Weird (possibly dead) stuff that makes me happy
Loving my face off…without makeup.
Sep 2nd
A while back, there was a blogger who started some “Bloggers without makeup” thing. I meant to participate, I really did. Now I can’t even remember who it was. I promise to look it up later.
I really started thinking about it, though. This whole makeup thing…what’s the point? To enhance my beauty? That just doesn’t seem fair to the other women around me. I am dead sexy. To cover my flaws? I kind of like my flaws. Those flaws are what make me so very me.
So…I stopped wearing makeup. Almost entirely. In the last three months or so, I think I’ve worn makeup about three times. In the interest of full disclosure, I wasn’t a huge makeup wearer anyway. I’ve never been able to stand foundation on my face and I don’t even understand eyeliner. I’m a simple girl.
I do like to get all gussied up (shut your whore mouth, I live in Texas, where we say things like “gussied”), and put on some makeup and a pretty dress and heels. Day in and day out, though, I am purely a creature of comfort. Why then, was I bothering to put all this junk on my face?
Goal: Learn to love my face, without any makeup at all.
Result: After three months, I can tell you guys that I truly love my face. I can now officially look at it in the mirror and not think I look tired or sick, simply from a lack of mascara or blush. I like my eyes and my smile. I wish I had a bit more color in my cheeks, but it’s nothing terribly important. I’ll just have to do something fun to get a flush, right?
I still feel a little weird when I’m out without any makeup on. Mostly because everyone else is wearing makeup. I’m starting to realize, though, that really, no one notices but me. The difference between mascara and no mascara? That’s pretty much all in my head. No one else cares how long my eyelashes are.
Now, I don’t even love my made up face in pictures. The fact that I’m posting a picture of myself without any makeup at all is a HUGE step forward. And here it is:
Five things that are way sexier in movies than they are in real life, in no particular order.
Sep 1st
Personally, I kind of think movies (and television) are ruining us for real-life interactions with actual people. Despite how often Hollywood may try to think that they’re giving you “real people” characters, they’re just not. And now it’s all so much a part of our lives that I think we’ve almost forgotten how to be real people and interact with other real people. Nowhere is this more true than the sexy time.
And so I give you, in my opinion, five things that are way sexier in the movies than they are in real life:
Affairs: In the movies, everyone is always wearing matching underwear and getting it on in a beautiful hotel suite. That’s just not how it works. In real life, they are messy and usually take place in closets and hallways and cars and stuff.
Sex: In the movies, well, we usually only see the end anyway, but no one ever sweats or does anything clumsy. In real life, sex is sweaty and sometimes you bump heads or laugh or cough in the other person’s mouth. Maybe they should make a movie based around my sex life. I’m one clumsy bitch.
Long Hair: In the movies, women almost always have long hair and it’s never in their faces or anyone else’s. You know, because it’s someone’s JOB to keep it that way. In real life, long hair is in my face, your face, my mouth, your mouth, and I’ve probably just shed it all over the bed and the couch. I still like having longer hair, but man, can it be a pain in the ass.
Big Romantic Gestures: In the movies, these are always awesome and sweet and perfect. No one is worried about money or someone saying no or the whole thing just being one big, cheesy mess. In real life, no one can afford to do nor coordinate the level of BIG ROMANTIC GESTURE you see in the movies. Plus, anything you can think to do, they’ve probably already done in the movies, so then you’re just a big copy cat. Take out the trash when you say you will. That? Is more romantic than you know.
The Beach: In the movies, beaches are the PLACE for the romance. People splash in the water and make out on the sand and have sex on blankets that are magically sand free. In real life? Sand sucks, man. Seriously. It gets in all your crevices and it won’t go away. I’d only have sex on a beach if I was in the market for some vaginal exfoliation. Don’t get me wrong, I love the ocean. Hate the sand. Could we just make the shore out of some sort of wet suit material? Then I will happily have sex on the beach, and not just the drink.
Spam, the other white meat.
Aug 11th
Y’all. I’ve been getting some serious sex-bot spam lately. I usually don’t read it, because, well, why would I read it? But today, this one caught my eye (I apologize in advance if you’re all sensitive):
With kind regards! forward: granny shitting tila tequila bisexual sex , teen diaper pictures bisexual conference or busty shemale thumbs free porn young , amateur print ad models for 2008 free porn no credit card and free indian teen movies japan tiny pussy , bdsm munch milwaukee aurora snow squirt video , amateur watersports videos mature interracial home made or sauder ebony ash computer armoire pregnant squirt sex .
First of all, thank you for the kind regards! Second, I need some clarification. Is “granny shitting” actual grannies…shitting? Or is it other people shitting grannies, in some way? I just want to make sure I have it straight before I commit.
Also, “busty shemale thumbs” really piqued my interest. Is it just the thumbs that are she-male and busty? Or are these busty she-males WITH thumbs? Megan Fox, perhaps?
Moreover, if you want someone interested in squirting, you really should have commented on my dearest GingerMandy’s blog. She LOVES a good squirter.
A while back, I almost got fooled by spam, actually. The comment was this:
I dont truly know what you talking about here. This cant be the only way to think about this can it? It appears like you understand a lot, so why not explore it a lot more? Make it more accessible to everyone else who might not agree with you? Youd get a great deal a lot more individuals behind this if you just stopped making common statements.
It almost even made sense, for the subject matter. But alas, it was from someone named “Diane Von Furstenberg Wrap Dresses. You can’t fool me, Spammer! I’m too quick for you.
I used to get only home loan, financial spam. Now, all I get is porn spam. Sporn? Whatever. It’s like even the spammers know that I haven’t wanted to kiss someone in half a year. But I’m not falling for it. Not even busty she-male thumbs will get me!
(I won’t tell you how close I was to clicking that link out of morbid curiosity about granny shitting, though.)
I’m finally ready.
Jul 26th
This weekend was kind of rough. I had some minor surgery. Yes, I’m okay. There’s no reason to be worried. Plus, I can guarantee you won’t out-worry my friends, so you might as well just focus on your own stuff. I’m okay with that.
Anyway, I actually feel much MUCH better. Finally. There are lots of things I want to talk about, but this morning, there’s only one thing on my mind. And he looks a little something like this:
You see, in 1999, I got a dog. I went to the SPCA and there she was, sitting in her water bowl. Little did I know, this would later be not nearly as cute. I took her home and loved her more than I’ve loved most people in my life. She was my baby. Her name was Peanut.
Then, about a year and a half ago, she died. I’m not going to say any more about it because, well, I cried every time I had to say something about her yesterday, and I don’t really feel like crying this morning.
I didn’t get a new dog right away, because for me, it wasn’t just about having a dog. It was about having Peanut. Plus, a dog is a pretty serious commitment and one I just wasn’t ready to jump into. Yes, my fear of commitment even boils over into caring for animals.
And it’s not that I didn’t think I’d ever love another dog. It was just that I wasn’t ready.
Well, yesterday, apparently I was ready. Because yesterday, I went to the SPCA, just to check things out. I was under no circumstances going to get a puppy. Or a dog. But definitely not a puppy. No potty-training and having my shoes chewed. No whining and barking and yapping. Not for me. No sir.
When I walked in, I saw him. And oh, how cute he was. Just look at that face (above). I was strong, though. I moved on. I didn’t even slow down in the puppy section. I went straight for the grown-up dogs. I walked by each dog. There were lots of adorable ones, lots of sad ones. One in particular sort of yanked on my heart strings. A five-year-old Chow Chow with some sort of skin situation. She was so chill and so beautiful. Just the cutest little face.
But I was strong. I wanted a small dog, if I was going to get a dog. I live in an apartment, and I don’t want to subject a larger dog to the confines again. Peanut was a straight-up apartment dog. She lived in an apartment most of her life, but I still felt bad that she couldn’t run around the way she might want to. She was a German Shepard/Rottweiler mix. She weight about 90 pounds. She was adorable, but do you know how hard it is to find an apartment with a 90-pound Rottweiler mix? Yeah…so I knew I wanted a small dog. And nothing that could be considered aggressive (despite the fact that Peanut was scared of most bugs and never aggressed anything that didn’t aggress her first). And so I walked out of the dog section and back toward the door.
Where I ran into my old friend, cute tiny puppy. So I asked if I could play with him for a few minutes. I should have known better. He’s ridiculously sweet and so cute, you just want to eat him up. And now, he lives with me. We spent our first night together last night, snuggling. He experienced some separation anxiety, which resulting in some high-pitched squealing, this morning while I was in the shower. I think it will pass once he’s more comfortable, though.
They said he came to the shelter from another shelter, with a truck load of his friends. He was so matted, they had to cut off the hair around his waist. But only that hair, go figure. So he looks a little…flock of seagulls right now, in the abdominal area. He was infested with fleas and had two different parasites. My heart just broke to hear the story. I’ll never understand people who treat animals that way.
They named him Sparky at the shelter, but I’m still working on a real name for him. Sparky is my default nickname for people who are being idiots, so I’m sure he’ll still get called that sometime. I can’t decide if he needs a people name or another name. I’m usually really good at naming things, but I’m at a loss, so far. I want to see a little more of his personality before I settle on something.
He’s a little ball of energy, but he’s perfectly willing to sit down and snuggle with me, when I’m ready to relax. Also, he’s a morning person. Which we WILL have to fix. I can’t handle that much cheerful in the mornings. Right now, he’s sitting on his bed, behind my desk, just hanging out. He’s such a good boy.
So what do you guys think? Any name suggestions?
