Eeeeewwwwwww!
At the same time...respect...
Via Decider: 
P.S. I saw a link for a porn parody of this over the weekend, but could not bring myself to click to watch Fuller Holes, even under the guise of "research."
So, hey...
Remember that time I liked an OkCupid guy enough to talk on the phone?
And how he mentioned his teeth were "fake," and I thought, "Oh, he probably has veneers. Those look so natural, dentistry is amazing. Tra la la...?"
And how later we got to talking about oral sex (as you do), and he said he's been told he's great at it because he has "more room to open up and maneuver around?"
And then how my brain doubled back and I ventured, "Do you mean you take...the teeth out...when you...?"
And how he was just like, "Yeah!," as if "gummilingus" were the hot new thing in the latest Cosmo and I was totally behind the times?
And then how I died? Remember that? REMEMBER HOW I DIED?
Man. Good times.
That is all true. I could not make that up. Fucking Chuck Palahniuk couldn't make that up.
I need to go take 600 boiling hot showers, and then surely there's some fancy spa treatment where you sit all day in a vat of Purell? Right. Shut up and take my credit card, and let us never speak of this again.
I'm really not informed enough to comment on any racism or sexism that did or did not lead to this decision.
But the racism and sexism I saw while reading about it online were goddamn vile and disgusting.
Via CNN: Melissa Harris-Perry 'highly unlikely' to return to MSNBC
I didn't always agree with her, but I liked that show because it was a different perspective from all the white dudes they're focusing on. Plus, having seen the rest of their programming, there's really quite enough "breaking election news" without ditching your weekend morning hosts to make it a complete, 24-hour circle jerk. What, you need to pre-empt your Sunday shows to report that Donald Trump pooped and what that might mean for his Super Tuesday numbers?
I feel guilty and shallow about how much it's changed my life to learn I can pop into a Hair Cuttery at lunchtime, give a nice lady $20, and she will wash my raggedy hair, take the 9 hours necessary to blowdry it all, and make it way prettier than I ever do.
But it IS pretty goddamn delightful. Good work, America. (FUCK, YEAH!)
I am so aroused by this that I'm blushing while watching it at work. I'm actually uncomfortable and a little squirmy.
Shut up.
Colbert doesn't get involved until about 3:10, but Jesus God, he's, like, gasping and breathing heavy and I might need to go take care of a few things...with a mop...
Judging by my reaction to hearing it through headphones, if he got breathy even remotely near my ear in person, I would lose my goddamn mind. #truthiness
I realize I'm ageist, but I think there's an age limit for using the term "friends with benefits." I haven't pinpointed the specifics, but I think it's before age 50.
I'm 40 and only say it jokingly. I also hate it, because at least half the people offering it want ONLY the benefits, but think they'll have better luck with the LADIES if they dress it up with a cute little bow.
Theory: You can't say "FWB" once you're getting mail from the AARP. That's...the rules of abbreviations.
Also, I don't know if anyone said that phrase before Alanis Morissette, but that's not what she meant, shitheel.
This reflection brought to you by a 54-year-old man on OkCupid, username "Just_Discreet_FWB," sending me three messages in less than 24 hours, either not remembering or not caring that he's messaged me twice before. I am clearly memorable. Either that or he's just old and can't keep track.
P.S. I'm not hating on 54. I'd get on 54. But THIS 54-year-old has the ick on him.
A guy's OkCupid profile quoted Mitch Hedberg twice without attribution.
I will not send him a message suggesting he cite his source...
I will not send him a message suggesting he cite his source...
I will not send him a message suggesting he cite his source...
His profile says he's "inspired" by comedians. Um, no, dude, you're just stealing shit, and trying way too hard to be clever. I can FEEL the "Aren't I cute and clever?"* desperation emanating from his profile. (I know my own.)
*George Carlin, by the way.
Sage advice from a friend on the STI front: "You're already going into this with your eyes open; now it's just if your legs are open, too."
I told the guy I couldn't meet him until I got tested, with a remarkable number of apologetic qualifiers for telling a man that sex with him may not be worth the risk of going the rest of my life with a disclaimer on my vagina. ("Not a big deal" depends who you ask. I will ask a doctor and go from there.)
I said if he didn't want to meet me, I'd understand, but he said HE understood and would meet me when I was ready. Later, he called me sexy, smart, and quick, so you can see why I'm trying so hard to ride this particular unicorn.
He's actually so good on paper that I'm worried it's a trap. Like, am I the only woman who didn't immediately say "no" to this? How is he saying everything I need to hear? Is that instinct honed from years of practice on various conquests he's humped and dumped? Is he, like, 70 years old? (He's not, I stalked his Facebook. Don't judge me, that's HIS fault. There's a reason MY personal account is locked down -- all you get is photos of sunsets and the profile pic they make you leave public.)
But in the meantime, another friend sent me this article/podcast, should you wish to read/hear more on the matter.
I may have to cancel my other date, because as it turns out, I may not be sexually frustrated ENOUGH to hook up with an open-married man with herpes simplex 1 (the cold sore kind).
Womp, womp.
I'm actually bummed about this. He was my first online dating spark and I was looking forward to meeting, kissing, and eventually sleeping with him. Understand how MUCH I was looking forward to it, because I'm actually debating, "What are the odds I already have/will get this?"If this were any other guy, it'd be a Fadeaway tout suite. But Dude was willing to go out to dinner with me, fuck me, then LEAVE, and he's not an idiot. THAT'S THE DREAM.
Obviously I'm glad he told me, and I'm going to get my own full STI screen. Who the hell knows, maybe I already have it -- you can get it a million different (non-sexual) ways and never show symptoms. If I DO...well, the bright side is that sex is on. But if I don't, I don't want to go through the rest of my life disclosing this to potential partners and boyfriends because I had casual sex with a married guy.
It's interesting: I polled a few friends about this and got divided responses. Some people said, "Eh. No big deal, everyone has it," and others were like, "No. That's some soulmate shit, not something you want to get from a married fling."
One friend said I was "Chandlering," a nod to Chandler Bing from Friends, who used reasons like "mascara goop" and giant heads as excuses not to date women because he was afraid. I AM afraid, but truly believe I haven't rejected anyone for the male equivalent of "mascara goop." I'm waiting for a decent bit of chemistry, someone worth shaving my legs for, and genuinely haven't had it until now. Also, Chandler's romantic issues ended with one of the top 5 best marriage proposals in TV history, so if I AM Chandler, I'll take it.
In researching this, I've learned a lot of places don't screen for herpes as part of a routine STI test -- you can add it to the standard test, or you can test for it separately. So I've had "an STI test," but I think the woman said those screen only for chlamydia, gonorrhea, and HIV. So... "The more you know... *brrrrring*"
I've also learned that Googling "herpes" will make you never want to have sex again, and that getting tested for STIs is a tremendous pain in the balls: my insurance won't cover testing at Planned Parenthood, and I can't get a gyno appointment until April. Can't they add this to CVS's Minute Clinic services? It seems pretty important.
Also, it is not at all weird that my personal Facebook, not connected to OkCupid in any way, suggested I add Hot Married Guy as a friend. But damn, he's cute... Goddammit...
I've been talking to other "open relationship" guys on OkCupid, because apparently I'm open-minded now (?), and motherFUCK me -- leave it to me to find a Clinger in an open relationship.
How are you texting me every day, morning and night? Go text your main Bunny, Hef. The point of me exploring this option was that I wouldn't meet clingy people. How have you pushed a potential sidepiece to my "Please stop talking" threshold in less than 4 days? Do you have to have the open relationship because you talk too much for one woman to handle?
I get the sense his lady has had more success with this setup than he has.
He asked if I was OK because my most recent texts haven't been as enthusiastic or flirtatious, so I mentioned I was at work, and still debating if I can handle the open relationship.
He's still talking, "joking" that it's OK if I just want to be friends, but that I'll change my mind when I meet him.
OK, Karma, you've made your point: I behaved like a desperate, slutty Clinger with That Guy. I realized that on my own, and have tried to adjust accordingly, even with friends (minus the "slutty" bit). Are we done here?
And good work, dude -- congrats on being the reason I go back to giving people a Google Voice number instead of my real one.
Thankfully there's still another open-married guy. Hee. We like him -- he's dreamy and wants to go down on me. I'll have to name him. Probably, like..."Matt Trimony." Heh. I'm clever.
I don't know what it says about me that I officially lost interest in a man when he said the hooker-client relationship was too impersonal: "There's no love there, no little notes on your car windshield."
So...your degree is not in rocket science, is it? That's the POINT -- professional fucking and no ridiculous feelings. Not all of us enjoy romance via vehicular litter.
Honestly, how did people ever end doomed online dating "relationships" without the iPhone's number-block feature?
What? Is that NOT how I'm supposed to do it?
I'm not an asshole, he is, and a creeper to boot. Trust, this was merited, and sanctioned by a panel of experts.
During the most intense of the phone flirting, you said you wanted to "impale"* me with your dick, and later told me you like your ladies in white cotton underthings, considered aloud that it made you sound a little pedo, but said it anyway? *deep breath* I'm out.
There was more, if that's not enough.
It's my fault, really. I should've known when I saw his name was "Phyl." You know, like "Phil," except you're an asshole. Goddamn hipsters.
* That's not just me, right? I realize I'm not exactly after "sweet, gentle, love-making" here -- I definitely need to be banged the hell out of. Probably twice, just to make sure we unclench all the Crazy. But isn't "impale" a tad aggressive? I'd really like to live through this transaction, sir.
The bad news: I had to postpone the other OkCupid date I had scheduled tomorrow. I still have residual plague and it really wouldn't be cute if I were coughing up my entire lung over coffee.
The good news: Now there's time to get my hair cut and colored, get various waxes and a manicure like I'm an Actual Woman, and for my menstrual cycle to end, because I'm definitely not above third base on a first date. (He gives good text; he can skip ahead a bit.)
Make way for my Dating Representative, y'all. She's virtually hairless and wears heels. It's on.
-- Amelia Shepherd, Grey's Anatomy
#TGIT #BeenThere
Um...*raising hand*
Did I miss a memo? Is this what Drew Barrymore's face looks like now? 'Cause I Googled her, and... I don't think it is.
But OK, Harper's Bazaar. You do what you need to do. Even if it's really fucking weird.
Via Huffington Post: Adidas Shuts Down Homophobic Commenters In The Best Way Possible.
...Right, then.
So we're all gonna go buy at least one pair of Adidas shoes?
Good. Glad we had this talk.
The HELL? My brain saw "super-cute shoes" on "feet." Not on "gay feet." How does that even cross your mind?
Also? They're SHOES. On INSTAGRAM. How do you have time to give even ONE baker's fuck about this? Or does "being an asshole on the Internet" now count as "doing God's work?"
I had scheduled a date. I was going to meet an OkCupid person. We were going to go to a Philly taproom I've wanted to go to for years but never had time/company. They have fried PB&J, and I KNOW y'all don't think I'm above eating the HELL out of that on a first date.
Yeah... I can't. I started thinking about our conversations, the number of red flags I'd been letting pass because they were "just little things" that made me go "Hmm..." But when considered together, they make me really uncomfortable. I have a bad vibe I didn't get from the initial OkC messaging, but have had for the past few days of texting. I told friends about less than half of those "little things," and they told me to cancel, and cancel NOW.
But something in my brain felt guilty, like I should meet him because I said I would, because I said we'd at least be friends, because I flirted, because I took the flirting further than I should have, because I am a sexually frustrated attention whore, and because what did I expect would happen when I behaved that way?
Sound advice from a friend: "Don't help them think only with their dicks until you've at least seen their face."
On occasion it seems a self-proclaimed male "feminist" bloviating that, "Women should be able to express their sexuality without fear of being judged!" translates to, "I'm going to make demands on your time and behavior, and treat you like you owe me something, even when you're sick, or busy, or clearly don't want to." I guess I'm only free to express it when the whoring works in your favor?
But I am legitimately concerned, all bad Spidey Sense, and fuck that. I'm not gonna get axe murdered just so everyone at my funeral can remember me as NICE. (My friends wouldn't -- they'd be like, "GAWD, how was she such an accommodating asshole when her asshole never actually accommodated anyone?!" My mom would probably be proud I died polite, though... [Ahem. Too dark?])
Anyway. I should've known when I found myself telling him we had to go out Monday because I was "busy" on Thursday -- busy watching Scandal, but busy nonetheless.
It's possible I have more feelings than one normal person should, like maybe I evolved wrong, or missed a meeting. Because I shouldn't be blaming myself for being "slutty" here. ("Well, yeah, I feel like he's overstepping my boundaries, but how would he know I even HAD boundaries?") And if I'm actually worried about my safety (not a TON, but...a little), I REALLY shouldn't feel bad about either just saying "no" or blocking his number.
Today's OkStupid intro message: "You got pretty eyes n nice smile go with it :)"
1. Pfft, I knew that. I have my bad body image days, but I actually like my eyes and smile. If I hate my face, it's usually my nose or my skin.
2. Go with...what, exactly? Having those features? Yeah, I pretty much have to -- they're on my face. Unless I get color contacts and cosmetic dentistry, these are the eyes and smile I'm gonna roll with.
3. Do you mean I should go with YOU? Where? Back to third grade to learn grammar? No, thanks, Billy Madison. (Alternate joke: "Where, the 7-Eleven on Broadway? Do you even know my name, screwboy?")
Talking to a friend...
Me: "I'm thinking about hooking up with an 'open marriage' guy from OkCupid."
Friend: "You could try it. I mean...you're already IN therapy."
There's immense appeal in a guy who'll come with me to a movie, come with me in the bedroom, then get the hell out. When I try to date proper, I attract Clingers, get anxious, and make terrible choices. That shouldn't be an issue with one who's already housebroken.
But I also know myself, and I may be too insecure to come second...literally or otherwise. If Dude satisfies my needs too well, I may catch feels, and if I fall for him, I'm SOL. The wife's gonna stay the wife -- I'd just be Slutty McSidepiece. I do not do well as Slutty McSidepiece.
I wonder if I'd rather fend off Clingers and hold out for a person with whom feels are at least an option, even if we never get there.
Then again... I don't HAVE to date the guy long. Maybe I NEED a naked friend to fuck some clarity into me without all the relationship crap.
Also, if you consider where I am mentally, I might as well be in an open marriage, too. I have one guy I'd drop anything and anyone to help and/or be with, so as far as my heart and brain are concerned, I also have a "primary partner." Then I still have the second guy in the back of my head, just for bonus emotional fuckery, so I have even worse trust issues than before. I can't handle a real relationship, are you crazy?
Plus, if the guy turns out to be boring, I can just say I can't handle playing second fiddle. (And that may actually turn out to be true.)
I can spot a Clinger at 50 paces now, anyway -- "Oh, you're doing THAT? Yeah, I've done that. I INVENTED that. Don't even." So far I've encountered three on OkCupid, and I've dodged them all without ever meeting them.
I'm a Recovering Clinger, and I approved this message.
P.S. I actually ran this by the therapist and she says I'm in the clear as long as I'm safe. She told me it was good for me to explore options, to be aware of those emotional attachments I still have, to be conscious of what I need, and possibly work out a way to GET it without pressuring myself about being in a "proper" relationship. I think this is a good intermittent step, and she seems to agree.
P.P.S. Dude is ADORABLE and I want to make all the sex with him.
Hee... I have a date...
Two, actually.
But the first one, if he's half as good-looking as a mailbox in person, I am going to fuck him senseless in the very near future.
Carry on.
I'm clearly not the most politically correct person.
BUT.
Here are some actual, verbatim things I've seen in OkCupid profiles, and I can't believe anyone wrote them. You can THINK whatever you want, but...you wrote it down. Where people can SEE it. People into whom you are endeavoring to put your penis.
1. "I'm affectionate (alright, maybe a little cuddle friendly...I'm trying not to be too limp wristed here)."
2. "I'm german, irish and native american (indian, but the dreamcatching, raindancing, tomahawk-chopping kind, not hindian)."
3. "I prefer Caucasian women attractive and in shape."
4. "My taste is specific to girls who are described as either thin, petite, or athletic...sorry, but big girls are not within the range of my interest. No offense intended, but only Caucasians or Asians."
Happy Valentine's Day, my loves. Have a splendid and safe day.
I'll be spending mine orally fixated on a trough of manicotti, and later making sweet, sweet love to an irresponsible number of Godiva salted caramels. (Candy-based promiscuity is the best promiscuity.)
See also: watching Friends with Benefits again, because Justin Timberlake singing Kris Kross is EVERYONE's Valentine.
Love and many kisses,
Smug 
Um...you guys? Is anyone else scared? 
I went to the site to replace some basic lingerie I don't have to think about when I get dressed for work, stuff I can just put on and know for sure there'll be no lace, seams, or wonky padding disrupting my ensemble. (And, admittedly, MAYBE some special-interest items for down the line...)
But I don't think I can spend money there now. That's troubling.
I'm not just being an asshole -- this photo LEGIT looks like that woman did not sign up for this.
"Senator Holmes? Let's talk. You know, your state's got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one."
A Kansas senator presented a new dress code for the State Capitol. Only for women, though, because men "already know how to look professional."
Oh, hey! Kiss my professional dick, sir.
Also...Senator? You work in the fucking State Capitol. OF KANSAS. What could these women have POSSIBLY been wearing? Pasties with tassels? G-string? Corset and thigh-highs?
I took this from the Fox News article about it: "[The code] prevents women testifying on bills from wearing low-cut necklines and miniskirts.
"Holmes said, 'We're looking for you to be addressing the issue rather than trying to distract or bring eyes to yourself.'"
Maybe legislate your boner, dicknuts.
I know I said I would never post photos from a man's online dating profile, but I feel like you guys will allow me the occasional exception, right?
To reiterate: This is. One of. His online dating profile pics. This is what he's chosen to entice the ladies.
I guess it's better than a dirty-mirror selfie...?
Among the messages I've sent to an OkCupid guy I've been talking to: "That said, it's not as if I'm on a dating site because products from the adult store are handling all my needs. (Curse you menfolk and your bonus features.)"
Honestly... Men? Y'all are the best. I would shake your hand if I didn't so urgently need it under my dress.
Sent by a reader. See also: Current status.
(CAN I fuck while eating cookies? We've already established this week that I can find anything on the Internet. Surely someone on OkCupid is looking to get naked Keebler-elf-style. I won't even make you do it in a tree -- everything on me is over-tender, I couldn't possibly fuck in a tree.) 
The bad news is, I am sick as fuck.
The good news is, depending on the minute, I either sound like Sick Phoebe singing her sultry version of "Smelly Cat" on Friends, or like I could successfully supplement my income by taking a side gig as a phone sex operator. (Is phone sex even still a thing? Probably not. I'm behind the porn ball. No, wait... Ew... But I could totally bring it back. Like flannel shirts. Porny ones...)
Right. So clearly I should be keeping an eye on my temperature, because delirium is setting in.
I've heard this song a bunch of times since That Guy "made it like it never happened and that we were nothing," and I was perfectly fine. But it just came up on my Pandora playlist and suddenly I'm a weepy bitch over it?
Li'l early for PMS, isn't it, Body? Though I suppose that would explain the recent irritability, exhaustion, insatiable libido, and mass consumption of salty, cheesy Mexican food with Girl-Scout-cookie chasers.
This is all fine. (It actually is. It's out of my hands. There's literally nothing I can do except "breathe and reboot." Plus I think I've proven I'm stronger than Weepy Bitch, even if on occasion she IS the one who knocks.)
I was aiming for a quiet, post-work communion with my soulmate, Nachos. But then I saw this, and it was an emergency "Stop, drop, and write" situation. (Not joking: I'm still dressed in work clothes, flopped in dismay on the living room floor, writing this on my phone.)
Ahem. Ready?
OkCupid tells me I'm an 86% match for a guy whose profile says ONLY that he wants a woman who'll watch him jerk off ("JO," to be exact) on Skype. He assures the reader he's good at holding out, and will finish only when she tells him to.
To his chivalrous credit, he does say he'd also do it in person. *swoon* But he lives in Lahaska, PA, about an hour ass-far north of Philadelphia. Why would I drive that far to watch a guy masturbate? (I love that my first concern is the commute.)
Also, there are no photos in his profile of his face or of his penis -- just his fully clothed midsection with a hand resting on his pants-covered junk. How can I possibly know if I'd want to see you do this? I'm sure he'd send them if I asked, but I'm not talking to a dude who's requesting this and then saying he's "not physically perfect." That's code for "I'm about to watch him wrestle a small and noncommittal dick, possibly in his mother's basement."
Would I get to watch his face as well, or is it just a penile situation? Not getting to see his face wouldn't really do much for me...just a dick gone rogue...
Can it progress to sex? Or are you just looking to indulge that one aspect?
Can I masturbate, too? Or do I have just watch you and then... go home? Do I get anything in return? I know you'll finish when I tell you to, but that doesn't feel like enough incentive for me to contact you sight unseen and be like, "Hell. YES. Let's do this, studhorse." If I asked nicely, I could probably watch any guy I date masturbate. Then I'd get to see his face when he finishes, and we could go get pizza or something.
I wouldn't even LET you come, asshat. You should suffer for not being more forthcoming...tee hee...
Honestly, I wouldn't mind watching a guy pleasure himself once in a while if that's what worked for him. I'd get to see how he likes to be touched, and I can understand how that's a kink. I wouldn't mind being watched, but frankly I can masturbate alone, so you'd best step in eventually. But it's SUCH a specific thing to create a whole online dating profile for. That's ALL it says, that he wants to jerk off for a woman. Not even ON -- FOR.
I should commend him for pursuing his dream, really.
But wow, you really CAN find anything on the Internet.
Psst... Hey, audiobook app... That's not romance.
Is there a category for stalky, rapey psychos?
I can't stand first messages on OkCupid that only say, "Pretty."
You obviously think I'm pretty. The subtext of every online dating message is, "Hello. I find you attractive enough that I'd like to apply my penis to you in some way." You could've shouted "pretty" from a moving car -- it's an online catcall. What else ya got?
Similarly, messages that just say "hey" or "hi." What am I supposed to do with that? You may as well have just grunted at me.
I don't have many dealbreakers, but the ability to construct a half-decent sentence is a big one. In the past 5 years I've known three men I could've easily dated and gotten naked with for at least a year. The only thing they had in common was that they were quick-witted, smart, and good conversationalists, which made them IMMENSELY sexy. (OK, fine -- they were also all adept at fingering.) I don't need a writer, I don't need flawless grammar. But I'm turned on by words, and men who use them, especially behind a keyboard, where you have time to craft. So I'm not settling for "hey."
Addendum: As I was writing this post, a first message came in that said, "Hey baby. Mmm" -- sweet merciful shit, are you kidding me? I AM A LADY, MOTHERFUCKER!
Via HelloGiggles: This alarm clock wakes you up with an orgasm.
In the immortal words of Elle Woods, "Excuse me. I have some shopping to do."
And in the words of the friend who sent this to me, "I don't see how it would prevent me from falling back asleep."
Truth. Orgasms are how I GET to sleep half the time.
Still, we agree we should try it for research. For SCIENCE. FOR THE SISTERHOOD.
Oh, fuck you, bath sponges.
I ordered "HIS" out of spite, but really wish I didn't prefer "HERS." 
Another on office attraction...
Um, no, YOU'RE taking a former coworker's LinkedIn post looking for a new job as an opportunity to lure him and his giant hands into your office, OR just to give him your phone number.
Shut up.
I met him at my last job, shook his hand, and immediately wanted to have sex with him. He's literally the only person I've known on sight I wanted to sleep with -- normally it starts with, "I can work with your face and body" and gets more/less intense with conversation. This guy, I don't even care if he has a personality, as long as those hands do things to me.
This may or may not be influenced by the fact that my libido has been on absolute CRACK for the past 5 days. I think I need an actual person, one with weight, so he can, um...get the job done correctly. Silicone's just not working for me anymore.
I don't THINK he's married, but it's been about 18 months since I've seen him, so who knows. He has my number now, though, so he can do with it, and me, whatever he wants.
A happy bonus of having NO game whatsoever is that your boss probably can't tell when you're flirting with him.
(Subtly. I'm not an idiot.)
Seems fitting for Groundhog Day, but with advance apologies to the few readers who emailed me to say I shouldn't waste anymore time in this place...
This is the point in the That Guy cycle when I'm worried we're not actually done -- that I'll let my guard down and then he'll pop up somewhere. It's been a discernible pattern, so much that I'm in a mental fighting stance every time I check any element of my digital existence.
I don't think it's going to happen this time. We weren't exactly kind to each other. And he wasn't trying to resurrect our friendship, which it turns out we never HAD. He was just finally confirming he'd been using my body and affection to make himself feel better, and that I was inadequate in both capacities. (Still a great feeling if you ever get the chance.)
Logistically, I don't see how he COULD pop up. He can still see this page because it's public (everybody wave!). I'm not changing that to avoid one person. (Unless it's, like, Dexter.) But I don't think he's going to "like" anything after I gave him a bunch of shit about liking posts about my body or masturbation.
I think I've taken every other precaution, but I'm still a little on edge. When I stopped speaking to him last New Year's, I don't think a month passed thereafter where he didn't remind me he was checking on me -- a text, blog like, Facebook friend request (to my professional account), a LinkedIn profile view. But I probably said enough that he'll avoid setting off that particular powder keg again.
And we'll just save it for therapy that I still miss him. (Shut UP, I don't KNOW. He told me I "claim dysfunction and use it to explain away being wrong," so...yeah, dibs on that. I was crazy, I thought we were friends -- I was wrong. I'm basically Clarissa right now.)
Oddly, I think I'll relax about all this around Valentine's Day, since that'll be about 6 weeks. I'll aim to spend that day finally unclenched, hopefully in more ways than one, with a movie, a glass of wine, my bombass lasagna, and an obscene quantity of really good chocolate. Ideally with a man under me as well, but I think it'll be a decent day either way. Me and my Valentine "Serenity" -- in all the ways. Shiny.
