Saturday, February 15, 2014

Quote of the day...

"I could never be a whore."

I said this to Bill as we were waking up.  I was surfing the 'net on my iPad and happened to read a post on RfM  written by a woman who felt like a slut because she kissed some guy after a date.  The woman said she had fun on the date, but wasn't attracted to the guy.  When he kissed her, she was repulsed.  I don't know if she didn't like the guy himself or the kissing.  However, when she wrote that the date was "a blast", it made me wonder if it was the kiss that turned her off.

Full disclosure here.  I do not enjoy kissing.  I mean, I don't mind a dry kiss, but I am seriously grossed out by swapping spit.  The first time I ever kissed someone, I was twelve.  It was after a school dance and it was a guy who was my boyfriend for maybe a week or two.  He stuck his tongue in my mouth, and I was really revolted.  Of course we broke up not long afterwards.  ;-)

Other times I have kissed guys… and I have never enjoyed the experience.  The sensation of someone else's tongue, the taste of someone else's saliva, the potential for either person to have bad breath, my hatred of chapped lips, and the fact that I have a really sensitive nose and gag reflex makes me not want to go there.  I don't even kiss Bill that way and never have, not even on our wedding day.  Fortunately, Bill and I have chemistry and it doesn't matter that we don't French kiss each other.

No tongue here...

So anyway, Bill and I were lying in bed and I was telling him about this lady's dilemma.  I said I could never be a whore.  Bill laughed.

Yesterday, we didn't end up doing anything, because Bill had called the property managers to get them to send someone to look at the ceiling.  He did this after receiving several emails from them indicating that they were trying to reach him.  He called several times to set up an appointment, but the woman who had been so damn insistent about getting ahold of him never answered her phone.  We waited around all day.

I know I've mentioned it before, but I hate the property managers.  I look forward to moving out of this house and not having to deal with these asshats anymore.  They are beyond unprofessional.

Bill had ordered roses, but they didn't get to me until 8:00pm.  They are beautiful.  Bill also gave me chocolates and a mushy card… and he fixed me Eggs Benedict for breakfast.  I got myself a keeper, that's for sure!  So Valentine's Day was pleasant enough.

Today, we'll probably try to do something fun.  The fridge of sin needs restocking.


  1. Beautiful roses and lovely table setting!

    I don't like your property managers and I've never met them.

    I've never really gotten too much into the spit-swapping fetish, either. If any of my stalker relatives have followed me here, no, it does NOT mean I'm gay, not that there would be anything wrong with it if I were.

    1. Thanks! Yeah, we still have a poinsettia from Christmas. I can't bring myself to toss it out.

      The property managers are a waste of oxygen. They don't do anything but take our money. Can't wait to be done with them.

  2. I'm not yet sure, by the way, whether or not I could ever be a whore. Probably not but maybe.

    1. For a non-Mormon, I am ridiculously conservative about sex. Odd, considering where Bill and I met.


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