Thursday, October 16, 2014

Naked Dinner

Sometimes you have a picture in your head of how things will play out.  The picture in my head was me, naked, with pearls, heels and an apron.

Ah, to get there...

"H, can we have a date on Friday?  Please?"

Of course.  I'll take care of getting the kiddo to care.

"Great.  I'll take care of everything else."

I had read about a scotch and cigar dinner at a local brewpub that sounded great.  I was one second away from clicking on $80 tickets (each!) when I realized, I can buy a really nice bottle of scotch, some cigars and a lovely dinner of charcuterie for the same price.  And then I can put it all together in the kitchen.  Naked.  With pearls, heels and an apron.  :)

Friday morning I carefully dressed.  I wanted to feel sexy out and about all day, so that I could feel sexy undressed that night.  I put on the pearls with a tank dress and heels.  I dressed so that I could undress later.

And of course, my day went to shit.  I got behind at work and was stressing making it to all my stops.  Somewhere along the way, I passed a liquor store where I was able to get the scotch and cigars, but that was all I accomplished before the end of the day.

"I will meet you at home.  Can you take the kiddo to his care?"

Okay... see you there.

I rushed to the New Seasons to find the perfect meats, cheeses and wines, while my plan of standing in the kitchen, already unclothed, when H arrived back dissipated from my vision.  I arrived home stressed to find H, looking smart in a button up shirt and snazzy shoes, waiting in the driveway.

You went shopping?  Aren't we having date night?  By the way, you look nice.

"Thank you."  I bit it out - I didn't dress for him.  I dressed for me.  Which is actually for him, but you know, I dressed to undress... "Yes, I shopped.  We're staying in."

I excused myself, grabbing the apron as I headed back to our room.  I quickly undressed, tied on my apron and wandered back out.  Okay, so I wasn't there already when he arrived back home, but now, I was in "uniform".

I proceeded to the kitchen, where I started arranging the charcuterie and I told H my plan - a scotch and cigar dinner in, instead of out.  He folded in and before long, we were seated at the table (me on a towel in an apron, heels and pearls) having a lovely conversation as we sampled our meats and cheeses with our wine and scotch.

Ultimately, we went out to the (fenced in, covered) porch for a cigar... and as the rich meats, cheeses, wines and cigars went to my head, I invited him to the bedroom...

You see, it was a naked dinner.  Almost exactly as I planned.

Saturday, October 11, 2014

When I Read Your Words

I was texting with a friend about a misunderstanding, and she said, "Well, other people always look for themselves in one's feelings."

This brought me up short.  It is so true and yet, I had never thought about it.

And it is worth thinking about.  I don't think I am alone in the experience of spending a fair amount of time on a post - on really trying to write something that helps me make sense of a problem or a scene or a feeling.  And, if the stars are aligned, I might have a breakthrough and really achieve a great moment in my thoughts.  Then I put it out there, excited to share my breakthrough and randomly that day, people will comment on the new car that was mentioned.

Wow - a new car - do you love it?
What did you get?  I need a car.  It's been so long.
Yeah, submission yada yada yada - is the new car red?

I'm not saying that I don't appreciate or love comments, I do.  I'm just saying that sometimes, I am excited to see what people will say about my breakthrough and nada, nothing, no go.  And in the past, I thought that if the comments were not on the core of the post, that I somehow failed to make my point.  Or was too wordy or that I did something wrong.  And I would get a little down about it, because I was so excited for the input and conversation.

It seems silly that I have to realize this, but I'm thinking that those thoughts were faulty.  I may very well have had a breakthrough and made my point.  But we are all reading the words of others looking for ourselves.  We are taking other's feelings and trying them on to see how they fit us.  And while I may be having a breakthrough, you may be thinking you need a new car.  (This is not a real example.)  So there was really no problem here.  Just a little disappointment and perhaps a timing issue.  Yes, I blog for me and for H, but I also blog to share with others and sometimes I am just not in sync.

Likewise, I am sure I have left comments on posts that did not speak to the blogger's heart or point.  I may have been wrapped up in trying to find a good lotion for a sore bum and totally missed the rest of the experience.  This is a sort of sweet awkwardness that I am describing, but I think it might be an analogy for misunderstandings that are much more significant.  Everyone knows it is difficult to convey tone through electronic media and I am now thinking it is difficult to gauge reader mindset as well.  It might be helpful for me to remember this one little thing...

When I read your words, I look for myself.

Friday, October 3, 2014

CU Next Tuesday

I confess that I am a fan of Sex and the City.  And I relate to its brilliance much differently in my late 30s than I did in my 20s.  Now I can see some of the ways they were able to take me in (and some of the ways they totally screwed me up).  I have recently been ruminating on how this show introduced the word cunt.  How they used the most proper character of all, Charlotte.  Charlotte had something to say and it seemed that cunt was the only word that could properly say it.  Since Charlotte wouldn't say that word, she instead said "in your CU Next Tuesday."  The girls stared back at her, confused; until she used her finger to spell it C. U. N.ext T.uesday.

Germaine Greer is quoted as saying that "one of the few remaining words in the English language with a genuine power to shock" is one of the C words.  When I started this blog I had problems with both C words, but I very quickly mastered the use and enjoyment of cock.  Cock, cock, cock.  See.  No problem saying it whatsoever.

Actually, the other day I was kind of laughing at myself as I wondered if I could write a single post lately without saying it.  I might be too comfortable with that word.  And by too comfortable, I am probably forgetting that others may not be so fond of it and I may be more scandalous than I intend with my word choice.

Also, when things are shocking, they have power.  And when they become commonplace, that power is lost.  And then what do you do when you wish to shock?

I guess I move on to the next word.  Which would be cunt.

H and I were discussing how much it bothers me that I have not yet been able to own that word.  He suggested I do a post and feature the definition.  Well, I looked it up in Wikipedia and the entry was all about how the word is used (abusively and disparagingly), but not what it actually describes.  What is the cunt, I wondered?  H and I each had a different picture of what the word was actually describing.  He thinks it is synonymous with vagina, but I think it describes so much more.  It is the whole of the woman.  It describes the anatomy - the clit, the pussy / vagina and the ass, but also the essence behind the anatomy - all that is beautiful, bold, messy and emotional.

The CUNT is audacious.

I want this word.  For myself.

I want to use it when I mean it.  I have deleted it from a thousand thoughts over the years because its power to shock was not what I meant and because I literally couldn't bring myself to say it.  I have cringed and still cringe when it comes to mind.  But it has come to my mind.  Many many times.

And the word is what it should be - objectifying, humiliating and obscene.  There are moments that this best describes.  When no other word will do.