Sunday, July 8, 2012

Im a Cougar, not a MILF. Get it straight.

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Steady diet of.....................You fill in the blank.

Damn, here we are in July of 2012. Where the fuck did half this year go??? As I sit here on a Sunday afternoon watchin a marathon of "Frasier", I felt it was time again to login and sound off. Well, let me tell you. It has been a whirlwind of experiences for me. My friend actually gave me an idea for a calendar called "Cock of the Month". Umm, uh, there's not enough months on the calendar for that. Just sayin'. I feel like this blog has become more of my sexual escapades and self-discovery, rather than my lap-band experience. But, then I realized that this IS a part of my lapband journey. My surgery has brought me to this place of awakening. Without it, Id be sitting here at over 300 pounds by this time and wallowing in self-pity and disgust at what Ive become. Instead, I sit here feeling confident, sexy, desirable, and loved, believe it or not...........still wondering what Ive become.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Back in the SAddle

Wow, has it really been a year since Ive posted here? Doesnt seem like that at all. Time is flying and Im trying to get everly last bit of fun in that I can.

Anyway, so much has chaneged since last time. My life has gone from a sexless, unfufilled life to a sex-filled unfulfilled life. But, wait,its not as sad as it seems.

So, I asked my husband for a divorce in April, right after I met up with a younger guy and decided that this would be my first re-entry into the wonderful world of sex. It was a re-awakening of sorts. Ive written about this in my past blogs, but felt it was time to re-visit. Im still friends with him and will always have some kind of connection because of the experience. It was nice to feel desired after all that time of not feeling like I was sexy to someone. It was nice to see a penis again, a hard penis that is. It was nice kissing a goodlooking guy with a hot body. Ok, let me stop. Its getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes.................ok, you know how the song goes. But, I digress.

I must say that sex has its ebbs and flows depending on the partner and what theyre into. I, myself cant stand a quiet man. I like it rough and hot and nasty and I like the dirty talk. I wanna hear you moan and tell me how good it feels, whether youre doing something to me or vice versa. I dont wanna guess if your coming or not. Shout it out!!

I like it to be passionate and exciting. Now, Im not saying that I will do all that, so dont get crazy. I have to be comfortable with someone in order to let go of my inhibitions. Im still not comfortable with my body and I still hate these fuckin thighs!! But, I try to remember that my partner likes what he see or he wouldnt be there. Ah, these issues are here to stay.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

What About Your Friends?

As you get older, the huge herd of friends that you had when you were a kid seems to have thinned out to a few. People grow and change and the friendships that we've known then, dont quite fit the bill anymore. What we required then in a friendship doesnt necessary apply now and those unfulfilling friendships just didnt carry through into adulthood.

I carried a few friendships into adulthood. Ive also ended friendships in adulthood. Ive noticed that when men get involved, friendships change. You put a dick in the mix and shit gets fucked up. Ask any woman.

I have had so many friends "disappear" when they had boyfriends or husbands. It was like they were just hanging out with you until they found something better to do. Magically, they would re-appear when the guy was gone. Dont get me wrong, I have no problem with you getting your groove on, but is it so hard to get your groove on AND keep your friends?

Not everyone does the disappearing act when a man comes along. Some people know how to balance both.

But, this past year I have met some pretty amazing women who have become friends. These women come from all different walks of life, yet we've all met at the same crossroads. Ive met cancer survivors, incredible self-taught photographers, nurses, single moms, and others. Im in awe of them all.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Reality Check

Damn, I hate being 46! I really hate it. Why is it that this is the age where you feel powerful, content, ok with your body and your sexuality?? Im not saying its a bad thing, but you also forget that you actually ARE 46 and not 26. It sux ballz.

Ive never felt so alive and sexy, than I do now. In my head, I feel 26, but my face rats me out. Dirty Bitch. I think I look pretty good. My skin is wrinkle-free with a few lines by my eyes, but overall, I look good. Youth really is wasted on the young. They dont know what the hell they are doing.

So, with this "I look damn good at 46" attitude, I go to a local bar with some friends to see a band play. The band played, took a break, and never came back. So, we hung out for a little. The bar started filling up with college age kids. Big deal, right? Im a Cougar. I'll blend in, have a drink, check out the cubs. Little did I know, my bubble would be burst by some young little punk with an attitude. Prick.

Im standing in this sardine can of testosterone and estrogen, when I turn around to tell these kids behind me to stop hitting the back of me. This little prick has the gigantic balls to say, "Its a bar, give me a break, its a 22 year old bar, WHAT ARE YOU, 45?" My fuckin head spun around like Linda Blair's, in "The Exorcist". I said, "Who the fuck are you to tell me where I should be at my age, you fuckin punk?" At least, he didnt call me fat. The Pea Soup would have blinded his ass.

If I had a penis, it would have shrunk up into my testicles. That comment, and I hate to admit it, will stick with me for a while. I hate that about myself. I take everything so personally. I hate that this kid's comment will stick with me for a while. Suffice it to say, we left there almost immediately after. I need to have my hotness validated soon or I will fall into a deep depression. Where's Bob when I need him?

I do love my young guys, still. Just not THAT young. They are nice to look at, but I do like guys my age as well. My taste varies. If you're mature and know how to handle your business, Im cool with that. If you're in my age group and are mature and can handle your business, Im cool with that too.

I did recently have a dalliance with a 22 year old. I gave in after he nagged me for days to go out with him. I had refused him because that was way too young and I told him that I would only be using him for sex. I was kidding, mostly. Of course, he said he didnt mind. It was flattering and he was cute. He didnt look his age and he had a good head on his shoulders. He was very driven and sexy as hell for 22. This boy had been around! He stuck his tongue out in such a way that made me feel like he wanted me on a plate for dinner.

It was a mistake. He was cocky. I gotta give him credit for his confidence. He was cocky and clearly thought he could impress me. He threw out lines that young girls would fall for like, "Omg, I'm hooked, you're so sexy. He was good with the talk. His body had no muscle tone. I dont think he was old enough to have muscle tone. He wanted to cook me dinner. Dinner never happened. I think I scared him off. I can be a little rough on people. I think he played me. Im not sure. Or, maybe I played him. I dont know. I hate the games, I really do. Oh, one more thing. Do guys really still say, "Whos your daddy"? Really? How do you answer that? I dont wanna be reminded of my daddy in that moment. Who started that, anyway. Needless to say, I never heard from him again. I didnt expect to. Maybe I should've told him who my daddy was.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Stuff Your Bird

Thanksgiving is over, thank God. One miserable holiday done and gone till next year. Christmas is next. Im proud of myself. I havent thrown up in two days. Thats quite the accomplishment for me lately. Because Im very open, maybe too much, about my surgery and all its ups and downs, Im scrutinized at every fuckin meal.

All eyes are on Lisa, waiting for that look on her face that tells everyone at the table, that if I eat one more bite, im going to explode. My sister, the "Lapband Police", is on me like white on rice. That bitch doesnt miss a beat. Shes like a lion in the brush, waiting for her prey to make the one false move that gives the signal to pounce. And, pounce she does.

So, here I am with a full dish, that everyone knows I cant possible finish these days. I have my niece sitting next to me. Shes now the Deputy, by the way. Im eating, and eating, and eating. I know that Im beyond the point where one more piece of food will cause the alien to explode from my stomach. I feel my sister's eyes on me, waiting for me to glance up and lock on. Damn it! I looked at her and she shoots me the "Put the fork down and step away from the plate" look. To my right is my niece, who says" Sisa, you know your full". OMG!!!

I cant go to the bathroom during or after a meal these days, without someone asking me if Im gonna throw up. Everyone is monitoring me. Im surprised they dont come into the bathroom with me to make sure I dont throw up. Its my fault, I share too much. I dont why, I just do. I really need to break that habit. Actually, both throwing up and opening up.

My niece is worried that my esophagus will explode. She saw a documentary on TV about it and now worries that Sisa's esophagus will explode. I feel like a junkie sometimes. I havent learned anything from my lapband experience as far as stopping when satisfied. I just cant grasp that concept. I always want more. Again, Pat says its longing. Am I gonna be longing forever? That sounds so sad, like unrequited love or something. Im gonna be searching for something I will never have in my entire life? The thought of that makes me wanna vomit.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Shhhhhh!

Secrets have always been a part of my life. They are what kept the bad stuff hidden from everyone. Secrets made my life miserable.

I grew up with an abusive alcoholic father who did nothing but hang out at the bar all day and then come home, only to continue drinking and ordering all of us around to get him a beer and empty his ashtray. I can picture that fuckin ashtray, still. It was on a stand next o his chair and the astray bowl was amber and always filled with cigarettes.

Do you know how hard it is for a kid to have to explain away your father's drunken antics to your friends? We were never told that he was drunk. The catch phrase for his condition was either "Daddy's in that mood" or "Daddy is THAT way". I hated it.

Of course, that hatred of secrets was temporarily quelled by food. Just temporarily, though,

I think thats why Im so vocal these days and so not secretive. My business is all out there. I just feel that if you wanna know me, you hafta know all about me and my craziness. Im so open about my stuff, sometimes too much much and hafta be told to reel it in sometimes, but its almost like a defiance. There is something thats feels so shameful when you have to keep secrets, like no one can ever find out or you will be humiliated or laughed at or made fun of. "This is nobody's business".

I guess thats why I kept the fact that my husband cheated on me a secret for 4 years. That was when I got my fattest. That was the only secret that I kept to myself in my entire life........and it was killing me, literally.