Manic Pixie Dream Girl

Rayanne

My So Called Crush

I have loved the Manic Pixie Dream Girl since before the term existed. She was my 5th grade BFF, my camp councillor with the nose ring, my high school crush, and the party girl I made out with while her boyfriend looked on in bemusement.

She was slender and dangerous, creative and impulsive.
I have swooned over her impish smile, basked in the glow of her creativity, and patiently picked up the pieces when things fell apart.

But, although she toyed with my affections, performed to my adoration, and leaned on my strong shoulder, she never loved me back.

She was butterfly wings and sparkles over a cavern of pain that my love and understanding was never able to fill.

In the movies, the Manic Pixie Dream Girl shows up to transform the heroes life. But in real life she’s Stephanie stealing my lunchbox, Rayanne overdosing, the councilor busted for weed, the party girl turning christian and having six kids…

I love the Manic Pixie Dream Girl.
But if you love someone, you’ve gotta let them go.

Angela and Rayanne Flirting on My So Called Life

How Could Angela Even LOOK at Jordan?

Let’s Be Friends

Hot mostly naked softballer

No Actual Nudity Was Involved in the Making of This Post

I had the brilliant idea that now that Noma and I were no longer “going out,” it would be a good idea to introduce her to my kids. Actually, it was a pretty fucking brilliant idea. You see, my daughter’s softball season was ending, and she seemed to back-and-forth on whether she liked it or not. I thought that introducing her to a grown-up woman who plays softball would be a good idea, and Noma agreed to come and practice with the kids.

I had been reluctant to introduce her previously, because I am very hesitant to introduce anyone who I am dating to my kids unless things are starting to get serious. After putting my son through hell after I left his father for my daughter’s father, I was determined not to do that again. Also, I figure my kids don’t need to see me with an endless parade of women. When I find someone who I really think I can settle down with–then I’ll introduce her to my kids. But friends? Really, my kids don’t see enough of my friends!

So, anyways, it went great! Noma was fantastic pitching to, and coaching my kids, I had fun fielding the ball–a good time was had by all! By the end of two hours, my son–more of a computer nerd than a sports geek–was so enthused that he declared a desire to join little leaugue.

Well, so far so good! Operation prove-to-Noma-that-ex’s-can-actually-be-friends-while-giving-my-kids-sports-inspiration off to a brilliant start!

“Thanks again!” I said, giving Noma a goodbye hug. “I’ll see you on Wednesday!”

“Wednesday?” She looked taken aback.

“Yeah, at that event..?”

“Oh yeah, Wednesday!

Hot Salsa Mess Part 3

ruinous brick wall

Start the adventure with Hot Salsa Mess Part 1

I wanted nothing more then to go home and gargle a bottle of listerine. But I had unfinished business.

Looking around, Mena’s bodyguard was no where to be seen, so I made my way up the stage. I figured we had been looking at each other all night, we might as well talk.

“Hi.” I said, sitting down next to her.
“Hi” she replied.

I wanted to talk with her the way I used to do. I wanted to ask if she had gotten a job that didn’t treat her like shit…if that guy in her apartment was still after her… if she’d given in and slept with that prostitute she used to obsess over.

I wanted to tell her that that butch she saw me dancing with had only fucked me, but she had strapped on for me–just like I always hoped Mena would–and it was amazing. (Okay maybe not everything I wanted to say was nice.)

I wanted to tell her that now I was dating a soft stud, and  I really liked her…

I wanted to just talk, that raw girl talk we used to have, like we were friends, the way we used too.

But as strong as the cord was between us, the wall between us was powerful too.

So I just said:
“How are you doing?”
“I’m good.”
“Ok, just wanted to say hi.”

And I drove home to go rinse my mouth out.

*      *     *

The next day I asked my friend how she knew Mena was the stud I was talking about–was I that obvious?

“It was her” she replied. “She was just standing there, watching, looking uncomfortable. At one point I saw her glaring at me–and thought–I must have danced with her ex–and I guess I did.”

Yeah. I guess she did.

Hot Salsa Mess Part 1

Hot Salsa Mama

The night was off to a bad start when I turned around to see my ex, the stone stud Mena. The one I told to “lose my number.” (But I kept hers–I want to know who she is if she calls me again)
“Oh, hi.” I said, warmly and without thinking, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah, hi.” she replied, smiling awkwardly.
Wasn’t I just talking today about how nice it was that I hadn’t run into her. Since  Pure ended?
I squinted at her–was there something different about her? (She wasn’t wearing a hat. She always wears a hat!) Oh well, I didn’t have time to worry bout it, I was going to learn how to Salsa!

Twenty or so women–including another former lover of mine–were already learning the merengue. Hmm..although I’m actually on good terms with this ex lover (we had a one-night fling–I don’t tell you everything), I’m going to have watch myself. It’s a small lesbian community, and two ex lovers in the same room strikes me as two too many.

Anyways, she smiled at me, and twirled me in her arms. I had taken a merengue lesson years ago, and felt pretty confident. I was a little tense, though, and she was just learning the step, so we were just a tad off.

Was I tense because of the lingering tension between us? Because my ex was standing there watching us? Her eyes burning a hole through my dress? Because I really, really, needed a drink?

Yes.

I saw Mena laughing at me as we changed partners and switched to salsa. Salsa dancing is sooo much harder than merengue-at least without a skilled lead. I did my best to block the snickering out as my partner and I groped for the steps: step-step-step pause, step-step-step pause. I think I’m going to need either a lot more lessons or a lot more practice!

My friend went for her coat after the lesson.
“Youre leaving already?”
“Yup, I can’t be keeping these late hours.”
“So, you know that stud I told you about? She’s here.”
“The one in the Celtics jersey?”
“Yeah…?!”
How did she know? Was I that obvious?

The End of Jen

This is the last I will write about Jen (please Goddess!). My New Years resolution is to stop thinking about old ex-girlfriends and start making new ones! (Just kidding…kinda…read on)

So after I put my clothes on, I was pretty mad and fighting tears, but I calmed down and we did talk. I expressed how hurt I was, both by her distance and then the whole using me for sex thing, and she told me how she thought I just wanted sex and tried to move too fast for her.

She says she’s conflicted about her sexuality, although I don’t understand why that’s an issue now if it wasn’t two years ago, or the whole time she was dating this other chick, or when she cheated on the other chick with me. She says it’s because now her mom knows. (Her Mom does NOT approve.)

She asked me not to totally cut her out of my life, which is what I’ve tried to do every other time we’ve tried and failed. I agreed, but told her I would not be seeing much of her.

The next day she texted me that she was thinking of me, she loved our conversation, etc…but I had been crying off and on all morning. I texted her back telling her I need some space. She tried to push it, but I remained firm. Eventually I stopped answering her and she stopped trying. (Her version of trying involved guilt-trip texts and calling from blocked numbers.)

It’s true I do care for her, maybe even love her. But it’s like she has two personalities: one is thoughtful and loving. The other is a trickster child who lashes out at me. She’s really hurt me before, but somehow last night just hurt deeper.

I think that a part of me did think I just wanted her for sex, but when she asked me for more, asked me to open myself up to her, I did.

It seems so unlikely that Ill find anyone while I’m raising my kids. I’ve been trying to be hard and pretend like all I want is to play around.  Tried to convince myself I can really wait until another 8-10 years until my kids are grown to find someone with whom I just fit, someone I can make a life with.

But if that was true I wouldn’t have been so ready to get back together with her or so devastated by her treatment of me.

Put Your Clothes On!

So my three faithful readers (you know who you are) may be wondering what happened with Jen, my more-off-than-on ex-girlfriend. I wrote this a while ago, but I didn’t want to ruin the Holiday Spirits by posting it (or something) We left off at Birthday Sex.

The good thing about working on a Saturday is I can cry at my cubicle as much as I want.

So Jen and I were getting pretty deep in our conversations on the phone. She even told me she loved me…with just the right amount of awkwardness and self-effacement. In no time she had me opening my heart back up to her.  I was feeling close to her.

She said if I came over last night she wanted me to bring whipped cream so she could lick it off my nipples.

But when I got there she barely wanted to touch me. I know she thought I just wanted sex from her…but I wanted intimacy as much as anything else. I wanted her to kiss and hold me and talk with me as much as fuck me. I know I can be over-eager–I need to work on that–but she was so cold to me.

Then the next thing I know she’s got her shorts off asking me if I want her to sit on my face. I told her I wanted her to kiss me, and she said “there’s no way that’s happening.”

So like a fool I sucked her until she decided she was done. I wanted so badly for her to hold me, touch me in return. Then she put a robe on and told me to get dressed. I felt so used like a fucking sex toy.

Why do I keep opening myself up to let her hurt me?

Birthday Sex

I was talking to a friend at work about the new man in my life, and she pointed out something I should have noticed: the fact that there was zero excitement in my voice when I talked about him. That’s when I realized that, although he doesn’t know it yet, it’s over. Right now the only thing I want from him is my bra.

I was just thinking about this when I got a text from my ex girlfriend Jen. (I’ve written abut our off-and-on thing so much I finally made my own category for posts about her.)

For all the times I swore I would never mess with her again, it turns out she only had to text me two little words to pull me back to her like a puppet on a string. Those words being “birthday” and “sex” (her birthday, not mine).

So despite being completely exhausted from insomnia the night before, I went over to her house Wednesday night.

At first I thought she was playin with me again, as she spent the first 40 minutes I was there playing around on Facebook.

Then when I finally got something started with her she was very skittish. I felt like I had to keep asking: “is this okay?” At one time we used to flow together so well–but I guess it had been a while. Finally she reciprocated. Every touch of her hand on my skin made my whole body tingle. we spent a long time holding and caressing each other. I missed the feeling of her body up against mine. She’s one of the few lovers that I’ve had that is just perfect to cuddle with…

And OMG I new I liked eating pussy, but I lost my damn mind over hers! She never even touched my pussy, but  I came three times while eating hers!

I got too excited though…I definitely need more practice…she kept telling me with her body what rhythms to follow, but it was hard to follow when my passion made me want to lead. Still, she says she can’t stop thinking about me, so I must have done something right.

We’re back in the honeymoon stage…trying to be nice to each other. Experience says this won’t last long but I hope I’m wrong…