Sexy!

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt sexy. Recently, though, I’ve been feeling my mojo, though, and have decided that I want to keep that feeling. It’s nice. So today I went shopping – specifically, lingerie shopping. What a ridiculous farce that was!!

First, let me preface this by saying I haven’t worn anything remotely sexy to bed – for sleeping or, ahem, not sleeping in about 16 years. The WCM is not a fan of lingerie, see? It costs money, right? He’s happiest with naked, so that’s how it’s been, unless it was cold out, and then it was flannel. However, I’ve decided that I’m dressing for me first now, and I want to sleep sexy, dammit!

I went to a smallish department store first, where I found relatively little that blew up my dress. There was this one little thing I tried on:While pretty on the hanger, with my short spiky hair, it made me look like a refugee from Tinkerbelle's grove that done grew up all of a sudden, with the requisite wrinkles and gray hairs. Even the padded bra couldn't quite distract me from the freak show of wrinkles and sag that I call my torso. It was ridiculous. There were a couple of other similar disasters until I called a halt and headed for the mall.

There, at a larger department store, I perused my selection. Hmmm, not much in the underwire section. I womanfully grabbed everything I thought might work in the "cover the lumpy-bumpies and still look nice" department. The closest I came to success - and that was indeed a loooooong way off - was with this number:


Alas, no, that's not me. The whole lacing and unlacing thing was what ultimately decided me against this contraption. I'm looking for some "easy access" garment, just in case my man indeed get fired up by it. The last thing I want to do is spend 20 minutes getting in and out of my lingerie. If I can't lift it over my head and be done with it in two seconds, frankly, I'm not interested. Although, it wasn't bad once it was on.

Similar disasters ensued at other stores, including this one:

Pretty, huh? It was, at least, a step in the right direction - covering most of the freak show, but, unfortunately, letting quite a bit hang loose. Um, no. Next!!

So, finally, I headed to where I should have started: Victoria's Secret. In about two minutes of searching and 3 minutes of trying on, I found something lovely that doesn't make me look like one of Tinkerbelle's fairy friends or like I should be working in a cheap bordello. It's fairly sleek, somewhat lacy, covers the necessary bits while revealing just enough of the fun parts to be sexy. Since I bought it, and its matching thong (yikes!), I'm not going to post a picture of it. You can just use your imagination!

Meme, again.

The list as taken from the IMDB. Movies I've seen in bold.

#1. Godfather, The (1972)
#2. Shawshank Redemption, The (1994)
#3. Godfather: Part II, The (1974)
#4. Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, The (2003)
#5. Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The (2002)
#6. Schindler's List (1993)
#7. Shichinin no samurai (1954)
#8. Casablanca (1942)
#9. Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The (2001)
#10. Star Wars (1977)
#11. Citizen Kane (1941)
#12. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)
#13. Dr. Strangelove (1964)
#14. Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980)
#15. Rear Window (1954)
#16. Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)
#17. Pulp Fiction (1994)
#18. Usual Suspects, The (1995)
#19. Memento (2000)
#20. North by Northwest (1959)
#21. 12 Angry Men (1957)
#22. Buono, il brutto, il cattivo, Il (1966)
#23. Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
#24. Psycho (1960)
#25. Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain, Le (2001)
#26. Silence of the Lambs, The (1991)
#27. It's a Wonderful Life (1946)
#28. Goodfellas (1990)
#29. American Beauty (1999)
#30. Sunset Blvd. (1950)
#31. Vertigo (1958)
#32. Matrix, The (1999)
#33. Cidade de Deus (2002)
#34. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)
#35. C'era una volta il West (1968)
#36. Apocalypse Now (1979)
#37. Pianist, The (2002)
#38. Third Man, The (1949)
#39. Paths of Glory (1957)
#40. Taxi Driver (1976)
#41. Fight Club (1999)
#42. Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (2001)
#43. Some Like It Hot (1959)
#44. Double Indemnity (1944)
#45. Boot, Das (1981)
#46. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
#47. Singin' in the Rain (1952)
#48. Chinatown (1974)
#49. L.A. Confidential (1997)
#50. Maltese Falcon, The (1941)
#51. Requiem for a Dream (2000)
#52. All About Eve (1950)
#53. M (1931)
#54. Bridge on the River Kwai, The (1957)
#55. Se7en (1995)
#56. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)
#57. Saving Private Ryan (1998)
#58. Rashômon (1950)
#59. Raging Bull (1980)
#60. Wizard of Oz, The (1939)
#61. Alien (1979)
#62. American History X (1998)
#63. Sting, The (1973)
#64. Léon (1994)
#65. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)
#66. Manchurian Candidate, The (1962)
#67. Vita è bella, La (1997)
#68. Touch of Evil (1958)
#69. Treasure of the Sierra Madre, The (1948)
#70. Finding Nemo (2003)
#71. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
#72. Reservoir Dogs (1992)
#73. Great Escape, The (1963)
#74. Modern Times (1936)
#75. Clockwork Orange, A (1971)
#76. Amadeus (1984)
#77. On the Waterfront (1954)
#78. Ran (1985)
#79. Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003)
#80. Annie Hall (1977)
#81. Wo hu cang long (2000)
#82. Jaws (1975)
#83. Apartment, The (1960)
#84. Braveheart (1995)
#85. High Noon (1952)
#86. Aliens (1986)
#87. Fargo (1996)
#88. Strangers on a Train (1951)
#89. Shining, The (1980)
#90. Metropolis (1927)
#91. Blade Runner (1982)
#92. Sixth Sense, The (1999)
#93. City Lights (1931)
#94. Donnie Darko (2001)
#95. Duck Soup (1933)
#96. Great Dictator, The (1940)
#97. General, The (1927)
#98. Sjunde inseglet, Det (1957)
#99. Princess Bride, The (1987)
#100. Dogville (2003)

Thanks to my friend Hube for this one, yet again. He's got the best memes.

Happy Memorial Day

Ok, so you all know I don't do patriotic very often. But since I miss my PopPop, I'm kind of sad remembering him today.

My Grandfather was a World War II vet, having fought in France and Germany. PopPop was a gentle man, soft-spoken and friendly. He was an avid gardener, and was always happiest working outside among his plants or in his two greenhouses. Cacti were his specialty - he had some of the most unique specimens, and could always get them to flower. One of my first phrases was the name of one of his most impressive cacti - Euphorbia Lactea Cristata. I'm sorry I didn't inherit even a smidgeon of his green thumb - I can't even keep crabgrass alive.

Unlike me and my athiest father - his son - PopPop was a deeply religious man, who faithfully attended church every Sunday until that church had to fold from declining population. PopPop led the choir, calling himself a Shouting Methodist, while my Grandmom played the organ. They both dragged me to church whenever I spent the weekend, half-fearing for my immortal soul. It didn't do any good, but it did impress upon me that, in the right hands, organized religion can be a useful, positive, productive thing - unlike what I see in the world today.

There were always animals in my grandparents' home. There was usually at least one dog, sometimes some fish, and an occasional hamster. My favorite pet, though, was Edgar Allen Crow, a crow (obviously) that lived in a big cage outside. Edgar was huge, and it was my job, when I was there, to feed him. This was usually a can of table scraps. I remember being terrified of this giant black bird, reaching my pudgy child hand into the door of his cage and depositing the can on the floor. Edgar must've been very well trained, as he never pecked me once. PopPop taught him a few words, and he'd caw on command. My father tells me that there were always animals around when he was growing up - turtles, snakes, rabbits, and - his favorite - pigeons.

PopPop was a collector, and a clutterer. His house was one tremendous culch pile. His workbench was always just a huge mass of tools, a plank or two, boxes of nails, and piles of sawdust. He somehow managed to use it just fine, though, making planters, window boxes, and various and sundry other small projects sold at church bazaars. He had enough clay pots stacked out behind the small greenhouse to supply Home Depot.

My grandfather passed away over a year ago, on December 9, 2006, nine years to the day after my grandmother. Today, I honor him, as I miss him.

Crumbling

Disclaimer: you thought I was done with this, didn't you? Well, this creative writing experiment is drawing to a close, as you'll see with this latest installment. Standard boilerplate applies: this is just creative writing, not my real life (THANK GOD!!).

I crave my bien aimé.

I need his hands to anchor mine, stretched high above my head, while our mouths meld. I need the lean line of his body flush against mine, pressing me into the mattress. I need his legs tangling with mine, touching every nerve and pulse point at their sensitive juncture. I need the tenderness of his kisses, the surety of his hands on my body, the feel of his arousal rampant against my belly.

I need to feel physically, because I am numb emotionally. I sit in my place on the sofa, hands running over the smooth leather cover of an old book. My husband sits in his chair, pointedly ignoring my presence, yet covertly curling his lip at me when he thinks I cannot see. His cold disdain would be more cutting than his hot anger was last night, were I invested in it. Where there were accusations, fury, and boiling emotions now there is icy disapproval. Intellectually, it is sad that he hurts, but in my heart, I am not sorry. No, I am not.

The book in my lap is from my school days. It is by an Italian writer, dating from the Middle Ages, full of stories from that time. One, in particular, begs to be read. It is of a lady, Madonna Filippa, who was caught being unfaithful to her husband and brought before the court for punishment. Once there, she calmly told the court her tale: she had a wealth of love to give, but her husband did not want it all. He turned her away when she sought to give it to him. She never denied him her love, but being so constantly turned away left her with a surplus. What was she to do with it? She very practically found a willing recipient and gave it away.

I am not sorry that he hurts, because for years, he turned me away. He denied me. He withheld his affection, and left me with a surplus of love to give. Our relationship became unbalanced, and the foundations, once solid, began to crumble under the unequal weight. Now it is rubble and dust at my feet, creating mountains of emotional debris to climb over.

Boccacio’s common-sense solution hasn’t worked well for me, as I am unable to remain as composed and insouciant as Madonna Filippa. Instead, I am numb.

Meme, part billionty

List your favorite bands from A to Z:

A. AC/DC
B. Bon Jovi
C. The Cranberries
D. Duran Duran
E. Evanescence
F. Ferry, Bryan
G. Green Day
H. Heart
I. INXS
J. Jamiroquai
K. King, Carol
L. lang, k.d.
M. Maroon 5
N. Nettles, Jennifer
O. O.M.D.
P. The Police
Q. Queen
R. Roxy Music
S. Sting
T. The Thompson Twins
U. U2
V. Van Halen
W. The Who
X. XTC
Y. Yellowcard
Z. ZZ Top

Thanks to my friend Hube for this one.

Whoopsie daisy!

Ok, so I have this class - it's a very nice class - and we are working on direct and indirect object pronouns. These students are all upperclassmen and the class is predominantly composed of boys. Many of these young men are, well, perverts. ;-)

I had them writing answers on the board for a few sentences, but that got cumbersome, so I told one of my young men that he didn't have to write the answer on the board. Instead he could just "give it to me orally."

Can I tell you how long it took to calm the class down after that? Fully 5 minutes. I was blushing, too, because whooooooo! That was unintended!!!!