Honestly Speaking....

Mild warning: The following content is filter-free and might contain some cringe-worthy passages and a whole lot of T.M.I.

Why do women have unwanted body hair? And by "unwanted" I mean, unwanted by ME. According to scholars, we've evolved from apes and well, I guess the body hair is supposed to protect us from the elements. And to credit evolution, we have a whole lot less of it now. But we also have clothes. Last I checked, my jeans did a great job of protecting my ass from frostbite. So what's with the hair there? Yes, I realize I just gave you a nasty visual of a hairy ass...my hairy ass. I am a white chick, a pale white chick. So therefore, by the grace of the Creator, my ass is not covered in hair. But still, there shouldn't be ANY there. Dear God: Do you own a laser? Of course you do, you own like everything. Cuz you doing the job would be a heckuva lot cheaper. And because it would be a miracle, the experience might involve a choir of singing angels. That would be nice.

In an attempt to expand my literary horizons, I'm reading this Erotica book. Some collection of "the best" erotic stories. I'm not sure a story about a girl who likes to masturbate against steel road signs is erotic to me. Nor is the one about the chick who lives in a cage waiting for a new master to collar her and take her home. How about the girl who can only get off to extreme pain and dies at the hands of some lunatic she paid to shoot her with steel arrows. Takes all kinds doesn't it?

I found out the other day that the reason my 4-year old will wait as many days as he possibly can to poop is because he believes a baby might come out of his bum. Never too early to start sex education.

A funny thing happened while I was dancing my heinie (sp?) off at a club in Montenegro: My boob fell out. Actually, it wasn't my boob. It was a piece of boob-shaped silicone I strategically place inside my dress to give the illusion of big boobs. I sat down with my dear friends for drinks that evening and K says to me, "Uhmmm Jenn, nice boobs. What's going on in there?" Guess it was pretty obvious. I divulged my dirty little secret and we chuckled. At one point, I was close to pulling one out for her to see as she had never seen one before. Turns out, I didn't need to. As I was hopping about in the club with Dear Friend #2, FLING! And to my utter horror, a chick next to me reached down to pick it up and hand it back to me. Pretty sure my hubby was more horrified than I was. We left shortly afterwards...boob in purse.

I had a mouth orgasm the other day. Definition: Something food-related hits your mouth and your mouth doesn't know what hit it. You cannot believe what you're tasting. It's.that.good. It came in the form of a new Greek co-worker (the food...THE FOOD!!!) who escaped for a few minutes to meet her Greek aunt and returned with a box filled with golf-ball sized packages wrapped in muted foil. My mouth was turned on immediately upon undressing it because the chocolate was WHITE. My fave. The Easter bunny always made sure to leave a big white chocolate bunny for my brother and I. I expected sickeningly sweet. I was oh-so pleasantly disappointed as my teeth melted in.

Tongue captured my most favouritest topping in the world....CARAMEL. fyi: I never go for the chocolate topping on my sundaes.I was so excited by this surprising taste sensation that I was almost angry. "What the heck is THIS? Oh my God this is so good. No, I mean, this is seriously really good. Have any of you tasted anything so good before? There's no way it could be THIS good. Oh.My.God" And yes, I was talking my way through this experience and with each sentence the pace picked up, my body tensed until finally, release. When I came to, three computer programmers, the new Web girl and hubby were gaping at me. And she said the only thing she could say to me in that moment, "Would you like some more?" No. I couldn't bring myself to cheapen the experience. I would never reach those heights again. Nothing beats the first time.



The End.
Ps. Arentcha glad you stopped by?

Inspired

I have a confession to make: I'm not smart. I'm not stupid. But I'm not smart. I can't pull a quote out of the air to suit an occasion from "one of the greats". Heck, I have no idea who the greats even are. Put me on the spot. I dare ya. Ok, "What goes around, comes around." Have no idea who said it.

Please don't ask me for my stance on INSERT ANY GIVEN ISSUE. I may have one but you'll be able to slice up my rationale like one of those Japanese chefs at those restaurants who do all that fancy chopping while you sit there and watch, hungry as hell and waiting for the acrobatics to stop so you can freakn eat Gosh Darnit! Also, I do not sit and mull over a soul-delving question and research. and sleep on it. and talk about it and mull some more. My reactions are usually knee-jerk.

Protons and neutrons make up an atom, right? Is the nucleus the centre? What about a molecule..is that made up of atoms? The capital of Bolivia is...? Wait...or is Bolivia the capital of another country? I think it's in South America. But look Yugoslav parents, I do NOT believe that eating ice cream in the winter will cause a sore throat. So there.

My depth is limited. There's only so far I can go people. I cannot take a beautiful moment in my day and equate it to some profound truth in life. Or at least, I cannot express it eloquently in prose. I'm terrible with numbers. We are sworn enemies, me and numbers (or numbers and I). We've never gotten along. I thought words and I were BFFs but I'm not so sure anymore. When I read some of the beautiful (see? what an overused word), awe-inspiring (cliche alert), message-ridden (that sounds diseased) posts of yours, I want to cry. For two reasons. 1) I'm proud of y'all and sincerely joyful to read your works of art 2) I feel so unworthy and out of my league. To be sharing the blogosphere with some of you? I mean, seriously. Feel free to kick me out of this club anytime now. Membership expired.

Maybe if I smartened up? Started going ape-shit on Wikipedia. Memorized a quote each day. Took a few night classes in astrophysics, Women's Studies, Something Century Literature, "The Greats", I could catch up. But who am I kidding? I'm 34 and really don't have the desire to be smartened up in the schoolroom sense. Meh.

And no, this is not a "Fill my sails with wind" attempt at "You are the wind beneath my wings" sympathy plea. It's just me realizing how great you all are. And it WAS also a "how shit I am in comparison" revelation but now, it's not. Because hubby sent me an article titled, "Are you the next Steve Jobbs?" And for the record, the guy is an arse. He's a lucky, genius-in-many-ways arse but an arse just the same. And here's an excerpt from said article:

Virtually every ambitious business leader sees themselves as the next Steve Jobs -- and virtually all of them are dead wrong, writes Dan Pallotta. It's fine to try to channel Jobs' creativity and managerial prowess, Pallotta argues, but there's nothing to be gained from weighing your own skills against someone who's clearly out of your league. "Such comparisons spiral you into depression. They demotivate you, demoralize you, and generally suck every last bit of enthusiasm and aliveness out of you," Pallotta writes.

So, I may not be "one of you" (aka: my greats) but you all inspire me so much that I have the courage to keep puking all over this little, not-at-all-enlightening space. And maybe someday I won't be so cold in your shadow and have sunlight on my face.

Did you get that up there? That was going to be the end. And it was my attempt at a clever sign-off to this post. Maybe you'll get it if I point up higher to the "wind beneath my wings" reference??? I guess it doesn't work so well when the "writer" has to explain it...

So, after describing to hubby how great you all are and making a matter-of-fact declaration that "I'm not as good or good enough to be a 'writer'," he basically told me off. But in the "stop comparing yourself to Steve Jobbs" way. And then he offered me some advice in a warm and fuzzy, supportive husband kind of way. So now, I say to me and to you, I'm a gunna stick around and see what a 34-year old, not as "learned", rough-round-the-edges, cliche-lovin', shallow (cuz I said I wasn't "deep"), ADD (that's attention deficit disorder) person-who-likes-to-write can do with and for herself.

Somewhere over the rainbow there's a t-shirt slogan/bumper sticker that hasn't yet been written. I vow to you, on this day, that like Forrest Gump accidentally found the happy face t-shirt design by wiping his dirty face on someone's shirt while running across the country all hairy, I will find and write that slogan and they will shout it from the rooftops. Or, I'll just keep on keepin' on.

The End.
ps. Thanks honey. Love you. Oh and...You Complete Me xoxo
pps. You all ARE really great.

Life lately

Movies meant 3D glasses with an unhealthy does of candy and popcorn. Toy Story 3 was great and worth the carb crash I experienced later that night. My favourite part of the movie was the preview of The Last Airbender...some kid who can bend air I guess and saves mankind? At the end of the trailer, my little man belts out in his loudest voice, "Mommy, I want to be like that boy." The move theater proceeded to erupt in laughter.

Little man has been uhmmm "discovering" his new uhmmm "best friend", uhmmm, you know...the one in his pants. Any advice here? Dad has been saying, "It's not a toy." But uhmmm, it is isn't it? How do we curb this behavior or do we? Advice from folks with older boys? Michelle?

Decided not to head out to the girls' weekend. My reason is purely finance-related to be perfectly honest. If we plan to head home for the holidays AND throw hubby a 50th Birthday Bash, me spending money on outfits both before and during said excurision (not to mention accomodations and meals and drinks), well, I know myself and so this weekend is better left until AFTER Christmas.

Been thinking about starting my own little business. More on that later. A hint: It has to do with Engrish. Yup, EngRish.

Still doing my exercises but with a nasty monthly visit, I've had to postpone to every other night.

Gotta run and figure out what to do today...crappy weather since we returned.