Epiphanies and Dreams

Random Self-Portrait

Cozy sweater? Check.

Favorite sweat pants? Check.

Too much wine, per usual? Check.

Let the blogging commence.

Not to belabor the whole break up thing, I mean it HAS been like a month and a half or something. Right? How long has it been? I'm told you get half the time that you were in the relationship to get over it. So I'm right on track, methinks.

Anyway, I had another love life epiphany last week, all thanks to Parks and Recreation. Now, if you watch the show, you'll enjoy this bit I am sure. If you don't, muddle through or skip over. I'll have plenty more for you, I promise. BUT, if you don't, you should. It's really brilliant. AND if you're planning on starting to watch, you should def skip over the next couple of paragraphs, because there will be a spoiler or two. Je promet.

So, I'm watching last week and Andy does another retardo move and Ann looks at him with just such a pitying look like, mmm no, dear. And I think, Why the hell was she ever with him? And it hit me! I'm Ann! Pretty damn smart, sweet, kind of a doormat, unlucky in love. And HP (the newest ex. keep up.) is Andy, the overgrown man-boy who does dumb-ass shit and lived in a pit.

It all makes sense. What the hell was I ever doing with him?

I was telling this to a friend the next day and she was like, "UM YEAH! We all thought that."

Sigh. Yeah. I guess I'm just kind of clueless.

Until recently, I'd been clinging to this idea that he was such an idiot for tossing me aside (which he is) and I just wanted him to know what he lost. I wanted him to realize what a mistake he made. But I know now that he won't. He won't ever know that or believe that and I have to accept that. I have to be okay with that. I know what he gave up and that has to be enough. 

Not that I regret my time with him necessarily. We had some good times, though I can't think about those too much yet because then it gets too easy to romanticize it all and forget what sucked and then I get sad. I'm done being sad. It's time to let the sad go. And I have to concede that he was the first man to ever tell me he loved me. However he felt at the end, which I admittedly don't know, I do believe he loved me once. And that's a gift. He loved me and I can't regret that.

But when I think back to how unhappy I was the last month or so, I have to be grateful it's over. I want to thank him for that, I think. I was so unhappy! I was unhappy and I just didn't want to see it and I clearly wasn't brave enough to walk away. So whatever his reasons for leaving, at least he did me that favor. I see that now. I don't forgive him for breaking my heart, not yet, but I do thank him for doing what I couldn't.

I've been dating a bit. Just putting my foot out there. It's probably too soon and I know my heart's not in it. I'm sure he's having some torrid affair with some chick with big boobs and I should do the same. Well, except big boobs aren't really my thing. I prefer boyish girls. I just mean, I know some hot sex would help distract me. But I haven't really felt the desire yet.

Still, Goldie has been getting quite the workout. Speaking of which, I need new batteries.

But I think I know why I haven't been into the dating scene. I've been waiting for my true, future husband: Sir Richard Branson.

Yeah, slightly creepy

He's handsome, if slightly creepy. He wants to save the world. He's all athletic and shit. Plus he's fucking rich as all hell so he could just put me up in a chateau in France where I could just be an artist and travel and eat yummy food.

I know he's married, but I don't even need to marry the guy. Domestic partnership would be fine. And I know his wife would love me. Because, well, obviously, I'm adorable.

Plus, people, he has a space shuttle. A space shuttle! Not only have I wanted to go to space since I was like 6, but I'm positive that the only way to survive the zombie apocalypse is in space. I should know. I had a dream about it.

And we wouldn't be one of those couples with pet names (though I do like the pet names). I mean, he'd have one for me. But Sir Richard Branson is much too cool for pet names. I'd call him by his full title at all times.

Sir Richard Branson, dinner is ready.

Sir Richard Branson, so nice of you to buy me that baby giraffe!

Sir Richard Branson, you were great in bed last night. Rawr.

It's meant to be. Obviously.

Still, if I can't have Sir Richard Branson, I have been having dreams that I'm at a museum and meet a guy who looks just like Zachary Levi, but when he's scruffy of course, and it turns out he's an architect and he thinks I'm just delightful, naturally, and we fall madly in love. The end.

Yummers

Hey, it could happen.

Meet Goldie

Before you read this, go read my crazy guest post over at Accidental Musings. It's awesome and you don't want to miss out. Trust.

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My 24k vibrator arrived!

Finally. I was so excited. I had been checking the mail incessantly when the nice man who carries the mail rang my doorbell and had me sign for a padded package. I knew exactly what it was and I was bursting with excitement!

I tore open the wrapping and found the sweet, gold vibe nestled in a box. I picked it up and it was FREEZING. See, the JimmyJane little gold vibe is sensitive to temperatures (but more on that in a sec) and now I know that the back of a USPS truck is not heated in any way.

The first thing I thought was that it's smaller than I anticipated. It's not very long and it's very slim. However, that's turned out to be quite the benefit. The small size is not only discreet (I wouldn't hesitate to travel with this vibe) but I can maneuver it to do much more than I could a bigger vibe. 

Anyway, so yes, it's sensitive to temperature. I held Goldie (her new name) in my hand for a bit and she warmed right up to room temp. Which is perfect because it's like 30 degrees out and no way is a freezing piece of metal going anywhere near my hooha. Ask me again in summer. I may put it in the freezer for a little cool relief (sorry, roommates!). 

Next thing I did was tweet about getting my new vibe and then tested it to see if it was real gold.

Just kidding. I didn't bite down and it wasn't on. I don't want to lose a tooth now.

I also took Goldie in the bath and it responded quickly to the warm water and let's just say it was very much Andy Fun Bathtime.

My fave part? It is every bit as elegant as I'd hoped. Very sleek. Very smooth. Everything about using Goldie is easy and smooth. Care is also simple. Just wash with soap and water after use. Simple.

It's also unique in vibration intensity. Most vibes increase in intensity with a dial and the vibration is constant from tip to base. Goldie has one speed, but increases in intensity at the tip and tapers down at the base. Great for different sensations depending on where I place her.

Plus? She has a very quiet motor. So nice. So, so nice. 

All in all? This is an awesometastic vibrator, full of luxury and ease. I would totally recommend this vibe to anyone looking.

one happy lady

Thanks so much to Toy With Me!

my Hooha deserves some luxury

You know what my hooha needs? A little luxury.

That's right. You heard me.

After all these years of The Sex, my vajayjay has to have what she thinks of as "luxurious" sexy time.

And the way things are going? Ain't never gonna happen.

Don't get me wrong, I've had some goooood sexy time. Sweaty, yummy, sexy time. Deliciously dirty sexy time.

The penises in my life haven't all been, shall we say, solid gold. A select few have been down right terrific in action, though. And I've even had a few magic Os during The Sex from time to time. True story.

But let's be honest. It's never been...extravagant. Never been coating in gold. I mean, really.

Even my solo time, which, well, you know, I know whats I likes, has never been as lavish as my hooha deserves. Now, I know how to make it happen and I don't want to put down Rosie, but she's an inexpensive red vibe that fit my budget. She's like the practical car of vibes. She does the job and never quits on me. She gives me 10 to fifteen O faces and I'm a satisfied gal.

But Rosie needs a pretty sister to look up to. Someone shiny and opulent she can look up to, can aspire to be like one day.

And my hooha? She needs more. She needs some sexy time out of my budget. She needs something lustrous and fancy and downright decadent to rock her world.

Which is why I need to win a 24K Gold Jimmyjane Vibrator.

You heard me right. 24K gold for your hooha. I don't even wear gold around my neck (teehee) let alone up my vaj.

It's time this lady had some luxury. And this luxury? is fully loaded.

Behold, the Jimmyjane Little Gold:

See? I need this in me.

 Thus sayeth my lady friend Mommy Wants Vodka:

The Little Gold Vibrator is  waterproof  so you can take it with you into the shower or submerge it into warm or cold water to mix up your experience, should you like. For a vibrator, it’s incredibly quiet, which means that for those of you with children, your kids won’t be running in to see if aliens are attacking in your bedroom.  The vibrator comes with a three year limited warranty, which is good for people like me who tend to break sex toys.

Does it sound better than that? Fuck me. Literally.

And as it happens? Toy With Me is giving one away (you know, those dolls who write sexy toy reviews?). I shit not. And I will win. Hell yes I will.

Do I have to continue to say why? I don't think I do. If you don't understand why my vajayjay deserves a little gold, well, then you must not have a vagina. Sucks for you and your single orgasm. That's right. I said it.

Vaginas rock. But mine would rock more with some gold vibrating goodness.

Awwwwyeah.

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* This just in: I WON!!!!!!!! ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You know a review will be happening right?