The Lost Plum…

So I need to talk about something that has been driving me crazy for months. Something I’ve been seeing time and time again when I watch mindless TV and it just makes me want to cock punch someone while screaming “Allez Cuisine!”

I’ve talked about commercials before. I’m bothered by a commercial that deal with “female issues”, I just am. I’ve talked before on how I don’t like the women in most of them, and then I talked about how some point out how stupid the female population is. But this one takes the cake on pointing out how stupid/dumb/ridiculous the female population can be.

Bayer has come out with a new ad champagne that encourages women to learn more about their birth control. This comes off the back of them being sued millions of dollars for apparently not adequately informing women about the health risks.

Ok first off, if you take any medications you should know what it is, how it works, how it affects your body and interacts with other drugs you take. Your health should always be number one. You need to understand how stuff works. That’s “Living 101.”

Anyways, so although I agree that it’s good of Bayer to let you know that you should take control of your health I have an issue with their commercials. A huge issue.

If you haven’t seen the commercial in question let me break it down for you. There are these women who are blind folded feeling a rhinoceros.  They touch the rhino all over and are trying to figure out what they are touching.

These women give the absolute dumbest answers that one could ever say while feeling up a living breathing moving rhino!  Answers given include: a wall, a rope, a pipe, and my all time favorite is the stupid chick who get’s ear slapped in the hand by a rhino and guesses… A BRUSH!

WTF?!  Where are all these stupid women coming from!  At least I’m glad someone is trying to make sure they all know how to use birth control correctly, cause God forbid these dumb ass chicks get pregnant and start procreating…..that is if they can read the pregnancy test.

Oh here’s the link to the commercial so you can watch for yourself.

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Oh and if you like, dislike, agree, disagree, or want to cock punch me over this opinion (or me in general) you should check LostPlum (that’s me) out tonight from 10-11pm EST. on Shivio.com because I’m going to be a guest on Abiola on LSD: Love, Sex, Dating. The show is hosted by the ever amazing, always funny, constantly sexy Abiola Abrams!  It’s going to be hot hot hot.  You can watch, listen, chat, and even beam in….with me!

It takes alot for me to invite a guy over. I feel like I am always the odd female-duck out in this case.

Girlfriends I have and ones I just meet are always blown away by the fact that I will go home with a guy far before I take him home. Sometimes months before he even knows where I really live.

Girls always tell me they like the ability of telling someone to leave when they want them too. That it’s on their time, their territory, and their terms.

But what if they don’t leave? I however, like the ability of leaving when I see fit. Whether that is 3pm the next day or 3-minutes after walking in the door.

It’s only truly on your terms if you’re the guest. Unless he’s a serial axe murder then it’s on his terms. But as my friend ‘Tex’ would say, “I can’t get my deposit back with blood stains all over”.

When I was making my move to my new apartment a few months back I realized something.

I had never had sex in my room where I had lived for 2 years. Two years! 2 years without having sex meant my poor bed might be comfy but she sure was lonely.

In fact my bed hasn’t seen that much action at all in its 5-year life.  Poor bed.

I guess I don’t really have a point here, except that I like things on my terms I like the ability to leave situations I no longer want to be a part of. And I guess it’s just another way to show how I can be really closed off sometimes.

I speak my mind, I act out, I talk way more then I should in details far more then necessary, but when it comes to my home, my private literal space I don’t just let anyone come through the door.

I like having emotional connections, memories and heartbreaks outside of my familiar: Outside of my comfort zone. My home (where ever that maybe) is that for me. It’s my space, my life, mine.

Anyways, maybe I need to get this bed some more action before I get a new one. Because in my old apartment if those walls could talk they’d skip right over me and go to the next tenant.  But this new place is all mine, so maybe I need to give it some character. But then again that would mean trusting a boy enough to have him in my home…hmmm….we’ll have to see.

I discussed standards the other day. How we need to learn to let things go after awhile. But thing is there are still things that we will always be attracted to about the opposite sex. I need nice teeth, some people need nice eyes, and some need boobs. This is the fact of life here, and that’s not to say some guy who loves boobs might fall in love with a flat as a little boy woman, it happens.

FACT: Me falling for a guy with bad teeth will never happen just so you know!

But what about a personality, or even more so the material things that reflect a persons personality.

We live in a materialistic world, and everyone loves things, no matter what they tell you. Things are good, and things somewhat make who you are. Like I hate getting rid of books that is telling to who I am.

So I’ve been thinking about what materials reflect well on a suitor I am have. Now reflecting materials are best seen in ones home. My kitchen aid mixer and my matching towels reflect more about my personality then my designer shoes and bags, or what glasses I happen to be wearing. How someone fills their living space, in a true reflection of how they fill their brain.

As I’ve slowly been unpacking my apartment and figuring out where to put everything I looked at my pile of art work and it made me think of guys. Guys with art.

Here is one thing I love, and something that will automatically make me intrigued and instantly more attracted to a guy. Art!

Now he doesn’t have to spend a fortune on art, or anything like that. Even one piece will make me look differently and pay more attention. This can even be a photograph. Guys with art make me swoon and get me interested in them. Their art choices tells alot about their personality, their likes, their dislikes, and their inner beauty.

I’ve become extremely attracted to guys with art collections, and photography walls. I can spend hours in museums so why not spend hours at a guy’s place admiring art and having sex.

An apartment without art is not a home, and if you don’t have a “home” why would I want to play house with you.

I’ve been surrounded by boxes and piles of junk lately, more so piles then boxes. I am doing a major clean and purge of my life “things” (I’m moving)

SIDEBAR: I love my stuff, and my junk but it’s just “junk” and it has had a great life with me, and will make someone else very happy, and stylish “to-boot”

As I’ve been in awe of my collection of things I have noticed something very different than in any other move I have ever made.  I don’t have any relationship outcasts. No boy leftovers, no guy junk, or man tokens.

Last time I went “home home” my closet was still filled with boy leftovers: teddybears, pictures, and all sorts of crap. And it seems like every time I have moved I have had lots of guy-junk to purge from my life, and this time: nothing.

Ok, that is a lie. I have three things.

I have a pile of CD’s from “bandboy”s band. Some are even unopened and by some I pretty much mean all of them.  I count this as one thing, although it’s more like 8 things. I don’t know why I have them, why I even keep them, and why on earth I’ve moved them to different apartments (even a different country).  Although, when he mailed me the latest CD I had a nice little pile to add it to.

And I have two shirts.

Now I know what you are thinking, that I must be one of those girls who takes things from guys. You know the ones who take sweatshirts and t-shirts: the girl who collects t-shirts from guys to sleep in.

FACT:  I’d rather not sleep in a t-shirt.

But thing is I don’t really do that. Why would I want someone’s dirty clothes when I have my own perfectly clean (and even dirty) clothes? But I sat the other night staring at two: a hoddie and a sweater.  Such ‘girl’ things to take from guys I know, right.

But the fact is, I didn’t really take them. I kept them.  I didn’t let them go when everything else went.  Last time I really sat down and cleaned out my life’s ‘junk’ I did it for two. It was mine, and it was his, and I cleaned out and flushed so much away.

Just like my giveaway pile now, I got ride of so much that was drenched in memories.

Now it sounds strange but I can recall memories with everything I have, unless I really have no clue where it came from. I know where “we” have been together: my stuff and me.

I remember the time I got my heel stuck in a sidewalk grate and walked almost a block without a shoe(the pretty black with purple top Prada ones). Or the green and pink Jacob solder bag I trekked allover France. Everything has a memory, a place, and a story.

And then I have these two shirts. I have no idea why I kept these shirts. It is a plain grey cotton sweater that even though I have grown in size I still swim in it, and a black (but really looks navy) hoodie with nothing on it, warnout cuffs and missing drawstring.

I have no memories attached to these items. I have no idea where they were purchased, or even when they were worn. Yet, these were the two things I decided would help me remember someone: the person who owned them.

Sometimes it isn’t “things” that we remember.  We remember an experience, a feeling, and even a sensation.

I remember France, and that trip, and the friends I was with, how much I laughed, and all the things we did. The bag didn’t give me that. I remember the great night out I had with an amazing friend when I happen to lose my shoe.

It’s never been about the shoes, the bags, the coats, and even the glasses.

And then…

I remember a boy that I loved, not the clothes that he owned.

Yesterday I had the pleasure (and I do mean pleasure) of spending time with the most amazing Nando and Nathan.

And we made a little video with huge production costs!

So check it out! Post a comment! And tell us what our next Hot Topic should be about!

SIDEBAR: I’m never chewing gum again….and I need some lipstick!