How I Like My Sex

Several years ago a movie came out that changed my life… and, don’t laugh… that movie was The Runaway Bride with Julia Roberts.

I know, I know… it’s stupidly silly, dramatic, and overly corny but it had one really good point… that the female main character didn’t have any idea what she liked (to eat, to do, to watch) because she had never taken the time to figure it out, she’d always just gone along with what the people in her life told her she liked… especially the men.

And THIS is the story of my life.

But after watching this movie,  I realized that I, like Julia Roberts’ character, had no idea how I liked my eggs… or anything else for that matter… and that it was time for me to figure it out.

And, after this movie, things definitely changed.

Only a little bit at first… I tried every way I could possibly think of to eat eggs and I eventually figured out how I really like them (scrambled with cheese and hot sauce or over easy with toast for dipping, also with hot sauce)… and, although it’s taken me a few more years, I’ve come to realize that I should incorporate these same methods into figuring out how I like my sex as well.

So, here I am… moving past the days of sex being about whether or not the man I am with orgasms and into the days where it’s all about how much pleasure I can experience.

Now, don’t get me wrong, it is not all about me… I am GGG all the way… it’s just now I’m making sure that it’s at least partially about my pleasure as well.

Please wish me luck… and lots fun… because if I don’t take care of my own needs, who will!

You Don’t March for Life

“First of all, good for you. Raise your voices, express your concerns, gather, make signs, do your thing. I won’t call you names. I respect your right to do this, and I respect your conviction.

Second, be clear with your cause. You don’t march for life. You march for the birth of a fetus. Think about this: at what age does this life stop mattering to you? When it’s in the womb, you cry for it, you fight for it, you empathize with it, you march for it.

When it becomes 1 month old, you hope the mother supports it, feeds it, and nurtures it. But you don’t support the mother in this endeavor. You think she should “work hard,” “pull herself up by the bootstraps,” and get by on her $7.25/hr minimum wage job. You vote for those who block legislation to protect its mother from violence, from making the same wage as men, from getting basic healthcare, from getting food stamps and support to care for it.

When it becomes 6 years old, you hope there’s a public school around to teach it. But you vote for those who don’t want to fund public schools. You vote for those who believe our schools are “flushed with cash” yet somehow failing. The wealthier kids that live by it are able to go to different schools, but this fetus is stuck at the public school that is overcrowded, underfunded, and it falls behind in reading and math. You feel bad for it, but you don’t march for it. You mostly blame its single mother for not doing more to be involved in its schooling. “She should do homework with it. She should read to it more. Maybe she should get it a tutor.” But she is working two jobs and barely getting by.”

For the rest of the story, click below:

https://medium.com/@crh2/you-dont-march-for-life-321e1a0bb349#.8nruhmort

Get Over It

I’m really tired of hearing “Get over it”.

Yes, we elected a president. One that I never thought would make it. One that I thought was only running as a joke or to ensure Hillary’s election.

But it wasn’t just a bad joke.

And this is what you get when you elect someone who makes fun of someone who is disabled on national tv.

Now, I don’t know about you, but on top of everything else that I detest about this man, this is where I draw the line. And I’m not sure why more of you didn’t.

I suppose that making fun of disabled persons is moot for you.

I suppose that when your child becomes a bully that you will say “it’s just a phase” or “boys will be boys”.

I’m sad to say that it’s not a phase anymore. We now have a bully for a president which means that, well, now your kids are going to see our bully in charge and think it’s an acceptable way to behave.

And you making excuses about jobs or money or what-the-fuck other excuse you used to justify your vote for this man just drops my level of respect down to nothing for you.

I can’t get past it. And I won’t.

Our president is not a proper role model… for anyone.

And I’m going to keep pointing it out.

So… you get over it.