The Odd Wife


Friday, October 29, 2004

My breasts

Work required that we dress in costume today for our office Halloween party. If you refused, they would dress you in a costume of their choice. Now, I'm pretty sure the Supreme Court would have something to say about this, but I'm a fun-loving girl and I didn't have to resort to legal wrangling today.

I'm saving it for Christmas when I can protest my pagan beliefs be included in my seriously born-again Christian laden office.

Anyway, I'm a Gangster Girl. Or a Mobster Moll. Whatever. Pin-striped suit, low cut red top, black fedora tipped strategically over one eye. The low cut top is causing an awakening. Men are speaking into my breasts as if they think I will hear them better. I don't mind. I wouldn't display them so prominently if I did.

The truth is, I get checked out quite often and I appreciate it. Ogle away. Doesn't bother me in the least. I like it.

Of course, if you touch, you better be someone I like or I'm going to rip your arm off and beat you half to death with it. Maybe. Maybe not.


Posted by Red :: 10:43 AM :: |
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Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Men suck...

I'm in man-hating mood today. Specifically my husband. I'm going to spare you the details because I don't want this to become that kind of blog. But I will share with you the short version of why I am furious.

Last night, in the shower...talking while lathering about my experience waiting for my gynecologist appointment yesterday. I told him I hate going to the gynecologist because I am always afraid they're going to take one look down there and say "Whoa, what the hell is that?!" or something. We laughed a bit and he asked what the heck would make me think that. I confessed that from time to time I worried that I wasn't tight enough for him.

He said "Tuesday".

You have to understand this is his "cute" answer.

Example:
Me: "Is that girl prettier than me?"
Him: "Tuesday"

Me: "Have you ever fantasized about another woman?"
Him: "Tuesday"

Get it?

So this just floored me. I'm not speaking to the dickhead. He tried to apologize, but his apologies always go like this...

"I'm sorry, but..." or "It's not my fault, you brought it up and I was joking about it".

Jerk. Maybe him being larger would solve his problem. I know it would solve mine.

Posted by Red :: 7:54 AM :: |
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Tuesday, October 26, 2004

So much for that...

I had planned to spend my lunch hour today reclining with a complete stranger between my thighs.

But after an hour of waiting in the downstairs office of my new gynecologist, they still hadn't seen me and I got pissed off and left. We'll try again tomorrow. What a fucking waste of an hour of my time.

Whatever.

Is this some sort of cosmic pattern? Every time I have a chance to get a man to pay attention to my vagina, schedules interfere?

Somewhere the gods are laughing...

Posted by Red :: 12:42 PM :: |
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Sue me...

I'm tired. I'm cranky. And I don't fucking feel like blogging yet...
Maybe later. Maybe not. Check back. I promise to be charming sometime in the future.

Maybe not.

Posted by Red :: 8:27 AM :: |
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Monday, October 25, 2004

I know what you're thinking...

You're wondering if The Odd Wife got lucky this weekend. Yes, you are. Yes, you are. YES, YOU FUCKING ARE.

Okay, fine. You're wondering why you're reading this crap, but I'm going to blabber on anyway.

This was one weird weekend.

After miscommunications and mishaps that resulted in us not having sex and fighting half the weekend about it - we finally made it to the naked sweaty part. Granted, he did the "not having sex" part all weekend and I did the fighting. (Hey, I'll fight for sex any day. I could make an Olympic sporting event of it). He was tired, he fell asleep, he was busy, he was afraid to wake me...whatever!

Sunday, we went to a roaring 20's party in costume. I wore a black pinstriped pant suit over a low cut red top with a black fedora hat and a plastic machine gun. That did it. So, naturally I am thinking we are moving into the world of costume fetish. I don't care. I'll dress up like Ethel Merman if it will get me action. He spent the entire day ogling my cleavage and when we got home, he unleashed a world of "ahhhh".

Just thinking about it makes me want a cigarette...

The best part was when he pulled me outside and initiated foreplay on our front door step (we live on a semi-busy street). Pulling my top up and ravaging my breasts with kisses, licks and nibbles. Pulling my blue silky boxers to one side and ravaging other places with kisses, licks and nibbles too...

I can only assume the neighbors were less than pleased.

Whew...





Posted by Red :: 7:57 AM :: |
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Friday, October 22, 2004

Overcome...

I am sitting at my desk, looking around and I am overcome with the urge to seal off the cubicles of my co-workers with saran wrap and fill the insides to the very top with styrofoam peanuts.

What do you think they would actually use as the official reason for termination???



"She was an excellent worker, but we feel strongly that she seeks professional help before returning to the workplace"

Whatever...

Posted by Red :: 5:19 PM :: |
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Sex Me Up, Big Boy!

I'm feeling sexually needy at this moment. I hate the expression "horny" because it sounds so...crass, I guess.

Lunchtime I called Hubby. "Plan something sexy for tonight," I told him. He complained that I put pressure on him, like a homework assignment. I wasn't expecting costumes, props and a performance - just the performance would be nice.

*sigh*

Probably not promising, eh?

The trouble is, when I feel this way - I begin sending out these signals. I smile a bit more suggestively at any man I speak to. I use my eyes in more expressive ways to communicate sly thoughts. I use innuendos in normal conversation.

I become a flirt. Really. I'm just begging for it, aren't I?

The sad thing is, Hubby misunderstood. Do you know what my big sexy hopes for tonight were?

A darkened room. Freshly brushed teeth (I love minty kisses). He pulls me into the room and into an embrace. He kisses me as he runs his hands over me, possessively, demanding, roughly. He grips the bottom of my shirt and rakes it over my head in one swift, firm move. He caresses my breasts, removing my bra - kissing and touching. He pulls me to the bed and pulls me down on top of him. He takes charge! He shows initiative! He is clearly WANTING sex. He demands things of me...naughty things. I'm all for pleasing a man - I just want to be asked or told to do so!

I'm one of the women who truly loves giving a man a blow job or a hand job. I get incredible aroused by the act of pleasing a man in these ways. I can literally spend hours happily attending to these tasks. All you have to do is ask!

Bodies intertwined in tangled sheets, hands roaming at will, touching, kissing, nipping, licking...he whispers roughly, "suck me. I want you to suck me now."

That's it! I'm IN! Every sense in my body and mind would just light up like the 4th of July! I'd be at it faster than a Weight Watcher's Support Group spotting a carb-free buffet.

My husband is hot. To me. I look at him and think, "Wow!" But sexually, he is repressed and hesitant! He's not bad - I just want more, more, more! I want him to be demanding and not always so gentle.

Is it to much to ask to be asked???




Posted by Red :: 5:02 PM :: |
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Whatever, Odd Wife

Don't you just hate the pressure of the first post to a new blog? What to reveal, what to withhold?

Do I tell you about me? I'm 31, for now. Married. One child. Red hair. Green eyes. Eccentric, fun loving, slightly silly and very outgoing.

Do I tell you about my life? My hopes? My dreams? My thoughts on the world, religion and politics?

Whatever...

The best I can offer on this first post is a greeting. Welcome to the Odd Wife's Odd Life.
I take no responsibility for my actions or your opinions of them.

Posted by Red :: 4:57 PM :: |
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Friday, October 01, 2004

Funny Things to Do at My 90 Day Review

I'm having lunch with 2 of my bosses next Wednesday to discuss my 90 day review. I've been coming up with entertaining ways to cope with the stress.

1. Immediately after sitting, line my blood pressure medications up in front of my plate, take several deep breaths and say "Okay, GO!" (Randomly pop pills as they speak).

2. Attempt to slice wrists open with the butter knife upon hearing criticism

3. When any criticism is heard, slap closed fist to my forehead repeatedly muttering "Stupid, Odd Wife! Stupid, stupid!"

4. Cry

5. Order insanely alcoholic beverages ("Iced tea", "iced tea", "double bourbon on the rocks - and keep 'em coming!")

6. Respond to every comment with "I know you are, but what am I?"

7. Help myself to food from their plates.

8. Demand a new title that incorporates the phrase "Her Royal Highness"

9. When we disagree on anything, suggest we could resolve it by arm wrestling and shove the plates aside to make room. When they refuse, make "chicken" noises at them.

10. Blame my mistakes on them. ("No, it's your fault I was late Tuesday morning!")

Posted by Red :: 7:12 AM :: |
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