Officially, Intermittent

I did *try* to write every day. And mostly, I did actually write at least something. And then was felled at the knees by lack of internet, lack of privacy, and much mental time occupied by being The Boss.

So yeah. This is now an intermittent blog. I can't keep letting you down, Gentle Readers, by saying I'm going to do something and then not doing it. So when I do, I'll make it as good as I can. And I'll also not kill myself by saying, oh, don't post that until it's perfect, because that way inaction lies.

Where am I now? In a secret location (let's note that it's a major honeymoon destination), shacked up with the Ex. I know. Dumb, dumb Mandy. So far there's only been minor shortness of breath. And really, who knows? The part of me that says, hmmmm, you're* kind of self-involved and a little bit boring and really, the sex had been going downhill, is strongly considering making this a last hurrah. The part of me that thinks, hey, never know when you'll be hit by a bus, would rather not end without closure. I'm working on having Part A strangle Part B but then the thought of choking just turns me on.

Where will I be Thursday? Possibly in a Midwestern City with Big City Lover. We're texting it out.

Where will I be the first weekend in June? With Fucked-Up Guy, plotting and planning to give my team-members and his fiancee the slip so we can shag intensely and silently in shared lodging.

Where will I be all year? Why, on the road, of course. That big beautiful pond full of fish, maybe one of whom will touch the thing in me that needs it beyond my control...

* * *

Quote of the week: "I never learned in health class that wiping front to back thing, and that's why I got a gall bladder infection that almost killed me..."

Words to live by.

* * *

*note intentionally ambiguous pronoun

Bits and Pieces

Gentle Readers - I am so darn cold...I'm in a geographical location right now that just involves being cold all the time, and it's sapping my will to live. I swear I'm trying to write, but between the cold and the cold and the worrying about gaining weight and the cold and the working 15 hours a day and the being around other people and the cold, it's been challenging. Until such time as I pop out something better, I hope you will enjoy this. Just keep hitting "random"...

* * *

...I'm working with a member of a local team who is 100% Survivor Called, They Want Their Fan Back. He has long straight hair with poufy bangs, tight jeans, and wears a lot of vests. He has become less openly skeeve-y since the last time I worked with him, now appearing merely socially inept and wanting to play a flirting game he hasn't properly learned rather than oozing slime over every woman he meets. As I think this, while executing some work tasks with him, my hand brushes his and I realize, shit. If I was sixteen/fifteen/fourteen, I would have dated you. And not the you at that age, the you now. We'd have made out in your backseat, you'd have picked me up on your motorcycle when I cut Gym, it would have been you coming over when I was babysitting, asking if you could "just see if it fits." Sobering...

* * *

...due to some wacky phone zone issues, I'm not able to call ex-Lover. And work has been busy enough to keep me from texting much, or emailing at all. Which is a lie. If I wanted to badly enough, I'd make it happen, just like always, slide into the bathroom, the closet, get five minutes alone however I could. But there's a new stage happening, sliding up on me like a Prague pickpocket. The footsteps get closer, closer, why doesn't this guy pass me? The sidewalk's plenty - oh! and then I check my bag, change purse, postcards, pens, notebook, camera, what's missing is trust.

Things That We Have Carried Here

(beautiful muffins from Foodbeam, where the recipe also lives)

Sunday morning, lazy Sunday, and Husband and I have brunch at a local foodie place. We nibble muffin samples, I observe the price of cheese, and we sit at the breakfast bar to miss some of the wait. A happy hippie artist sits down next to me (Later, “Well, yeah, I have a name, that my parents gave me, but I just think names are so limiting so I don’t really use it.” I think, you’ll have to use it if you want to apply for that grant I just told you about for your sustainable housing project, Rainbow.

When he first sits down, though, he smiles big and says, “Is your bag over here so far so I can look in it?”

“Sure is,” I say and push it towards him on the counter.

“It’s open, that must mean you’re a very open person.” But he bails out before actually poking around. I wouldn’t have minded, but the gesture was really to see how big his balls were. I poke through his sketchbook, he’s pretty good with pen and ink in an anime/Banksy way, but my slouchy just-big-enough bag remains inviolate.

And for you, Gentle Reader – a list.

ipod (red), earbuds, itrip, charging cord
Dark chocolate raspberry lemon biscotti bar, ¼ eaten by Power Girl and I on the way to see Folk Rocker in Midwestern City
Purse pack of Kleenex
Smart phone, which has to go into the case the same way every time or it turns itself on and then it’s dead when I need it.
Camera (digital) in case, camera a present to me from me, case a present from Husband
Brown kraft notebook with red spine, for ideas relating to a specific project
Blue and green spiral notebook for writing ideas
Pink Japanese notebook that I’m trying out to see if it’s the right size to carry around in Europe next month (it’s not, sadly)
Card from Be-My-Real-Friend, with notes for a contract on the envelope
Pen from a city I visited in Austria
Utility pen
2 passports
Receipt for the Mac
Contract to be faxed when I get to it
Corner of a condom wrapper that fell into my purse during a visit with Big City Lover and can’t be thrown away at home
Black Swiss Army pouch with chapstick, ibprofen, gum, enough hair ties to do pigtails, flash drive, token from Sex Addicts Anonymous (one day), lipstick in a color called Stained that I shoplifted from a not-as-good-as-Sephora cosmetics place in Atlanta, pin of Southern City’s crest and accompanying card thanking me for service to said city, vitamins, 2-inch origami paper and set of small folded sheets of paper for a conversation game called Oracle that I made up.
Wallet (black leather outside, hot pink silk inside, lately I’ve started liking pink which is a first, don’t worry, I’ll never buy underwear in pink) with ID, bank cards for two countries, debit card, ancient student ID (still works at the movies!), AAA card, Barnes and Noble gift card from Power Girl, business cards, frequent bagel, coffee, taco and smoothie cards and $268 in bills only.

What does your hippie-spider-sense tell you?

Catching Up

I've been buried in a huge work project this week, Gentle Readers, and I beg your indulgence...I'm also sick as a dog and waiting for it to pass. And while I know there's nothing sexier than snot sculpture in the morning and a hacking cough before bed, there's just not much happening around here, adventure-wise.

I will say that recently I have:

...decided that life is too short and forgiven ex-Lover (more later) while being somewhat mystified by where the new boundaries are...

...had many deep and lovely conversations with Beautiful Girl...

...attended another Meet-and-Greet where I still felt like meat but not nearly so much, and the quality of the conversation was much better...

...pondered how while I feel tremendously slutty, I have not actually managed to have any sex in several weeks, and in fact was totting up and realized that other than clients (who just don't count) I have only had four partners this year. I must be slipping.

I'll don my thinking cap tomorrow and see what I can devise for your amusement.

Well, Hey... Plus, Coffee?

Just realized, after going to sleep weeping, waking up weeping, and weeping all over Husband in the kitchen, that perhaps some of this is due to coming to the end of the tiny blue pills...PMS doesn't usually get me this bad, but there are extenuating circumstances, and it's the first really cold, dark week here in Midwestern State, too. So, Gentle Readers, I promise you five more posts before the next traumatic and bitter one. Maybe I'll even get lucky and get on a roll.

Also - I will be in the lovely and damn cold city of Toronto this weekend - if you'd like to meet up for coffee Saturday or Sunday, drop me a line.

And since a number of you have asked, "HNT" is "Half-Nekkid Thursday". Sponsored at Osbasso's blog, about a hundred people each week post nifty half-nekkid pics of themselves and their loved ones - some of them are porn, some are art, many are amazingly creative. If that's what you've dropped by for, scroll down to the next post and there I am. I've always loved the thing Lewis Grizzard said about the meaning of "nekkid": "'Naked', that means, 'Got no clothes on.' 'Nekkid' means 'Got no clothes on and up to somethin'".

Bits and Pieces

Today’s Bits and Pieces brought to you by “Writing Because I Can’t Breathe When I See Her Name, Thank God for Friend Delete.”

…Just saw a locally-made-video-commercial for a strip bar, with a lady in evening dress dancing on a stage for a group of businessmen who are earnestly conferring over the paperwork on their table. She finishes and they all look up and clap appreciatively. Of course, the local beer-and-pussy bar is where I have all *my* business lunches…


...A friend asked, a few weeks ago, if I could give him some guidance on finding a girl, natural redhead, breasts like melons, creamy skin, professional. I'm just now wondering if there was a hint in there. (It's not natural, they're more like small grapefruits, I'm not that pale)...

…Still collecting names/pseudonyms and mailing addresses/secret drop locations for the Mix CD present to Gentle Readers. Note that you do not have to have been a longtime reader or a longtime commenter or even resident in North America to claim yours! As my sister-in-law said when I asked if my mother had pressured her to have me as a bridesmaid when she barely knew me, “Later, we’ll know each other better, and then we’ll be glad we did.” Could be widely-applicable advice, don’t you think?...

…I’ve finally found a legit reason to despise Cute Girl. OK, OK, I hear you all. The relationship overlap was neither her choice nor her fault. BUT (and it’s a big but), it was indeed her choice to hear my anguish from my mouth, and then 48 hours later spread her fun new thing all over Facebook and Myspace and LiveJournal where she knew I’d see it and be hurt by it. So, Cute Girl, props to you for pissing on him to establish ownership as soon as you could, because it certainly was touch and go and now he’ll be embarrassed to back out any time soon, and fuck you, I no longer have to pretend I still think you're cool. Incidentally, when you’ve broken up (and you will), I’ll be telling you exactly what ex-Lover's wager was in the pool your acquaintances have started about how long this will last. We’re all the betting type…

Update

I managed to stay off the internet all weekend, with the help of Power Girl, expensive cheapskate hotel (why is it that the Super 8 can give me free internet and not the Hilton? I know, I know, most people expense it so they can. I still hate it), and a fun city to be in. But I did write in my notebook the whole time, so stories to come, Gentle Readers...

Bits and Pieces

...I've just been interviewed by my lovely namesake Mandy Hardy, over at Sexy Blog Reviews. If you'd like to check it out (and see a fun picture that hasn't been posted here) it's here...

...San Francisco is lovely - a bit dark early for my taste, but the architecture is like nothing I've ever seen before and the activities I'm here for are challenging and fun. I'm debating whether a one night stand with some cute local boy might cure the last of my broken heart...

...I text Tourist that I'm thinking of him. He texts back, "What made you think of me?" Since "I thought of another client and that made me remember you, too, since I'll be in your state soon and I'd like to score an appointment with you, O deep-pocketed-but-boring-one," is not really the best answer, I respond with "I saw some super-high sexy heels in a shop window!" He texts back, "can i see a pic?" Fortunately, I took a photo of some shoes a few weeks ago for the boy-who-was-Lover's approval...

OK...

...we're gonna try for daily again. Or at least several times a week. It's a cheat, but here are some recommendations of things I've read lately.

Compartments is back! With a new focus (she's assembling a book) and some new stories. Always a little on the dark side, she's not shying away from the unpleasant bits, just as before. I know a lot of Gentle Readers found me through her list of Prostitution Blogs Worth Reading. That page has been updated, so maybe there's someone new you'd like to discover?

This week there is a rather intense story, The Wounded, at The Provocateur, which resonated a lot with me. I'm not kidding about intense.

I'm not normally a video porn girl, but Tom Paine's got a fun, fun short clip of cowgirl that is really sexy. Very NSFW.

Enjoy, and see you tomorrow...

(Cool calendar from a group of artists honoring the work of filmmaker Wong Kar-Wai.)

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Being Broken-Up

…It’s true what they say – eat less and exercise! I’ve only been on the Break-Up Diet for four days and the pounds are melting away! Follow the simple, three-step plan of food that tastes like cardboard, long city walks alone through the streets you once shared, and just plain ol’ not remembering to eat, and you, too, can lose five pounds in four days. He-llooooo, cheekbones!

…Why not take this time to reconnect with other loved ones? Four years is finally enough distance to phone Writer, the long-term boy prior to this one, and give best wishes to him and his lovely post-me wife! And when I’m in need of human contact at Oh-God-Thirty in the morning so that I won’t dial Lover’s number that one more time that mentally dons rappelling gear atop the Cliffs of Insanity, it reminds me that Secret Scientist is just finishing his Starbucks run and ready for my call. Thanks, friends!

…How about taking up a new hobby in your now-copious free time? Drive to a distant city and explore documentary photography at 3AM in the Meatpacking District! Jog moonlit paths in Central Park! And hey, did anyone say “post more often to your damn blog, you lazy bitch?”

…Learn more about grammar by replaying all your recent conversations in your head and analyzing the exact degree of offended, bitter, jealous or lonely you should be! By listening carefully to old voice mails, timing phone calls for when you’re sure he’s out with that adorable ‘other woman’, and reading old love letters stained with his semen, you can derive hours of misery from just a few pages of material!

…If you’re having trouble staying with the plan, try enlisting a buddy to be your coach! Ask them to make you a CD of “bestrongstaybrokenup songs”, or call them every time you feel the urge to dial your ex's number. Whenever my phone rings, Power Girl takes it firmly away from me and tells me not to answer or she’ll rip my fingers off – she’s such a tease! Eventually, she’s going to find me texting in the closet, but for now, Gentle Readers, that’s our little secret…

(he still wants to be friends)

Bits and Pieces

…Here’s how I know I am not jaded beyond repair. Power Girl and I spend the night in a Ritz-Carlton, and the first fifteen minutes is just us squealing over the toiletries. “Oooh! Shower gel!” “Look, the blow dryer has it’s own little bag!” “The bathroom is huge! You take a shower and I’ll take a bath at the same time! ”…

…Driving in a new city, where things are a bit more aggressive. My friend says, “Remember, when you change lanes, your blinker is not asking permission, it’s signaling intent.” It works…

…At a get-reacquainted lunch with Be-My-Real-Friend, he indicates that he’d like to make an appointment, and to that end, would like to give me a deposit. I, still unsure if I still even want to be doing this whoring thing, ask if he wants to put the money on the prepaid Visa he got me. He whips out cash. I think, gee, you’re awfully certain, and then realize umm, Mandy? You are a sure thing. That’s what being a whore is…

Today I Am...

1) Crushing hard on a Kiwi who plays the ukelele.

2) Bitter that I'm not better at my job.

3) In another time zone.

4) Out of love.

5) Totally thwarted in #1.

6) Wearing a totally ridiculous outfit...

7) ...that I am paid to wear.

8) (Not like that)

9) Alternately loving and hating my hair.

10) On the edge of tears.

11) Behind on a big project.

12) Transported by said Kiwi playing "Sweet Child Of Mine" on said ukelele

13) (Including the guitar riff)

14) to another girl.

15) (Context is important)

16) Contemplating starting a Facebook.

17) Definitely out of love

18) and calling on Beautiful Girl

19) to help me stick to #17.

20) Because if he puts his hand on the back of my neck, it's all over.

21) Craving Thai salad rolls

22) which will be made for me by a tiny Laotian woman

23) whom I think understands how much I love them.

Bits and Pieces

...At Walmart, the cashier examines a box belonging (upon payment) to the young half-Asian man in front of me. “What is this?” she asks. He spends the next five minutes explaining, with my help, what couscous is and how one eats it. At least she’s curious enough to ask. I find it more astonishing that one can now purchase couscous in a box at Walmart...

...At a gas station, filled with bikers on their way to a rally – a lady in chaps and a black leather bikini with studs unconcernedly chats on her cell while male bikers snap her picture from behind. The fellow on the other side of the gas pump island is so riveted he overfills his tank, gas streaming down the sides of his new vintage-look Harley. Finally the shouts of the people at the other pump alert him. The puddle is four feet across. I pray no-one lights up a smoke...

...I recommend the video for Pink’s latest, U+URHand. I adore how it celebrates girls, role-playing and dressing up. When I was a dancer, I would have (perversely) used it as a song every set (I knew it was time to stop dancing when I kept using Phil Collins’ “I Don’t Care Anymore”)...

...I missed two days of posting (but not writing) due to two all-night drives (they don't have wireless at Customs), but I needed to get this one up, because I read my favorite blogs by clicking over from my links list, and I like to do this while in bed with Husband. (Open Relationship=Mostly OK; Rubbing His Nose In It=Not Cool). So I need to get the photos of me SUCKING SOMEONE ELSE’S COCK off the front page...

Ahhh...a Meme...The Lazy Writer's Friend

I’ve been tagged by the Dark and Lovely Nia! I haven’t done a meme before, I don’t think, but I’m pleased to have an excuse to sit and write between a long work day and one more work obligation (that I’m looking forward to) before bed and catching up on sleep, oh my god I can’t wait to sleep more than four hours tonight…

Seven Random Things

1)It makes me very uncomfortable if the waitress doesn’t like my table. I hatehatehate it when, for some reason, we’re not “good” customers for her (and it’s always a her), because I don’t ever tip less than fifteen percent unless the service was bad enough to speak to the manager about, and I prefer twenty. So when the service is timely but attitudinal, my nature is in conflict, which is probably bad for my digestion. I also wish I could wear a little sign that says “I know I’m a single person with a book taking up your table. I plan to compensate you for that. Now stop giving me attitude.”

2)When I lie about being late or absent, I choose my reasons very carefully because I worry that it will really come true to punish me for lying. (Nothing like a compassionate God, eh?)

3)There are people who have words I wrote tattooed on their bodies. I find this both thrilling and deeply humbling. It’s a lot to measure up to.

4)I dislike all dogs except pugs, which I think are actually cats in dog suits.

5)My dad used to tell me, “You know, there are people who have never been in the newspaper or on TV.” This was totally bizarre to my ten-year-old self, since I was in the press in one form or another about five times a year as a kid, both incidentally and for achievements.

6)My regular job requires me to be pleasantly nice to lots of strangers, often at times I wish were personal and off the clock. Whoring requires me to be exceptionally nice to people with whom I might not otherwise spend time at all. I love writing because I get to say exactly what I think in the way I want to say it. Or possibly completely lie about what I think and have people believe it anyway. Yay writing!

7)Nobody knows that the reason I’m aloof at social gatherings is that I’m actually terribly shy in groups. As a young woman, this manifested itself as inappropriate comments and desparately not-funny jokes. As an adult, I'm better, but after about an hour, I really have to spend a long time in the bathroom before I can face the mayhem again. I think people suspect I’m a snob with constipation.

Bits and Pieces

...At a business meeting, an attorney tells me his one case that made news, two children killed when a driver hit the back of the tractor they were riding. “The fact that my client was intoxicated when he hit them was not relevant,” he earnestly volunteers. “It was a rainy night, the road curved, and the tractor did not have rear reflectors. The tractor driver and his wife later divorced, one of the children was theirs and I think they couldn’t handle being at fault.” I think, there's not enough money in the world...

...I write in a word document and then copy-paste to the blog. I’ve decided that when I’m at 100 pages I will start looking for literary representation to make this sucker (or the content thereof) a book. 78 single-spaced and counting...

...One way to tell if you would whore – how much could you charge? Check out the Provider Price Predictor, which will weight your age, sex, looks and personality to advise you on a fair rate in your area and across America! Get a friend to help you rate yourself, it's a great way to acquire some hurt feelings! Is my face really a 6 or is Power Girl just working from a different generational reference? (It's best you not answer that, Gentle Readers)...

Miscellany (real post later tonight)

- Yes, I, too, totally freak out when seeing my real name on the Amazon Honor Box on someone else's blog. Do Not Panic - only you, when you are actually viewing the page, see the real name. For more info, click the bit that says "How do you know my name?" at the bottom of the box. Now start breathing again. Holler if you need CPR...

- Should I put an email link on this blog? On one hand, I've had a few people contact me and ask to email a comment that they want to share but not post publicly, and I've enjoyed some great conversations that way. On the other hand, will I be deluged with spam and hate mail?

- On another note, I joined the Top Five Group Writing Project for a lark, but now I'm genuinely enjoying looking at (gasp) blogs that don't talk about sex! At all! Not even a little bit! Like Gillette said, it's a window on a whole 'nother world.

- The world is especially beautiful today. My tulips are blooming, the sun is shining but not too hot, and Secret Scientist just called me to talk for a long time for no reason at all...

- I'm having a fun time with the labels function on here. Sometimes they are significant...

Bits and Pieces

...Sitting at the Metro waiting for Computer Whiz to pick me up. Little white PT Cruiser pulls up, two white girls with heavy makeup and heavy breasts, waiting in the pickup lane. Five or six minutes later, a blue sedan pulls up next to them. Two young black men inside, thumpy-thumpy music. The passenger in the sedan reaches out of his window, passes a roll of cash to the girl driving the PT. She briefly inspects it, says something, and the men drive off. The PT drives off. Guess I'm not the only one in town on a secret mission...

..Power Girl and I invite Secret Scientist over for guacamole and hanging out. He kisses me while she’s in the shower. We watch Discovery and mock the Jeff Corwin Experience. I walk Secret Scientist out to his car and tell him I love flirting with him, but don’t let me infringe on his life. He doesn’t have a problem with kissing me some more. Or letting me touch his cock through his pants...

...Hairline Boy has continued to give me sparkly eyes, and I learn through sources that he, too, has a girlfriend. I no longer feel guilty for not liking him back. However, he is deeply sweet. When he hugs me hard I say, "Are you having a Jimmy Carter moment?" He looks puzzled. I say, "I hay-ave committed aduhltery in mah heart many taimes." Recognition dawns. Later, another hug. "Jimmy Carter moment?" "Jimmy Carter moment."

Bits and Pieces

…Not to be snarky, but has anyone else felt that Belle de Jour, mother of us all, has lately become both annoyingly, pretentiously cryptic and just the wee-est bit, well, boring? As a fellow sex blogger, I worry about continuing to generate good stories...

…Folk Rocker has gotten back in touch, announcing that he’s golfing in Retiree State with 12 other guys, he’d rather be home with a good book, and isn’t it my turn to send dirty pictures? We’ve exchanged already, the first time he’d ever taken a naked picture of himself, let alone sent one to anyone, and it’s both charming and frustrating to see him half-pictured in a mirror, his hand coyly on his uncut cock. I’m ok with sending him more, but I want something in return – perhaps his fantasies, written out. I’m enlisting Power Girl to click the shutter and will share some of the results with you, Gentle Readers…

…Here’s why I’m a female chauvinist pig: I meet yet more musicians and my first thought is, “fresh meat.” (My second is, “Hope they don’t suck or I’ll have to stop liking them.”) Here’s why I’m a racist: I immediately rank them as “too much receding hairline,” “hot but too young and probably taken,” “guy I can’t really remember,” and “hot black guy, bingo, you’re mine.”…


("Titus Three" poster courtesy of Toxic Dreams)

Bits and Pieces

...I have traveled south to the land of God and good manners. I noticed through the night, as we got closer to our destination, the Christian radio stations became much more prevalent, and I was able to tell them faster - it didn't even take a God lyric to catch Christian rock. Then I realized that Christian artists have much better diction and you can make out every word, which is why the music instantly sounds different than "mainstream" music. When you've got a message, get it out...

...also heard on the radio: "Don't miss next Saturday's Pregnant Bikini Contest for all you MILFs-to-be! Win some cash and show off that beautiful bump before it becomes a bouncing ball and chain!" There was more. There was a lot more. I don't know if I'm more amused or appalled - let's celebrate the human body in all its shapes and sizes! By getting drunk and choosing one girl as better than all the others based on audience catcalls and obscenities!...

...this month's Glamour boasts Kate Beckinsale on the cover and a tagline about the new beautiful body, "strong, healthy and real!" and announces in the table of contents that women from 90-230 pounds are in the article and real bodies throughout the magazine. In the article, there's a starlet, another starlet, the Urban Bush Women (thank God), one plus-size fashion model and Steffi Graf. The plus-size model might weigh 170 pounds if she's over 5'10", otherwise she's maybe a dress size 14. Throughout the magazine are the usual crop of lean, toned print models, and the skinny aliens shaped like coat hangers who populate the high-fashion ads. I'm serious about the coat hanger bit - couture is designed to be displayed on a woman who looks like a hanger...

...meanwhile, I continue to lie about my weight - so many women do, that if I claimed my true weight I'd sound like a giant cow, but in everyone's head, I *am* what a 135 pound woman looks like. However, after losing five pounds from being so sick, I then ate badly for two weeks and I'm starting to *feel* like a giant cow. Since several of my jobs involve being paid to be attractive, I'll be actively seeking additional physical activity this weekend...

Sorry, sorry, sorry

I am way behind this week on posting - I have a major "real life" work event happening Thursday, another one on Friday and I'm leaving town to work this weekend, so it's been hectic. I am working on a post that I hope to put up tomorrow (this morning - it's midnight now).

Know, Gentle Readers, that I am thinking of you.