An Oldie But a Goodie

1. HER DIARY

Tonight I thought he was acting weird.  We had made plans to meet at a bar to have a drink. I was shopping with my friends all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment.  Conversation wasn’t flowing so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so we could talk. He agreed but he kept quiet and absent.  I asked him what was wrong; he said nothing.  I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset.  He said it had nothing to do with me and not to worry.

On the way home I told him that I loved him, he simply smiled and kept driving. I can’t explain his behavior. I don’t know why he didn’t say I love you too. When we got home I felt as if I had lost him, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there and watched TV. He seemed distant and absent.

Finally, I decided to go to bed. About 10 minutes later he came to bed, and to my surprise he responded to my caress and we made love, but I still felt that he was distracted and his thoughts were somewhere else.

He fell asleep - I cried. I don’t know what to do.  I’m almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster.

2.  HIS DIARY

I shot the worst round of golf in my life today, but at least I got laid.

He Said/She Said #2

To see the He Said, visit Caspar’s Happyland

Caspar has asked for the woman?s perspective on the age old issue of ?men fake orgasms too.?

My first reaction was ?Hello no.  Not on my watch!?

Then I started thinking about it. How would I know?  Would my man have the sudden urge to engage in conversation afterward, instead of instantly falling asleep?  Would he be hungry like me?  Would there be a noticeable lack of goo? 

Then the voices in my head had a conversation of their own: 

Woman Voice: I know why women fake it.  I understand it.  I even sympathize with it.  When the woman?s thoughts run from ?oh god yes, oh yes, yes yes? to something along the lines of ?what color should we paint this room?  I bet seafoam green would look good.?  That is when there is a problem. 

Man Voice: You think about painting?

Woman Voice: Focus you idiot.  Jees. I have to do everything around here.  My hell. 

Man Voice:  Oh, I see now. I totally get it.  Men fake it for the same reasons.  They might be under pressure to perform, they might be stressed out, they might sober up and wonder what the fuck is that smell.  Maybe they don?t want to hurt her feelings.

Woman Voice: Hurt her feelings? Right.  Because she wasn?t already thinking of painting or plucking out her eyelashes, one by one.

Man Voice: So it?s like that.  Women fake because they have a reason, a legitimate excuse, a need, yet men fake because they?re lazy, inattentive lovers? 

Woman Voice:  Exactly. 

Then I shook my head to make the voices stop because I do get tired of their rambling and when I start answering the questions out loud and the elevator door opens and I?m standing there, all alone, saying stuff like ?men really fake orgasms? No shit? and there is a nice looking elderly woman standing there, well, it gets awkward. 

As for caspars reasons I shall rebut them:

1. Because the sex was not good, as in inspiring of orgasm.  Having been in this delicate situation, I can sympathize, however, I find it hard to believe there is a man out there who cannot reach orgasm if they concentrate.  Unless they are picturing Janet Reno and Roseann Barr having a twosome, I believe it can be done since they seem to require much less stimulation than women do.

2. Because they are tired…..long day.  WTF ever. That is when they turn to their partner and say, “honey, I?ve had a long day and I?m tired.  How about a blow job?”

3. Because they are tired….lots of sex.  Been there, done that.  *grins*

4. Because they don’t want their partner to feel un-sexy.  Faking makes the other partner feel un-sexy? *Hangs head in shame*

5. Because it just has to end.  Been there, done that.  *nods in fond memory*

6. Because the game will be on soon.  WTF ever.  Do it during the commercials, make it last four quarters.

7. Because they are hungry.  This is just sad caspar.  You have obviously missed out on the pleasure of the fruit, chocolate sauce, whipped cream and sex combo?

8. Because the parents are in the next room. Ewwwww.

9. Because the long distance phone rates are really high.  Phone cards buddy. Pre-paid phone cards.

10. Because it hurts…..see #3.  Yep. 

So, while I would like to think that I would know, I am not sure I would.  Absent the goo, the big stupid look on his face when his skin scrunches around itself and his eyes stretch far to the sides, as if someone has a hold of his hair and is pulling his head backward with all their might, I just don?t think I would know.

He Said/She Said

For the male point of view on this hot topic, take a peek over at caspar's happyland. 

Oh, and another thing, don't click the link. I'm warning you now.  Some of them are It is gross, vulgar, foul and disgusting, but because I love you, my sixteen readers, I searched it out and linked herein for those who doubt my words of wisdom.  Click at your own risk.  Oh, and god be with you, oy vey, harvest moon, the force, bla bla, yadda yadda yadda NOT WORK FRIENDLY. 

On to the question: 

What do you think about intimacy (sex) when it is 'that time of the month?'

When this question was first posed to me, my initial reaction was to throw up a little bit in my mouth. Like just now when I re-read the question.  Because, eww. Just eww. 

However, it wasn't always like this. I have some vague recollection that at one time, I was not so opposed to the idea.  I mean, a couple towels, no oral, a quickie, count me in.  Even rear entry, all of the above seemed acceptable to a horny twentysomthing of yesteryear. 

Then something changed. What changed I am not sure.  What I do know is that while sex during menses is perfectly normal, considered safe, and perhaps even a turn on to some people, anymore, it is just not the same for me.  Obviously, I cannot speak for all women, but I can speak for myself, oh, and for my best friend, because we do share a brain. 

When Aunt Flo (as some of us affectionately refer to her), is in town everything in my mind and body feels wrong.  Remember that annoying relative who showed up unannounced, brought lots of baggage, stayed for a few days and wrecked havoc on your daily schedule, made a big mess, then abruptly left without saying goodbye?  That is Aunt Flo, and she does things to my body that are bothersome, mean, discomforting, and downright irritating.  Now, some would argue that sex is animalistic by nature and that menses shouldn't get in the way of that.  I wholeheartedly disagree. 

I retain water which makes me bloat.  There is little difference in the eyes of a menstruating woman between bloated and down right fat.  Very. Little. Difference. 

I ache.  Not just cramps because luckily, I don't really get those, but I do get a backache.  My fat, bloated body aches, and my legs and feet puff up and I look like a fat little oompa loompa with puffy fish hands and feet, absent the sexy orange tint to my skin.

My head hurts.  A dull, steady throb.  Starting the day before, lasting until at least the third day.  It. Does. Not. Stop.  No amount of Excedrin migraine or Midol helps.  It is just there.  Throbbing. Throbbing. Throbbing.  Day and night.  It. Does. Not. Stop. 

I am tired.  So freaking tired.  Tired like the first trimester of pregnancy tired. Tired like I partied all night long and got six minutes of sleep tired.  Tired like when the dramas were new born and woke me up every three hours tired.  This lasts all week long.  All. Week. Long.

The flow.  The flow I will spare you the gory details of but let me say, as I've said before, I could stuff a full size sheep up there and it wouldn't stop the flow on certain days.  It is messy to say the least.  I wear a pad, or “ride the saddle” as my uncle used to tell his girls, and use a “plug” as my brother so fondly refers to tampons.  I am fearful every minute of every day that I’ll leak and honestly, if I could get away with not leaving the house, I’d be all over it.

All of the above, adding in the uncomfortable underwear and the fact that all of my clothes suddenly shrink two sizes, causes the normally well balanced me to become a very cranky, irritable, “wtf do you mean you didn't take out the garbage?!!! after all I do around this house” type of person who isn't fun to be around.  I am snappy.  I am cranky.  One minute I am fine, then the next minute the milk is on the wrong shelf in the fridge and I have an uncontrollable urge to clean the oven and scrub the baseboards and rearrange the refrigerator before I can finish cooking dinner.  I am not pleasant.  Really.

Just ask yourself, if you (the men) felt like this, would you feel even remotely sexy?  Would you want to please your man? Would you want to please yourself?  Would you want to see yourself naked?  Would you feel like shaving your legs?  Hell no I say.  And everyone knows, sex for a woman is different than sex for a man, we need a mood, an ambiance, feelings of confidence and sexy, all of which are damn near impossible to attain during that time of the month.  A man, in his right mind, would want to bring chocolate every day, say a nice word to the woman of his dreams, and then exit stage left.  Stay away unless you are offering to cook a meal, do the laundry, or take the kids away for a few hours so she can take a nap.