Monday, October 28, 2013

Worn Panties?

Attempting to re-enter the dating scene I find myself ungodly bored with all of it.  Sick of viewing pictures of the same stuck up, pretentious men.  Sick of reading the same bullshit lines about wanting a girl who ‘takes care of herself’.  Seriously, why don’t they just say ‘I’m looking for a fucking twig, no one else need apply’.  I’m sickened by the amount of men who stick to this gross idea of beauty.  But it is what it is, and frankly I don’t want a prick that thinks anything less than curvy is gorgeous!

I used to spend hours at the gym every night.  And do you know what I had time for with that lifestyle?  No one!  My life revolved around keeping those two hours set aside for the gym every night.  It’s fun.  But honestly when I live my life with a partner, I want my life to be about myself and my partner together. 

My ex and I used to go to the gym together.  And he’d watch t.v. and laugh.  Hang with his pals and show off.  Really, it was not any bit considered quality time. If anything it made me miss him more because our time was more spent apart in site of each other than together.

So, to all those assholes who feel the need to emphasize a girl’s ability to ‘take care of herself’ on their profile… all they are truly looking for is a girl with a high metabolism.  And all I can think is ‘good fucking luck’ because in the good ole’ U. S. of A. girls with hips are more in abundance.

To add to my boredom on the dating scene I recently ran into the sexiest situation I’ve endured in YEARS!!  Yes, my friends, years!  I posted some panties and a matching bra to sell online.  This stuff was new with tags and had zero sexuality added to the sales pitch.  I just wanted to make a few bucks off of something I will never wear.  Simply.

But I received a message back from someone asking what else I might have available.  I mentioned the numerous other pairs of panties I have, with tags.  They pushed further saying clearly I had some style and the natural curves to fill the panties I was selling, but wondered what used items I had.  Finding this rather curious, I acknowledged and offered some of the soon-to-be-tossed panties I have in the back of my drawer. 

He then admitted his gender… admitted his interest in these newly mentioned items… and the desire not only to purchase them but to have them freshly worn upon purchase.  I was totally skeeved out!  But given my current financial situation I bit the bullet and decided to play along. 

He mentioned a lap dance, getting closer, watching me remove these panties, etc.  Okay, ya’ll know I’m not a damn church choir girl here.  I’ve been naughty.  This shit is just about right up my alley, but I don’t know this dick from Adam.  I don’t know how old he is… what he REALLY wants to do to me… how far he is willing to go, etc. 

My mom points out the obvious… that this is a cop and I’m setting my ass up to get placed in jail.  Dually noted, but seriously, I was just trying to sell a brand new pair of unworn panties, I didn’t ask for any of this shit!! And I’d happily cry entrapment should it come down to it. 

We chat playfully back and forth.  As much as I’m becoming turned on by this entire idea, I’m also confused by his disinterest in texting me.  I’m thinking he has got to be married.  Fair enough, I think, as long as he doesn’t touch me… I can live with myself.  I avoid his every attempt to get closer or see a little more from me.  Following some due diligence.  I set up a safe exchange location.  I tell a coworker where I will be.  I even gave her his phone number should I disappear mid-exchange. I was ready for almost anything.  Except… that!!!

He was fucking gorgeous!  He met me with a glowing smile.  If I wasn’t already in heat from knowing what was going down his eyes added to it.  He was sweet as hell… kind, careful, and sexy.  It was a delicious encounter.  I had already set all the ground rules… he couldn’t touch me, and we absolutely would not be somewhere alone.   I’d all but screwed myself out of this charming encounter.  Damn me!!!

And just as satisfying were his thoughts of me.  How beautiful, smart, sexy, and fun.  Argh.  Damn intelligence, due diligence, and safety!!!  I wanted him, instantly!

We texted… all… day!  He had me… all that he wanted me, he could have me.  But suddenly he was smarter… he knew better and he wasn’t giving in.  He knew I’d fall like a sinker for him.  So I keep wondering… why can’t hot, curve-loving men like this one be on the damn dating sites?  Why do all these sexy 30 year old men think they are too damaged? Fuck that baby, I know damage and it is not anywhere near him. 

Suddenly the standard dating site is ten times more boring.  Blah!!!  Booooo-rrrr-iiinng asshole... they all are compared to Mr. Wants-My-Panties.  And since then he has been stuck in my head.  I just keep wishing I hadn’t been so safe.  I’m also looking further into this worn-panty selling business.  I joined a site.  We shall see how this goes.  Anyone have any advice, on either front?

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

I See... Shit?

You hear these abstract stories about the pretty girl having it easier.  People like her more so she has it easier in life.  I thought this was a fat girl's line.  I thought that was bullshit.  But hey... listen to this fat girl.

Suddenly I'm working beside a runway model (some clear exaggeration should be inferred here) and that line is finding some truth in my eyes.  Suddenly I'm the backseat driver. 

... I'll take care of the paperwork while she works the front lines.  I'll make the coffee so she can hand it out.  I'll crawl under the machine so she can shine from above.

I'm getting sick.  Not that I don't have my own insecurity bullshit to deal with.  But I'm tripping over myself.  I bust my ass for nearly four years... she walks in and in under one year she has them all tickled.  She says... you don't want to look like me, I'm just there to look at. 

Fuck that, I want to shine!  I want to be the prize!  I want the long tan legs that make men stupid and weak.  But the grossest thing to me is that we've submitted to using her.  Send her here, send her there, have her work that event or this one... but be sure to wear your pretty little skirt.  Gag!

I try not to talk about work, but this constant reminder is helping me to break down on a daily basis.  I try not to see all the differences in treatment... but they are screaming in my god damned face!

I'm envious, green, jealous, and I'm making myself sick with it.  If only I felt sick enough to stick a finger down my throat maybe this game of bullshit could be over with.

But maybe it won't ever be... not because I'm fat, short, pale as a ghost, with curls of chaos... but because I'm opinionated, bitchy, passionate, controlling, and overly honest.  I call it like I see it, and as she loves to remind me, you can't do that... we have to treat them like children.  With kids gloves gently caressing their sensibilities. 

I'm too busy stroking my own insecurities.  And this one has me questioning if I want to stay here much longer... because daily I look in the mirror... and I see shit.  Unhappy, unhealthy, negative, gray matter in oblivion.  If I were them... I'd pick her too.

Skip - Repeat - Skip - Repeat - Repeat - Repeat

Feeling my way through the darkness
Guided by a beating heart
I can't tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start
They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes
Well that's fine by me

So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost

I tried carrying the weight of the world
But I only have two hands
I hope I get the chance to travel the world
But I don't have any plans
Wish that I could stay forever this young
Not afraid to close my eyes
Life's a game made for everyone
And love is the prize

So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost

I didn't know I was lost
I didn't know I was lost
I didn't know I was lost
I didn't know I was lost

No need to wake me...

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Looking Back Toward Tomorrow

I look back through old posts.  I hear back to old conversations.  I think back to old feelings.  Its all so similar.  I'm stuck, but I have no one to blame but myself.

I hate what I read, hear, think and see each day anew.  I don't want to be here. But I don't want to be anywhere...

The depression is thick today... yesterday... this week. It's like I'm searching for an answer, to what I don't know.  And my search is endless, relentless.

I want there to be a him. I want it to feel whole. I want someone who wants to be there to remind me when these days come.  And yet, this very thought feels naive and stupid.  We are fooled by fairy tales, movies, hallmark.  Believing everyone finds a happily ever after feels like one of the most self-defeating thoughts I could ever have.

But my world isn't only about a him.  It's about a career I enjoy. It's about an at ease state of mind.  It's about a  consciousness.  It's about a belief in positive self-worth.   I want these things to feel attainable.  Right now, none of them do.

It's crushing me, swallowing me, suffocating me past a point I can stand.

I see no future, no hope, no serenity...

I see my faults , and they're not getting any better.  My bosses love to point them out. Despite all of the good I can and will do, we focus unrelenting on my lack of motivation and initiative. I walk in wanting better of and for myself... but somewhere I drop the ball and never deliver without deadline or demand. I lose myself in anything that will take me. But I still do not feel whole.

The relationship is so played. Over and over the same verse. I make myself sick. I want to force myself to be different. But I'm not. I ask for more, I demand more... it is not delivered.  And again I feel at fault... because I believed, because I trusted, because I wanted it to be true.  Instead it just hurts.

One would hope that the hurt would hurt a little less each time.   But it doesn't. Because each time I am more let down than the last, not only with him but with myself for believing all over again.

So despite reading back, on what should be my past and hoping for change; I fear I'm more-or-less reading forward, just as much, into my future... and the depression thickens.

Monday, February 25, 2013

I Wish I Knew

I feel like I don't know anything anymore. I thought I knew what I was doing. I was so sure... so resolved. But now, I have no idea what is right. I don't know what I want or how I plan to get there. I'm so lost. I've loved him since the day I met him. The kindest, sweetest, most loving and compassionate man. Then the whole world turned on its axis and not only was he no longer that man... he had become mean in many instances and more often than not incapable of compassion. But how do I change what I see when I look at him? He was so beautiful and I find myself incapable of seeing anything else. I still find him so sexy. I still warm at his touch... when he dares to reach for me. He smile melts me. The good I see in him is unscathed. And each time I close my eyes these two separate souls are still coming from the same body. He thinks I hate him. All this ache I feel us not born of hate, it is born of love. I wish to have him whole, happy, open, loving, and compassionate as my soul mate. It all hurts. I don't know that I want to breathe without him. Maybe I am weak... beyond weak. But I don't want to let him go. God I love him so much. I wish I could love him enough to get him to stay open with me. I wish I could love him enough that he'd stop lashing out with hurtful words breaking those that love him most in an easy breath of arrogance. I wish I knew. I wish I had the dedication and resolve enough to love him despite everything. But when the emptiness comes again... I fear I'll break. I wish... I wish I knew what to do. God, someone take away this pain and tell me what to do.

Friday, January 4, 2013


Don't speak... don't part your lips... don't bare words... don't shape the air that escapes.  Do not move your fingers... hit the keys... slide across the board... or share your thoughts as they flow.  Nothing I could say or share would ease this uneasiness.

Each time I start to look through my contacts... someone to talk to, someone to reach out to, someone to share with I feel myself recoil.  There is nothing to say.  There is nothing I could say that wouldn't sound completely assinign, absurd, meaningless, pety, dumb, and pathetic.  So I don't. 

I have built up this wall of friends and family... an aresinal of people who care, who listen, who want to support me.  But I can't stop or shake this feeling that everything I could possibly say is irritating and useless. 

I don't want to talk to anyone.  I'm in hiding.  I'm shut down.  I feel lost.  And even in my loss I don't want to question because I hear myself in my head... and I don't want to hear either.  I feel so empty and so full all at once. 

When I should probably be reaching out most, I find myself hiding from the hands that reach for me.  I don't know what to do or how to fix... anything.  But everything feels wrong... everything about me and around me. I want to run. 

I've felt this way for a couple weeks now.  I don't know whether there is an end.  I just feel empty...