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Posts Tagged ‘brazilian wax’

Can I just start this post by saying, NO, I most certainly did NOT get fucked last night. SIGH. Future Lawyer is a sweet, romantic Rilke loving, red rose buying, back massage giving ivy league preppy. It’s so cute and if his lips weren’t so good, it would be too cloying for me. Generally, I would be frowning upon such behavior, as it has always felt so trite and contrived, however Future Lawyer is genuinely that guy. The Rilke on his bookcase is well-worn, not placed there just to impress the ladies. He has cried during more episodes of NPR’s This American Life for god’s sake than I have watched romantic comedies.

He met my dog and I at the train station and we quickly walked over to Starbucks for something hot to keep the bitter cold at bay for the walk back to the dorms. Coffee in hands, we  wandered through the maze of university buildings until we reached his Hall. As we walked in, he gave me flowers. My first internal reaction was that of mild discomfort. I have never liked to be given roses by anyone because they always seemed so formulaic and pedestrian. (Pedestrian is a word my ex fiancé used. I actually find it to be one of the most insulting words. She once said how much she hated that our problems were so pedestrian. What did she want? Some epic dilemma and great struggle?) I took a breath, shut down my inner dialogue and looked at him and how sweet, kind, AND sincere he was and then kicked my inner dialogue in the shin and put it in time out for the night. He hung my coat, poured me some wine and showed me around his suite, which was roughly the size of a small NYC one bedroom, minus a kitchen. We then picked out Slumdog Millionaire, since neither of us had seen it, and curled up on the couch in the dark. Occasional kisses were had. Wine was drunk, Michel Cluizel Grand Noir 85% chocolate was consumed and the dog was walked far enough to find my Future Lawyer a slice of pizza at midnight.

When we walked back into the suite, he disappeared for a moment to use mouth wash after the pizza. I really didn’t mind. I like spicy pepperoni. I laughed at him and wiped the wet bit off his lip. His embarrassment quickly departed as I started to kiss him. Remember, we were kicked out of a mall last week for making out. He may be schmaltzy, preppy and shorter than what I have gone for BUT he has a set of lips on him that just don’t quit. We kissed for a few minutes but then were distracted by the undergrads screaming outside his door. Music was a necessity, and somehow Mahler ended up being chosen.  As the music intensified, so did our kissing and eventually he backed me into his bedroom and locked my dog out with the door. She was horrified as she isn’t used to being separated from me by a closed-door. The lights went down and the next 45 minutes ranked up there as one of the hottest make out sessions in my history. Thank you Mahler. Eventually the composition changed however and it started to ruin the groove. I gave him the link to my online Trip Hop Playlist and ran into the living room to grab a hair-clip.

I patted my sad puppy on the head, dug in my purse and grabbed a hair clip. Prior to coming over I had tried to wax my legs a bit, so they wouldn’t be so bad on the likely chance that we ended up in contorted naked positions. I couldn’t do anything about the Brazilian. Those are NOT DIY jobs. I also bought a box of condoms, just in case. I know that most men purchase grocery store or drug store condoms, so I stopped by the sex shop and bought some Kimono Micro Thin japanese ones. When they make thin condoms, why do men go for regular? It’s better to be prepared and it isn’t the mans responsibility to worry about my sexual health and wish to stay childless, so I tossed one in my jeans pocket as I head back into the bedroom, hair pulled up for better long-haired girl on top make out action.

Back in the bedroom we find our groove again with the help of Morcheeba. Now, my pants come off, as do his and then he says it, after I am so turned on that I can’t see straight. He tells me that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for us to have sex tonight. He wants to wait a little longer. AAACK! I am wearing one article of clothing, sprawled out with mussed up hair, looking at him in shock and disbelief through sexually charged eyes and thinking he might be kidding. He might start laughing at any moment and just take me. But he doesn’t, and I whimper, and we continue to make out for a while but some of the sheen is gone.

I stayed the night and I slept like I do at home, nude. If you want to wake up to a naked woman whom you have called gorgeous several times over the last 12 hours and feel tempted, that’s your fault buddy. Within an hour of waking up, we were out the door and parting ways at the train. I made a quick detour and grabbed an americano for the ride.

On the train ride home I was incredibly, ridiculously, crazy horny. I texted my Internet Sex man from NYC and made a fleeting playful remark about how horny I was and  why wasn’t he local? Surprisingly, I received a message back within moments. Apparently he found the timing of my message fitting as he had just been thinking of me. He checked Skype and I wasn’t there and assumed that he would be having a solo session. I laughed when the next text message was a photo of his erection. He has the perfect match of voyeur and exhibitionist traits to my own and along with my Pac NW man, they are my sexually deviant saviors on this journey. When I am not getting laid locally, I can sign into Skype and get some virtual action with a non stranger. It’s a wonderful set up that ends in my napping happily and a bit less frustrated than I had a few hours earlier. Sweet live kisses and hot internet sex. The world was a beautiful place today.

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An IM buddy of mine told me tonight that I am a trifecta. I laughed and asked what he meant. He replied that it was because I have a tendency to make men nervous, hungry and horny. He said that it wasn’t just my ability to create such reactions in men, but my ability to create them simultaneously. Quite often he leaves our chats feeling a strange combination of all three I was informed. Should I be tickled by this information? It is one of the most amusing compliments I have received in a while. However, considering that he is 26, getting looked at by an attractive woman is potentially enough to send him into a tizzy. BUT, the fact that I can make a 6 course gourmet meal while scantily clad and maintaining an intelligent politically tinged conversation makes me a little different from most of the women he meets. 

Tomorrow… potential overnight date with Future Lawyer. We want to do a low-key dinner and movie at his place (also known as the dorm, ahem, cough, ha ha ha. I have NEVER made out at a dorm!) and there are several obstacles. Parking is non-existent, public transportation ends early, and taxi’s hate coming to my neighborhood. He then spoke up and said that he had assumed I might stay over and hoped it wasn’t being too presumptuous. I then mentioned that my dog cannot be left alone for that long at which point he told me to bring her! Can he have a dog in his room? Even as a Resident Advisor? I am feeling a bit insecure about this though. It isn’t about him or how attracted I am to him. It’s about the fact that my next waxing appointment isn’t until the 10th! This means I have far more body hair below the waist than I normally like. I also ate far too much macaroni and cheese tonight so I am currently feeling far more like a pudgy Sasquatch than a sexy brazilian waxed trifecta. Sigh.

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I have a touch of the uck today. A low-grade fever, stomach that is ever so slightly off, and a general feeling of malaise. Not pleased. I have postponed my date with the young Straight Edge Artist for tomorrow evening, we were going to meet at a contemporary art museum in the evening, because I want to lay in bed and feel healthy for my date with Future Lawyer on Friday night. It isn’t a hot date where we hit the town. I suggested a low-key evening in at his place, some Pho, some Netflix and a solid chance of making out. I asked myself whether I would sleep with him, IF I were getting waxed this week. Potentially, yes. However, it’s only been a week that we’ve really known each other. But, I think I have decided that it is okay to be casually sexual with a couple people at once as long as A) safe sex, and B) no one thinks that sex makes you exclusive. My blueberry soda loving childhood fireman, the Musician/Artist/Assoc Prod is back in town this weekend and we have plans next week to check out a great Italian foreign film and grab a cocktail. I kissed him on a street corner. I want to see if there is a potential for more chemistry there, or if it was a just momentary ambush of lips over judgement. So, these are the things I am mulling about in my feverish mind.

I was looking through some of my old writing tonight as I down my Odwalla C Monster. I came across something from 2008 that I had written after awaking one morning from dreams about the man I had loved so intensely in my early 20’s.

Strange dreams

I woke this morning from a dream that haunted my entire day. I am 34…nearly. I have dated women exclusively for a decade. Prior to that I knew I was attracted to women from the time I was 17. However, I hadn’t realized my ho-hum YAWN feelings towards the men I dated or had…what some elders might refer to as …”relations” with meant that I was gay. It never crossed my mind. Until it did. 
 
Funny that I dream of him. I am gay. To some of you, many of you, you may not understand how a woman can say she is gay but admit relations and a past love for a man. It is simple, you have your preference or leanings and then, if you believe in eastern philosophies at all, well then… it opens the world to confusion. As an eastern follower and someone who believes in reincarnation… how can I say that a soul partner will only come back as a man or a woman or a human for that matter. Now when I say that, a soul partner does not mean a lover per se. We can be blessed in our lives with connections that are unexplainable and wonderous …. we just feel in our bones that these individuals, whether human or animal, have been intertwined with us before. The love I had for that man from a decade ago does still haunt me. I have a photo of him which I shot on one of the first nights we truly saw each other. Perhaps it was even that first night. He said it was the only photo that ever really captured him. When I look at it now it feels as if he looks right into me. Still.
 
I do not dream. At least, I never remember any of my dreams. A handful in 34 years. That is all. I remember one from when I was 14, one from the weeks after my dog passed several years ago, and this one. This dream was about him. The him that sprung into my life, like an odd flat note in a song. At first it seems out-of-place and just wrong… then you keep listening and your ear realizes that the flat note is the unique piece that makes the song.

3 months… secrecy. No one knew. Okay, 4 or 5 people knew. The rest we hid it from because we worked together and didn’t want the drama. We didn’t like each other when we met. I found him twitchy, pale, arrogant in a way that was pedestrian. He thought I was “just a bird”. See, that is what I mean. What white american midwestern male uses the term “bird” as if he’s a self righteous Brit? We dealt with each other. Humored each other’s diatribes until one day when someone mentioned that I followed eastern philosophies as well, that I was Hindu, and with that, he looked as if he had just discovered something new on a road he always traveled, and he mentioned that he was Buddhist. We raised eyebrows at the other and from then on, we began to listen to each other. One night we had a movie and take out night at his apartment… three of us from work. The one with the crush on me grew tired and decided to sleep on the couch. How polite to leave me with the floor. At this point Mr Twitchy and I were finding common ground but still nowhere close to great pals. He was polite enough to offer space in his bed, with no intentions. Seriously, there were no intentions and it was a California King. A HUGE BED. We slept and in the early morning hours we suddenly awoke at the same time, facing each other, our eyes locked. I felt infinite. I knew then that he and I had a connection older than us. We continued to stare at each other until eventually it became an embrace. 3 months.

3 months and then he met a woman in a bar, she pursued him relentlessly and he dumped me unapologetically in a note on my door, days after my birthday. I remember knowing deep down but laying in bed alone and praying for him to “just please not marry her”. Yes, they married. I think they are still married. I am not sure. I moved from that place the following year and while he is in my thoughts, I have not seen him since I left that town.

I have had a fair share of disillusionment, monotony, indifference and settling in my life when it comes to romantic and/or sexual relationships. A few times I have been left feeling like the wind has been knocked out of me. This man came in and out of my life so swiftly and briefly, yet he imbedded himself deep within me. I think about him often, even now. I know that our relationship was not meant to be one of permanence. It was Woody Allen, The Pogues, Bushmills and stouts. Existential dilemmas, dissatisfaction, late night converging on a mutual cynicism and dissatisfaction with the world. For three months though, we loved each other madly and it was us, secretly tucked away from the rest of the world. 

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How did I NOT freeze my bits off? Was it because they were numb from the pain of hot wax and the yanking of hair? Today was the coldest day of the winter thus far, not the type of day I like to be out walking around while running errands. Ending it by stripping down and being humiliated by hot wax and gloved hands as my waxer begs me to bring in the hottie for her to meet, isn’t exactly a highlight either. Just how am I supposed to do that? Hey McHottie, while I was getting the hair yanked off my girly bits, I happened to mention to my waxer that you are one of the most beautiful men I have ever known and now she wants to meet you? Probably NOT going to happen.

I spoke with him earlier today, via text, the Peruvian I mean. I was in his neighborhood and we chatted about beverages but his schedule was too insane. I told him that he needed to check his mail, as I sent him something that should have arrived.

Just incase you all aren’t fully on the same page, today’s wax was a wishful wax for a Thursday night of feistiness. Are we all still meditating on this for me? I need all the good positive energy you can direct towards me and this cause.

Before my wax I met up with the Asian man (with two dogs) at a local cafe. His energy was a little erratic and brisk. I had been sitting by a window working on my business plan revamp when he arrived and approached me.  When picking up his mocha from the barista station he grasped it to hard and caused the cup to cave in on itself in such a way that it splashed out onto the counter and some of the packaged snack bars beside him. I grabbed a handful of napkins and handed them to him, making an assumption that he would proceed to clean up some of the mess he made. When I saw that he was focused on wiping off his cup only and had begun to walk away from the mess, leaving it for the workers to clean, I grabbed some towels and proceeded to clean it up myself. He did not say thank you. We talked about our dogs, the various medical conditions and treatments that they have all been through, and my business.  The rest of our conversation fades into the abyss. He isn’t remarkable, doesn’t look like his photos and has very little engaging personality. He lacked warmth and on a cold day, I was looking for warmth, not Mr. Frigidaire. Needless to say, there will not be a second date.

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What a long day! I did a bit of work early in the day and then had a coffee date with the Aussie Vegan. Cute but young, with a great accent. We talked for a long time about our individual businesses and how our personal ethos work within our businesses and the world outside. Spark? Nope. However, he is definitely someone I would like to hang out with as friends in the future. Bright kid and I think he has an amazing future ahead of him. We drank coffee for a couple hours and then I walked him to the train station and met up with my artist friend who works around the corner.

I found out tonight that my friend’s coworkers call me his stalker. Amusing, since the last 2 years that I have been coming in, I have been a flag waving lesbian. His colleagues find it funny that I come in and we talk for hours on end. It must be something insidious, right? I did consider him an option, for a moment, in the fall though. Right after I had started thinking about men, prior to my crush and subsequent exploratory trip to the Pac NW, I sent him a Facebook message that somehow never made its way to him. I was asking him out for a drink, which he claims, all men consider a clear and definitive “get busy” kind of signal. I had no idea that all I had to say was, “Hey, wanna have a drink?” and that it could be so powerful. unfortunately, or fortunately, the message never went through and our friendship has stayed happily un-awkward. Besides, if I had been blurring up the picture he would not have met this gorgeous complete package that he fell, “arse over tit” for a few weeks ago. He beams when he talks about her. It’s a beautiful sight! I am so very happy for him. I would have just used him for cheap experimentation and it would have been weird afterward. Instead, now we can have a great friendship in which we have alcoholic beverages and discuss our various antics, and then he can read this blog and laugh heartily, while breathing a sigh of relief.

Speaking of being arse over tit, he is killing me! Does the hottie Peruvian NEVER check his mail? Come on man, New Year’s is now mere days away. I am getting hot hard wax put on places of my body tomorrow that should rationally NEVER see hot hard wax… and then having it pulled off. Mostly for me, because I hate body hair, BUT I could go longer, I do not need to do it now, UNLESS I can spend New Years wrapped around him like a ribbon. Hot girl, heels, brazilian,WILLING … what more do you need man?!!!

Can we all do a collective silent meditative chant this morning asking McHottie Peruvian to check his mail and open the pretty envelope, read the pretty invite and respond to the hot girl who pasted that invite with her own little fingers? Thank you everyone.

This afternoon finds another coffee date after a client meeting, the dog owning Asian gentleman, and then my wax. McHottie’s house is 5 minutes from my waxing appointment. Sigh.

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I wasn’t sure how I was feeling about the coming week. I had made a hair and a waxing appointment in hopes that I would hear from the hottie, but I had no dates in sight. Then, suddenly in the matter of a few hours I have 4 with the potential for another. All afternoon dates, which I find easier because you can escape them if they are going poorly. The Aussie vegan anarchist, an ex reformed Jew with mussed up hair, a dog loving asian gentleman and someone training for a marathon. The 4th potential is the Jewish Dad. I am not actively seeking Jewish men, I just happen to find them adorable and then find out they are Jewish. Is there something wrong with that? On top of all of this, I check my email to find that the hottie Peruvian is no longer possible McDouche, because he emailed to say Hello. Yay. I might just have a New Year’s Eve reason for that wax after all!

I did get my daily astrology.com love tarot and again it was that damn King of Pentacles. I get it, I do. So, present me universe with one thing that is viable and perhaps this blog will change its focus from dating many to dating one. However, until you provide a man who can handle me and be handled by me or a clear path back to women, stop taunting me with the King of Pentacles.

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Last night I went out for date number 3 with the Urban Farmer or “Produce Giver”. We saw a movie, it was “Fantastic” , but alas…. the movie was the most exciting aspect of this entire evening. Now, there comes a time, social awkwardness or not, that you make a move. IF you are at all interested in a girl, you make a move towards some sort of physical show of appreciation, desire, interest … or even showing signs of LIFE. He’s clever, attractive and interesting but his girl skills are bordering on Charlie Brown meets Stan from South Park. I don’t know if he has an upset stomach or if he’s gonna throw up on me. THIS is without him even seeing me in 4 inch heels, slinky dresses and sporting a brazilian wax. If I intimidate him and make him nervous now, there is no telling what type of serious mental trauma would occur if he were to ever touch me.  At this stage in the game, I must throw the towel and call this one done. 3 dates and you are out. NEXT.  

Meanwhile, the hits keep rolling in. Let’s review the what not to do’s in online matchmaking, shall we?

  1. If you don’t want to appear like a shallow douchebag with an ego and nothing to back it up, do NOT show any photos of you without a shirt, whether they be through your web cam or banked out of the bathroom mirror. It’s gross, you are gross and eww. if you have one photo of you on the beach with pals, OKAY, but no main photos and nothing “sexy”.
  2. DON’T send me an email with the phrases: “Hey Sexy”, “Let’s do this”, “So, I didn’t read your profile, but damn you are hot and I want to get to know you cause it seems we have a lot in common” (like thinking you are a douchebag?), “Hi cutie, I bets I can put a smile on that cute face of yurs”.   Yes, I did just throw up in my mouth a little because that man looked like a mix of back woods Deliverance and coonhound Best in Show.
  3. I am SO glad you love sports. That’s great. Oh really, and your interests are… oh, sex, sports, and oh sex and sports…. next.
  4. Don’t invite me to your house yet, if I suggest coffee (I am a cheap first date), that means public place that is well-lit and surrounded by other people… not your house, which is creepy. IF I decide to bring you coffee and make out with you later, let it be my prerogative.
  5. No, really, my age range of low-mid 30’s to low 40’s is JUST a suggestion. Sure, all you 23, 27, and 51 year olds, please contact me because apparently I do not really know what I want.
  6. Also, if I say slender, average or athletic/toned, this doesn’t mean fatties. Sorry, but it’s my thing. I am a size-ist. I admit it. Years of being fat cultivated a healthy dose of body dysmorphia and I can’t get past my issues with weight enough to date someone more than a little out of shape. This makes me less than a perfect person, I know.
  7. Bringing me to my final point. I am not perfect. I am attractive, witty, clever, sexy, naughty, shy, angry, sweet, endearing, exhausting and so far from perfect. I over think and get insecure sometimes. I take bad advice. I am a horrible house keeper who can’t implement the great design ideas she has, so many people have never stepped foot in my house because it is perpetually in chaos. Don’t be awestruck, or intimidated. I will let you down.

I sent the Peruvian, GD, otherwise known as potentially McDouchey, a handmade invite to hang with me on New Years Eve. There was glue, ribbon, stickers, 3 different colors of cardstock, Photoshop AND InDesign work, and two stamps. He should receive it Saturday. I hope. Will he say yes. I hope. Am I foolish, quite possibly. But damn,the idea of that type of foolishness sure sounds like naughty, naughty  fun.

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