those kids know how much we do for them? And they're not even going to FUCKING MISS US?

So, we get into Boston and I direct my husband to the hotel - which is SHOCKING because I have NO sense of direction.  NONE.  When God gave out senses of direction, I didn't get any - because I was LOST.

So we pull into the hotel and go up to our room.  And...

he unpacks.

We're going to be there for less than 18 hours and he has to unpack.  Thank you US ARMY.

Then we go to the bar for a drink.  But their taps were broken so he had a bottle of beer and I had nothing.  Well, nothing except for half of his bottle of beer.

Then we walked to the restaurant in the most direct way possible.  Or maybe not.  Because he let me lead - which I pointed out SEVERAL TIMES - was really not the best idea since he's been with me for TEN YEARS!

So we're on our way to the restaurant and our path takes us through several hotels connected by skybridges and an indoor mall.

At the first escalator, we hop on and as the reality hits us that we are ACTUALLY on a love vacation he leans down to kiss me - and the HUGEST BOLT OF LIGHTNING comes from our lips and shocks us both to within an INCH of our lives.  It's so powerful that we don't even finish the kiss, we SCREAM, jump away from each other and clutch our mouths.

ROMANCE.

Despite my directions, we got to the restaurant early and had a drink in the bar. 

Then we were seated beside a table with three people.  We spent the next hour trying to figure out what the dynamic was between the three people and talking about our children - NO LIE.  Since it turns out the threesome beside us were parents with their law-school graduate daughter - it likely would not have taken them very long to establish our "PARENTS WHO NEVER GET OUT OF THE HOUSE AND DON'T HAVE MANY FRIENDS" dynamic as we discussed cute stories and bowel movements.

We finished dinner and went back to the hotel.  I was tired.  I crashed face-up on the bed.  My husband spied the wingchair across the room.  I won't go into too much detail about what happened next but 1) we didn't pause long enough to open the KY and 2) if you ever have occassion to be in room 2051 of the Sheraton Boston I would avoid the wingchair and PARTICULARLY the ottoman. Just saying.

There may have been subsequent activities during which we also did not pause to open the KY. 

It was during a lull in the activities that I heard the ENTIRE conversation of a couple walking the length of the hall outside our room.  Apparently NOISE CONTROL was not a focus for people building hotels in the 1960s.  Even though it was the 60s!

Anyway, the ensuing bashfulness MAY have been the reason that we never did get around to opening the KY.

We fell asleep.

Except the pillows in the Sheraton are EVIL and when you put your head down on them all of the stuffing in it shoots into the other half of the pillow - which poofs up and hits you in the face.  And no matter what you do you can't get it to stop whacking you in the face.  Unless you scrunch it down very carefully - in which case it is 1/4 of an inch think and ABSOLUTELY useless.

In the morning we went out for breakfast and AGAIN he let me lead.  - You see how getting lost is completely his fault right? - But when we got there, there was bacon.  So we stayed married.

Then we went back to the hotel and got our stuff and I bought 4 chocolate lobsters from the gift shop for the kids and we went home.

It turns out the kids DID miss us when we were gone AND did a great job helping my mom. 

We're going to try to book her for next weekend - because we STILL have to try that KY!

P.S. If this post makes you jealous at all - stop right there - because since we've been home two of our 4 children have puked and a third came home from school sick. Just when you think you can avoid parenthood there's some sort of bodily discharge (not yours) that needs to be cleaned up. 

 

Ten Things That Have Made Me Laugh Lately

I'm sorry I missed #wineparty on Friday night.  I kidnapped my husband for a romantic getaway.  I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. 

1.  My son is in a bookclub.  The moms and the sons meet every 6 weeks to discuss a book, eat pizza and then the boys play.  The morning after our last meeting I glanced at my son and noticed that he had a black eye.  "Where did you get the black eye?" I asked him.  "Book club." he said.

2. Last weekend I was in the grocery store with my 4yo.  In the middle of a crowded aisle she turned to me and asked (loudly,) "Mommy, is FUCK a bad word?"  "Yes" I told her quickly.  "How many times do you have to say FUCK before you get in trouble?" she continued.  "Only once." I told her praying that she would stop yelling "FUCK" in the middle of the store.  I was half laughing and half hiding my face in her shoulder so that no one could see my mortified face. AWESOME.

3. Our pet tarantula died last week.  It was sad but the kids didn't really mind.  Until they saw it in the trash.  I'm not overly emotional, but even I was surprised when my husband tossed it in the trash.  My 8year old looked at him like he was the devil and said, "We could have at least buried it in a PLACE OF HONOR!" He sounded like a Jedi when he said it.

4. Our new pet?  Is a snake.  True story.

5. Last weekend I went for a run.  "I want to come too" my 5yo told me.  "Let me go for part of my run and then I'll come back and get you and we'll run around the block." I told her.  I ran 2 miles.  I came back and got her and we ran 1 mile together.  She kicked my ass.

6. We had a town election last weekend.  I held a sign for one of the candidates.  While a bunch of us were standing there someone mentioned that she was going to Miami for spring break.  I thought about all of the scantily clad latina women in the gorgeous Miami heat - and about how stifling my 'business casual' attire had been on my last trip and I blurted out, "There's something about Miami that just makes me want to take my clothes off." I spent the next 5 minutes trying to explain what I meant - but I'm not sure they believed me.

7. I was RESCUED from this faux pas by the husband of the woman going to Miami when he took something she said about her weekend with the girls COMPLETELY out of context and said, "Come on honey, this isn't college any more - no more experimenting." Practically outing her as bisexual.  Suddenly me walking around naked was pretty freaking conservative.

8. I've been working out a lot lately.  At dinner one night my son asked me why I've been running so much lately.  "To lose weight." I told him.  My 4yo burst in, "You have a big butt because you eat TOO MUCH FOOD! Peace, me out." and then she got up and walked down the hall. (Fast enough that I couldn't throttle her.  Smart girl.)

9. We went to an improv comedy show Saturday night and they asked for volunteers from the audience.  All of my children raised their hand and they chose my 5yo.  She went up on stage and did an amazing job.  I'm okay with public speaking but would not volunteer to do improv in front of 100 people.

10.  I am a sympathetic puker.  I always have been.  In college I worked at a concert venue and whenever someone puked they had to call someone else or I would vomit on top of the vomit - something so gross that just thinking about it now is making me feel queasy.  All day today my oldest son was lying on the couch saying he felt terrible.  I thought it was allergies because he described it as runny nose, sore throat, headache.  We gave him Children's Tylenol and he just had a stuffy nose.  I kept suggesting that he go to bed but he refused - opting to lie in front of the tv instead.  At dinnertime we made him come in for a little bit of food.  He took a sip of milk and then retched a bit.  I thought he was faking because he hadn't wanted to leave the couch - and he was aiming for the middle of the table.

"Don't you dare throw up on the dinner table." I told him.  He looked up at me and vomitted all over the table.  "GO TO THE BATHROOM" I yelled and dove for the kitchen sink.  Luckily 8+ years of parenting have dulled my vomit reflex.  THANKFULLY it hasn't dulled it TOO much.  I dry heaved over the sink while my husband cleaned up the vomit and took care of our son.