sex after marriage

imagesI have an addiction.

I try to hide it.

Convince myself it’s a non-issue.

But the first step is admitting…

So, I’m here to tell the world. I know y’all are assuming it’s Starbucks. Or online shopping! Smoking in my garage when I’m alone, or drinking too much wine? Fuck no. I wish. But my addiction is much bigger than all of those things combined. Hell, it’s bigger than ME. And it affects so many other women across our nation. I am not alone, others feel my pain; understand the demons I fight every, single day.

Other women between the ages of 32-55 to be exact. 

imgresI haven’t been here in a while.

I’m sorry!

I know, I know…

But I’ve been busy.

Life has gotten in the way of well…

Life.

And I’ve been writing for some pretty kick-ass publications! I’m on BLUNTMoms, and SuburbanMisfitMoms. And in the Charlotte Observer! Jesus. I’m legit. Like who woulda thunk it? After three years of writing, I’d actually get paid for spewing my crap. Ha. Well, I only have you all to thank. So, well…thanks. Thank you, from the bottom of my Hurvitz heart. I have a big one, ya know. A super, big…gigantic HEART! Even though I swear like a truck driver, and talk about my vagina, I have a heart. And it really is filled with all kinds of love for you, my readers. And now, I’m here. Back to tell you some really big news!

I have grown up.

Yes, you heard me…I’m a big girl now. After forty-four years of living on this planet I have finally done something right! Besides using the correct fork with my salad…

unknownShampoo.

Rinse.

Conditioner…

Rinse.

Face scrub with the Clarisonic thingy…

Rinse.

I do most of my thinking in my shower. My creating. Actually, I do my choreographing in there, too. Oh, and my writing. I spend a lot of time in the shower. It’s my happy place. I just have peace in there, and quiet. My mind is still…and the water drowns out the other noises in my head. I just think. And compose. I come up with a piece of choreography and I literally figure it out in my brain…then I get out, and its golden. Same with an idea for a blog. I shit you not, it just kinda comes to me. I jump out, and write it on a sticky note pad that I keep in a drawer next to the shower. I know, it’s weird. But aren’t all creative people strange? We are. I know we are, but I don’t care. I am fine with my weirdness. I’ve learned to accept the fact that I just do abnormal shit. I dance in my shower, and talk to myself while I wash my hair. And that is just a-okay in my book.

It took 44 years to accept it…

I am creatively coo-coo.

So, with that said…this morning, I came up with a GENIUS idea whilst shaving! 

imagesMy

period

is

ruining

my

life.

I so wish I was kidding.

I think I’ve written about this before, and now…I’m writing about it again. I just have to do it. I’m so pissed. At myself. Wait, fuck that. I’m pissed at my hormones. And my ovaries. And I’m pissed at my uterus! I swear to Goddess, every 28 days, like clockwork…I could kill someone. Ya, you heard me. I could literally stab a person. The little twit at Starbucks today who almost ran me over racing to her parking spot. I literally got in a fight with her. I was behind her in line, and I said, “You do know, life is too short to be such a fucking bitch.” And the West Elm supervisor who just happened to take my call. I verbally abused her because she wouldn’t take my shitty-ass couches back, fully knowing they’re a final sale. Or how about the guy I was dating last week. Oh, ya. We broke up on Saturday. He totally watched my head spin around and green shit come spewing out of my mouth. I think he’s still crying. I scared the fucking shit out of the poor man. All because of my fucking menstrual cycle.

But it’s not like I didn’t warn him.

I did…