Gay sex scandal brings couple closer together

  It's been a weird couple of days, to say the least. It all started with an email saying "your man is getting some...beef, on the side." My very first thought was my written response back "I don't think you know who I'm dating." I got the uncomfortable response of "Russian, handsome 6'2"ish medium coarse brown hair. Wise beyond his years. Packing. Sound familiar?" Shit. I was seriously worried. I've been lied to very successfully by men before and was terrified. I had that horrible sinking feeling in my stomach. I immediately text my guy asking what is going on. Of course, he was clueless. Still, I believed more in my guy than this stranger, so I wrote back "This is all public information. Anyone can find this out". The mystery writer responded with "Public information out there? yeah, duh! Which is why i thought talking about his slightly callous yet gentle touch would be more indicative...I mean names and shit are all over it's the 8" thick that I've discovered." This is when I freaked. My guy has calloused hands and a gentle touch. Fuck. Then, the kicker. A photo arrived. A graphic photo. Some guy's ass getting reamed. And the butt kind of looked like my boyfriend's. This is when we got into an uncomfortable back and forth via text and messaging. Things like "I want to believe you but this ass looks like yours" and "Babe, I could maybe understand if they were implying a woman, but a man?!" It was not the discussion you EVER want to have with your loved one. Naturally, he defended himself. First, with humor. Then, with slight anger. I kept getting more and more paranoid. It finally got to the point where I said I would have to compare his actual ass/back with the picture. He agreed.
  We planned to meet that day at a coffee shop. I was at the street corner and saw him across the street. All of my anxiety and anger dissolved. Seeing that handsome face that was there to prove himself to me made me the happiest woman. I ran into his long arms. Frankly, I didn't care if some guy had pegged him, I loved him. Maybe he had an experimental phase. Maybe he did it for money. I was going to examine his body, plead with him for the truth and get to the bottom of it.
  After a quick examination of his ass and back, I concluded that it wasn't him in the picture. For one, the guy in the picture was very pale. My guy is tan year round. Especially now. He's almost another race at this point, he's so dark. There's also the marks on his back from when he fell off a skateboard and scabbed up his back. These were absent from the picture. He has a birthmark on his right cheek, the picture didn't. The asshole was hair free, my guy's was thick with pubic forestation. The guy in the picture had some back fat. My guy is skinny as a rail. Seriously, I marvel at his body. He could be a male model. I get a lady boner looking at his flat, tan stomach.  Also, this guy was clearly "taking it". My guy is definitely not a "bottom". Things just weren't adding up at all. I decided to believe in him and the evidence.
  I had emailed back, asking for more information. I said I didn't want to go in, guns blazing without evidence. They declared they weren't going to get more involved to protect their heart. And, they jokingly said it wasn't all about me. So, I wrote back that I understood. It must have touched them in a way because they wrote back, confessing that it wasn't him and that they made the whole thing up. They admitted they were mad at the world and jealous. Saying it was childish, they apologized. But, by this time, I had fully committed to believing my boyfriend and buried it. We had a great night together that night. We talked and were very passionate. After the confession, I told my boyfriend that somebody other than me was in love with him. He wrote back that he, too, was in love. We admitted to each other how madly in love we were. In the end, it brought us closer together. Then, we had to laugh thinking about how we now both have a picture of some guy's ass on our computers. I apologized to him and thanked him for putting up with my interrogation. What a man. Most guys would've lost their shit. He calmly pulled down his pants and let me examine his ass. That's a keeper if I've ever seen one. I was sad to realize that my past relationships came back to haunt me. I want to trust him implicitly, but there were clearly some fears underneath the surface. That's something I need to work on. Meanwhile, I'll continue to fall deeper in love with this wonderful man. I'm very blessed and SO relieved that my guy is not a bottom.

The depth of my disdain for people is immeasurable

  That should be the title to my blog- The depth of my disdain for people is immeasurable. At least for this week. I really despise human beings and want to curl up in a fetal ball in a basement by myself.   It started off with a grand ole' message from a girl on the dating site. I kept thinking of deleting my profile and kept forgetting. It took one big asshole to remind me that I should get right on that. I received a message from an 18 year old girl saying something like "This little piggy cried because she couldn't find a boyfriend. Change your pictures, Grandma." I have so many issues with this that I don't even know where to begin. First, I don't know why she's even looking at my profile. When you log onto the site, it only brings up what your sexual preferences are, like for straight women, it only brings up men's profiles. How did this girl come across my profile? Secondly, why does she keep repeatedly looking at my profile to know I haven't changed my pictures. In one fell swoop, she insinuated that I was fat, lonely and old. I may be a bit chubby, but I'm not fat at all. I wear a size six. Unbeknownst to her, I, in fact, have a boyfriend. A rather attractive one, at that. And, I really don't consider myself to be old. Besides, everyone's genuinely shocked when they find out my real age, so I don't look as old as I am. These were all the thoughts swirling around in my head. Then, I rationally thought, maybe she's jealous or something. Maybe one of her guy friends likes my profile. Who knows? Who cares? I hope she chokes on her dinner.
  The next fun event was my mom calling me, hysterical, saying someone took her cat. She lives in a high rise building for seniors that can care for themselves. Rationally, no one would have any reason for taking her cat. I tried explaining this to her over the phone. Normal words came out of my mouth like "Are you sure she's not hiding?" and "Why don't you call the office and see if anyone had to enter your apartment for any reason?" I was met with "Why did they take my cat?" and "I knew this would happen!" This is when I reminded myself that I have an emotionally and mentally unstable mother who isn't rational. Of course, she found her cat in the hallway. It must have slipped out when she went to the store. But, by this time, she was in full-blown hysteria, which she feels can only be cured by drinking. So, then, I had a night of drunken phone calls. I was supposed to come down for a visit the next day, but that got nixed. She's like a child; I have to really enforce some kind of punishment when she screws up. For her, that's not seeing Viggo. I just will not put him through any of that bullshit, and she needs to be reminded of that. Instead, I brought him up here for a visit.
  Which brings us to the third shitty thing of the week- my boyfriend flaking out on me. We were supposed to meet up on my day off and he could meet Viggo. Kind of a big thing in my world. I told Viggo about him and that we would all do something together.  Then, I start getting these texts about how he's depressed and not sure he can meet. Eventually, he cancelled altogether. Which would have been fine, had it been just me. But, cancelling on Viggo sucks. I then have to explain to him that our plans have changed. Plus, it put me in a bad mood. My days with Viggo are very important to me since our time together is limited. Anyone that affects that in a bad way, makes me upset. Despite all of that, we had a blast together. Thank goodness I have him or I would probably just bust people/things with a baseball bat.
  Some good things did happen. I got a Hello Kitty coffee maker. A crazy Italian man blew kisses at me as we passed at a red light. (I'm assuming he's Italian from my stereotype of how Italian men love women. And, also, foreign men like me more than American ones for some reason.) I spent great quality time with my kid. Yeah, that's it. For more bad- a ceiling tile in my bathroom fell out and gross shit is now hanging from the ceiling. The landlord never made it over to fix it, yet. It seriously looks like green acid from Alien should be dripping from it.
  Jack White apparently hates the Black Keys. This bummed me out. How can a man I love so much hate a band I love so much? An email to his ex-wife leaked out. Their children go to school with Dan Auerbach's kids and Jack White doesn't want to sit together with him at school functions. Damn. In my world, this would be like Michael Fassbender hating Jon Hamm.
  I know these are all first world problems, but they put me on edge. I feel like punching someone. My level of disappointment and anger for people is overflowing. I guess it's just disheartening when your loved ones let you down. It happens and I'll get over it, I just won't quickly. For now, solitude is the best recovery.

The thing I fear most

  Things change with age, that's a given fact. Fears are one of these things. The things I was once afraid of and I'm now afraid of are vastly different. When I was a child, I remember getting a ghost book from the book fair at school. I devoured it and that night was afraid to shut off my bedroom light. When my Grandma came to shut it off at bedtime, I yelled "No!" and the jig was up. The book was taken from me forever, probably to keep company with my Valley Girl book that was taken because of the word "bitchin'." In my adult years, I've found that ghosts and the dark no longer frighten me. It's the stark reality of life that scares me. The thing I fear most is love. I've been in love twice before and both of these men cheated on me and devastated my world. Now, things are going so well in my new relationship. I feel pangs of... I don't know what it is and I'm afraid to examine it. I don't want it to turn into love. Love=death in my world. For several nights in a row, I've had dreams where I told him I loved him with disastrous results. Easy to analyze that. I'm not terrified of commitment; it's the fear of abandonment and rejection that stifles my expression. A flower can't grow if it's constantly getting stepped on. So, I remain indifferent. I push any feelings to the bottom of my heart. When they surface, I dunk them like a frat boy does to his girlfriend at a pool party. I'm enveloped in this safe, little world where feelings don't exist. But, they do. They gnaw at my mind and my heart. I like him so much. And, I'm terrified of this. Maybe someday, he'll look into my eyes and express some deep feelings and then I can let go with all abandon. Until then, these pangs will be mysteriously vanishing like Jimmy Hoffa or Amelia Earheart. He makes me the happiest woman on earth right now and I'm not going to screw that up.

Edward Scissorhands is needed.

  Has your pubic hair ever been so long you couldn't concentrate? This happened to me earlier today. I keep it trimmed down as a personal preference. I've never ladyscaped specifically for men. It's my junk, I'll do what I want with it. I tried to wax once on my own. Pain kept me from finishing even a quarter of the job. I ended up looking like a hamster going through chemotherapy. Razor bumps keep me from shaving, so I generally trim. I know this is all way too much information. 

  Lately, I've been super busy with work and moving to a new place in my free time. This area of my body has been neglected. Plus, my period just ended. Messing with a trim would've been like trying to plant a garden at the beaches of Normandy in WWII. I was trying to read a book and was so distracted by the feel of it. Another factor was probably the shorts I had on. My cousin, who is a diminutive size zero, gave them to me. I'm rocking a size six-eight, so I'm packing it in. Plus, they're very short shorts. All the extra hair compounded with the tightness of the shorts made me lose my mind. Immediate scissor trim was needed. I can't wait to buzz that shit. The problem is having the electic shaver. It's loud. Everyone knows you're shaving your junk. Or maybe they think its a vibrator, which is worse. So, I wait until no one is around. Lately, that's been never. There has been a revolving door of people streaming through the place where I live fixing it up for the new tenants. Meanwhile, my hair is growing like crabgrass after a storm. Now, I'm at my mom's with Viggo. Not going to attempt it here. With my luck, V would burst in the bathroom and I'd have a future of therapy sessions for my child. 

  Interestingly enough, pubic hair was a discussion on one of Joe Rogan's recent podcasts. They mentioned how crabs are almost obsolete. Girls in porn having been shaving their business for years now, which has influenced regular society's perception of hair down there. Without any pubic hair, crabs are a thing of the past. But, then they talked about how, as men, they all like some hair. That made me feel better. I've never gone for the Kojack look. I have more of a Jason Statham pube look. It's nice to know my look is at least well received. 

  I feel much better after my semi-trim. My pants aren't as snug. There's a feeling of well being. Some people might meditate, I just ladyscape. 

How Gia Genevieve taught me to love my curves

  I recently became obsessed with pinup model Gia Genevieve. Before I go on, take a moment and Google her. She is the modern Jayne Mansfield. She started out as a redhead and became a blonde. This woman is 100% sex appeal and I aspire to be like her. I didn't appreciate this oozing sexiness until I watched a video of her on YouTube. Gia is not stick thin. She embodies curvaceousness. And, I realized its her attitude. She just exudes sexiness or built like a brick shithouse, as some might say. There's a confidence to how she walks and talks. Hell, she sits on a chair smoking a cigarette with absolute, I-am-gorgeous confidence. Whereas, some girls, like me, might be very subconscious about any extra weight were carrying.
  I'm going to try my own experiment- I'm going to pretend I'm Gia for a week. If I carry myself in this same manner, will I exude the same sexiness? Well, of course not, but I might eek out a little sexy. One of the things I love the most about her is her love for her boyfriend. I'm obsessed, so I follow her on Instagram. There are many pictures of the two of them. I'm sure you're imagining a suave, Clooney looking guy. Nope. She's with a skinny, tattooed guy with a huge beard. It's adorable. Practically every comment under his posts of them are "Dude, you're so lucky" or "Your woman is smoking". By the way they look at each other, you can tell it's pure love. I think he posted "My everything" under one picture of her and made my heart melt. I can't say that I never go for good-looking guys because that would be a blatant lie. Seriously, look at my current boyfriend. But, I don't give a shit about money or status. That's very evident by almost everyone I've dated. I like that a lot of pin up models have regular boyfriends. It's the height of adorable.
  I must say that my boyfriend is a huge reason why I'm more comfortable with my body, also. He dotes on me and my curves. The parts of my body that I'm most uncomfortable with, he loves. My butt is huge in my mind, but he loves it. My thighs and hips are out of control, but he compliments them all the time. I was so nervous when he first saw me naked, but was immediately surprised by his delight in my curves. His constant compliments have made me feel like a beautiful woman in his presence. I've never had a man be so wonderful to me in that aspect. With the exception of one, the rest of the guys I've dated have never payed me any compliments. After a while, you doubt your self worth. Coming from a childhood of intense criticism from my peers, I need constant reassurance that I'm not hideous. I think those are mental scars that will never heal. So, my gratitude goes out to Gia Genevieve for showing me how to rock that body and Vasily for loving all of the parts of mine that I hate. I think, for some time, I'll hold my head high.

  

What is wrong with some women

  This title isn't a question. I'm going to tell you what's wrong with some women. It's a certain demographic-middle aged and up housewives. They've never worked a day in their lives and don't get enough attention from their husbands/family. Trust me, you encounter this type of lady in every retail and grocery store out there.The  perfect example happened to me and my boyfriend tonight. We stopped at a Chinese Buffet. As we're waiting to be seated, an older woman comes in for a pick-up order and somehow gets waited on ahead of us. She then proceeds to draw out the interaction for as long as she can. "Well, what's in this won ton soup? My husband can't eat...." Rather than let the woman seat us, she takes us as much of this woman's time as humanly possible. I knew deep down inside that she was delighted. I see this all day everyday. She was getting attention. Attention from the Chinese lady, glaring stares from me; it was her paradise. I do social experiments all the time at work. Try it for yourself if you work in retail. Take today, for example. I was building a table display. At one point, the whole half side of the table was bare, the other half filled with books. Suddenly, there's a small group of  various women milling around this table to the point where I can't work on it. But, I know their game. What they want is for me to get bothered that they're in the way. I know this because they stand at the empty spots. It's weird. But, I'm not new to this dog and pony show. I walk away and do something else entirely. After less than a minute, they disperse. No one is there to give them attention. Sadly, negative attention is mostly what they crave. Like a bad child, who continuously does bad things to get their parents attention, these bitches spend their days trying to mentally smother people everywhere. You see them at the grocery store, pulling out their checkbook to pay for things. Who uses a checkbook? Bitches who need attention, that's who. You seem them at retail stores complaining about everything from the price of an item to the state of the restroom. Most of all, they're just in your way. They walk slow and zig-zaggy ( all the harder for you to get around them). They purposefully stand in front of displays for ridiculous amounts of time. Just look and you'll notice them. Try my social experiments if you work in retail. I've been doing it for years and it never fails. I know I'll never become one of these creatures simply because I have manners. That, and I've worked in retail for many years.

My boy

  I get very sentimental this day every year. It's the most important day of the year for me- Viggo's birthday. I feel like life didn't begin until I had him. People always try to explain the feelings one has for their own child. It's almost indescribable. How do you describe something so pure and strong? It's completely focused and self-less. How can you love something more than anything else in the world? You wouldn't even think it's possible. It is. The old line about being a parent is the hardest thing to do is very true, too. No bullshit. There isn't any guidebook for all the twists and turns that come along. My hardest decision was moving to Pittsburgh. Although I see Viggo as much as I did in WV, I'm still an hour away. I can't just be there at the drop of a hat, so it's an emotional block. It's hard to make a decision where you have to accept that your life will be better, but you'll be farther away. I struggle with it all the time. I just have to remind myself that I would be sitting alone in WV just the same as sitting alone in PA. I still see him on my days off. In an ideal world, his dad and I never would've separated. Alas, it's not an ideal world. He had to learn that way too young. I know sometimes he resents me for the way things are. Someday, I hope he understands. The fact that I don't see him everyday tears away at my soul. We just make the best of it. He has the best dad a kid could ever ask for and that brings me so much comfort.
  The age of eight was difficult. Mom just isn't cool. There was lots of eye rolling and huffing and puffing. I feel nine will be similar. I'm told that they turn around at twenty and become your best friend. Great, only eleven more years. He'll just have to put up with me loving on him constantly and calling him my "baby bear". That'll never change. I'm proud of the boy he has become. He's smart as a whip and the coolest kid around. I love that I introduced him to Doctor Who and now he wears ties and vests. I love that when I look at him, I see both his dad and myself in him. I wish I could give him more of myself and more things in life. All I can do is be this flawed mom who tries her best. I wish I could express to him how deep my love for him is and how different I wish things were. Maybe he'll never understand my perspective or how deeply I love him. That's the perils of being a parent. Parenthood is like stumbling blindfold through a dark room. Maybe that's how it's supposed to feel. I just know that he's the reason I breathe. I know for a fact that he's the reason I make it through everyday. At my darkest moments, he's the only reason I've gone on. I'm so blessed and grateful to have him. He's the brightest start in my universe. What a blessing it is to be his mother. What a beautiful boy.