Lust, levity and the pursuit of happiness

Okay. I have been working on the “Sex" post for this blog for a while only to discover that my computer ate it and now I am stuck with an empty slate but now thanks to a little bit of “Moxi” I decided to retackle  the challenge and write about the strangeness that happens to be life. I am an awkward human being, I am self-realized but totally awkward. I keep wondering where people get the idea that I am a sexual human being. I mean I am but that I don’t advertise it. Thoughts anyone?

Anyway, most recently I’ve been my life anew. A single, tragic life but it’s mine. I moved into a renovated 1930’s building and live in this happy go lucky apartment. It has huge ceiling and giant windows that look over the tiny town I live over. So every so often the landlord does a walk through. She is one of the sweetest people I know! Kind, caring and intelligent. I think the absolute world of her. I had spent the entire day making sure everything looked groovy and settled in to finish my laundry. We happened to be talking and she asked if she could do the walk through early. It seeeemed like a good idea.  When she got to my bedroom she exited my apartment saying everything looked good.

I really didn’t think anything of it. I really didn’t. 

I finish up with my laundry and walked into my bedroom only see the stark contrast of my midnight blue vibrator against the white cotton of my blanket. How was I supposed to fix this? Do I go and apologize? Do I pretend it didn’t happen or do I say at least it’s safe sex? Okay, I decide that maybe the best words were none at all. I also decided that hiding my vibrator somewhere different. I thought it would be in my best interests to keep my sex toys and etcetera out of public view. But what did I care, I lived alone. Any self kinkery I wanted to do I was more than able to.  Still safe sex right?

My sister says I have a magic vag,”Seriously, what the hell is so different with yours that guys go so bonkers over?” She had a point with that one; I did have a strange amount of stalkers.  Even alone, it was a strange amount. Who cares, actually I do. Quit. Stealing. My. Underwear.  SERIOUSLY.

Thankfully I have my handy dandy friend who shared mutual sexual prowess for life. One of those rare people you can shoot the shit without feeling weird out about it. She recently lent me a few books that were totally awesome. The first “203 ways to please your lover” and “The fine art of erotic talk” both awesome and equally balls out funny. I picked out quotes and spread them across my kitchen desk with labels. I knew what I was going to write about and what I was going to avoid. This was going to be the best blog ever!!!

Recently, a pipe burst in our building and after much clearing of drop ceiling rubble; rotor rooter was necessary.  They prescribed an enzyme that had to be dumped in our drains.

 The landlord’s husband and amazingly attractive son knocked on the door. We were shooting the shit and they laughed and couldn’t stop smiling. I’m funny, I thought.  When they left to the next apartment they were in and out before I could close my door.  As the door closed I noticed I had a pair of handcuffs dangling off my entryway closet door handle. Fuck. I walked into the kitchen to find notes. Double fuck. I went to my bedroom. At least my vibrator wasn’t out.