This word, at this point in my life, evokes no emotion. I don't allow myself to feel it, to make others feel it, or to allow it to touch me or those around me. But, I was reminded today that some people don't care about the power that shame carries when you intentionally try to make someone feel it.
I got an email from a long lost friend and in that email he told me how he'd found me. That someone had sent him a nasty email about me. Someone that I'd trusted with information about me. And, really, if I am close to you, you will now everything about me. I am transparent and open in order to forge the kinds of relationships that I want and need in my life; the transparent and open kind, of course.
This person said bad things, pointed him to my site, etc. all in order to shame me.
First, in order to shame me I'd have to be embarrassed about the choice I've made to engage in this extracurricular activity. I'm not. Secondly, the person doing the shaming assumes that my values are the same as hers. Clearly they are not.
In her misguided attempt to make me feel bad and embarrassed, and failing, she came across as petty, mean and spiteful (to me anyway), and I wondered what her motivation was. Sort of. I really wondered for a moment what she gained from it, I mean, she could stand on the highest point on earth and shout the transgressions she thinks I've committed over a loud speaker to every human being that lives and I still wouldn't feel shame, but why? I don't have an answer to that question, and quite frankly I'm happy I don't. Because to understand why would mean I understood her and I can live without that kind of knowledge.
So, after spending all of 20 seconds pondering the hatefulness of this person I went back to my glorious life and left the momentary pity I felt for someone so vengeful behind. She no longer has any presence in my life in any way.
I say all that to say that what I do is not shameful, I love what I do. What you do with me is far from shameful. I think the intoxication of lust and all its manifestations are incredible and life affirming. When I share myself with you it is beautiful and OKAY. There is no shame in beauty. There just isn't.
Life is so short, so finite. As long as I know this and remember it then I will live my life in the way that brings me the most pleasure, the most joy and the most fulfillment. And right now, it's this.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Fine Line
There is such a fine line that I walk when it comes to my relationships with my friends in this business. On one hand I enjoy the company very much, on the other hand it's hard to say where to draw the line between my personal self and my professional self and it's beginning to be cause for reflection on what I want and need and what I'm able to give.
I am who you see. There is nothing fabricated about me except the 'Nikki Irish' persona, and even that is 99% authentic. I am Irish, etc. I try to stick as close to my authentic self as possible without giving away my personal information because authenticity is important to me. You won't ever see me staring off into space wondering what color I want my nails at my next manicure. I am present and I am real.
The problem comes in when I don't draw the line between the fantasy we share and my real life. I am truly interested in my friend's lives. I do enjoy hearing from you and knowing you're thinking about me. But with some there is a paradigm shift that occurs that sometimes I feel helpless to prevent and this is where the 'fine line' comes into play.
That is because being Southern means that I'm a giver. We are, by our nature, nurturers. At least that's the way I was raised. I was taught that it's impolite to assert yourself or express your feelings. As much as I'm very proud of my heritage, sometimes it fails me. I am working on evolving every day (as expressed in the blog prior to this one) and trying to be my best self without compromising my oh so important client/provider relationships or myself in the process. That has been very difficult.
The black and white of this is that this is a profession that I've chosen. As a Type B personality it suits me to a 'T.' I am afforded the privilege of having an immense amount of fun with a really hot physical twist while earning a living doing it. There is nothing I'm more suited for. I'm also an empathetic, engaged partner truly interested in who you are and focused on our dynamic together. I am this way with anything I do.
Having said that I am also very discreet. I don't contact anyone unless I am specifically asked to do that by way of mailing list or an email to me that asks for a response. I would never, nor have I ever, initiated unwanted contact. I consider my integrity about this to be unimpeachable.
I enjoy the occasional email from you, though, or text saying that I'm thought of. I love the little notes that show I'm on your radar and you think of me. I much prefer sexy notes to 'love' ones (we all know I am not ever going to move into the place of 'significant other' so we should avoid those).
I want this to be a fantasy. I don't want to replace anyone, I don't want to intrude on your life. I want to be this happy, sexy place you come to when the world stresses you out, when you need to breathe in something sweet and sensual, when you want to get away from it all. And not to dampen all the hot talk about our bodies and what happens when they 'collide,' but there is a value to that.
So, I suppose this is where I set the parameters of our relationship and then we go back to our incredibly, mutually beneficial relationship. Fun!
I will explain this as delicately as possible: my time is incredibly important to me. I mean, really important. I understand how finite it is and I value it deeply. That being said, when I am not with you I will always have time for a short, sexy note back to you. Always. I will always respond to you in caring and interested ways within reason. I will text you and I will be available to you within reason. I will take your phone calls with advance notice and speak to you for short periods of time within reason. In return I must see you, spend time with you and maintain a relationship that is beneficial to me. While I love hearing from you this is still a relationship built on a certain agreement; we must always respect that.
I, in return, respect you and your desire to be with me and that sometimes your attraction steps outside the bounds of the normal relationship that we have entered into, and it flatters me greatly. Thank you. I am so grateful for your time and attention, you make doing this so incredible. There is the unfortunate place, however, where I need reciprocation. I am sure you understand.
I apologize to anyone I have offended. We have appreciated each other's company and have had so many good times; I don't want to negate that. I just need to be a little more aware of how much time I spend on myself from now on. I appreciate your understanding more that I can ever say.
I am who you see. There is nothing fabricated about me except the 'Nikki Irish' persona, and even that is 99% authentic. I am Irish, etc. I try to stick as close to my authentic self as possible without giving away my personal information because authenticity is important to me. You won't ever see me staring off into space wondering what color I want my nails at my next manicure. I am present and I am real.
The problem comes in when I don't draw the line between the fantasy we share and my real life. I am truly interested in my friend's lives. I do enjoy hearing from you and knowing you're thinking about me. But with some there is a paradigm shift that occurs that sometimes I feel helpless to prevent and this is where the 'fine line' comes into play.
That is because being Southern means that I'm a giver. We are, by our nature, nurturers. At least that's the way I was raised. I was taught that it's impolite to assert yourself or express your feelings. As much as I'm very proud of my heritage, sometimes it fails me. I am working on evolving every day (as expressed in the blog prior to this one) and trying to be my best self without compromising my oh so important client/provider relationships or myself in the process. That has been very difficult.
The black and white of this is that this is a profession that I've chosen. As a Type B personality it suits me to a 'T.' I am afforded the privilege of having an immense amount of fun with a really hot physical twist while earning a living doing it. There is nothing I'm more suited for. I'm also an empathetic, engaged partner truly interested in who you are and focused on our dynamic together. I am this way with anything I do.
Having said that I am also very discreet. I don't contact anyone unless I am specifically asked to do that by way of mailing list or an email to me that asks for a response. I would never, nor have I ever, initiated unwanted contact. I consider my integrity about this to be unimpeachable.
I enjoy the occasional email from you, though, or text saying that I'm thought of. I love the little notes that show I'm on your radar and you think of me. I much prefer sexy notes to 'love' ones (we all know I am not ever going to move into the place of 'significant other' so we should avoid those).
I want this to be a fantasy. I don't want to replace anyone, I don't want to intrude on your life. I want to be this happy, sexy place you come to when the world stresses you out, when you need to breathe in something sweet and sensual, when you want to get away from it all. And not to dampen all the hot talk about our bodies and what happens when they 'collide,' but there is a value to that.
So, I suppose this is where I set the parameters of our relationship and then we go back to our incredibly, mutually beneficial relationship. Fun!
I will explain this as delicately as possible: my time is incredibly important to me. I mean, really important. I understand how finite it is and I value it deeply. That being said, when I am not with you I will always have time for a short, sexy note back to you. Always. I will always respond to you in caring and interested ways within reason. I will text you and I will be available to you within reason. I will take your phone calls with advance notice and speak to you for short periods of time within reason. In return I must see you, spend time with you and maintain a relationship that is beneficial to me. While I love hearing from you this is still a relationship built on a certain agreement; we must always respect that.
I, in return, respect you and your desire to be with me and that sometimes your attraction steps outside the bounds of the normal relationship that we have entered into, and it flatters me greatly. Thank you. I am so grateful for your time and attention, you make doing this so incredible. There is the unfortunate place, however, where I need reciprocation. I am sure you understand.
I apologize to anyone I have offended. We have appreciated each other's company and have had so many good times; I don't want to negate that. I just need to be a little more aware of how much time I spend on myself from now on. I appreciate your understanding more that I can ever say.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Evolution
If there's one thing I'm very proud of in my life, it's that I've been able to evolve as a human in almost every way. Evolution, by its nature, is change, and change is hard. No doubt about that. And it's been hard for me every step of the way.
Who doesn't love the comfort of things familiar? I know I do. But clinging to the familiar to the exclusion of change and growth is limiting and self defeating and I refuse to allow that to happen in my life.
And, so, with that out there I segue into my moving to Arizona.
Some have seen the progression of my life and asked in wonderment why I feel the need to live many different places. I don't know that I have an answer. I don't think 12 states is that many especially considering I was part of a military relationship in my life and was condemned to moving some places. Other moves were done on a whim, but I have yet to regret one single move I've made.
I suppose that doesn't really answer the 'why' of moving to Arizona so I'll expand on that.
This all, of course, revolves around Vegas. It is exactly what you see: shiny, loud, carnival-like. But what you don't see is the seedy underbelly and the magnetic attraction it has to dysfunctional people.
It can be, in isolated areas (Mt. Charleston, Red Rocks, Hot Springs, etc.) very beautiful and peaceful. Those are a few exceptions to the rule that Vegas is actually a throw-away spot. You come, get drunk, vomit on the sidewalks, lose your money and go home. There isn't a huge appreciation for what the city does have to offer away from the strip. And, truthfully, it doesn't offer much. For such an almost world-class city it has no museums, not much of historical significance (and the little it does have most don't care about), or anything that most cities as popular have. And, I'm here to live my life, not just exist in a mundane city careless about what it projects.
The fact that it's main draw is tourism should tell you what kind of people thrive here. Carny-like (see above), aimless, lost and never looking for anything more than what's right in front of their faces.
I'm not one to generalize, usually, I think smart people usually don't (yes, I was saying I'm smart), but Vegas is my exception. I've never met a bigger group of people more alike. Of course, the transiency of Vegas is a huge part of the problem. No one is actually from there (and the ones that are HATE the people who move there), there are no roots to cling to, there is no sense of community, it's like one big stage for Cops.
So, I'm not those people, I don't intend to ever be someone that could stay in a place so unaware of its own ugliness that I become part of it. I will miss the friends I've made and the relationships I've formed, but not much else.
Arizona, however, offers me the comfort of family (very close family), the ability to watch a football game (you have no idea how much you miss it until you can't do it), museums and art, beauty and affordability. It's a classier Vegas (and Vegas seethes with envy over that fact) and the people are incredibly kind and accessible. I love that part the most.
I also have a very close relationship there with someone I care about deeply, someone that I have a great future with and I'm excited to explore that.
So, I'm sorry that I can't stay in Vegas, but not that sorry. I'm happy to be following my happiness once again. Phoenix seems a more permanent move as well. So, join me in saying good-bye to this phase of my life, and onto a different one.
I'll see you in Phoenix!
Who doesn't love the comfort of things familiar? I know I do. But clinging to the familiar to the exclusion of change and growth is limiting and self defeating and I refuse to allow that to happen in my life.
And, so, with that out there I segue into my moving to Arizona.
Some have seen the progression of my life and asked in wonderment why I feel the need to live many different places. I don't know that I have an answer. I don't think 12 states is that many especially considering I was part of a military relationship in my life and was condemned to moving some places. Other moves were done on a whim, but I have yet to regret one single move I've made.
I suppose that doesn't really answer the 'why' of moving to Arizona so I'll expand on that.
This all, of course, revolves around Vegas. It is exactly what you see: shiny, loud, carnival-like. But what you don't see is the seedy underbelly and the magnetic attraction it has to dysfunctional people.
It can be, in isolated areas (Mt. Charleston, Red Rocks, Hot Springs, etc.) very beautiful and peaceful. Those are a few exceptions to the rule that Vegas is actually a throw-away spot. You come, get drunk, vomit on the sidewalks, lose your money and go home. There isn't a huge appreciation for what the city does have to offer away from the strip. And, truthfully, it doesn't offer much. For such an almost world-class city it has no museums, not much of historical significance (and the little it does have most don't care about), or anything that most cities as popular have. And, I'm here to live my life, not just exist in a mundane city careless about what it projects.
The fact that it's main draw is tourism should tell you what kind of people thrive here. Carny-like (see above), aimless, lost and never looking for anything more than what's right in front of their faces.
I'm not one to generalize, usually, I think smart people usually don't (yes, I was saying I'm smart), but Vegas is my exception. I've never met a bigger group of people more alike. Of course, the transiency of Vegas is a huge part of the problem. No one is actually from there (and the ones that are HATE the people who move there), there are no roots to cling to, there is no sense of community, it's like one big stage for Cops.
So, I'm not those people, I don't intend to ever be someone that could stay in a place so unaware of its own ugliness that I become part of it. I will miss the friends I've made and the relationships I've formed, but not much else.
Arizona, however, offers me the comfort of family (very close family), the ability to watch a football game (you have no idea how much you miss it until you can't do it), museums and art, beauty and affordability. It's a classier Vegas (and Vegas seethes with envy over that fact) and the people are incredibly kind and accessible. I love that part the most.
I also have a very close relationship there with someone I care about deeply, someone that I have a great future with and I'm excited to explore that.
So, I'm sorry that I can't stay in Vegas, but not that sorry. I'm happy to be following my happiness once again. Phoenix seems a more permanent move as well. So, join me in saying good-bye to this phase of my life, and onto a different one.
I'll see you in Phoenix!
Monday, August 26, 2013
Rumor and Lies
I usually don't care to address rumors or lies, but this one was just believable enough that I had to address it.
So, some tool on TER decided that he'd make a list of all girls that were presumably 'pimped out.' He'd heard this from LE, supposedly, and wanted to share this erroneous information with all of TER.
I don't really care who this person is, or what he does with his life, but this is getting a little ridiculous. First, no law enforcement officer is going to buddy up to some douchebag liar on TER and give him all this information. Secondly, what does being 'pimped out' have to do with anything?
If I worked for an agency I'd let that agency do all my work for me. I wouldn't hide it. If someone else was calling all the shots I'd let THEM make all my appointments and answer all my phone calls and emails.
As it stands, it's my job alone. I am an independent provider and have been since I started. I'm proud of the fact that I do this by myself. That I have become who I am through my own hard work. I don't even have a scheduler because I don't trust people to protect my reputation the way I do. Sometimes it would be easier to have someone do all this for me, but I refuse to give that control to anyone.
I am not offended that someone thought I was 'pimped out,' I'm offended that someone else gets any credit for my hard work. I do all of this, I project the image you see, I come to you of my own free will, I am my own person.
There is a lot of good information on TER, I have used it to my benefit, and you to yours, for years, so I'm not bashing them. But, please, be careful about what you believe, it could hurt someone in some way and that's never good.
Now, let's have some fun and stop spreading lies and untruths. The world has plenty of that without any help from TER.
So, some tool on TER decided that he'd make a list of all girls that were presumably 'pimped out.' He'd heard this from LE, supposedly, and wanted to share this erroneous information with all of TER.
I don't really care who this person is, or what he does with his life, but this is getting a little ridiculous. First, no law enforcement officer is going to buddy up to some douchebag liar on TER and give him all this information. Secondly, what does being 'pimped out' have to do with anything?
If I worked for an agency I'd let that agency do all my work for me. I wouldn't hide it. If someone else was calling all the shots I'd let THEM make all my appointments and answer all my phone calls and emails.
As it stands, it's my job alone. I am an independent provider and have been since I started. I'm proud of the fact that I do this by myself. That I have become who I am through my own hard work. I don't even have a scheduler because I don't trust people to protect my reputation the way I do. Sometimes it would be easier to have someone do all this for me, but I refuse to give that control to anyone.
I am not offended that someone thought I was 'pimped out,' I'm offended that someone else gets any credit for my hard work. I do all of this, I project the image you see, I come to you of my own free will, I am my own person.
There is a lot of good information on TER, I have used it to my benefit, and you to yours, for years, so I'm not bashing them. But, please, be careful about what you believe, it could hurt someone in some way and that's never good.
Now, let's have some fun and stop spreading lies and untruths. The world has plenty of that without any help from TER.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Love
At first I was going to write some rant detailing how ridiculous some things could be in this business when I thought of something that happened to me recently and decided to trade bad energy for good and share this instead.
My offspring recently called me with terrible news. A man that he considered a mentor to him when he was younger had just died. I could hear his voice rise in frustration when I couldn't give him what he was asking for immediately. The anger was just a cover for the grief he was feeling and I understood it for what it was. I calmed him, told him I'd call him back and we'd work it out. We did. He is now back in his hometown mourning this deep loss. I'm terribly sad for him.
That really isn't the story, though. The story is who this person was in his life. He happened to be the brother of his former step-mother (she divorced his father a few years ago) so in essence his step-uncle. But not even that as they were no longer in the same family. Except that's not true because that's not how love works, is it?
He, with zero obligation to my son, invited him into his life and encouraged him with sensible advice, a respect he held close and an investment that has lasted for years longer than you would have thought it would. Except that's not how love works, is it?
For Mother's Day my son also wrote a poignant post to his ex-step-mother. I added to the post, that yes, she was amazing and I loved her for the love she had for my sons. Then love came from other places; extensions of love from people that I didn't know. Love grows, doesn't it?
Then my sister, my mother, they added notes of condolence to this person they'd never met, but who they knew had a profound impact on my son. And the love grows, doesn't it?
I then realized that the love I have been surrounded by has come from places that most would never consider conventional. And I think a lot of people are stuck thinking that the way things are, is the way they should be. Family should only love family. The first ex-wife should not love the second ex-wife. The ex-wife and her family should certainly not love the second ex-wife's extended family, but I'm happy to say that...that's not how love works, is it?
My offspring recently called me with terrible news. A man that he considered a mentor to him when he was younger had just died. I could hear his voice rise in frustration when I couldn't give him what he was asking for immediately. The anger was just a cover for the grief he was feeling and I understood it for what it was. I calmed him, told him I'd call him back and we'd work it out. We did. He is now back in his hometown mourning this deep loss. I'm terribly sad for him.
That really isn't the story, though. The story is who this person was in his life. He happened to be the brother of his former step-mother (she divorced his father a few years ago) so in essence his step-uncle. But not even that as they were no longer in the same family. Except that's not true because that's not how love works, is it?
He, with zero obligation to my son, invited him into his life and encouraged him with sensible advice, a respect he held close and an investment that has lasted for years longer than you would have thought it would. Except that's not how love works, is it?
For Mother's Day my son also wrote a poignant post to his ex-step-mother. I added to the post, that yes, she was amazing and I loved her for the love she had for my sons. Then love came from other places; extensions of love from people that I didn't know. Love grows, doesn't it?
Then my sister, my mother, they added notes of condolence to this person they'd never met, but who they knew had a profound impact on my son. And the love grows, doesn't it?
I then realized that the love I have been surrounded by has come from places that most would never consider conventional. And I think a lot of people are stuck thinking that the way things are, is the way they should be. Family should only love family. The first ex-wife should not love the second ex-wife. The ex-wife and her family should certainly not love the second ex-wife's extended family, but I'm happy to say that...that's not how love works, is it?
Friday, March 15, 2013
Update
The thing I've learned as I've gotten older and become much wiser is that things change. Making allowances for that in my life has made everything so much easier for me.
When I announced my retirement a few months ago it was preceded by an amazing addition to my family. I was consumed by this new relationship in my life. I didn't care how or why or when, but I was going to be closer so I could foster that relationship and make it an important part of both of our lives.
What I didn't count on was how much I would hate the idea of living in the area that my family and this new relationship was in (a town of 6,000 and miles and hours from any big city). Having visited now seven plus times I am quite sure this will never be a place for me to thrive and expand on my happiness. Not even for this relationship.
My heart is broken. I thought I would do anything for this person, but the truth is that I'd be giving up an immeasurable amount of happiness and contentment to be near them. That wouldn't benefit any of us. I choose to stay in a place that enhances my life and allows me to be the positive influence in this person's life that I just couldn't be if I were depressed and sad about my surroundings.
Sometimes in life the pieces all fall together and I had dreams of that happening here. I did feel a lot of joy at the idea of being there every moment of their life, but when reality set in the pieces were scattered and didn't fit together like I had hoped.
So, I say all that to say that I won't retire now. I love this thing I do. I love the people I meet and the incredible experiences that I have had and I want more. And, at the same time I will be a force in this person's life from afar and hope that it's as deep and meaningful to them as it is to me regardless of the distance between us.
I will be happy to explain what has happened in detail to anyone that asks, but for now I choose to stay and be happy. Happy with you, happy with me, and happy with the choices I've made. I hope you'll support me in that noble and worthwhile goal.
When I announced my retirement a few months ago it was preceded by an amazing addition to my family. I was consumed by this new relationship in my life. I didn't care how or why or when, but I was going to be closer so I could foster that relationship and make it an important part of both of our lives.
What I didn't count on was how much I would hate the idea of living in the area that my family and this new relationship was in (a town of 6,000 and miles and hours from any big city). Having visited now seven plus times I am quite sure this will never be a place for me to thrive and expand on my happiness. Not even for this relationship.
My heart is broken. I thought I would do anything for this person, but the truth is that I'd be giving up an immeasurable amount of happiness and contentment to be near them. That wouldn't benefit any of us. I choose to stay in a place that enhances my life and allows me to be the positive influence in this person's life that I just couldn't be if I were depressed and sad about my surroundings.
Sometimes in life the pieces all fall together and I had dreams of that happening here. I did feel a lot of joy at the idea of being there every moment of their life, but when reality set in the pieces were scattered and didn't fit together like I had hoped.
So, I say all that to say that I won't retire now. I love this thing I do. I love the people I meet and the incredible experiences that I have had and I want more. And, at the same time I will be a force in this person's life from afar and hope that it's as deep and meaningful to them as it is to me regardless of the distance between us.
I will be happy to explain what has happened in detail to anyone that asks, but for now I choose to stay and be happy. Happy with you, happy with me, and happy with the choices I've made. I hope you'll support me in that noble and worthwhile goal.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Dating
Once upon a time I had a boyfriend that I loved very much, and who also loved me. He showed me by sleeping around and lying. We aren't together anymore because apparently me being ungrateful wasn't a part of the plan.
I am not ready to date, but what better time than when you loathe the idea with every part of your soul? Perfect. I can tell you exactly how this turns out. And, so I will...
The first person I met was tall and handsome with an accent. He was athletic, loved scuba and the outdoors, and animals! He was charming and charismatic and sarcastic. I mean, very sarcastic. Astonishingly so.
We met at a mutually agreeable place and time. He was instantaneously critical of everyone and everything. Almost like he practiced it. Continuously. I suppose I was his unwitting audience. I assumed that because of his pedigree that these things naturally went along with that. I'd like to add as a disclaimer that I hated it immediately. But, I'm southern, if you want to act like an asshole there's almost nothing you can do, as a stranger, to get me to point that out. Y'all.
So, after chatting combatively for a little while we finally got down to brass tacks. I made him uncomfortable, he didn't know what to do with me, he'd never met anyone like me. Whoa, there. I can take verbal bombs, mainly because I expect people to take them, too, sometimes, but this was so deranged, so far from a human response to a stranger being nice, that I politely slid out of my chair, draped my purse over my shoulder and made a mad dash to my car. I only hope he didn't get my plate number because I can totally see stalking as a future goal of his.
The second 'date' thankfully only went as far as text messaging.
Got a text from someone with 'good morning' as the introduction. Clearly this person didn't know me, or the 7 a.m. buzzing in my ear would have happened three hours later therefore, I ignored it. I woke up (not at 10, that's actually when I start to feel less zombie) and replied with 'hello?' IMMEDIATELY I'm bombared with questions about why didn't I recognize this number (I'm the one who gave my number because obviously I need another lesson in crazy - I'm about to get it), didn't I know who it was, etc. When I replied that, no, I socialize, work, volunteer, etc. and get lots of numbers, I got a terse 'bye.' What-the-fuck-ever you clown. I apologized and told him I'm used to people introducing themselves. He then accused me of being a 'player' and other things I deleted out of my phone.
I quickly dismissed myself from that lunatic and vowed to never date in Vegas, ever. I do believe I'm here to merely serve as an example to all women that Vegas is probably not the best place to find someone to live out the rest of your days with. Unless sleeping with an axe strapped to your chest and a .38 glued to your palm is your idea of romance.
The end.
I am not ready to date, but what better time than when you loathe the idea with every part of your soul? Perfect. I can tell you exactly how this turns out. And, so I will...
The first person I met was tall and handsome with an accent. He was athletic, loved scuba and the outdoors, and animals! He was charming and charismatic and sarcastic. I mean, very sarcastic. Astonishingly so.
We met at a mutually agreeable place and time. He was instantaneously critical of everyone and everything. Almost like he practiced it. Continuously. I suppose I was his unwitting audience. I assumed that because of his pedigree that these things naturally went along with that. I'd like to add as a disclaimer that I hated it immediately. But, I'm southern, if you want to act like an asshole there's almost nothing you can do, as a stranger, to get me to point that out. Y'all.
So, after chatting combatively for a little while we finally got down to brass tacks. I made him uncomfortable, he didn't know what to do with me, he'd never met anyone like me. Whoa, there. I can take verbal bombs, mainly because I expect people to take them, too, sometimes, but this was so deranged, so far from a human response to a stranger being nice, that I politely slid out of my chair, draped my purse over my shoulder and made a mad dash to my car. I only hope he didn't get my plate number because I can totally see stalking as a future goal of his.
The second 'date' thankfully only went as far as text messaging.
Got a text from someone with 'good morning' as the introduction. Clearly this person didn't know me, or the 7 a.m. buzzing in my ear would have happened three hours later therefore, I ignored it. I woke up (not at 10, that's actually when I start to feel less zombie) and replied with 'hello?' IMMEDIATELY I'm bombared with questions about why didn't I recognize this number (I'm the one who gave my number because obviously I need another lesson in crazy - I'm about to get it), didn't I know who it was, etc. When I replied that, no, I socialize, work, volunteer, etc. and get lots of numbers, I got a terse 'bye.' What-the-fuck-ever you clown. I apologized and told him I'm used to people introducing themselves. He then accused me of being a 'player' and other things I deleted out of my phone.
I quickly dismissed myself from that lunatic and vowed to never date in Vegas, ever. I do believe I'm here to merely serve as an example to all women that Vegas is probably not the best place to find someone to live out the rest of your days with. Unless sleeping with an axe strapped to your chest and a .38 glued to your palm is your idea of romance.
The end.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Pampering
I do love it. I do it as often as I can because, dammit, I'm worth it.
I have a beautiful, highly rated spa very near my house fortunately. I booked an appointment one beautiful Sunday and headed over to sit in the jacuzzi, steam room, sauna...yum.
I also booked time for a facial and a hot rock massage.
First, let me tell you this is what I sounded like the whole time I was there: Mmmmmmm. Ahhhhhhhh. OH MY GOD. Wow. Mmmmmmmmmmm. A lot of mmmmmm's, actually.
There is a reason I'm saying this.
I head to get my hot stone massage. There is absolutely nothing better than sliding naked under the heavy blanket and waiting for someone with experienced hands to run them all over my body. Okay, maybe orgasm. But, god, it's so close.
So, a young guy comes in and begins the process of placing the rocks on my back, in my hand, etc. He then starts to run the warm rocks over my body. I cannot contain myself or the almost-orgasmic joy I feel going through my body. Cue sounds from above. I couldn't help myself. When I feel something delicious an involuntary moan comes sliding out of my mouth. Sensually, sexily, yes. I'm sorry. Not really.
So, he's rocking my body (I apologize, bad pun). I'm laying there and cannot keep my mouth from making these really dirty, sexual noises. I had to admit, I wasn't turned on by him, but my body betrays me and so I know he thinks HE is the one turning me on. Know how I know? He asks me out to dinner.
Oh. My. God. I've done it now. I deflect the attention and go back to the business of absorbing this amazing pleasure. Do you think I can stop? I can't. My mouth, my body, those noises. Oh man.
Thankfully, or not so, the massage ends and I can sneak out without looking him in the eye. I just couldn't. How embarrassing.
So, I go to get a facial. SAME THING. She's rubbing my shoulders during the time the mask is on my face, etc. By the time I'm ready to go I'm pretty sure the gorgeous girl thinks I'm going to ask her out. She walks me to the waiting area where I started with her arm around me the whole time. Oh my god. Again.
I'm pretty sure everyone there thinks I'm the spa slut. I'd defend myself, but I would never apologize for feeling SO good.
I have a beautiful, highly rated spa very near my house fortunately. I booked an appointment one beautiful Sunday and headed over to sit in the jacuzzi, steam room, sauna...yum.
I also booked time for a facial and a hot rock massage.
First, let me tell you this is what I sounded like the whole time I was there: Mmmmmmm. Ahhhhhhhh. OH MY GOD. Wow. Mmmmmmmmmmm. A lot of mmmmmm's, actually.
There is a reason I'm saying this.
I head to get my hot stone massage. There is absolutely nothing better than sliding naked under the heavy blanket and waiting for someone with experienced hands to run them all over my body. Okay, maybe orgasm. But, god, it's so close.
So, a young guy comes in and begins the process of placing the rocks on my back, in my hand, etc. He then starts to run the warm rocks over my body. I cannot contain myself or the almost-orgasmic joy I feel going through my body. Cue sounds from above. I couldn't help myself. When I feel something delicious an involuntary moan comes sliding out of my mouth. Sensually, sexily, yes. I'm sorry. Not really.
So, he's rocking my body (I apologize, bad pun). I'm laying there and cannot keep my mouth from making these really dirty, sexual noises. I had to admit, I wasn't turned on by him, but my body betrays me and so I know he thinks HE is the one turning me on. Know how I know? He asks me out to dinner.
Oh. My. God. I've done it now. I deflect the attention and go back to the business of absorbing this amazing pleasure. Do you think I can stop? I can't. My mouth, my body, those noises. Oh man.
Thankfully, or not so, the massage ends and I can sneak out without looking him in the eye. I just couldn't. How embarrassing.
So, I go to get a facial. SAME THING. She's rubbing my shoulders during the time the mask is on my face, etc. By the time I'm ready to go I'm pretty sure the gorgeous girl thinks I'm going to ask her out. She walks me to the waiting area where I started with her arm around me the whole time. Oh my god. Again.
I'm pretty sure everyone there thinks I'm the spa slut. I'd defend myself, but I would never apologize for feeling SO good.
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