Let’s be honest here. I just rewrote this sentence twice after returning home from having a beer with coworkers. I promise it was only one, but seriously, I am beyond tired and should be going to bed instead of writing to you at this time and hour.
A face like this needs its beauty sleep.
It could be the beer, but this TV sounds really loud to me all of a sudden. I could simply be getting old, too. Ugh, whoever thought they’d see the day where I would utter something like that. Why I even decided to put on an unwatched episode of SNL is beyond me. I’m going to spend more time looking at that damn TV than to this computer screen. I can be a real dinkus sometimes.
It could also be my massive love and obsession with Bill Hader. Some call him absolutely creepy. Me? I’d jump him backstage in less than five seconds if given the chance.
This past weekend has got me going all sorts of crazy. It’s got me thinking about lots of things. Dating, guys, getting out into the country more often, actually eating something that wasn’t made on a deep-fried grill,the job search, wanting to move back home to help out for an extended period of time…and more about boys.
What is it about the country that drives the hormones crazy? The Pure Romance party I hosted for my sister’s Bachelorette Party didn’t help matters any. The weird thing? I ended up buying more beauty products than anything else after the Pure Romance segment was concluded. It’s fantastic. Not only did I buy a heated massager, but I also purchased this stuff called Dream, which is a pillow spray in the scent of rosemary, rosewood, and patchouli.
It smells so incredible.
If you want to imagine the smell, think of a legitimate hair salon that sorely uses Aveda products. Naturally, I adore Aveda (despite the price sometimes), and the smell just makes me feel like I am in heaven. Going to the hair salon once every three months or so just makes me lose myself from reality.
Everybody needs one, so don’t judge.
“When the grandmothers of today hear the word Chippendales, they don’t think of chairs.”
Oh, Jean Kerr…you are quite the dish dispenser. It’s a fact of our time era. Sex sells. Perfect example? The movie Magic Mike. Shirtless men with ripped chests and abs ripping their clothes off for money. You can’t tell me there isn’t at least one steamy love scene somewhere in that movie. Whenever somebody strips their clothes for money in a movie as a main character of the overall plot, there’s at least ONE steamy sex scene.
Trends don’t lie.
Recently, my sister and I made a list of things we will never, ever be able to talk to each other about despite how close we are, how close we’ve been, or how close we will become in the future.
What happens behind closed doors with boys is one such topic.
So imagine the look on her face (and everyone else’s faces for that matter) when the Pure Romance consultant walks into the room and tells us she’s going to open our minds to not only getting more pleasure in bed, but also with ourselves when the men in our lives “just don’t get it.”
I have never laughed as hard as I did that night by simply watching the reactions on my sister’s faces as the presentation continued. The beauty product version of everything went really well with people ooh-ing and ahh-ing when appropriate. I really wanted to get this perfume whose name I can’t recall at this exact moment, but it’s made with mostly pheromones so when it hits your skin, it mixes with the hormones in your body and it makes its scent according to the combination of pheromones and hormones inside everyone’s individual body. When initially rolled on, it does have a fruity smell about it, but after a few minutes, it starts to accumulate to your body’s specific chemistry. It’s perfectly named Basic Instinct.
I considered mine to smell almost like Bath and Body Works scent “Delicious,” but I was knocked off my high horse when my sister smelled my wrist and said, “Yours smells musty.”
Musty? Are you kidding me?!
Ah well, she was the guest of honor. I really couldn’t argue with her all that much. At least, not for one night anyways 🙂
On top of that, we filled out a card for her so she can improve her presentations from this point out based on what we had to say about our experiences with this particular time, and there was a question of “Out of the women with you in the group this time, which of them would make a possible Pure Romance consultant?”
Everyone, minus myself, wrote down my name.
Me? A Pure Romance consultant? Apparently I’m very energetic and open about talking about embarrassing topics. So, people think I could make a living talking about sex. Hey, it’s been a small dream of mine to be a guest blogger for the Cosmopolitan. You know the ones I’m talking about…30 Days of Sex, or 365 of Dating Tips,..things like that. Everything is anonymous, and no real names are mentioned, but the real, raw, but juicy fun details we all love to read about. It’s entertaining, to say the least.
And sex for 30 days straight? I could handle that. It’s the guy I’d have to worry about. It takes a special guy to actually take part in the blogging experiment experience, and not just go along with it because…well, because he wants nothing but sex for 30 days.
Nothing is ever as good as it seems.
But my eyes are really starting to get heavy now, so I’m going to leave you with a few uplifting parting words. Remember, the week is officially half way over, so here’s a little push in continuing to make it better.
– You have the power to make positive changes.
– Life is a menu with unlimited choices.
– Kick stress off your team.
– No one’s star shines brighter than yours.
– Setbacks are only temporary.
– No matter what chapter you’re on, you are a success story.
– Keep your eyes on the prize. It’s so close!
Who knew a body would need an entire week to recover from two days worth of wedding time party bliss?