I want flowers.  Pretty ones.  They don't have to be roses or a big expensive bouquet.  I just want flowers.  Brought to me.  That I don't have to pay for."

For anyone that knows me, this must seem quite confusing.  Flowers are a "relationshippy" (yes, it's a word in my world) type thing.  And, I am as far from relationshippy as you can get.  But, that doesn't mean I don't want to be treated like a girl.

What happened to the days when a guy would bring you flowers on a date?  And pick you up at your place and drive you where you were going.  When did it get to the point of "I'll meet you there" and "let's split the bill" and other such nonsensical things.  Don't get me wrong - this helps me in the getting laid department and I do not seem like quite the freak of nature that I would otherwise, but I think there is something to be said for traditional dating.  So, someone bring me flowers, dammit!

I wish I was having sex.  And I don't necessarily mean right now.  I just mean in general. 

The other night, the girls and I found this WONDERFUL sex shop called the Wicked Chamber in Newport Beach.  It was chock full of toys and costumes and whips and wigs and... well, you get the idea.  And the owner and employees were a lot of fun.  They talked with you and helped you and showed you things... it was a great experience.

But, then there was the downside.  The girls I was with were each trying to decide what to buy to take back and use with the man in their life.  I, on the other hand, just looked in awe at all of the lovely products and realized that I had no use for any of them.

This is not to say that I was a boyfriend or husband like they have.  I don't.  But, some regular sex would be nice.  I mean, who wouldn't like to be a frequent customer at a place called the Wicked Chamber?

The day before I left for my holiday trip, I went to visit a friend.  I took a lovely item with me in the form of a feather for... my extracurricular activities.

In the morning, I tried to take all of my items out of my suitcase, as they didn't need to come with me on my trip.  But, I couldn't find my feather in the dark.  So, I just closed my suitcase and went on my merry way, figuring that it would not matter.  But it did.

After arriving at my destination, I promptly sprained my ankle.  The next day, my mother asked what I needed to have ironed.  I mentioned that my outfit for the evening was wrinkled, but that I would get it for her (knowing what was there in my suitcase right next to my skirt).  But, of course she would not let me go upstairs to get it because of my ankle.

At this point there was nothing that I could do.  Later, when I did go upstairs, there the feather was, sitting right on top of the pile in the suitcase.  My only hope now is that she had no idea what it was...

Recently, Joe and I went on a little trip to the Midwest to celebrate Thanksgiving with the fam.  I think he had more fun than I did...

  Here's Joe getting ready for bed after a long day on airplanes and in airports.

Where's the turkey ma?

Playing a little pool to work off all those turkey calories.

Phew - what a long day of shopping after hitting all the after-Thanksgiving sales!

Rock Chalk Jayhawk!  What a game, what a game!

Taking a nap on the plane ride home.

Wow!  What an exhausting weekend!

I have a new friend.  His name is Joe.  He is a plastic penis.

It all started at a bachelorette party.  That is when he came in to my life.  Now he travels with me and keeps me company. 

This week's saga starts with the bachelorette party where we first meet Joe.  He is just en fuego...

The other night I was out with my girlfriends at a bar.  I am broke and cannot afford to drink at the moment, so I became the designated driver.  This allowed my two friends to get just blasted.

One of these friends is the type of girl that gets hit on everywhere she goes.  She is super petite and cute.  She can essentially have her pick.  But, this night, her judgement was clouded.  She picked a guy that was not really her type and was slightly less than attractive.  She spent a good deal of time with the boy, especially while we were waiting for her as we were leaving.

On the way home, she began to ask us if the boy was attractive.  She had simply been too drunk to be able to tell.  Ahhhh... the power of alcohol...

If a girl goes on a date with a guy, and she calls him, and he does not return her call, she will get the hint.  With the exception of the psycho girl, a girl will likely not call more than two times without a return call without knowing that the guy was just not in to her.

This is not true for boys.  ecently, I have had a few boys that have called and called and called.  They leave messages that I don't return.  I do not answer their calls.  Yet, they keep calling.  Sometimes 6 months after I have last heard from them. 

I know I should tell these boys I don't want to see them any more.  But, I simply can't bring myself to do it.  I'm a chicken.  I will admit it.  But, because women take a hint, I assume that men will do the same.  Maybe I just need to find different men...