Friday, February 26, 2010

The Best In-laws Ever

I am sure you all puked in your mouths a little at that title, but please read on. I am sure most of you would agree that I do have The Best In-laws Ever.

There has been a lot of talk/complaining going on about in-laws lately, and I just couldn’t be left out of the party. The problem is, I love my in-laws. They are the best in-laws a girl could ask for. I wouldn’t want to change them for the world.

The reason they get the award as The Best In-laws Ever?

They stopped talking to Leland and I nearly 3 years ago.

If you want to know why they stopped talking to us, read the letter to my in-laws.

At first it was hard to deal with the pain of the whole situation that caused them to excommunicate us, but as time goes on it gets easier and easier. For me it was always easy. They treated me like I was dog poop getting eaten by maggots so I didn’t shed any tears at their decision to ignore our existence. I did, however, worry about Leland. I worried because no matter what they said or thought, I am a good wife. But over the past 3 years, Leland has showed me that he really doesn’t care either.

Leland’s mom has started calling him on major holidays and his birthday, but Leland so far has not called her back. I think he is happy that he doesn’t have to deal with them either. And the one time they did talk (which was shortly after I posted the letter to my in-laws) his mom didn’t want to talk about their issues, made bad comments about Leland’s brother, and never even asked about me. I guess she proved to him that she really is only thinking about herself.

Leland knows exactly how I feel about his parents, so it should come as no surprise when he sees the list I have made of why I am so lucky to have The Best In-laws Ever.

1. I don’t have to go over for awkward dinners where we pretend that we all like each other.

2. We don’t have to split holidays.

3. I don’t have to deal with a mother who tries to compete with me for his attention.

4. When the time comes, I won’t have to worry about her judging me for the way I raise my kids.

5. I don’t have to pretend that I like the birthday gift his mother has given me because I don’t even get the crappy gifts anymore.

6. The cool gifts she did give me during the short time that she was trying to like me I am now free to sell on eBay.

7. I don’t have to deal with his mom thinking that she knows Leland better than I do because frankly, she doesn’t know him at all anymore.

8. Other than the random updates we get from other family members, I can completely ignore the fact that his dad is a douchecanoe.

9. When I do get pregnant (because Leland and I have decided together that it was time, not because I was tricking him into getting me pregnant) I won’t have to tell them at all!

10. When they get old, I won’t have to worry that Leland is going to suggest that they come and live with us.

So you see, I really DO have The Best In-laws Ever. I used to have a million things to complain about when it came to Leland’s parents, but now I really do feel so lucky. They are far away, literally and figuratively, and they can’t touch me anymore.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Hump Day Hangover

Leland got home from Puerto Rico on Friday, and because we had a house full of people, we were not able to shag. Don’t worry, dear friends, by Saturday Leland was all about reaching his 700 times a year goal. We have not been following the ever so helpful guide to have sex 8 times a week, we have instead just been having whatever kind of sex we feel like.

Since Saturday we have had sex 3 times. I know, that’s not a big number at all, and if we want to reach 700 times, we really are going to have to step it up a notch.

And we are going to have to buy more lube.

On to the details…

We have been having sex in our bed, which is warm and comfy, but I think if we stick to bed sex we are going to get a little bored. We live alone, we have an entire house to ourselves, we really need to get out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Or on the couch.

Or in the shower.

Or on the dining room table.

Wait, scratch the last one. It’s a really OLD table that has been in my family for over a century and I think my dad would be pissed if we broke it having sex.


The sexercise thing is working. If I really think about what I am doing, I can feel my ab muscles working. On Sunday I worked my abs so much during sex that they hurt all day on Monday. I have no idea if Leland feels his abs working because I haven’t asked. I can tell you that he is giddy with delight to be having sex on a daily basis.

Yesterday he came home from work early with a fever and had a fever all night and he still wanted to bone. I had to say no. I am not interested in making out with someone who has a fever and a nose full of snot. Sorry. Plus, my vagina needed a break. It still rips just a little, so I thought it would be good if I let it heal for a day. And I am sure a day will be all it’s getting. Leland is feeling better today and I am ready for another killer ab workout.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Dirty Little Secrets OR a Really Sappy Post About Friendship

We all have some dirty little secrets. Well, at least I did until I started this blog. Now it seems everyone knows everything about me, including my mother, who I am sure was just fine not knowing every little detail of my sex life. Sorry to ruin that for you mom.

With everything I have put out there for the world to read, there is one thing that I haven’t mentioned. Perhaps I have kept this dirty little secret for so long because I am slightly embarrassed. Maybe it is because I was afraid of being judged. It’s possible I haven’t said anything because I am not the same person I was during the time the dirty little secret took place.

In any case, I am ready to divulge.

I was a pageant girl.

You read that correctly. When I was 16 I participated in the Miss Woodstock pageant in my town.

At that age, I was much more open to things like that. I was a cheerleader after all.

Everything people say about pageants are absolutely true. Of course, no one involved calls them beauty pageants. They are scholarship pageants.

Even back then I didn’t believe that bullshit. No one traipses on stage, competing against other girls to win $1000. We did it because we wanted to wear the crown and move on to the county-wide pageant which would then hopefully take us to the state pageant.

I think there were 16 girls competing the year I ran. I could lie and say they were all really sweet and we became lifelong friends like most pageant girls do, but you all know how I like to be honest.

They were not sweet girls. Of course they were nice to my face but at one time or another they all came to me to complain about other girls. Yes, I was a pageant girl, but I was not stupid.

There was one girl in the group who wasn’t bitchy though. Amy was fun and outgoing and would rather laugh than be mean to someone. Somehow in the midst of the madness that was pageant rehearsals, we managed to become friends. After rehearsals we would go out for pie and laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. Yes, we even gossiped about the other girls (I never said I was perfect). Eventually Amy started picking me up on her way to practice and dropping me off after. We exchanged phone numbers and soon started spending time together outside of pageant rehearsals.

It has been 12 years since our pageant days and we are still friends. Every once in a while we’ll reflect on those days and shake our heads in shame. But as much as we like to laugh about it, we never forget that it was the pageant that brought us together. We had lived in the same town our whole lives, we had several mutual friends, we went to several of the same parties and she had friends that lived around the corner from me, but we never met.

After the pageant she went away to college and I stayed home and started senior year of high school. We talked nearly every day and I went to visit her as often as I could. I was the made-of-honor in her wedding and she was a bridesmaid in mine.

Now that we are older, it’s hard for us to see each other as much as we would like. She now lives an hour away and has her own family. Though I don’t talk to Amy as much as I would like, I know she is there and will be there whenever I need her. We play really epic games of phone tag, but when we connect it is as though not a day has gone by.

Last week Amy turned 30 and I was lucky enough to see her twice in one week. I don’t think that has happened since the year she lived in Woodstock after college, which had to be at least 8 years ago. I don’t know when I will be seeing her again, but I know I am in her heart, just as she is in mine.

Oh, and since I know you are all DYING to know, neither Amy or I won the pageant. The title of Miss Woodstock 1998 went to one of the bitchy girls.

Friday, February 19, 2010

The Answer to Weight Loss

In case you didn’t know, Leland is OBSESSED with staying as fit as possible. Though he is pretty trim, has large muscles and works out on a regular basis, he is always looking for ways to step it up a notch. He is determined to have a 6-pack before he turns 30.

Last week as we were driving home from work, he told me about this article he found at The article was a list of 25 things men can do to stay in shape.

I was all ears. Leland loves talking about new exercises and new things he can do to trim his mid-section so I was anxious to hear what he was going to try next. Since I have known him he has tried some interesting things to earn the elusive 6-pack including, but not limited to, eating only 400 calories a day, eating nothing but salmon for a month, doing 1000 crunches a day, and taking protein and creatine shakes.

Even after trying all of those things, he has found that working out a lot and eating a lot of protein works best for him. I think the only reason he doesn’t have a 6-pack is because he likes to drink and have a good time on the weekends.

Anyway, back to the article that has given Leland his newest idea.

“The article says I should be having sex 700 times a year,” Leland said.

That’s right. 700 times a year!

Humoring him, I said, “Really? What did the article say about it?”

He then went on to tell me how men who have sex 700 times a year look ten years younger than those who don’t. Sex burns calories, reduces stress, increases endorphins, and is just all around good for you. He even said that the article had a 7 day schedule for sex.

Lucky me.

The man who gets more random boners than most 16 year old boys now wants to have sex 700 times a year. That’s nearly 2 times a day. And if you account for the 4 days a month when Leland doesn’t even want to be in the same room as me, that makes it 2.2 times a day.

Like I said, he LITERALLY gets about 10 random boners a day. Now this article has given him more ammunition for talking me into using those random boners.

I tried to reason with him. I tried to tell him that the article was written by a man, for men to read in a men’s magazine. OF COURSE they are going to say that sex is the answer to weight loss.

But it didn’t work.

Nope, he thinks this is the money idea. He just knows that this will bring the desired results. He even promised me I would see results of my own.

Again, lucky me.

Now don’t get me wrong. You all know I enjoy sex with Leland, but…well, I guess I just never expected sex to turn into exercise. I don’t know about you, but I am definitely not one of those women who LOVES exercise.

If you don’t hear from me for a while it’s because I am VERY BUSY having sex. And when I am not having sex, I will most likely be too tired to do anything else.

And please, check out the 7 day schedule. That way you can follow along and know exactly what kind of sex I am having on any given day.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

The Battle Book

I don't have anything planned for today. I am off of work so I can support a good friend at her Grandfather's funeral so I will not be spending all day on the computer like I usually do. So since I don't have anything interesting to read, please stop by:


I promise she has interesting stuff to read.

And if you don't stop by you will have to deal with my wrath. That doesn't sound like any fun, does it?

Really, I'm not threatening you. But check her out. She's hot.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Getting Caught

I got home from work tonight and decided to sit down and check my blog before I started doing chores. Leland is in sunny Puerto Rico for work and I know how he hates coming home to a messy house, so I have decided to do a little cleaning every day so I don't have to run around like a crazy person on Thursday night.

Anyway, I was reading a few comments I had and noticed the last comment was from Mimi. MIMI IS MY MOTHER.

As I am sure you are all aware, the last post I wrote was about SEX.

My mom had told me that she doesn't read the posts I write with the words "sex" or "BJ" in the title.

I guess she changed her mind this time.

Here is the comment she left for me: Now, Yankee Girl, don't think your parents didn't know what goes on in their house. After all, you weren't a teenager, we were just a roof over your head until you went on your own. And we didn't see the condom pkg.

So I guess our mad rush up the was worth it, but then I just blew the secret by posting it on my blog. AWESOME. Don't worry, this won't keep me from writing explicit things in the future. She can handle it.

I got a good laugh out of the comment though and then called my mom. Always a good sport, she just laughed along with me. She then told me she will usually start reading my posts and then stop if they get to raunchy. I guess I just didn't add enough detail to the post and she kept reading.

Oh well. Not a big deal. My mom knows how I am and after a few glasses of wine I usually end up telling her too much anyway. I have a very cool mom and although she probably doesn't LOVE hearing me talk about my sex life, she lets me say what I want and still loves me and respects me later.

And if that comment she left wasn't enough proof of her coolness factor, let me also add a few other things that we have talked about:

1. Camel Toe
2. Moose knuckle
3. Skull-fucking
4. Beer bongs
5. My new decision to try writing for porn magazines.

Although most of those things were initially brought up by Leland, who loves to bring up topics like this just to get a rise out of my mother, she goes with the flow very well.

And SHE was the one to bring up CAMEL TOE.

So to my mother, Mimi, welcome to reading my sex stories. I know you may not like to hear about them, but always remember I am who I am because of YOU.

Friday, February 12, 2010

A Valentine's Day Sex Story

A new blog carnival has been posted by Elizabeth at Confessions From a Working Mom. The assignment was to tell people of your top three Valentine's Day stories. Here is my Top 3 Thursday, the Friday edition. Since I don’t really have 3 Valentine’s Day stories worth sharing, I am only going to share one.

Come back in time with me for a little while….

Valentine’s Day, February 2003

Leland and I had been dating for a few months and this was our first Valentine’s Day together so I wanted to have some alone time. The problem? We were both living with our parents. So I did what any horny 22 year old would do: I bought them a gift certificate to a restaurant and sent them out to dinner.

I planned a meal to make for Leland, and for the life of me I can’t remember what I made except for french onion soup. I know, who makes a romantic dinner with onions? But Leland loves french onion soup so I made it for the very first time that night.

I set the table with a red table cloth, sprinkled heart confetti on the table, and lit some candles. When I was done making dinner I put on a sexy dress I borrowed from my sister that barely covered my ass and waited for Leland’s arrival.

We sat down to eat dinner, and to be honest, it was a little uncomfortable. I am sure you all know that Leland and I are not the romantic type. The food was decent, except for the french onion soup. I followed the directions to the letter and it still tasted like smelly feet. So not romantic. Leland ate it anyway to make me happy.

After dinner we put the food away and then immediately Leland started putting on the moves. So we had sex. Lots and lots of sex all over my parent’s kitchen. We were on the sink, the counter, the stove, up against the wall and even on the floor. It seemed Leland cared less about the dinner and more about removing the slutty dress I borrowed from my sister. After we had worn out the kitchen, we went to my bedroom that was located in the basement.

A little while later we heard my parents come home. We stayed in bed for a few minutes, deciding when would be a good time to go upstairs and say hello to my parents because we didn’t want them to think we were having sex. At this point my parents still thought I was saving myself for marriage. I really didn’t feel like bursting that bubble for them on that night.

Seconds later Leland shot up in bed and frantically started getting dressed.

“What’s the hurry?” I asked.

“Your parents are home and we left condom wrappers all over the kitchen,” Leland said.

At this point I was on my feet, trying to find the clothes my parents had seen me in before they left. I wasn’t sure where we had left all of the condom wrappers, but was pretty sure there were at least two on the table.

The table that had a red table cloth on it.

A red table cloth that would make the condom wrappers impossible to miss.

And my parents always came in the house through the back door the led directly into the kitchen.

We both got dressed in lightening time and booked our asses upstairs. Somehow in the short amount of time we decided that I would talk to my parents and try to distract them from the kitchen as Leland gathered all of the evidence.

By the time we got upstairs, both of my parents were sitting in the living room. They were surprisingly calm. They told me about their dinner, said they had a nice time, and then asked how our night was. I wasn’t sure if my mom was trying to set me up to be caught, or if they really didn’t see the mess we left behind. I said it was nice, we had fun, and that Leland was cleaning up the kitchen as we spoke. My parents both got up to say hello to Leland and walked in the kitchen as he was shoving the last wrapper in his pocket.

Then they decided we should all have a drink together, which was a great idea because at that point I really needed something strong to take the edge off.

To this day I have no idea if my parents saw the mess. And since my mom doesn’t read my blogs with the words “sex” or “BJ” in the title (thank goddess), I won’t find out now either.

And that is totally okay with me.

In other business, the winners of my 100 follower giveaway have been drawn! The winners are Cathy at Antsy Pants, Tracy at Iced Karma Coffee, and Sarah at The Anti-Journalist. Please send me an email with your address so I know where to send the gift card you have chosen! Thanks to everyone for participating!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Is This What I Have to Look Forward To?

On Monday I took a different way home from work because I didn’t have to pick up Leland. He stayed home sick. Don’t worry, he’s not really sick. He was just tired and wanted to clean the house.

Anyway, as I was driving home I got stopped by a commuter train. Whenever I don’t have to pick up Leland I always try to race home to beat the train. On Monday I wasn’t fast enough and ending up sitting for a few minutes waiting for the train to unload passengers and leave the station.

As I was sitting there ever so impatiently, I saw an old woman walking up to the tracks. She was OLD. She was wearing a plastic bag tied around her head and big black sunglasses that made her look like a fly. I saw her look back and forth across the tracks several times and started to get nervous.

Are you fucking kidding me, I thought to myself. If you cross those tracks and get hit by the train I will be scarred for life and may never be able to get a good nights sleep again. You better not fucking cross those tracks!

I actually thought about rolling down my window and yelling at her but for some reason I didn’t. Maybe I thought I was overreacting.

I took my eyes off of the old woman and glanced over at the train station. I saw the train lurch forward and start moving. This made me so happy because I was eager to get home. My happiness only lasted for a split second because I saw the old woman approach the tracks. I saw her walk around the gate that had flashing lights all over it and walk onto the tracks.

I immediately started screaming. People in other cars started screaming. People on the street started screaming.

But the old lady seemed to not hear any of it or simply didn’t care.

The train let out a super loud whistle, over and over again.

But the little old lady just kept crossing the tracks. She didn’t seem to be in any big hurry either.

She made it to the other side of the tracks with no more than three feet to spare. It wasn’t until she cleared the tracks that I realized I had been holding my breath.

Really people? Is this what we have to look forward to when we get older? Will I eventually get to a time in my life that I forgot to obey train gates and flashing lights? Will a time come that I cannot even hear the ridiculously loud horn on a train? I am the most impatient person in the world but there is no way in hell I would ever cross the train tracks when the gates are down and the lights are flashing. I have to work like hell to remember that when I am older.

Yes, it was cold outside and I am sure this old woman just wanted to get home, but come on. You made it this far in your life, do you really want to die by getting smashed by a train?

Probably not.

Monday, February 8, 2010

The Fever

I was reading a blog on Friday and I literally lost control of myself at work. One minute I was happy and excited for the weekend and the next I was bawling my eyes out at my desk. I was doing that really hard crying where it is hard to breathe and controlling the snot coming out of your nose is not an option. It really was not pretty. Lucky for me the boss was out of the office when it happened.

What was the big deal, you may ask?


The Single Girl wrote this really beautiful story of the birth of her daughter and I lost it less than half way through.

I don’t have babies.

I really, really want babies.

Even though Leland and I always use a condom, I cry every time I get my period. I secretly (now not so secretly) hope that the condom will break. I want to get pregnant so badly that it hurts.

I posted a while back about how frustrating it is when people ask me when I am going to have kids and honestly, the only reason it bothers me is because I am afraid I will start crying.

Leland knows how I feel but he is trying to be rational and logical about having babies. He wants to wait until we are in a better financial position. He wants the market to turn so we can sell our house because neither of us really wants to have a baby in our house. He wants to make sure he is absolutely 100% sure he is ready to be a daddy.

I understand how he feels but am starting to get impatient.

(What is written above was written on Friday in the midst of my emotional breakdown. The rest was written this morning when I have a much clearer head.)

It amazes me how the desperate need for a baby comes and goes. On Friday, I couldn’t think of anything else. I spent the afternoon calling a ton of girlfriends in order to calm down. But since it was a Friday afternoon and everyone was working, I called Danny. So not a woman but he did his very best to channel his inner estrogen and act like a girlfriend.

And he was awesome and wonderful and made everything better.

We spent this past weekend visiting some friends in Michigan. We picked up Donnie and Annette on the way and drove the 6 hours to see Adam and Janice. It was a pretty low key weekend that consisted of a lot of drinking, beer bongs, greasy yet delicious pizza, playing games and waking up hung over.

On the drive home, Donnie and Annette slept in the back seat while Leland kept me company up front. We were listening to some music and chatting quietly and I realized that I love it when it is just us. We were talking about things we needed to do for our road trip, stuff we wanted to get done this week, we laughed about some of the things that happened over the weekend. As I was driving and holding his hand I realized that while I do want to have babies soon, I don’t think I want them too soon. I do like the way my life is and do want to be able to spend some more time with Leland without any little monsters running around.

Now it’s Monday morning and I am fine. I actually feel a little silly for getting so upset on Friday. Yes, I want a baby. I have never kept that a secret from anyone. I guess there will just be times when it bothers me that I don’t have one yet and times when it won’t. What I have to make sure I do is enjoy every single moment that I have left without children because once they come I will not be able to get that freedom back.

I am sure I’ll have more emotional breakdowns in the future, but for now, this one is under wraps. Leland is going to be out of town for work next week and I am looking forward to the time to myself. I am looking forward to the awesome summer that Leland and I have planned. I am looking forward to being good to myself and taking better care of myself. For now, it’s just me and Leland.

And I am happy about that.

Friday, February 5, 2010

100 Followers! A Giveaway and an Award!

I started this blog a little over a year ago with hopes that a few people other than my husband and family members would read it and think it was cool. Today I am sitting here typing this, psyched out of my mind that I have 103 people who follow this blog.

When did that happen?

How did that happen?

Whatever the answers to those questions are, I am grateful. I never thought that my small anecdotes about sex and my vagina, things my crazy husband says and does, and all sorts of other randomness would attract so many people and keep them coming back for more.

I thought I would have repulsed all of you when I told you about my ripped vagina.

I thought you would have surely left when I told you about the real reason Santa wears red.

I thought you would quietly walk away after telling you about a crazy dream I had.

But no. Instead, I just got more followers and more comments.

I really am so lucky to have all of you. Thanks to everyone who has helped make my blog what it is today. I wouldn’t be here without any of you.

Because you are all so awesome, you will get what has been coming to you for a long time: awards and a giveaway!

First, I have been given an award that needs to be passed on.

The Happy 101 award has been given to me by Cathy at Antsy Pants!

I'm supposed to list 10 things that make me happy and try to do at least one of them today. Then link back to the person that tagged me and tag 10 other bloggers who brighten my day.
Ten things that make me giddy with delight:
1. Not having zits. For some reason my body thinks it is going through puberty again and I have been dealing with a ton of zits lately. Okay, maybe not a ton, but one or two at a time. As of right now, I don’t have any! Yay!
2. Watching The Office. And LOST.
3. Watching the numbers on the scale get smaller and smaller.
4. The feeling I get right after I work out. I don’t like working out and will complain all the way through a workout, but once it is over I feel awesome.
5. HOT, sunny weather. Oh when will you be coming back to me?
6. A venti unsweetened black tea lemonade from Starbucks.
7. Having a working computer at home again. I spent 5 long months without one!
8. My dog, Bacchus. He is so cute and easy to love.
9. Sushi. Good sushi, that is. I have had my share of bad sushi and that does not make me happy.
10. Wine. Red, white, rose or blush, I do not care. I love it all.

I will definitely be doing some wine-ing today!

The rules say to pass on the award to 10 bloggers who brighten my day. Well, rules were meant to be broken, right? The problem is that I have way more than 10 blogs that brighten my day. Listing all of those would take forever, and since this is a post thanking all of my wonderful followers, I am going to pass this award to 10 bloggers who I think are awesome and deserve to have a ton more readers. So click on the links and check them out and follow them too!

1. Baby and Tot Tales: Swizzle is my big sister and the person who got me into blogging. She had her blog first and in true little sister fashion, as soon as I found out about her blog I HAD to have one of my own! She was also my very first follower!
2. Iced Karma Coffee
3. High-Heeled Love
4. And I thought I loved you then…
5. Intense Guy: He was one of my first followers and leaves the most awesome comments!
6. Just Another Manic Mommy
7. The Anti-Journalist
8. The Battle Book
9. The Start-up Wife
10. She Don’t Make False Claims

You will all be missing out if you don’t check out their blogs!

As for the giveaway, I will be giving away a $15 gift card to 3 lucky winners. The winners will be able to choose a Starbucks, Fandango, Borders, Barnes and Noble, or an gift card. I know gift cards are a little boring, but coffee, movies and books definitely are not. Plus then there is something for everyone!

All you have to do to enter is leave a comment letting me know which gift card you would like to win.
Following me counts for one extra entry. If you do follow me, make sure to remind me in a comment. I will do three separate drawings on February 12.

Thanks so much to all of you for making blogging awesome for me!

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Lift Your Skirts a Little

I am all about the sisterhood of women.

When I tell people this, they usually don’t believe me. It surprises people to know that there is a woman who doesn’t feel like she needs to be in competition with another woman. For me, it’s hard enough to keep up with things I want to do for myself and for my family, I simply do not have time to worry about what other people are doing and try to keep up with them. Aren’t we supposed to be taking care of ourselves anyway? Keeping track of what other people are doing just makes me lose sight of myself.

It also surprises people to know that there is a woman who refrains from placing judgment on other people. Again, I know that there are probably hundreds of people who have judged me from one glance. I am sure this happens routinely when one of Leland’s bands is playing a show. It isn’t difficult to spot when girls are talking about you, and I am almost 100% sure that they are commenting on how someone who is so hot can be with the overweight girl. I don’t like it when people judge me so I prefer not to do that to other people.

I am not saying I am perfect at the whole non-judging thing. Admittedly there are times when negative thoughts about other women slip out of my mind. When this happens though, I really don’t like it. And then I start to feel bad.

Take for example, the word slut.

Slut. Every woman has her own, slightly varying, definition of this word. Some people base it on attitude and how they carry themselves, others base it on a woman’s level of promiscuity. Most always, people are believed to be sluts depending on what they wear. As women, it is very easy to get caught up in the judgment game. Don’t deny it; we have all done it at one time or another. We have all given a random woman a backwards glance, a glance of disapproval, a glance of disgust, simply because we did not like what she was wearing. Running through our heads, we hear the word chanting in the background, like angry men cheering on a team at a college football game. We chant slut! Slut! Slut!

Quietly at first, but gradually getting louder. Slut! Slut! Slut!

Until we can’t take it anymore and we are screaming the word in our mind. SLUT! SLUT! SLUT!

Then we pass the unknowing woman and think to ourselves at least I have class.

Right, whatever that means after we just brand a woman based solely on how she looks.

The word “slut” has many meanings and connotations. The most popular meaning refers to someone, usually women, who have many sexual partners. However, a slut can also be someone who goes out a lot at night, someone who talks easily to men, someone who is confident, and someone who likes the way her ass looks in a tight pair of jeans. With all of these definitions, it is difficult for women to escape the assertion of being a slut. It seems the only way for a woman to avoid being tagged in a negative way is to be shy, marry young, and wear loose fitting clothes.

There are many problems with judging someone based on how they dress. It is rude, elitist, and superficial. It is also a waste of time because the way a person dresses is not an accurate prediction of a person’s behavior. Different women feel comfortable wearing different attire. Just because someone is comfortable wearing a push-up bra and four inch heels does not and should not automatically make them a slut. And women who let their bra strap slip out from underneath their tank tops are not the only people who should not be judged.

This theory works for everyone.

Just because someone is wearing a flowing skirt and flip-flops does not necessarily mean she is more approachable than someone wearing a business suit. The woman in the skirt may look friendlier, but she may very well want to be left alone to do what she needs to do. Just because I dress all sweet and innocent does not mean that’s who I am on the inside.

You all know for sure that I lost my innocence a long time ago.

Please, please, please do not come up to me in the grocery store and ask to talk to me about the Bible. Please, please, please do not approach me and ask if I would like to open an account at your bank. I may look friendly, but then after I tell you that I will only listen to what you have to say if you can list the first 8 presidents in order, you then decide that I am a bitch.

And then that makes me decide that you are stupid because you can’t only NOT name the first 8 presidents, you can’t even name the first three. And like I said before, judging you just makes me feel bad about myself.

See? It can be a never-ending cycle.

It is never a good idea to judge someone on their appearance no matter how much leg they are showing.

Other than the aforementioned wearing loose clothes, there is little we can do to dissociate ourselves with the term “slut.” The best thing to do is embrace it. Be confident. The only way to end the reign of negativity among women is to decide that all women can be confident, all women can be smart, and all women can be sexy. Wear anything, get a boob job, and don’t worry about what others think. Each woman needs to do what is best for her, regardless of how others view her decisions. With any luck, we can change the way the world sees promiscuous women. If women stopped being afraid of being a slut the term will either disappear or will become a word that women see as a compliment.

There is nothing wrong with being confident, smart and sexy.

So lift your skirts a little, ladies. Let’s all be sluts.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Bears, Beets, Battlestar Gallactica

I am having a hard time staying awake at work today. I usually get bored at work and start to get a little tired after lunch, but today I can hardly hold my head up.


Because Leland and I have been staying up late watching episodes of The Office.

A few weeks ago a friend lent us the first season. After watching all six episodes in the first season in one sitting, we decided to watch the remaining 4 ½ seasons as quickly as possible.

Well, it wasn’t actually a conscious decision. We just thought it was funny and quite possibly the best show on television and just couldn’t stop watching.

We literally couldn’t stop watching. When our friend lent us seasons 2 & 3, we thought it would be enough to get us through a weekend.


We finished both seasons in the matter of a couple of days and couldn’t wait till our friend got back from his vacation a few days later to get season 4. I made Leland get season 4 for us immediately so we could keep watching. We finished seasons 4 & 5 in just a couple days.

Now we are trying to catch up with the 6th season. Since it’s not on DVD and NBC only has a few of the more recent episodes on their website, Leland and I had to do a little searching to find the first several episodes of the current season. We were able to find them all at, but Leland was not interested in paying $1.99 for each episode.

You know what happened next?

We had a fight about whether or not we should spend the money to watch the episodes. I realize that saving money is always better than spending, but I wanted to watch The Office.

So I did what I had to do to get Leland to agree to spend the money.

I pouted.

And pouted.

And pouted enough for him to realize that if he didn’t acquiesce he would have to deal with me pouting for the rest of the night.

A half hour later we were back at the computer, downloading episodes of The Office from season 6.

Can you blame me for acting like a baby? I mean, come on, who wouldn’t want a little dose of Dwight K. Schrute?

And as much as Michael Scott annoys the hell out of me, I can’t help but keep watching. Watching Michael Scott try to run a business is like not being able to turn away from a car wreck. It’s scary and disturbing but turning away is just not an option.

I love me some Jim and Pam, but I am secretly in love with Dwight and Andy and hope one day I can have them both for a threesome.

It would most likely be weird and awkward, but I am fairly certain they could give me some good lovin.

And then I could tell Angela that I had sex with both of them as well!

If you don't watch this show, give it some serious thought. Just make sure you have a big chunk of time available because once you get started, I promise you will not be able to stop.