Size doesn’t matter
Or does it?
I’ve always been attracted to big, tall men. In part I am sure because they make me feel like a petite, delicate female.
I also am not typically attracted to pretty boys. I prefer men with faces that hold my attention. They’re complex.
Looking at my history, I usually wind up with:
- No college education
- Strong jawline, though not necessarily a handsome face
So imagine my surprise at being attracted to Austin, a man with a beautiful face, 5’10” tall, and small-ish hands.
Not exactly my type, or so you’d think.
But he is a very good kisser (just read Kisses That Go Nowhere). And he has a jawline that could cut glass.
And he looks like this naked.
Yes, I am posting a pic of Austin in the buff, at least part of him.
Now you can see why my brain turns to total mush around him.
And you can also understand a little of my confusion over why he’s interested in me.
I’m neither petite nor delicate. When he stands next to me I’m almost his height. Doesn’t he want a tiny girl to make him feel big and masculine?
There is a possibility here…
Maybe size doesn’t matter. Maybe size is all in our heads. It’s what you do with what you were given that matters.
Maybe the biggest, strongest man is the one who internalizes his strength and doesn’t need the outside world to continually verify for him what he already knows.
The shortest man can still cast a very long shadow.
The boys got up to mega shenanigans and got busted by the ladies.
But first, the (short story) of a very relaxing weekend, bullet style:
- sleeping in
- water guns
- big dinners
- Uncle Donald’s famous ribs
- cinnamon whiskey (Fireball)
- pomegranate margaritas
- dirt bikes
- dogs (a feisty chihuahua named Sophie and a big goofball black lab named Louie)
- Scrabble (check out my tiles in the pic below, ha ha)
- sting-pong (a naked butts-up version of ping pong)
Yes, I even sexted on my vacation even though cell phone coverage was sporadic.
What do you want? I’m an addict, okay? I can’t quit cold turkey… though I did scale back.
I spent a lot of time with my nose buried in my cell phone sexting and playing Scrabble with friends (and losing miserable, I might add).
Meanwhile, my oldest son learned to ride his new dirt bike. And my youngest son played games and watched TV.
And all the boys took a trip to the canal to go swimming.
Fun and adventure!
The shenanigans started when the men decided to drink an entire bottle of cinnamon whiskey and go play outside. At midnight. On their dirt bikes. Waking the neighbors, no doubt.
When we went home on Sunday, it was all getting sorted out.
So here are some pics from the weekend:
The first thing you need to know about The Great Bull Race is that I didn’t do it alone. My friend Mark and my cousins Jennifer, Nick, and Travis did it with me.
Thank God, because my hands were shaking like a leaf before and after the run.
Imagine a couple hundred people lining a track about 1/4 mile long in 100+ degree heat and that approximates what the experience was like.
We all waited anxiously for the bulls to run. And run they did. They came barreling down the track in 3 waves of about 8 bulls.
We let the first wave of bulls and people run right by us. We ran with the second wave of bulls, captured on video by Mark:
In al honesty, I have to admit I freaked out a little when I got a bit too close to a big black bull. My, they are big with HUGE horns! I spent the next 10 seconds glued to th fence.
My cousin Jennifer ran with me. And she stayed with me the whole time. Even when I freaked out and she wanted to run. Never left my side. I love that girl <3
The whole experience lasted maybe 30 seconds. But what a wild, heart-pounding 30 seconds it was.
Would I do it again? Absolutely. It was a magnificent experience unlike any other I had, and I enjoyed myself immensely.
Being able to run with bulls was incredible. And being able to do it with friends and family made it even better. When I originally signed up, I thought I’d be doing the bull run all by myself.
What a lucky woman I am to have such good friends and family.
And now a photo collage of our day:
I opted to skip the Tomato Royale tomato fight. It was a super hot day and I’ve already thrown rotten tomatoes before in a tomato throwing festival so I asked Mark if we could opt out and he agreed. Jennifer did it with Travis and Nick. Here’s a glorious shot of her, post tomato fling….
I want to blog about it so that I can record every last detail. And I don’t want to blog it so that it will only live on privately in the memories of Austin and myself. So I will blog a little, but let the details remain in my and Austin’s memories.
We had drinks at a local watering hole and shared some fish tacos. It was a hot day and I was feeling dehydrated and a little headachy. I needed to hydrate and relax. So we retired to Austin’s place.
It was cool and relaxing at Austin’s place. I found myself lounging on his couch, chatting with him. He asked it I thought he was leading me on. I told him I just like to think of us as friends. That I let go of my expectations with him.
He liked that answer and reminded me that we’re “friends” who have a pretty significant physical attraction.
Then he got up to shower. When he came out in nothing but a towel, I almost died right there.
He looked so good. So delicious. I’m surprised I didn’t get off the couch, crawl across the floor, and beg him to give me the towel.
But I didn’t have to beg. Because Austin was in a teasing mood.
What he did to me, I can tell you, nearly broke me. But I’m invested in Austin’s vow of celibacy too. So I restrained myself.
We migrated to Austin’s bedroom. My dress first came halfway off, then all the way off as Austin gave me the most stimulating massage I’ve ever had.
It was hard to breathe and the feeling was amazing.
Austin kept asking me to do things and my head said, “You should ALWAYS say yes to Austin.”
So I did. I said yes to everything he asked.
Yes, do that. Yes, please. Yes. Yes. Yes.
And what a ride he took me on. I was amazed. Stunned. Enthralled.
The beauty of it was that it all felt very seamless. Like drifting from one activity to another in a light haze of desire and sensuality.
I had an outstanding time with Austin. Literally not a single thing I would change about the day except to say to Austin that he made my day, my week, and quite possibly my month and I am forever grateful for his company and friendship.
I’m loving the new makeup look, inspired by Annie Garau. Thought I’d post of pic of me with no makeup and my natural hair, which I straighten all the time.
I’ve been told I look like Anna Nicole Smith. I do not see the resemblance, mostly because are noses are so different, but it does beg the question…. which Anna Nicole Smith do I look like?
Breasts. Tits. Knockers. Fun bags. Boobs. Boobies. Kittens. Jugs.
No matter what you call them it’s impossible to ignore the fact that as a nation we both glorify and denigrate them.
Take for instance the recent outpouring of objection to women breast feeding in public. One the one hand, we applaud the women for providing milk and important antibodies to their children. On the other hand we reject them doing this service for their child in public. Why the double standard?
The breast has become so highly sexualized in our culture that it’s become hard for us to see it as anything besides sexual. We try to suspend this belief when we see a woman nursing an infant, but God forbid we see a woman nursing an older child. Oh, how we get up in arms about it.
I applaud women who breast feed in public. When my sons were small, I did too. And while I’m a bit of an exhibitionist and have been known to show my breasts on this blog, I can’t help but wonder about my participation in the over-sexualization of the breast.
I wish we could all just love the breast for the amazing body part that it is, in all its sexual and asexual capacity. I would like to see not just 20-something year olds taking topless selfies of their perfect silicone breasts when I do a google search for ‘topless selfies’ (NSFW)but also the variety of shapes, sizes, and ages that breasts come in. Why do we hate on the woman who shows her breasts post mastectomy? Why do we give violence a PG rating but nudity gets an R rating?
Take it from someone who likes nude beaches and nude resorts, breasts come in many varieties, not just what you see in Playboy magazine. I, for one, love the diversity. I love my own breasts specifically, and other women’s breasts in general. I even enjoy the very unique man boob.
What can I say, boobs just make me happy.
And so to celebrate the breast, I’m posting a great boob shot of me. No implants. After breast feeding 3 boys. In an awesome red bra.
Embrace the breast. No hate.
P.S. This post was inspired by Ann St. Vincent’s blog post ” I’m going to show you my tits” who herself was inspired by Hyacinth Jones’ “My political career is ruined: I have too many tit pics on the internet.”
I’m about to run around with a bunch of horny beasts.
No, I’m not talking about a progressive with Sigma Alpha Epsilon (the reigning fraternity when I was at UCSB).
I’m talking about real horned beasts.
Yes, I am participating in the Great Bull Run at the Alameda County Fairgrounds TOMORROW.
And I’m totally excited.
Following the Bull Run is the Tomato Royale – basically a big food fight where you get to fling rotten tomatoes at everyone. Keep that mouth closed! Yum.
I’m especially excited because my cousin Jennifer and a friend will be there too. Running with the bulls. And throwing tomatoes on me.
What could be a better way to spend and afternoon?
Wait… don’t answer that.
I just signed up for a cooking class at Draeger’s in Menlo Park.
I will be learning to prepare a French meal.
It’s something I’ve never done before and I’m excited to be taking a class to learn something new.
I am a big believer in lifelong learning – whether as a lay person or as an actual student. The is always room for more knowledge.
What is my Field Guide to lifelong learning?
- Question Everything – don’t take your truths for granted, understand them for yourself. Get your butcher to talk about meats. Get your friend talking about his/her creative process. The important thing is to stay curious. Seek. Ask. Find.
- Map Your Route – devise a plan to keep you from going astray. Creating ritual will give a pleasant rhythm to your learning and your life.
- Keep a Field Notebook – a notebook will make you a more attuned pupil. The words will shape the narrative of you life. [Why do you think I blog?]
- Take Flight – We can’t give equal attention to everything so choose wisely. Drop a book the minute it becomes boring or useless. Skim. Skip.
- Dive to the Depths – depth gives knowledge dimension. Lose yourself in what you’re studying and come out a more astute, more human you.
So there you have it, my Field Guide to Lifelong Learning.