Keeping Score

November 30, 2009

One of my high school friends used to log on her calendar each time she had sex with her boyfriend. I’m not sure if she logged the number of times she cheated on him, but she felt the need to keep a tally of actual intercourse.

My boyfriend at the time, and roommate to her boyfriend at boarding school, thought if you have to keep track, it’s not enough although it’s hard to imagine his hormones surging more than mine.

I’m thirty one and I’ve heard that my hormones have not yet peaked, another concept I struggle to grasp. Lately, I’ve been anything but interested in intercourse. My boobs that were once so sensitive they would leak milk from stimulation now hang like limp lumps from my body.

Last night I rolled over and I rubbed my foot against my husband’s leg. His disappointment and lack of interest in any sort of contact was immediately apparent. At first I was not sure what he was protesting, but perhaps in some diluted male mind, the contact of one foot and one leg means foreplay.

Maybe I need to be seduced more. Sure. That sounds great. I just can’t imagine it is going to go much beyond, “The kids are quiet. Quick. Strip.”

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Cheating in My Dreams

November 12, 2009

Last night I dreamt I was kissing this attractive well built young guy. I’m sounding like a real MILF when I refer to someone in their mid twenties as young. He began rubbing me and eventually I succumbed to his advances. Other than him being well endowed, I do not remember too much about our physical action, but I do know I was disappointed that we did not meet up again.

My sister and I had been talking about sexual choices we made when we were younger that night and I am not proud to admit how I used my body, or rather let my body be used for ulterior reasons, mostly for attention and feeling included. Who knew not being popular in middle school could have so many ramifications later on in life?
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Driven to a food drive

November 11, 2009



I’m trying to do well. Really. Whether it is how I conduct myself in my new/my mom’s old business, my relationships with siblings and father, and as a mother, I think I’m doing okay. Two years ago I started a food drive at my building and was so motivated as a new and practically unemployed mother I put boxes up at local stores, my lobby, my old lobby collecting who knows how much food for New York’s hungriest. Or at least those who benefit from City Harvest.

I had all of the food collected once the box in my current lobby was overflowing and once the super in my old building reported that some food was stolen from the box in that lobby. I figured if someone took food from a box for the hungry then he too must have been hungry and if not, well karma has a way of equalizing that too.
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Stop asking about my father

November 9, 2009

My dad has cancer.
He is going through chemotherapy.
It’s taking a toll on his body and naturally his psyche.
His prognosis is fine.
He is a pain in the ass, please stop asking about him
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