Archive for the ‘The Pilot’ Category

I’m sure that the title of the post woke you up.  Good.  The title was actually to me.  I just don’t want to do anything that would make me disappointed in myself.  Does that make sense?

Yesterday, I attended the wedding of my parent’s two friends.  It was a great time, although I spent most of the reception outside since it was stifling inside the fire hall.  It was so gorgeous outside.  It would take me a week’s worth of posts to describe how much I love this time of year.

After the reception, people were invited back to the happy couple’s house.  My sister and I went for a couple of hours.  We had some food and after eating I felt exhausted.  I got home around 11:30 PM and showered and went to bed.

At 3:30 AM my ringing phone woke me up.  I read the caller ID not quite believing my eyes.  The Pilot?

I answer the phone.  My heart was beating so hard that my whole body felt it.  He sounded a bit drunk which is very odd.  He’s never drunk.  He never loses control.  He hasn’t called me in months.

I ask him what’s going on and he says that has bad news for me.  I can honestly say that I thought he was going to tell me he gave me an STD or something.  What else could he be calling me for?  Especially since I walked away from him the last time I saw him.

But, he doesn’t have an STD or anything like that.  He called to tell me that he’s going to be stationed somewhere else and that he’s leaving in a few months.  I asked him why he felt he had to tell me this at 3:30 AM today when we hadn’t spoken or been in touch in months.  He said that he was thinking about me because it was would have been our 3 year anniversary today.

I totally forgot.

Does that mean I’m finally over him or does it mean that so much has happened in the past few months that I haven’t had time to really think about anniversary’s with exes?

I tell him that I appreciate his call, but I’m tired.  He says to keep in touch.  Yeah right.  If I keep in touch I will be on my knees again, a little pathetic slave to him.  I truly believe that he is like a drug to me.  One taste and I’m hooked again.

I wish that there is an end to this story now.  Maybe when he leaves, I can finally get over him.  Or maybe I’ll meet someone who will fuck the memory of him out of me.

Seriously though, right now I don’t want a relationship with anyone.  All I want is a regular fuck.  Someone who will leave me alone all week and will come over on the weekends for some sex.  I don’t want tenderness or love or promises.  That kind of shit makes me feel tired and drained.  I don’t want emails all week about how much you’re thinking about me.  I just want a phone call saying what time to expect you.

Is that cold?

Anyhow, the phone call ended with me telling him goodbye for good.  I told him that.  Goodbye forever.

So, of course I couldn’t sleep after this.  I’ve been tired all day sitting here in my pjs watching movies and trying not to think about anything involving the Pilot or love or the last time I had sex or the next time I’m going to have sex or………

Coquettishly is updated.  Yes, I know it’s been months.  Maybe if I was getting any, I would be more willing to write about sex.  Or maybe if I write about sex, then the sex will come.  Who knows?

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Last night I was wearing a black pencil skirt, a white tank top, and red high heel sandals. I left my hair a riot of curls and wore very little makeup. I walked into the bar filled with a confidence that hadn’t showed itself in a very very long time. My head was held high. My smile was genuine. My internal fire was on.

I danced until I was glossy with sweat. I had rhythm in my every nerve ending. I felt free. I felt young.

And then I saw you at the end of the bar while the song that always reminded me of you was playing.* It seems to always happen this way, doesn’t it?

My head and shoulders drooped. My smile faltered. My fire went out. I turned my back to you so that you wouldn’t see me. My breath came in as pants. My stomach burned like I had swallowed lye, yet I felt cold all over.

I didn’t feel this way when we were together and yet, the sight of you at that moment had closed everything in me.

But you saw me. I looked back to see you looking at me. The half-smile I love making your mouth look like something I have to kiss or I’d die. I had to fight walking to you. I felt tethered to you like a ribbon to a maypole born to circle you, to wrap myself around you. I was in your gravitation pull, your magnetic field. And I was fighting.

In the end, you came to me. I felt you behind me, warm like a bonfire. You put your hand on my bare shoulder. I could have leaned into you. Lit myself with your warmth, your fire.

But, I knew that your fire isn’t gentle. It burns. It hurts. Like the sun.

So, I closed my eyes and savored the warmth for a few more seconds.

And then I turned my head away.

I pushed your hand off my shoulder.

And I walked away.

I don’t want a sun to orbit around.

Two roads. One difficult, sometimes lonely, bumpy, and without road signs. The other smooth, straight, easy, and comes with a driver.

Even though my shoulder still stings where you touched me. Even though I still feel like I swallowed lye. Even though my chest is still a bit heavy.

I don’t need a pilot anymore.

I’m over this. I keep telling myself over and over and over.

I’m over this.

*You can find the song below. If you know the back story, you’ll know why the song has such meaning.

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I chopped my hair off. I sat down and said, “Cut the fucking mop to my chin.” And she did. I. Fucking. Love. It. Of course one of my male friends expressed extreme disappointment. I told him that he has to get over it. Why do men love long hair on women? Do they realize how much fucking work it is?

They probably love when a women runs her hair up and down his body. Whatever. Close your eyes and let her get a feather duster. Same thing.

I’ll take a picture of the new cut sometime next week. I always like to give a new haircut a week to settle.

I’m not cutting the crotch out of a pair of $70 stockings no matter how much they bind my ass and suffocate my cunt. If I cut a hole, I know that the fucker would run and my stockings would be ruined. I don’t have the money to replace these stockings every fucking week. Unless you people would like to click on the ‘Donate’ button and help a woman out.

The first thing when I got home today was tear my clothes off and lay on my bed free as a bird. It was glorious. Then I remembered I had to pee really bad. I lost the carefree moment after that so I put some clothes on. It was chilly anyhow.

I was thinking about the Pilot today. I haven’t heard from him in so long and I wish that things were different between us sometimes. It’s taken a long time to get to a place where I respect myself enough not to compromise what I want. Yet, I often think about how easy it would be to just throw all of that self-respect and ‘standards’ shit away and just be with him. Or anyone. The Pilot is not good for me. I know this and yet…

I go back and forth until I realize how unhappy I would eventually end up if I put my standards and wants to the side. It would be like going backwards. And remember, I said it’s all about progress. Life, love, dreams, standards, health, intelligence. If I’m not moving ahead, then I might as well give the fuck up and lie down and die. I can’t allow myself to go backward.

But, sometimes I slip. In my daydreams. In the nighttime dreams. That line between doing what’s easy instead of what is right for you. Always there. In everything we do.

Maybe I’m just lonely. It happens, you know?

To remind myself about what I want, I wrote a list. I’m cool like that. I published this list once a long time ago and I’ve included it here again because I think I need to be reminded of the things I really want and who I really am. Getting to the life you want is hard, but it’s better than settling.

Anyhow, this is my “List for Life”. I use this list to keep myself in check. It applies to lovers, friends, family, etc. Enjoy.

1. I want love and comfort. I want to be a wife. I want to be a mother.
2. I will never like or love you as much as I love myself and I expect you to love yourself that much too.
3. I want to laugh at least every hour.
4. I want someone to say goodnight to.
5. I want respect, common courtesy, and manners.
6. I want to be serious.
7. I don’t want be used or toyed with.
8. I want to be kissed on my neck, right below my left ear, every morning.
9. I don’t want you to cheat on me. Ever. I will never forgive it. And yes, I am a hypocrite.
10. Understand that I will need to be alone sometimes and that it has nothing to do with you.
11. I won’t tolerate ignorance. It’s poison to me. I will dump you on the spot.
12. I won’t tolerate being made a fool.
13. If you are pursuing me and you are serious about it, then you shouldn’t be seeing any other women (by ‘seeing’ I mean—kissing, holding hands with, touching the small of her back, smelling her hair, hugging for any other reason other than hello or goodbye). If you are, then you should forget about me.
14. You can expect me to obey #13 too.
15. I need a lot of sex. It’s just who I am. Some people eat a lot of chocolate. I need sex like that.
16. Try not to lie to me. I will try not to lie to you.
17. If you don’t like what I’m doing, tell me at the time. I will do the same. Holding anger in is not good.
18. I want to sit in silence. Comfortable silence.
19. I’m not so tough. I pretend to be. It’s called self-preservation. And it’s an act that I shouldn’t get away with. It’s good to be vulnerable sometimes and you must know me well enough to call me out on this.
20. I’m stubborn. And impatient. And sometimes a bitch.
21. I’m loyal to a fault. I’m protective. I will rip the skin off of anyone who hurts someone I love.
22. I’m hardly ever in a bad mood. I may act cranky or stressed out, but it’s never that deep. I’m usually laughing about it in 5 minutes.
23. I am not a push-over. Never mistake me for that.
24. I’m smarter than I let on. Trust me on this.
25. I might be smarter than you. You will have to be okay with this.
26. The only time I get embarrassed or really scared is when I talk about my feelings or my emotions or when someone gives me presents that are meaningful. Almost nothing else bothers me. Ask me if I love you and I might have a heart attack. Ask me about my bowel movements, I’ll give you my schedule. Give me flowers and I might pass out. Give me a dildo and I might give a demonstration on how to give good head…understand?
27. I am a very giving person. I’m always happiest when I can give someone something special. I like giving cards for no reason and leaving notes around or sending sweet things threw the mail. Of course, I’m an emotional retard when someone does the same for me.
28. I swear a lot. This should not bother you. I know in which social situations I have to use the appropriate words. At home, I will curse like a sailor.
29. I’m not an innocent. I’m not in need of rescue. I’m not going to pretend I am. You should feel strong knowing that I am strong.
30. I remember almost everything—especially the important stuff. The good and the bad. Don’t ever forget that.
31. I don’t like to fight. I don’t like to yell. I believe in peace.
32. Next time I’m feeling obnoxiously sad/confused/hopeless/self-destructive, I will call my mother. She has never lead me astray.

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It’s my favorite holiday!!!!

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I’m dressed as Wicked (witch with green face). I look butt-ugly in that picture, but I’m supposed to be. I placed 4th in the costume contest at work. Some fucking woman with a tail pinned to her ass and ears on won 3rd. I guess it pays to have your friends as judges, but still. It should have been me. 2nd place went to a woman dressed as Steve Irwin with a stingray hanging out of her chest. Holy fucking offensive right. And 1st place went to my work colleague who dressed as the Empire State Building and had his daughter dressed as King Kong. Cuter than cute.

There was a comment on my previous post the Pilot being in the armed forces and I want to explain a bit before all of you peace loving people get pissy about it. The Pilot is a Captain in the Air Force. He wants to be an astronaut. Has wanted to his whole life. He has a MS in Engineering, a MS in Physics, and is working on his PhD in Quantum Physics. He is not a fighter pilot, but a cargo plane pilot. He is also one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. Seriously. I’m in awe of it sometimes. He’s a genuis. So, don’t judge him because he’s in a military that happens to be involved in a pointless war. The war was not his decision. The man wants to be on Mars someday and this is how to do that.

The Pilot is still away, so I’ll be at my mom’s house tonight giving out candy. Yay!!!

And finally, my sister is hanging in there. She is still in danger, but at least she lives near a great women’s hospital. Thanks for all of your thoughts and prayers. We really appreciate it.

Happy Halloween everyone!!!

Remember to visit Coquettishly and send me your questions or use it as a forum to discuss sex and relationships. I’m begging.

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Last night was really great. We got to Warmdaddy’s just in time for the main act to come on. That man poured his heart out in the sweetest melodies while the Pilot and I sipped on our wine. Afterwards, we came back to my apartment and it was detention time. I suppose one shouldn’t enjoy detention as much as I did, but oh well. Detention finished and we held each other for a while and I asked him why he couldn’t become the guy for me. He sighed and then I sighed and we agreed to just enjoy the moment.

I won’t be seeing the Pilot for a couple of weeks as he leaves Monday for somewhere (he doesn’t even know where he’s going until Monday). I think this is a good thing.

I’m quite hungover today. Wine does a number on me anymore. I’m feeling so lazy today. So lazy. It’s a wonder I’m even posting anything, but I’ve surprised myself and have been a busy bee as far as my blogs go.

I’ve turned the blog Coquettishly into a relationship and sex advice blog where anyone can ask me questions about those subjects and I will answer your questions as honestly and thoroughly as I can. I feel confident that I can do a really great job with this. I will be moderating the comments on this blog so that I can protect people’s identities. I’ve posted my first piece of advice, taken from this post, as my first bit of advice.

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The Blues

The Pilot will be here any minute now. We’re going to get drinks at the blues club, Warmdaddy’s, in Philly. Hair and makeup are done. Now I have to put on my dress. Maybe the Pilot will take a picture of me all dressed up. Until then, here are some preliminary pictures of my makeup and my straight hair. That’s right people….straight hair. It looks quite good.

This is the first time the Pilot and I have been on a proper date since our first date. I’m not sure what’s going on, since it was his idea but I know we’re going to have a wonderful time. I love this blues club and it’s been a while since I’ve been there.

Enjoy the pictures (click for larger image):

Beware of kitty!!!!

See…straight hair. I really suck at taking pictures but you get the idea.

My smokey eyes.

I like this picture and I’m not sure why.

And then later…..

I will be wearing these to detention. Cause I’ve been very bad…..

Smooches sweeties!!!

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He’s right here

I’m very angry with myself right now. Guess who’s sitting right here on my couch watching TV with me? Come on, guess. Yup. It’s the Pilot. Wanna know what he’s doing here?

Hanging out. Yup. That’s right. Hanging out.

He knows I’m writing on my blog right now. I’m giving him my evil eye. He reads this blog. I’m not hiding how I feel. I refuse to. I’ve already told him I have no idea what I’m doing and that I don’t want to date him. I want someone who can commit. I want someone who will let me be a part of his life. And it isn’t him. I know this. But here I am, sort of dating him. He’s been here a couple times this week. I haven’t told anybody, but I can’t keep this a secret. He’s here. He brought an overnight bag.

Why am I so weak when it comes to this man? Is it because he looks like Neil Patrick Harris? Is it because we have such great sex that I’m surprised that the whole East Coast doesn’t hear us? Is it because he’s really smart and I learn about cool stuff from him? Is it because I’m a dumbass?

Probably. Who the fuck knows?

I just told him that we aren’t dating and he laughed at me. It’s not funny.

Um….yeah. Feel free to give me your opinions. I can take it. I know this is stupid.

In other news, I reached out to someone today. Someone I used to be friends with. Someone I miss. I have no idea if that person will respond to my reaching out. I hope so. If not, I can’t say that I didn’t try. It’s hard for me to think that this person is so cold that he/she would ignore me or tell me to fuck off. But what do I know?


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Well people, I suppose that I should tell you all what I really did this weekend. I wasn’t going to post this at all but after talking with my coworker/friend Lisa, I changed my mind.

Some of you may be mad at me.

Some of you may applaud me.

Some of you may judge me.

But I don’t give a fuck.

Here’s the story:

Saturday night I was bored and restless. I turned down an invite to go to Philly for some drunken fun. My friends were going to some lame-ass club and really…I’m too cool for that. So, yes I was sitting home watching cheesy scary movies and drinking tea. I was also IM’ing a fellow blogger because she was also home. When the phone rings. And it’s the Pilot.

Now, before I go any further I want you all to know that I had every intention of being a tough bitch. Because it was 10 PM and I know what he wanted. Then I heard that voice and I thought about that perfect cock of his. So, I wrapped up the IM’ing and continued talking to him.

I’m not one for fuck friends, one night stands, or any of that bullshit but I’ll make an exception for the Pilot because he was the best I’ve ever had and because I know him. And he knows me. But don’t think it’s boring because we are both quite creative. Honestly, you have no idea the shit that I come up with to make sex the most fun. I should sell my ideas.

Anyhow, I agreed to his coming over and 30 minutes later he was taking off my clothes. And it was perfect. Because he hardly talked. Because we just got down to it. Because we played for about 7-8 hours. Because when it was over he just left.

There was no baggage. No talk of getting back together. No promises of another meeting. No nothing. Just sex. I got what I wanted from him. And it was exactly what I needed. No strings, no bullshit.

I feel alive and like myself again.

He did email last night to see if we can make this a regular thing, but I haven’t responded to him. Making it a regular thing would mean that ‘something’ is going on between us and I don’t want that. I’ve told you all before that I know exactly what I want and he’s not it.

Thank the heavens.

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