Currently Chasing: Passionate Kisses

And since then I am because you are

And since then you are I am and we are

And through love I will be you will be we will be

I read that today and thought. Wow.

I am because you are.

I AM because YOU ARE.

When is the last time you felt like that about someone? My daughter feels that way about me because it’s true. She is because I am. But have I ever felt that way about a man? Do I even have the capacity to feel that way about another human being?

Do you ever notice that sometimes you are with someone for such a long period of time that you stop doing things that used to give you the feeling those words above inspire?

Like maybe you just stop kissing. It seems like such a small thing. You still hug. You still cuddle. You still hold hands. You still touch each other on the smalls of your backs while waiting in line. You still lean up against each other while deciding what you want from the dollar menu.

But you don’t kiss. Your lips don’t meet. And if they do it’s brief. It’s definitely not tongues swirling all which ways. So into the kiss that you don’t even care that he didn’t shave and now he is performing harsh dermabrasion all over your chin, upper lip and neck region. So engrossed in each other’s mouths that you can’t tell if he’s breathing for just him, or for you both.

A co-worker told me that grade school girls took a survey and answered that kissing was more intimate than blow jobs. Although that is a horrifying declaration, as a thirty something adult, I’m in full agreement. I mean, as a mother I of course don’t want my daughter kissing, hugging, blowing … nada. Zip. Zilch. I want her to have an affair with books. I want her to fall in love with mathematics. And I want her to long only for Apps for her Iphone.

But if someone asked me now, what is more intimate…a blow job or a kiss. I would have to say a kiss. Now, what takes more work, what has the ability to make you physical ill, what makes you wish you had no teeth…a blow job.

But what makes you feel connected, what makes you weak in the knees, what takes your breath away? . A blow job. A kiss.

Cher said it best, “it’s in his kiss.”

So if you aren’t really kissing…then where is it? A blow job?. A sweet gesture? A foot rub? Is it in his words or in his actions? Should you just let things ride and hope the kissing comes back or should you just try to sneak them in when he’s watching sports and his mouth is already open because so and so just missed a crucial shot?

I want to be because someone else is.

The happy ever after is sealed with a kiss right? Or is that just how he wakes the princess…and then from then on it’s just blow jobs the ever after?

Currently Chasing: the ability to see what I've been missing

You ever just go through life wanting all kinds of things and then one day wake up and realize, holy shit, I’ve got it; I’ve got it all?

Well I woke up today feeling exactly like that. I mean, I know that part of what people love about this blog is all the self loathing I do, and trust me when I say I’m sure there is more of that to come. But let’s look at the facts:

My day started out with a phone call from my daughter who just wanted to tell me good morning and that she loved me.

I woke up today in my bed, which sits in a room, which is part of a home that I own.

The first thing I decided to put on fit perfectly and looked great.

My hair behaved.

I didn’t forget to take out the trash, or grab the stuff I need to take to the dry cleaners and the post office.

I have money in the bank and a new car.

I have friends who adore me and a boyfriend who changes my air filters, fixes my vacuum cleaner and gets my tv back to working order after my daughter pushes a hundred buttons trying to turn on the Wii.

I currently work at what has always been my dream job, and I interviewed yesterday for another job that will allow me to grow in my career and secure my future.

I have a 401K and a good credit score.

SO WHAT AM I ABOUT TO DO TO SCREW IT ALL UP?       

I mean, that’s what always happens right? Things start going right, you don’t feel like you deserve it, you start thinking something is missing, when actually the only thing that’s missing is your willingness to accept that things are just – good.

All this chasing. Feels nice to pause and see what I’ve been missing.

Currently Chasing: Life more ordinary

Before I left for Afghanistan there were things I loved to do. I loved to shop. I loved to get my nails and hair done. I loved to go out to eat. I wasn’t a huge fan of working out, but I did it so I could eat at Olive Garden on occasion and not end up a house. I loved. I lost. I had my heart broken. I was a big fan of the iphone and I was a master texter.

While in Afghanistan, not a lot changed. I still shopped. I was able to get my hair cut and highlighted. There were a couple of places to go and feel like you were ‘eating out.’ I still wasn’t a huge fan of working out, but did it so that eating the contents of 27 care packages didn’t make me end up a house. I loved. I lost. I had my heart broken. And I was still a big fan of the iphone. Able to use it with the afghan network and continue to text and check my email.

However, in between all of that there were other things going on. Rocket attacks in the middle of the night that you would find out later sent shrapnel through the face and body of a friend. Suicides. IED’s that left 21 year olds without legs and 19 years olds with broken backs. Young girls who weren’t allowed to read or write or get any kind of attention at all without the fear of being beat. Wives thrown in jail for trying to divorce their husbands. Suicide bombs strapped to children. Kids walking the streets , use to the daily sight of men with guns and convoys strolling through their towns.

I’m happy to say that I have returned with what are now 10 pedicured toes and 10 manicured fingers. I went to the mall yesterday to shop. I plan on getting my hair done ASAP. Been out to eat every day since returning…and have even managed to work out a little. I’m sure I’m going to love and lose and have my heart broken. And my iphone has never left my side.

I learned a lot being in Afghanistan, but I didn’t let it drastically change my life, and I kind of think that is the point. It’s not that I don’t appreciate what I have a little bit more, I do. For sure. But I’m not going to hole myself up somewhere and start living like a poverished person simply because Americans don’t understand how good they have it. Quite the opposite. I feel like I, and many many others before me have given of ourselves so that Americans can shop and get thier nails done and discuss Brittany Spears and Lindsey Lohan without feeling like they are part of an oblivious society.  

I never once looked at facebook and thought, wow, my friends are discussing a Tupperware party. How irrelevant. There are REAL things going on in the world people, and all you care about are flexible and extremely durable plastic containers? Really? WE ARE AT WAR! Instead I was thinking…thank God that is what they are focusing on right now. Because that is what America is about. The freedom to do what you want within the law. If you want to worry every single second about the war, burn your own shit to ‘suffer like a soldier,’ stop using fresh water,  start washing your clothes with a rock and a bucket, harden up your mattress, toughen up your meat and ‘appreciate’ your life, then by all means, go for it. But that is not going to make the servicemembers fighting for your comfort feel any better. They fight for one reason. So they, their families and their friends can ‘enjoy’ the damn Olive Garden from time to time.

I’m not saying live beyond your means, spoil your children and take things for granted. I’m simply saying don’t feel bad about enjoying your life. I may hug my daughter a little tighter and tell her I love her a little more often, but if she wants to tack up posters of Justin Beiber, play her Nintendo, talk on the phone, and obsess about what style backpack she wants, well that’s just fine by me. I’m not going to shove pictures of mud huts at her and tell her that kids her age are walking weapon systems in Afghanistan.

My experiences have expanded since my deployment, but I believe that we fight so that life doesn’t have to change. Now, did someone say Tupperware? I’m a sucker for those airtight lids.

Currently Chasing: An Answer to Why I Suck

There’s something I don’t understand about women. It’s something I don’t even understand about myself. It’s fucking ridiculous actually. Why do we put up with stupid shit and settle for men who make us want to shoot ourselves in the face?

And guess what else we do.  After said love of our life shits all over us, we talk a bunch of shit about him to our friends. I do this all the time. I fucking do this in my blog. I talk/write a bunch of shit about how retarded and douchie he is. I tell the world that I can’t stand him and that I will not put up with what he has done.

Meanwhile I’m fucking texting him asking if we can get back together, or if I can come over and pick up a couple things I left there, or if I can just suck his dick while he plays call of duty. Whatever. Just please let me be in your presence!

And simultaneously all of my friends are applauding me because of how well I’m handling everything. They are high fiving me and telling me that I’m a strong independent woman and I don’t need that asshole bringing me down. And I’m right there saying, you are so fucking right! Fuck this guy. I don’t need him. He was such a waste of my life. I DESERVE BETTER.

Meanwhile I’m still stalking him on facebook and wondering if he’s going to unfriend me and messaging every girl who comments on his status to let her know what a dillhole he is and that she shouldn’t get involved with him because he’s only going to destroy her heart, her trust, and her reason for living. “Run for your life Girl!” I’ll scream.

But simultaneously I’m asking said guy to come over and talk because I just really think we can work it out. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH US.

Case in point:

I want to lose about 20 pounds. So I say to this really sweet guy I like once I reach my goal weight of 145 I’ll be happy. So about seven minutes into the conversation he says, you know at 115 you would look emaciated.

“yeah, that’s why I don’t want to be 115. I want to be 145.”

Then he said, “At 120, your face would still be sunk in.”

“Um, yeah, what is your point? I don’t want to be 120.”

Then he says: "You know at 125 or 130, with your frame, you would be really lean with a tiny waist. And your ass would be perfectly round and tight."

To which I respond, “ …………..shock…………..awe………….”

You’ve got to fucking be kidding me? I just told him I wanted to be 145, which admittedly is thinner than I’ve EVER been in my whole adult life…and he suggests I lose an additional 15 pounds?

FUCK YOU.

So I tell my friend about it. She agrees with me that this guy is a bag of assholes.

So the next day when he sent a text telling me I took his statement wrong and that he didn’t mean it, I should have told him to shove it up shitter, but instead I wrote back some flirty bullshit and brought women back 20 years in the process. Why am I always forcing women to (D)E volve?  

I’ve done this in the past as well. You spend so much time convincing all of your friends that some guy is a total waste of your time and that he should die…and then you bring him to your fucking block party and expect everyone to just forget that they spent four hours holding your hand and comforting you while you blew snot rockets and cried trailers of tears the night before.

Men are not that strong ladies … the weakness is in us!

But guess what? We are good enough, pretty enough and smart enough to actually move on! And these guys who treat us like we are replaceable just need to become background noise. Now excuse me while I hit the gym, I’ve got 35 pounds to lose. Then he’ll love me.