A fun post to balance the feels…

When I did the burlesque class a couple weeks ago, apart from being inherently rigid and prim, I also couldn’t really get into any of the music. I’d never heard any of the songs before, and the instructor kept looking at me like, “Bitch, what music do you need to relax your stupid, uptight hips?”

THIS. I needed this. Bring me back that chair — I’ll make it my bitch. I could burlesque the shit out of this.

“Run your fingers through my hair,
I want you to touch me there,
But I will not open up my thighs
When you’ve got bourbon in your eyes,
You’re the one that makes me smile,

And I know you’d make it worth my while,
But she’s waiting for you and I think she cries,
When you’ve got bourbon in your eyes.”

Or, hey, if we’re going for something more (incredibly) obvious, can I get a little Aguilera up in here?

“You’ve been a bad bad boy
I’m gonna take my time, so enjoy
There’s no need to feel no shame
Relax and sip upon my champagne
‘Cause I wanna give you a little taste
Of the sugar below my waist, you nasty boy…”


New plan for the evening: My own burlesque playlist and workout. I have Sex Kitten capacities, dammit. I am a WANTON, SULTRY STRUMPET! HMPH! (Just…you know, don’t look at me or anything. Because then I just get awkward. And not in a cute, Deschnanelly way — it’s got a li’l Gollum on it, frankly.)


Email to friends:

“Do we remember the friend of my brother’s I ‘dated’ more than a year ago? The one who left my birthday gift at my door while I wasn’t home 6 months later because after we ‘broke up’ I kept avoiding seeing him to get it?

“He just texted me a Wonder Woman thing, and I figured the unknown number was a Facebook friend (which he isn’t) who’d seen the Wonder Woman thing I just posted. I responded asking who it was and he said, ‘It’s Ben, but thanks for losing my number…again…lol,’ (I’d deleted it before and we had the same discussion), and then, ‘We have to catch up sometime.’

“Christ, I thought *I* couldn’t take a hint. At least when someone used ME for sex and then stopped talking to me, I went AWAY.  

“This is why I refuse to date any more family friends. Catch up on what? We were never friends. We didn’t have conversations, we had sex, and I don’t feel the need to catch up on that.

“How do I always end up picking the guys who aren’t just happy to get their dick wet a few times and move on?

“To save you the time typing your (much appreciated) advice, I already blocked his number.”

Look, I know, I’m a coward and an asshole. I should be honest, but I really don’t know how other than the ‘I can’t date you anymore’ conversation we already had, and he reminds me of a time in my life I’m working really hard to get past. 

Do you know why we’re no longer sleeping together, sir? I couldn’t get it up for you anymore because we didn’t have good conversations. The only thing we had in common was binge eating, and during the month we hung out, you disrespected the only, like, TWO boundaries I have. We didn’t start as friends, and I can’t BE friends with someone whose only redeeming quality is being good at oral sex. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a fantastic skill — I will endorse you for it on OKCupid or whatever. But we can’t go get coffee like we’re long-lost besties.

(Again, I know. I’m a dick. In my defense, I told him up front I had issues, and he thought it was all quirky and cute and Deschanel. No, it’s bitchy and irrational. Fine line.)