TV MA

*Sex is extremely important to me. It’s in the top 5 things that I need to be happy.

When I was little I use to sneak around in the middle of the night, pretending like I couldn’t fall asleep. “Oh the insomnia,” I would whine. Little did my mom know, I was turning to Cinemax and HBO for some soft-core porno action. I utilized the previous channel button on the remote to keep my sexy secret safe. MTV, QVC, or some other three-letter network acted as my quick getaway. If I heard my mom’s door open. BAM. From moans to My So-Called Life. 

I think this all started when I was about 12 or so. I remember the feeling I would get while watching these dirty movies. A tingling sensation would take over. Sometimes I would touch myself, but that felt awkward and boring. Most of the time I would just watch. Enthralled with the feeling between my legs, I was obsessed. Every night I would sneak away, turn the TV down extra low, and hunker down for a night of learning and yearning. Those HBO bells would chime…the static would play…the choir would sing…and I would be whisked away on a journey of a good girl gone bad.

I felt guilty for my porno secret. I remember sitting in my 6th grade math class thinking, “If only they all knew what I did last night…they would be so ashamed.” Up until age 23-ish I was always conflicted with my sexuality and my conscience. Welcome to being a girl. Yayyyyy.

Like all normal people, there came a time when we stopped paying exorbitant amounts for HBO and Skinamax, but my love for porn never stopped. My high school boyfriend got me a porno DVD as a gift once. It was vile and was not the classy HBO/Cinemax stuff I had grown accustomed to. That was really the last time I watched it.

Until last week. Continue reading

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Kick It

I’ve been trying to shove it out of my head, or *kick it, as I call it. This feeling of lostness and depression keeps rearing it’s ugly head.

Due to life, my plans have changed. I am thankful. I am grateful. And then I just find myself feeling overwhelmed and I don’t know where to begin.

The house is a mess, I don’t want to clean it.

My resume needs a revamp, I don’t want to do it.

There are movies to be made, I don’t want to make them.

There are things to do. Lots of them.

I don’t want to do any of them.

This is my depression. Going on about three weeks now I have felt awful, and then better. Then awful again.

The only thing that keeps me sane nowadays is my relationship with Mr. M. His existence gives me hope.

For me, I know this is circumstantial depression. My mom, my friend’s dad, my uncle, Janet. Lots of sadness has been had in the past 6 months. I hate wallowing, and I can’t stand whiners. But life is really sad sometimes and it’s hard for me to accept that. I just want the lost feeling to go away.

I need a sign.

Yours trying to kick it,

25swf

*Kick it: the act of “kicking it” is a visualization I’ve done since I was a teenager. When my mind starts writhing and swirling down the rabbit hole of insecurity, worry, negativity, etc. I visually kick that thought out of my head. It flies high and far away from me. Thus, my opinion is that strong legs are helpful in life.

 

It’s so good it hurts

When my friend replaces I with we when she talks about anything

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This Tumblr.  The end.  You’re welcome.

With the Pinterest world and real world coming at me from various directions, the thought of marriage is pretty much a constant in my life. When I found this Tumblr, it was like a weight (I didn’t even realize I was bearing) had been lifted off my shoulders. Funny how humor can do that for you.

Yours laughing all day,

25swf

Daughter Dear

I once listened to a story on This American Life about a mother who was dying of cancer and wrote her daughter a letter for every birthday. WARNING: If you listen to it make sure you are not on a run like I was…sobbing and snotting yourself as you try and trot is not easy. She wrote the letters so even after she passed she could stay in her daugther’s life and offer her wisdom and encouragement. However, it actually turned out to be a crutch and a very painful thing in the daughter’s life, but the mother had the best of intentions. Don’t they all.

It got me to thinking, though. What if I wrote a letter to my daughter. As a 25 year old, what would I say? What would I want her to know? Would I actually give it to her one of these days?

I actually don’t plan on having kids until I’m 32-ish. I want to see how this letter holds up. Would I change anything? Would I still want her to read it one day? So here I go, a letter to my theoretical girl who will (one day, all too soon) turn into a woman.

Maybe I will give it to her. Perhaps I won’t. Stick with me, and you shall find out 😉 Like 7 years from now… OK, here we go.  Continue reading

One Year, One Ring

This weekend was my 1-year anniversary with Mr. M. I have been looking forward to giving him his small present for the past couple weeks.

I got crafty from a pin I fell in love with. Mr. M and I are big Instagram-ers, so I took one photo from each of the months we have been together and made a special magnet set. I thought I was being so clever.

pinterestI knew he would love it, and he did, but I was completely unprepared for what he was going to give me.  Continue reading