Posts Tagged ‘snuggling’

SEX!

May 13, 2015

Just kidding.

Got your attention though, didn’t it?

I haven’t had sex in months.

The again, considering the last date I went on, homeless dude, it’s probably a good thing.

Unfortunately, I also have not been on a date since said man without house took me on a picnic–it’s got to get better.

My ex and I recently re-established contact, via text, we have not seen each other in person, and re-friended on Facebook.

I think it has been a little unsettling for both of us and I suggested that we could unfriend should it be too uncomfortable.

He said no, although he may when he sees photos of me and my new bf posted on my timeline.

I’m glad he’s got faith in me.

There’s no new boyfriend.

See above sentence about homeless man date.

Who, to give him credit, was at least highly intelligent and interesting, just not having pot to piss in nor a couch to snuggle on, gets a girl down.

Plus he was a little older than I wanted to date.

It cut a little close to the bone, it was sort of like going on a date with my homeless dad.

No thank you.

I certainly have been getting a lot of really nice feedback though, that I look good, that I am sparkling.

“I’m wearing glitter eyeshadow,” I pointed out to the man giving me a compliment.

“Girl, I meant your eyes are sparkling, take a compliment,” he said, “you look beautiful.”

Thank you.

I can say thank you, I can.

I can appreciate a compliment.

I can accept abundance and love in my life.

I made some space for it today.

I let go the scooter.

I have been in communication with a friend of mine who is a big Vespa aficionado and a bit of a gear head and he’s into taking her apart and seeing if he can get it to run and letting it be a fun project that he’s going to enlist another friend in.

Great.

Leave me out of it.

I called Scooter Centre and said my friend, ______________ is coming in to pick up my scooter, you may feel free to hand over the keys to him.

“What’s your last name again?”

I spelled it out, “I was the girl crying in the shop that your dad was talking to and patting on the arm sympathetically.”

“Oh yeah, I remember you!”

Great kid.

Glad to help with your recall.

“Oh yeah, I remember you, you wear flowers in your hair and cry a lot when you share.”

Ah.

The crying.

So I lead with my heart.

So what?

I don’t believe that’s a bad thing.

Sure, my heart gets pummeled sometimes, but it’s worth it, I get to feel you know.

FEELINGS.

Anyway.

Today I felt free.

I told my friend I would sign the title over to him and bring the spare set of keys with me on Friday when I go cover my commitment at Our Lady of SafeWay.

I’ll get a hug.

He’ll get the title.

And then I’m done.

Free.

Free to make room for what ever God wants in my life.

Instead of holding onto something, that when I am honest, with myself and myself only, never really worked out well for me.

When I am honest, I had qualms all along about buying.

I need to remember to listen to that gut instinct and I will next time.

It was a mixture of too good to be true and also I felt like I was getting something that I couldn’t get anywhere else, financing.

My friend who sold it to me accepted $300 down and took $200 a month until I paid off the $2650.

Everyone I talked to said it sounded like a great deal and I went for it–paying over the monthly payment and paying even when I was having issues with it.

But I didn’t research it, I didn’t listen to my gut, and when I felt funny about it, I quashed the feelings.

And well.

Guess I learned.

So it goes.

I feel clean about it and feel like I moved through the stages of anger, grief, denial, depression (not so much, but there was plenty of anger and fear and a bit of grief, see crying in scooter shop) to acceptance.

I will hold onto something, an idea, a person, place, thing, scooter, you name it, far past its utility because I am often in fear that I won’t get what I deserve or that there is not better for me or whatever the reason, I hold on, then I get dragged.

I don’t have to be dragged any longer.

And when I open my hands to drop the keys into the palm of my friends hands and sign over the title I will open up my hands for whatever comes next, it tends to be much better for me and I am excited to see what happens next.

I hope there’s some sex involved.

Sorry, can’t help it.

I need to go on a date.

I am not desperate.

Yet.

And I don’t know how letting go of the Vespa correlates, but change is good and when I change I typically get a change of perspective too.

I see things or people in ways I did not see them before.

Is there someone out there waiting for me to see him?

I sure hope so.

My vision’s been cleared and I am ready to move on.

I’ll be riding my bicycle or walking, but I’m moving on.

Who knows.

There could be another vehicle out there for me too.

I have always had a lech for a Jeep Wrangle Sport manual in midnight blue.

Not to get too specific.

But you know.

Got to ask for what you want or you may never get it.

I want more than sex too.

Just to remind myself that I won’t foist myself off on the first person who takes an interest.

I want some courting this time around.

Flowers would be a great start.

Or just a date.

Cuppa coffee.

Walk around the block.

Some hand holding.

And a snuggle.

God damn.

I could use a good snuggling.

Got to have some ambitions around here.

And

Kissing!

Which, you know.

Leads to.

Sex.

Once in a while.

Ha.

Made It

July 26, 2014

Although a few times in the early part of the evening after hiking around Masonic Ave, I didn’t think I was going to.

The ankle was a talking and the walking was going slower and slower.

I ran into a concerned friend at the intersection of Waller and Masonic, “are you ok, do you need a ride?”

So sweet.

“I just watched you cross the street and you look like you are having trouble,” he continued when I shook off the offer.

“I am meeting some one, I will be ok, it just snuck up on me.”

And it had, although snuck, perhaps is not the correct word, I could feel it coming around 2:30 p.m. when I was getting tired and the thought of taking the boys to music class was now no longer a fun idea, but a chore.

A chore compounded by the fact that one of the boys tossed his brand new straw fedora hat overboard.

I had no idea where it was and had to curtail my trip through the Pan Handle Park to turn back around and find it.

Brand new hat.

Gone.

And the wind had started to pick up.

I got mad.

I began envisioning the bowing and scraping I was going to have to do and the hat replacement.  He’s a boisterous one and he doesn’t always like to wear the hats, they often go sailing.  I usually retrieve them pretty quick, but I wasn’t on my game and didn’t notice.

To cut myself a tiny modicum of slack, the double wide stroller is hard to see around and there are quite a few times that things get tossed and I have that prickling feeling that something went overboard.

I have lost one hat to this and the mom was cool, then another and I felt bad about it and replaced it out of my own pocket and I just about threw my own tantrum when I realized that here it was another day of having to replace a hat and boy, I don’t freaking feel like it.

I turned the stroller around and began the walk back.

I am still stunned that I found it.

I realized that the hat was gone when we had reached the playground, it had been tossed over five blocks back.  I found it at Cole and Page.

Thank God.

It really was not a big deal, but it indicated to me I was a little off my game.

I was tired.

I had not felt tired going into work.

In fact, I felt exhilarated, alive, awake and ready to take on the day.

I had a good a night and despite not wanting to stay up late, stay up late I did, but it was worth it and it was awful nice to be held.

I love sex.

Who doesn’t?

But a good cuddle after, being tightly held, lying with someone and falling asleep on them, oof, now that is satisfying.

I have had some amazing lovers, but I have not always had amazing sleep over companions.  It is beyond yummy to have both and the latter feels like an additional, unexpected gift to be given.

“I can go, you know, if you need to get some undisturbed sleep,” he said after.

“No, stay, I want you to stay,” I said and he pulled me in, tucked me under his chin and held me tight, I really fell asleep, lights still on, candles still lit.

Lights still on.

I haven’t mentioned that, but perhaps I should.

I love being in a place with my body and myself as a sexual person where I am ok with the lights on.

I am flawed, believe you me, this body has seen some things and done some things and some of the things that I have done to my body have not been kind.

I strive to be as nice to this beautiful body I have been given to walk around in as much as I can.  And I am ok having sex with the lights on.

At least with this partner.

I also like that when I told him when I was getting up and I waffled for a minute not wanting to admit that part of my early rising was so that I could do some morning reading and prayer and writing.

“I could skip the writing,” I said looking at the 6:30 a.m. alarm I was setting, I paused thinking, but I don’t want to.

He interrupted my thought before I could get it fully articulated, “no, don’t skip your morning routine, do your writing.”

And I did.

I woke up at 6:29 a.m.

One minute before the alarm was to sound, took a hot quick shower, dressed, made breakfast, got my hair dried and made coffee.

I did my bend down to the knee and get right with God.

And it was fucking awesome.

Yes, I said God and prayer and sex all in the same blog.

Get over it.

Then I had my oatmeal with banana and raw cocoa and cinnamon, nutmeg, and sea salt and fresh strawberries from the Farmers Market at Stanyan and Waller, drank a big cup of Stumptown Holler Mountain, and had a half hour to write.

Of course I was jazzed when I showed up at work.

But the jazziness wore off and I was tired and cranky and the ankle sore.

I made it, though.

I had to slow down.

But I made it.

I took it easy in music class and the room was hot, so the energy level was low for the boys and I wasn’t stressed and then it was time to go and it was ok, alright, I am almost through the day, through the week, and yes, I didn’t get as much sleep as I wanted, but I did get a lot of insight and a little knookie, and some good catch up time with a darling lady shortly thereafter the hobble along Masonic Avenue.

“Next time we get together, let’s make it a day I can sleep in the next ok?” I said with a smile this morning as he awoke and dressed and I finished up my three pages long hand.

Always a negotiation.

This human thing.

Being intimate is not the act itself, but how I am before and after.

Always the learning.

Always.

Which is better, in case you were wondering.

With overnight snuggling.

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.

I Am So Glad To See You!

March 28, 2014

The music teacher today exclaimed when she saw me and gave me a great big hug and smile.

It was day one of a new session of Music Together class.

My Thursday girl and I had been in another class, before rainy season, and despite not always being into it, I did get into the class.

That’s sort of the point.

You, the adult, get into something, sing, dance, get silly, exaggerate, and they, the child, learn from your example.

I forget that not every nanny is created equal.

I am a good nanny, sometimes a great nanny, and I get into things.

I dance.

I sing, off-key often, but I do sing.

And I get silly.

I also smile, which is really where it’s at.

Smiling.

There was a set of very precocious twin two-year old little girls–brown eyes, brown hair stacked into little doll house buns on their heads, straight bang cut, long eyelashes–running about the room who had not taken the music class before and they were shy with every one, except their mom.

And me.

I had them crawling around my lap and playing tickle and peek-a-boo and dancing.

I don’t really think about it, it’s just what I do.

After music class my charge and I went up to the front to get the prerequisite hand stamp–today’s was a kitty cat with cymbals–and the teacher repeated herself.

“Seriously, I am so relieved you are back, the class is so much more fun to teach with you and A_____ in class.”  She stamped both of my charge’s little paws and I showed her the video I shot of the little girl singing You Are My Sunshine, while playing the miniature guitar she got for her second birthday.

It’s nice to get acknowledged.

I got a lot of acknowledgement today, actually.

I was stopped last week on the side-walk with A______ coming back from the park and asked if I was a nanny, the mom had seen me with my set of boys the day prior in another neighborhood and wanted to hire me.

Then, today, another mom in the park, Alamo Square, came up to me.

Her little boy actually threw himself at my legs and hugged me as I chased A_____ around the grass and giggled like a mad hyena.

The best acknowledgement, however, came from my charge at lunch today.

“Carmen and A_______,” she said and swayed back and forth in her high chair, then she smiled at me and it just was the best little look.

“Are awesome together,” I said, “high-five,” and she smacked my paw with her wee small hand and tilted her head at me.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you too, A______, very, very much,” I responded, “want more apple?”

Yup.

Then she napped for two hours.

Thank you God for little girls who take two-hour naps.

Really.

I read 79 pages in a new book, flipped through the latest Vanity Fair, drank three cups of tea, checked my e-mails, and meditated.

I actually dozed off a little at the end of my meditation.

“Naptation” is my word for it.

It’s unbelievable when it happens and really wonderful.

Nannying is not all sunshine and naps and music class, there’s a lot to navigate, but I am constantly being reminded that I do it really well and that I am sought after and I get to get paid to do something that makes my heart swell up.

As my charge and I were walking up to the park after her two-hour nap, holding hands, pulling crackers, magically, out of my pocket, singing songs, and looking for butterflies, I was amazed again to have this little life in my hands.

I always get protective at intersections and I lifted her up in my arms and she told me that she loved me again and I responded in turn and I don’t even think about how I haven’t worked more than one day a week with this little girl for the last five months, and she loves me and I her.

I fell for her months ago and I have gotten the I love you months back to, but it’s always so good to hear.

Especially when they say it when you are leaving.

Most of the time the focus is on the parent who has just gotten home, as well it should be, but to hear it as I close the door to their home and haul my bike up on my shoulder to ride off into the Sunset, literally, I ride to the Sunset from work, I carries me forward through the wild rush hour traffic and into the next phase of my day.

“Bye Carmen, I love you.”

Not a bad way to end a day of work, I must say.

Tomorrow I have one little guy up in the Castro, then the weekend.

A weekend I was hoping would include a snuggle fest and some movies, but the schedule is not permitting–his and mine.

I may be waiting until next week.

So it goes.

Things aren’t always on my schedule or time line, but when they are supposed to be, they work out and I don’t have to fuck around and manipulate them to get the results I want.

I did have a wild hair of a moment trying to figure out how I could make Saturday work, but there is absolutely no getting out of the three different women I am meeting, one at noon, another at six p.m., another at 7p.m. and then my 8:30p.m. commitment.

Nope.

I get love there too and I can’t let that go.

The snuggle fest will happen.

More love will happen.

More happy will happen.

I just have to show up for what’s happening today and know that love, well, it’s everywhere I look.

I don’t have to make it happen at all.

I just get to show up and be me.

Silly, off-key, giggly, colorful me.

Authentic me.

 

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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