www.qie9.drughealth-co.com

sex update

So far, the sex thing has gone a little something like this:

 

Day 1 -- nice

Day 2 -- pretty good

Day 3 -- my vagina hurt from the traffic so I gave him a hand job. Typing that makes me think about "Rushmore."

Day 4 -- I suggested we give up, and he agreed this 100 days thing is wack.

 

Yay! We made it two days in a row!

 

Okay, now onto other things.

 

1) Our neighbor down the street is a bitch whore. Her kid always comes over to play, and sometimes the kids fight. Sometimes her kid starts it, other times it's my jackasses. Anyway, I figured that's what happens, no big deal. Well, she made some nasty comment to "Mary" when she went over to ask if the bitchwhore's kid could play. "I dunno, are you done being crabby? My bitchwhore spawn said you were in a crabby mood." And then she admitted her kid wasn't even home. Now why are you gonna pick a fight with a 6-year-old? Dirty whore. I want to go fight her but I'm not very strong and don't have good fighting skillz.

 

2) Yeah, my husband lost his job. I am trying not to freak out. He is starting to get down and freak out a little. That's not like him -- I'M the mentally unstable one.

 

STRESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

a decision I may come to regret

Heh heh, no pun intended... heh!

 

Inspired by a fellow blogger who was, in turn, inspired by some magazine article, I have signed on for 100 days in a row of sex. Last night was night 1. It was good. That does not mean I am looking forward to tonight.

 

I am a willing participant in this experiment. I was offered several outs. I thought it would probably be good for us... with the possible added benefit of buying me a few weeks off at the end of this.

 

Also, the other blogger got an iPod out of the deal so I am hoping I will get a great Christmas present if I keep this up.

 

Future updates to come...

 

Oh yeah. Also, we have an established marital rule along the lines of, "What's good for the goose is good for the gander." Except for us it is, "What's good for the goose's ass is good for the gander's." So even though my beloved's love language is supposedly butt sex, no one is speaking his language around here. So don't be traumatized if you know me in real life.

love languages

After some introspection, I determined that my love language has something to do with eating chocolatey baked goods in peace and quiet. If I could be alone with a giant plate of chocolate chip cookies, all would be right in my universe.

 

I shared this with my husband, but then he told me that his love language is butt sex. :(

the more you know...

The longer your partner spends fumbling in the dark with the sex toys bag, the worse news that is for your anal sphincter integrity. So clench in advance, ladies.

oh SNAP! DISCOVERY!

Ladies, I was discovered. Due to my placement at the top of the last Constance Building Newsletter, and the fact that I had not bookmarked the general Constance site (meaning I'd had to type it in so it popped up when my husband went to type in a site) he found my dee-lux apartment.

Now, in my case this was sort of a blessing, as it allowed him to see my side of the situation, without interrupting me the entire time so I couldn't get my thoughts out.

But.

Let this be a warning! He reconized me because I had posted the ages of our kids, and of course because I was bitching about sex.

Anyway, things are improved between us because I am making an effort to get myself in the mood more often. I moved the baby out of our room, and that involved a lot of furniture rearrangement, and he was touched by the amount of effort I'd put into improving our hump life. I understand that the horizontal bop is his love language. I do love him, so I'm trying.

Since this is still supposedly a secret blog, I will share that I watched some VH1 special about shocking reality moments or something last night, and there was a moment about Ryan Seacrest and Simon Cowell having a bit of a catfight. And the sexual tension was, uh, tense, and I have to admit I wish the two of them would start dating and that would be hot.

Anyway, I haven't decided whether I will keep on posting here, as I don't expect my husband will be checking in and I don't have any big secrets... I just need a place to vent. Or, whether I will move across the hall or something... but for now, I wanted to warn you all of the need for using the post-via-email function if you are on a shared computer.

Love,
Constance

trying

Have requested a date tonight at 9:30. Hopefully the kids will cooperate and bedtime won't be drawn out that late, as if has often been since the time change. (But do they sleep in later? No.)

 

We have to get the baby moved out of our room. It sure would be nice to do it in a bed again. We've been working around that for 18 months now. (Her crib is in our room. There isn't another bedroom for her, and she still [STILL!] wakes during the night so we can't put her in with siblings.) That does impact my interest level, because after a while the excitement of doing it everywhere else is gone, and it's like sex on the beach. Sounds nice, but you end up with lots of bug bites and sand in your cervix. Except in my case you can substitute crumbs for the sand. No bug bites -- yet.

 

Casey, I so appreciate your advice and thoughts on all this. It's easy, when someone is venting, to make a complicated situation seem simple and one dimensional -- a good guy and a bad guy. Right and wrong. I appreciate your objective take on all this. (Everyone else, too.)

---

Be a better friend, newshound, and know-it-all with Yahoo! Mobile. Try it now.