But spooning is just one in the plethora of sleepy snuggle positions out there.

Relationship sleeping has an element of security to it. You feel secure, and safe with someone next to you. And like some corny stupid Faith Hill song it’s because you can feel the other person “breath”.

And although we may move from spooning to only a small cuddle we still feel that person there, and that is the comfort…right?

And as time passes an relationships evolve we grow comfortable in both turning away and not touching, because we don’t need to feel the other person to know that they are right beside you.

But that’s where one of my new favorite positions comes into play. As we both drift off to sleep facing away from each other, our bodies get comfy, and we start to curl into little sleeping balls.  And even though we didn’t need to fall asleep touching each other, our bodies find each other……. and we are sleeping “cheek to cheek.”

Turning to twitter seemed like the most logical thing to do since flipping the cushions was not an option…because frankly the other side of the cushion was even ‘manlier’.

I still need to dry clean my cushions covers (infact even more so now) but here were the Top 5 Home Remedies that followers either tweeted me or emailed me.**

Maybe sharing the knowledge will help someone in need…..it is national volunteer month!

“Just use a dry tooth brush and some Fabreeze and brush it off. Works every time!!”

“ some cold water mixed with a little dish soap and lemon.”

“ Try seltzer water and a tiny drip of vinegar”

“protein-based stains need cold water remember that.”

“No more spitting only swallowing and use a condom next time Plum.”

**FACT: I had just copied these into a document and stupidly not listed who told me what so my upmost apologizes for not being able to give credit where credit is due…but then again none of these worked for me so frankly screw you guys!

I’ll mutter things under my breath, make comments or comebacks that might have always been quick on the draw but sometimes may have been inappropriate.

I’ve many times caught myself on a date saying, “I’m sorry we just meet and I’m already making fun of you” which by the way all were funny comments. (I can be hilarious at times)

When I got my big corporate job this had to change. Which some people found funny, as I had to be professional at an establishment many view as quite the opposite. I had got pretty good not saying things, but needed to started mastering the art of not making sounds. You know those sounds of disbelief that escape your mouth when someone would say something utterly stupid in a meeting.

SIDEBAR: I somewhat mastered this…somewhat.

The facial feature looks of disgust I’m still working on. I’m pretty terrible at making faces.

But when I’m comfortable. Truly at easy and enjoying myself I resort back to my old ways, and have a tendency to say things aloud without thinking. In fact many times I say things aloud that I think I am only thinking in my head.

FACT: this may or may not steam from the fact that I spend many hours working from home alone now, and say things to myself out loud.

Well sometimes accidently saying what I’m thinking gets me into trouble and sometimes it’s down right embarrassing:

Things were hot and heavy, and it’s going really good. I’m totally in the moment. We’re both in the moment…. the missionary moment. And the moment is good.

A thought pops in my head.

He stops.

I open my eyes.

He is staring at me with a puzzled but scared and mixed with a little concern look.

“Are you serious?” He says.

“What?”

“Do you?”

Awkward silence, for a minute as he’s looking down at me and I’m looking up.

With shock on my face, “Did I say that out loud!?”

“Did you think you didn’t!?”

“Oh my god! I thought it in my head!” I begin to laugh from mainly embracement.

He beings to laugh.

“I’m so embarrassed…..I didn’t mean to say that out loud”

I’m hiding my face in a pillow I’m so embarrassed but yet I’m shaking from uncontrollable laughter.

After what feels like 15 minutes of us both laughing a silence falls. He reaches over and hugs me, kisses my head and in his best Plum impression repeats what I had said.

“I think I have to fart?”

I started to clean out my address book on my phone.  I began the daunting task of deleting numbers unneeded, adding to those I have further information for, and all the good head scratching that comes from filing through ones address book of 724 contacts.

I have friends, work contacts, old work contacts, restaurants, stores, doctors, old friends, and of course boys.

We all have our own version of the chick-ionary or in my case I guess my dick-ionary.  And we live in an age where such books, such contacts are usually on our phones (and consequently our computers).

And in the digital age t has allowed us to gather more information, or a greater vocabulary to add to our dictionaries.

My girl friends always tell me I’m crazy for keeping number of like ever guy I have ever exchanged numbers with in my phone.  They never understand why I don’t delete them. My response is always that then I know who is contacting me.  The response is always the same “Well I don’t pick up unknown numbers” and the way it is always said is sorta a dig. I’m not sure what type of dig but the tone is always there.

Of course I don’t pick up unknown calls. Who really does?! The real problem is those unknown text messages.  Those really throw me for a loop. I am always to intrigued to answer back.  Thus knowing and having numbers for almost everyone I have encountered in life is important. Or at least I used to think it was…..maybe that has changed, but then again maybe it hasn’t.

SIDEBAR: I always add little notes to every contact I have to help better recognize or establish who they are. These include “works with so and so” “from Texas” “the boyfriend” “reflexology” “so and so’s bitchy girlfriend” “mommy-moo” “my best Pal” and so on….

Regardless I’ve started deleting numbers. These at the moment are mostly composed of random guys numbers, which I’ve decided I don’t need because I frankly don’t care. But for your reading enjoyment I leave you with 7 favorites of mine thus far.

Dan ( the onion ring guy from bar) yuiy8

Hj ehBehn (guys friend food likes 22 years old)

BJ hater dude (two shirt)

Shawn (not sean! old married guy in pj pants at bar) I am drunk

Aussseeettin ( guyi who knows heather)

Mikee (madeout with at 6^th wrad)

Salor Halloween man sexy (matt?)

We all have those embarrassing sex stories, those elbow to the eye, granny panties, fell off the bed, and the hit my head on a head board stories. And if you don’t have one frankly I don’t think you’re doing sex right!

But these are usually personal. One person fell off the bed, one person burped in the others mouth, and so on.

So rather then telling about what I think is an embarrassing sex story that has happened to me, and believe me there are lots! I thought I’d try to think of what awkward, funny, disastrous sex moment I’ve had that would be the other persons most embarrassing….

Some time ago I was having sex (that’s sorta has to be in this story doesn’t it) and it was good, wonderful and every word you can think of to replace “great”.

Basically, we can say I was very much enjoying myself.

He was ontop and therefore I was below him (the classic missionary) and all of a sudden I feel this strange pressure building up in my lady parts. It was odd, different, not like any feeling I’ve felt like before.

I gave him a funny face as he continued with his ‘business’.

“ummm” my face kind of twisted.

“You ok you want me to stop” he stops but still ontop of me.

“Ummm…..No, but….something feels strange.”

“Bad strange or good strange?” he seemed concerned but obviously his blood wasn’t going to his brain at this moment.

“Kind of bad strange, it kind of hurts”

He backs up, and this pressure that had been building stops, kind of rushes out of me in a strange ‘I don’t know this feeling’ kind of way. And then I notice everything is all wet….

I sorta backup, sit up, and look down.

“Did you just?….Baby! I think you peed in me?!” I say as this look of shock and embarrassment comes over him, and he hides his head and rolls over.

And I of course can do nothing but start to laugh….

SIDEBAR: Apparently guys aren’t supposed to be able to urinate while having an erection, however, my Google searches have proved otherwise….and so has this personal experience.

FACT: I guess this means I’ve dabbled in water sports, although I didn’t ask too.

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.

SIDEBAR: This is also a story I’ve sat on for a while. I’ve struggled with on so many levels, but in the end putting it out there is always best, or not. But here we go *deep breath*

You, Me, and the Stump equals three! Part One and Two!

I had noticed Elevator-Hottie since I starting working in the building 5 months ago. Ok, I didn’t notice him I straight up stared and maybe drooled at him. This man was hot, and by hot I mean HAWT!

We always seemed to be stuck in the elevator together, most times alone no matter what time of the day.

I simply chalked this up to fate!

We had exchanged a few smiles back and forth (god he had great teeth) but other then that, he watched the elevator TV and I pretended to be doing something important on my phone while I checked out his hot ass in his nice suit!

I worked late that night and as I was leaving the office around 8pm, I clicked the down button.

The door opened and there stood his tall gorgeous frame. (If I were a guy I would’ve got an instant hard on)

He smiled. I quickly looked down at my phone.

Elevator-Hottie: Can I just say something?

I looked up, mouth open from shock and stared at his beautiful face. I did not say anything, I don’t think I even nodded, but may have turned bright red.

Elevator-Hottie: You’re gorgeous! I’d love to take you to dinner sometime, if you’d like and are available.

I keep staring, drool may or may not have fallen from my mouth.

“Ummmm…(What ever I said here was most definitely babble and I fear evening thinking about it. I’ve blocked it from my memory)”

Elevator-Hottie: Can I get your card?

“Umm…yeah…sure” I fumbled for a card.

Elevator-Hottie: “I always wondered what you did at ‘the magazine with boobies’……”

His voice trailed off as he got off the elevator. I was planted firmly in my place still in shock and awe from the fact he even talked to me. ME!?! Did he just ask me out? HE asked ME, (ME?!) out!?!

The elevator doors closed!

SIDEBAR: I am an idiot!

I press the button the doors open (as I am already on the first floor). I walk out he is gone and there is Tom my favorite of our night security desk guys. “Smooth, very smooth!” He says with a smile.

I blew it! I totally blew it! Oh well.

But I get a phone call that night, and it was Elevator-Hottie. Seriously, I was now staring to believe in this ‘fate’ stuff.

Our first date was to be an after work drink. Although in all honesty I didn’t go to work till the end of day cause I was picking out the perfect outfit, getting my hair just right, doing nails, and all the girl (yes sometimes I’m like that) stuff!

We had a seemingly perfect first date. We had great conversation, I didn’t get to drunk (a usual first date flaw on my part) we ended up grabbing dinner, all in all a great date. As we were saying our goodbyes he gave me a “had a great time” accompanied by a pat on the shoulder.

He hates me. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that third drink, maybe I talked to much, I probably swore to much, maybe it’s cause I made fun of him…..urg such is my life!

But he called me. And he kept calling me.

Now Elevator-Hottie was everything you’d want in a man, especially in a Manhattan man. Tall, unbelievable handsome, very well educated, good family, owned his own apartment with a park view (and not stand on the toilet  in the bathroom tilt your head kind of view, we’re talking a view!) He had great job, and he even a summer house.

Date number 12 rolls around and the most action I’ve gotten is a peck on the lips and a pat on the back hug. And a few flower arrangements sent to my office.

I mean come on, a girl cant wait forever. In my dating world 12 dates is pretty much an engagement! So you better pony up! I was so confused by the situation, and never been in one like this before. Plus, I like sex so I was alittle upset on that front too.

I was also struggling with him because as perfect on paper as he may have been. He really didn’t make me laugh. OK, I shouldn’t say that he was funny he would make any normal girl laugh alot. But I need and want a guy who makes me spit out my drink, maybe pee my pants just alittle bit laugh! (It’s a requirement)

My friends all pushed me towards the ‘perfect on paper’ and said to ignore the other details.

Oh right, I’m forgetting that one other detail. You see for all his great perfect on paper points, there’s one little thing he didn’t have.

One quality mister-perfect-elevator-hottie-on-paper was missing.

Actually, it was more of an appendage then a quality. You see Elevator-Hottie was missing his left leg below the knee. He had a prosthetic, no leg, a whatever you want to call it………There was no leg!

So I rationalized his lack of physical contact as a shyness of his stump.

Maybe it was all scared up and nasty! Maybe it was shaped funny. Maybe he was scared I’d want to lick it during foreplay.

All I knew was if he didn’t take my pants off on this our 14th date, it’s over.

Leg or no leg : Over!

I get a Text message: Instead, why don’t you come over and we’ll order in and watch a movie.

Thank you Jesus! Come over and watch a movie IS and has always been code for come over and have sex!

But now I was terrified. I frantically spent hours googling sex with one legged men, and so on. These results turned up nothing but scary porn, and creepy craigslist ads.

This was it. You see if the sex is amazing, I guess I can get over the lack of gut hurting laugher. Plus, I was starting to really like him. NowI was more nervous then excited.

I show up at his apartment. I walk in the door and he jumps me. Wow! Like throws me against the wall, jumps me.

Where did this guy come from?

Lips are intertwined, arms are throwing and ripping off clothes. This one legged Hottie was on a mission! And his mission was me!

We take this action into the bedroom. We’re doing it, and we’re doing it. Oh and we’re doing it! And it was really great. And did I mention the view of the park from the bedroom!? The whole thing was hot and amazing!

I’m in the moment. Really in the moment, and then he decides he wants to take a trip…downtown !

And as I lay there with my eyes closed enjoying his downtown adventure I hear a soft whisper in my ear.

“She’s good isn’t she.”

I look over. I look down. I look over. I look down. I look…I look DOWN!

And there between my legs is this mass of grey hair.

I jump back! So fast and hard I hit the headboard and the back of my head started to bleed.

There at the foot of the bed is this …..Old Lady.

Now not just old, we’re talking tales from the crept, old lady boobs to her knees, fucking Old Lady OLD!

As I’m picking up my stuff I’m speechless. More shocked then when he asked me out in the elevator. I kept looking at him and his perfect body his mouth was moving, something about it being ok, how he wants me to stay. I kept looking at her with her really not perfect body saying something about how he was right I am really pretty.

And I couldn’t say anything. Maybe it was just the surprise of it, maybe it was the feeling that I was pretty much just violated by an old woman, or maybe it’s because I hit my head so hard I was pretty sure I was dying of a brain bleed. I was shaking and in shock, and just wanting to leave.

As I ran out in my jacket, one shoe and holding everything else I came in with. I walked into the bar across the street asked where the bathroom was and said I was coming back for shots!

As I put my clothes on I held back tears. I don’t know why exactly, but I had never wanted to be more loved and cherished by a man then in that moment. It sounds odd I know, but all I could think was why couldn’t I meet a nice guy, why does every guy I meet need to be an asshole douchebag or a freak. Why won’t anyone ever just love me. What was wrong with me?

Because just when you think someone is perfect on paper you realize their grandmother is doing the book keeping from inside the closet, or under the bed, or wherever one hides a walking swinger of a corpse!

My answer was basically “if you have to ask if I enjoyed it, I probably didn’t.

But it got me thinking about all my bedroom turnoffs. So in the only way I know how to approach these things, here is a list of just a few….

The Times I’ve Been Most Turned Off In Bed:

1. Exactly what is said above. Every time that question has been asked in bed it is pretty much been bad. But one time in particular sticks out the most. Let me just say, I didn’t even know we had started and he had already finished and was very prod of the fact he just may have blown my mind. Trust me if it’s good for me you will know!

2. We were laying there after the fact, maybe like 5 minutes or so. Actually scratch that, like less then a minute, he had just rolled over then he lifted his leg and farted. (This was the first time we had sex….and the last)

3. “Am I big?” Honey if you have to ask it isn’t big. Also if you draw my attention to it in that context, that is all I’m going to be thinking about the entire time as I compare you to every other one I’ve seen in my head.

4. Showering right after, and I mean right after! Is my sex sweat that gross that it can’t be on you for more then 5minutes?

5. Being told to leave right after. A lady always asks if you’d like to say, and a gentleman always invites one to stay. If you don’t invite me I’m leaving don’t worry. You don’t have to point to the door before I’ve even found my bra.

6. The fluid motion of removing clothing and putting on a condom. Some guys are pros at this. I truly believe someone teaches a class on it! I’m always in awe and shock and kind of discuss of this ability. They are undressed and protected in the blink of an eye. I wasn’t getting up and going anywhere, hold your horses for like 2minutes at least.

7. Do not; I repeat do not push my head down towards your region. I’m already making my way down there. You shoving my head down makes me not only want to Not do it, but do it with teeth!

8. Pinning me down and sweating all over me. Now I’m not saying you can’t pin me down. But if your a massive head and face sweater and I can’t move, I’m spending less time thinking about the moment and more time trying to not chock and be blinded by the salty waterfall pouring down on me!

Now unless my father asks this post is about me losing my virginity. If he asks this is a guest post by some dirty sinner! (Shame on you dirty sinner!)

People who know me are always surprised when the topic of “first times” comes up, and age is thrown on the table.

I was a late bloomer, not as late as other people I know, but to the masses I probably am.

I lost my virginity to “firstguy” when I was 19. There was nothing particular exciting, special or interesting about that evening, except I was 19. It was my birthday.

FACT: This is NOT the reason I dislike celebrating my birthday.

We were in my parent’s basement watching a movie. Braveheart, I only remember the movie cause ‘firstguy’ had a love for watching the same movies over and over again. Braveheart was one of these. I’ve seen that movie far more times then I would like to admit. (Far too many in like a two-year period)

Somewhere between Mel Gibson speaking with a Scottish accent and someone dying we had sex.

That is all I remember. No real detail about what was said or what was done, we just did more than the usual. And at that time more then the usual meant sex.

You always hear about sex hurting, and being painful and all that jazz. I don’t clearly remember that but if my memory serves me correctly I’d like to say that my first time as a girl didn’t hurt, or at least it didn’t cause me pain. But it was uncomfortable.

Kind of like when you tie your shoe too tight. You know that it doesn’t feel right, it’s alittle uncomfortable and it hurts to walk the first few steps, you know you just sense that something you did might not be right. But after that it loosens up and it’s like nothing wrong ever happened.

SIDEBAR: That analogy sounded cleaner in my head.

So there it was I was 19. One year older. I could vote, drink, and I wasn’t a virgin.

‘Firstguy’ was terrible at alot of things. Gifts were one of them, unless you count flowers. That boy bought me more flowers than Kiefer Sutherland buys rounds of shoots.

It was my birthday (and my first time) and all my boyfriend got me was cake, a Mr.Bean teddy-bear, Mel Gibson and a broken hymen.

11 TOTALLY SWOON WORTHY THINGS I LOVE ABOUT GUYS!

1.   Body Hair.  Now I’m not talking Chewbacca crawling out of your shirt attacking your face body hair. Just normal guy hair.  There is something really calming to me about the feel of arm hair, leg hair, chest hair, and so on. It’s manly and wonderful. Also, guys in general have great hair on their heads. It’s always full (for some), soft, unprocessed, and clean. (Unless they are bald or product whores I love touching a guys head of hair)

2.  Smell.  I heart a manly smell. That sweaty, musky, manly smell is something that should never be covered up. Well to a point, at some point you better be showering.  And then don’t even get me started on how great a showered guy smells.

3.  The 5 o’clock shadow. Hot damn, and oh so sexy. I even love the feel of it. Pure sex appeal dripping from tiny hair follicles, swoon indeed!

4.  Humor, hilarity, and absurdity.  Guys are funny. They just are! (when they aren’t funny it really makes my skin crawl, there needs to be an island for really unfunny men to just go and live) Guys are really good at finding the humor in a situation, and are the best for just wanting to joke around with.  They are able to poke fun at almost anything and especially themselves, and that to me is swoon worthy.

5.  Height.  I’m sorry for all those guys out there that aren’t tall. I’m sure it works for you and you’re sexy in other ways. BUT there is something extremely sexy about a guy who is taller then you.  The way you feel held while being hugged is pure awesome. Also it comes in handy for reaching things, holding umbrellas, and changing light bulbs.

6.  Balls! (both literally and figuratively) Guys push themselves and follow through. Yes there are some cowards out there but as a sex men are taught to well for lack of a better term “man up”. It’s about survival, and all things primal are HOT.  And since we are on the topic: Actual in my hand hanging down balls! Yes, physical balls!  It’s sexy to me that one of the most fragile parts of the man is just hanging out there. They carry the future of the human race in there and it’s so vulnerably put out on display, and I’m sorry but that is awesome.

7.  Problem solving.  Now I’m not talking being a “mr. fix-it” here, I’m talking life problems.  Guys always have a different take on things, a different way of looking a problem and then helping you either reach a solution. This isn’t always the best trait in men, but when I have a problem and I talk about it with a guy I come out with a different outlook in general, and always feeling very confident in what to do next.

8.  Muscles. Guys carry muscle tone so much better then girls. From arms, and backs, to shoulders and legs. Oh, and you better not get me started on those diagonal dents that run from the hipbone to the groin, jeeze louise those are hot.

9.  A Smile.  When a guy smiles at me it warms my heart.   It’s almost like they are opening up in a completely different way. Even a good smirk makes me giddy like a schoolgirl. Please note this does not apply to guys with nasty ass teeth, I really have a teeth issue, you have bad teeth you are just unsexy period. Seriously. I mean it.

10.  Penis!  Now I’m going to just put this out there: some are much more swoon worthy then others (MUCH MORE) but I’ll give all you guys the benefit of the doubt.  A nice penis is like boobs: you can never go wrong!

11.  Knowledge.  Guys know things that I don’t. Everyone is smart in his or her own way; about their own topics (even the real dumb kids) I love how I learn things from guys I never would have thought of. New things, ideas, and topics excite me. Excite me right out of my pants!