Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Ever felt the brunt of God’s not-so-funny jokes? You know, the sort of NOT funny times when karma kicks your ass? I had that happen over Christmas and it was NOT funny. As a woman, there are times when you’re wondering if a man’s just interested in you for your booty. We’ve all been there. You crave more cuddling time just to make yourself sure that he’s into YOU for YOU not just booty, right?
Well, until NOW, I’ve never known what it must feel like to be a lusty man because now I’ve totally discovered I’m a lusty man in a woman’s body. Yup, a pig in a skirt! A female chauvinistic pig.
While my ex, Scott, was here, I guess he wanted to really get to know me after two years apart, to watch TV, cuddle, talk, hold hands. But God played a little joke on me. Normally, I would have wanted this, too. Only my hormones have been changing over the past few years. I eat/drink/breath/daydream for sex. I even know the name of my favorite porn star (Joel Lawrence, in case you’re morbidly curious).
What I wanted was sex, the durty-durty, and lots of it. I’d been fantasizing for over a year. And I’ve been without sex for . . . (drum roll) two years. Pathetic, huh?
So imagine my pain to only have gotten nooky a handful of times over the vacation, four times. I’ve waited to have sex for two years only to have sex four times.
At one point, as we were “snuggling” on the couch, he thought it’d be cool to read me some CNN Headline News over his Blackberry since I don’t have cable. I wanted to scream, “PUT DOWN THE BLACKBERRY, THROW ME OVER THE SIDE OF THIS COUCH AND BANG ME LIKE A SCREEN DOOR IN A HURRICANE!!!!” In fact, the whole vacation was like that, him playing the concerned feminine role and me the sex-obsessed male.
Him: “Let’s go out to eat. You don’t need to cook for us today.”
Me: “How ‘bout we stay home and get naked?”
Him: “Come on. Let’s go get a pizza!”
Him: “You want to go see a movie while I’m here?”
Me: “Yeah, if we can bang in the theatre.”
Him: “Dang, The Road’s still not playing here yet.”
Get the picture? This pre-menapause constantly craving sex thing sucks. Either that, or I’m turning into a dude.
My ex, Scott, left yesterday to go back home to Florida. I thought there'd be tons of wild-monkey-sex during our happy reunion after being apart for two years, but there wasn't tons of monkey-sex. Why? He brought his two giant labs to visit my tiny, one-bedroom house.
Here's my Top Ten signs that you're with someone who's an obsessive dog owner, ODO.
1. Lack of sleep on your part. Dogs get to go out for a middle of the night pee, even two middle of the night pees followed by loud noisy, crunchy treats to be eaten by them in the dark of the bedroom (which aren't treats somewhat unnecessary since that obviously leads to another middle of the night surprise, called a "poop"?). Don't plan on sleeping much if you're with an O.D.O.
2. Dogs cry all night long, wanting to sleep in the bed with you. Prepare to wear earplugs. Bear in mind, I do not have a queen sized bed. Nor do I have a king sized bed. Yup, that means I have a full sized bed, which is a glorified twin bed. Also bear in mind that Scott's almost 6'4" and over 230 lbs. Nothing says no-sex-for-you more than two 90 lb. dogs with their heads in your face, whining and drooling on your pillow all night because they want to sleep with you. This is precisely why I trained my dog, Bennie, to be fine going solo at night. Nookie with a dog ass in your face, or why not TWO dog asses in your face, will surely kill any mood you might have had going while showering before bedtime.
3. Early morning sex is OUT! Heavens no, not when you have two "needy bears" to attend to. Heavens no, you cannot just let them out to pee, feed them, then hop back in the bed again. Good grief, no, not with an ODO. You must then have a good 10 min. baby talk session with them then take them for another walk, then a feeding where you HOLD their pans out for them, not set them down on the floor and walk away, then another 10 min. baby-talk congratulating them on eating and rewarding them with another walk and treats, even though you're going to walk them in an hour anyway.
4. Just before bed sex is OUT. Heavens, no. What are you thinking if you're with an ODO? Before bed time, is for tucking the dogs in, NOT sex. Yup, tucking them in--like little babies. That means making "blankie" beds for them on the floor, THEN COVERING THEM UP WITH blankets, then when they get up fifteen minutes later (because maybe dogs do NOT like being covered up with blankets), get out of bed and re-cover them as quickly as possible, then follow that up with another 5 min. of baby talk. This cycle can be repeated up to an hour, possibly more. No late night sex for you if you're with an ODO.
5. Romantic dining. No time for that when you have dogs that are trained to beg at the table and eat people food. Eating at the counter is the preferred style. Why bother sitting down, if the dogs are only going to cry and jump up on you and knock the candles over? If eating at the table enjoying a candlelight dinner is in action, then the dogs are to be crowded around the table, either whining, barking, or preferably whining AND barking with their chins rested on the tablecloth edge. SO keep your hand around that candelabra.
6. Fun cooking. This one is out, unless you mean, one person cooks while the other judiciously guards the countertops. Koe Koe jumped up on my counter, while my back was turned for TWO seconds, and ate half my roast that I had doctored up and worked on all afternoon. That was really fun. The way a root canal is fun, or a bounced check, or driving on black ice or getting a D.U.I.
7. Having nice blinds down on your windows. Oh, this one is SO out. Your house should be crazy-animal-proofed as if you were proofing your house to be in a sample holocaust house blasting area. Yesterday, our romantic afternoon was cut short when I got a call from my neighbor, Leslie, informing me with a picture/text that my blinds were hanging in shreds from my living room window. Nothing says sexy time more than shopping at Wal-Mart two days after Christmas looking for replacement blinds!
8. Romantic walks in the snow are OUT--of course this is out! Dogs' pads might get too cold. Therefore, a long walk in the delightful winter snow is out. It must be limited to 40 min. or less on account of the dogs' most tender footpads. This one is rather interesting to those of us who've read WHITE FANG. It seems to me that dogs descended from wolves, who rather liked the snow, but what do I know?
9. Sexy clothing. Oh this one is SO out. Unless of course your sexy peek-a-boo top is made of rip-stop nylon! Yes, aren't halters made of rip-stop parachute material easy to come by? After spending 45 min. with a roll of duct tape on my expensive peek-a-boo sweater, I sadly hung it back up in my closet, instead opting for a windbreaker that hair wouldn't stick to.
10. Absence of concern over safety, YOUR safety that is. The "bears" safety should always come first. The last night he was here, I couldn't remember if I shut off the mattress pad heater. So under the tiny light of my nightlight, I crept out of bed, carefully stepping over one dog in my 9' by 9' bedroom, just to trip over another dog, sail through the air like a rocket propelled grenade, only to land in a crumpled heap on the floor. Scott, the classic ODO, bounces up from bed, "Koe Koe. Are you OK?"
I said, wearily, knowing there'd be no sex again tonight, "Koe Koe's fine. Don't worry about me. I think I might have a major contusion, is all. Nothing."
Ha, ha. Fun for me!
Ho, ho, ho!