A Little Bit Of Childhood – Or – How To Become A Tough Adult

I’m now talking to the kids, teenagers, and the ones who one day want to become teens, young adults, and millennials. I’m talking to those wimps who have no clue that one can grow up without having everyone (namely, the parents) fighting for them while they lean back and continue playing on their computers and not do anything…

Courtesy of Google.com

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We and I very consciously talk about that group of people, born before 1980, we didn’t have what you have today – what did we have? Nothing, after the war! We had nothing! (And I know exactly who of you is laughing now and got the joke!) 😀

What did we have? We didn’t have mothers who bought us fast food or whatever we wanted to eat and ordered deliveries of our favorite sweets. We had a mother who cooked! Our mothers cooked spinach, green beans, peas, cauliflower – I grew up in a time before broccoli! We had real oatmeal and soup! We had to eat what was on the table – OR NOT EAT AT ALL! And when we didn’t behave as we should, there were days we were sent to bed without dinner.

We had toys – our toys came from China! All the lead paint and cadmium we sucked off the toys ourselves! Nobody helped us – and we didn’t die. Our mothers drove us around in cars without baby’s safety cushions and children’s seats, without airbags and some of them even without seat belts! Our mothers didn’t drive their children around in family vans and SUV’s. We had Volkswagen Beetles! Vacation time came, and our Dad was driving us, his wife, and two kids in the back of his baby blue beetle for 16 hours across the continent! Our mother had a few plastic bags for us kids to vomit into in case we didn’t feel so well.

When we were on the road, our mother didn’t have baby wipes or sterile medical wipes. She had a fabric family handkerchief where she spat into and wiped our faces with! That is actually the best stain remover on Earth! If a cleaner-production-company would be smart, they’d bottle up mother-spittle and sell it as an ‘all stain remover,’ because it removes everything, from mud to blood. And in that handkerchief, if anyone would ever have it scientifically investigated, you could have found the DNA from our great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, robber-knight Alexander!

When we couldn’t sleep as kids, we didn’t get ‘sleep-well-baby-tea’ or ‘baby-sleeping-juice’ from the drug store. No! Grandmother came in with the big bottle of brandy, and if there was none in the house, we got eggnog instead – we were forced to open our mouth and got it fed with the tablespoon, followed by a handful of gummi bears which we ate, one after another, then turned around and slept, and we still have all our teeth!

If we once in a rare while got a chewing gum, we didn’t chew and carelessly discarded it by the side of the road after half an hour. We chewed the entire day – and then in the evening, carefully placed it on our nightstand! In the morning, we blew the fluffs off the gum and stuck it back into our mouth – and in school, in the break, when talking to our best friend, we loaned it to her for the duration of the break – and the next lesson!

To play with we didn’t have Wii-consoles, Playstation, i-phones, i-pads, i-pods and were glued to them and frozen in time. What did we have to play with when we were kids? We had FRIENDS! And with these friends, we played daily! Yes, and sometimes we argued, we wrestled and once in a while one of our teeth fell out – but back then an incident like that wasn’t followed by an immediate meeting with parents who threatened to contact their lawyers! We were the ones being responsible for what we did!

And additionally, to the lost tooth, we got a clean slap across the face from Mom what she considered a clear statement in educational measures. Then we played ball – all kinds of ball. Softball, Basketball, soccer. The athletic kids were picked by the respective team captains, the not-so-athletic ones (like little AJ) were watching, not playing because these kids had to learn to handle disappointment – without the constant support of a children’s psychiatrist.

We all drank from the same glasses. Not the matching glasses – the SAME ones – like our siblings, parents, neighbors, neighbors’ kids, friends, and the neighbors’ dog sometimes. That wasn’t always nice – and sometimes we even drank from the garden hose when we were really thirsty – and we all survived!

We barely ever drank water and never soda- nor ‘filtered water’ out of a bottle, or water with a taste – no, we drank lemonade, yellow lemon tasty liquid with tons of sugar, sometimes the thing was syrup with orange taste and bubbles – and then we went back playing and ran it off.

We got grades in school – from first class on! And when we had bad grades in school, our parents told us off! They didn’t go giving their opinion to our teachers! We were the ones who had to work hard in school because only the kids with good grades who knew things and were good in school went to college, not every Ritalin-addicted brat whose parents were too lazy to work in school back in their times and hired tutors for their kids from the second class on, still believing their brood is highly gifted.

We had everything – we, the ones born before 1980 had everything! Freedom, success, failure, happiness, disappointment – and lemonade! We grew up, we experienced the first computers – we learned how to use them, we grew with the technology – but it doesn’t control us! We are neither addicted, nor are we dominated by technology! To us, it is a relief, a help, not our master. We can survive without it – the one after 1980 can’t! We are the ones who are tough; nothing is killing us, shattering us or making us giving up – because we learned to live with whatever was thrown to us – and we survived!

Self-Publishing and Entrepreneurship – Written By Jami Gold

Jamie Gold tells us about Self-Publishing and Entrepreneurship. What are we – authors or entrepreneur? Thank you for your post, Jamie.


In many ways, a writing career has a lot in common with being an entrepreneur.

Even if we’re with a traditional publisher, we still have to manage our own branding, contracts, and acceptance of risk in ways that corporate employees usually don’t.

In the realm of self-publishing, the comparison to entrepreneurship is spot on.

Our writing and publishing endeavors create our own little company.

We’re responsible for assembling our team of editors, cover artists, and everything else—and we won’t succeed if we drop the ball.

Continue reading HERE

BOAW – Blog Fest – Girl Boner Entry – PG-18

This post is part of the Beauty of a Woman BlogFest VI! To read more entries, and potentially win a fun prize, visit the fest page between today and 11pm PST March 11th.

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Lies, boring sex and does size really matter?

Once upon a time… It was a while ago I was in a relationship I considered to be happy. It was a long-distance, long-term relationship, and later engagement. And there it languished. If we had lived closer together, I eventually had realized much earlier, that this guy was a lazy, lying, nightmarish sociopath. But for a while I was happy. He made me happy. He made me feel like I was the only one, the prettiest, the most beautiful woman! (I found out later he told this to at least 6 or 7 other women too – at the same time – but that’s not subject of this post).

At the time he made me happy, satisfied me in bed until I finally realized two things: The man had literally no idea how a female body works, and I wasn’t sure whether he was properly educated when it comes to the ‘birds and the bees’.

Maybe this might help him:

Yes, he carefully watched my reactions, and I figure his request for me to let myself go and make noises during sex made it easier for him to see what action leads to what reaction. But other than that, he was more or less helpless.

·    He had no idea why women menstruate

·    He had no clue how to recognize when a woman fakes an orgasm

·    He was totally oblivious how many orgasms a woman can have before dying

·    He figured the more orgasms, the better satisfied

·    The thought of a woman faking an orgasm just to get him off her finally never occurred to him.

As for me: I finally realized how boring this man was. All he was (and probably still is) interested in is sleeping, eating and sex. And there we go: He was even boring in bed. Due to us being apart for long times and then meeting again, it took me a while to find out that these sexual meetings always followed a certain program. Like a time frame, or maybe a ‘user manual.’

1. Tell her you love her

2. Tell her she’s beautiful

3. Tell her you missed her

4. Repeat point 1 – 3 excessively

5. Undress her

6. shower with her (because she insists)

7. tell her some more she’s beautiful

8. give her oral satisfaction

9. extend that until she screams

10. before she sneaks off (again), finally try to get your own satisfaction (provided it stands)

That was about it. There was no variation, no ideas, no new things, nothing magic, not even much fun after a certain time.

In the end, I finally just sighed and shortened the entire happening somewhere between point 1 and 4 – and again around point 7 and 8. Earlier screaming makes the entire thing end up faster, right?

And there was something else that irritated me to no end: his pride about the size of his penis. I just frowned at him when he mentioned the 9 inches. Do I need to understand what the point is why men need to show off their size? Provided of course they have it! Because of these 9 inches were, if not a lie, at least an exorbitant exaggeration. To this day I still believe he read that one number ‘upside down.’ It would explain a lot.

At the end it came as it had to: The relationship came to an end. Do I regret what happened? In a way, I do, yes. It shouldn’t have taken this long for me to realize how boring the man was, both in and outside the bed.

It took me a while to get out of the grief – but once I got over it, I thought, okay. Next time it will be better. And I thought it did…

*****

Unexpectedly and to my great surprise a man from my past showed up out of the shadows. Over 20 years ago we had worked together on a project, but once the project had ended, we’ve never seen each other again.

That man was so handsome when he was younger! Back then he had swept me off my feet. And now he came back into my life to do just the very same thing again. I’m no kid, and I usually don’t suffer from unexpected hallucinations. He got older, just as I did. We all change a bit with age. The only difference is that I’m realistic about it – he isn’t.

His way of making love with me was to ‘jump on me,’ wild, feral… his foreplay limited to the words “Are you awake?”

Considering the years before I had the most boring sex one can only imagine, this might have been a welcome change. For just a moment. Then I woke up. My man complained I was “too aroused.” I hate to say that, but I had to really, I mean, really control myself extremely hard not to laugh out loudly. Why? Let’s say it this way: As a woman in love, you don’t tell the man of your desire that he does turn you on, but unfortunately he’s got a penis about the size of an IHOP breakfast sausage.

And no, this is not me making fun of him. I’m 5’3″ and never had a child. My gynecologist uses his instruments the size for young girls – and still, I had the feeling having sex with my boyfriend was like throwing a wiener into a garage… What does that tell us? The good thing was: I knew it wasn’t me. He is that convinced everything about him, on him and in him is totally perfect, he had to find a reason why our sexual being together wasn’t as good as he wanted it to be. And since he “is” perfect, it was my fault.

Only a while later he told me, he wanted me to lose weight. – And that was it for me. Couldn’t he find a way to accept me the way I am; even more since he told me before that he would? I informed him that it was time to say ‘goodbye.’

To my great surprise, this got to me. I was extremely depressed after this separation. I missed him horribly… But I am lucky. I have the most wonderful friends on Earth. They helped me getting over him and comforted me.

I think the final moment when I was prepared to let go, was that particular day when I went grocery shopping and heard a song that reminded me of him. In a blur, our time together raced through my memory… and I thought to myself: “Really, girl… did you want to stay together with a man who is that bad in bed?” And then I started laughing.

It is, I might add at this point, a little embarrassing to laugh out loudly and being unable to stop, in the middle of a supermarket, right between broccoli and bananas. However, I made it out alive. The only thing I regret until this day is, that I never gave him “The Kamasutra” for his birthday.

*****

These two relationships taught me three things; I better keep in mind from now on:

1. I need a man who has a goal in life that goes further than meals, sleep, and sex. I need a man who moves his ass and works for what he wants and has a certain fantasy and ideas; a man with a certain education, whose messages I can read without flinching over the misspellings and who is experienced and interested enough to find out how to satisfy a woman. A man, with whom sharing intimacy makes my skin tickle, my skull explode until I can count the stars in the sky and my toenails roll up.

2. Does size really matter? To me, it does, yes. Do I compare? Was that one better than this one? Hell no! The size of the penis isn’t half as interesting as the man that’s accompanying it. But to me, there needs to be ‘something’ to feel.

3. I am, in my very individual and unique way, beautiful. And I deserve better than what I have been accepting of a relationship for the past few years.

 

I, therefore, decided to celebrate my beauty. I am unique; I am special, I am beautiful, I am humorous, loving, caring and helpful… I am many things; and yes, in bed I’m a revelation. *wink*

I deserve to have what I want, and I deserve to be happy!

*****

Picture courtesy of: http://www.theworld-aroundus.com/life/having-sex-twice-in-a-row-has-an-amazing-effect-on-fertility/
Picture courtesy of: http://www.theworld-aroundus.com/life/having-sex-twice-in-a-row-has-an-amazing-effect-on-fertility/