The True Meaning of the Holidays

Two of my favorite days have just been here.

Yesterday was the drop-off for the adopt-a-family presents our students collect at school. The science teacher, who drives a Sportage, and I, who drives a Santa Fe, had both of our vehicles filled to the point where we had difficulty seeing out of our rear view mirrors. The grandmother, whose house we delivered to, as the family was in the process of moving to even lower income housing, was moved to tears and gave us huge hugs. She said we saved Christmas for her family. It was very rewarding, and I wish I could bottle up that feeling for everyone to experience.

Today I met the kids who will be attending the ski trip this year, and I also got to see a few kids from previous trips.

I'm not going to lie...it was a little depressing to see that two of the previous participants looked terrible, and will eventually, most likely, succumb to cancer. It hurt me to hear one child's insurance has been cut by the state.

But the spirit and light in these kids NEVER ceases to amaze me. When a ten year old says to me, "When we go on the trip, I'll be on maintenance then!" with her eyes old bright and her voice full of not with hope, but certainty that she will pull through (even though this is a relapse she is going through right now), you can't help but see her as courageous and even heroic.

These kids show me so many traits I admire, and hope that if I were in there position, I would have, but I am not always so sure I would. I feel the same about there parents, too. They are struggling through the holidays, trying to make them special for a sick child, and normal for the siblings, and smile at you through pain and fear. I am not sure if I were the parent if I could let my sick, and sometimes terminal, child leave me for 5 days to go on a ski trip. I am selfish and would want every last moment of that child's life to belong to me. I know how great this trip is for them, and that they have fun, and see they are not alone and bond with children going through the same thing. Still, I don't know if I would have the ability to do it.

So, while I cried for a bit today after seeing the kids, I felt better knowing that they are here on this earth, and show me how to live life, appreciate what I have, remain optimistic even when in the midst of a battle, and I am a better person when I am around them.

Here is another fantastic kids I saw on the news. Another child battling that damned invader we call cancer, and doing wonderful things while dealing with it.

Mikey Friedman

Anyway, guys, I hope that everyone out there has a wonderful Christmas, Hanukkah, or whatever celebration you observer. Best wishes for health, hope and happiness.

More stories of online dating...

I talked to a cute guy with a very sexy voice tonight. We talked for over an hour and we laughed and joked and found out we have quite a bit in common.

Then he started asking how old my online pics are. I fibbed, only because I still look the same. He seriously asked me to send a picture of my entire body. I don't have any, but even if I did, I would NOT send one to some guy! A bit later I mentioned that my hair is actually curly, but I straighten it most days. He asked for a picture of it curly.
I asked if he wanted me to send every picture of myself on my hard drive. He said not every picture, just 3 or 4.

I now have my doubts!
Still going to go out with him (after Christmas) because he was great until that point.

Most of the men contacting me currently have kids and are not wanting anymore. It seems to be a theme. Started with Professor, and continues now.

Here are snippets from various e-mails, profiles I have received as of late...

Now after a hard couple of years, with the end of my marriage and the depression I went through with the loss, I have come to realize that I only need my kids and myself to be happy.

Yes, because my minor is psychology is just itchin' to be put to use!

I forgot to say that my massage technique is above the rest!

Great! Because I want some man I never met before in my life to rub on me for a first date!

Wow, you sound wonderful and you're very nice looking. A little on the young side for me but I thought I would voice my opinion anyway.

Another issue--Professor, who is 8 and a half years older than me, is one of the younger men in recent history to e-mail me.

Hi….I am probably not the right guy for you but I figure I would take a shot at this anyway. I need to be upfront and honest with you from the beginning because of having a disability and being in a wheelchair. I must say I found your profile to be very attractive as well as you! I am also very much into sports though I can’t play them :( . Anyway before I ramble on about myself I need to find out if you are okay with the idea of me having a disability I have learned in the past that I need to be up front and honest with women about my situation if something is to work out.

I dated a guy in a wheelchair before, and he was great. I really liked him and saw a future, until his "Oh, woe is me" attitude popped into the picture. I expect some of that, but this became an issue when he said he could never have kids, because he couldn't play with them. I digress. This guy was positive and upbeat when we first met, can you imagine this? THEN I feel guilty about thinking like that. OY!

And food and eating are definitely a theme in these titles...

Let's go places and eat things!

Which is not nearly as frightening as,

I've love to eat out!

YIKES!

So, please forgive me if I become slightly jaded, and please understand why an FWB is a good thing for me at this time.

SPEAK

This is one of my favorite books, for very personal reasons. It is actually a book for teens, written by Laurie Halse Anderson. I want to say, though, it is so poignant, and well written and has such a scathing wit, that I defy any adult woman to read it and not laugh, feel touched, or relate to the high school cliques described.

We suspect the heroine of the story has been raped, and as the story unfolds, our suspicions are validated. She was at a party the summer before she enters 9th grade, has a few beers, and is attacked by a senior. She never actually said "no", but then, he covered her mouth, so how could she? She calls the police, the party is busted and several kids are arrested, but by this time she has gone home and told no one what really happened. But she is hated for busting the party and her first year of high school is utter hell. And she isn't even sure she was raped. She never told him to stop, after all!

And it felt personal to me. She was ostracized by friends she didn't tell, because they didn't know what had happened. I was also forgotten by my friends. She feels like if she can just tamp it down and not tell anyone, she will forget about it. For me it worked for a few years. Eventually, though, I wanted to have sex again, and in my situation, where there was a lot of vaginal tearing and I had to be sewn back up. The healing made me, well, basically a virgin again, so I had to be open and honest to the men I dated to make them aware of the situation. Also, I wasn't sure how I was going to respond to having sex again, so I had to prepare any suitor I wanted to be intimate with.

But I digress...
I want to tell you about my "friends". When we went to Cancun together, a local was all over me. They were deep in conversation about their jobs, and didn't see me flagging them down for a little help. It was like the foreshadowing in Stephen King novel.
So, a couple of years later, we were at a concert. I had to meet them there, and there was nowhere to park by time I arrived. I had to park in an isolated alley, but it was light out, and I was sure they would take me to my car. After the show, the plan was to go to a hip club to dance. (I actually was hip at one time!) They wanted to get to the club immediately after the show. I asked them to take me to my car, or even just have one of them ride with me. Nope, there were a dozen reasons why they couldn't walk a little further, or pretend to be salmon going upstream by driving against traffic to get me to my car. They will wait for me at the club.

You know what happened. I didn't even call them. I never told them. Instead, they just treated me like dirt for not showing up at the club. They thought I was being pouty and childish. I was also spending too much time with the guy I was dating at the time. The guy who took me to the hospital, sat with me at the police station while I worked on composite sketches and relived everything in interview after interview. The guy who held my hand when I was told I wasn't raped--it was sexual assault since the attacker used a dildo and not his penis! The guy who took care of me before and after my surgeries to piece me back together; just call me Franken-pussy. (HOW CRUDE, MISS BETHIE!) (Laughter got me through a lot.)

Anyway, before my post here, only about ten people, outside of doctors and law enforcement, knew about my attack.
It was somewhat freeing, though, to get it out there. At the time, there were reasons I kept it to myself. And even now, I have no intentions of telling my family. No need to, and now I feel pretty even-keel again.
Our heroine was also released when her rape in not only found out, but that her attacker is revealed to be sexual predator.

I feel a kinship with a fictional teenager. And I love her.

Do you know what FWB means?

Besides the obvious, Bethie finally gettin' a little sumthin'-sumthin' after a five year hiatus (yes, I AM such a slut!), it means that beyond the normal shaving and shampooing, there is little else to worry about. I wasn't self-conscious about my cellulite, or jiggly thighs, or small breasts. I was confident and focused on my pleasure first, his second. It was freeing and wonderful and undoubtedly, the best sex I have ever had. Not that I have had THAT many partners anyway.

For him, however, there was some worrying about if I was really okay with this, and making sure that there was more to it than just sex. He shaved his goatee for me (and looked HOT!) and worried about his performance. (Fantastic, thank you very much!)

I find it ironic that now that we are not a couple, but just good friends having great sex, I feel free and he is the one worrying about things being perfect.

After the first round, we cuddled and talked and laughed. We shared jokes, told each other tales from our pasts--mostly about traveling (Big jerk is going to a spa in Cancun for a week in January) and shared some deeper conversation.

He asked me again if it had really been five years since I had sex. I assured him it was, and asked why he asked. "Because, well, you're a tiger! You are very good at what you do and I really appreciate your creativity and the attention you pay to make sure my needs are met as well as your own. And I love that you are so free to focus on your orgasm and aren't just going through the motions to make sure I get my rocks off."

We also found that we are too much alike to be a couple. As Professor said, "We would have a lot of make-up sex, but we would end up killing each other." We are both sarcastic and like to argue. We are both passionate, which is good in the bedroom, but not so much outside of it. But, during this conversation, he did say, "I really do like you Miss Bethie."

Things are good, and I am happy with the status of our relationship.

Oh, and as a public service announcement, Don't let the Durex Play Tingle Lubricant get on scrotum. Unless you want to hear him whine.

Just when I am used to the idea...

that Professor and I are FWB, and am ready to let it be just that and have no emotional attachment to him, my furnace goes out.

What does that have to do with anything? Let me explain...

We had a snowstorm today. Unfortunately it was not until after I was at school and we didn't get to go home early.

My drive home was treacherous, but I knew I had a cozy house to get to, and possibly some fun-time with my niece.

I get home, and noticed that when I walked in the house, I wasn't much warmer than when I was outside.

My mom comes into the kitchen where I am wondering if I am coming down with something, feeling so chilled. She looks harried and spills out, "The furnace stopped running a few hours ago. Your dad was calling someone, but I don't know the status. The baby is sleeping, but I called your brother to have him pick her up, because it is so cold in here."

I knew Professor had the kids for the evening, but as a lark, I called him. "Soooo...you have the kids tonight, huh?"

"Well, yeah. Why? What's up?"

"Oh, well, my furnace is out, the house is freezing and I was hoping to find a warm place to bunk tonight."

His mind went reeling. We discussed the possibilities. When I mentioned that I do have to get up early for school, he suggested that he show me how to use the shower tonight, and I can use it myself in the morning. Nice.

"But, you have your kids."

"Yeah. I am really sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help you out."

"No worries. Hopefully it will be fixed tonight, and I can snuggle under my comforter with Fat Cat for some warmth."

"Lucky cat."

A little while later, I get a call.
"You know, I was just thinking, if you can stand being in your house until 9:00 or so, I should be home from dropping the kids off by then."
"That is okay, Big Guy, (my pet name for my 5'6" lover. He adores it when I call him that.) I will just rub that warming massage oil all over my body and see if that helps."
"Well, I'm not having a problem with feeling cold right now! I'll call you when I drop them off to see how you are doing."

I thank him, but tell him I will be fine. The weird thing here, though, is that it isn't just a case of wanting to shack up. He actually sounds, just a bit, concerned. I mean, he sounds more horny than concerned, but there is definitely a trace of concern there.

The furnace is fixed, and slowly the house is warming up, and just as I sit down to a bowl of fabulous chicken and wild rice soup, to speed up the warming process, my phone rings. I missed the call by time I got to the phone, but there is a voice message. Professor is in a frantic whisper, "I am hiding in the closet so the kids can't hear me, but I just wanted to tell you, it may be closer to 9:30, but if your furnace isn't working, you can come over here. I can't talk on the phone, but send a text message to let me know. I would love to see you, and you could use the warmth of my apartment."

I waited a little while (let him wonder if I went somewhere else to warm up) and sent a text that I would be fine (in truth, the house is nearing cozy, at this point)that I have a snow day tomorrow (honestly, I am fantasizing about lounging with him in the morning, and maybe even a nice wake-up call)and that tomorrow night we will have plenty of heat between us.

He sends me a text--"So, ur not cumming over?" (He is a PhD, but he is SO base with his sexual innuendos!)

I told him that while I am really looking forward to having him tomorrow night, tonight just isn't good for me.

He text me back, "OK".

I could almost hear the pout in his voice.
Really, I want to go over there, but between looking rough (and not shaving since Sunday) and simply not wanting him to think I am at his beckon call, I think it is best I stay in tonight. (Although I am wimpy and if the furnace was still down, I would be waiting for him when he got back from dropping the kids back home.)

Soooo...now I am thinking how sweet it was for him to want me to come over. Maybe he does still want to be my boyfriend.
But really, it was just about sex, wasn't it?

A VERY good cause...

I received this e-mail from a friend today, and thought that I should pass it on here.

favor to ask, it only takes a minute....

Please tell ten friends to tell ten today! The Breast Cancer site is having trouble getting enough people to click on their site daily to meet their quota of donating at least one free mammogram a day to an underprivileged woman. It takes less than a minute to go to their site and click on "donating a mammogram" for free (pink window in the middle).

This doesn't cost you a thing. Their corporate sponsors/advertisers use the number of daily visits to donate mammogram in exchange for advertising.

Here's the web site! Pass it along to people you know.

www.thebreastcancersite.com

The Breast Cancer Site

Where we stand...

Professor and I had a nice talk last night--after some very racy text messages.

We are going to get together Friday. We shall see what happens, but we did make some rules, a la Seinfeld for if we do become FWB. And let's face...we're gonna do it, so to speak.

I was awakened from a deep REM sleep last night when my phone received the filthiest text message I have ever seen (okay, I haven't seen that many filthy texts, but still...)and the exchange continued until professor had to excuse himself. My innocuous dreams were not coming back for the evening.

We are, in fact, friends. We have too much fun hanging out and talking and laughing at and with one another to let that go. Our conversations run the gamut from cerebral, to silly, to emotional, to poignant.

I am still free to date other people, although he is not going to be dating anyone for the time being. And he also knows that if invited on a prospective date that I may be interested in, that takes precedent over him (in theory, anyway).

If I meet a guy whom I decide to be intimate with, Professor and I will be strictly friends, and not Friends with Benefits.

Things for the most part, seemed comfortable and he seemed, for the first time in ages, relaxed. It was good.

So, go ahead and call me a slut. Judge me as you will and think what you want. I am happy with the situation. He is happy, and it is probably the healthiest relationship I have had for a long time. We respect one another, we are very attracted to one another, no doubt, but we are not in a place to take this to the next level.

I am searching for a relationship, but see no reason why I can't have some great sex in the meantime.

He can't handle a relationship right now, but, being a man, he needs sex.
It is a win-win situation.

Bite me if you disagree.

FWB

Professor called this morning while I was forgetting about him in a warm, frothy bubble bath. He wanted to let me know that he had my CDs, but one was in his briefcase in his office.
But he started the message asking how I felt about being friends with benefits.
I was floored. Not only that he would have the balls to ask me that, but that I thought it wasn't totally a bad idea.

I called him back, and when he answered, I told him he was the most brazen son-of-a-bitch that I know. He laughed and said he just was thinking about me and kept reliving the memories of us together. He then said, "I may be brazen, but I am not hearing a 'no' either."
And he was right--he wasn't hearing no.

He said he woke up this morning thinking about me. I told him I didn't believe that.
He acted hurt by that remark and asked pointedly of I thought he had ever lied to me. And in fact, he never has.
I said that I assumed it wasn't a vision of us walking hand-in-hand on the beach watching a beautiful sunset.
Admittedly, no, that was not the vision.
I asked if he had called the other girl when I didn't answer my phone, or if he called her first.
Nope. They are not talking at all. I always understood that he couldn't possibly be in a relationship, and was able to keep things as is, whereas the other gal was pushing for more from him.
I was thinking, it isn't that I didn't want more...I just didn't want to push him away.
So, they are not talking anymore, and there is no future there. He doesn't want to lead her on, she doesn't want to be with him with no commitment.

So, now I am wanting him physically more than ever.
I am 35 and have only had 5 lovers, so I think I am entitled to have a relationship that is only physical in nature.
And really, it would be more than physical, because our conversation today was about other things, and was still deeper than most guys I have dated recently.
Which makes me think we really would be friends with benefits.

Today, unfortunately, we can't hook up. I have things to do this afternoon, then he is taking his kids out this evening. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday won't work, either, but Thursday looks promising.

He sent me an X-rated text message when we got off the phone.

Damn, the boy turns me on--and I am normally such a good girl!

Missed connections and awkward conversations

Called the Professor on my way home--he had an emergency when a friend of his was lost in Illinois--driving drunk--he was trying to convince the guy to pull over and wait to be picked up. So, he couldn't talk.

He called me about an hour later, and I wasn't available, so he left a message.

So, I called him about quarter to 9:00, and he is at his son's football banquet. I was ready to tell him we'll talk later, but I guess he had to ease his conscience and asked if I hated him.
I told him no, and that actually, I was expecting this before now.
"Oh."
I did get to say my piece that it was low class to say it in an e-mail, especially one that came to me at work when I had a class. (Really, I didn't have a class at that time, but I just wanted him to think, "huh, guess that was thoughtless, or at the very least careless.")

"Well, I started out by saying we need to talk, so you knew it wasn't the last word on it. I just wanted to tell you what was on my mind, and it became this long e-mail. I didn't mean for it to."

He reiterated that it was him and not me. I wanted to say that that is such a cliche I could scream. But then again, I know it IS him and not me. The boy has issues, no matter how attracted I am to him.

He then said that he needed to get back to the banquet, but would call me tomorrow. I am not available tomorrow, unless he calls between 3:00-5:00. He said he'd try. He totally isn't ready to talk to me, and maybe not see me to give me the CDs. And if he does call me at that time, I will be out with the teachers before we go on a field trip until 11:00 that night. Most likely we will go out after the trip and have a few well-needed drinks. Most likely we won't talk tomorrow, either.

When we DO finally hook up to get the CDs returned to their rightful owner, you better believe I am wearing the hip jeans that look good on me and my kickin' red calf-hair, 3 1/2 inch mules. Being that we are in 30 degree weather, I doubt my top will be so sexy, and I am sure I will be wearing a coat. DAMN!