Happy HNT! Looking forward to reviewing those post tomorrow, but at the moment I have to get ready for work. Tomorrow starts a 4 day weekend for me so maybe I'll get around to posting something interesting before I leave.

But for today I leave you with this thought.......


Ever participate in a blow job that ended like kids drinking milk and laughing to hard?

welcome home

I arrived home today within minutes of Zig leaving. The house seemed in its usual state of organized chaos.

I make my way upstairs. Dog tired from 12 night time hours of careing for the ill.

Nothing unusual except Zigs cologne lingering in the bathroom.

I miss him even more now. Heaviness smoothers what little reserve strength remains.

I purposefully linger to enjoy mists of mermories. Eyes closed. Half nekkid. The earthy musky forest scent tingling my nose, goose flesh breaking in waves across my body. My heart slows, breath becomes a quiet thrill. Then in the farthest reaches of my essence I feel the whisper "welcome home".

I am renewed.

guilty pleasures:)

I adore sex in the afternooon.

Wait. Let me rephrase. I adore sex almost 99% of anytime. There are the rare times I am just not into it, (like near dead sick) or uncooperative (like soundly sleeping or inebriated). Mostly I'm pretty much ready as long as my partner makes some effort to warm me up.

This afternoon I was "pre-warmed" before Zig crawled in bed with me. The sex was delicious, of course. I'm a lucky gal to have someone that understands the womanly bodily as well as him. He basically had to kick my arse out of the bedroom as I had a small roadtrip to make to exhange the Princess with her dad.

I grabbed some clothes, used the potty and couldnt help but chuckle thinking of suze's post . I washed my face, dressed then prepared the Princess for her trip.

I walked to the car in my sleeveless shirt, bra, jean shorts and sandals smiling with recent afterglow. I also was amused with the idea of meeting my ex sans panties. Not that I desire some rekindling but more of a ha! you cant have this anymore feeling. no panties. Guilty pleasure #1.

The drive there was uneventfull. I enjoyed one of my favorite new rock stations, the Princess fell asleep. I was still in post coitus glow. I shifted on my seat and another smile spread across my face, I may have even giggled a bit. As I rearranged my self the sweet muskiness reminder of our afternoon delight teased my nostrils. I know many women I have talked to try to mask their natural sweetness and just abhore the post sex potpourri, but personally I enjoy the scintitlating reminder of bliss. post coitus aroma. Guilty pleasure #2.

The Princess exchange was accomplished smoothly. I called home to let know Zig know I was not buried in a ditch somewhere and heading home. By now I'm over afterglow and equally remincising and anticipating my time with my handsome man. I ease onto the expressway from the on ramp and shift again. OH guilty pleasure #1, #2 and #3! I keep both hands on the steering wheel and eyes open with considerable effort. What is #3 ? *grin*

I dont know about jeans for men, but mine have this seam right up front. If I move just right I can maneuver the seam across my clit. Caution! doing this repeatedly can result in poorly veiled orgasmic noises. Can you imagine my surprise in high school history class when this hands off self stimulation was discoved?

Life is short, enjoy your guilty pleasures. *wink*

can I trade being a woman for a day?

Normally I adore being a woman. I love that I have curves, and the attention my curves earn. But today I would really rather not. I want to trade. Particularily my bewbies.

They hurt. I looked it up..... breast pain is not a typical sign of cancer.... especially bilateral discomfort. I did like the word "mastodynia". Sounds like they should be roaring, teeth bared off my chest huh?

The probablity is fibrocystic breast changes , PMS, pregnancy, breastfeeding or perimenopause. I'm a bit young yet for the menopause thing.... I'm definetly not pregnant or breastfeeding. PMS? I'm sure if you asked in my house they'd tell you I have PMS everyday! fibro whaaattt? OH damn.

60% of women between 30 and 50 have the tenderness, lumps, bumps and fullness associated with fibrocystic changes. Women with these changes should be extra vigilant about monthly self breast exams (sbe) about 5 days after their period (when breast are least tender). The density changes in a fibrocystic breast can make detecting a cancerous legion slightly more difficult. Great, just when I got comfy with the idea that breast pain is NOT a sign of cancer they toss this at me.

But on the bonus side:

husband: "what are you doing honey"
wife "self breast exam, its important to know my 'normal'"
husband "need help with that?" or "can I watch?"


Hey I'm all for taking a mundane task and sexing it up! And just think, it needs to be done EVERY MONTH! I say lets make a game of it... Spot the Dot SBE or FBE (friend breast exam) massage! Did you know they acutally market a device to help "glide" ones fingers over ones breast. People really need help touching them selves?!?!?! but I digress.....

The standard advice was a bit disconcerting. NSAIDS like ibrufrofen or acetomen per package instructions. (ok check) A supportive bra, (what? this pretty lil lacy number has to retire?) Take your vitamins, (ok I can do that), stop caffiene, ( you have to be kidding, I work nights, caffiene is a food group!) and decrease fat intake. What? my ample derriere has taken years to get this size! Ditto for "the girls". They are beautifully full. OK beutifully full and painfull. Yet more reason I need to stop eating like a typical process food junky.

So basically I have to make lifestyle changes to decrease the breast changes. Fast food or breastsssss that can be touched, caressed, fondled...... HMMMM guess who just went on a diet!

I have survived "estrogen fest"

For those of you that regualarly read Zigs rants your well aware we had a new arrival in the family. Since we had just under 9 months to prepare for the blessed event a visit was planned around the due date. A visit was mandotory by order of MOM! Last summer my redheaded sis had a gorgeous red headed lad which promted the matriach of our family to drive sis and lad to florida to meet the aunts. I could not attended and for the past year have been grieved with comments of..... "I could have had all my girls and grandkids together." This years arrival prompted a decree form the matriach that all subjects will attend the new princess's court. Apparently trivial things like maintaining the good graces of a new employer are not important in Gramma World.

Having earned some vacation time, at least a week was expected to be used on our "Estrogen Fest" as Zig likes to call it. There are 4 of us lovely lasses, 2 live in florida, my self and the redhead live in michigan. My Mother and grandmother drove from Michigan to Florida weeks ago. I brought with me by plane (if you think i'm drivng a 14 month old and hyper 9 year old 24 hours your more nuts then my mom) both the reds and my daughter who is a physically energetic princess. The Florida sisses have one female room mate and one male. All said, of the11 people in the house :1 man 1 boychild and all the rest baring our right to bitch and change our minds proudly!

Our flight was actually pleasant except for the motion sickness red did not tell me she had before we left. Honestly no one tells the medical proffesional anything of importace at a time I could actually intervene appropriately. Family! Gotta love 'em cuz my backyard is to small for a cemetary. No actuall vomit on the plane but lots of pale green skin and entertaining the red boy from myself. Our favorite game was "stick your feet on the ceiling". I swear people 5 rows back were laughing at our poor attempts to entertain him. The princess did nearly squeeze my finger off during take off.... hint if someone needs to hold your hand never...never give the whole hand... the pressure of bones angainst bones is debilating....one finger... they can cut off the circulation forever without much damage. Our return trip made easier by experience and drugs.

The best of part of "Estrogen fest" had to be the multiple slammin of doors and keeping tabs of who was bitching at who. I am no exception. But in my defence I actually bitch about things worth bitching about. My sisters attitudes change at the drop of ...the drop of... well hell, they're women it changes quickly and dramaticly for any reason. The statement "the sky is blue" could elicit a temper tantrum and a fight. Did I mention I love my family? Honest I do. Even despite the drama it was wonderfull seeing them all again. Honestly I dont think all 4 of us girls have been together since Zig and I got married. I miss them terribly

So here is to the next "estrogen fest" the good, the bad and the hormonal! Zig, when can I go back?

Skinny Dip or Chunky Dunk?

I was talking to my dear friend "Abby" (names have been changed to protect the ...ummm... not so innocent), we were remincing about the the year we spent carousing like alley cats. Delicious fun I must say. We had great adventures in dating and many misadventures to... but we did it together. Which was great since we both were in the process of divorce. She was my companion, drinking buddy, conscience and emergency babysitter. Most of all my dear and infamous friend.

One of our favorite exploits was closing out the local bar then walking the mile to the nearest lake for some moonlight swimming.... sans clothing. As you can image, two reasonably attractive gals insinuating nakedness to inebreated males was well recieved. Sometimes we managed to draw a small crowd. Everyone was welcome. Most were up for the skinny dipping, a few opted to strain their eyes into the darkness from the safety of shore. An entertain evening whether you were wet in the buff or dry on the bluff.

We have since been discovered and coveted by handsome, charming princes. We both have become comfortably padded. Her excuse is better then mine, she has a new child to show off. My friend has informed me: we no longer skinny dip, we now CHUNKY DUNK!

So my question to those brave enough to confess: Do you skinny dip or chunky dunk?

New arrival!

I leave for FLorida on Saturday the 12th, just in time to visit my new neice. She arrived at 1210 am 8.8.06. 7 lbs 3 oz and according to my other sister.... "sniff... sniff.... she is sooooo beautifull! and has tons of dark hair." Thanks to my adoring husband I have a new camera. It can take 300+ pics on each of the memeory sticks Zig picked out for me. I wonder if I can burn up both sticks in the week I will be there?

awwww.... its feels like home...

Thanks to everyone that stopped by after my first real attempt. I am sexcited to be here and looking forward to what lies ahead.

The Angry Beaver

Why do women torture ourselves in the name of beauty? Are we not beautiful even without make up, without hair coloring or perm, without hair removal from various body parts? Even the Mothers of my daughters dance troupe tell their daughters routinely "beauty is pain" or "suffer for your art". Of course that is a desparate ( I paid for classes and costume) Mom trying to convince a 4 to 10 year old that having their twisted hair into the necassary configuration for the recital is immediately mandatory. So for the sake of beauty and convience I submitted myself to (insert evil music here) THE WAXING!!!!!
I had been considering a wax job for some time but honestly just to yellow bellied chicken to have the hair of my nether region ripped out by the roots. And just when did my well behaved patch of curlies expand looking for new territory? Bathing suit season used to be fun and carefree. Now it requires "maintainence". Whether you choose depillatories, the blade, threading or waxing, most of the women I know profess to some sort of "retraining the bush" during the summer months. My upcoming trip to Florida precipated my need for socially acceptable trim of the down there. Normally I have great fun with the blade. I am notorious in the Zig household for random acts of topiary type bush whacking. But I have the 5 o clock shadow issue, and the trip to florida will require hours of pool time. I dont know about you, but getting dirty looks from other people cuz your pubes are trying to assert their independence is a bit uncomfortable for me.
SO the idea of being baby smooth for weeks was appealing. Appealing enough for me to call the local salon and make an appoitment. Yes I paid for this privilage.
NO DAMN WAY! was I going to attempt this at home.
I must confess the call was painless. The sweet voiced gal on the other end even did her best to answer my detailed questions but eventually had to profess quietly "There are people standing right here". Apparently she did not want to offend other customers with a detailed description of a "brazillan". She did however play a interesting game of hot and cold as I attempted to describe various places to be denuded of fuzz while she said yes or no appropriately. The poor thing was so embarrassed she thanked me.
My appointment was for 445. I must say in the 6 hour wait I had to endure that my nerves and imagination got the best of me. I was progressively getting yellower. I did however shower and leave for my appointment, it would have been rude to cancel at the last minute. I thought it was nice of me to consider showering before hand since I had been baking in 90 degree heat with 70% humidity all day.
I arrived just in time and had no wait as the Terri my technition was ready for me. I walked with great bravado up the stairs of a clean and sweet smelling full service day spa. Terri showed me to my torture chamber..... I mean room. I immediately confessed my igonorance and requested Terri to "talk me thru". She was pleasant 50ish but looked 40 good natured redhead. Which was cool, because part of my trepidation was the fear of getting some stodgy, sadist, wickedly ancient matron. Terri instucted be to disrobe form the waist down and provided appropriate cover. (COOL! I like being nekkid). So far so good. We discuss the particulars of the job to be done. I requested enough left so I still looked like a woman and not a lil girl. I have shaved totally nude before and enjoy the feeling but wasnt sure I wanted to commit to weeks of beaver nudity.
The first strip was the left side, the wax pleasantly warm. And to be honest my imagination was way worse then the actuall demise of the offending dark hairs. The discomfort was akin to a sharp slap, and dissipated quickly. Terri frequently reminded my that I was doing "so well". Which made every word of encouragement I'd ever given a patient seem pathetically hollow. We laughed and made small talk all the while she is applying hot wax and removing with deft quick hands follicles of evil. I even learned a bit..... like did you know each follicle site extrudes 3 hairs? I must confess the worst part was not flipping over to bare the back side, nor was it the on the sensitive lips of womanhood.....nooooooo
the worst part was the top of the mons...just under the belly. In fairness Terri did warn me. But the actually RIPPPPPP made me tear. Overall an intersting experience having a strange woman clean your nether regions. When all was said and done I was left with a delicately womanly 2 X 3 inch patch and neatly fuzzy labia. and THE ANGRY BEAVER!
Terri had been kinda enough to leave me some soothing lotion. The act of attempting to smooth the precious pubis actually left it red, tender and wait....is that stubble? and where did row of wild hairs on the edge come from????? I consider the possibilities..... and decide bullpucky I am paying good money for this....I trepidousily crack open the door....."Terri??" I ask about the stubble....she assures me that its irritation and will go while in a few hours but was pleasant about removing the few stays. She tells me that some woman are left so uncomfortable that sex is impossible the first night! EGADS! no sex? I pray for a speedy recovery.
Later that night the angry beaver is really angry it has been hours and remains beet red and stubbly feeling. I clamor in my cupboards for something to assuage the beast. HMMM antibiotics ?... dont want to clog pores.... toner? hell no! alcohol on the red raw sensitive hooch?...... digg digg..... stuff falling out of the cupboard.... I look up... a tiny bottle of eye cream....meant to combat the seven signs of aging.... After carefull consideration .... it helps combat puffiness and smooths lines and corrects color... and made for the delicate eye area PERFECT! and let me tell you it was cool and soothing. Several hours later the RED ANGRY BEAVER reared its now smooth head...
I must confess I was not so bothered by the angry beaver as to for go sex. And was delighted when Zig indicited he wanted not me turn for some delicisous spooning like I thought.... but a sexy deep throated "get that brazillian up here" had me tingling even before his deft tongue pleasured me. The sex was hot, sweaty and absolutely enjoyable after weeks of hiatus. Not our norm at all, but damn its hard to feel sexy when kidneystones are ripping your uretures in two.
After enjoying the after glow of sexual satity, I realized my angry red friend was still not happy. I spent the night with a cold water bottle rotating from left side to top to right side. Next mornig I was feeling delightfully smooth and carefree though still pink on the edges. I considered pics but somehow irritated pics of my snatch did not sound appealing..... you can thank me later for sparing you all.
Several days later I am whimisical about the whole experience and delightfully happy with the now smooth, petite bush I have left. I think next time I will request the "porn star strip". Cuz you know in the Zig house I am the porn star......

First entry.....