The Boudoir Experience

budiouphotoAs you may or may not know I signed up for yet another Boudoir Photo Shoot, even though I had done one early in the year. The photo shoot was so much fun, the pictures turned out great, and it turned out to not be a complete robbery of my wallet to get some of the professional pictures. All last month I was working out, walking, and eating a little more carefully in preparation of the Boudoir action I’d be getting.

I collected more little outfits to wear at discounted prices and made sure that they fit. Believe it or not as it came down closer to my photo shoot time I share with my coworkers I’d be getting it done. They were excited for me and so I buzzed with excitement when they day finally came.

This time I was going to try a traditional corset where someone ties you up so you can’t breathe, can’t move, and in general can’t think with it on. My husband instructed me to breathe in and out at the opportune time and of course I breathed out when I should have breathed in because he was trying to kill me. Those little strings pulled tighter and I wondered if the corset was giving me a bear hug I could never get out of. He kept on pulling and pulling obviously enjoying seeing me squirm in pain.

When he was all finished he had me try to bend over, I could barely accomplish this and had to bend at the right angle. My wonderful hubby then said it was too loose if I could bend over, so I ran away from him and stupidly drove myself to my photo shoot.

I nearly crashed into the car in front of me more times than I can count. I told myself to focus on the road but my mind kept on trying to find solutions to breathe better without pain. That corset choked my rib cage with a vengeance and I wondered how women did this when this piece of torture was a fashion necessity. This time for my cover up clothes I wore my little shirt dress that I love since I can’t imagine wearing the corset with jeans. Once I got to the location they sat me down (ouch!) and fancied up my hair and put on some smokey eye makeup plus some fake eyelashes.

This time I was so much more relaxed to be half-naked with another woman in the room who coincidentally had a camera with her. I could feel myself less guarded and also less hyper this time. The smiling and different looks came easier to me, and I was out of my head with being self-conscious. And not being self-conscious when you’ve spent your whole life being that way is definitely priceless.

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.

My better half makes my home complete

He’s finally coming home, tonight, which this week feels like it’s moved so slow since the moment he left. And, like I said, he is used to living alone and has been alone for a long time before he met me. I’ve always been with the folks or with people and it definitely is quite a different feeling when you are in an apartment and there is no one else in it with you. It doesn’t feel quite the same, it feels empty, but also not as complete. Home is where the heart is and my heart is with the man, and so it’s been quite a disconnected feeling having him gone.

I even got the apartment somewhat ‘prepped’ for him. I know that one of the things we do is to get our Starbucks water cups ready from the tap and he likes a lot of ice in his cup, me, not so much. My teeth tend to be sensitive and he likes everything cold, so I got his empty cup, filled it up with all ice, and then put some water in it. I set it inside of the room with the Queen bed so he’ll have it ready.

I also ended up writing a little note and putting it on his bed… telling him how much I missed him. Plus, the get well card I got for him and I to send to his Step-Dad since he just got out of the hospital and broke his ankle by falling off of a ladder. I swear, his Step-Dad does way too much handiwork around the house and should take it a lot more easy, but he wouldn’t listen to me, the man, or anyone else. He likes to do what makes him happy, and fixing things definitely is a big hobby of his.

LL (the caterpillar) is in his Chrysalis since the last time I saw him. When I left him he was hanging from a ‘J’ position and very still. I went over to the folks to do some laundry and to sleep over, which, of course, that place used to be my home before I moved in with the man. Now, I feel like a stranger in my old room and that twin bed keeps me up all night tossing and turning! On Wednesday I went in to my work to get a facial from one of my little estheticians and I’m also going to be taking her out this Sunday for post-date birthday celebration. I’m thinking I might get her some flowers on Sunday too because I found out she loves them and thought a cute little bouquet might be nice.

She’s one of the few gals who knows about my personal life, and was the first and only person to find out the day when I got engaged. I told her how much I was missing the man and she asked me if we were killing each other yet spending so much time together with me moved in. The thing is, that hasn’t been a problem and I ended up telling her that I couldn’t be happier to come home to him especially after a long, hard day at work. Even though I’m paying for ‘rent’, this now feels like our place and a relationship has to be two people working together. Not one person who takes, takes, and another who gives, gives, and who end up resenting each other in the end. There’s a give and a take, and you need to both work together as a team, even though my mother tells me that she made every man she was in a relationship with pay, and do, everything. She even had my father pay off all of her credit card bills before they got married. I know how that turned out in the end… not well at all.

I told the gal during the facial that I could have all the money in the world, and be miserable, and be alone, or, I could be with the best person I could ask for, be happy, have maybe less money, but find and hold onto the love of my life. She was kind of funny, she said to me, “What got into you? That doesn’t sound like you at all! Did something happen?” Me and her both have this thing about money, we like to keep it, we don’t like to spend it, she’s like my fellow money sister when it comes to how she handles it. But, I just told her it’s me just realizing how great it is to move in and be with the man. Plus, just trying to work through my issues with money, even though I’m not perfect.

And, having him to come home to and just getting a hug from the man, and cuddling up to him when we do watch TV is wonderful. And doing that consistently is even better, plus, just finally not being a gypsy may be a big help too.

When you dance and no one joins you…

Okay, so, I don’t really party too much. I’m very much a home body, and like to be by myself. And, well, I just never learned/wanted to party even before I was 21 or after for that matter. One of the girls at work was turning 21 and a bunch of work people were going so I decided I’d take the plunge and show up at dinner, and at the drinking hole of choice.

Why is it always on someone else’s 21st birthday party that I get free drinks and chug it down? I’m one of those cheap-o drinkers that can’t drink too much because I won’t spend the money, but if someone else has spent the money, and can’t finish their drink, or even better, got it for me, am I going to refuse it? No! I will toss that back with a merry little dance.

Talking about dancing, why is it that people need to have like 5 drinks before they can dance? Do they think that they have the mad skills of a true dancer after several of them? Or, more to the point, they have 5 or more drinks before they dance so that in the morning they forget about what they did. That’s probably the truer statement of the two. For me, I will just start busting my groove everywhere, anywhere, whether I’m drinking water or drinking a vodka whatever. I’m always the lone dancer, but whenever I hear music my hips start a moving, and then my shoulders, and suddenly I’m getting down with my bad self.

It’s a sickness I don’t want to be cured of. Oh no.

I stopped drinking at 2 drinks, then ended up being offered a shot or two. My mom was on high alert because she knew I was doing this and was already warning me to watch myself and texting me during the entire escapade. I had dinner with the girls at six, ended up over at the watering hole at eight, and ended up leaving around 12 o’clock at night. It was a fun time, but I’m glad I don’t do it that often. I had to kind-of-sorta parallel park and since I had problems doing this when I was stone cold sober I was a little nervous once I did have some drinks.

So, my mom keeps texting me. Do you want me to come over? I finally said yeah, that I was afraid getting out of the parking spot and it might be a situation. She shows up, I hop in my car, back up, head out, no problem. I’m following her like my beacon in the light. Then, she turns off where I know isn’t the way back home. I call her up, tell her she’s going the wrong way, but she’s going to hop on the tollway and wants me to too.

Well, I’m a bull-head. I took local and didn’t have a problem. Got back after her and decided to spend the night over at the folks because it was closer than going over to the man’s. Just to play it safe.

The aftermath of this drinking situation are a sour stomach, a pretty much sleepless night, but it could be worse. Every time I drink it seems to mess up my stomach, so I’m used to that, and my nose was congested so that didn’t help me sleep either. I don’t have to go to work today and I’m probably going down to see my brother and hang out with him. I think I got the drinking gene from him, my mother is a lightweight, and so is my father, and my brother… he’s like a fish. The stories of him drinking are quite something and hilarious. He’s more of a beer fan, I’m more of a vodka girl.

But, it’s nice these kind of partying days/nights aren’t too frequent (like hardly ever). My stomach tends to be upset by the tiniest things and you force a lot of alcohol for it to deal with and it’s not happy. And, if it isn’t happy, well, neither are you. Plus, unless if you are drinking with the drinkers it’s hard to communicate with them. It’s like you develop a second  buzzed/drunk language that even if you don’t understand them, it’s still somehow hilarious what anyone is saying.