This week has been wonderful. Pey is home with me and in my arms and my Whole30 “cleanse” appears to be helping with my pain by reducing some inflammation. I think I need to face it: I can’t live on bread and cheese and wine. What a travesty. But being able to get out of bed without crying out in pain is worth what feels like a sacrifice.
Yesterday the weather cooled off and as it cooled, my spirits lifted. I cannot stand the oppressive heat here. It suffocates me and I feel flattened, trapped. The first whiff of fall and I am floating along in the street. It makes my fantasies of moving to England spike and I open my OKC location parameters to the entire world.
Love you all.
Panicked that he was late returning to work, Peter got dressed so quickly he left his underwear behind this afternoon. His loss, my gain!
I’ve been quiet around here, I know. Mostly deliberately. Things aren’t going well between me and Elliot, and while I have no regrets and feel like I have grown exponentially, I haven’t wanted to write about it.
I’ve also been having some hot sex with a very old FWB (he’s the guy I met on Tinder in this post). Peter is the cure to my ails, a cookie to dip in my black coffee. He’s sweet, affectionate, giving and thinks I’m the cat’s meow and is absolutely zero maintenance. He’s helped keep me sane since things with Elliot began to unravel.
August has started out with a real bang for me and I’ve let the writing slip to the way side. Always writing posts in my head, though. I wonder how many times I’ve written the words, “I’ll post about it soon/later…”
And this week I remembered to include Sandy’s note. All the hugs to you, Sandy!
Love you guys,
NOT my tits:
It was suggested to me today to consider voluntary prophylactic mastectomy. Lots on the mind.
I need a subway to ride twice a day or a less intense life, some institutionalized structure to my life so I can write. I have SO many posts to write it’s becoming overwhelming. Hopefully I’ll hammer some things out this weekend and next weekend Pey is back with my ex so that will free up a little evening times.
I feel ridiculously good and light this week and I have no idea why. I’ve written more here and even left comments on friends’ blogs (I have lurked for months and months), participated in a couple of memes, and generally been quite filled with optimism about my writing and the blog.
I wish I knew why!
But it doesn’t matter and I’m just taking advantage of it by prepping Boobday a whole day early when I’m not dog tired and when I’m not miserably trying to focus on the task at hand. Yay 2018!
THE LAST BOOBDAY OF 2017!! Should I even bother apologizing for late Boobday posts anymore?? Y’all know how I roll.
Thanks for loving me anyway. My Internet Boyfriend is truly the best one I’ve ever had.
Today has been busy. Work, more work, getting organized. I raced out of the house before I could do the post and then I kind of forgot about it. I’m not even sure it’s worth promising to be better at this in 2018. Accepting myself for who and what I am and all that jazz.
One thing I will be working on the next few days, though, is my submission for the Eroticon anthology. The theme is “truth,” which will be interesting since I have an odd relationship with it. We’ll see what comes out of me under the deadline [which is Tuesday].
There’s a spike in my desire to post and take pics.
I could say it’s entirely due to sending the letter or I could say a month of working out, being sober, eating right, working hard, and some really nice sex with a really nice man have also contributed.
I’m on Day 12 of the Whole30 and I’m almost past the headaches. It’s funny how for weeks (possibly months) now I’ve been reliant on wine to wind down after a long, stressful day. I don’t even think about it now. I just chill and have some nice peach iced tea. The mornings are infinitely more pleasant without the vestiges of alcohol to muddy my start, too.
I’m sore constantly thanks to Orange Theory. Like, so sore I can barely sit on the toilet or walk up stairs. I remember when I was an athlete in high school and the first couple of weeks of swimming were pretty brutal. But we all got back into the swing of things eventually and that’s what I’m waiting for now. I may be 41, but my heart is still in the game.
I had yet another horrible first date with a handsy, creepy Frenchman (I’ll post about that soon) but also some really great sex with a new guy who’s so nice it hurts, but whose overall aesthetic isn’t really my style. I’m focusing on all the orgasms I had, though, and not all the hair that was in my face.
I’ve written a draft email for The Neighbor. It’s not finished yet. I’m still thinking and feeling it out. A reader left an incredible, heartfelt comment this morning with a nothing short of mind-blowing quote by Mary Oliver: “Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”
I’ve started a Whole30 again andOrange Theory Fitness, helped Peyton do some really fun school things, worked my ass off at work, cooked dinner, done all the dishes, fed all the animals, made my bed, cleaned the house, went shopping, ran errands, made calls, not had a drop of alcohol, wrote a post about emailing the man who broke my heart, planned two back-to-back international trips — which are happening due solely to my friend and family’s graciousness and generosity — and even remembered to do Boobday on time. I’m proud of myself and it’s only Thursday.
This week we have only one woman who is participating, but it’s a haunting, beautiful image from Miss S. I’m sure you’ll love it like I do.
Thanks again to everyone. I hope you feel my love.
It was between blogs – my old old one and this one. I shuttered it because I felt stifled and like it didn’t fit me anymore, but the urge to write didn’t disappear. I don’t feel that differently about this space now, but the difference is I’m not going to jump the gun and quit because I know I’ll be back… I’m just wondering when.