Weird evening. I went to bed early because I had a headache and didn't really feel like doing much, and I had a strange dream. It might've been because of the vast amount of pizza I consumed, but well, I was hungry.

But first; full details on the location of the movie will get hammered out at pho tonight. I have written down the times between 8 and 9 and where the movie plays, so it'll depend on how much people whine about how early they have to be up and how far they do or don't want to travel. For details, be at pho or call my cell.

Unt now, the dream. Let's see how accurately I can get this. I spent a lot of time this morning thinking about it, in order that I might stand a better chance of remembering the details. Of course, that was this morning. :P

The dream seemed to start with me and a bunch of people I don't remember/recognize hanging out at some weird amusement park. The old-school style, at least how it's always portrayed on tv shows; buildings with weird mirrors and huge clown faces and so on, and a few rides here and there.

As my group and I was sitting at a table, talking, ex-bf J joined us to hang out. He was carrying some sort of portable tank with tubes into his nose, like you see for people on oxygen, but his was some sort of nutrient thing or painkiller; I'm not sure which. I know we greeted him warmly and I leaned over at one point to push the button that fed more of the whatever substance it was into him, and he said that if he did that too much, he could potentially overdose -- not like he was telling me off or anything, just telling me.

Somehow we had to go and pick up what I think were supposed to be my sister's kids and stuff from people who were minding them, so we wound up traipsing all over to various homes that seemed to be a part of the amusement park in order to dig up these materials; kids' clothes, blankets, toys, and eventually children (I think there were twins). For whatever reason, these weren't all stored in the same place, or with the same person.

There also seemed to be some sense of urgency to all of this, as if someone else was pursuing us or trying to steal the kids. That didn't seem to happen.

In my dream, ex-bf J and I were chatting fairly companionably, and I believe I started thinking reconciliation thoughts -- again, in the dream. In real life, I know the odds of my winning the lottery and wearing a size 2 are higher.

And believe me, I'm never getting into a size 2.

Urgh. I seem to remember there was more to the dream, but I can't actually remember it... which kinda limits my ability to tell it. Well, needless to say, it was weird, and I haven't a clue why my subconscious came up with that, unless it was a combination of me being too warm as I slept (which pretty much guarantees that I'll remember my dreams), and the pizza. Yummy yummy pizza.

I started thinking yesterday that I wanted to buy a motorcycle, but when I was working out numbers in my head I became fairly convinced that I couldn't actually afford one. It's also not the most practical of purchases, but I've never been one for practicality. :)

And finally, in a random note: Shawn is to blame for the current semi-horny/frustrated mood. Not in the way that you think, either.

Okay, no guarantees about this having any kind of coherency, but that's how I feel today. Random.

Some potentially exciting developments in the job world, but I'm not saying anything until things are signed, sealed and delivered. I've learned my lesson many times over about promises that don't pan out.

Friday was book club, and last month was N's pick, 'The Time Traveller's Wife,' by Audrey Niffenegger. We all loved it, which was unprecedented, and I loaned my copy to my coworker the day after I finished it. I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone, and I might even consider lending it out to other people, should I ever get my other posessions back (H has one of my books, though I think she may have died years ago, and Ben has one of my books, as well). I feel as though someone has one of my DVDs, but I can't think who or what, so probably not.

After book club, some of us met up with some of the boys, and we went to East Side Mario's for dessert. Apparently JJ's chocolate cheesecake succeeded in tasting like motor oil and garlic. I didn't try it, personally -- I was working on my brownies and ice cream meal, that quickly became too rich for me to finish.

I went home, played some Diablo II and fought hard to keep my eyes open. It was kinda sad how quickly I got tired, actually.

Bed was very exciting.

The kitties tried to get me up around 7, as per our usual habits, but I would have none of it. I think I was awake by about 10, and just farted around the apartment until it was time for my hair appointment. I had to see a different hair dresser than usual, but he did a good job. I've kept the red, for those of you who were dying (ha ha) to find out.

After getting my hair done, I wandered around downtown for awhile, looking in HMV and a couple of book stores -- I was trying to find a biography on Alfred Kinsey, but had no luck. It started to rain, so I decided to head home.

Later that evening, I met up with the spook and his parents, and four of their friends (two married couples) to check out Yuk Yuk's. It was a great evening -- the comedians were hilarious (Scott Falconbridge was the emcee, Dana Alexander was one comedian, and Mike Dambra was the headliner). Mike Dambra did a set for which I'm going to Hell for having laughed at; he focused a fair bit on jokes about retarded people. Except that he didn't do them as general jokes; he picked on a guy in the front who he nicknamed Pickle, and he also said how when he was younger, he thought that "special ed" was one guy named Ed... so a lot of his jokes involved "Pickle" talking to "Special Ed." And one of the best parts -- the guy he was picking on was a teacher... who taught special ed.

He also picked on some chicks in the front who the emcee had spoken with; three of them worked for CSIS, and one was a fed in Washington who was staying in the city an extra day to avoid a guy she'd been dating for a week. So needless to say, there were a lot of jokes about spies and so on.

I really can't do the evening justice, but it was great. Then, add in the spook's parents and their friends, and their sense of humour (which is similar to mine) and them teasing the spook all evening (who spent half the night with his head in his hands or on the table, semi-embarrassed, while I just laughed... but that's because it wasn't *my* dad joking about taking the batteries out of my mom's vibrator...)... good times. We went across to an open-air restaurant for some more booze ('cause we hadn't had enough by then), and then split up to catch buses home a bit before midnight. His dad gave me a hug, and everyone said they'd like to see me again and such, and when I was standing across the street waiting for my bus (which was on its way), they were cracking me up by constantly waving and saying bye to me, over and over again... the guy with me waiting for the bus was equally amused. :) French Canadians are fun, and generous, nice people. :) (And yes, I've always felt that, I just had it reinforced somewhat that evening). Also, the spook has picked up the nickname Pickle -- I mentioned it once within earshot of his mom, and she ran with it... as did everyone else, all evening. Heheheh. ;)

The only real downside to the evening for me was the headache that came on after we left the comedy club, but with my usual overdosing of medication, I managed to sleep it off. The spook and crew was going biking in the morning, and he told me to just sleep in, that they were leaving crazy-early, and if the weather was bad, he wasn't sure he wanted to have a passenger (given the description of the ride, I'm glad I slept in... although Thena woke me up for an attempted cuddle at the same time that he was telling me on MSN that they were heading out -- 6:15 a.m.).

I woke up around 9, because the cats and my body both decided I'd had enough, and slugged about a bit. I called one of my compatriots at the radio station and managed to get out of my shift that evening, so I was free all day. The spook came over and we grabbed a bite to eat, then headed over to the bike shop so that we could try to get parts for his helmet visor (the one I broke). I picked up some leather gloves at the same time, and discovered that apparently my hands are too small to be a proper biker chick -- even the women's extra small gloves were still somewhat big.

We headed over to his place, where he made a strawberry pie and some little semi-sugar pie bites with the leftover dough, some brown sugar and condensed milk, and then we took the highway out to my parents' place. Previously, I think the fastest he'd gone with me on the bike was about 80-90 km/h... going 120 is a bit different. Before we got on the highway he told me to hold on tight... which I found funny. I mean, sure, I'm more comfortable on the bike and will now ride sitting up with my hands on his side, instead of wrapping my arms around his torso like I had the first time we were out, but when it comes to him picking up speed, I definitely hold on -- the bike right now is naked, so there's no backrest or anything to keep me from flying off if I decided not to hold on, and that's not something I'm looking to do in a hurry. :P

Anyhow, we had dinner with my folks, and they spent most of the time talking to me, which I felt kinda bad about. They did start talking to him more when it came to his job and the bike, and after dinner Dad started in on the bike stories, especially concerning this friend of theirs who used to pull *insane* manoeuvres when he was on his bike, and then it was time to head out. My dad also kept talking in a way that seemed to indicate he thought I was driving the bike or would be at some point in the future. Now granted, the idea of being a driver is looking more and more possible -- and fun -- but I don't know if I'll be rushing out to go and buy myself a bike. It might not be a bad idea to take the motorcycle course though, in case I did change my mind. We'll see.

I got my dad's old leather jacket from his university days, which I'd asked about -- since it's better for biking than my flimsy fall jacket, polar fleece lining or no -- and it fit fairly well. I shouldn't have any problems fitting a sweatshirt under it, so that'll help me out when it comes to the air blowing down my jacket. Otherwise, it's a fairly good fit.

As I was leaving, my neighbour (who's known me since I was a baby) called out my name, so I went over to see her. She hadn't seen me with the red hair, and now that it's back to its darkest, it's even more dramatic. We chatted for a bit, and she asked me why I'd done it, and before I really explained, she said, "Jenny always has to do things differently" -- which sounded like she was quoting my mother. I don't see my dad quite saying those words, and I found it just interesting. I can see that some might've taken it as an insult, but I know my neighbour didn't intend it as one, and I considered it almost a compliment, instead. I think it's cool to be different, or to stand out for something. Hearing that made me feel like less of a wallflower, which is how I usually feel.

So we took mostly city roads back, occasionally chatting at red lights and so on. I can see where microphones in helmets are especially useful, and probably completely necessary for multiple bikes. If I have the visor on the helmet down, though, it's pretty much impossible to hear what's being said.

We got back to his place in time for Family Guy, which I'd mentioned as we were leaving my parents' place -- he was impressed that I had thought ahead and planned things exactly right. :) We had some pie and watched Family Guy, which was a repeat, then he put on the second episode for me, which I'd missed most of because of my trainee that evening.

I got home around midnight, and more or less went straight to bed. Apparently the kitties were upset with me, since Thena took it upon herself to attack my feet at 5 in the morning, and then again a bit later. Needless to say, my rest last night wasn't the most fulfilling. :P

So, yeah. That ended up more coherent than I expected (or so I think, as the author), but I have to say, watching a guy bake, especially if he's baking something that I have always been fairly hesitant to tackle, is pretty cool. Maybe edging towards sexy, in a different sort of way -- not necessarily, "I want to jump your bones right now" sexy, but its own kind of sexy.

Also, and I don't care how much shit my various friends are going to give me for this, but I've said it in the past, and I'll say it again, French guys are hot -- or they're really grody, but I don't have any grody French guy (or girl!) friends (doesn't that just sound like Mickey D's Fry guys?). I've always loved hearing guys with heavy French accents speak English, and it's pretty hot listening to attractive guy Francophones speak French. I'm not reacting like Jamie Lee Curtis in "A Fish Called Wanda," but I'm enjoying it regardless. Shut up.

I also know what's going to happen now; I'll know those who've read my site by the ones who start speaking French at me. Whatever, I'll still be having fun. :D

Oh yeah -- my email to my boss to let him know that I was having someone else fill in for me last night?

"Hi (boss),

Just to let you know, I asked (person) to take my shift today, because I am a lazy bum.

Thanks!
jen"


His reply:

"Nice and to the point. I like that. :)"

I like my boss. :)

And something else for people to use to make fun of me, I feel kinda cool wandering around carrying the motorcycle helmet, with the punk rock hair and now with the leather jacket (previously just a black jacket). I also want to go around and make faces at people we pass or ride beside, which I think detracts from the cool factor, but... it's fun. :)

Finally... to everyone who's made it this far, and is practicing what French they're going to use on me, Madagascar tomorrow night. We have a few options for times, depending on how we're getting there (i.e., I'm not busing to the opposite end of the city), and how late people want to stay up. Contact me at the email address you know and love (first initial last name at yahoo dot com), or call the cell, and I'll figure out times and location. If pho is on, then that means a later show; if not, then I'll be targetting the 7 p.m. screaming children showtimes. :)

FUCK ME.

I hate this system. I had written a HUGE post about a few different issues, and I had some really good bits on girls and boys and bodily fluids, and this fucking system lost it.

Oh no, not Blogger - putty.

FUCK.

Jen's Guide to Going Down on Girls

You asked for it, you assumed that I had the knowledge and so on... here it is.

This is going to be totally free-flowing, 'cause I haven't really sat down and devoted myself to thinking this out too thoroughly, but hey, I think I've figured out by now what I do and don't like. :)

So, this is the warning space for some of you -- there ain't no way to do this without getting personal, and since a few of my readers have stepped up to the plate and bared it all (so to speak), I'll do the same. If you don't to read that, well, go here. :)

I'm also going to end my prefacing with stating that I'm only speaking for myself, here. I'm not about to claim I'm some Cosmo or Maxim magazine article that purpots to put forth a 'one-size fits all' guide to oral sex. Nuh uh. What works on me will not work on her, or her, and may not even work on me tomorrow. Women and their parts are frequently fickle and sometimes it seems like mine are even more so. :)

So here we go.

The biggest tip I can give anyone is to be careful of the pressure they use. My clit is not an on button; pressing on it will not get me off, and pressing on it harder won't work, either.

You have an alternative to just pressing down -- it's called friction. Boys like it, girls often like it, too. Some girls produce enough lubrication that you can get away with just your finger on her clit; I don't. Lube is your friend, as is saliva or girl lubrications. Fear none of these, make good use of them.

Girls usually take longer to warm up than do guys. Regardless of how much someone might be humping your leg, start out lightly. If she wants more, she'll let you know -- either by arching into your finger, grabbing your hand, or telling you.

But, you wanted talk of good head. Similar ideas.

If you don't know where a clit is, use google, check out some medical tomes, ask some female friends, ask your lady. Girl parts are all tucked inside each other, and some girls have small clits, and some girls have big clits. We're like guys like that.

So, some clits are more hidden than others. Some girls don't mind if you pull back carefully on the hood or on the mons and labial lips to expose the clit more. Sure, you're no longer using just your mouth, but hey -- your odds of getting something good just increased.

Alternately, she can pull back on the skin -- she knows how hard she can tug, and this way she still has use of her hands.

Take your time. Teasing is insanely hot. Having someone quivering beneath you, shaking and begging for your touch -- who *doesn't* find that sexy?! Just because you're in a hurry to touch her parts doesn't mean that you have to rush. Play it cool.

Kiss her thighs. Maybe give 'em a little nip. Breath hot air on her crotch, through her underwear (if you haven't yet taken them off), or just directly on her skin if you have. If she still has her underwear on, trace one finger along her lips very very lightly. Lots of nerve endings here that haven't really seen any attention yet -- a move like that is a big tease, and very promising.

Once you have her underwear off, take your time kissing and lightly licking around her bikini parts. Kiss her hip bones, lick the seam between her thigh and torso, kiss and lick her inner thighs, stroke her legs with your hands. Breathe hot air onto her, and if she has pubic hair, don't be afraid to run your fingers through it or tug it lightly, or just run your fingers across the very ends of it; small moves can do an awful lot.

When you actually do get down to her parts, don't be afraid to use your tongue. Tongues are meant to be used, in kissing, in petting/groping, and especially in oral sex. Some girls like to have broad swipes with a wide tongue, like you're licking an ice cream cone -- not I. I like the very tip of the tongue, creating light friction, similar to using a finger. I find the wide tongue just doesn't provide enough stimulation in the right spots.

Similarly, getting your mouth in close and sucking or whatever you're doing down there isn't always a good idea -- I find it hits the nerves in bad ways, and most of you seem to suck too hard and I wind up feeling like teeth are getting in there in a bad way. Consider that one a move you can do briefly every now and then, or don't do it at all unless it's requested.

But it's not just the clit that can be stimulated, especially if you haven't really touched her yet. Lick the very edges of her inner lips (the inner labia, if you prefer the technical term), and tease them. Lick down to her entrance (yargh, so few good words for what I'm trying to describe), and tease around there with your tongue a bit.

A word on tongue-fucking? Some girls like it (apparently). Personally, I find it a waste of time; your tongue is not going to ever be anywhere near as effective as your fingers or dick, and I just feel very stupid when someone's trying it. If it really makes you hot, go ahead and do it, but don't spend a great deal of time trying it, unless you know she's for it.

Once you've settled into a really good rhythm that she seems to be enjoying, you can introduce fingers into the mix. Once again, I'm speaking for myself here, but I don't enjoy being finger-fucked. I find it ineffective, awkward, violent, and often it just gets painful. Try having someone slamming their knuckles into your ass bones a few dozen times, and then we'll talk.

I am a big fan of the single middle finger (usually the longest one), and of two different things. One, I absolutely *adore* having someone teasing me by sliding their finger 1-2, maybe 2 1/2 inches deep and moving it slowly as they're going down on me (hopefully effectively). That feels incredible.

Alternately, I also love having my g-spot played with. I'm confusing to figure out; most stimulation I like fairly light on my more sensitive parts, but when it comes to my g-spot, well, you'd best have strong fingers. I like *very* firm pressure, and it seems to be the ol' "come here" motion that works well. Sometimes the circling motion gets a positive reaction, too.

G-spots can be played with very easily without finger-fucking. This is a very important lesson to learn. I have now learned it to you.

You can also press down moderately firmly on the abdomen, just above the mons (where the pubic hair stops growing) as you play with the g-spot; this can make the play easier.

If you've been waiting for me to explain where the g-spot is... it's anywhere from 1 1/2 - 3 inches in, usually just past the pubic bone (that thing that hurts when you hit it wrong, another reason I'm not a fan of finger-fucking). It starts out about the size of a dime, and feels different than the tissue around it. When you stimulate it, it grows in size and gets easier to locate (I believe). It can lead to the girl feeling as though she has to pee, because you are stimulating an area near her bladder, but either lay down towels/plastic sheets and tell her not to worry, or have her go to the bathroom and continue when she returns. I've had a *lot* of g-spot orgasms (fortunately for me, once I've had one, the next dozen or so follow fairly closely -- and loudly -- behind), and I've *never* peed during 'em.

I've had Carl's comments open while I've been writing this, and it's reminded me of a few things I wanted to add that don't really fit into the narrative I've established so far.

If you're finding the angle tough on your neck, stuff some pillows under her hips, have her sit on a couch or chair and you sit on a floor, have her throw her legs over your shoulders while you hunker down -- whatever works. Play with it, make jokes about it, whatever. Just remember, if she's a tough one to get off (as is yours truly), then the more she has to concentrate on holding herself up or keeping her legs just so, the harder it's going to be for her to bless your efforts with screams of delight. I'm not a fan of having my legs slung over someone's shoulder, or of having them dangling off the side of a bed, but that's me. Your lady will vary. :)

As Carl said, be sparing with the eye contact. Don't be offended if she's not watching you the whole time; I find there isn't much to see, and I don't get a whole lot out of the visual anyhow.

Don't feel obligated to be making all kinds of noise. If you want to, go ahead, but at least as far as I'm concerned, they don't do much.

If the moment is spontaneous and it's near the end of the day, remember that your lady might not be as fresh as she would've been straight from the shower that morning. Once she's into the moment, things will change, or so I've been told, but if you're concerned or whatnot, then a shower isn't a bad thing to suggest -- and she might actually be grateful to you for making the suggestion, especially if she's been feeling grungy.

Read your lady's body language, especially if she's not the noisy type. Arching into your mouth, holding your head, squeezing your hands, grabbing the pillow or sheets, all of these are good signs. If she's inching away from you, or her hips keep jerking, you might be too rough, or you're hitting a nerve in a weird way. Don't be afraid to ask -- sometimes we won't volunteer the information, but we'll answer the question if you put it to us (no pun intended). If she seems to be making small adjustments in any direction -- up, down, left, right, upside down -- she might be trying to get you to redirect your attention somewhere different. This doesn't mean that you're doing anything wrong, just that she'd like you to move towards or away from something.

Overall, having a good sense of humour, enjoying yourself and what you're doing are good things to keep in mind. My final tip to give works in two ways though: First, don't give up quickly -- either during that session, or overall. Some women take awhile, and some don't get off at all from oral sex, but that doesn't mean it feels bad or that we're not having fun. Sometimes we just have to get used to your technique, or refine it. ;) Secondly, don't get down on yourself or on her if you don't get her off the first time, or for a few times. Sometimes we just have to get used to your technique, or refine it. ;) Plus, think of how good you'd feel if we put a tonne of pressure on you to get it up when you couldn't, or to get off when you couldn't. We feel the same way.

So, did I miss anything?

Otherwise, I promise my epic post on head will appear soon-ish. As will my thoughts on Episode 3, 'cause I know you've all been *dying* to hear them.

Funny moment on that subject: I had two invites to do something tonight (can't folks, it's Sunday!), and the second was to see Episode 3. "I know you've already seen it, but you want to see it again."
"Uh... no, not really."

Ties into a conversation I had the day before about people telling me what I think or feel, but different, somewhat. :)

Okay, so where's the mode where it ignores you for half the day and sleeps? Or unravels your toilet paper? Or jumps up on the counter and licks the dirty dishes?

Here.

So, I saw Star Wars 3/6 last night. Now, granted, I'm not the target demographic for this movie -- I'm not a huge Star Wars fan. I didn't see the first sets of movies until I was 14, and I think I've seen episode 4 3-4 times, the others twice (including the rereleases), and then the new ones once each. I got a friend of mine all tetchy by asking if Mace Windu was Billy Dee Williams' character, Lando Calrissian (I couldn't remember either Billy Dee Willias' name, or the name Lando Calrissian). That type of uber-geek, I am not.

I'd spoken to a friend or two who'd seen the movie already, and I'd read a few articles on the subject. I wasn't going in looking for spoilers, but I was curious about people's thoughts -- people who'd invested a lot more time thinking about this than I would.

So now I'm going to go ahead and share my thoughts on the subject with you all. :) If you don't want to know anything about the movie, skip down a few paragraphs until something appears written in bold. If the stuff I wind up writing actually works out to be spoilers, well... maybe you didn't find the whole thing as transparent or obvious as I did.

Let's start. Episode 1 introduced Senator Palpatine. I looked at him and thought, 'Huh, he must be the Emperor we know from episodes 4-6.' Yay, I was right. Obvious.

I still don't think much of Nathalie Portman as an actress. She was okay in Closer, but she's really not very good in these movies. Maybe it's the dialogue she's given, maybe it's me just wanting to pinch her to see a genuine reaction to something, but I disliked her in episode 1, and she never won me back.

I was not especially convinced by Anakin's turn to the dark side. It was somewhat believable in the second movie (revenge for his mom's death), but in this one? You watch the Emperor kill bad-ass Mace Windu, you want to learn how to keep Padme alive, and so you agree almost right away to slaughter everyone? Um, okay. Nice to know a conscience is that easy to remove.

And younglings? Argh! They're children, they're young, they're anything other than younglings. Made me think of chicken. :P

I liked that General Grievous had a cough. That was funny. But I don't get that Yoda wanders around with a cane, Grievous coughs and hacks and limps a bunch, but when it comes to a fight, there's no problem flipping around everywhere and kicking twelve different kinds of ass.

Now, maybe it's just because I knew what had to happen in this movie to set us up for the next one, but I didn't get worked up over any of the action sequences, except maybe Mace Windu's death, 'cause I didn't know how that one was going to play out. But he didn't sound too upset over having his hands cut off, I have to say. I react more than that when I see a spider. :P

But... Obi Wan's in peril. Big whoop -- he's still around in the next movie. Yoda's fighting the Emperor. Whoop de shit, they're both around for awhile. Oh look, they're going to a lava planet, I wonder how long it'll be before Anakin/Vader gets all burnt to shit. *yawn*

Granted, kind of a gruesome end for him, that was not how I expected it to be. I'd read that Lucas made the Vader suit slightly too small and with lifts in the shoes (partly to accomodate the need for more height) in order to show that Vader's new and not the competent bad-ass we meet later, but we see him move in the suit twice, for brief moments. Hard to see him as awkward that way.

Also hard to believe that he actually feels any kind of agony over 'killing' Padme... who, when she was being choked -- I'm sorry, bad acting. Same with, "You're breaking my heart Anakin!" Blargh.

I will admit, I made some choking noises during one of the 'romance' scenes. They've improved somewhat from last time, but otherwise... eh. She didn't seem to care too much about her babies either, but what do I know from motherhood?

The robot that delivered them amused me -- he made me think of the Simlish that Sims speak. :)
Final minor complaint -- when did R2 cease to be so tricked-out? I think sometimes, with all the technology we see in the new movies, that Lucas has forgotten that these movies are supposed to take place some 20 or so years *before* the ones we all know. They look more like sequels than prequels to me, unless the galaxy magically lost about a hundred years of technological evolution in the twenty or thirty years it takes for Luke and Leia to grow up.

Anyhow, overall, I didn't love it, I didn't hate it. It was just yet another movie, more than much else.

I just want to clarify my last post (which I didn't do because I wrote it from work, and work saps my brain power and/or will to live).

I'm not asking what makes head good because I feel tips -- quite the contrary, I regularly brag about my prowess. Well, not so much brag as simply state fact. ;)

The question arose (no pun intended) from a conversation with a coworker friend of mine who said that he'd never had good head. So I wondered -- what defines head as good to a guy?

I know guys who don't come from head, but still enjoy it... so I was curious as what would make one person's head-giving skills superior to another's.

I guess it's kinda like one of the other questions that arose -- what makes great sex? After all, I've certainly said on a few occasions (some of them lately) that I've had more than my fair share of bad sex. I've often wished -- and I've said this just this evening, too -- that I could type up a manual of what I like and how to get me hot and please me, and give it to those gentleman callers (or even the ladies, should I meet others I wanted to invite into my boudoir and consequently my bed) to whom I was going to get more acquainted.

Mind you, the exploring can certainly be fun -- and it's always nice to learn something new that you didn't know you enjoyed.

Mind you a second time, I've been told by more than one person that the Whore's Boudoir reads as a 'how-to' guide for sex with me. It certainly doesn't get into the specifics, though, and maybe more's the pity for all of that.

As for what makes head good for girls, well... I can only speak to what I enjoy, and I promise to do that tomorrow. It'll give me something entertaining to do during work -- the speculating and answering of the question, not the researching thereof, more's the pity.

I'm repeating myself for fun. :) For now, I'm off to bed. Who knows? Maybe I'll dream of great head. Receiving, that is. And wouldn't that be... well, great. ;)

Two things:

1. The song "Road to Nowhere," by Talking Heads, is playing on Launchcast. I typed in the address to come here, and I got the little "You are nowhere!" error message that occasionally occurs, though in this case it lied, because the site loaded behind it.

2. What, in your opinion(s), constitutes good head?

Aside, of course, from the obvious, "I come as a result!"

Indulge me, would you?

Last night was a fairly quiet night. I didn't go to pho, for it isn't diet-friendly (though next week I might, since I think this weekend will mark the progression to the next level of dieting), and I watched my shows. The spook was supposed to get in touch with me after his softball game, but only used MSN to do it, so we didn't actually speak until nearly 9; at which point I figured it was too late in the evening and he had already progressed to the beer and underwear portion of his evening.

I had a really good nap with Venus last night, which of course screwed me up somewhat for sleeping that evening. However, as I was lying in bed, trying to get some sleep, I had some random thoughts go floating through my mind that I actually retained well enough to post here today.

But first, a recap of last night's dream. I know you all look forward to these, because it represents insight into my mind (and as one person has put it, shows what it is that concerns me). Namely, last night I dreamt that I was eating bread, and lots of popcorn. I'm sure there were other aspects to the dream, but that was it. Sad, no?

See, the diet is more or less going well -- at times I do crave sweets, but I resist (or I do something like eat fat-free jell-o, or the ricotta cheese. Not quite as satisfying as chocolate, but...). I don't necessarily crave a lot of other foods, but I miss them. I miss the convenience of bringing a sandwich to work, or making some pasta for supper, or even just having some perogies. Alas, alack and so on.

For now, I just daydream of getting to parade around in a string bikini and show off my newly awesome body. Who knows -- if I manage to stay to the diet and so on, this is something that could even happen this summer. And yes, I would share pictures of that, 'cause well -- everyone should enjoy skinny/muscly Jen, not just the cats and I. :)

But anyhow, last night's thoughts. I realized that I've become even more semi-censored by my audience than I realized. See, there seems to be a way that people who are new to reading blogs react to the authors when they know them in person. It's not the same for everyone, but some people like to tell the author every time they have read, are reading, or are about to read their blog. I'm not sure the exact purpose, whether it's to prove they are True Friends(tm), or to point out to the author, "hey, watch what you say, I'm reading your site!" or what, but... there you have it.

Others like to talk to the author about what they've written recently, even if it's just something minor like, "I hear you're missing breads" or "Wow, you're a freak for dreaming about eating bread!" (for the record, I don't usually have food dreams). Again, this seems to be a way of proving to the author that they read your site, or demonstrating some weird stalking agenda. Not sure.

Whether it's intended or not, having people point out to me that they read my site tends to serve to remind me that this person or that person does in fact read it fairly regularly. Big deal, right? This is my site, right?

True.

But...

I'm not looking to start major wars because of my private thoughts. I have long held the belief that my thoughts are not that different from others', I'm just more willing to express them sometimes. I'm more willing to state that so-and-so is a snake-oil salesman, or that person has wicked body odor. But that's in the privacy of the ears of select, trusted people. I can only hope/assume that the people who I entrust with these thoughts doesn't go running off to the person or persons whom I am describing to tell them what I think.

When it comes to this blog, however, I cannot do that. I cannot trust that I can write, "OMFG I HATE THIS PERSON AND S/HE'S SUCH AN ASS AND DID THIS AND I WANTED TO PUNCH HER/HIM RIGHT IN THE BABY-MAKER" and they won't go telling the next day, "So, I was reading your blog yesterday..."

Because I assume that if ever you have read my site once, you could theoretically be reading my blog now. This is not a vanity thing; I am not hurt if my friends aren't reading daily. This is simply a precaution thing. If ex-boyfriend X got the link or had the link or read it once upon a time, I can only assume that he is or could be reading it now -- and so I censor myself accordingly. If I want to.

With other exes, I don't really care if they read about what an ass they were. Some of them genuinely were, regardless of how I might have acted at the time. I've never claimed to be perfect, and in fact regularly state otherwise. But I am pretty good in bed. ;)

But sometimes, there is information about my life that I don't want people to have. Maybe I don't want this person to know that I hate that person, or maybe I don't want this person to know that I have started sleeping with that person. In some cases, I'm trying to avoid hurt feelings, and in other cases, I just don't want them to know -- it's not their business to know, unless I choose to tell them. And if it's that touchy of a subject, then there are better ways for them to go about learning than by reading it on my blog.

The same goes for my sexual experiences in general. If I don't want someone to know that I've started seeing someone else, then chances are I don't want them to know the quality of whatever physical activity is taking place between us, yes? Yes. I don't feel it's my business to go around saying that this ex-boyfriend like that, or this ex- was endowed like that. It's information to share with a few choice friends, not the net at large.

And though at times I might wish to bemoan the quality or lack thereof, or the endowments or lack thereof of someone in my life or in the life of a friend of mine, I can't. There's always the chance that person may read it and be hurt. There's always the chance the rest of you may read it and get the very wrong impression about me.

Because self-censorship has both its benefits and its drawbacks. Benefits? Well, I've listed them above. Drawbacks? There's always the chance that people will get the wrong impression about me, and assume that, as may have happened with one of my last posts, I am only concerned about the size of what my gentleman callers have between their legs. In describing conflicts, it is obvious that you're only getting one side of the story, and so the situation may not be fairly presented. And finally, I may also forget to include key information that would help to contextualize a given situation.

So one of my solutions was to form the Whore's Boudoir. There, I can discuss things from my past in an abstract manner, without directly pointing fingers. But of course, that method is not perfect either. If I were to post something tomorrow about bad sex, for example, it would be assumed that my most recent sexual experience(s) hvae been horrible, whether or not that was actually the case -- or my intention in sharing that information. If I post about infidelity and admit to a past that was less-than-pure, it becomes 'common knowledge' that I am a dirty, trampy whore who can't keep my legs together for less than five minutes. Past boyfriends can tell you that is definitely not the case, and in fact the Boyfriend Quest is something I've been undertaking for awhile. I love monogamy, and I tried to make that clear in my post.

But I'm not trying to defend that, merely continue my verbose explanation of the drivel that fills my site lately.

I don't quite have the courage to bare it all, as it were, and damn the torpedos, full steam ahead. I value my friendships too much for that, and so I will occasionally bite down on my keyboard (work with me here, I'm bastardizing a metaphor) and refrain from proselytizing on and on about how great or awful a time I had with someone who happens to read my site. I will do my best to avoid slagging the characters or habits of those who might read my site, and I will, unfortunately, refrain from posting in great details the more salacious aspects of my personal life.

Unless I'm feeling creative and want to turn it into a Porn by a Chick post.

Or a Whore's Boudoir article.

Or who knows, even work it into a short story for Angry Apostrophe.

After all, they always say to write what you know...

And in the meantime, I ask that you all have patience with me if sometimes it seems as though I talk about my cats too much, or my crazy dreams. If nothing else, it'd be difficult for anyone to get too angry with me for those subjects.

But in future, I promise to try to post more introspective stuff -- if for no other reason than to prove that I do spend time speculating on subjects other than what's between my or my date's legs.

Not going to spend a lot of time updating (I have to start preparing dinner, and then maybe doing some boxing), but my last betta fish, Stick (otherwise known as Mr. Fish) died sometime last night/this morning. Now it's just the girls and I, and y'know what? I kinda miss him. It was nice to look up and see him when I was on the computer, or when I was getting ready in the morning/coming home at night, and now he's not there. I keep looking for him, too -- force of habit, perhaps, but he was my long-lived betta, I believe. I got him when I was still living at home, and he made it through two moves with me.

Poor little guy. :(

I'm in the final stages of a chicken dish that includes cinnamon, cloves, cocoa powder, peanut butter, tomatoes, green peppers and onions.

Yes, I made it properly.

The weird thing is, it smells fantastic -- I just hope it turns out. I didn't have chili powder, so I substituted hot sauce. Aside from that, it's as the recipe is written.

It's just too bad it took so long to prepare... it's a bit of a late night for me now, not that I'm not used to them.

Also, I had dinner at my parents' place tonight, and we had to swing by the grocery store. I wanted to pick up my safe cereals, so there I was in line, buying All-bran and 100% bran. I felt like an old lady. :)

Venus peed on my bed again (she couldn't wait the 20 minutes until I would have changed her litterbox!?), and I was pissed (no pun intended) 'cause she did it *after* I'd changed the sheets and everything. Then I accidentally locked her in my bedroom while I cooked, so now I think we're even, since I now feel guilty and so on.

Feeling kinda bleah. I almost want to nap or something -- my energy level doesn't seem the greatest, which probably means it's time to put some more food into this corpse of mine. This has been the toughest part of this diet -- snacking and finding new foods to eat, especially since I've never been a huge meat eater, and there are foods they suggest that I just don't like. But I'm trying, I've eaten ricotta cheese a few times by now, and it's not that awful, and the Crystal Light drinks are actually really nice (at least, the strawberry kiwi is). Maybe I'll go make some jello and so on, too, so I have some other sweet foods I can eat.

Urgh. Sorry, I promised myself I wouldn't do this. I went to Casey's last night with the spook, and he laughed at me for picking apart my salad as I was eating it... and I patted the bun that came with my steak sandwich and pouted a little, and he told me he thought I hurt its feelings.

Full day yesterday, ouaf. Stefan and I went to the rehearsal in the morning, grabbed some Mickey D's for lunch, then he dropped me off back at home for an hour to myself. I perked up, decided nuts to the damn vibe I was getting there, and went back for the performance. Painful on the mouth. :(

I did get to see one of the former band directors, and despite our caustic relationship, apparently he asks about me often and Stefan says he genuinely likes me, so that's great. :)

Shortly after the performance, the spook picked me up, and we checked out the war museum (only two of the sections; we ran out of time), grabbed some dinner at Casey's (where our meal was held up for reasons unknown, so I kept threatening to just shanghai someone else's food, or eat the waiter's arm), and then saw "Kicking and Screaming," the new Will Ferrell. It felt like something he wanted to do that his kids could still watch. It was decent, but... I'm almost inclined to say Mighty Ducks did it better.

After the movie, I saw the spook's place, and met his cat, and we wound up watching "God of Cooking," another Stephen Chow movie. Not as good as Kung Fu Hustle or Shaolin Soccer, I have to admit. Still absurd, but... all of these movies are merely serving to teach me that men are shallow. Really, really shallow. :P :)

Mind you, earlier in the day the spook was questioning me about my last blog post, and teasing me that he could see where my priorities lay. So I ran with it, told him about my measuring stick and so on, and that I only go after the appropriately-sized men. :P *roll* If that were the case, I'd be chasing a few different boys I know; there's a lot more to it than just that.

Around 2, when I realized that I'd just woken up from a very quick sleep, I figured it was time to head home. The kitties were happy to see me, though I think a bit disappointed that I didn't cuddle them for longer. I fell asleep with Thena's cold nose still tucked against my side. She usually lies down on the same side I'm facing. :)

I woke up this morning a bit before 10, with kitties cuddling me again, and I've taken it fairly easy. I made some breakfast, organized a pile of my dishes for the washing they're semi-soon to undergo, and eventually there will be a shower in my future, too. Life is exciting, especially when you book the day off work. ;)

I also got the balls to talk to my director on Friday, 'cause I'd heard that she didn't like me, and I wanted to pursue it. She told me what the story was, and I left slightly shakier, but also slightly at ease. Of course, I'm still sweating the fact that I only have 6 weeks left on my contract, but I'm still chasing leads. *sigh* I really hate this part.

Tonight I'm getting delicious steak at my parents' place, and I'm going to do my best to come back with my bike. It'll depend on getting the new parts it needs at the Canadian Tire, and also on whether or not my mom makes good on her threat to send me home with more stuff -- like the cradle that's taking up space under the stairs. Oh yeah, it's a real cradle, but it's just a tiny little thing, meant more for dolls. She said that cats can sleep in it if they want, she doesn't care -- me, I'm looking forward to the first time one of 'em tries to jump in the thing and it tips over. It'll probably happen at 2 or 3 in the morning, too. :P I have the feeling it might get used, partly because Thena loves to curl up in my laundry baskets (especially the little one, though that might just be because it's usually emptier), even when clothes are in them.

Anyhow. Also had coffee with D the other night and kinda got some of the old shit sorted out. I told him my thoughts on the matter, he didn't deny that it played out the way I thought, and I think it'll be okay. Ah, my exes... how they come and go in my life. :)

And, in one of the more ultimate horrifics:

Class dissection of live dog outrages parents, students.

Of course, I have to ask -- why didn't anyone react to this when the notices went home? When the teacher explained what as going to happen? Euthanasia is a very difficult decision and can be a very kind thing to do to an animal, but dissecting them beforehand, even if they're sedated, is pretty sick.

I had a dream last night that I was having sex with someone I've never slept with in real life. I've never seen this guy naked, I don't have any knowledge of what they look like naked, but in my dream they had a relatively small, skinny penis.

Does this mean anything?

Does it mean anything more if it's a suspicion I've had about this guy?

Maybe it just means I need to get laid.

Well, let's see. My big news - I've decided to start the South Beach Diet. And it's scary.

Not the diet itself, but the idea of doing something like this, something where I've seen how other people have had great success, and committing myself to it properly so that it'll work. And if I don't follow the diet properly, like so many of my good intentions in the past, then... that's discouraging.

But I have a beach buddy, as it's called, and I went out last night and bought a whole bunch of condiments and food and so on (my fridge is now way more packed then when I posted the pictures of it over on LJ, as requested), and I currently have the determination to see this through properly. I started half-way through the day yesterday; I'd already eaten foods off the 'avoid' list for the first phase earlier in the day, so today is the first real day of being on it, but I'm determined to do this properly. I'm tired of having this belly that I've had my whole life, and I'm tired of working out and not getting to really physically *see* the results the way I'd like.

I know, girls are meant to be padded, and I'm not trying to avoid that; I like my boobs, I fully intend to keep them, and I think women look better with some curves to them. But I've seen in a lot of women how they can look fit and still be feminine and not be voluptuous or rubenesque, and I'd like to look like that.

I'd also love six-pack abs, but for now I'll just borrow them off of boys. ;)

Don't worry, this blog is not going to turn into a recitation of the meals I ate, or what my scale reads at this exact moment in time -- and not just because I don't actually own a scale. True story. The SBD webpage (how I registered) has a journal that you can keep there, so I'm restricting all of my food stuffs to that page. No, I'll keep this page full of thrilling updates like, "Today my cats ran around the apartment!" or "Today I went to work!" etc. I know you've all come to expect high-quality updates, and those you'll continue to get.

I might, however, occasionally be tempted to say things like, "today my pants felt looser!" or "today I got to wear a skirt that I haven't worn in a year," because those are going to be the way I really benchmark this. I don't have a goal weight, per se; I know that because of my working out, I've put on a decent amount of muscle weight, and that's obviously going to change my BMI stats -- which currently say I should weigh no more than 137 lbs; the last scale I got on, after the BBQ dinner my dad held, where I got to eat a baked potato, delicious steak, salad and bread, I clocked in at 159. *flex* Of course that was post-meal, and with the scale on an uneven floor... but it's still the heaviest I've ever been. And I don't think I have many friends who would be calling me obese or 'a large girl.' If there are any, by all means, speak up. :)

So for now, I'm going to target about 140 lbs and see how I look from there; if I still have a lot of belly or whatever, then I'll go down some more, maybe take it 5 lbs at a time or something.

Anyhow, for those of you who are mocking me for following a fad diet... I agree with you, or at least I did. Then I saw a friend of mine lose at least/around 40 lbs, and he's kept it off without difficulty -- and now he's at the point of getting to eat more or less whatever he wants... so I'm thinking that the suffering and sacrifices I have to do and make for the first little bit are going to be worthwhile.

The first two weeks, I avoid carbs and sugars -- so I don't eat rice, bread, potatoes, or fruits. This is going to be the hard part; no pizza for two weeks, no sandwiches, no bagels, no wraps, no pita bread, no hamburgers (because I can't have ketchup or buns, so unless I just layer on the salsa like my dad does), no fruits to act as a healthy dessert... urgh. It's to break your body of the habit of craving carbs and sugars -- which, let's be honest, make up a great deal of my regular diet.

But after that point, I get to reintroduce select fruits and carbs. It's not a carb-free diet. I promise I won't have BO issues or breath problems forever and ever. There's even a list of fast foods that I can eat, including several items at McDonald's, so that's going to help me out when it comes to having to grab food in a hurry (like I will tonight).

The only really hard part is going to be at the bachelorette I'm attending in a week's time -- it's supposed to be a sugarfest. My buddy and I have agreed that we'll probably extend our two-week first phase for an additional week or so (I might cheat and only add a day or two) to accomodate that evening... and hey, maybe a sugar binge will also act towards helping me break out of craving them for a bit. :)

So, I think I've purged myself of diet talk for awhile. Sorry for the boredom. ;)

Yesterday I went grocery shopping. But I already covered that, so moving on. ;)

I also spent longer than I wanted to in the morning trying to replace one of my piercings -- my oldest, barring my earlobes. I find it frustrating that that one seems to have grown in somewhat (after only about a month being out), whereas another I have hadn't closed many months after I first removed it with the intention of healing it over. So, it looks as though one of the steps I have to take when I have some free time is to get to a piercer to have it (sorta) redone. Yay. :P Then there's the question of whether or not I want to have my last piercing (that healed over completely) redone, as well. I'm not 100% convinced yet.

I've been sleeping poorly because of the heat the last few nights. I actually kept my window open last night, and had the fan on for about half of the evening. The cats got wound up again and woke me up around 3, at which point I also turned the fan off... and then in the morning the two of them were trying to get me to get up and moving, instead of lying in bed, lazy, like they have the last few weeks. I wanted to get up and go for a run, but I had a faint headache that was nonetheless making me feel fairly queasy and nauseated, so not only did I not run, but I didn't eat the little breakfast quiches I'd made. It's a rough life being me. :)

I indulged myself a little last night by watching Gilmore Girls and then Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. I don't watch it often, but every now and then it's fun -- everyone seems to like one another, and last night they were certainly trashing a particular girl in it (who'd come to visit the guy, and wasn't being especially nice or accomodating). It was great. :)

Okay, I'm going to end here, 'cause I need to go to get myself a snack. I'm feeling the wobblies, and I know it's because of the lack of sugar and carbs. Stupid spoiled body! :P

You know you've forgotten that you dyed your hair bright red when you go out in public wearing a purple jacket... and it's only in the washroom that you realize, "oh, that might've been a fashion mistake."

Ah, Leonard in Lynchburg... you've figured out Dear Abby's EVIL PLOT!!!

DEAR ABBY: In a recent column you advised the mother of a girl who had confided that she is gay and wants to come out, that homosexuality has "nothing to do with parenting and everything to do with genetics." You need to retract that statement. If you do not publicly admit your error, I will know you are a mouthpiece for the gay and lesbian crowd. -- LEONARD IN LYNCHBURG

DEAR LEONARD: If I did not believe with all my heart that what I wrote is true, I wouldn't have put my thoughts on paper. Homosexuality is simply a variant of sexual orientation. Those who claim it is "unnatural" should direct their attention to Dr. Joan Roughgarden, a biologist at Stanford University with a Ph.D. from Harvard, who states that more than 300 vertebrate species have been found to practice homosexuality. (A visit to any zoo might confirm it.) And while one gene may not be responsible for this variant, Italian researcher Andrea Camperio-Ciani of the University of Padua notes that research findings point to there being more than one "gay gene," and that the genetic factors linked to homosexuality in men are also linked to increased fertility in women.

I stand by my reply.

Sometimes I feel like part of me believes I can only or will only be completely happy when I have found that Perfect Mr. Someone.

Yet, my paternal side is full of people who are single. My maternal side has seen divorce and remarriage. My parents and my mom's parents are the ones that haven't divorced -- even my paternal grandfather divorced once before meeting my grandmother.

I want to lose weight and have the work I've been doing be more obvious. I want to get rid of the belly I've had my whole life. I want to be someone that people notice when I walk into a room.

I want to have a fulfilling, real career -- no more of this month-to-month bullshit. Though I want to get this new career going before that month-to-month thing runs out. I want to finally feel as though I can live in my apartment, like I can put things on the walls and paint the walls and finish hanging curtains and really make it mine... but it's like I'm waiting in some way to meet someone that I can move into a house with and start making a real life.

Damn my parents for their early starts in their careers and their relationship together, setting me up with these ridiculous aspirations and expectations! I'm not yet 25 years old, why do I feel like I'm so far behind in my life?!

New post up on Whore's Boudoir.

My mind feels empty and useless right now. I've been wanting to write for some time, but I can't think of anything interesting to say, and I feel in some way like I'm letting you guys down if all I ever do is recount what I've done. There's little to no skill involved in writing like that.

So on that note... I had book club Friday night, and we talked a bit about Angels and Demons, which was April's book, but mostly about television, french immersion and so on. A and I had a moment of nonsensical hilarity that had to do with Madeleine swearing and our waiter, and everytime we'd look at each other we'd just crack up more. It made no sense whatsoever (kinda like R and my winking thing), and yet it was great. :)

Some of the group was off to see Kung Fu Hustle, but I'd already seen it with Ben and crew, so I just went home, as did Mad. I watched some television, did a bit of reading, and went to bed by about midnight - I was fairly exhausted.

Saturday I slept in nice and late, after a phone call from my trainer to cancel our appointment, and then I lounged around the house for most of the day. I grabbed a shower and got ready in time for the spook (his current nickname, until he decides on a better one... other contenders are frenchman, petit, or something along those lines) to pick me up and off we went for food. Neither of us was craving anything in particular, so we ended up with Italian (decent, but I've had better), a couple of glasses of wine for me, and more than my fair share of tartuffo. Yum.

We came back to my place and watched South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut, and talked and got harrassed by Venus, who eventually decided that yes, she did want to be in my lap, and that was that. He left around midnight, and I stayed up for awhile longer, playing more video games, cross stitching (because I'm super-cool) and watching DVDs.

Sunday was another super-lazy day. Slept in, cross stitched more, then off to the station where I had a minion who got to do most of the work. Hah! That went relatively well, though I did start to tire of it as the evening went on. My attention span isn't that great or something, I guess. ;)

Speaking of which, I've abandoned this post for awhile, so I suppose I'll leave it off here. I'm trying to finish a job application before I leave for the gym, so I'll have to leave you all with great insights and so on later.

Ever get that feeling like your hair is orange?

Well, Madeleine was very very very very kind and patient with me last night, and took me through the two writing tests last night. I learned a few tricks (maudit que!) and hopefully that'll carry me through today. The trick is, and it's not one that I've learned in all of my years of testing, is to take my time. I'm very bad at that, and I know it. I have to read things carefully, think them through six times (instead of just twice), and hopefully I'll be able to write directly on the test, so that will come in handy -- getting to scratch out the wrong answers so that I can make sure I don't keep going back to them.

As it turns out, Madeleine had borrowed the two hardest tests for me, so while I'll no doubt have a bunch of those questions on the test, they hopefully won't be *all* like that. We shall see.

Stop thinking about it. Stupid subjonctif.

What else? I cancelled all of my activities yesterday. I spent time studying in the afternoon, came home and played some Ratchet and Clank to give my mind a break, chatted on the computer for a bit, and then went over to Greg and Mad's to study. I have to admit, some of the questions are kinda funny -- like when they offer you direct translations of "He wasn't doing his job, so they fired him," two of the options are things like, "ils l'ont fusille" and "ils l'ont allume" or something. Those are the anglophone traps!

Also, embaucher = to hire. Congedier = to fire.

I remember in elementary school, when we used to do verb drills. If I'd had more time and/or foresight, I would've spent some time doing those. Being able to speed-conjugate avoir and etre in present tense is all well and good, but only carries you so far.

I wonder if I can stuff an english-french dictionary and a bescherelle into my bra...?

Note to self: next time, wear a bigger shirt.

Okay, enough rambling, thereby proving my nerves. I'm off to read the bescherelle, because my life is just that exciting. It really really is.

I had a dream last night in which I happened to glimpse a particular pair of my underwear, so I made a point of wearing them today. Who am I to argue with my subconscious?

Also, I am very very very stupid. And I blame the hair dye -- it has seeped into my brain and killed off all of the french-speaking brain cells that would be of use to me right now. Well, not the speaking ones, but the writing ones.

Maudits tests remplis de pieges et language qui n'est pas utilise par des personnes raisonables! Dites-moi, c'est combien de fois par jour que vous, mes lecteurs francais et francaises, combien de fois par jour disez-vous des choses comme, "En raison d'une penurie temporaire de brochures dans leur version francaise, je vous saurais gre de bien vouloir me renvoyer le present exemplaire d'ici le quinze du mois."

Je ne sais meme pas ce qui veut dire "je vous saurais gre"! Mon cerveau est en train de se suicider.

Mais, j'ai une amie tres gentile qui va m'aider a etudie ce soir, et par ce qu'elle est bien plus intelligente que moi, peut-etre cette intelligence se transferrera a moi, et m'aidera. On verra.

So very very very fucked for tomorrow's French testing... So long new job, so long ticket out of here. :(

Urgh. Today I feel kinda crappy -- my stomach hates me, and I'm not entirely certain why. :(

So! It's been awhile since I've actually honestly updated, no? Let's see how concisely I can do this...

Last Monday, I got together with Big A. We had some tasty dinner, split a bottle of white wine that I'd received for my house-warming party (thank you, MD!), and watched "Carolina," a mediocre bad romance movie starring Julia Stiles, Shirley McLaine, Randy Quaid, and other people. I did some semi-tipsy mocking of the movie, and then afterwards we talked. His dog likes me, I'm sure. :)

On the way home, I ran into a few boys who'd also been out drinking. One of them was being somewhat loud, so his friend shushed him, saying he had to use his indoor voice. The loud boy (Eric, from Calgary), apologized to me with, "I'm sorry ma'am," which sparked me asking if I looked that old, and then the conversation flowed from there.

When Eric and two of his friends left the bus, he turned to me and hollered, "I love you!" Ah, alcohol is good. When the final friend left the bus, he held his hand out for me to give the good-bye bump to; although in retrospect maybe I was supposed to do the fist smack-down? I think that's from the 80s, though -- we've evolved since then. ;)

I posted my Ode to Alcoholism that night, then hit the sack. :)

Tuesday night OFK came over and watched some tv with me, and we chatted into the evening.

Wednesday I went to an opera recital with Stefan, and then we picked up MD and Ben and went out for some drinks at a nearby bar. We had a great waitress, who was behind our starting a food fight with the other table, just so long as we didn't get her floors dirty. We wound up not starting anything with them, but we did order the scary deep-friend bread. It came with feta cheese and some kind of random dip, and we all partook and agreed it was very dense. You wouldn't want to order a whole whack of it and then try to go swimming or something. :P

Thursday night I had a fantastic nap on the couch with Venus, then hung out with R and N, and we played You Don't Know Jack for PS2 and the MuchMusic Pop-Up Video game. N and I stayed up for awhile talking after that, and I was told that I'm one of the only people that enjoys playing trivia games with them. Go figure. I got a lift back to the bus station, once again missing the bus by about 5 minutes, so I had a 30 minute wait, and then a 30-minute trek home, meaning I got to bed around 2:30. Urgh. :P

Here's where I have to point out that despite an entire week of not-enough sleep and no downtime (or very little), I didn't fall asleep at work at all, and I only had the one nap (for an hour) on Thursday. Go figure!

Friday I went out to the folks' place for dinner, and my sister, cousin and family friend E were also there. We had barbecued steak, baked potatoes, salad, bread... *drool* So good. I drove us out to the movie theatre, stopping at the paramedic's to drop off a videogame on the way (just left it on the doorknob - his place is removed from the road, so I wasn't worried about thievery), and then had to explain to my sister that no, I wasn't driving her home, and that's why Mom gave her the cell phone and so on. We worked it out. :P

I joined up with the majority of the group to see Hitch Hiker's Guide on opening night, and we had fun. It seemed to be enjoyed by all, and I got to rack up (no pun intended -- you'll see why in a minute) another occasion of "stupid things I say in public": one of the girls was leaning in close to read my David and Goliath shirt ("Don't put a cat on your head: It hurts real bad"), and apologized for doing it, saying that her eyes were all messed up, and normally she'd be able to see. I said not to worry about it, that I didn't mind having people talking to my chest, or something -- and a youngish-guy in the row ahead of us turned around and said, "Hi!" After I glanced at him in slight confusion, he said he couldn't resist, I laughed a little (at myself and then at the situation), and that was that.

Another one of us (N, if you're keeping track) mentioned that there was a guy sitting in front of her wearing a beanie cap, and asked if that was because something to do with the book/movie, or if that was just him being a geek -- I said it was just him being a geek. As we were sitting watching the credits, I was hunting through my PDA for the correct phrase that gets said, sparking an international incident (they changed it for the movie), and apparently that made me geeky... but when we left the theatre and I said that what would have made us all *really* geeky was if we had brought towels, 75% of the group started saying that they'd thought about it, that they'd forgotten to, or that they really should've, and that would've been awesome!

My friends are geeks. :)

We went back to R and N's place and hung out and chatted, and somehow got on the subject of what Greg and my's strength bonuses would be in D&D, based on what we can lift in real life. Oh yeah, geeks. For my upper body, I'd apparently still have a -1, since I can only lift about 80 lbs (at my best, that's a guess) above my head, but if I could up it to 87, I could get a bonus or at least not a negative.. and Greg said that if I had handles, he could probably lift me above his head. :P

I mentioned that I'd weighed myself on my parents' scale when I was over (this weighing took place *after* eating a full meal), and that I'm at my highest yet... but I pulled up my pant leg to poke at my leg and show that it probably is mostly muscle, since my legs are solid. Then I was surprised at just *how* solid they are (at least from the knee down; the thighs can still use some work), and JJ said that it was really impressive. *flex* ;)

Saturday I went and got my hair dyed (you've seen the results), returned the car to Mom, and went out to a movie and dinner with... A Boy. Actually, a man -- he's 33, but looks 25. We talked, made fun of the punks in the restaurant, and he dropped me off after dinner. I tooled around the apartment a bit, then got together with Greg and Madeleine, and R and N over at R and N's place. We were going to play some games of some sort, and I brought over a bunch, but we ended up just chatting and debating. Good night. :)

Sunday I finally relaxed a little -- sat on the couch and watched some Sex and the City, developed a huge headache/migraine, then went off to work -- where my headache/migraine (which eventually went away) made me crabby... as did the situation going on with the phone lines and so on. It all worked out in the end, though.

And now we're into this week. Last night I went out on another date - this time with a different boy - and we had some hot beverages at the fair trade place and went and saw HHG. Yes, I'd already seen it, but he hadn't. We had a lot of fun, laughing and making fun of each other (we've known each other for awhile, but have only met up once, ages ago), and it sounds like we're going to go out again sometime soon.

In the meantime, this week is another crazy week -- Wednesday I'm meeting D for coffee or a drink after the gym, Thursday I have a language test, gaming session and a meeting at my old high school for the alumni band, Friday is book club... ouaf.

I found it funny that last night's date was asking me if I'd lost weight, that I looked like I'd lost weight. Here I am, I've put on at least 20 lbs since he last saw me, but he's asking if I lost weight. Brilliant. :)

Also, I managed to get a bunch more of my pictures posted yesterday to my buzznet site -- http://eiram.buzznet.com. At this point, it's mostly pictures of Thena that are up, but there are also some from my housewarming party, and some random pretty ones, including my new profile pic for this page (which took me forever yesterday to crop, resize, and upload to blogger's specifications). Feel free to comment as you wish. :)

Also, a meme I'm stealing from livejournal: "Ever wanted to see something about my life? I have a digital camera, so REQUEST A PICTURE. You can request anything you want -- a picture of something in my house, in my life, at my school (doesn't really apply), in my neighbourhood, ANYTHING. I will either post a picture that I have, or take a new one."

Caveat: I do reserve the right to decline the requests that would constitute an invasion of privacy.

I should have a new Whore's Boudoir article up later today, too. I tried to have it up earlier, but I wasn't able to post, and then I just kept forgetting/being busy. Stupid life, getting in the way of me doing other things. ;)

I'm slowly migrating my pictures over to buzznet. For now, I have two pictures up -- of this weekend's adventures in changes.

Check them out.

It's pretty cool when your friends are poking your legs and telling you they're pretty impressive. Now if I only had the abs/upper thighs (and okay, while we're at it, let's ask for hips) to go along with it.

No matter -- the upper body is pretty good, too. I may not be a stick-chick, but I could sure as hell fuck one up in a fight, if I had to. ;)