The following is a list of all entries from the Sexy good times. category.
Don’t get too excited kids. This isn’t nearly as raunchy as the title suggests.
I’m on birth control. This little magical pill makes my world a better place. I don’t have to worry about unplanned pregnancy, my skin stays relatively clear and I always know when my period is going to be.
I’ve been a fan of the pill since I was 16 years old and have spent only two months off it since then*. I’m pretty good at taking the pill on time. Even if I forget a pill every now and again my doctor has assured me that I probably wouldn’t get pregnant seeing as I have 9 years worth of fake hormones in me.**
But every once in a while I really screw up. This week happened to be that week. I had run out of my prescription so I had to make an appointment with the doctor. And then I had to fill the prescription and then it was Easter I forgot to pick it up. But I wanted to stay on schedule.
So last night I took three pills. I should have read the little info sheet which would have told me to take two last night and two today, but I didn’t, I just took three at once.
Know what you aren’t supposed to do? Like ever? Take three pills in on go. It makes your hormones go out of whack.
Last night? I dreamt of babies (to some: a happy dream, to me: a nightmare) CJ woke me up twice for crying in my sleep.
This morning I stubbed my toe and burst into tears.
Then I got stuck in traffic and burst into tears.
Then I read a mean email and burst into tears.
Then I found out that Chi is coming for my wedding (she lives far away in a land of sun and sand) and I burst into tears.
I just burst into tears because someone ate my in case of emergency crème egg.
It took me until the crème egg to figure out my hormones may be a bit out of balance and perhaps I should question the rather out of character bursting into tears. I’m trying to not let it affect any more of my day but I just wrote three posts and scrapped them because they were about the ills of the world and people who have wronged me, starting with the first boy who ever broke my heart up to the person who ate my crème egg.
So this is what you get.
Sorry kids. I’ll do better next time.
*Those two months are recent and a topic for another day. Let’s just say that my religion is medical journals and that in my I still liked the smell of CJ after not being on birth control.
Ok, I knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with that. Here’s a link. Imagine what someone who is getting married very soon would do if they read this.
**I am not a doctor. I am not giving you medical advice. So don’t come to me if you miss a pill and get pregnant. I don’t recommend ever missing a pill. However, if you do… I hear the pull out method is not that bad.
But of course we’re all using condoms right? … yah, of course we are… none of us in monogamous relationships are having blatant unprotected sex. Nope. Not here. Look! A penny! Its shiny! Go look at that!
I always have claimed to be a low maintenance type of gal. On any given day I can be out of the house within 20 minutes of waking up. Even at night, getting ready to go out it usually takes me less time than my girlfriends to get ready. I’m just efficient.
As I’ve aged, I’ve noticed having to spend more time on myself than I used to. Creams are needed to keep dryness away; my hair just doesn’t fall into place after air drying; and throwing on any combination of clothing doesn’t always work, thought needs to be put into it.
Until last night, I would still claim to be fairly low maintenance for a girl of my age. Hardly taking any time to get myself ready…
…Until last night, when CJ hopped in the shower with me. He caught me mid-wash – meaning my hair was shampooed, my body soaped and my face cleansed. I still had to shave my legs, exfoliate, and deep condition. He mentioned something about making this a sexy shower – I motioned towards the shaving cream on my legs and told him after I shower. He quickly shampooed, soaped and rinsed and hopped out.
After I got out of the shower, I dried myself and went to the bedroom. CJ was already in bed and reading. He mentioned something about making bedtime sexy and I told him after I finished.
I then brushed out my hair, applied blow dry cream and blew it dry. Then I applied toner, face cream, eye cream, lip chap, deodorant, body lotion, foot lotion, hand lotion and cuticle lotion. I picked out what I was going to wear the next day and ironed it. Then I took my pills (multivitamin, birth control, allergy), my asthma puffers and crawled into bed. Ready to get sexy.
CJ was asleep.
Mildly insulted I looked at the clock – an hour had passed since he first hopped in the shower with me. I couldn’t blame him for falling asleep, he has a hard job and it would have been mighty boring waiting for me to finish. I thought of what steps I could cut out of my nightly routine… nothing came to mind.
I don’t think I can call myself low maintenance anymore.
You shouldn’t give a blowjob for Valentine’s Day.
(That sound you just heard? Was my three male readers snapping to attention and declaring me an enemy – give me a chance to explain boys, I promise you’ll like my message).
Listen ladies, I’m all for pleasing your man. In fact, most of your probably don’t go down on your boyfriend enough. You probably don’t have sex often enough either (how much is often enough? Think about how often you have sex – do you immediately make excuses for that number? – like “well we’ve both been really tired lately, we’re on different schedules” – if so, you aren’t having enough sex).
Since most of you aren’t having enough sex (or having really dull sex) when special occasions come around your other half dutifully presents you with flowers and then promptly expects you to get down on your knees. In my books there is nothing worse than this exchange. I/you should be getting presents because I/you are pretty, adorable and awesome. Not because there is a promise of sex attached to it. I don’t think there is anything wrong with having sex on Valentine’s Day I just don’t think you should be doing it because you feel obligated to do it.
Valentine’s Day was invented for those tired couples who don’t take enough time out for each other due to real obligations (otherwise known as ankle-biters). It’s a day for those people to reconnect and find time to have sex. For us young and obligation-free (childless) couples Valentine’s Day should be about ordering in greasy Chinese and having regular sex – in other words it should be like any other Sunday.
If the only time you two take time to have fantastic sex is during the high holy holidays of couples – you are doing it wrong. You should be having that type of sex at least once a month (if not more often). There should be no expectation of special occasion sex because you are having enough awesome sex that there is nothing special about it. I cry on the inside every time a girlfriend tells me that she has sex every Sunday afternoon and it’s always the same. I cry harder when it’s once a month, once every three months, once a year, never.
If the reason you’re not having sex is because it doesn’t rock your world then you need to do this really simple thing and talk to your boyfriend about it. You don’t like that tongue flicking thing he does when he kisses you? Say something along the lines of “I love kisses where you don’t flick your tongue into my mouth”. I know shockingly easy right? It’s really impressive how far honesty will take you to better sex (if you can’t have an honest conversation with your beloved that’s a whole ‘nother topic for a whole ‘nother day). I hate hearing the words “Everything is awesome but if he could just do X, it would be better”. You know what I do when I want CJ to do X? I bribe him. I tell him if he does X, I’ll do Y and then we’re both happy (yes life really is a giant math problem to me).
And men? You know how to fix this whole “not getting enough head” issue you are so fond of complaining about? You don’t need flowers – you just need to go down on her! (See X+Y=O)
So, stop saving the good stuff for once a year. Go home tonight and have a sexy good time. Then do it again next week and the week after that. Continue doing it until you can laugh when someone mentions have “special Valentine’s Day sex” because you are getting it all the time.