internet dating

‘Scuse Me, My Kitty Would Like to Get Stoned

Posted on by akiwifreund

My ears perked up when I heard that this was a real product being marketed. They calmed down again when I realized that since Minnesota has the strictest laws in the country regarding medical marijuana that it’s likely I won’t get my hands on any until maybe a decade from now.

The problem: I have horrific abdominal pains because I’m having an allergic and autoimmune reaction to the drainage catheter of my shunt. I’ve had this pain since July 11, 2011, the day my very first shunt was implanted. The neurosurgeon saw the inflammation with his own eyes during one of my subsequent surgeries.

If it’s a good day, I can’t bear to have my abdomen pressed on. The last time my PCP prodded my abdomen, I had tears leaking out of my eyes – and not because I am conjuring the pain up. I also have issues with using the bathroom no matter what is coming out of me. I can only tell you that it feels as if someone has inserted a knife into any and all of my openings and is waving it around like it’s a #1 fan hand at a football game. If it’s a really bad day I also have waves of pain rolling over me. One time I was crossing the street to go back to my apartment and my sister was helping me carry a few items, and she heard me gasp as if I witnessed a really bad accident. Nope. I just was suddenly overtaken by the stabbing pains. And there’s just no way for me to predict when I’m going to get hit by an 11 pain (because according to Spinal Tap, that’s the loudest). Could be because I’m breathing.

The solution? I’ve been told I will not be given opioids because they would just mask the pain. (My answer is always yes, please, I would like to not have the pain.) Tylenol, Advil and naproxen sodium are child’s play. I’ve also been put on various anti-depressants and gabapentin. I’ve tried ice or heat. I’ve tried stretching out my hips. Meditation is probably good for something, but so far has not made me feel better about having the stabbing pains.

This product is being marketed for women with pelvic pain that is the result of endometriosis and/or menstrual cramps. I wouldn’t even have to consume something, just insert that capsule like a suppository for the kitty and then lie back and let it do its thing. If it can work for those issues, why can’t it work for my stabby-stabby pains? Maybe I wouldn’t dread going to the bathroom too. Sexual relations? I would say hell yes, it probably will give new meanings to “420-friendly” and “Netflix ‘n chill.” I can just see the Craigslist ad now: “Fun lady with a great sense of humor looking for my partner in crime to experiment with my totally legal 420 vaginal inserts. Bring some Funyuns, just in case.”
http://www.kevinmd.com/blog/2016/02/vaginal-marijuana-menstrual-cramps-really-work.html

 

Hannibal

Posted on by akiwifreund

This fear of cannibalism could explain why some dates have cancelled on me in the past few months. Seriously, just because I believe in feminist values doesn’t mean that I wish anyone ill will. On the other hand, fava beans and a nice chianti…

http://www.cnn.com/2016/02/15/us/seattle-aquarium-octopus-mating-canceled/index.html?sr=fbCNN021516seattle-aquarium-octopus-mating-canceled1054AMStoryLink&linkId=21272696

one billion rising

Posted on by akiwifreund

Source: one billion rising

With so many women affected by dating and relationship abuse, you would think we would have worked out a better way to raise awareness (and boys to men who don’t believe they have the right to use and abuse women’s bodies however they see fit). But here it is. I guarantee you, if not you, then more than just a few women in your life have experienced violence at the hands of a date or partner.

We’ve Got a Live One Here

Posted on by akiwifreund

Just as a reminder, this is the very first few lines of my slimmed-down, to-the-point profile:

*******I’M ALLERGIC TO:********

– Hookups, FWB, DTF

Got a message from a guy with a picture of a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
Him: Interested in something casual?
Me: In the first line of my profile, I said I’m not into FWB or DTF.
Him:  Okay. I just found you attractive and wanted to make sure I wasn’t an exception. I will leave you alone.

Did you catch that? I’m not sure if he thought he could be the exception because he found me attractive (is it too much to ask that every man who wants to bang me finds me at least moderately attractive?), or if he thought waving his penis as bait was going to change my mind, because so many men don’t think to do that?

This also seems to be a case of, “Oh, you don’t really mean ‘no.’ I mean, there’s no way you could actually know what you want, because you haven’t met my penis yet.”

Lemme Tell You a Wake-Up Story

Posted on by akiwifreund

Warning: Adult Language

The Shit Theory

Nashville (https://thesickandthedating.com/2016/01/18/i-saw-another-ghost/) sent me messages saying, “I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me.” When I asked him why he ghosted me, he just said, “Don’t be mad” again. He “hates to fight.” Then he said he didn’t call me back for a few weeks because he “had his dog.” Zero explanation, unless that dog dials his phone for him. No response at all to my repeated asking of why he disappeared. I even resorted to saying, “Did my infection make you uncomfortable?” I mean, seriously, I would say the words for him if he couldn’t. But he couldn’t even respond to that. So I told him that if he can’t communicate with me, then there’s no point in seeing each other anymore.

I know he’s sleeping right now because he wakes up right before he has to go in for his third shift hours. When he wakes up, if he gets all whiny again, I’ve decided I’ll have to lay the shit theory on him. It’s something I’ve thought up just this afternoon that I think will explain what I see happening and what I think he needs to do.

Most of us who have had chronic illnesses for years (or even decades) are familiar with the “spoon theory” that a very clever woman came up with on the fly to teach her good friend about what it’s like to have a chronic condition that greatly affects the quality of life. Sufferers have even self-identified as “spoonies,” which makes it hella easy to find each other online.

I don’t expect this theory to find the same fame, but it would be funny if it did.

Okay, let’s say Nashville got up from a full 7 hours of sleep and did his business in the toilet, including a #2. (I know dudes are super regular like that, all of them that I’ve lived with are like clockwork.) But instead of flushing his shit down the toilet, he reaches down into the bowl and picks up the shit. He looks around the bathroom, and then he starts smearing. He gets a good amount on the floor and the shit cakes up a bit in the grout between the tiles. He also goes for the walls – big smears, maybe some letters. He even saves some shit for the sink and the dookie gets into the joints of the faucet handle. Nashville stands there for a minute, looks at the shit on his hands and fingers, and then yells for me. I come to the door, take one look and I say, “What the fuck, Nashville? Why did you smear shit all over the bathroom?” He says, “Don’t be mad at me. I have to go watch my dog wag her tail.” I say again, “Why the fuck did you smear shit all over every single part of the bathroom instead of just flushing it down the toilet like a healthy person?” Nashville says, “I don’t want you to be mad at me. Can you stop being mad at me? I love my dog.”

Nashville (as well as many people in general) claims he hates chaos. Chaos = shit, in this story. He could have just flushed the shit down the pipes. In other words, if you don’t want chaos, then don’t bring it into your world. You have a choice. If you choose to reach down into the bowl, cradle it in your hands and start smearing it around, it’s not okay to 1. Keep doing it until it’s in every nook and cranny of your life (no matter how much you B.S. yourself that you’re keeping it separate), and 2. Ask for someone to clean up the shit that you chose to spread. Certainly don’t ignore it (as Nashville did when he ignored my questions). All it’s gonna do is dry where it sits and be even harder to clean (aka all I’m going to do is get pissed, and he’s STILL going to have to deal with it). Sometimes a person has to hire a plumber (psychiatrist, psychologist or counselor) to help figure out clogs in the pipes (brain), but it’s better to take care of that sort of thing before the problem becomes completely out of control.

So, Nashville, the moral of the story is: Clean up your own shit.

The End

 

 

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Creeper

Posted on by akiwifreund

I’ve been on an opera kick this week. Puccini is my absolute favorite composer, so I’ve had that station going all week while I have read articles, organized my taxes, and for the first time have colored in my “adult coloring book.” I’m a little slow on trends sometimes.

I often don’t understand the meaning of the songs because who here speaks fluent Italian? Not I. But it certainly adds a little flavor to my tasks. Also, it’s the funniest thing to run across some slow-motion films of dogs wiping out in the sand or attempting and failing to catch treats or toys in their mouths – so dramatic when Maria Callas is wailing!

I was feeling very passionately that my OKCupid profile needed another revamp. Guys don’t care what I’m doing with my life or which books I’ve read or if I know all of the cool places to eat. They just want to know if I will go hunting and fishing with them (welcome to Minnesota) and if I can hook my ankles behind my ears. So I took all that crap out. This is what my profile says now:

MY SELF-SUMMARY
*******I’M ALLERGIC TO:********

– Hookups, FWB, DTF
– Threesomes, foursomes or moresomes
– All animals furred or feathered (even “hypoallergenic” animals), though I love them
– Misogynistic behavior
– Bad behavior and excuses
– Cheaters, liars, thieves
– Poor dental hygiene
– Conspiracy theorists
– Stalkers
– Contemporary country music, rap
– Republicans
– Being called “cutie”
– Organized religion or prayer

The most private thing I’m willing to admit

I don’t get out as much as I would like to because of some major health issues.

You should message me if

– You are a non-smoker (of all things) and don’t use chew/snuff (ever)
– We live in the same country; my preference is to connect with someone in the same metro area because I dislike long distance relationships.
– You know and use proper grammar, spelling and punctuation.
– You would like me to proofread your profile for grammar, spelling and punctuation errors.

Almost immediately after posting these bullet points, a guy hit me up and said I was hilarious, and unfortunately, he was a hardcore Catholic and a Republican – but he really appreciated my sense of humor. We ended up having a really good chat through the site. He talked about his daughters, and how one of them was living with him as well as a nearly 2-year-old grandson. We chatted about the intricacies of finding and keeping a job that could pay the bills without the need to add another job. We talked a little bit about my disease and how it affected my ability to be social.

In all, a respectful, flowing conversation happened. Then I got an unexpected but very welcome call from my close friend in Arizona, and told the guy that I couldn’t chat because of the phone call. He said that was fine and posted his number, and I replied back with mine. He asked if I would be interested in a date. I thought what the hell, if we get along, we both could include each other in our circle of friends.

My call with my friend was pretty lively. She told me about the difficulties she had with men she had dated (or really, had minimal contact with) who kept calling and texting, even though she wasn’t interested and told them so. She told me how one had briefly been a professional MMA fighter, and took it upon himself to put her in a choke hold and then forced her to the floor. Another was a guy who couldn’t seem to accept the fact that she had gotten into a relationship with someone else instead of him, and even agreed to a double date so my friend could introduce him to our other friend – until he realized that my friend was also bringing her boyfriend.

My advice was that she must use small words and tell them why she is cutting them off, and then cut them off. First, they are not respecting her boundaries, and she does not owe them anything. Second, she needs to get her mind out of the space where women are required to be people pleasers and make sure they don’t anger men. That anger rears its ugly head when men think they are simply entitled to women’s bodies. How dare we reject them?

After we ended our call, I texted the dude and apologized for taking longer than I had planned. He called me “cutie” with a smiley face, just to piss me off. The next thing he did was tell me how beautiful my eyes are. I thanked him and told him I appreciated his complement, but I put more value in values than I do appearance. We discussed options for activities where I wouldn’t be up and out for too long (hopefully longer than a high five).

And then Hidden Creeper came out.

I was trying to discuss meeting places with him, and he kept talking about my appearance and how “cute” I am and that he just couldn’t help it. Then he asked me if he could kiss me.

In my head I was saying, “Hold on there, buddy – where in the hell did this come from, Mr. I’m-a-Hardcore-Catholic?” It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that him talking about kissing me is his code for testing me to see if he can go balls deep. It happens all of the time.

I told him that if we both felt attracted to the other person, then sure, we can have a smooch. But I also told him that I didn’t want to discuss it further, because it has been my experience that if all you do is talk about what you want to do with the other person once you have entered their personal space, and then you actually meet, it doesn’t end well. Sometimes there’s no attraction from one or both parties. but then they feel obligated to ______ because it was talked about. I told him that I wanted to make sure we’re not getting ahead of ourselves.

He replied with, “Ok sounds good” and then stopped texting me. So I still have no idea if this date is going to happen, but my guess is that it won’t.

I feel the change in personality happened as soon as we started communicating off of OKCupid and that is because he knows I could easily block him there and he would have no idea how find me. Luckily I can push his calls and texts to spam if I get some on my cell, but he doesn’t know that. I just feel sorry for his daughters. He revealed to me that his oldest daughter moved back in with him because she’s 24, has a 2-year-old, is kind of lost, and the baby’s daddy is an asshole who took off. I want to shake him and say, “He took off because you didn’t teach your daughter how to value herself, or she may never have let him in in the first place.”

Being able to look at everything and process it in a much healthier way than I have in the past is my present to myself. I’m not perfect, but I’m getting better. I wish everyone else luck, would like to remind you that it sometimes takes effort to get on the right track, and keep holding yourself and other people accountable.

Seek And Ye Shall Find

Posted on by akiwifreund

Yesterday didn’t strike me as being especially significant. It wasn’t a holiday and my rare disease wasn’t cured, so…

Okay, first of all, I’m paying more attention to the things that bring people to this little blog – and I do mean little. Six months ago I was lucky to get three visitors in a single day. Now my number of visitors is increasing because of the ways that I am networking with other bloggers and the content that I am including.

Nothing could prepare me for some of the search terms indicated by the program, though. (You’re welcome.)

*where does horny women hang in nashville
*fragile handle with care advertise porn
*pantyhose kik names
*stocking fetish social sites in India

Congratulations, and let your freak flag fly. There’s no way for me to identify the people making these searches. I have to point out, though – no one searched for hot, bald, unmarried women?? I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve been proposed to by a total stranger. I hope that issue remedies itself shortly.

In the evening yesterday I took the short bus to a guided meditation session held in a health crisis center. I wasn’t sure how it would go because I tend to just kind of throw my hands up in the air and then rush onto the next thing, whatever that is, to keep my brain stimulated because I get bored easily. During the actual meditation, which really only lasted about 20 minutes, I had to fight against dozing off twice, and luckily I didn’t snore or accidentally pas gas.

Twice I saw an orb rise out of a pool. I only “saw” it to the left of my left eye. I told some of the attendees during our recap about my experience and let them know that their vibes had a specific effect on me. One woman asked me if I had always been able to read strangers’ energy. I have, but I have never really put effort into following through on what I read; usually I push it away or ignore it, which is actually very destructive because then everything gets a free pass into my life and I end up hip deep in crap.

Whatever happened, the universe made a connection appear for me. My short bus driver made a stop after mine to pick up a lady in a wheelchair. She greeted me when she was lifted into the van, and immediately we started chatting. I asked her if she had just come from a dance performance because the building she had come out of was a theater specifically set up for that purpose. The answer was no, in fact; she was on the board for VSA Minnesota, the “state organization on arts and disability” (I got that from the website).

I told her a bit about my arts background as well as what I’m doing now (which is admittedly very little because my days are consumed by endless doctor appointments), and she gave me three organizations to get involved with besides her own to network, meet new people, be creative, and maybe even apply for a grant in my area of interest.

To the casual observer, this may not seem to be a big deal. It just drove home to me the fact that this state is so much more inclusive than where I moved from. I never, ever would have had so many resources to access for my particular physical challenges if I would have stayed in Arizona. I wouldn’t have been able to even ride the short bus because of their strict rules regarding who should be allowed to ride.

Really, meeting and speaking to that woman last night helped to open my eyes to the fact that even though I’ve got these major problems, I might actually be able to find a group of people who can see art where others may only see injury and illness. I am still working on retraining my brain to accept this as my new reality because the doctors have refused to keep operating on me. I still really miss driving my car while harmonizing at the top of my lungs.

Movin’ On Up!

Posted on by akiwifreund

I’ve been added to this network for bloggers who are focused on chronic illness. I am hoping to continue entertaining everyone with my stories about doctors, dating and down time (because I’m in bed for at least 22 hours a day). Occasionally you may see product reviews or ads, but please know it’s still me and my voice and my forthrightness about what is happening in my world.

Many thanks to the creators and curators of Chronic Illness Bloggers for directing traffic and addressing specific needs, and allowing me to take part in it.

Here is the home page:  http://chronicillnessbloggers.com/

Chelsea Handler Is My Soul Mate

Posted on by akiwifreund

I just finished watching season 1, episode 1 of the series “Chelsea Does” titled “Chelsea Does Marriage.”

Okay, there are a few ways in which we are not so similar. First, she’s a well-known star. Me, I’m lucky if my sister’s dogs remember me. Second, she can drink like a fish. I can’t because I have all of these crazy diseases (but just for the record, Chelsea, in my 20s and early 30s, I could have kept up swimmingly). Third, she’s not a fan of “fatties.” Since I’m stuck in bed, I’m the opposite of skinny, and I am severely limited on physical activity.

But here is how we are so similar: First, we share the same first name (and it’s spelled correctly). Second, we are very close in age; I’m actually 9 months older than her. Third, we both are very outspoken. Fourth, our father figures have told us and the men we have dated – if we like the men enough to bring them around, which rarely happens – that we are very strong women, and require a strong man.

Getting into the particulars, Chelsea and I feel the same way about the wedding dress, the wedding ceremony, and what comes before and after the big day – we just don’t get it. I never imagined a wedding day or what I would wear as a dress or even what it would be like to want to be hitched to someone for the rest of my life. I was lucky enough to be asked to be a part of the wedding party when two good friends got married, but it was very non-traditional. She wore a black dress, we went shopping for her black knee-high boots, and her wedding march music included “Flash’s Theme” by Queen. He wore a nice button-down shirt and even got a haircut for the big day. I think how my friends treated their special day was about the same level as I would want mine.

Chelsea and I have done a lot of dating and have had a lot of sex. In fact, I felt a little sorry for her because by my calculations of when the show was being taped, I was actually getting more ass than she was. That just goes to show that men have no standards – I mean, c’mon, I’m a bald woman who is confined to bed for about 22 of every 24 hours, and guys still wanna slip me the mickey.

But we’re kind of getting to the point in our lives (and Jesus H., don’t say it’s because we’ve hit 40) that we want to see how different our lives would be if we actually had someone in our corner. And we also want to be the type of people to say, “Yes, I love ______ deeply and he is my best friend.” We need strong men who aren’t going to act all butt hurt about everything that makes us us. We don’t want to be life coaches. We want men to be comfortable in their own skin and to look around and say, “Oh, I’m going to take care of this” instead of us having to beg, plead and bully someone to put on his big boy pants and do it, and do it right the first time.

Chelsea, I totally get it on Eric Bana. He is very masculine and he loves his wife deeply, and he doesn’t let anyone cross the line or share that space he saves for his wife. I think that when spouses are that loving, we see a certain relaxation in their faces. I’m not saying that I imagine their lives are perfect or they have no struggles. I’m saying that they know that if shit goes down, they have this life partner who is going to go through the shit with them instead of making a run for the life boats. Ultimately, we want someone to have that same look with us, and we want to see it on our own faces for a change.

By contrast, we are turned off by men who are overeager. We smell insincerity as if it’s a noxious blend of Avon perfume and cigarettes. We know when men are rubbernecking to make sure there isn’t somebody better than us lurking around that they might rather hook up with, and we simply don’t have time for that. We also don’t deserve to be abandoned.

The love we give to the men who truly deserve it is hard-earned. Chelsea and I have sharp tongues and a very thin filter. Fellow humans give us our best material, so men, if you fail us, your fall will be very painful. If you live up to the task, it will be like seeing the sun for the first time.

I don’t know about Chelsea, but I’m still taking applications.

Lastly, <sigh>, here is an article where the reporter tried to put Chelsea in a box. “Is this reality television or a documentary?” I would choose neither. Just let it be.

http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2016/01/chelsea-does-netflix-review/426951/

A Step In The Right Direction

Posted on by akiwifreund

There’s a little release party going on for Barbie, and it signals a change in awareness and acceptance. Hooray for that! All of those years of articles explaining that Barbie’s measurements would leave her on all fours with missing ribs to account for her mind-blowing tiny waist have finally been heard. Barbie will come in petite, tall and curvy, as well as different hair colors and skin tones to be a more realistic reflection of our American society.

http://nytlive.nytimes.com/womenintheworld/2016/01/28/meet-barbie-in-her-new-forms-petite-tall-curvy/

I quite like Quartz in general for human interest stories, including the Barbie makeover. Here is their take on it (and incidentally, whomever dressed Barbie in the first shot should be shot, because the cutesy tank top says “Be Your Self,” with no hyphen to indicate that it should be “yourself,” as in, one word with a hard return between syllables):

Curvy, petite, and tall Barbies will do nothing to empower our girls

I think they may have felt a little pressure and saw true competition from the Lammily doll, which was created through a crowd funding site and is now going into large-scale production. The Lamilly has far more realistic measurements, flat feet and honorable career outfits. I hope that the “new” Barbie doesn’t push the Lammily out of the market. Options must be celebrated, and small businesses supported. It shouldn’t take crowd funding to get a sensible role model to girls and boys for mass consumption. Every little message we send out into the universe regarding women’s bodies, who owns them and who has a right to dictate what they should look like makes a difference in how children create their own values. Why not embrace inclusive standards rather than exclusive? (BTW, some of the pics on the Lammily site depict girls reflecting on periods – something you’ll never see Barbie doing, but every female with a functioning uterus and ovaries goes through. Why not make it a safe and open topic?)

http://lammily.com/

Just as a side note, I happened to access my blocked call list today because I had to add another solicitor in my phone (they always find a way to get around the “Do Not Call” government list), and I noticed that Nashville called yesterday. That was the first time in three weeks. I guess he got tired of being milked for money by the fake profile Russian and Chinese “girls.” He’s going to keep singing the same song about how he’s never broken up with anyone, and he just doesn’t understand what’s going on. Sure ya do, Nashville. You got caught jerking off. Here, I’ll get you a Barbie doll…………