You Won’t Be Disappointed

Why is it that when men say “you won’t be disappointed” you always are?

As found on Craigslist.

looking for a busty bbw 35 or older – 42
I travel all over the city and all day long i see big busty beautiful woman and it drives me crazy, I want to meet one. If you are a busty bbw and youd like to meet a muscular white guy in his 40’s that wants to meet you, say hello. Ive got a great sense of humour and a lot of passion for a very full figured lady.
Your pic gets mine… you wont be disappointed. You will be loved and appreciated.

On impulse I wrote. Cause I am over 35 and I do have a BBW figure. I didn’t suggest meeting cause I’m not living very near Toronto any more. He wrote back this morning and asked for a picture, saying he often comes out to Barrie. I sent a photo along with more about myself. I get a reply back (very short) that I am not his type.

Well, I’m disappointed. If I’m over 35, BBW and busty… how am I not his type?

Men are either just that stupid or just that foolish.

Text is Crawling Out of my Keyboard

It’s been quite awhile since I really wrote anything. Laziness? Possibly. I do think of things to write. Then something else distracts me. For instance, I am still working on a post for Thursday Thirteen. Kind of sad that is it now Saturday in some places in the world, 11:48 PM here. I’m trying to work on an article about rural exploration, which I actually wrote last year, wrote again a few months ago and have spinning around in my head again this week. I’d be so proud to see not only my article but my photos appear in one of our nationally well known Canadian publications, Canadian Living or Chatelaine. It’s a lofty goal perhaps.

I went out on a couple of dates and didn’t mention a thing about him. The first date was nice and I had hope for good things to come. I was wrong. He is ok but did not really show an interest in getting to know me. I asked about himself and he really only talked about a few special interests and did not answer about little things (not so little to me) that I wanted to know. Then we had a second date where he had to end it early for work, which was fine as he works on call. But then there was nothing except an email invite for kinky play.

I really want a relationship where I don’t feel I’m alone, again. What is the point if you don’t have someone you can talk to and know he is listening and actually cares about what you say? Maybe I will just never find anyone at this late stage in the dating game. All of the men I have tried to meet seem to end up in the same boat. None of them want to get to know me. I really want a guy I can spend time with, out of a bedroom. Don’t men want that too? Sure I like sex and in past relationships (all two of them) I have lead in that area. But, I want more! I want romance! I want to be courted and have flowers brought when I get picked up. Yes, Eric did that once and that was lovely. But… it ended with me alone, abandoned without explanation. I had to tell him I was giving up on him and then he said something about why he had given up on me.

Anyway, relationships and dating posts are boring. Really. Aren’t they all about the same? Do you really expect to find some great long lasting insight among all this space sucking babble? Good luck! I don’t have anything figured out. When my life is perfect I’ll get back to you with all those omniscient answers.

Tomorrow we are off early (early for me) to Elmvale. The town is a giant street/ garage sale. We are on the hunt for a summer bike for Zack, the 12 year old giant nephew. The boy is taller than I am now. Not right to call him a boy but he still has that boyishness and since he won’t ever be in my age generation without the use of a time machine… he is stuck being the boy for awhile more at least.

Of course, I’d like to find another abandoned farm house during the trip.

Sadly, I am pretty much unemployed and having to watch my dollars. I found a $20 I had forgotten in my wallet yesterday so that was kind of sweet.

I do not want to get another job. I am sick of working. I just want to sit here and blog, write, watch brain killing TV (soap opera afternoons) and take road trips. Well, a few other things too but that’s about it. I’m sick of customer service type junk. I’m so tired of obeying rules. How did old fashioned women stand taking the marriage vows knowing they were owned and had no rights. Even their children did not belong to them. I think it is strange that women went from primitive (though I think primitive is in doubt if they were bright enough to have a Matriarch) matriarchal societies to being servants in their own homes. How did we allow men to have the upper hand like that?

Doesn’t it seem that women really do have a lot of power, in life. In the space of approximately nice months we cart around a new life. In that time we can decide to keep that life or let it go. Drastic yes. But, in some cases a woman should think of her own self preservation and that of the child to be born into the same world she lives in.

Although, I really don’t think things between men and women should be about power. Or who is greater, etc. We need each other. In cases where men and women understand that I think the relationship can really flourish. So, here we are back to that dating thing again. Ick!

I should be shutting the computer down. It’s been making more noise than it should be. I keep wondering what it is that is running against my wishes or directions. Windows has really evolved into a little monster. You never really know what the MS creature inside your computer is doing. Likely eating sections of my hard drive on a whim.

It is getting hotter tonight. I thought it was decent all day. Warm and muggy outside but I hid in here under the fan all day and it just seemed breezy to me. Now it is after midnight and it seems the heat has leaked into my sanctuary. I’m anti summer when it comes to heat and humidity. I’d rather have a snowstorm, a blizzard would be just peachy too. The only redeeming feature of summer is the greenery and edibles, peaches come to mind right away. I was thinking of peach pie yesterday. Nothing like peach pie made at home.

Well, this should be enough babble for anyone to read. Likely you are all drooling over your keyboards or shaking your head in an effort to keep your eyes from closing. Wake up and get a fresh coffee or get to bed. Nightie night blogging people.

Let the Man Do the Work

I have encountered a new guy. Can’t say we have met as we have not met yet. We will be having breakfast/ brunch on Thursday. He is widowed with a 19 year old daughter. He does insurance for refurbished boats. Sounds like someone I could like.

What I have not told my Mother is just how we encountered each other and what other thing I know about him that I probably won’t tell her. I will whisper it to you… shh, keep it to yourself. We met on an adult personals site and he likes to be a sissy, frills and all. You may be thinking this is something I can not do, could not be interested in… and yet… I am. Not sure about it 100%. But, I always did say I would marry a guy who could have a maid to do the housework. So, isn’t this my way of keeping my promise to myself, in my own weird way.

People don’t talk about fetishes and what they like along with sex. I’m not a porn star, nympho type. But, I do know that I am not entirely straight forward. Yet, I don’t feel entirely comfortable to write about it. I know my Mom and sisters think cock sucking is dirty, not something they would do. I’m a bit on the fence there. My ex wasn’t very clean and that does stick in your mind. But, I do like being in control. I do like being the one sitting with a wicked grin while he sweats and moans.

On the other hand… a man who will perform pedicures, bake cookies and clean the washroom as sexual foreplay isn’t all bad. Of course, not all of those at the same time or order.

I used to write adult content for the adult part of I used to write adult stories for a man I liked online. It wasn’t icky. How could it be as long as I was in charge. I could almost be a born again virgin if I didn’t want to get rid of the title quite so much. Yes, I like sex. When it’s done well. To my specifications. Having a little man to boss around could be a good thing.

But, like I wrote, we have yet to actually meet. There’s a long way to go from bacon and eggs to letting him fluff my pillows or wash my windows. Still, as nice and pleasant and polite as I am… there is a part of me that just likes being evil, wicked and shocking. How suitable to have someone who wants that rather than someone who will think I’m peculiar and undesirable.

Grrl in Charge

I don’t think it’s terrible or very adult to be interested in being the woman in charge of the man when it comes to the fun side of a relationship. To say it politely versus talking about more shocking things like BDSM and Dommes and men who want to be submissive.

It’s not all about sex. There are things and situations assumed as soon as someone talks about BDSM and Dominance and submission. But, for me it’s about being in charge and doing things my own way. If you don’t want him drooling over you then you get to make the change. Instead he can wash the dishes and then kneel at your feet until just having him kneeling there starts to be more interesting than annoying.

I don’t see everything connected to the D/s fetish being adult and taboo. It’s fun. Aren’t there things you’d like to do which ‘nice girls’ just don’t do? Wouldn’t you like to have a man be the one who feels helpless and unsatisfied for a change. You don’t need leather clothes, extraordinary high heels or whips and chains. You can skip the accessories completely and just work with your voice telling him what to do. Force isn’t necessary. Both of you want to do this, to have this experience and that is part of the charge and thrill of it.

Keep it all in the bedroom, private and just between the two of you. Take it out a bit, for a little more fun. Torment him just a little more. But, keep it fun for both of you. He needs to know you are in charge and that means you say when you’ve had enough, just are plain not interested or want him in another room- preferably making himself useful doing some of the household everyday work.

So are you shocked? My little secret is out. I like being the woman in charge of the man, at least in the bedroom.

The Bohemian Spy Chick Thing

Why don’t those clothes shops for plus sized/ full figured women have ads with a woman standing at the site of something impressive she is doing with the slogan “I wear … (insert store/ brand name here)!

Today while getting dressed, putting on my new shirt from Penningtons along with the red panties I bought too. I was thinking that they should run an ad in women’s magazines with a woman standing at the site of an abandoned house (I’m going to a good one today) with her camera and show that fat women are doing interesting things and having adventures too. We are more than our lard/ pounds/ etc. Don’t you think that would sell more plus sized clothes than the apologetic type of ads they run now? Sure it’s nice to see those fat acceptance things but do we really believe any of that? Try dating and you’ll soon be taking off those rose coloured glasses. But, that doesn’t mean larger women are just sitting at home eating more cupcakes to console themselves. No way. We are getting out there in the world. You can’t just get rid of us. We don’t make a nice, tidy pile for one thing.

Then I was thinking about how women in general get kind of shafted into the whole pretty/ beauty thing. A man gets a different kind of compliment. A woman gets complimented on her looks more often than anything else.

I know a lot of stuff is based on looks and women are especially born into the life of having to be pretty. But, we don’t have to bore ourselves with the same old compliments. They become kind of meaningless.

Instead, when a friend has a new hair cut, don’t tell her it makes her look younger or sexy. Tell her it makes her look mysterious, maybe even a little dangerous! Wouldn’t you like to hear that yourself. Doesn’t it sound a lot better than saying it’s pretty. Besides, don’t we all secretly want to be seen as a mysterious, dangerous secret agent spy chick? Or live the life of the free spirit, bohemian like Desperately Seeking Susan?

So share that. Tell friends they look mysterious… even a little… dangerous. Leave pretty for the boys, see how they like to be called something empty and generic like pretty. Pretty what?