I've heard a lot of talk about numbers lately.. you know what I'm talking about. That question the insecure love. "How many people have you slept with (dun dun duuunnnn)" I say insecure for two reasons: One, let's be honest, the reason you're asking is because you want to know where you stand in comparison. Two, you think that a certain number will accurately reflect the character of the person in question, which is placing all of your better judgment in a situation that you have no control in. You in fact, have no part in this equation ..yet it matters so much to you, because you are indeed insecure.
I guess I can understand why those people who ask this question, ask it. Maybe, as we've established.. they are just insecure. Maybe.. I'm wrong and they are freaks.. and will gauge the level of how high they wave that dirty little freak flag based on the answer given..which is highly possible (and intriguing.) The only problem with that is- isn't the real issue that you are indeed insecure of how much another person will deal with and you think you can accurately judge what someone is comfortable with by the number of people they've "admitted" to sleeping with?
Rather than continue to live like an insecure freshman ... in high school why can't we just be content in the situation we're in. Why does it matter so much that someone has a past. You have a past, that's a fact. Do you want to be judged by that? It's always going to be too low or too high for someone.. so why waste time, energy and genuine getting-to-know you feelings over something so insignificant.
People seem to be intrigued with what my number is. I get this question more than I'd like.. way, way more. I get it, I'm an open book, I have the mouth of a sailor, I think inappropriateness is completely normal - of course you want to know what my number is. Here is my answer: I stopped giving people a number because to me they are more than that, they are not a notch in my bed post and they deserve more respect than to be treated like one, as I hope I do to you. (well, some of them deserve the respect, some I could give two shits about.) To me it is of no importance, I don't have that fear of adding another number to my bullshit "list" like most girls, but that doesn't mean I think sleeping with everyone is acceptable either. I live my life on a circumstantial basis. I try my damnedest not to hold people responsible for other's mistakes and I try to avoid jealousy at all costs, which is why I never ask that ridiculous question. No good can come of it.
Number 1 or 100.. If I like you, it doesn't matter ---unless you're terrible. Then you need experience.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Dirty Musicians
It is of no surprise to anyone that I find myself in the most ridiculous situations. Be it karma, coincidence, curse, voodoo, whatever - my life is ridiculous. More specifically my dating life, if you could even call it that, is beyond insane. I wish I made these things up. Sadly, I have found myself in some pretty outlandish situations, I'm not one to be shocked very often, however.. this "date" (more of a hangout).. left me speechless. Until now.
As some of my close friends know, I have a thing for musicians. Passionate, dirty looking, tattoo-covered musicians. I like beards and long hair on a man, it's a real problem, a damn sexy one though. Being that I live in Austin, I am in no short of them. I could throw a rock and hit 10 dirty musicians, it's like Christmas year round. With that said, I have been, for lack of a better word, "talking" to this guy.. nothing serious or consistent even.. but phone tag and texting nonetheless. He is in a band that I actually like and was familiar with and a fan of before meeting him personally, which was a nice turn of events. (My ex was in a band.. that well.. just wasn't my thing, great people - other than him.. not so lovely tunes.) So color me giddy when this guy who shall remain nameless asked me to hang out with him multiple times, I was borderline groupie happy.
I have heard some stories about this guy from close mutual friends.. he didn't exactly have a great reputation but I knew that he wasn't into dating seriously and I didn't see him as a real boyfriend-material prospect. I saw him as a piece of dirty sexy meat. Someone who I knew I would have fun with -eventually. So I agreed to meet him out one night, rather than go over to his house where he wanted to cook me dinner. I wanted something with less pressure..and alcohol - this was a must. So I met him out, I knew he had been drinking but he seemed fine.. we talked, we laughed ...we drank. I had a shot because I needed to loosen up, he then proceeds to tell me he appreciates me going to the shows blah blah blah, he really likes me blah blah blah. He's sorry he hasn't been in town much, they've been on the road and other stuff like that which I appreciated. The more open he was being the more uncomfortable it made me, though. I think he felt that so he then proceeds to flip a switch and tells me not to be afraid of him, that he's not feeding me lines (a line in itself).. he genuinely likes me, I'm taking his shit and giving it back to him which he's impressed with etc. I guess me being semi distant and hard to read coupled with day drinking did not sit well with him. He got a bit of an ego with me and said that I needed to stop trying to have the upper hand and tell him how I felt, loosen up and I needed to quit being scared of him. Out of frustration I said.. "listen, I'm not scared of you. I don't take compliments well, I don't like to talk about feelings, especially since I don't really know you and it makes me uncomfortable, you're not very scary anyway." He did not like that. He replies with "Oh, I can be real scary, but you shouldn't be scared. I'll treat you like a queen and fuck everyone up who doesn't" Immature, but sweet.. (clearly I have issues.) I replied with, "what... are you going to cut me up and wear my skin as a mask or something?" "no" "then I have no reason to be scared.. so chill out."
Somewhere in that conversation and me releasing my inner diva..he's looking at me like someone in the hunger games and I'm the food. He takes me by complete surprise and says "you're so fucking sexy I want to tell you everything I want to do to you." Caught completely off guard the only thing I can say is, "please don't, that's creepy.. wait, you do want to wear my skin as a mask, don't you?"
His voice gets louder , "No, I want to rip off all your clothes and paint on your naked body. I want to paint trees everywhere." I cover his mouth.. it's a quiet bar and people are looking. He continues and gets louder, "I want to eat you out for two hours!" I am in shock. My response, "that's not even possible." "let's try" he says. I am just sitting there, embarrassed, slightly intrigued, but mostly embarrassed and pissed. We were having a good time and he went and fucked it up. He clearly can tell I'm upset and on the verge of slapping him then in his attempt to apologize, which he does.. he follows it up with - you should get the fuck away from me. I'm no good for you. You're too good, too pretty, way too smart. I'm an asshole and you don't deserve it, but if you stay.. we're going back to my place and I'm going to do everything I said, to you."
Needless to say, I got up and walked away. Not without a last word though. I walked a few steps turned around and said, "What the fuck is wrong with you. We were having a good time, and spare me the bullshit self-deprecating act, if I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be. And don't you go blaming me for walking out. You are to blame - who says that shit. I don't even know you and you're telling me what you want to do to me. Come on bro, get your shit together."
Enough is enough. Some girls get all the luck, I get the sex crazed ego-maniacs. Awesome. I swear, I must have a sign on my head that says, "Douchelords Welcome."
Musicians - 4, Sam - 0.
As some of my close friends know, I have a thing for musicians. Passionate, dirty looking, tattoo-covered musicians. I like beards and long hair on a man, it's a real problem, a damn sexy one though. Being that I live in Austin, I am in no short of them. I could throw a rock and hit 10 dirty musicians, it's like Christmas year round. With that said, I have been, for lack of a better word, "talking" to this guy.. nothing serious or consistent even.. but phone tag and texting nonetheless. He is in a band that I actually like and was familiar with and a fan of before meeting him personally, which was a nice turn of events. (My ex was in a band.. that well.. just wasn't my thing, great people - other than him.. not so lovely tunes.) So color me giddy when this guy who shall remain nameless asked me to hang out with him multiple times, I was borderline groupie happy.
I have heard some stories about this guy from close mutual friends.. he didn't exactly have a great reputation but I knew that he wasn't into dating seriously and I didn't see him as a real boyfriend-material prospect. I saw him as a piece of dirty sexy meat. Someone who I knew I would have fun with -eventually. So I agreed to meet him out one night, rather than go over to his house where he wanted to cook me dinner. I wanted something with less pressure..and alcohol - this was a must. So I met him out, I knew he had been drinking but he seemed fine.. we talked, we laughed ...we drank. I had a shot because I needed to loosen up, he then proceeds to tell me he appreciates me going to the shows blah blah blah, he really likes me blah blah blah. He's sorry he hasn't been in town much, they've been on the road and other stuff like that which I appreciated. The more open he was being the more uncomfortable it made me, though. I think he felt that so he then proceeds to flip a switch and tells me not to be afraid of him, that he's not feeding me lines (a line in itself).. he genuinely likes me, I'm taking his shit and giving it back to him which he's impressed with etc. I guess me being semi distant and hard to read coupled with day drinking did not sit well with him. He got a bit of an ego with me and said that I needed to stop trying to have the upper hand and tell him how I felt, loosen up and I needed to quit being scared of him. Out of frustration I said.. "listen, I'm not scared of you. I don't take compliments well, I don't like to talk about feelings, especially since I don't really know you and it makes me uncomfortable, you're not very scary anyway." He did not like that. He replies with "Oh, I can be real scary, but you shouldn't be scared. I'll treat you like a queen and fuck everyone up who doesn't" Immature, but sweet.. (clearly I have issues.) I replied with, "what... are you going to cut me up and wear my skin as a mask or something?" "no" "then I have no reason to be scared.. so chill out."
Somewhere in that conversation and me releasing my inner diva..he's looking at me like someone in the hunger games and I'm the food. He takes me by complete surprise and says "you're so fucking sexy I want to tell you everything I want to do to you." Caught completely off guard the only thing I can say is, "please don't, that's creepy.. wait, you do want to wear my skin as a mask, don't you?"
His voice gets louder , "No, I want to rip off all your clothes and paint on your naked body. I want to paint trees everywhere." I cover his mouth.. it's a quiet bar and people are looking. He continues and gets louder, "I want to eat you out for two hours!" I am in shock. My response, "that's not even possible." "let's try" he says. I am just sitting there, embarrassed, slightly intrigued, but mostly embarrassed and pissed. We were having a good time and he went and fucked it up. He clearly can tell I'm upset and on the verge of slapping him then in his attempt to apologize, which he does.. he follows it up with - you should get the fuck away from me. I'm no good for you. You're too good, too pretty, way too smart. I'm an asshole and you don't deserve it, but if you stay.. we're going back to my place and I'm going to do everything I said, to you."
Needless to say, I got up and walked away. Not without a last word though. I walked a few steps turned around and said, "What the fuck is wrong with you. We were having a good time, and spare me the bullshit self-deprecating act, if I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be. And don't you go blaming me for walking out. You are to blame - who says that shit. I don't even know you and you're telling me what you want to do to me. Come on bro, get your shit together."
Enough is enough. Some girls get all the luck, I get the sex crazed ego-maniacs. Awesome. I swear, I must have a sign on my head that says, "Douchelords Welcome."
Musicians - 4, Sam - 0.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Beware: Wrong Vibes
I'm pissed. If you are a member of my family.. please kindly stop reading.
Sorry, had to start off with that, it's that kind of blog. So I don't know what it is about me, some sort of vibe I must unknowingly be giving off that says, "douche canoes welcome! Please come on too strong, thoroughly creep me out, treat me shitty and by all means, yes send me dick pics" Because.. that is my life. If I knew what this "vibe" was please trust, I'd be shutting that shit down, real quick.
Now that I got that out there.. here is my issue. Yes, I am very open (hence this blog), Yes, I am forward at times. Yes, I curse like a sailor and I am super inappropriate. Yes, I enjoy having sex.
NO, it is not ok to send me a dick pic before meeting me. No, it is not ok to tell your friends that I will be seduced by a dick pic. No, you shouldn't assume I will sleep you you. No, you shouldn't assume I will hook up with your friend who is in town.
It's like I can't win. I am not the damsel in distress type who is cutesie and fake. I can't pretend to laugh at all your jokes or make you think I give two shits about how many points you scored in your bullshit recreational league. I don't care that you were a big deal in high school. I don't need you rescue me. I sure as shit don't need anyone to cook for or clean up after. Yet, those girls get the loving phone calls, the pet names like "sugar, baby, etc" Those girls get the attentiveness. Me, I get secret admirer dick pics, late night calls, texts on weekend nights- only. Basically, somehow someone decided I was going to be the girl you observe the "twitter" rule with. No messages over 140 characters, as my coworker explained. Well fuck that. I am unleashing the bitch. I've already severed ties with a few guys who thought this was acceptable. I will call out the next idiot who decides a dick pic is a perfectly acceptable introduction, and for the love of God, If you are going to send a dick pic.. make sure it is hard. No one, and I mean NO ONE finds a flacid penis attractive.
Sorry, had to start off with that, it's that kind of blog. So I don't know what it is about me, some sort of vibe I must unknowingly be giving off that says, "douche canoes welcome! Please come on too strong, thoroughly creep me out, treat me shitty and by all means, yes send me dick pics" Because.. that is my life. If I knew what this "vibe" was please trust, I'd be shutting that shit down, real quick.
Now that I got that out there.. here is my issue. Yes, I am very open (hence this blog), Yes, I am forward at times. Yes, I curse like a sailor and I am super inappropriate. Yes, I enjoy having sex.
NO, it is not ok to send me a dick pic before meeting me. No, it is not ok to tell your friends that I will be seduced by a dick pic. No, you shouldn't assume I will sleep you you. No, you shouldn't assume I will hook up with your friend who is in town.
It's like I can't win. I am not the damsel in distress type who is cutesie and fake. I can't pretend to laugh at all your jokes or make you think I give two shits about how many points you scored in your bullshit recreational league. I don't care that you were a big deal in high school. I don't need you rescue me. I sure as shit don't need anyone to cook for or clean up after. Yet, those girls get the loving phone calls, the pet names like "sugar, baby, etc" Those girls get the attentiveness. Me, I get secret admirer dick pics, late night calls, texts on weekend nights- only. Basically, somehow someone decided I was going to be the girl you observe the "twitter" rule with. No messages over 140 characters, as my coworker explained. Well fuck that. I am unleashing the bitch. I've already severed ties with a few guys who thought this was acceptable. I will call out the next idiot who decides a dick pic is a perfectly acceptable introduction, and for the love of God, If you are going to send a dick pic.. make sure it is hard. No one, and I mean NO ONE finds a flacid penis attractive.
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