it figures. i have a great week and as soon as i glance at THAT site it goes downhill.by great week i won’t say that work wasn’t overwhelming and i wasn’t feeling like the world was crushing me in rapidly tube. because it was.
i also won’t say that rainbows flew out of arse and traffic played nice. that too would be a lie.
in this case a ‘great week’ can be described as my husband actually spending an overabundance of free time on me while visiting family out of state. without me. he didn’t (granted couldn’t) converse this much with me while in PA for training, MO for training or OR for other family, yet this week, even while surrounded with some of our closest and dearest family, he has. that’s huge. it’s sexy and gratifying and beautiful.
what do you do with beautiful things? i try and desecrate them by watch free video preview after free video preview of girls taking sadistic selfish pleasure out a giant battery powered mechanical devices and soddom and gomorrah-esque slave domination. then, while my kitten frolicks in the shades and my gazes at me with the chocolatey doey eyes i toss my head back and gratify myself.
he’s gone for four whole days and i can’t handle myself. like i’m a 14-year-old boy who thinks that constant masturbation versus self control is the solution to the answer. like a prison inmate, as a co-worker pointedly suggested today, that HAS to masterbate multiple times a day or ease the sexual tension immediately when it strikes or i won’t be able to control the rage and murder instincts.
all excuses. aren’t they like noses? everyone has one? two? 3,567?
i don’t know what that says about me. perhaps it explains the constant struggle to find my spiritual groove in this world. to find the path of balance between an active and satisfied sex life and a seemingly endless missionary and doggy style positions on our beat up bed for the umpteenth time. a balance of love and respect, independence and co-dependence, creativity and claustrophobia. breaking the long haired, long skirt, sunday school, cookie cutter wife church stereotype. loving god and being completely at ease with discussing sexuality with fellow christians without them gasping at the ::TABOO:: ginormous white elephant sitting in their lap.
if i have these struggles and i barely sucked up the balls to blog under a psudeonym what do other christian women do? the answers aren’t as simple as ‘every women’s struggle to not bite the head of the chocolate easter bunny.’ the majority of the books i’ve found tend to be about the pretty shiny ugly sin and not smelly, 3 month collection of dog feces collecting in an 8 foot by 8 foot fenced in back yard.
where have all the good writers gone?
rb
