Posts Tagged ‘cuddling’

I Made It

April 10, 2017

To my weekend!

Thank freaking God.

I have tomorrow and Tuesday off.

Eleven days in a row at work.

Three days in a row of school.

First day off tomorrow.

Who’s not setting an alarm?

Yes.

That’s right.

I am not setting an alarm.

Which makes two days in a row.

I woke up late this morning.

For the first time in forever, I forget to set my alarm.

I really can’t remember the last time I missed setting my alarm, I am a little compulsive about it, I usually set my alarm while I am eating breakfast in the morning and checking my e-mails.

Then I don’t think about it the rest of the day.

I spaced it.

I also typically check it before I go to bed, you know, just in case.

Obviously.

I did not check it and I woke up 45 minutes past my alarm.

Oops.

Fortunately the rain had cleared and I had more time in my morning for the commute in because I could take my scooter.

That and the morning commute is really pretty easy on a Sunday.

I didn’t get a chance to write my morning pages, but I figured, I really just needed that extra 45 minutes of sleep.

Yesterday was a hard day.

Today was easier, shorter, but I still had some frustrations.

Like thinking I had recorded the therapy dyad session I did in Couples Therapy, a half hour recording that I don’t know how, but I somehow deleted.

It was the weirdest thing and I was so over it, the weekend, the classes, the processing, not that any of it was bad, there was a lot of great stuff that happened, it’s just that I’m staring down a lot of work.

Three papers.

Three pretty big projects.

And needing to deal with setting up a new dyad, a fake couple, to practice on and record a new session so that I can write a paper for Couples Therapy, which is also due the week before the last weekend of classes, which I find to be bullshit, but there it is.

The last weekend of classes I have a Trauma paper and presentation due and my Community Mental Health paper due.

Both of them require me to listen to recordings as well.

I did an interview for Community Mental Health and I will need to sit and listen to it, a half hour of interview, and then I will have to listen over again to the podcast we listened to for this weekend of Trauma class, which is two hours long.

I feel a bit over having to do all so much work for these final projects.

But.

That’s what has to happen.

Plus, two weeks from tomorrow I start my supervision for school.

My plate is officially full for April.

I only have three weeks before the next weekend in May.

This means each weekend I need to write a paper.

Le sigh.

At least I had dinner and hang out plans tonight after class.

A lover came into town and we had a rendezvous.

It was lovely to catch up, I haven’t seen him since last semester, right after I had gotten out of school in December.

It was good to  get acquainted again.

Ahem.

It was nice to be in my body for a while instead of my brain.

Although the conversation at dinner was intellectual and thoughtful, he’s smart, I’m smart, we have smart conversation and yummy Thai food at Thai Cottage.

I am grateful for the “reunion” and it feels nice to have had some company.

Heh.

We even watched a video after and snuggled, which is not usually the case, he’s busy, I’m busy, we both live and work far away from each other and he had to get on the road back home, but it was good, so good, to be a human creature, get my atavistic needs met.

Which really are old needs, they are current needs.

But met needs.

I would like to cultivate a relationship that meets more than once every three or four months.

That would be nice.

I’m sure it’s happening though.

And in the mean time I am grateful for my lover and the time we did have.

A little sexy sexy is fun and it was good to feel wanted.

Who doesn’t want to feel wanted?

Anyway.

I don’t have any plans for tomorrow.

I could get up in do yoga, I might, I might not, I really am going to let myself sleep and purposefully not turn on the alarm.

If I’m up and awake in time for the 10 a.m. class I will go.

Even though the teacher is not one of my favorites, I find his classes exceptionally hard and challenging.

I usually spend my time in class wishing it were over or wondering when it will be done.

I don’t normally clock watch a class, but the few times I have had the teacher I do, and I don’t find it that enjoyable.

So maybe I will try for an evening class.

I don’t feel like making any plans.

I could go get a mani/pedi.

I might go to the MOMA.

I haven’t seen the Diane Arbus exhibit nor have I seen the Diebenkorn and Matisse retrospective.

I have not agenda besides sleeping as long as my body wants.

My brain may be a monkey and get me up early, but I suspect that after the romp in bed, the long weekend of classes and eleven days straight at work, I will sleep just fine.

Yeah.

Me and my bed head are pretty tuckered out.

Glad I got through.

Now it’s time for rest.

Night y’all.

Sweet dreams and all that jazz.

Hidden Agenda

April 1, 2014

Failed to Open Page

Internet connectivity is ass right now.

It says, “it” who is it, what is it, my computer says it is connected but there is nothing there.

Hello?

Oh well.

I feel bad, however, not that much, I missed my blogging last night.

(Oh, I am in now, but lost it again, damn you Comcast)

I had an impromptu snuggle session and movie watching night with my friend last night.

We had made plans for this upcoming Friday, but yesterday, as things turned out, was the day, and snuggling, it was had.

I actually expressed to my friend that I was impressed with the snuggling, not just from the coziness of it all, but from the, no moves were made, stand point.

I sort of expected that perhaps moves were to be on the make.

“Let’s get together and snuggle and watch movies,” sounds like the prelude to something else, you know.

At least in my prior experience.

“Nope, I read one of your blogs and you said something to the effect that you needed some human contact, voila, snuggle sesh and movie,” he said.

No hidden agenda.

Just a cuddle.

You know who had the hidden agenda?

Me.

That’s who.

I realized this today, or last night, as I was getting ready for bed, completely throwing my blog to the wind so that I could get some sleep before my nine-hour nanny shift today, I was the person who was expecting something else.

I am the person who wants more.

Not necessarily from my friend, he’s my friend.

But when I went to bed and knelt down to say thanks for my day I giggled, I got exactly what I had asked for, a snuggle session, but what I want, is a snuggle session that leads to sex.

There said it.

Ah.

But there’s more.

I want a snuggle session that leads to sex and a relationship and I suppose I should re-arrange that want to be more along the lines of I want to be in a relationship, have sex, and get snuggles.

I want my cake and I want to eat it too.

It was fantastic practise, I have to say, though, asking for what I want, communicating with my friend, talking about what was happening, and then just having some fun watching a bad movie and getting introduced to my first episode of Sherlock.

Which was amaze balls.

And now I have a back up when I am waiting impatiently for the next Game of Thrones episode.

I don’t have a regret about how it all fell out and I am positive that it was a great step along the way of taking action in my dating life and not living in fantasy.

I still live in fantasy, but it’s getting a little easier, teeny, tiny, increments at a time, to drop the fantasy and move forward.

There’s always going to be someone I could ask out and there are always folks who want to ask me out.

It’s when the two mesh that I am excited for.

Over the last few months it feels like I am getting to sift through more and more of them and that’s also new for me.

I believe it’s that I am finally settled into my place.

I am here.

I am staying here.

I have been in my little studio in-law now for almost seven months.

I am used to the streets and the traffic, of which there was so little tonight I wondered what sporting event was on the television, I mean, really, the streets were bare.

I whipped home on my ride.

Grateful for a dry ride home, although the streets were still wet, it was nice to not have to ride home in the rain.  I also was fortunate enough to make it to work before the downpour hit.

There was thunder and lighting.

My oldest charge got startled at one point and jumped when a loud boom of thunder pealed out of the sky.

I laughed, “it’s ok, bunny, it’s just God bowling.”

I don’t remember where or when I heard that as a kid, but growing up in the Midwest, Wisconsin, I have a fondness for thunderstorms, especially the ones in the summer that break up the monotony of July humidity.

The way the skies peel back, the clouds become inky blue-black and the lighting flashes out of the sky is something marvelous to see.

The smell of it too, the charge in the air, the hot electric intensity and the enormity of nature, then the deluge.

And being caught out in it when you don’t mind because you are so hot from the temperatures and the humidity has broken, it feels amazing.

I can smell the wet grass now, the luminousness of lilacs dripping wet, the blooms sagging down from the force of the rain, their rich heady scent undercutting the wet.

It doesn’t smell like that here, but the freshness of the ride home was invigorating, the cold blooms of jasmine stroked with rain, the sharp smell of wood smoke as I crossed Sunset Ave, hurling toward the blue grey smudge of ocean in front of me, the smell, wild, and wierding from the sea, so good.

I fill my lungs with the lushness of it and love that I am home.

Being settled in one place has allowed me to see my friends more, have more connections, and to be firm in my place here.

I don’t know what the future holds, but there’s a place for me.

I don’t have to have a hidden agenda to get there, even when I don’t know that I was doing that exactly, I suppose it better to say that I had expectations of a different outcome.

A hidden agenda seems to say I was manipulating my actions to get something.

Not interest in manipulation.

I want it for real.

I want the reality of a boyfriend who is my lover and snuggler and friend.

All the good the bad, the weird, the human.

So, whatever, and however that looks and for the rest of it, well, I just go on being me.

Smelling the rich air.

Riding my bicycle.

Laughing and cuddling with whomever wants to laugh and cuddle with me next.

Let me embrace this journey rather than be afraid.

Let me live in this reality.

Begone alluring fantasy.

The real hidden agenda lies in you.

Right now.

Well.

Right now.

I am living for right now.

Snuggle Puppy

March 25, 2014

You’re the one.

Snuggle puppy.

Oh so much fun.

Oooohwheeeooooo.

Or something like that.

I have had the lyrics of a Sandra Boynton children’s book in my head all day, it’s not the worst of her books to have in my head, it could be a sheep says ba, a cow says moo, three pigs in a row say la, la, la.  No!  You say, pigs, they say oink.

If you are just now stumbling on my blog you may be wondering what the fuck is this lady on?

I am a nanny, so I often have weird little snippets of songs or lullabies or books in my head, I can pretty much recite Richard Scarry’s “I am a Bunny” from memory, do an almost perfect recitation of Boyton’s “All the Hippo’s go Berserk,” and tell you a fairy tale at the drop of a hat.

I have snuggle puppy on my mind since I got an interesting invitation for a cuddle and a movie from a dear male friend of mine.

We both have been doing the online dating thing, the not dating thing, the what is wrong with dating thing, the I don’t ever want to date again thing, and I was pleasantly surprised when I got the invitation to watch some movies and have a cuddle snack.

Ah, yes please.

I miss having some arms around me, I do.

And cute boy arms, bring it.

I do wonder if snuggling leads to other things.

Like cuddling.

Or.

Hmmm.

Well, I suppose I just wonder.

I am not opposed to other things happening, I am just going to show up and see what happens.

There’s nothing concrete yet, just some flirtatious messaging.

“One day our kids are going to look back and be able to find all the crazy crap with text each other and all the whack porn we look at, and say, wow, Grandpa Billy sure was kinky,” another friend of mine said to me once as we embarked on a brief affair before I left for Paris.

He was also the one who sent me a stick drawing cartoon of a man and woman in bed wherein the stick man says to stick woman, “how was it?”

And she replies, “read my blog.”

I had some trepidations about writing about the movie and cuddle offer, but then hey, what would I be writing about, it’s what I was thinking about today and it put a smile on my face whenever I did.

Knowing there is cute boy snuggling in my future makes a girl smile.

It helps when the day is long and the boys, my charges, are rambunctious.

Plus, it’s just nice to know someone wants to spend time with me, I like that I am thought of as someone who is a value to others, in their lives, socially, or otherwise.

It makes me feel connected, not alone, and loved.

Nothing wrong with feeling loved.

Or getting loved up.

I am down for it.

Plus, I like to reciprocate.

I love to sit next to a friend and give them a hand rub, show some love, reach out and hug someone, be affectionate, cuddle it up.

I need human contact, I am no good without it.

I am forever grateful that I am in the middle of the boat in my community, that I have any time a number of people who I see and can hug, reach out to, call, love on and be loved back.

It’s pretty damn special.

And I don’t have to wait until Burning Man to get it.

I could be getting it this weekend, snuggling that is, if the chips fall out in my favor.

More will be revealed.

Until then I have some studying to do.

Not much, I don’t feel like I need to read the damn hand book much longer, but tomorrow is the deal.  I take the written test at the DMV for my motorcycle licence.

My appointment is at 10:35 a.m.

I have been carrying the hand book with me for the last week, reading it whenever I had a moment.  I get the impression that the things in bold will be the things that are pertinent to the test, and that has been what I have focused on remembering.

I don’t have work until noon, figure I will be done with the DMV within an hour, hour and fifteen at max, I can’t see the written test taking me that long.  I did the one for the motorcycle safety course in about ten minutes, I was the first one out, and I passed just fine.

That is not to say that I won’t take my time and read the questions, it just means that I am good at taking tests, always have been.

I recall taking a test in 6th grade that I was sure I failed and I got 100%.

One of only two kids to actually pass the test, my teacher let me sit in back at his desk and eat M&M’s while the class retook the test.

I was a teacher’s pet, a bit, I suppose you could say.

I don’t recall many tests where I didn’t do well.

Although there is one in recent memory–when I got my drivers license, I just went and took it and I failed the written, I was shocked.

I hadn’t read the booklet and there’s a great deal of difference between the written test for the CA licence then there was for the WI when I took it.

This time I have read the book, a lot.

I don’t care to fail the test and have to take another morning off to go back and take it.

Every time I see someone on a scooter, I think, they did it, so can I.

And do it I will.

Then I shall celebrate.

With some snuggling.

 

 


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