So, in my morning Metro newslet, there was an article on the new tv show, Hottest Mom in America, in which the writer said that it's basically fuktup (and I agree, but I don't think this is any more fugtup than any other reality show), and that moms shouldn't be worried about hotness. The rules said that the age of the contestants could be anywhere from 18 to 60, Gilderman commented that 60-year-old moms had real problems.
When I went to the Hot Moms web site, I couldn't help noticing that fake boobs were prevalent among the contestants.
Here is my response:
----- Forwarded Message ----
From: me
To: thedatinglife@metro.us
Sent: Thursday, October 12, 2006 8:53:19 AM
Subject: Hot Moms?
Dear Mr. Gilderman:
Thank you for pointing out the insignificance of so-called "hotness" in a mother's life. Hopefully, your article will reach the desks of Ms. Jolie's, Ms. Witherspoon's, and Ms. Paltrow's respective publicists. I am sure, once they are informed, they will start eating Twinkies(R) and bow out gracefully. And you are completely right about sexy mothers at 60! I shall send letters to Catherine Deneuve, Jane Fonda and Susan Sarandon myself.
"Suki"
http://love-suki.blogspot.com
http://23rd-mandalation.net
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
the '70's returns.
I always heard the '70's would return. Not the cool, hippie '70's, but the nasty, long-haired balding aqua-velva gold chain "what's your sign,baby" '70's. And there it is. Living proof. Not only did this dude have all the aforementioned things in that list, but he also had streaks in his hair. Streaks! Oh, man.
I always knew things would get bad if I got a camera phone.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Easy-Lay Crab Stuffed Shells.
Once again, I can't believe I haven't written in so long.
For an "Artist Date" (that is something that you spend time doing, just cuz you feel like it, just for fun) I made crab-stuffed shells for my boyfriend and his dad. They loved them so much, they were smacking their lips, and eating even after they were full. This is how you do it: when you go to the grocery store, grab the box of giant shells first--make sure it has the recipe for shells stuffed with cheese on the back.
Get all of the ingredients, but only buy 1/2 of the needed ricotta cheese (one container of it, instead of 2).
Then buy: 2 cans of white crab, plus a small onion, or 3 cans of white crab.
When you are ready to cook:
1. drain the cans of crabmeat, and, if you are using it--dice half the onion (that means chop it into as small pieces as you can without cutting your fingers off)
2. sautee the crab and if any, onion in butter for 3 minutes. set aside.
3. start following the directions on the back of the box. when you make the filling, add the sauteed crab (& onion?)
4. finish the recipe just the way it says on the box--timing/temp, everything.
Deeelish! If you want to make it a little extra seafoody, you can get a can of tiny shrimp to add to the sauce before baking, too.
yes, this was a bit of an aphrodisiac.
:)
For an "Artist Date" (that is something that you spend time doing, just cuz you feel like it, just for fun) I made crab-stuffed shells for my boyfriend and his dad. They loved them so much, they were smacking their lips, and eating even after they were full. This is how you do it: when you go to the grocery store, grab the box of giant shells first--make sure it has the recipe for shells stuffed with cheese on the back.
Get all of the ingredients, but only buy 1/2 of the needed ricotta cheese (one container of it, instead of 2).
Then buy: 2 cans of white crab, plus a small onion, or 3 cans of white crab.
When you are ready to cook:
1. drain the cans of crabmeat, and, if you are using it--dice half the onion (that means chop it into as small pieces as you can without cutting your fingers off)
2. sautee the crab and if any, onion in butter for 3 minutes. set aside.
3. start following the directions on the back of the box. when you make the filling, add the sauteed crab (& onion?)
4. finish the recipe just the way it says on the box--timing/temp, everything.
Deeelish! If you want to make it a little extra seafoody, you can get a can of tiny shrimp to add to the sauce before baking, too.
yes, this was a bit of an aphrodisiac.
:)
Monday, August 7, 2006
Good Girl Sex vs. What I Like
Some people have asked me what good girl sex is.
Simply put, it's the sex your parents would want you to have:
no clothes, including "uniforms" (see below)
no handcuffs or rope
no vibrators or other machinery
no spanking or other implements of pain
no fantasy games
no pornography
in a bed
between 2 people who know and love each other
and lasts a half hour, including making out, etc.
I think I was bored of good girl sex around age 16. My boyfriend did me naked in the missionary position every day for a month. All I thought to myself, is this it? Is this what everyone's excited about?
For me, sex is also an art--and by that I also mean not just high quality in technique, but also a means of expression. So, I not only enjoy clothes, hand cuffs, games, public sex (yes, and at times with people I don't know) and porno (though I have, sworn off porno for months at a time) I also need some of these accessories to feel like I'm really express myself fully in this art form. Which isn't exactly "bad girl" sex-- a lot of religious people wouldn't like it, and certainly not what my parents would want for me.
But it's what makes me feel fulfilled as a person, so I try not to let other people's opinions bother me.
Simply put, it's the sex your parents would want you to have:
no clothes, including "uniforms" (see below)
no handcuffs or rope
no vibrators or other machinery
no spanking or other implements of pain
no fantasy games
no pornography
in a bed
between 2 people who know and love each other
and lasts a half hour, including making out, etc.
I think I was bored of good girl sex around age 16. My boyfriend did me naked in the missionary position every day for a month. All I thought to myself, is this it? Is this what everyone's excited about?
For me, sex is also an art--and by that I also mean not just high quality in technique, but also a means of expression. So, I not only enjoy clothes, hand cuffs, games, public sex (yes, and at times with people I don't know) and porno (though I have, sworn off porno for months at a time) I also need some of these accessories to feel like I'm really express myself fully in this art form. Which isn't exactly "bad girl" sex-- a lot of religious people wouldn't like it, and certainly not what my parents would want for me.
But it's what makes me feel fulfilled as a person, so I try not to let other people's opinions bother me.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Night and Day. Saturday and Sunday.
Saturday turned out to be such a glamorous day...after
taking my boyfriend to Penn Station, and kissing one of the most
romantic goodbye kisses ever in a train station--that should've been
followed by me running after the departing train and waving, but
because of terrorism, non-ticket holders are not allowed on the
platform anymore, I got my own train ticket to Long Beach, Long Island.
The line for a ticket was long--about 20 minutes, and the people in
front of me--all, also heading points east, were gaggles of golfers and
bunches of the brawny beach set. I had never seen so many tan people
together at once. It made me feel...pale and alien. or perhaps like a
pale alien.
Although the line was long, the beach was long, and so was the island,
the train ride was relatively short: 45 minutes, and I was hugging my
friend, Jessica. We had been friends for 17 years now. After marching
up and down the main drag looking for an open Thai, then open Italian
restaurant, we landed at the "Global Cafe" or some such. Deeelish!
Jessica had an 8,000 calorie steak salad, and I had Japanese Pankar and
barbecue fries (fish n' chips).Afterward, for a surprise, she took me
for a mani-pedi and 10 minute backrub, and I said, "Jessica, you took
me out for my birthday and made me a year younger." Actually, it was
more like five years younger. (Toes "garnet" and fingers "Fed Up" which
matches my skin).
We went to the beach, and actually got into the water--the waves were
rough and I did some body surfing, but not before some Baywatch action.
The lifeguard supervisor's truck came, and the life guard frantically
blew his whistle. Everyone out of the water! Some people thought it
might be a shark. The lifeguard said they already had an emergency, but
no one was rescued. I thought it might be a crowd control exercise.
Guinea pig again!
After a few glasses of wine on the penthouse rooftop, complete with
gargoyles, I headed back to Manhattan in a run. I had to make my
friend's play reading of "Kryptonite Hearts." It was a costumed reading
about people who get a kinky high about pretending to be superheroes
(and the villains who like to be beaten by them.) It's too bad one of
my friends couldn't make it, but it was a packed house, anyway. After
that, dinner with the stars of the play, and back at my house by 12:30.
Strange ferry action on the way home: a group of 30 or so were singing
victory songs in Spanish or maybe Portuguese. Some NY'ers got
really angry, and started chanting NOO YAHK! NOO YAHK! at them, like a
bunch of assholes.
Sunday, restless, and feeling the need to drink and have a laugh, I went to surprise my friend, Steve Bunche
at his job in Brooklyn. Surprise to me, though, was that his hours
changed, so I went for a walk. I think I became dehydrated with
low-glucose, because it became a very long walk:
Once I found some decent Spanish food at a restaurant my 2nd
husband and I were regulars at, I decided that cool air was better than
hot, that being in the dark movie theater was just the escape I needed
from the missing my boyfriend, and now my ex-... So I got on the train,
and went to the 20-plex nearest the ferry terminal:
By the time I got there--3 pm, nothing was playing but Clerks
II--and gee I didn't know if I'd get it without having seen
Clerks I-- and so I hung out at the World Financial Center air
conditioning, with the well-paid tourist set and read a book on massage
so I can heal my boyfriends arms (and my shoulders) and ended up having
to run to the ferry to meet my kid.
That's it. And I still have my cold. And poison ivy.
taking my boyfriend to Penn Station, and kissing one of the most
romantic goodbye kisses ever in a train station--that should've been
followed by me running after the departing train and waving, but
because of terrorism, non-ticket holders are not allowed on the
platform anymore, I got my own train ticket to Long Beach, Long Island.
The line for a ticket was long--about 20 minutes, and the people in
front of me--all, also heading points east, were gaggles of golfers and
bunches of the brawny beach set. I had never seen so many tan people
together at once. It made me feel...pale and alien. or perhaps like a
pale alien.
Although the line was long, the beach was long, and so was the island,
the train ride was relatively short: 45 minutes, and I was hugging my
friend, Jessica. We had been friends for 17 years now. After marching
up and down the main drag looking for an open Thai, then open Italian
restaurant, we landed at the "Global Cafe" or some such. Deeelish!
Jessica had an 8,000 calorie steak salad, and I had Japanese Pankar and
barbecue fries (fish n' chips).Afterward, for a surprise, she took me
for a mani-pedi and 10 minute backrub, and I said, "Jessica, you took
me out for my birthday and made me a year younger." Actually, it was
more like five years younger. (Toes "garnet" and fingers "Fed Up" which
matches my skin).
We went to the beach, and actually got into the water--the waves were
rough and I did some body surfing, but not before some Baywatch action.
The lifeguard supervisor's truck came, and the life guard frantically
blew his whistle. Everyone out of the water! Some people thought it
might be a shark. The lifeguard said they already had an emergency, but
no one was rescued. I thought it might be a crowd control exercise.
Guinea pig again!
After a few glasses of wine on the penthouse rooftop, complete with
gargoyles, I headed back to Manhattan in a run. I had to make my
friend's play reading of "Kryptonite Hearts." It was a costumed reading
about people who get a kinky high about pretending to be superheroes
(and the villains who like to be beaten by them.) It's too bad one of
my friends couldn't make it, but it was a packed house, anyway. After
that, dinner with the stars of the play, and back at my house by 12:30.
Strange ferry action on the way home: a group of 30 or so were singing
victory songs in Spanish or maybe Portuguese. Some NY'ers got
really angry, and started chanting NOO YAHK! NOO YAHK! at them, like a
bunch of assholes.
Sunday, restless, and feeling the need to drink and have a laugh, I went to surprise my friend, Steve Bunche
at his job in Brooklyn. Surprise to me, though, was that his hours
changed, so I went for a walk. I think I became dehydrated with
low-glucose, because it became a very long walk:
Once I found some decent Spanish food at a restaurant my 2nd
husband and I were regulars at, I decided that cool air was better than
hot, that being in the dark movie theater was just the escape I needed
from the missing my boyfriend, and now my ex-... So I got on the train,
and went to the 20-plex nearest the ferry terminal:
By the time I got there--3 pm, nothing was playing but ClerksII--and gee I didn't know if I'd get it without having seen
Clerks I-- and so I hung out at the World Financial Center air
conditioning, with the well-paid tourist set and read a book on massage
so I can heal my boyfriends arms (and my shoulders) and ended up having
to run to the ferry to meet my kid.
That's it. And I still have my cold. And poison ivy.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Orgy Fun
I haven't been involved in anything like an orgy since I was a teen. Here's a group that sponsors orgies as "higher consciousness" events where you can learn about your barriers, overcome your fear of rejection (of all the people who will turn you down in your most sensitive state) etc., etc.
It might be good if you are single. If you go as a couple, be warned: someone will get more or better than the other, and all hell will break loose. Love/jealousy are ancient and intense energies. I would not fool with them.
It might be good if you are single. If you go as a couple, be warned: someone will get more or better than the other, and all hell will break loose. Love/jealousy are ancient and intense energies. I would not fool with them.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Why Not Blogging
I'm so tired, for the past month, all I've had is normal, "good girl" sex.
I'm so tired, I feel no joy in personality.
In fact, I feel scrubbed clean of it.
I really do not think sleep would help.
Nor coffee.
Nor cocaine.
Perhaps that is because I am so tired, I can barely see the coffee in front of me.
And on top of that, I am tired of tiredness. It's a twilight reality, a starvation of the soul.
I'm so tired, I feel no joy in personality.
In fact, I feel scrubbed clean of it.
I really do not think sleep would help.
Nor coffee.
Nor cocaine.
Perhaps that is because I am so tired, I can barely see the coffee in front of me.
And on top of that, I am tired of tiredness. It's a twilight reality, a starvation of the soul.
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