Best Birthday EVER!

Sometimes a birthday reaches perfection.

First off, the weather gods heard my plea and took away the humidity which really helped with my wanting to murder those around me.  David and Rissa made me breakfast and gave me these birthday cards:

David's card made me weepy when I read it.  He wrote
"I'm Always aiming for THIS box."

Rissa 'gets' me.  In addition to choosing a card with squirrels in party hats,
she wrote "...as weird and as awesome as you..."

When I got home from work, Rissa had made me my favourite 3-in-1 chocolate birthday cake, of which  I had 2 pieces... because it was my birthday.  Then they gave me this:

Any guesses?  Think on it, and we'll get back to that.

After presenting me with my gift, David and Rissa then kidnapped me and took me to the big city for seafood!  When I asked David if we could walk to the next portion of the evening - he told me the intersection to which we were going (Yonge & Carlton) and that we had to be there at 6:40.  6:40. Yonge & Carlton.  There was an art-house cinema at Yonge and Carlton.  My eyes got wide.  Was the 2nd thing a movie thing??  A movie we couldn't see in small-town Ontario??

"Is it a movie?!?"  Going to the movies is my favourite activity.  Sex is a step down from going to the movies for me and I love sex.

"It might be..."

What movies had I been jonesing to see that didn't play near us?  I could only think of one that I'd been whining about.  An angels' chorus went off in my head...

"Is it maybe a Joss Whedon movie?  Maybe an adaptation of Shakespeare kind of movie?!?"  I was now bouncing in my seat.

"Yes.  Yes it is."

They took me to see Much Ado About Nothing!  That's how much my spouse and kid love me.  Neither one of them love Shakespeare the way that I do and yet they took me to do something that I would love.  The Bard geek in me was very happy.

Back to the weird-ass gift...

Did you figure it out?  Althought it might look like a duvet, it's not.  It is a weighted blanket, on account of the fact that in the summer, I hate being able to only have the sheet on me because it's too hot.  So they made me this blanket filled with plastic beads.  They learned how to use the sewing machine and made it themselves and it was a (shhhhh!) secret.   There was much waggling of eyebrows and knowing glances between them for the last 2 weeks, but they managed not to spill the beads.  (See what I did there?  The blanket was filled with... plastic beads.)  It weighs approximately 19 lbs.   If it were filled with lead I could totally take it with me to the dentist's office!  According to this brand you can buy, there are all these other benefits too...

http://www.myweightedblanket.com/

What's truly spectacular?  I only have one (1) thing on that list!!  How great is that?  Even better?  My Disorder/Syndrome Blanket didn't smother me when I slept under it, so that's a real plus!  And it was relatively cool to sleep under - the true test will be when the humidity comes back and I want to kill all living things in my path.

And this morning?  I ate birthday cake for breakfast - because I could.  Life is good.

Stoned dudes in Sears

I was recently in Sears buying underwear for Rissa.  I wasn't really 'put together,' hadn't dressed up, probably had no makeup on.  It was an emergency underwear trip - she needed them and she needed them fast.

I was lined up, ready to pay with my 6 pairs of xs panties, when the guy in front of me in line, a fairly well-dressed guy in his early 20s, stood staring at me.  He was transfixed.

"Your eyes are soooooooo blue.... They are incredible.  Joe... Joe... LOOK at her eyes - aren't they the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen?"  His buddy waiting at the end of the cash looked at me and began to stare as well.

"Wow.  They are amazing."

I was beginning to blush - I mean sure, my eyes are fairly blue and occasionally, if I've eaten too much wasabi, they'll even go turquoise, but really, this was more than I've ever gotten from strange young men in a check-out line.  They were totally hitting on me.  I felt good.  I felt like I was having a MILF moment, it was a great day...  until I realized these two young men were most assuredly stoned.

"Joe, her eyes.... her eyes...  Miss..."

And he had just called me "Miss." Bless his little heart.

They were completely stoned and the objects of their collective stoneated fixation were my eyes.  I moved my head from side to side - their gaze followed - apparently I was a living, breathing, blue-eyed tennis match.  I traded a look with the cashier.  She raised her eyebrows.

"Wow," said the first dude.  "What are you doing here?"

"I'm buying underwear."

They both blushed.  I don't know what they were thinking before, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it now involved my nether regions.

"For my daughter.  I'm buying underwear for my daughter."

They looked so confused.  I wanted to pat them on their little heads and tell them it was going to be alright.

As they left, these stoned dudes kept looking back.  I smiled and waved.  They shyly waved back.  It's the little things in life that can make a gal's day brighter.

i DESPISE summer!

WARNING: There is adult language in this post

 

Just shoot me now.  Please.

I know, I know... I know that I'm not supposed to.  After a long winter and meteorologically weird spring, I know that I'm supposed to be SO happy that heat has come to Canada... but for me, summer in Southern Ontario sucks the BIG ONE, BIG TIME.  Summer sucks King Kong's massive dick and the Blob's sweaty balls.  It sucks Godzilla's gigantic gonads and Pulgasari's prodigious prick.  It sucks Crocosaurus's collasal chubby!  It sucks  Mothra's massive meat stick!  Summer SUCKS!!!

Honestly, I would rather have -45 °C with the windchill than a humidex of over 27 °C. You know why?  Because you can dress for the cold.  You cannot dress for the heat.  Once you're naked, short of flaying the skin from your body, you can't get any more naked.  How many times must I powder my inner thighs so that they don't stick together?!?  HOW MANY?!?  'Cause I am not, nor have I ever been a gal who has a 'thigh gap.'  And who are these sick pukes who are hyping the 'thigh gap' as something to achieve?  I want to find those people and drown them in a pool of cellulite.

I have heat rash on top of my heat rash.  You cannot feel sexy when you have heat rash on your ass.  David will kiss me before bed, trying to get my motor running...  I look at him like he has suggested that we roll in barbed wire and then have a salt water bath.

I start sweating IMMEDIATELY after getting out of the shower.  I have to dry off AFTER drying off... Several times.  Humidity is an oppressive bitch!

I have fantasies about snowstorms or a cold snap in the fall - that is what I want.  It has only been 3 days of hot so far this summer.  I'm doomed.  No wait!  If I hide in the basement and we use only the BBQ to cook, and I exist on Diazepam I might be able to survive.  I might make it through to September.  Or.... OR... I could just spend the entire summer at the movies.  Now there's a way to problem solve.  I wonder if I could sneak in a sleeping bag.  Wish me luck.

Pocket-Sized Bombshell

My friend is a bombshell.  When I'm with her, it's like hanging out with Marilyn Monroe.   A shorter, more shapely Marilyn Monroe.  She is the flame to every male moth within her orbit.  Has been ever since high school.  Most definitely she is gorgeous, that's part of it, but she has something MORE.  Something intangible.  I don't know if it is her pheromones or her complete disdain for the males of our species in general, but every time I'm with her I feel I need to document the experience for a psychology journal.  It's something to see.

Marilyn Monroe photographed by Milton Greene

 Picture, if you will... We sit at a table, minding our own business.  Almost immediately, any straight male within arms' length puts his shoulders back, sits up straighter, sucks in his gut.  They start talking a little louder so that they can maybe get her attention.  Then other dudes at tables a little bit further away and those sitting at the bar fall into her wake.   I'm not saying that she's a landlocked Charybdis, but it is kind of like watching a whirlpool or black hole suck things into it.  And she's just sitting there...  Not noticing the men salivating at her.

Honestly? I think that it really is because she could care less.  She has no interest in those guys and that, well that added to her ridiculous sexpot, bombshell beauty is what does it.  I could be naked doing the Charleston and I swear to God not one man would notice me. And I'm a redhead with D-cups.  She could totally do mass-hypnosis with this power.  If I could figure out a way we could make money off this super power - I could be her agent and we'd be rich!  Until then, I will just watch and document - it must be worthy of a phenomenon being named after it at the very least.

This is your "Go-To"?

WARNING - This post is about sex. 

We took a workshop at an 'adult' club in 'sensual sensory deprivation.'  Welcome to marriage after the first decade.  When David mentioned it, I immediately imagined a water tank in the dark in complete silence, basically like being trapped alive in a box, pretty much my ultimate nightmare, but with the added horrifying element of being in the water.  But I was willing to give it a whirl.  What the hell, right?

It turns out 'sensual sensory deprivation?' Was blindfolding.  Okay, so David and I have been married for almost 15 years.  I'm pretty sure that we tried blindfolding each other the 3rd weekend we spent together.  And yet, when the instructor, Mistress... Suitably Clever/Slightly Scary name asked who had experimented with blindfolding, in this room of 20 couples,  maybe 4 sets of hands went up.  I was baffled.  I mean really, truth be told, we were at what was pretty much a swingers' club.  Couples were mostly there to hook up with each other.  David and I?  Were there for the workshop.  And to swim naked in a heated pool.  I mean, why not?  We were there already and had 1/2 an hour to kill before the workshop.   Sure, I'd accepted a shot of single malt scotch from another couple, but I was really doing that just being polite.

So when only 4 couples sheepishly admitted to having blindfolded each other - it struck me as odd.  These couples went to a swingers' club to hook up with other couples before they tried blindfolding.  Sex with strangers before blindfolding.  And blindfolding, if we're being honest, is really the most benign of sexual kinks.  I know, because I know stuff.  I have read A LOT...  REALLY. A. LOT.  I knew about stuff long before there were 50 Shades of Grey.  But here I was feeling like part of the most worldly couple in the room because, not only had we done blindfolding, but we'd done sensual massage  (isn't that really just lead up to sex anyway?), and found interesting uses for silk scarves.  I know. I know.  Too much information... but I just thought it was weird.  Don't you think it was weird?  I always figured that marriage was about a couple figuring out together ways to spice things up - you know as a couple.   No third, fourth or fifth parties, no barn animals.   You pick up one of those books that suggests newfangled sexual positions, you blindfold each other, buy some edible underwear and you're good to go.  Right?  Am I too old-fashioned?

My boobs aren't supposed to be there.

So you know when you lie on your back in bed and your boobs nearly rest in your armpits?  What is that?   Remember when you were in your 20s and the girls were pert and perky and in their place?  It's not like they're National Geographic boobs now, but as I approach 45, they do have an udder-like quality to them that they didn't once have.

I mean, sure, David's not complaining, but then dudes don't seem to mind what kind of shape the boobs are in... as long as they're boobs, you know?

When I'm lying in bed, if I tilt to my left a bit, the right one is gorgeous - it faces the ceiling perfectly, but then the left one is actually IN my armpit.  If I move too far to the left, it's like a scene from Titanic where EVERYTHING starts to slide.  Sometimes it's fun just to flop back and forth to see what happens.  If you do it in water, you can almost create your own jacuzzi. Really, this as a perk.  I should market it.

You know what would be even better?  Prehensile breasts.  Breasts that could move on their own!  No woman would need a bra because the breasts would self-adjust to the perfect level!!!  There must be scientists out there working on this!  I'm afraid to google it though - there'd be some crazy-ass shit coming up in the search results.

Touch her and die...

I am now the mother of a teenaged daughter.  How the hell did that happen?  One day she was 3 and now she's 13.  Rissa is now 13.  Except she looks like she's 17.  She draws the male eye.  And not just the eye of her peers, but the eye of dudes who are a good 5-10 years older than her; dudes who excel at leering.

I remember what it was like being a girl of her age, with a cute little figure and watching as the boys ran into things because they were looking at my ass instead of where they were walking.   When it was happening to me - I thought it was hilarious.  "Look at those dumb boys!  That guy ran into a light post!"  Now it's happening to her and it's freaking me out.

As a direct result of my freaking out, I'm starting to freak her out.  But I'm trying to be cool and hip about it.

"We'll have a code," I say.

"What kind of code?"

"Put down the machete."

"Huh?"

" 'Put down the machete' will be code for anything stupid that shouldn't be happening.  Like when a guy tries to touch your boobs, you say 'Put down the machete.' ''

Rissa looks at me like I'm nuts.

"Anything drug-related could be 'Stop smoking the baby.'  Like if some stoned dude offers you and your friends anything to do with drugs, you say... " I pause, eyebrows raised, waiting for her to fill in the blanks.

"Stop smoking the baby?"

"Exactly."

"O.....kay."

"Guy tries to cop a feel?" I quiz.

"Put down the machete."

"You get offered drugs?"

"Stop smoking the baby."

"Perfect!  Plus it just makes you sound crazy, and most folks don't want to mess with crazy people."

Me grabbing the testicles of any dude who tries to feel Rissa up.