I don't fart, I whisper in my panties

Being older and wiser has become two totally separate issues for me. I heard many wise woman quote they wish they had known back then what they know now while still looking as good as they did back then, of course. Well my skinny and my fat comes with the same insecurities. “Oh my God!! Look how I look. Please don’t let him expect to see me completely naked”. This was when I was hot hot hot and super skinny. Now I’m like “Oh my God!! Look how I look. Please don’t let him expect to see me completely naked”.

I cannot speak for most women, but my understanding of getting older meant that I would become more confident and really, I did not. I think now I have learnt to say “I don’t give a fuck what people think” when actually I do. I’m 33 what the hell do I really know. Perhaps just a tad more than I did at 23, and just a little bit more than I knew at 13 and slightly more than I knew at 3. What I do know is that I should perhaps have less of a memory than I do have.

I think this is where I want to go with this piece.

Knowing what men like and seeing their reactions to these beautifully crafted woman makes me wonder, since I don’t like to settle for less, why should they settle for something less than they really want. Yip, thinking this way act as no assistance to my current state of mind, which is screaming “you going to be alone FOREVER!!”

I know that I want to be loved unconditionally. I don’t want to have to not fart or burp. Ok I don’t drink beer anymore, but I want him to be cool with the beer drinking me. I am rough around the edges. For goodness sake I bite off my nail polish use cotton to floss my teeth and pick at my in grown hairs with my eyebrow tweezers. I want to be loved and respected even when my ass blows a gasket from eating too much Indian food. I don’t want to have to run the basin tap on super hydro, dispense too much soap while squirting fireworks from my ass. 
I want something real and I want to be able to be real. I don’t know how to be this superficial well to do person. And just because own and love girly bags does not mean I have my shit together. I want to be ok with being wrong. It’s rare, but it has been known to happen every decade or so. I’m not saying that I want a totally gross relationship where we greet each other with farts, but I just want something real, while still wholesome and sexy. Am I asking too much?

I just know that I cannot be this Hollywood representation of a woman. I am a real woman, with real fears and insecurities who sometimes pee’s a little when she sneezes and swears like a sailor and cries for cute TV ads with little kids in them. I am a real woman with daddy issues and a very tricky mommy relationship. I am a real woman who goes to the toilet to adjust the boob bag and pull the panty out of her ass. I am a real woman who walks really badly because her tights is torn between her thighs. I am a real woman who loves passionately, protects fiercely and reacts irrationally.

I am a real woman God damn it!

Rules of Engagement

I have found that the most honest of all relationships are the purely physical ones. For fear of a relationship evolving into feelings and complications, partners tend to be bluntly honest. Not necessarily respectfully honest. I don’t really know how others do this and what other partnership rules are, but for me it’s honest, easy and not too feely feely. There is a mutual respect for availability and zero pressure. Arrangements are made through simple texts: date, time & place. It’s convenient, if it's the kind of thing you into.

Cum Prepared

Condoms, Condoms, Condoms. You both know it’s a hook up so let’s not be irresponsible, unless you the kinda girl who cuts off her nose, as the saying goes. Keep some condoms handy, just in case he is not smart enough to bring for rounds two and three.

The most important prep is general cleanliness and neatly trimmed private bits.

There is no need to dress up. This in not the movies where we spend thousands of Rands on sexy catnip outfits for someone we are only shagging. This is real life people, clean undies that you can take off quickly is perfect. A bra is optional. Brushed hair is also optional, but brushed teeth is an absolute must. Ain't no way I'm sucking on your supper!

Always be honest about expectations. If it’s just sex then that it is and if you are hoping for more, then firstly, you are reading the wrong blog and secondly, date don’t shag!

The hook up

A little small talk, a how was your day and off to carnal headbutting heaven we go.

After the hook up

I think it’s only fair, after that award winning performance, that he manages the used condom situation. That shit has to be discarded. Perhaps not right away, hopefully you are both still catching your breath.

Some sweet thanks and praises is nice not necessary unless you are hoping for a next time. It's always best to stroke more than just his penis.

Just enough small talk will take place in waiting for the right moment to leave or to be asked to leave.

Small talk before the exit

I guess there are a few things that should not be discussed at the after party, this is my HELL NO! list:

Mothers; Other lovers; Hopes & Dreams.

HELL NO!!

This is meant to be a casual encounter and so it should remain. If you want more then you reading the wrong blog and you should be dating, not shagging!

Final Act

The farewell is sweet and simple, squeeze in a thanks or two. No promises.

A quick shower before bed. No worries or stress until you have to hit the snooze button in the morning.

Exit!

The Scale

In these times you have to be an optimist to open your eyes when you awake in the morning – Carl Sandburg

This statement was written, I do not claim to know when, but it was written before he died in 1967. Makes me wonder, fearfully, if times do change at all. Well yes so many things have changed since then, but personal challenges remain the same throughout the times. And no amount of smart phone, pocket book apps can take way from the anxiety of having to raise a family and juggle a career.

Even finding a healthy balance of work and play is ridiculously stressful and complicated. Finding the most convenient gym, enough sports for the kids, a healthy diet. The balancing of schedules and the careful growing of  healthy stable motivated minds.

There is however that moment, that very small window of peace. Just before you lift your head from a half night’s sleep. When there are no kids, no budget balancing. Where the world is pure and your breathing is even. Where homework books don’t need to be signed and lunch does not need making. Where your response to a 10 year old boy is just a response and not a well worded emotionally reassuring age appropriate response. Where there are no deadlines and no workplace power struggles. Aaaaah that split second moment. It moves swiftly from your mind and your grasp, but that moment does exist in the dullness between sleep and wake. It’s a silver lining moment and is so microscopic, we often miss it.

We are eager to reel ourselves head first, back to our high speed marathon, thinking that if we execute every task at the speed of light it won’t be back tomorrow. Without even a pause for regret or to smile at the sun kissing your face. I wish I were wise enough to let the small things slide and be still even through the noise. I wish I were wise enough to know that even though, not every moment has purity and quiet, I am allowed more peace than the quiet between slumber and wake.