Sparkly Boobs at the Airport? Oh, I gotta pat you down!

How I feel at the airport sometimes… no where to run or hide!

There is something I have noticed over my many, many, times of traveling over the years and with recent trips I’ve been making. Do you have zippers on the bottom of your pants? Well, you shouldn’t wear them, because you will get a swipe down with the metal detector. I figured this out and though I love my pants with the zippers on the bottom part of them, they just make me look better, I forbid them from being worn when I’m traveling in the airport. Zippers in unsuspected areas are obviously dangerous, which no one told me but I’m deducing from my travel experience.

Would you like to wear a shirt with some bedazzling on the chest? Would you like your breasts to look super awesome with some sparkly shiny stuff right in the cleavage area? I seem to have more pairs of shirts than I can count with some sparkles or embellishment on the chest and they don’t make me look like a stuffed sausage on.

Now, obviously, sparkles on your chest must also be a no, no, because not only do I get the wave of the wand but I get my breasts rubbed down from middle of my bra out several times.

I even asked my mom on my recent trip back home if this shirt I was planning to wear would be okay. It only had a little of some flashiness in the breast area and it was loose fitting and quite comfortable to wear. She told me I would be fine, and I went through the line like a pro. Shoes were taken off in record time,  belt whipped off in a flurry of movement, all of my stuff was out of my pocket! I was ready, and an amazing example of airport efficiency with the security check through.

Then, I got pulled aside. That wand was in their hand, and the gloves were on. Those white, latex gloves just itching to pat me down.

She didn’t even need to tell me why, I interrupted her with, “It’s the sparkles on my boobs, right? I even asked my mom if it would be okay!” The lady smiled and nodded, asking me if it would be okay if she patted me down.

Ah, yes, pat me down. It’s my fault, now my tempting boob bedazzled shirts will be put away when I’m going to the airport. If you are feeling me up with an airport pat down I at least want a free alcoholic drink first, please.

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A Sex Toy Party Surprise

I’ve been gone for a while and it’s just because everything has felt so strange since I’ve moved back in my parents. He’s miles away, and I keep up with the lie of us still being together and excluding the fact that he’s moved. We did see each other about a week ago where he came in to do some work stuff and we stayed together at a Hotel. I am now the proud owner of a GPS and am much, much less likely to get lost even though I can’t find my way out of a paper bag.

I had my bachelorette party over the weekend and that was just so much fun. I was supposed to know that it was a sex toy party, but either knew and forgot, or everyone just kept it secret from me. I had not a clue what was going on but absolutely loved that it was a sex toy party. We were all giggling, laughing, and cracking up passing around the different vibrating things varying from a loofah to a spinning penis.

I basically crossed off what I wanted on my list and then the girls could opt to buy me something from there. I only got three things, which surprised and confused the lady holding the party but I just didn’t feel right getting a lot. I didn’t want to feel like I was forcing anyone to get me a lot of stuff so I got the most interesting even though there were other things that caught my eye.

I had my father drop me off and then a friend of mine drove me back to the folks place. So, as you can imagine, I drank a lot. I had like half a bottle of patron, 1/4 of parrot bay rum, and about 10-15 jello shots in the flavors of cosmopolitan and mango martini. One of my friends even got me a flashing bachelorette sash! And, I had two penis cakes one made out of cake and one made out of rice crispy treats. We went out after the sex party concluded and went to a local bar where my sash got more interest from single women then single men.

And, I’ve learned, wearing a bachlorette sash around may cause confrontations with said single women with their boyfriends. I overheard at least once, “Don’t touch me again until you put a ring on my finger!” or something like that. My sash did bring good to us too, it got us a round of buttery nipple shots from a nearby table.

At the end of the night, after I had danced with unwilling people and shouted at some men about my honeymoon and how I would be riding some sharks in the ocean we headed out. On my way out the sexy wedge shoes turned against me and as I was stepping down from one of the steps my ankle dislocated and I tumbled down. I knew that if I wore those shoes my weak ankles would give out but I didn’t want to have my party in my normal black sneakers, so I paid the consequences. Unsurprisingly, after I hurt my ankle I didn’t feel any pain because of all the alcohol I had in my system and I could have skipped my way out of there.

I certainly felt my ankle the next day though but today I think it’s feeling better. All I did the next day was ice it, rest it, and elevate my ankle to make sure it would heal as quickly as possible. To say the least my party was fun, crazy, and you know it’s a great party when you end up falling at the end of it.

The man who I replied, “F*ck that sh*t”

It’s a true story, responding “F*ck that sh*t!” when he asked for my phone number. I clearly traumatized him after that point as his mouth fell open, gaping, and I just laughed. I had probably scared and confused him and many other things all at the same time. I wouldn’t be close to him, begging him to bowl with me, and flirting with him if I didn’t like him.

That was part of the problem. I liked him a lot and I knew it the moment our eyes’ met over the empty food table and especially when we first started talking. He made me laugh, I made him laugh, and that first night I was trying to push him away especially since I knew I liked him. If he didn’t come the second night to the same place, which I knew he was going to be there, then we probably wouldn’t be together. I would have gotten my wish to never be in a relationship again and to be by myself for the rest of my life.

I thought he was a player, and he laughs at this to this day because he’s only dated a few people. He was just so out-going, so much the life of the party, and I thought he was just playing the field and I was part of it.

He bought me my first drink ever from a guy, which he still laughs at to this day.

I was planning to never be in another relationship before him, and certainly planning even more never to get married. I fought the idea of getting married when we were together, because I was afraid we’d end up like my parents, and I’d end up like my mom with her second marriage to my father. I was afraid I wouldn’t be loving, and couldn’t express love like he does through so much affection, hugs, and saying “I love you” all the time. I’ve slowly picked up on his affection but I still tend to clam up around my family because they are so against any form of it and we don’t even give each other hugs … ever.

One of the things I love the most about him is that when we do get in disagreements we talk it with each other. And then, after we’re done, he forgets about it, and I do the same. I’m so used to always holding onto things later to defend myself that it’s nice to let it go. For us to forgive, forget, move on and it’s still something I’m getting used to.

And, he got me two gifts from Valentine’s Day, and he made me dinner too. I was planning on writing in a card and giving him it but the night before I slept about 10 hours or so, I’ve just been so exhausted. I need to do it today though because I feel like a really bad fiancée and I haven’t been much company lately. I feel like I should make every moment count because soon enough we won’t have these moments any more, for at least 2 months, but working every day this week hasn’t helped at all with this plan.

Let’s get physical, Physical…

hat I feel like going to the Doctor...

So, you’d think I’d have something sexy to write about with the title but I fooled you. It’s time for my yearly exam and I am all psyched out and have been starving myself watching what I eat the past few days so when I step on that scale it doesn’t sound a horn and tell me I’m fat. I have the Wii fit to do that and which is why I don’t exercise on or step foot on the little white stand anymore. It would blow up my skinny Mii into an overweight Mii with my shirt barely fitting and no breasts. This happened every time I weighed myself and I’d always want to throw that damn thing out the window with a wild scream.

But, I held back from this and eventually stopped stepping on the Wii fit stand because it was giving me a huge complex. I’d be .01 pounds heavier, not even an actual pound, and it’d yell at me for gaining .01 pounds and how I failed my goal.

I’d get so depressed about failing my goal, having horns and whistles go off like, “Here piggy, piggy, piggy!” that I haven’t stepped on a scale for a while. It doesn’t help that our normal scale is broken and the Wii fit one is the only one working.

It also doesn’t help when you go to your Doctor’s exam, and you have to be weighed, that you can’t strip down to just your undies for being weighed and it’s winter time so you have more layers on. I make sure to take off my shoes though and every other piece of clothing I can without being called indecent for doing it.

I’ve also stupidly decided I don’t work enough as it is and I’ve picked up every single day this week because I have training on top of my normal work schedule. Surprisingly, I actually do love training and have already sent my outline for training our new therapist to one of our managers because I’m a geek, OCD, and also think very analytically. I’m modifying my training schedule from the first one they gave me to do officially plus I have two more days of training so I’m taking this into account with the teaching outline. It’s one of the things I’m so happy about having an opportunity to do at my job and they’ve finally given me responsibility for all of the training.

Of course, I’ll only be able to do this for as long as I keep my job, which will be until late April hopefully, and I’m definitely going all gung ho into training. This week is just so busy that I can’t even plan or get my things together for the move I’m going to have to make at the end of February. I just want to be done with the Doctor’s visit, know my weight and prepare myself not to freak out.

This party isn’t for you … It’s for me!

So, I told one of my work girls yesterday that I finally had a wedding date. Yesterday was my first somewhat ‘slow’ day in what feels like over a month where I had some openings sporadically, but mainly I was pretty consistent. She lit up with the news and I told her how the fiancée said he was going to do a Bachelor party but he wasn’t quite excited about me having the same kind of party. He seems to think that I might be bad and there might be male strippers or something. And, this is where if he was here I’d look at him funny and say I just went to Chippendales with my Mom, of course I’d go a bit crazy.

The gal I was talking to is a friend of mine and we’ve known each other for 3 years. She started planning and thinking about throwing me a party. See, I wasn’t expecting anyone to do anything for me. My mom was maybe hoping to throw a party for me and my people at work before I had to decide that I would leave after I got married. She wanted to hold like a reception for them and since I’d be gone, the plan was nixed.

But, my friend got super excited and she got that glimmer in her eye. I know the look, it’s the ‘okay, I’ve got an idea and you are going with it!’ kind of twinkle in her eye. She talked about a penis cake and a sex toy party and suddenly … I have a Bachelorette party.

And then, of course, knowing me I feel guilty. I say I don’t want to be a bother and that she doesn’t have to. She talks to one of the hair stylists I’m friends with who has her own house and suddenly the party is at her place. They tell me after I try to go through why they maybe wouldn’t want to throw me a party that ‘This party isn’t for you … it’s for me!’  Which cracks me up and they say it gives them an excuse to have a party and why wouldn’t they throw it for me? They talk the time to talk about stuff when I’m busy with clients so I’ll leave it up to them. I gave them a possible date if they wanted to do it so if they go for it and plan everything out. It’d be a free-for-all anyone can come to it which is nice because I do love and enjoy everyone I work with.

To varying degrees and depending on the day may affect the love, but overall there isn’t one person who I walk in and go “Oh, no, it’s a day I have to work with you.” I get along with the front desk girls, hair stylists, nail techs, and of course my little estheticians with me in the Spa.If my friends at work want to hold the party for me and want to do it I’ll welcome it. They didn’t have to, but it’ll be nice to have a last hurrah. It’s just not so great that I’ll have to leave soon afterward.

Resolutions … Kind of, not really.

As you may or may not know I am not a big fan of New Year Resolutions. I’m also not a big fan of planning ahead. I kind of like to fly by the seat of my pants kind of girl, yet, I do know this year I’m going to have to plan things out. With a big move, losing my job, having to find another one, getting married, a honeymoon, and much more there does have to be some type of plan to go by.

So, here’s my Kind of, Not really Resolutions:

             1. I’m going to need to get another license and reapply for it. This is a new year resolution that has to be done. In this same category is looking for another job in the place we move that I’m happy with. I make the resolution to not settle for just any kind of Salon/Spa and hopefully find someplace with as great as people I have to work with now and that I can be passionate about.

2. Keep my head above water. There are going to be times I’m sure I will be sad, and miss my family, and feel absolutely crazy without money coming in and so much more, but I must be strong and keep myself afloat. I’m going to try to look at the positives and not lose it. This will definitely be the time I can learn more about who I am and how tough I can be in the next few months.

   3. Be a good wife/partner. I’m guessing I’m not perfect and I know that while I love the man, he isn’t perfect either. I will try to show how much I love him especially when we get separated from each other those couple of months when he moves down first. Also, I’m going to try to not get super stressed about everything we need to do for the wedding before and after he leaves.

4. Take care of myself more and make more ‘me’ time. My job is very physical, and exhausting emotionally, physically, and mentally sometimes depending on the clients. I’ve been trying to take more baths to relax my muscles but I also need to stretch, breathe through my massages, and ice myself after work if I’m in pain. I also need to get at least one massage a month which will be a lot tougher when I leave my work.

I’ll put the crap load of tea I bought just recently in the take care of myself area for ‘self-care.’
5. Make time for more of the hobbies I love to do. I love to draw, paint, write, make my own handmade cards, and necklaces. I can be a very creative person. It’s just hard to do these things I love when I’m tired, exhausted, and mainly just want to eat and sleep as much as I can to re-cooperate for work again. This is a positive for the whole moving down there and not having a job thing, I can actually have the time do some of the things I love.  And, maybe be able to volunteer for things like I used to when I was a kid.

Like volunteering at a butterfly garden, working with animals, or even doing volunteer work with kids.

6. Be kind of, sort of … social. With moving down to someplace I’ve never been before, thousands of miles away from my family and work friends, I’m going to have to throw myself in the shark tank and try to do some social things. This is part of the idea of volunteering for stuff I’m interested in that I will meet with cool people who also might like something I like. Or, maybe I will find some dance clubs because I absolutely love to get my groove on.

7. Try to keep in contact with my few friends up here. I know how long distance relationships don’t work because almost every relationship I’ve been in has been long distance and it’s tough. It’s even tougher with friends, and I’m hoping to at least stay in contact. By ‘staying in contact’ I mean sending texts back and forth checking up on how things are.

I’ll try to see if I can do these few things for my Kind of, Not really New Years Resolutions.

Crawlies creeping all over

There is this problem I’ve had with the fiancée that I’ve never had before. It’s because he brings fresh fruit and veggies in and they sit for quite a while, don’t get eaten, and then mayhem happens. Bugs somehow hitch hike inside and I am fighting off an invasion of such magnitude that I don’t know quite how to get out of here alive. The invaders are tiny, winged most of the time, or as in this time, seem to hop and jump like little fleas. Let me say that I do like bugs, have liked them before I could talk or walk, but, I do not like them in the house. If they are in my territory, they are dead.

I’ve been crazy lately because of the invaders and for the fact that this is the second time this has happened and I have mainly fought the battle against the fruit insects alone. I came home after a long shift at work, I was tired, barely had a lunch, and noticed the horrific smell in our kitchen was still not gone. I had taken out pizza boxes, and started my ritual of running the sink water to try to flush the stank out.

Oh, then there scurried the tiny little flea looking things and I saw them run to the box of onions and stuff. There were so many of them I went into panic mode. With the water boiling hot I sprayed the counter over and over again until everything was soaked in that corner and the invaders were drowned. Yet, I didn’t get them all and there have been stragglers who have survived that every time I see them I just go crazy. My family never has fresh produce so I’ve never dealt with this before, and he can never see them or kill the bugs so I mainly battle them by myself.

The stank in the kitchen is much better since obviously the produce was rotting and I told him to keep an eye on stuff like that. He told me we were only going to be living here, at our apartment, for only another 2 months. I don’t think he got the point.

How the hell did I end up in a Christmas flash mob?

Wow, something weird happened today. So, I went to the mall to walk around, waste some time, I didn’t go over to my folks like I normally do because my mom had a work meeting to go to so I decided to stay at the apartment. I will just have to deal with my dirty laundry and save it until next week to wash. There was something weird going on, there were lights, there were cameras, and a bunch of people with name tags walking around. All the stores and shops I wanted to get into had a ton of cable on the ground, or I was scared I might possibly get stuck in the epicenter of it all.

There was this escalator that seemed to be the start of it and this girl who kept walking around and all that. Everyone just stood by the railing and stared, and I went to it several times and didn’t see anything of interest either.

There was lights, cameras, but no action.

Then, it happened. Music came on so loud that everyone kind of stopped, and those in stores ran out. Lip synching happened with the music and suddenly people were emerging from all over the place. There were people dancing and just singing and I couldn’t find a way to get out of their way. I kind of did a circle in one spot and then glued myself to the mall wall.

I was rather scared of all the dancing, singing, frolicking people.

I thought I might be trampled by them. The normal folks around me stood there just as aloof as I was. There were cameras chasing after the hoards of people who were lip synching to the Christmas song and I just didn’t want to be in it. It finished with a grand finale of the huge group of people singing choir style. One lady made eye contact with me with a what the hell is going on?? look on our faces as she exclaimed, “I’m just trying to find a way to get out of here!”

So, if you ever had something on your bucket list like being in a flash mob I just inadvertently accomplished that for you.

The Tree is up! It is decked out in Vegas lights.

As you may all know, and are very much aware, my fiancée just loves Christmas. It is his time of year, his birthday follows around the corner, but he isn’t as unlucky as my poor brother who has it right during the month of Christmas so he generally gets everything lumped together that is called ‘Christmas’ and is told, “Oh… yeah, the Christmas wrap… that’s for your Birthday too!”  Though, ever since I have gotten a job, whether it has been decent paying, or like my first one, minimum wage, I have spoiled my brother in both categories.

My fiancée is all about the tree. Not the crappy attempt at wrapped presents that I made underneath the tree, not even the ornaments which are pretty and all ‘fancy ornaments’, the ones he likes. No, he likes the Vegas showgirl lights on the tree.

And that he can read his book from the lights on the tree.

While, you know, me, I’d just like the tree to have a few sets but otherwise not go too crazy on it. We were part way into the whole lights thing, and I didn’t even know this, so he asked me how the tree looked. I said, well, dear, I think that it has more than enough lights. To which he gave me a shocked, horrified expression, as if I stepped on a puppy Santa had given me himself, and told me, “We are putting more lights up, I just wanted to know where on the tree it was still dark where it needed to be covered.”

Never mess with a man who is obsessed with lights, we put on like three more strings after that.

It feels nice to have the tree up, and I’m personally more impressed with the spread of presents I have underneath it. There is stuff for my brother (of course, I am like Santa Claus with how much I get him), stuff for my fiancée, and stuff for my co-workers. I know what you may be thinking… Presents for your co-workers? I can’t stand working with the people I work with! I mean, I’m barely able to stand them at work and I try my best to ignore them but they are like the worst! Well, I do love my co-workers quite a bit, especially my little estheticians who spend the most time with me back in the Spa, crack me up, and are part of the reason I have so much fun back there.

Getting gifts for my co-workers is one of my most favorite parts about Christmas. I can be totally creative with them, I can get them whatever I want, yet I know their tastes and what they do/don’t like, and I don’t have to call them up to make sure. My family can be so difficult with what I get them, and my brother is a party pooper with most of his gifts being gift cards.

Even if this year will be the last Christmas with my girls from work because the man’s job will move, I’ve decided this doesn’t mean I can’t spoil them. If I have to move, which it’s looking a lot like I will, I’m going to do everything I want to do for them with no regrets. My spa girls mean a lot to me, they’ve been a sounding board the few times I feel like talking about my life, and they’ve been my help when I’ve been behind. I’ve even gotten gifts for a hair stylist I enjoy talking to, and a nail technician I’ve known since I’ve started working at my work. All of them I’d call my friends, so as a friend of Sarah’s, they get to be spoiled by me.

So, how was the lovemaking?

A quick post because I’m an old fart, and an exhausted old fart, and will going to bed soon enough. The man got in from his trip but he’s tired too so he went to sleep before. But, one of my favorite reasons I love where I work is the random stuff you’ll catch around there.

“So, how was the lovemaking that night you got married?” 

“What?”

“You know, the lovemaking. Did you make him dress up or anything like that?” 

“You sound like my mom…”

“I’d make him dress up for me. And then make him dance the first night we are married.”

This was a conversation between two of my co-workers which had me cracking up. The girl in question got married recently so the other girl was asking how things went down and how steamy it got in the bedroom. She refused to answer the question, and so I just sat there, laughing, eating my lunch as the one girl kept going on and on about what she’d make her then husband do that night.

Mainly playing a bit of dress up and role-playing. And probably quite a bit of humiliation, or so it sounded.