The Lost Plum…

My blog for today was for something completely different. It was funny and quirky and ridiculous as much as I can be. But then things wondered into my mind so I’ll save the funny for another time (you’ll have to watch for it, cause it doesn’t happen all that often, and jumps on you like a cat while you are sleeping!)

I spent the working, talking, and with friends: just a great day. In fact, I didn’t even realize the date till I was walking home.

Today, some years ago I meet the only guy I have ever really loved! I talk alot about guys but mostly about the mistakes I make while with them and more so the mistakes I make while looking for them.

But no matter what there always will be Josh. The only boy I ever REALLY loved.

I use pet-names/fake names for almost everyone on here. In fact, most of you don’t even know my real name (that isn’t a challenge)

Yet, then there is Josh. He stands alone. He can never be characterized, and never be ‘named’. I can’t put him in that box. And I guess if I am frank about it I would say it doesn’t matter if I use his name. He is no longer with us and thus not reading this ever.

Although in true SIDEBAR fashion this is where I would say he is looking down now (and many many times over the years) and is shaking his head….but probably laughing at the same time! (let’s be honest I’m pretty easy to laugh at)

He is the reason I am guarded when it comes to men. The reason I know what I want, and keep on ridiculous searching for it. But most importantly the reason I am just plain ridiculous!

GOAL: I got to stop being so serious. All my fun loving readers in Denmark (who are catching up quick on my Dutch readers) will stop checking me out.

Had a late dinner last night with Simone after the third instalment of Dating Boot Camp  (more on that to come!)  

As we sat and talked over our burgers about all thing good, bad, ugly, and sexy. I recounted the story of the first “sex talk” I ever had with my mother.  And I thought I should share.

It Happened Like This:

My mother and I are driving in the car home from something.  I’m 17, and had been dating “firstguy” for almost 2 years.  We aren’t really saying anything, sorta sitting in silence.  Then out of nowhere,

Mrs.P: Have you and ‘firstguy’ had sex yet?

Me:  NO…. (in an awkward way, because we of course had)

Mrs.P: Well you better or he’ll break up with you.

We then look at  each other in that, did you just say that/did that just come out of my mouth, way.

She quickly pulls over to the side of the road and gets out of the car, and starts walking…..when she finally returns to the car, she turns to me and says, “I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t talk to you when you are like this!”

And we drove home in silence.  It would be almost 3 years before she would say anything about sex again to me.

As you all know Simone and I have been attending Dating Boot Camp.  Well she wrote a post this past week about the ‘90 day rule’ something Boot Camp endorses (although the entire man panel has disagreed) I could right a blog on my feelings of the 90 day rule and all that jazz, but you can read Simone’s (i agree with with her for the most part)  Basically, here’s the deal, I don’t want to be completely emotionally attached to you and then find out we can’t or don’t work sexually. I just don’t (I have before and, even though I say this I probably will again cause such is life)I started thinking about being emotionally committed to and in love with someone.

I’ve wrote about the ‘first guy‘, and the terribleness that was that relationship. At the end of the day, I did love him, and part of me does still care for him in the sense that I am who I am now because I do NOT have him in my life, and I guess in a sense I love him for finally walking away from me.  But this isn’t a story about that, this is a story about sex and love.  As much I disagree with the 90day rule I will tell this little story. ‘firstguy’ and I were on this big on again off again mess for over a year: mess! And we were definitely not having sex in the last (almost) whole year of this. Actually, not alot of physical anything but we were emotional attached and even when I tried to break a way he’d come crawling back with gifts and promises of us being perfect for each other (and even tales of how much god was telling him I was the one). In a moment of weakness, (in one of the many moments of weakness) I took his sorry ass back. (I did) He showed up at my dorm said he was sorry, how much he loved me, cared for me, how he would change and the whole nine yards (including jewelry and flowers) I remember feeling like he said this but he’d be back doing the exact same thing in a week. Well that time something changed alittle. We started not only kissing we started making out, clothes came off, and he wanted to have sex. I remember saying “why?” in the why-sense of  I shouldn’t do this and why is he all of a sudden wanting this after countless months of nothing. He laying right beside me on one of those tiny dorm room beds looked me straight in the eye and said. “I want to make love to you. You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and will ever love. You are so special to me and I want to share that with you.” So we had sex. I honestly couldn’t tell you if it was good, or bad, but I can tell you its one sexual experience I will always remember. Although, now I know he was feeding me a line, I have never felt so emotionally committed to someone while having sex, and that in turn makes it one of the most pleasurable sexual experiences I’ve ever had (not on a mind blowing orgasmic way but on an emotional feelings kind of way)

So what’s this got to do with the  90 day rule? Yes, its great to get the sex out of the way so you know if two people are “compatible” but there will always be something nice about those time you ‘first’ have sex with someone you care about, and for some maybe that makes all the difference!

FACT: he didn’t talk to me or call me back for 3 weeks after that day. He then broke up with me because of an engagement (see #1 truth ive been told by a guy)

Had dinner tonight for one of my bestest’s birthdays. (Happy birthday JAM) so we are sitting around our Mexican dishes and tall frozen drinks and discussing the craziness that are our parents. While still talking about sex, cause I mean when does conversation amongst friends not turn to sex. We talked about (I of course made endless fun of) Things you never want to hear your parents say, and this reminded me of awkward sex talks with my mother. So I thought I would share another one~~

The time my mother thought I was …well just read it:  It happened like this:

 I was home on a Christmas break from University, when out of the blue my mother said we should have “a little talk…..I’ll come up to your room in a bit.”  Now at first I was like, ok whatever, let me guess could this be about my credit card bills, but then it strikes me as odd that she would meet me in my room.  See we never really had conversation in my room, or hung in my room, or anything like that.  It was never that our rooms as kids were off limits to my parents, they were just out of the way (3^rd floor was just my bro-boos room and mine all the way at separate end of the hall) So I was like, “whatever mom sure, I’ll be upstairs”  A few hours later my mother comes upstairs.  She sits down on my bed and look visible upset.

“I want you to know how much dad and I love you and support you.”

I say “ok” with an odd look on my face, what is she getting at!

“We will always be here for you, no matter what happens” She goes on like this for about 10 minutes, I’m just nodding my head, saying I understand, sort of rolling my eyes over the crazy that is my mother.

“Are you sick?” I ask.

“No.”  She says.

Hmm….she continues on about my parents love for me how they will support me unconditionally in the choices I make for my life.  Oh my god! They are getting a divorce!  That has to be it! Wow, really? My parents getting a divorce, how the hell did that happen.

Now she’s babbling on about how she can “understand” how I’ve been hurt by boys in the past, and how I’ve never had that much luck with guys, how they seem to always break my heart.

“What are you talking about?”  I say.  I mean I’m not absolutely pathetic when it comes to boys.

“We love you so much, but, but, maybe…(she starts to chock up)”

“What mom?”

“Just…maybe don’t come out till your grandma dies.”

“WHAT?!?”

“We are here….” /

“YOU THINK I’M GAY?”/

“I can understand…”/

“I’m NOT gay, MOM!”

“It’s ok, we, “/

“I LIKE THE COCK MOM!”

(Shock on her face and silence……yes I really did just tell my mom I like the cock!)

“I can’t talk to you when you say such terrible things!”  She storms out in tears.

So my mother thought I had been lost to the ladies in University.  I still bring this up every once and a while when I want to make fun of her (we make fun of each other at my house a lot).

SIDEBAR:  My Dad was so embarrassed when he found out about this a few years later.  “You thought what!!???” He turned to my mom…..I’m pretty sure she once again used her famous line “I can’t talk to you when you”….as she ran from the room!

AND: the thing discussed over dinner that you never want to hear your parents say “would you like role-play that.”

I’m one year older, and in a sense one year wiser. I am technically a “MASTER” now, so that statement can be true. I guess I should muster up the formula for the “birthday post” about what the last 27 years have taught me. However, I’ve always been a low-key type birthday person.  Or at least I have been since birthday 21!

Since I turned 21 most of my birthdays usually are days of me denying that I’m getting older, accepting that death looms closer, and stuffing my sorrow with anything that is carb-tastic! (We all remember last years 3 physic readings in a row that said I would basically never make it to see 26)

My 21st Birthday:  I was at home, and everyone forgot. And when I say everyone, I mean fucking everyone!! My friends, my boyfriend, my brother, and my parents.  At about 11pm, I in my room, basically in tears over the fact that no one loved me, I hear my mom knock at the door and ask what is wrong.  I look at her and say; “I don’t know what ever could be wrong on my birthday!?”

She said something I don’t know, about something and asked if I was going to come downstairs.  I went down stairs after (as I hear my parents chattering about something) she left to where she preceded to hand me a card.  I open the card.  It is a pretty little card with flowers on it. It says THANK YOU on the front.  In side, my mother writes, “For being the best Birthday girl!”  (She sure did) and Inside is $95, mostly in 5 and 10 dollar bills (I guess that’s what my parents had.  And since then, I just haven’t paid much attention to birthdays, this way; I’m not disappointed when everyone forgets.

SIDEBAR: The next day I had lots of presents and a fancy dinner, and one of the biggest cakes I have ever seen.  I think my mom went to the store and they had 2 cakes left. The one she didn’t get, and the huge slab cake which was bigger then any office party cake I had ever seen.

FACT:  The cake took up most of the kitchen table.  The dog ate around the entire cake (only leaving a small part in the middle which she couldn’t reach) To this day when my mom brings up how my dog has a bad sweet tooth I blame it on her forgetting my birthday….and she then starts apologizing profusely again.