I have a problem. I'm no longer raging with hormones. Or is that a problem at all?
I mean, that's why I started this blog in the first place...when Daddy doesn't want to play, I get my release here!
But ever since he broke and dislocated his ankle in a game of flag football, yes, flag football (read: no contact), the sex has been, well...non-existent.
"So, um...how are we going to do it? Will I have to be on top every time?" I asked Daddy, as the ER doctor walked out of the room.
"Frick, I don't knowwwww...just...can you get me the nurse pleeeasse?" Daddy winced and cried out. It was 11PM on a Tuesday night and we'd been waiting in the ER for four hours, since the ambulance came to pick him up from the mucky muddy field. Daddy was laid out in a stretcher, his left ankle bulging and twisted ninety degrees to the left...I kid you not, ninety degrees. I'd post a pic, but I don't want you to barf.
"Um, ok, you need more morphine?" I asked, a little annoyed that he hadn't answered my sexytime question. O
Daddy nodded, looking like a very hurt puppy. I ran out into the main room where all the doctors were in search of a nurse. I ended up bumping into the hot doctor that was tending to Daddy earlier.
"So um hey, how long dya think he'll be out for? Like, immobile, not being able to walk, move around, crawl, kneel.. you know.."
Hot doc gave me a weird look and was all, "we're not sure yet. I'm just going over his X-rays and it looks really bad. There's a big chance he's going to need surgery ASAP."
"Ugh, that sucks! But thanks!" I hurriedly found the nurse and told her to bring more drugs to Room 11.
Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong. Like, I majored in communications and all but had I put more effort into learning sig figs, memorzing trigonometry rules and actually passed Biology 10, maybe, just maybe I could've been a doctor of some sorts, cavorting with other doctors and doing doctory things and being considered part of the elite crowd because I spent all my youth behind books and doing residencies. I mean, frick, these doctors were only a few years older than me!
Then again, doctors work so much and lead such stressful lives, I'll bet they don't have as much sex as a normal person would.
"Did you ask me about having sex just now?" Daddy demanded, eyes all teary after enduring a reduction. For those of you unfamiliar with that term, let me explain what happens during a reduction. A team of doctors and nurses kicky everyone out of the room and strap on a bunch of tubes and attach a bunch of device to the patient, slowly give him a steady stream of drugs (on the street, it's called Special K) and then, attempt to pull, twist and put back in place the body part that is out of place.
"Um...why do you ask?" I treaded cautiously, feeling guilty about my selfish inquisition earlier. I just remembered what the nurse had told me about people on Special K. They don't remember anything.
"I dunno. I just thought you did. Then again, I thought I saw a rainbow and an elevator full of purple orks who were trying to come get me..."
"Nope, not at all!" I happily replied. "But now that you've brought it up..."
"Don't start." Daddy stopped me. I suppose I'll give him a week to think about it.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Boys will be boys
I don't know what it is with boys...no matter what age they are, they still manage to regress back into that three-year-old sitting in the sandbox beside you, trying to snatch your pail away from you and hitting you on the head with your own shovel...because he likes you and that's the only way he knows how to express it.
Fast forward 20-something years and throw in a Blackberry and email account and pheromones. Displays of affection have now been upgraded from snatching and beating you with your own belongings to misleading and crude text messages and random hand-drawn pictures in your email. And name calling.
Scenario 1
From my "cousin", the guy I grew up with and have known since we were four-months-old and sat in the same playpen. No, we aren't blood related, but with a history of getting our diapers changed side-by-side and calling each others' parents 'auntie and uncle', I think that qualifies for a family relation.
"Cousin": Congrats on your engagement. Damn, I can't believe I never got a chance!
Me: Thanks..um, what!?
"Cousin": Well you know, before you got engaged, we could've totally hooked up and made my kindergarten dreams come true
Me: Dude, you're my cousin. That's disgusting. I've told you several times, get over it, it's not gonna happen!
Scenario 2
From a friend, a guy I've known for a few years and have worked out the whole "it's better that we're close friends" issue.
Friend: Hey stupiduglyfartface, hows it going?
Me: Good! Whatsup dickwad
Friend: not much, you smell and i can smell it from all the way across the country
Me: Well your ugliness has thrown off my entire day, so go eat moss
Friend: ok well i gotta go. try not to fall in love with an extinct species of moss, fartbrain.
Scenario 3
From another male friend, purely platonic.
Friend: Go check your email account. This is what will happen if you delete your blog
Me: You can't stop me from deleting my blog. I want it to be totally anonymous and now you and eight other people know its me.
Friend: Go check your email account, it'll explain everything.
And this is what I get in my email:
Me: Omg did you just draw this, scan it and email it to me all within a span of three minutes?
Friend: What, you don't like my artwork?
Me: No, i like it, i'm just suprised you did all that just to prove a point.
Friend: I did that last time too, no biggie
Me: Yes, I recall. I thought it was just some random pic you had laying around and sent it on a whim just to prove another meaningless point of yours!
Pic in question:
Tsk, tsk. Boys will be boys.
Fast forward 20-something years and throw in a Blackberry and email account and pheromones. Displays of affection have now been upgraded from snatching and beating you with your own belongings to misleading and crude text messages and random hand-drawn pictures in your email. And name calling.
Scenario 1
From my "cousin", the guy I grew up with and have known since we were four-months-old and sat in the same playpen. No, we aren't blood related, but with a history of getting our diapers changed side-by-side and calling each others' parents 'auntie and uncle', I think that qualifies for a family relation.
"Cousin": Congrats on your engagement. Damn, I can't believe I never got a chance!
Me: Thanks..um, what!?
"Cousin": Well you know, before you got engaged, we could've totally hooked up and made my kindergarten dreams come true
Me: Dude, you're my cousin. That's disgusting. I've told you several times, get over it, it's not gonna happen!
Scenario 2
From a friend, a guy I've known for a few years and have worked out the whole "it's better that we're close friends" issue.
Friend: Hey stupiduglyfartface, hows it going?
Me: Good! Whatsup dickwad
Friend: not much, you smell and i can smell it from all the way across the country
Me: Well your ugliness has thrown off my entire day, so go eat moss
Friend: ok well i gotta go. try not to fall in love with an extinct species of moss, fartbrain.
Scenario 3
From another male friend, purely platonic.
Friend: Go check your email account. This is what will happen if you delete your blog
Me: You can't stop me from deleting my blog. I want it to be totally anonymous and now you and eight other people know its me.
Friend: Go check your email account, it'll explain everything.
And this is what I get in my email:
Me: Omg did you just draw this, scan it and email it to me all within a span of three minutes?
Friend: What, you don't like my artwork?
Me: No, i like it, i'm just suprised you did all that just to prove a point.
Friend: I did that last time too, no biggie
Me: Yes, I recall. I thought it was just some random pic you had laying around and sent it on a whim just to prove another meaningless point of yours!
Pic in question:
Tsk, tsk. Boys will be boys.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Everyone is just soooooo nice. Now go take a shower.
It was an incredibly rainy Friday morning and I had settled on a thin and tight,long Ed Hardy-style long sleeved shirt with a pair of red boots for my audition. No, it wasn't lingerie in the slightest bit, but I figured it looked skanky enough but not too skanky that I'd feel like taking a scalding hot shower right after I walked out of that room.
I arrived early enough, like I always do, to size up the competition and eavesdrop on the others' auditions. I always find it interesting how other people interpret a script, or in some cases, a few words. In this instance, it was a few lines and of course the daunting task of showing the casting director that I could pole dance.
"...and all I've got is Pass That Dutch...on my phone...10 seconds or so...", I overheard as I walked into the waiting room. The casting director had just peeked out of a small office for a few minutes to explain the audition to four other girls in the room. Girl number one walked into the office and closed the door behind her.
"Hey, I actually didn't catch most of that...what'd she say?" I casually asked the others as I turned off my iPod and put it away. I recently resorted to bringing my iPod to auditions so I could get psyched up about going to them in the first place and avoid being bombarded by AEVD (Actors' Egotistical Verbal Diarrhea) while waiting my turn.
"Oh she said she has no music but wants us to dance for 10 seconds to the music on her phone. Miss Elliot's Pass That Dutch," a cute and chirpy girl with straight-cut bangs replied. She looked like she was there for a Mad Men audition. Very 50s chic, hiding under a black trench coat and pulling it even more close together while she spoke.
"That'll be a hoot," another girl responded, while ripping of her black trench coat and pulling on a pair of knee-high black leather boots. She had long brown hair and compulsively kept tossing it from side to side, revealing a half buzz cut on the right side of her head.
What a strange mix of Asian girls, I thought to myself. No one here actually looked Asian. They must be halfers!
"Hey, how's it going? It's been awhile," a familiar voice called out from behind me.
I turned around and saw Kelly, the lead Asian nurse that I worked with on my first flick as Sexy Asian Nurse #2. We caught up for a bit, the kind of chit chat that one could do without; five minutes of my life I'll never get back with a convo that went like this:
Me: I've been doing well. How've you been?
Kelly: Oh WOW, I've been doing reaaally well. Like craaaazy busy.
Me: Oh really? Lucky. I found it's been kinda slow. What have you been working on?
Kelly: Well I just finished another movie and the director was just soooo nice. Like, he was the most nicest and supportive guy and really wanted to see me do well...just so nice.
Me: Oh cool. Yeah, this is my first audition in a few weeks. I think there's been a slow demand for Chinese people or something ha ha ha.
Kelly: Noway, really? I just had an audition for this movie and OMG, I had to show my BOOBS.. and it was all men. Like the producer and director were there too, but OMG the producer was soooo nice. I mean like, sooooo nice to work with and even if I don't get the part at least I got to meet him and he was just sooo nice to talk to and such...
Ok, so I just wasted about one minute of YOUR life. My apologies. But surely you now understand the need for the iPod at these things. I call this "actor speak". Have you ever noticed in any media interview with any actor? Someone they've worked with is always just "soooo nice". Mind you, everyone (well, men anyway) is just so much nicer when you show them your boobs.
Buzz-cut girl was up next and the three of us remained waiting, silently, all trying to listen in on her audition. 50s chic girl kept going on about how she felt too under dressed, in her white lacy bra top and yoga pants. I never got to see of course, as she kept her trench coat on as she walked into the audition room. Kelly, of course, stripped down to her panties in the waiting room and put on what resembled a thick, oversized plaid belt and a tank top.
"Nice, skirt?" I said.
"Aw thanks hun! Thank goodness it's a female casting director, hey?"
Amen to that, I thought. It was awkward as hell already, I concluded as I walked into the room, which was basically a small office in the movie studio, with a small home video camera set up in the corner and the casting director sitting behind a desk.
I hit my lines perfectly and even got a good laugh from the casting director. Everything was going well until I had to dance. Which is supposed to be the easiest part for me considering I cheered professionally for a pro-football team last year and took two years of pole dancing lessons, but what you don't know about me is that I actually have a HUGE fear of dancing.
Further to that fact, there was NO POLE in the room.
"Um, there's no pole...so...you just want dance moves?"
"Sure yeah! I'll just play the music and just go with it for a couple of seconds.." The music started, mid-song, and I just went with it. I won't lie. It was awkward as hell. I could barely hear the music and I made the mistake of looking at the camera which made me feel like I was part of some really bad amateur porn flick where the girl doesn't know what to do next and is waiting for something to happen so she can react to it. Ten seconds felt like forever. And with no pole, there was nothing I could actually do. I only had about 2.5 feet of space to move around in between the wall and the desk.
Alas the music stopped, I thanked her for seeing me and bolted out the room. And instantly felt the need to take a scalding hot shower.
I arrived early enough, like I always do, to size up the competition and eavesdrop on the others' auditions. I always find it interesting how other people interpret a script, or in some cases, a few words. In this instance, it was a few lines and of course the daunting task of showing the casting director that I could pole dance.
"...and all I've got is Pass That Dutch...on my phone...10 seconds or so...", I overheard as I walked into the waiting room. The casting director had just peeked out of a small office for a few minutes to explain the audition to four other girls in the room. Girl number one walked into the office and closed the door behind her.
"Hey, I actually didn't catch most of that...what'd she say?" I casually asked the others as I turned off my iPod and put it away. I recently resorted to bringing my iPod to auditions so I could get psyched up about going to them in the first place and avoid being bombarded by AEVD (Actors' Egotistical Verbal Diarrhea) while waiting my turn.
"Oh she said she has no music but wants us to dance for 10 seconds to the music on her phone. Miss Elliot's Pass That Dutch," a cute and chirpy girl with straight-cut bangs replied. She looked like she was there for a Mad Men audition. Very 50s chic, hiding under a black trench coat and pulling it even more close together while she spoke.
"That'll be a hoot," another girl responded, while ripping of her black trench coat and pulling on a pair of knee-high black leather boots. She had long brown hair and compulsively kept tossing it from side to side, revealing a half buzz cut on the right side of her head.
What a strange mix of Asian girls, I thought to myself. No one here actually looked Asian. They must be halfers!
"Hey, how's it going? It's been awhile," a familiar voice called out from behind me.
I turned around and saw Kelly, the lead Asian nurse that I worked with on my first flick as Sexy Asian Nurse #2. We caught up for a bit, the kind of chit chat that one could do without; five minutes of my life I'll never get back with a convo that went like this:
Me: I've been doing well. How've you been?
Kelly: Oh WOW, I've been doing reaaally well. Like craaaazy busy.
Me: Oh really? Lucky. I found it's been kinda slow. What have you been working on?
Kelly: Well I just finished another movie and the director was just soooo nice. Like, he was the most nicest and supportive guy and really wanted to see me do well...just so nice.
Me: Oh cool. Yeah, this is my first audition in a few weeks. I think there's been a slow demand for Chinese people or something ha ha ha.
Kelly: Noway, really? I just had an audition for this movie and OMG, I had to show my BOOBS.. and it was all men. Like the producer and director were there too, but OMG the producer was soooo nice. I mean like, sooooo nice to work with and even if I don't get the part at least I got to meet him and he was just sooo nice to talk to and such...
Ok, so I just wasted about one minute of YOUR life. My apologies. But surely you now understand the need for the iPod at these things. I call this "actor speak". Have you ever noticed in any media interview with any actor? Someone they've worked with is always just "soooo nice". Mind you, everyone (well, men anyway) is just so much nicer when you show them your boobs.
Buzz-cut girl was up next and the three of us remained waiting, silently, all trying to listen in on her audition. 50s chic girl kept going on about how she felt too under dressed, in her white lacy bra top and yoga pants. I never got to see of course, as she kept her trench coat on as she walked into the audition room. Kelly, of course, stripped down to her panties in the waiting room and put on what resembled a thick, oversized plaid belt and a tank top.
"Nice, skirt?" I said.
"Aw thanks hun! Thank goodness it's a female casting director, hey?"
Amen to that, I thought. It was awkward as hell already, I concluded as I walked into the room, which was basically a small office in the movie studio, with a small home video camera set up in the corner and the casting director sitting behind a desk.
I hit my lines perfectly and even got a good laugh from the casting director. Everything was going well until I had to dance. Which is supposed to be the easiest part for me considering I cheered professionally for a pro-football team last year and took two years of pole dancing lessons, but what you don't know about me is that I actually have a HUGE fear of dancing.
Further to that fact, there was NO POLE in the room.
"Um, there's no pole...so...you just want dance moves?"
"Sure yeah! I'll just play the music and just go with it for a couple of seconds.." The music started, mid-song, and I just went with it. I won't lie. It was awkward as hell. I could barely hear the music and I made the mistake of looking at the camera which made me feel like I was part of some really bad amateur porn flick where the girl doesn't know what to do next and is waiting for something to happen so she can react to it. Ten seconds felt like forever. And with no pole, there was nothing I could actually do. I only had about 2.5 feet of space to move around in between the wall and the desk.
Alas the music stopped, I thanked her for seeing me and bolted out the room. And instantly felt the need to take a scalding hot shower.
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