Be.Happy.Today

I read Scorps1027's (scorps1027intransit[dot]blogspot[dot]com) blog from today and I feel very positive. Life is unfair. Bottom line. There ain't shit we can do about it. Recognizing this somehow makes me infinitely happier.

I can only control me. There are many women who have been diagnosed infertile by their reproductive endocrinologist (RE) for no good medical reason. Very sucky. I don't know when I'm going to get pregnant. Much about pregnancy is left up to fate. I can control my trying to get pregnant. I'm doing just that:

• Acupuncture weekly
• Chinese Herbs daily
• Basal Body Temperature daily
• Check cervical mucus daily
• Eat healthy/exercise/drink lots of water daily
• Prenatal vitamins daily
• Omega's daily
• Evening Primrose Oil (better quality cervical mucus) daily until ovulation
  
• Sex almost daily
• Meditation and being stress free daily
  

Seriously, I can't try harder. Still doing everything right this cycle won't guarantee a positive pregnancy test. I can stay positive and I can hope.

My dad being sick is unfair. But life is unfair. Bad shit happens to good people. Cancer doesn't discriminate, generally. There's days that a wave of sadness washes over me. I don't ignore it. I let the sadness envelope me and I cry. And then I remember to think all of the happiest memories I can about my dad. All I can do is visit him as much as possible and be there for my mom. I can choose to celebrate my father's life instead of mourn it. He has always been a fan of parties!

Lesson learned: I can't let one moment of my life pass me by without being exuberantly happy (or at least trying). I am married to the love of my life and have amazing family and friends. And I happen to like myself. Happiness is mine today and all the days of my life if I allow it.

If My Husband Had Cancer

If my brother had cancer. If my mother had cancer. If my child had cancer. If my friend had cancer. If my loved one had cancer. My dad has cancer. If a bone marrow transplant could save my loved one, I would move heaven and earth to find a match.

This post deeply saddened me. I can only imagine what the wife is going through. A picture of the couple is to the right. Her husband is 28 years old with a rare form of leukemia diangosed in November 2006. He's a medical student. Their life is just starting. She shouldn't be afraid of losing her life-partner. I can't even imagine losing my husband.

From Vinay's website (Vinay is the one who has cancer):

When a Caucasian is looking for a match they find 15 matches on an average where as opposed to an Indian they might find one match or none.

There are not enough South Asians in the bone marrow registry. Since Vinay is Indian, there is a greater likelihood of finding a match among the same population as we share similar genes (genetic markers). It is important that as many Indians join the Bone Marrow Registry in the upcoming weeks to maximize Vinay's chances of finding a suitable donor.

There are drives happening in CA. Click on Vinay's website for more info. Otherwise you can always register NMDP. My husband and I are going to register next weekend.

Spilled Spermies

According to baby-making sex, unfortunately, missionary style is the best position to conceive. The problem is I cum from being on top. I need to be on top so that I control the friction of the dickens inside by gyrating my hips. Sure I've cum from missionary or doggie style, but me on top is guaranteed mind-blowing orgasm. The sacrifices I make for tubby.

Yesterday was a shit-fest of a day. I needed a release. When hubby came home I climbed on top of him. I needed to O from a dickens! Luckily I came at the same time hubby came. Generally hubby is great at holding off on ejaculating, but I've become a sperm-nazi. He's not allowed to masturbate. He no longer gets head. All baby batter must be inside of me. Trust me, if I could pregnant by giving head, I'd have TMJ by now.

So I slowly slid off hubby squeezing my vagina as tightly as I could (to not lose spermies). I elevated my hips and then passed out. As soon as I got out of bed this morning, all of the cum ran down my legs. When we have morning sex in the missionary position, I lay down for 30 minutes to let the spermies get to the desired location and I hop out of bed. I barely lose any spermies. Not like the gush this freaking morning -- sperm flood.

What the fuck? Aren't the orgasms supposed to contract my vaginal walls and suck up the sperm? This kid isn't even born yet and s/he's already ruining my sex life!

Being Kind...

...to myself. I woke up this morning drained. And that's okay. My body needs rest. I may not get to the grocery store today. I may not get will not to the gym today. I'm going to go home and crawl underneath my covers and sleep. I am taking away my self created guilt and judgement.

Happy Memories

I’m not sure what I expected from this weekend. Perhaps finding some kind of meaning for my dad’s suffering. Sadly, I’m no wiser to understanding why a man, a good man, has to endure so much pain, suffering and indignity. I want to believe that God has a plan and that all of this has purpose. I want to believe; yet I struggle.

I do know that the pictures of my dad from this weekend are not the way I want to remember him. He’s not a 90-pound man that lies silently on the floor that needs to be walked to the bathroom, that needs his children to spoon-feed him, and that pushes away food after a few bites. My dad is loud. My dad runs to the door to greet me with hugs and kisses. He insists that I eat more than a bowl full of food. He scolds me for my forever dieting. He cleans off several plates of rice in the same time it takes me to eat a bowl. He loves foods. He enjoys every single bite. He is fat with life. He’s a chef. Food is his passion. My dad can out party me on my best night. He’s the first to get inebriated and the last to leave the dance floor. My dad loves banter. He loves to pick play fights with me. He loves to laugh out loud when I am frustrated. My dad loves people. He can’t get enough the company of others (with good food and wine of course). My dad is devious with a sweet smile. My dad loves everything about living.

It’s the silence that is hard to bear. I’ve never sat in silence with him. He has always been noisy beyond words. That’s the way I want to remember him. Noisy. Exuberant. Passionate. Stubborn. Infuriating. Playful. Silly. Loving. Loyal. My loudest forever cheerleader.

Overwhelming Anxiety

It's 1:06 AM on Sunday morning and I can't sleep. I'm at my in-laws. We arrived to the Bay late Friday night. It's easy being here. Both my MIL and FIL are in awesome health. There aren't any worries here. No worries about cancer. No worries about money. Our biggest worry is coordinating a family trip to Cabo San Lucas.

I feel guilty that I don't want to leave the Bay and head up to see my own family in Sacramento at 8 am (less than 7 hours away). My mom is in CT this weekend. My brother is watching my dad b/c he really can't function on his own. Tomorrow(I guess today) I will watch my dad until my mom flies back around 10 PM. I spoke to my dad for a minute yesterday. I couldn't understand him. He can hardly speak. I feel so guilty for writing this -- and I am a bad person for feeling this -- I do NOT want to deal with this. I'm not looking forward to seeing him. I am so scared.

I feel like I am just waiting for my dad to die. Instead of being happy for every moment I get to spend with him, I feel incredible anxiety. What the fuck is wrong with me? I just feel like fucking crying. This is so fucking miserable. I don't feel ready to deal with any of this and I hate myself for it.

Shedding My Sari @ Uberdesi

I have a weekly column (every Wednesday) over at Uberdesi about sex/relationships. I'm going by a pen name, Amrita, so don't blow my cover. This past Wednesday's topic was about funk-nasty tasting gism. Here's the website: uberdesi[dot]com, just scroll down until you find Wednesday's post, if you're so inclined.

In other news. I'm off to the Bay this weekend to see my dad. I need to get packing! I just rolled out of bed at 11:45 AM. This is the one perk of working for the feds -- 4 day weekend baby!!!

P.S. If you any burning sex/relationship topics you'd like me to write about let me know!

Lights On!

I'm generally a fan of sex with the lights off. A nice orgasm helps me sleep better. But this is not about O'ing, this is all about getting the baby batter into the oven. Hubby's schedule has just gone crazy again. He's coming home at all hours of the night. I'm passed out cold by the time he gets home. I simply can not stay awake for him until the wee hours of the morning. Plus, hubby's exhausted when he gets home. I need fresh batter!

The new plan is having a quicky in the morning the nights hubby gets home mad late (which will be Monday-Friday). Here's how the week played out thus far -- I set my alarm for 6:15 AM. Took my temperature. Ran to the bathroom to pee. Woke up hubby with seductive kisses. Got the batter into the oven. Kept hips elevated until 6:45 AM. Got dressed (pantyliner to catch excess gism) and ran out the door by 7 AM praying that hubby's swimmers reached their goal. A hectic morning for sure. But starting the day with a dickens inside ain't bad.

Justice for the Murder of Nupur Srivastava

My girl Nirali sent me this email:

Dearest Family and Friends,

I've spoke to many of you about the shocking death of my friend Nupur. As a number of you have asked about what you may do to help I am asking you to read on further. There is a petition being circulated below requesting justice for Nupur. Please read below for further information as to what happened to Nupur, and also follow the link to the petition. If you may, please sign the petition and forward it on to your family and friends. Thank you all for your support emotionally and through signing the petition.

Love,
Nirali

Here's the sad scoop (from Nirali's email):

I knew Nupur and her family, and her cousin, Richesh, is extremely dear to me. Please sign the etition to ensure that justice is achieved in her case (please read the brief below about what happened to her if you are not familiar with the case).

http://www.petitiononline.com/nupurs/petition.html

Indianapolis, IN. On April 3, 2007, Perry Township authorities responded to a 911 call made from a private home, finding a badly burned Nupur Srivastava, 33, who told the police that her boyfriend at the time, Michael Wilson, poured gasoline on her and set her afire. Nupur suffered from third-degree burns, the most severe kind, over 80 percent of her body. She remained in critical condition in the burn unit, in a medically-induced coma, until approximately 3 a.m. on May 15th, Mother's Day, when she finally succumbed to her severe injuries. Her family had a private memorial service in Indianapolis for her the following Tuesday.

Nupur's chilling words during a 911 call and inside an ambulance will likely be crucial to the case. A man had called 911 from the home in the 8500 block of Winding Ridge Road, according to a police probable cause affidavit, and a female voice believed to be Nupur's could be heard in the background. "Why did you do that?" she said. "I didn't know it was going to be like that," the male caller said. Later, the police affidavit stated Nupur told a Perry Township firefighter: "He poured gas on me and burned me."

Michael Wilson is currently being held in the Marion County Jail without bond, charged with murder. He initially told investigators the fire was an accident, that he was trying to light a grill in the backyard, but police investigation found the plastic raincover on the grill still in place. He later changed details of his account, according to police investigation. The couple began dating in December and had experienced problems. In March, police responded to a report of abuse involving the couple at a motel, but neither wanted to press a formal complaint, according to police, so no further action was taken. A few days ater, Nupur called 911 at another motel in Greenwood. Wilson admitted to police on the scene that he had pushed her, and in that case, he was arrested on a preliminary charge of public intoxication.

Skinny with a Bump

This article is sort of psycho. I am a size 0/2. But come on let's be real.... I'm not going to be a skinny minny during pregnancy. The fucking media (stupid celebrity bitches) make it seem like every pregnant woman is a stick with a bump. "Perhaps at no time and in no place in history have so many women been under so much pressure to stay thin and gorgeous while simultaneously producing a human life." There will be zero dieting during pregnancy. I don't want a malnourished child. I need to increase my calories by about 250 calories/day (calcium rich like milk/yogurt and extra fruits/veggies). I don't generally eat unhealthy so during pregnancy you can bet that everything going into my mouth will be good for my baby. I will continue to do moderate exercise (walk/swim/pre-natal yoga/pre-natal Pilates).

But this shit is psycho:

On New York’s UrbanBaby, a popular Website where women share and kvetch about everything from baby names to real estate to the intricacies of sonograms, “weight polls” regularly erupt:
13 weeks, 4 lbs
24 weeks, 20 lbs!
13 weeks, 0 pounds (Okay, I might have gained a pound or two in the very beginning but that’s at most. Should I be concerned?)
Check with your doctor but probably fine.
. . .13 weeks, 12 lbs! I feel like a hippo compared to you!
25 weeks, 24 lbs! (No wait. Did the math wrong. 22 lbs. Wow. I feel better.)

Occasionally, a naysayer will interrupt the endless flow: “148 weeks, three thousand pounds. Just f--kin’ eat, gain weight, get fat if you want, have a healthy baby, lose the weight if you want, get on with your life!!!” But libertines are quickly put in their place—“It sounds like somebody is unhappy about the weight she has gained”—and the expectant mothers happily return to plugging in their weeks and weight, weeks and weight.

I'll be the first person to admit that I am obsessed with my size. Yeah I eat healthy and work out (generally 3 days a week at the gym and one day on the weekend hiking). My doctor thinks my weight is just fine. I calorie-count -- but I do get enough calories and do not skip meals. But let me real with all of you -- I don't do it just for my health, I mainly do all of this shizz to look good and the health is just an added benefit. Why lie about the truth?

This is coming from a weight conscious crazy chick -- the women described in this article are insane. I promise you when I am pregnant and eating healthy and doing moderate exercise, I will not freak out as my weight increases. Uhm hello, the baby comes first???

Envious Monster

I can honestly say that I'm not was not a jealous envious person. You can be more beautiful, intelligent, wealthy, kind, loving, funny, artistic, cool or anything and I usually don't give a shizz. If you're my friend I'm happy for you.

Jealousy Envy has reared her ugly green head. Lately, I boil over with anger every time I hear about someone's pregnancy. I can't deal with it. Yeah yeah yeah -- I am happy for you. BUT I HATE YOU sort of but not in a per se evil way, if that makes any sense.

I've been so down the past few days. My period finally came on Saturday. Yup, another long ass cycle. This time my cycle was 45 days long. I suppose that's better than 50 days???? I have a lazy lazy lazy cycle. Acupuncture really isn't doing miracles for me.

I am in no mood to hear, "don't worry you'll get pregnant" or "oh honey stress won't help you" or "if you stop trying you'll get knocked up." Fuck that shit. People get pregnant everyday who do jumping jacks after sex because they don't want a baby. People get knocked up while they're taking birth control or using condoms. I obviously have lots (tons) of sex. I have so much gism inside of me, it's drips out of me all day long. I need a pantyliner to soak up the spermies. You would think I'd be knocked up by now. [Insert bitter laugh]

Fuck yoga and mediation. I am optimistic almost daily. I can have one day where I am in a foul mood about this whole pregnancy bullshit.

Today started off just lovely. I went to my OBGYN to get blood drawn. The needle slipped out of my vein so the phlebotomist had to search for the vein on my left arm which is hard as hell to find [translation: wiggle need in left arm to cause much pain]. I needed to get my hormones checked because my OBGYN wants me to go on Clomid. I'll probably start next cycle with the fertility drug. Clomid basically shortens my cycle to 28 days and ensures that my body releases an egg. The only drawback is that Clomid increases the chance of multiple births, especially twins.

So here's the game plan for this cycle:

1. Take basal body temperature every morning at 6 am.
2. Pee on ovulation sticks to find out if I even ovulate this cycle.
3. The days I am ovulating, lube myself up with pre-seed lubricant.
   
4. Have sex every fucking day (sleep deprived or not). I will drive to my husband's work and eff him in his office if need be -- I am not joking. [goes into effect immediately]
   
5. Meditate daily and start being positive [goes into effect tomorrow -- I need a day off from being a cheerleader.]
   

Hollywood Farmer's Market = Food Heaven

I woke up at 7:30 AM on Sunday morning and hopped out of bed. I was full of such excitement. Open door glorious farmer's market. I grabbed my canvas bag and zipped on over to find farm fresh free range eggs, vibrant produce and even sinfully delicious gluten free chocolate chip cookies. I went crazy, like a kid in a toy store, and carried as many bags full of produce as I could carry. Everything was super affordable. I'm not joking when I say, if you fill your kitchen with such delicious food, there is ZERO craving for over processed crap food. One of the many reasons I am in love with California: fresh organic delicious affordable produce all fucking year round baby!!!

These cherries are orgasmic. Better than candy. Sweet. Rich. Sinfully decadent.

I don't even like strawberries but fell in love with these organic beauties. Fresh. Fragrant. For dessert I munched on the strawberries and bit of dark cholate. Can we say heaven?

Green goodness. Sugar snap peas. No need to cook. I ate them as is. So crunchy. Forget potato chips or any over processed junk-- I would eat sugar snap peas any day as a tasty snack.

I packed my lunches for the week. A salad bowl and a fruit bowl (cherries/strawberries/rasberries)

The best thing is I feel so healthy without even trying. I'm not giving up flavor. I am excited about going to work tomorrow just so I can eat my lunch -- and that's say a lot if you know me. The beauty of food gets me a bit choked up.

Romance, In Its Simple Form, Is Beautiful

I think a lot of men assume that romance = spending money. Not so my friends. Romance is taking the time/consideration to show that special someone that you care. It's not about flowers and diamonds and spending money. Bling bling don't necessarily mean a thang.

I fell asleep last night with my cell phone near my ear. I called hubby's work and he put me on speakerphone. The click click click of hubby's computer keyboard put me to sleep. Hubby must have read my blog before he came home at 5 am. He gently whispered in my ear, "honey, wake up, I want to kiss you.. a real kiss." I remember the passionate lingering kiss. I fell asleep immediately afterwards. That was simply romantic.

This morning I received unconcious romance. I kissed hubby goodbye as usual. This time he talked to me in his sleep. He grabbed me. Wrapped his arms around me. Then he said, "I miss you so much. I love you. Don't ever go. Stay here." I honestly thought about calling out from work. I gently told him that I had to leave for work and he went back to sleep like nothing ever happened.

Last Kiss

I don't remember the last time I really smooched my baby. Hubby has been working insane hours lately. When he gets home in the wee hours of the morning I am usually asleep. I have been so exhausted this week, probably b/c Aunt Flo is just around the corner. I kinda remember him kissing me last night when he got home. I wake up crazy early (uhm 6:50 AM is crazy early for me) to be at work at 7:30 AM and hubby is always asleep. Our work hours clearly don't jive. I kissed him softly this morning and he smiled in his sleep. I want to smooch my baby when both of us are awake!

I don't want to make hubby feel guilty. One of the reasons that I really admire my husband is because he honestly loves his job. He's doing what he loves and I envy him. I don't get it. His work bores me to tears. I would stab myself in the eye repeatedly if I had his job!

It's 11 PM and I'm tired. I want to stay awake for him. I hate going to sleep when he's not by my side. My worst fear is that I'll wake up from my sleep and find that some tragedy has taken away my husband. It happens all the time. Maybe this is just my silly fear(but not so silly b/c the tragedy of losing a loved one happens daily for someone). When I think about never kissing him again -- I feel like I can't breathe.

Okay now I'm officially sad. I made myself sad. Lovely. PMS is a wonderful bag of emotional surprises, ain't it? It's time for a nice long cry.

Did I Give Law A Chance?

Assumptions and more assumptions. For the first 2 years of marriage I brought home the $$. Yet, it is always assumed by family that I have to go where hubby's career calls him.I feel stuck in a precarious place. He's got one of those high powered prestigious jobs. Now he makes significantly more than me. I work in the public sector and with the salary difference I am *starting* to feel that my career is more expendable (scary).It's besides the point that I am not fond of law or law school or my current related position. I don't like to feel that my career is expendable. I want a 2nd career and a fabulous one. Perhaps I haven't realized my career dreams but it doesn't mean I don't want one!

I posted the above comment on a blogger bud's (Lag Liv) blog. My comment got me thinking about why I hate the law so much and am so vehemently opposed to a career choice that I put good money and effort into. I worked at a law firm as a Summer and I hated it. I worked at the Attorney General's Office and I hated it (anti-trust law, gag me with a spoon NOW). I was a Mediator for a local Court and I loved it. My job now is quasi-legal (more legal than not) and it's okay.

I am planning on staying home with tubs and bubs until they reach school age. I think all the time about a second career. My second career fantasies never have anything to do with the law. Ever. However, a career is important to me.

Here's the thing about me -- I am a *giver upper*. When things aren't going my way, I walk away. I like the sunny and the new. I went to law school because I was confused and a professional degree seemed like a good idea at the time. Things seemed to go wrong right after graduation. The CalBar was not my friend. I hated the firm(s) I worked for. I wanted to walk away and I did. But now I'm afraid to walk back, even a step.

I dunno. I just don't. I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I don't know if I really don't like law. I don't know if I'm just chicken shit. I just know that I want a fabulous career and simultaneously be the fabulous mother and fabulous wife who is there for her family. Is it wrong to want so much fabulous-ness while being so utterly confused?

[Update]: After I get pregnant I'm taking the MPRE (again since it expired) and plan on studying for the Bar while being at home with Tubs. Do you know how good it feels to type that? I need to conquer this ghost and move on.

Wicked

The Good: Free tix to see Wicked @ the Pantages Theater in Hollywood (thank you hubby's work) .

The Bad: The show was no where as good as the first time I saw it in NYC when it opened with Kristin Chenoweth.

The Wicked: Getting stood up by my date, hubby, for some work shiznit (screw you hubby's work -- just kidding kinda).

The Wickedly Delicious: My good friend, Moon, subbed in for the hubster as my replacement date. Nothing beats good friends.

Interesting observation from this former Constitution State Chick ~ wicked has been replaced with hella in my vocabulary. Not that I would ever say hella;)

My Holes Hella Hurt

I have tried all day to be drug free by ignoring the horrible pain. The massive gaping holes in my mouth, 4 to be exact, hurt so badly. I am so ready for another round of Vicodin. Fuck this pain. Hubby just got home, let's have a repeat of Sunday, shall we?

Sex, Drugs & Masturbation

I think I'm still high from Sunday's pill party.

Sunday morning started the best way possible. Hubby and I slept in. The few weekends hubby has free from work are usually enjoyed by a sex-romp fest. We were able to enjoy round 1 of the sex-romp fest before the crackberry summoned my hubby to the office.

Let me first say I did nothing illegal. I have a prescription for Vicodin and Valium. My wisdom teeth "holes" started hurting as the sex endorphins were gone. I decided to pop a dash of Vicodin, pinch of Valium and a cup full of vino. I felt like I was looking at the world through BluBlockers -- a hazy shade of sunny Summer.

Soon I started to feel turned on. I started to gently rub my legs together. It felt good. I didn't want a small tremor of an orgasm, I wanted an explosion. My vibrator was no where to be found. How someone loses a vibrator is a story for another time. As I have mentioned before I am not well-versed in tickling myself with my own fingers. The three V's (Vicodin, Valium, Vino) filled me with desire, sexual adventure and courage. With one hand cupping my breast and one hand on my vagina -- I came. Hard. Alone. Sans mechanical devices. Sticky fingers. Sweet nectar. Delicious. I liked it so much that I did it a few more times, I know I'm a show-off.

So today I sit here sipping my detox tea. No more pills for me. As my friend C told me, "I want to come back as a pill in my next life."

The lesson learned: Sexual enjoyment is everywhere, even in wisdom teeth removal.

Valium is CRAP, Laughing Gas Rocks, Vicadin Makes Me Happy

So I took one pill of Valium. NOTHING. I took a second pill of Valium. NOTHING. What's the hype about Valium? It did nothing for me. NOTHING.

So I'm at the oral surgeon's office flipping out. I was scared shitless. He offered me laughing gas for $120. I'm cheap but sometimes the money is well worth it. Can I tell you that laughing gas is magic? I was in complete and total euphoria. I felt the Novocaine injections (I had 5 or 6) and they hurt like hell but I literally did not give a shit. I remember thinking -- hmmm... this hurts.. whateva...this feels so good. I started crying. I was overcome with complete and total happiness. My husband was in the room with me. I kept trying to say, "I love you."

Dr. Peck is brilliant. All four of my teeth were out in about 5 minutes. I love this man. Afterwards I kept hugging my husband. My love for hubby was incredibly intense (more so than usual)

So now I'm on Vicadin. I don't feel high. But the drug has taken away my pain and is making me feel very happy. The world looks quite sunny. I'm feeling so in love with my family and friends (IRL and blogger buds).

I love all of you. Happy Dance!!!!

Yummy Mother's Day Card

My mom really isn't a card person. She thinks they're a colossal waste of money. Of course I want to send her a Mother's Day card. I found the perfect card here -- one you can eat! Who doesn't like a cookie?

Edibles greeting card cookies are $15.00 plus shipping, measure approximately 5 x 7 inches, and weigh about one pound.They are 100% edible sugar cookies with butter-cream frosting, and come beautifully gift wrapped with a ribbon and die-cut accent tag.We ship through UPS directly to the recipient anywhere in the United States (additional shipping charges for Hawaii and Alaska).

Running Out of Time

Regret: I wish I had many more pictures of my dad and me. You just never think that time is running out. I've had a lump in my throat since I got off the phone with my dad. He's in the hospital again (this has unfortunately become routine). The doctor has put a hold on his second round of chemo b/c he's so weak. My precious dad who has always been overweight is down to 100 lbs. My mom told me the doctors are advising him to go to hospice. My dad doesn't want to go to hospice and die, he says he's not ready. Hell, none of us are ready.

The picture above is from my birthday last year. My dad had just finished his chemo and he felt invincible. We all thought he had beaten this wretched disease. He was so excited to come visit. Hubby [such an amazing amazing man] planned a family road trip (my parents and us) to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon. It was so much fun. My dad had a blast. He was all smiles.

Before, I would call my dad and we would fantasize about our next trips. We would talk about a family trip to India this Christmas. Maybe a trip to Hawaii. He would get so excited. He doesn't mention the trips anymore. I finally have money (my husband has money**) to take my dad to places he always dreamed of.

We never vacationed much when I was young. My dad is such a hard worker. He worked 7 days a week and 16 hours a day to make my life and my brother's life better. My family is blue-collar. He's never had the chance to travel or really have fun. I want to go on adventures with my dad and see the world together. I want to give him so much. It breaks my heart that I may never have that opportunity.

Do you ever play the if X happens then most definitely Y will happen? I've been playing that game: If I get pregnant then dad will definitely stay alive to see his grandson/daughter. I just don't have that hope anymore.

FUCK CANCER. It's robbed me of my hope.

[**I can't even put into words how generous my husband is. He has treated my family like his own from day 1. He calls my dad his best-friend. I have a wonderful man. ]

Kill the Troll

Ennis brought up a good point -- don't visit the troll's blog. Unsuitable bitch thrives off of attention. There's no doubt in my mind that she is glued to her computer (b/c the i-net is her only friend) and snorting with glee every time she gets a hit on her blog. Perhaps she'll crawl back under the bridge she came from after seeing little activity on stat counter. She's a pathetic vile wench.

Happy Valium Day

I have been jonseing for drugs. I need it. My happy pill of choice is Valium. I get all 4 of my wisdom teeth extracted on Friday with just local anaesthesia. It took 2 weeks to get the pre-authorization from my insurance company. My dentist requested local anesthesia only. What the f*ck? The timing is perfect -- my period is on its way -- as soon as the teeth are extracted I can get back to baby-making. I don't want to give up another month of TTC (trying to conceive) by waiting for 2 additional weeks to get approval for general anesthesia. So fine, I'll have my first surgery ever with just local anesthesia. But damnit all, give me Valium.

I called my GP today and spoke to the receptionist. I was scared of requesting such a hardcore pill. I had verbal diahreah on the phone. I was so afraid she would think I was some OC housewife popping pills and boozing it up. The receptionist very nicely told me to have my pharmacy call in the prescription that I wanted. It was that easy to get Valium!

I have never tried Valium in my life. I'm a bit nervous but it looks like a lot of folks take Valium before the wisdom teeth surgeory. Cheers to getting high legally. This will be like a legal Phish concert.

I Feel So Guilty

That's me above!!! It's so nice feeling safe. I feel all snug as a bug:)

So, I have taken all of your advice and am making the blog private at least for now. I feel so guilty that I have duped readers on manifestmydesire[dot]blogspot[dot]com. I'm getting so much love from my community and it's a lie -- hopefully soon I will be preggers and I'd love to have twins.

I'll be honest, the troll (unsuitablegal[dot!]blogspot[dot!]com) really does scare me. I don't have any idea how she (I think it's a she) found out my real name. I think this is the same bitch who had a blog hating me (myhusbandismylife[dot!]blogspot[dot!]com). The writing style is very similar. She ended up taking that blog down. Then the bitch came back with a vengeance finding out my real name and outing me along with other SM folks. I've been dealing with the same fucking troll for almost a year now. Who the hell hates so much??? It's seriously psychotic. I thought about making my old blog private, but my fear was that it would anger her. And she would either a)try to hack in or b)vent her anger by trying to dig up more information about me. Maybe I'm being crazy. My biggest fear is that she would try to embarrass my husband. Hubby works way to hard to have to deal with idiotic hateful bullshit at work. So I weighed the risks and decided to fuck it all and start fresh.

It wasn't hard for me to let all of you know that I have a new blog. But I hate being so suspicious and always wondering if someone has an ulterior motive, just trying to get personal info out of me. There were many readers who I was suspicious of, not because of anything they did, but because of this situation with the troll's blog. If I didn't feel 100% safe about a reader, I just didn't email them.

The reason I made up the pregnancy lie:

1. It's believable. I think it's probably the only reason I'd leave blogging. Not wanting to deal with hate or trolls in a delicate pregnant state
2. I believe in the Law of Attractions. Writing that blog post made me believe that I was pregnant. If I believe I am pregnant or will be pregnant -- I will attract pregnancy. It doesn't hurt!

So, if any of you know someone who reads my blog and is non-sketch, let me know! Cheers to safe blogging!

Fresh Start

New Blog -- free from trolls. You most likely found my blog b/c I sent you an email. I beg you -- please do not link this url to your blog or to any website.

This is a fresh start away from all hate and negativity. Sometimes you gotta fight and other times it's better to walk away. I can deal with someone hating me but it's not cool to put up pics of my husband or post my maiden name online. I obviously want to be anonymous or I'd be using my real name. You don't fuck with my family, EVER.

I am never linking this url to any website. So the good news is, being troll free, I have much more freedom. I might even start posting pics!!! I'm going to stay positive. I'm going to keep blogging. Much love to all of you.

P.S. Do not go from my blog to the troll's blog. She may find me if you do this. I know that if you have stat counter, the blog author is able to find out where the readers are coming from. Please be careful. I do not want the troll finding this blog.

Zoo

I'm not shy about sex or a prude. As long as it's consensual it's all good. Guy and guy. Girl and girl. FTM. MTF. Group orgies. Whatever floats your boat. Having a horse penis inserted in your anus -- that I am NOT cool with. Call me a Zoo-ist (anti-zoophile).

I watched Zoo at the Nuart Theatre. The film is a documentary about Kenneth Pinyan, a man who died from internal bleeding b/c the horse's penis perforated his colon. There was one quick shot of the horse penis -- it was thicker than my bicep. I'm not surprised that he died. I am surprised that he didn't go to the hospital immediately. Wasn't his anus bleeding???

I don't like the slippery-slope argument, "oh it's not natural therefore it should be illegal." What the hell does natural mean? Was this animal cruelty? I dunno. The horse was doing the thrusting in the man's anus. I suppose an animal would really f*ck anything.

Should it be illegal? I dunno. Do I find it disgusting? Yes. Morally reprehensible? I dunno about that. Would I judge you, if you got your ass f*cked by a horse? Yes. I wouldn't be your friend.

The Good Ones

I get a lot of crap slung my way by anonymous trolls who like to marinate in hate. Hate gets them off. Whatever, I’m not going to stop blogging. I love that blogging has given me a sense of community, when the idea of community seems impossible. I have moved from Connecticut to Boston to the Bay Area to Los Angeles and won’t be surprised if we head out East in the foreseeable future. My blog keeps me connected with IRL and blogging friends. Loves it. I am posting an excerpt of a comment I received today that made my heart smile.

Hey I've been reading your blog for a long time, even though I'm a 23 year old guy and don't necessarily have that much in common with you other than the fact we're both brown.I have to admit, I keep coming back because your blog is like a daily dose of faith in love, even for a guy. Your openness, honesty and faith in your relationship are refreshing in a world so overcome by cynicism, infidelity and selfishness. I have to say you seem like the perfect wife, and Hubby is a lucky man.

I won’t ever stop believing in the good in people, even if that makes this L.A. chick a naiveté country bumpkin. For every one troll I encounter, I meet that many more wonderful and kind-hearted people. Mad love for all of you, and yes even you my trolls.

Because She Is Brown

I never take work home with me. I would be an emotional wreck if I did. I deal with some intensely personal issues. I do my job with professionalism and to the best of my ability. When 6 PM hits, I close my door and leave all of my clients’ problems at the office, usually.

On my drive home I started thinking about the Punjabi lady who called me. She had my MIL’s name and even sounded like her. I don’t want to say I’m a bitch, but I don’t usually get emotional when clients cry to me. I stay logical, focused and detached. But when this brown woman cried and I heard her Punjabi accented English asking for help between her sobs, my heart went out to her. I f*cking thought about her on my entire drive home.

My heart was heavy last night b/c I kept thinking what if MIL or my mom were in Punjabi lady’s shoes. Now my mind is clouded with emotion. Wonderful.

Sex: Ongoing Edumucation

There’s no reason why a sex life should stagnate. I have learned so much from your comments to my post below. Hell, reading a lot of those comments got me incredibly turned on. I encourage you all to read the comments and comment yourself; you’ll find true gems of sexual wisdom.

The lessons learned are (1) always use the lightest touch when touching a clit (she can always ask you to add more pressure – LIGHT LIGHT LIGHT) (2) communicate with your partner (3) trust your partner (4) know your own turn on and body (5) remember that everyone has a different turn on.

Some girls like... (just to name a few)

• romance/sensual touches
• rough sex
• watching porno
• anal sex
• a finger in the ass
• linear or circular strokes on the clit OR no clit touching
• spanking
• the shocker
  
• dirty talk
• toe f*cking
• wants their guy to cum on them (breasts, ass, stomach, yoni or even face)
• clit sucking
• fisting
• nipple rubbing or light biting
• role playing fantasies

There is no right way to be turned on, have sex or climax. Make up the rules as you go. Don’t be embarrassed or shy about what you like. I’ll admit it, I love the the shocker or just a finger in my ass as I’m about to climax. I get turned on by porno. I like it when my husband talks dirty to me. Somedays all I want to do is suck my husband’s cock dry. I get turned on by him cumming on me, especially on my yoni. What I’m trying to say is all women are different. Don't be shy about your desire, manifest your desire. Have fun learning about one another.

Love your body. Love your turn on. Anything and everything goes as long as it’s consensual.

***All of you who posted comments, you’re all ROCKSTARS in my book. Mad love.

P.S. Never put anything in a woman's anus w/o permission:)
P.P.S. Post all comments about sex on the previous post... which is why I have closed comments on this post. I am re-directing you.

Blessed Art Thou Orgasm

Participation (Please): I know I have readers out there, I’ve got stat counter. If you’re shy, that’s fine, post anonymously; I want all of your tips/advice about sex and orgasms. What turns you on? What gets you off? Be raunchy, I don’t care (that’s actually more fun). I want this post to be educational.

If I could do it all over again, I would have become a sex therapist. Sex is my passion. Helping others achieve an “O” gives me a high. This comment prompted this post:

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Rubbery Pickle":

Hi BC. Do you have to orgasm every time you have sex? My GF doesn't do it all the time and I always feel like I'm not doing my job.

Anon in the middle ofthe USA!

Anon, this one’s for you! Yes, as Samantha said, “when I RSVP to a party, I always cum.”

Mood

A woman’s body is very delicate and she may not be feeling as amorous as her partner likes AND it has nothing to do with the partner. I have to unclutter my mind before I am ready to orgasm. If my mind is somewhere else and not fully present in my body there is no way I can cum. It’s not just about pushing the right buttons or nubbin.

What helps me personally? Yoga/Exercise. Vino. Sensual massage. Sensual buffet. Laughing. Playing together and being silly. Lying in bed and connecting with my husband. We have a ritual every night where we lie in bed and snuggle and talk about our day. That connection helps to unclutter my mind and bring back my turn on.

And honestly, it’s okay to not always be in the mood. Honor your body. Touching, kissing, nibbling, caressing and playing can all be just as rewarding as Oing.

Does She Feel Sexy?

Many women have body issues. Hell, I’m a size zero and I sometimes feel fat. I do. I admit it. Sometimes I’m really bloated and I feel like a whale. I don’t feel sexy. I got over it. It’s important to love my body as is, because if I can’t love it, how can a man love my body?

Here’s how I got over my body issues: I was in a women’s circle, in San Francisco of course, where all of the ladies got naked. I remember being so nervous and scared. I was insecure about my body. I got up slowly, faced a roomful of women and took off all of my clothes until I was down to my birthday suit. I hadn’t even trimmed my bush and was slightly embarrassed. The rest of the girls took turns telling me the beauty they saw in my body. I felt my body being cocooned in love. I then turned around, faced a mirror and really looked at myself. I remember being so surprised, for the first time I saw a beautiful, womanly body in front of me. It was so overwhelming that I fought to hold back tears. I’ll never forget the experience… being naked with other women and just loving our bodies. I finally got over (most) of my body issues.

Obviously that kind of experience is not for everyone. I encourage all women to take off their clothes and look at themselves. Touch yourselves with your fingers or a soft silk scarf (experiment with different materials and textures), anything you like. Feel the softness of your skin. Close your eyes and trace your fingers over every portion of your skin. What feels good? What turns you on? Find your turn on. If you’re feeling adventurous, invite a friend to help you explore your body male or female:)

Can She Get Herself Off?

I believe this with every fiber of my being, know your yoni. Every woman needs to know how to cum. I remember being 8 years old and learning that if I rubbed my legs together I could cum, a small tremor of an orgasm, but still an orgasm. I am ashamed to admit that I can’t make myself cum from rubbing my clit with my own fingers. I need a mechanical device. My vibrator of choice is the Hitachi magic wand, it plugs into an outlet. I’ve killed one too many battery operated vibrators. What's your favorite vibrator?

Take a mirror and really look at your pussy, alone or with a partner. Explore every fold of your pussy. Name her. Own her. She is beautiful. Lighting and music, at least for me, is important. Make your environment sexy. Have a field day with your vibrator or your fingers. Be patient. The orgasm will come.

Technique/Patience

Men, listen up, a vagina is delicate. This is a great book, Satisfaction: The Art of the Female Orgasm (Hardcover) by Kim Cattrall. Rough sex can be great if the partner wants it. But the clit is super sensitive. LIGHT TOUCHES. Learn how to get your woman off manually, with your fingers and your tongue. My husband wrote a great post about this, but unfortunately for trolls, I had to take it down. Here’s a gist of what he wrote: FOREPLAY. FOREPLAY. FOREPLAY. In other words, don’t attack her pussy with your fingers, tongue or penis, okay? Engage the woman’s entire body first. Everything on her body should be turned on from head to toe before you go near the va-ja-ja.

What works for me? Light strokes on the clit. I like his fingers slowly touching the outside of Connie (my pussy’s name is Connie My Punnanie). His fingers slowly working their way to my yoni lips. At this point I am usually quite moist, if not, Astroglide is my lubricant of choice. I like light short strokes on my clit. With time I like the strokes to be fast, really fast until climax.

I don’t always cum in a matter of minutes. Sometimes I need lots of time to orgasm. There are times when it’s a lot of work for hubby, a lot of work. His fingers, penis and tongue can get very tired. If my body is taking a long time to cum, hubby usually stops focusing on the yoni and tries to engage the rest of my body. That always works for me. I don’t usually cum from every position through only penile penetration and no manual clitoral stimulation. I always cum from the pure penis pleasure when I’m on top, riding him (my position of choice).

Conclusion

There’s so much I want to say but this post has gotten way to long. Just be patient. Keep trying to always make sex fun. It should be fun. Love your body. Connect with your partner. Communicate during sex. I tell hubby exactly what I want and need. Tell him if you want a finger in your ass. Don’t be shy. Your partner isn’t a mind reader.

Now go forwards and f*ck your brains out.