December 11, 2011

I Was BORN To Cohab.

The Dude got out of the shower this morning, and I had brought his hoodie, hat, and toiletry bag up from downstairs and laid them out on the bed for him.

Winning since 1989.

…the only time is sucks is late at night, when I’m torn between staying up and writing or being one of those people who always go to bed together. Both are important to me, and a consensus on which will win out has yet to be reached.


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December 13, 2011

"You realize that there’s green sprinkled all over the Tibetan Book of the Dead? That’s like sprinkling it all over The Bible."

When a Catholic boy from Lawng Islahd and a hippie girl from Vermont attract.


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December 14, 2011

Wifey Status:

(WI-fee stat-us) Adjective. Definition: A young, unmarried female who wakes up at 6 AM with her partner so she can cook him a breakfast of eggs and bacon, help him pack for work, and provides him with a snack, tissues, and cold medications so that he can feel better, all while being told she doesn’t need to do any of this and should go back to bed. She does it all anyway, because she likes to. Anthropological Note: The term “wifey status”, used most often in Ebonics slang, derives from the fact that the person the term is being used to describe would make an excellent wife for a man.


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I had the first kiss of my life this morning where time literally stood still.

Literally. stood. still.

Disney, eat yer heart out.


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December 16, 2011

The Dude dropped the GF bomb on me the other night while out at dinner with my parents.

I nearly choked on my spicy tuna roll.


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The Dude may or may not have just gotten out of a stint of being hosted at our fine state’s correctional facility, and I may or may not communicate with him by leaving love notes and Honey-Do lists on the back of the Monopoly “get out of jail free” and “go straight to jail; do not pass go, do not collect $200” game cards. 

Sometimes I can be really, really clever, and really, really witty and sweet at the same time.

…It’s also a good thing he also shares the same sense of humor with me.


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December 19, 2011

Why Hard-Ass Men With Soft Sides Rock My World:

1.) You know how when you’re sleeping with someone, if they roll over or make a dramatic shift during the night, you kind of wake up halfway, just because the bed moves or you have to stop leaning against them or something? While The Dude was living with me, one night, he and his restless leg syndrome decided to move from the edge of the bed to the middle, pulling me up into semi-consciousness, and just before I drifted back off to sleep, I felt him press a kiss to my forehead. I think I managed to think, “Adorable,” right before I fell back to sleep and dreams about working with Steve Carell at McDonald’s.

2.) One of my lovely coworkers so kindly passed on a killer cold to me about three weeks ago, which I’m finally getting over, albeit with a nose that still runs like a faucet. Sharing the love, I passed it on to my mom and The Dude, who now both look and sound like utter shit. Today he met me at the mall during my break so we could run some errands and grab a bite to eat (me) and some cigarettes (him) together. After he walked me back to the store and we were saying goodbye, he looked down at me and said, “I’d really like to kiss you goodbye, but I don’t want to keep swapping this cold back and forth,” and then leaned down, kissed my cheek, and nuzzled me.

Died. Right there. Right in front of all my coworkers with a stupid grin on my face. The teasing I endured for the next two hours was totally worth it, though.


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December 20, 2011

You know that feeling that you get in your stomach, that little hitch and then drop— the one that feels like you left it somewhere fifty or so feet behind you— that you get every time you kiss someone you just started seeing?


There was this moment today that by all rights and purposes should have been awkward when he leaned over across the car’s center console, and I thought he was going in for a kiss on the cheek, like yesterday, but then at the very last second caught his glance down at my lips, realized where his were going to land, and managed to turn the hand that had previously been destined to go over his back for a hug to sweetly cup his face and…

Butterflies. Clouds and clouds and thousands of butterflies.


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I just got a text from this guy who was present for The Dude’s and my second date that said, “I know that you’re dating (The Dude) but I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me sometime?”

…really. Really? I think you have your answer all ready right there, sir.

I mean, I definitely commended him for his bravery and initiative going out on that limb and was kind about turning him down, but from a girl’s perspective, that’s a pretty shifty thing to do. That’s like saying, “Hey, I think your judgement in men sucks and that I’m a far better candidate for you than the person you like and have chosen for yourself!”

It COULD theoretically work, if you happened to be the Best Man on Earth or Ryan Gosling, but when you’re a random dude from the bar…not so much. I’ll pass, thanks.

Especially considering the fact that I compared you and The Dude to Steve Carell and Mark Wahlberg in “Date Night,” and The Dude was most definitely Marky Mark.


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December 22, 2011

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things:

The long, gentle, and blossomingly possessive sweep of a man’s hand down your back, over your body, across your curves that so sweetly is the first unspoken profession of wanting to know and share an understanding and ownership of your form with you, at least if only partially at first. 

Rise up under his touch to meet him; press against him in acknowledgement.


I got a totally unasked-for back massage last night, and this was what resulted. If I’m ever hired on as a contributing authors, impromptu massages obviously have to happen more often. Or, in my mother’s words of explaining The Dude to people who haven’t yet had the distinct experience of meeting him, “He has the BIGGEST hands!”

…Truth. One of his hands > my lower back.


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I found myself at one of my favorite greasy spoon diner-dives this morning, sitting across the Formica table from The Dude on a puffy booth cushion, looking from him to a plate full of messy, messy wings and back to him again.

He was making a massive hangover look fashionable. I had wing sauce smeared across my cheek, which he so kindly pointed out to me.

They were some of the best wings I’d ever had, but after the third eaten painfully slowly by picking them apart piece by slowly excruciating piece, I put down the wing bone, and was forced to admit the defeat that they may not exactly be just-out-of-the-first-month-of-a-relationship food.

Later, in the privacy of the dingy back employee break room, I did nasty, nasty things to those wings and bleu-cheese dip the likes of which my coworkers looked horrified to stumble in upon and find, me gnawing on a bone, sauce and white dip up to my eyeballs and a slightly feral glint in my eye. It was like the ultimate torture for a closet fat kid in a size 4 dress that’s cut up to my clavicle, knowing they were back there, so close, so tortuously waited for.

For the first time in my life, I chose demureness and a man over my food. Oh shit. Baby’s growing up.


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Girl Talk: Like Mother, Like Daughter.

  • "Mom, I get goosebumps and the shivers every time he kisses me."
  • "Watch out, girlie. Look where that got me."
  • ---
  • For the assembled record, Mom and Don Daddy will be celebrating their 41st year together this spring. She has always maintained that when Dad kisses her, the room spins. We're a romance-happy family unit, here, with Happy Endings not of the full-service massage parlor type.
  • XOXO

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December 29, 2011

A few thoughts I had last night while laying in the dark, sucking on a candy cane, listening to “Electric Feel” on repeat, and masturbating:

1.) I don’t understand how anyone has a full-time job AND a functional relationship,

2.) Every happily-employed, successful adult I know in my field would probably tell me they had to toil away at first in their youth, too,

3.) I am surprisingly into S&M after I’ve been smoking,

4.) The Dude and I started dating in THE MOST strange way,

5.) Maybe I could pitch it as a sitcom like Raising Hope?,

6.) Oh my god, my horrible dating history could have led me to my career destiny. Hmmm…

7.) …Wow, The Dude’s physicality hits me just like a punch to the gut; it’s like magnets and Christmas trees when we kiss.

8.) Lookit all the pritty stars.

9.) Spaceships are cool.


…Proof that women can multitask while orgasming. And this is why you should say no to drugs, kids, say no to drugs.


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Oh, You Have Massive CZs In Your Ears? You Rock A Fitted? You Say "Buddy" In An Un-Ironic Way? Hello, Boyfriend.

  • The Dude: So I just made an appointment to get my lip re-pierced and I think I want to gauge my ears, too.
  • Me: No.
  • The Dude: No? Why are you telling me "no" like I was asking (actually, he said "axing" but that's besides the point,) you a question? I'm doing it.
  • Me: You know how good it feels when someone nibbles on your earlobes? Well, let me tell you-- the last three guys I've been with all gauged their ears. Guess what immediately stopped happening as soon as their ears started bleeding, because, I don't know-- YOU HAVE NO MORE EARLOBE TO NIBBLE ON. I have had plugs come out in my mouth before. I am not going there again. No.
  • The Dude: Whatever...I want to do it...nothing big or permanent, just like 4s or 2s. I think it'd be cool.
  • 10 Minutes Later---
  • The Dude: ...Maybe I won't gauge my ears.
  • BOOM. Argument won. The ear nibble gets them EVERY. TIME.
  • XOXO

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December 30, 2011

I’ve always had a funny relationship with money inside of partnerships. One of my exes was significantly better off than I was at the time, and it was difficult explaining to him that while I thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated the experience of being taken out for shopping sprees and having everything paid for me, NOT paying for our drinks sometimes and having to trick the cashiers into taking my card and not his offended my sense of self, because while my parents spoiled me more rottenly than 2 month-old milk during my childhood, they also instilled a strong sense of independence and ownership in me. It’s true to some extent that all women are sincerely ga-ga over the guys who have the cash to flaunt and pull out all the stops with it— flowers, expensive dinners out, new clothes, handbags, car maintenance. It’s nice to be pampered. Don’t get me wrong— to a certain extent, I’ll take it all from you with no qualms and lots of flattery and sincere thanks. But I firmly, CONCRETELY believe that when I have the money, I can pay, and when you have the goods, you can. Here’s a good example of the sort of person I am in money matters and relationships: The Dude just got out of a stint in jail when he rocked up in the store one afternoon, laden down with a sleeping bag and a Nike gym bag filled with all his earthly possessions. He was, effectively, homeless. We’d went on one now infamous date before he was pinched that culminated in the state police chauffeuring him away. He had no money, no phone, no car, and no place to stay, having just been turned away from a friend’s house by his girlfriend who didn’t think that three was company. So, just like you would with a particularly winsome stray with a toothy grin, I took him home. I put him up. Fed him. Literally took him shopping and clothed him. Stuck with him while he found a job. Put gas in my car and let him take it. Woke up at 5 AM to cook him breakfast. Catched him and fetched him. Screened his calls. Became his answering service. Made sure he met new people and made nice friends. Vetted his new apartment and gave him his first two weeks’ rent. Got on a first-name basis with his mom. And lawyer. Overdrew my bank account twice for him. Laughed a lot. Got the butterflies often. Why? Because that’s what a good girl does to help someone she really cares about and believes in. Sometimes, it’s easier to say it with money than it is with actions. Sometimes, you’re blessed enough to be able to do both. I was able. So I did. I’m a Giver. So if I can give, let me. Don’t take that away from me. It’s a part of what makes me, me. XOXO

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