Only enough blood for one head

Have you ever noticed the look on a guy’s face in the middle of the “act”? Universally he looks completely dazed and drugged. The look is not dissimilar to a crack addict that finally gets his fix and can feel the drug beginning to course through his veins. It is a small wonder after viewing this drug like state in a few men’s faces that women think there is only enough blood in a guy’s body for one head. Does sex induce a drug like addiction from men? When a guy has that look on his face, I feel like I could get him to do anything for me at that moment. It is a disconcerting feeling to have that much power over a person even if it is just for a moment.

The funny thing is I think I should like seeing that look but I don’t. Every time I see it I am reminded that men are stupid especially when it comes to sex. It reminds me that a man can not be trusted and when in the throws of lust is incapable of thinking about anyone else. I am reminded that they only have enough blood for one head.

I am not your nurse

The flu is raging through my workplace. I normally don’t pay attention to sickness which is probably why I have had walking pneumonia twice. However this flu was not to be ignored, it started with a mild sore throat and within hours it had knocked me out cold. I went home sick from work for the first time in my adult life. It is a week later and I am still not over it. I was so sick; I missed ballet class, hockey practice and skiing. It is the main reason I have not written in a while.

When I am sick I want to taken care of more than any other time in my life and I like to be taken care of all the time. I am also not a good caregiver when other people are sick. I think the Love of my Life destroyed any caregiver tendencies I had; he was such a baby when he was sick. Now the Kid is sick, the only person who attempted to give me any care during my sickness and I just can’t return the flavor. I am not a caregiver and I am so not the mother type. I hope he gets better fast and on his own so I don’t have to feel guilty.

I need more ammunition

Once again my co-workers have found it necessary to play a practical joke on me. About this time last year I had a collection of conversation hearts on my desk, one of the best candies ever made. The problem with conversation hearts is only the white ones are good and the pink ones edible and therefore I had a whole container of hearts that were not eligible for consumption. Thus the green and purple hearts became projectiles in my cubicle village. If I needed their attention I launched a heart over the cube. If I was bored and one of my co-workers on the phone I launched a few more hearts. Over the course of months we all had ammunition and used it whenever needed.

I have been out of the office for the last week and today I went to open my cubicle shelf and 900 hundred conversation hearts spilled out. My co-workers had rigged up tape, paper and a cup full of hearts so that when I opened the cabinet the hearts would spill everywhere and they did. I hate my co-workers and I need more ammunition.

Protective Mothers

My life lately has been incredibly eventful but I will start with the most traumatic experience. Sunday was the first nice day that my little corner of the world has experienced in 6 weeks. It was sunny, over freezing pleasant day and I decided to take Meadow on a walk. About 1.5 miles into the walk I heard some people yelling at their dog. I turned around to see a male pit bull bearing down on Meadow. I immediately flew into action; I reached down and put my entire upper body over Meadow.

The pit bull impacted my face but Meadow was entirely shielded from the attack. I picked Meadow up and shouted at the pit bull. The pit bull took off in the direction of the people yelling at him. At that moment I just wanted to get my baby away from that dog so we took off in the other direction. About 2 blocks from the scene I thought “Wow my face really hurts.” A couple blocks later it hurt more; I checked for blood but didn’t see anything. When we finally arrived at home I looked in the mirror and flipped out. My entire right side of my face was bloody with 3 distinct claw marks. The area of my face that really hurt on the walk was blood free but red and possibly from his teeth, though I am not sure.

The scratches had broken the skin but they weren’t really that deep. I was pretty freaked out because I was certain that it would look terrible and the scratches started at my sun glasses and extended all the way down my neck. I wanted sympathy and TLC fast so I sent the following text message to various people. “I was just attacked by a pit bull while protecting Meadow and my face is messed up!”

Now as you might imagine the response was immediate and alarmed, I should have included that I was okay in the message and only my vanity was hurt. Today only one scratch is visible with my makeup on; the bruising is not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

Shopping cart contents

I live in a really small town of 18,000 residents where almost everyone knows everyone else. Today I went to the grocery store where I knew the cashier through a mutual friend. In my cart was black sheets, a case of beer, 6 different valentines, steaks and condoms. The cashier gave me a knowing look and said “Wild plans?” I looked at my stuff and it dawned on me how bad it looked. It looked like a seduction scene from a really bad movie or one that might take place in a trailer. I did not even think what my small town neighbors might conclude from my shopping cart contents when I was throwing stuff in the cart. I stammered “It is not what it looks like”.

It is a lot more innocent than it looks; I have friends coming in from out of town, the sheets, steaks and beer are for them. I found out my 15 year old younger brother is having sex the condoms are for him. The valentines are for the various men in my life right now.

The Drain Guy

I have toyed with the idea of relating my romantic woes on this blog. I have shied away from it primarily because my blog is not as private as I would like and I am a very private person. Oh sure the most outrageous stuff imaginable leaves my mouth but a vast majority of it is made up. It is the way I hide what is really going on in my life. Another way would be not to talk but that doesn’t seem to be an option for me.

However this story is just too good to not share. Saturday when I was getting ready for my hockey game, my toilet stopped working. As I was going to retrieve the plunger I noticed 4 inches of water in my laundry room. “Mother F**ker!” was the first thing out of my mouth. I mildly freaked out for a minute or two and then felt very sorry for myself for another 5 minutes and then called Roto-Rooter. They had a guy at my house in an hour. The drain guy was easy on the eyes too. He asked me where my main sewer clean out was and I was baffled and told him that I would call my ex and ask. Of course my ex knew where it was and an hour after the drain guy started my drain was clear and an hour after that my laundry room was cleaned.

Now the interesting part; Sunday I get a text message saying “Hello, I thought you might want to talk”

Me “Who is this?
Them “Steve (name has been changed)”
Me “I still don’t know who you are”
Them “I was at your house on Saturday, this is really awkward.”

At this point I thought he was crazy, no one was over on Saturday. I missed my hockey game because of my drain and then it hit me it was the drain guy.

Me “I think I know who you are but to be sure what were you doing at my house on Saturday?”
The Drain guy “Fixing your drain, do you want to get together and talk?”
Me “How old are you?”
The Drain guy “23”

Holy crap! It is flattering and as I mentioned he was easy on the eyes too. I did not flirt with the young man; I guess I still have it.

Always a bride's maid never a bride

I am eating way more than I need or should. I have also failed on the whole exercise plan but my active lifestyle is compensating and I have 10 pounds to go. My youngest sister is getting married in 6 weeks and it would be great to lose the weight in time for her wedding. Though I am already half her size and I don’t want to intentionally look better than the bride.

I have my first fitting for my maid of honor dress tonight and I don’t want to be part of her wedding. I really don’t want to be maid of honor; I think that position should be reserved for her best friend. I don’t think I am her best friend; in fact it depresses me to even entertain the idea. By my way of thinking her asking me to be the maid of honor is to ensure that she has a great bachelorette party.

I will throw her a fabulous bachelorette party, the one I threw for my sister Brittany is still talked about years later. For Susan’s bachelorette party I am planning on hiring a driver and bus to take us to the nearest gambling town, 2 hours away. I will rent suites for the party and hire visual entertainment not to mention provide everyone will a whole surplus of alcohol and food. Do you think it is enough? Or should I also plan a scavenger hunt in the casinos and bars?