Feels SO Good

I spent an interesting afternoon with a darling, wonderful male that made my heart sing today.

He is so charming and irresistible with an imploring smile I couldn't refuse, so I did as he so obviously wanted and took him in my arms. He insisted on being right next to me and didn't want to share me at all… with anyone. He gave me those 'sad puppy' eyes until he had me all to himself. Who can resist that, I ask you? I certainly can't, that's for sure!

So there I sat on the sofa, sometimes touching his face, others stroking his soft and silky black hair. For a time, I thought he would be content just to be so close to me as I was content with him held so close to my body, but no. As with most of his sex, it was just the beginning, sort of.

He slowly pulled back ever so slightly, looked in my eyes and smiled. Then he slid down a bit and rested his head on my chest. I couldn't help but smile at this to myself. Next thing I knew, he turned his head and buried his face in my cleavage after having slightly tugged aside my v-neck sweater so that he could rest his face against my skin. It seemed as if he was memorizing the scent of my skin. Every so often he would pull back, stare at my face with the sweetest smile, gaze into my eyes searchingly, then lay back down and adjust his position on my breasts. Sometimes he would rest his cheek there, skin to skin and look off into space, deep in his own thoughts. Occasionally he would sigh contentedly

He certainly seemed at peace resting his head just above my heart, relaxed and pliant and I wondered what his thoughts were even as his wandering hands had already moved from touching my hair and stroking my arms to finally slip inside my sweater's neckline just to rest there on the curve of my breast. We lay like this for at least a half an hour content and peaceful with me occasionally leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

Laying like this with him made me ache for something I'm afraid I might never be able to have, yet that didn't make me enjoy this time any less.

For someone that has had such a rough time of things lately, (one of my best friends in the whole world has jokingly referred to my life at present as a War) I find that I have to snatch moments of happiness wherever I can find them.

Today I found such a moment of happiness with my 7-month old nephew Khalid, the only boy of the triplets I love so much it hurts my soul, nestled in my arms, head resting against my breasts, sighing every now and then and rubbing his footsie clad feet against me softly, listening to my heartbeat for a time.

This time with Khalid was stolen time because his sister Talya demanded her own time and is very territorial with me. I am HERS and she doesn't like to share. I had them almost all to myself since the triplets parents are gone for a week with their big sister aged 3.

I must admit one thing about him. If he is this charming and such a ladies man at 7 months, what in the hell will he be like at 17? At 27?

Oh never mind, I'll just enjoy my time with him and his two sisters while I can and pray that someday soon, when my 'war' with life has finally come to a time of Peace, that I will be able to hold my own little son or daughter (or both if I ended up with twins!) in my arms as much as I want and shower the love I have to give on my own child.

Until then, I must remember to repeat to myself regularly :"Patience is a virtue and will be rewarded".



Sharing Is Caring

Or so I've been told. What it comes down to is this:

What I saw watching TV last night just HAS to be shared with my readers. Full stop.

See, I had heard that such a thing existed from a fellow blogger on her blog, but honestly? You have to hear, or in my case, see it, to believe it. Actually, in my case, I read about it first a couple of months ago, but couldn't really decided if it was a joke or not, then last week I HEARD it on the local radio station and was, well, astounded. So last night was the final nail in the coffin for me.

See, last night while innocently channel surfing through my collection of music channels (I love the Italian ones best!) on the satellite dish, I saw William Shatner's -that's Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship USS Enterprise or T.J. Hooker for those of you scratching your heads in confusion- new music video. *screams:"My Eyes!!! MY EYES!!!!!!"*

Yeah. A video. For a song. (sorta) It's kind of beatnik jazz and he is basically reciting poetry over it, but still. Dude has a record out, it is getting AIRPLAY on local radio in the middle of nowhere (ie: where I live) and..... AND the video (zzzzZZZZzzzZzZzzzzZZZZZ) is getting airplay on European music channels. Just so you know, his single is called "It Hasn't Happened" and my hearing is yet intact.

While watching the video like a deer caught in the headlights with the most STUPID look on my face I am QUITE sure, I noticed something that kind of tickled me. The woman singing in the background of what was actually fairly decent music ruined by the drone of Captain Kirk, well, the woman.. it sounded JUST LIKE the 'singing' on the themesong to Star Trek. I'm serious. hahahahhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Just thinking about my realizing that cracks me up.

What I still can't belive is that my nice and reliable (and frankly? Most often are damn gorgeous too!) Italian VJ's, who usually play such a fantastic broad range of GOOD (keyword here people: GOOD) music stooped to playing this.

If it were German VJ's or DJ's, then I could totally understand. I mean come ON! The German music loving public dies, absolutely DIES for David Hasselhoff. (I have seen record stores in Germany in person, and I tell the truth. Rows upon rows of David Hasselhoff CD's. His concerts Sell out in minutes. Google it if you don't belive me. Go on.)

First Knight Rider and then Captian Kirk. Who the hell is next, The Terminator? Maybe J.R. Ewing.

Good Lord above. It is sad beyond belief.

Has anyone else heard this? Don't let me suffer alone.. .please!


Inquisition Confession – Week 14

Welcome one, welcome all.

I will cut to the chase today, hmmm? I mean, Catrina sounded hungry if you ask me because she asked this:

Question: Do you know how to cook samboosa?

Funny thing you should ask me that. I was making cheese samboosas last night! Also I made vegetable ones. It's funny because I don't make them all that often so imagine my surprise when I read your question, hmmm? They weren't those big ass Punjabi ones that are HUGE or anything, but the regular small ones.

So, yeah babe, I sure do. And Cat? You just HAD to ask me that samboosa question, didn't you? (private joke)

Now on to Cheryl b. This is probably the hardest question you've ever nailed me with my dear. You know that? Jeez.

Cheryl asked me:

Tell us about the animal that you have loved the most in your life. Not your favorite type of animal, but your favorite animal specifically.

I honestly thought long and hard on this question because that is like asking a mother to choose her favorite child. I love and have loved all of my animals for different reasons. Each one is really like a person; different in their own way with their own unique personalities. So, as I was thinking on your question, Cheryl, I realized I really can't pick just one. If you look at it like this, I have had about 50-60 kids in my life at least. (Yeah, I have a great capacity for love)

To help explain why such high numbers, Z and I were Persian cat breeders back home. We had a lot of kittens come and go. I am also extremely possessive of my 'things'. We stopped with the breeding part of it because, well frankly, I can't keep them ALL, you know? Even though I wanted to and we were always disagreeing on who to keep and who to sell. Not good. I have a soft heart and would cry when they left, Z on the other hand is not so soft hearted like I am.

All that being said. I will narrow it down to the most dear off the top of my head, hmmm? That would be Heidi and Princess. Dog and cat respectively.

I don't think I have ever adored and loved a dog like my mom's (ok, and mine, sorta, but really? Mama's) red short-haired mini-Dachshund , Heidi. She is a beautiful and elegant and extremely intelligent little lady, that Heidi-deidi. (Yea yeah, that's my nickname for her) Mama got her my senior year of High School as a puppy. Heidi is the first dog I actually lived with full time and Heidi and I were and are close.
Mom got another doxie a few years later, a boy, Otto, and while he is cute and sweet and all? I don't love him like I do Heidi. I love him, but, not like that.

Heidi and I are so close. When I was pregnant with Arianna Mom got really sick and was in and out of hospitals a lot. Heidi, if Mama wasn't around, refused to eat or drink. Twice a day I had to go over to Mama's while she was in the hospital and feed her and let her out to go potty or take her for a walk. Otto? He will eat ANYTIME. But not Heidi. I would go over and I could hear he whimpering from the sidewalk as I came up the driveway walking.

As my tummy got bigger as my pregnancy advanced, Heidi would come up on the sofa next to me and rest her chin on my stomach and just stare at me and make that special noise (like a sigh and whimper all rolled in one) that she only made for me and mama when she was happy. I would laugh because there poor Heidi was resting with me and Arianna would kick her so I would watch her head bounce up and down.

When Arianna was born Heidi became obsessed with her. She would go apeshit whenever I brought her over and do happy dances all over the place….. until Otto tried to prance over and say hello. Then she would beat his ass all over the living room then stand guard in front of Ari's carrier growling at him until he got the hint that "This baby is MINE!!! (ROWWRRRRR) Piss off pipsqueak and Don't come near her!". Otto, being the doofus he is, kept on trying.. and kept on getting his poor ass beaten by Heidi.

If Heidi wasn't around Ari and she cried for any reason, that dog would race hell for leather barking till she reached Ari and jump up and check her while waiting for us to jump like trained seals. She looked concerned about the crying, not irritated. Arianna had inherited her own little watchdog.

Heidi is still alive but almost completely grey now. And you know what? If I talk to her on the phone or she smells my scent on something I've sent my Mom? She still makes that "I love you" noise she makes for me.

The same school year we got Heidi, about 6 months earlier I was given a cat Mama named Princess. This was my first cat in about 8 years. I was given Princess by my then-but-not-for-long boyfriend, Bill. Bill got on my last damn nerve (and Mama's too, for the record) and the best thing about Bill was the cat he gave me.

He took me to pick her up from her mother and siblings. Princess was the ONLY black and white cat in a litter of 7 cats. Everyone else AND the mama were grey tabby cats.

I adored Princess and so did Mama, who had insisted for YEARS "NO PETS!" Mom named her, I tried names, but she answered to Princess and so she was named.
This cat and I were inseparable. What I loved about Princess? Was that she was a real talker. She was also frighteningly smart. She knew where her food was kept and every morning, we would find that she had swung the cabinet door open like "hint hint sukahs!" She would wait in my bedroom window for me to come home, meowing her soft meow maow through the glass, then be meowing for me waiting at the door the second my key hit the lock, walking alongside me all the way through the house with her steady stream of conversation.

Every night, we had routine, too. I would get in bed, and then it was cuddle time. She would come and lay between my arm and body and make 'paddycake' for at least a HALF AN HOUR and saying softly, in almost a whisper 'maow maooow" till we both conked out.

When I got married, mama couldn't bear to lose me and Princess in one go, (and Z didn't really like Princess anyway because she wasn't a pedigree cat), so mama kept Princess with her.

Princess never forgave me for that. I would go visit EVERY SINGLE DAY and when she saw me, she would literally turn her back on me and ignore me. She wouldn't let me hold her much either. She was never the same. Sometimes she would sneak up behind me on the sofa and sit, but never like we were before.

It broke my heart.

Perhaps what is the most endearing or ironic is that my Princess developed Ovarian Cysts… just like ME. Yeah, Princess was infertile too. Poor cat would go into a full heat (I mean calling and pedaling and backing up on anything she could, including YOUR ANKLE, a chair leg, ANYTHING-I don't do that tho, for the record!)once a month, every month until we diagnosed her, tried to get her pregnant with a male cat, but it didn't work, and we finally got her spayed.

Even stranger? Is that Heidi has developed Mama's same exact heart problem. (And it isn't very common, either). Every day Mama and Heidi take their heart medication.

Weird, huh?

This week Mare asked me a multi-level question all related to the same thing because, well, she missed out last week, she says:

What do you think about strip clubs? Have you ever been to one for either sex? What do you think about husbands/s.o.'s going, getting lap dances, etc. Would you go to a strip club with an s.o. where women were stripping?

I don't usually consider or thing about strip clubs, actually. I've never been to an actual strip club for either sex, per se. Although, as mentioned in last weeks Inquisition by Catrina, we were at a dance club where gay men would get up on a stage and dance, but it wasn't a real strip club and I was with Z, for whatever that was worth. I'd probably have fun at a Chippendale's type place though if I went with some girlfriends, although I wouldn't necessarily be one to suggest going. (I don't think I would be one of those shrieking types though! That's just not me.)

Don't think I'd be too comfortable going to a strip club with a s.o. where women were stripping or giving lap dances but I guess it's better than having him go by himself and wondering what the hell went on, isn't it? I'm not really one for sharing my 'toys' though, if that's any indication?

I mean, I'd much rather be giving my s.o. the lap dance myself! And yes, I would SO do that!!

Thank you all for reading through my sometimes rather long-winded answers to the quesitons some of you seek.

Until my next post, I bid you all adieu.


A Revelation

Oh yes indeedy. I understand it so clearly now.

I totally and completely get something that I didn't understand before.

See, during my Jerry Springer viewing, I've noticed that some of the audience members, the females, instead of asking a question, ask Jerry if they can go touch -rub-Steve's head.

Steve is a BIG Bald Security guy, for those of you that don't watch it.

Steve always lets them come up and rub his baldness. I just didn't get it.

Until tonight.

Tonight, my friends came over, the guys, one of which -A-was in Phuket when the Tsunami hit last month. It was the first time I had seen him since he returned. I was so happy to see him home safe and sound I gave him a HUGE squeezy hug and a bunch of kisses on his face. For the record, A is bald as an egg. Naturally. I think naturally bald might be different. Anyhow, this guy is one of Z's best friends since childhood and I'm super comfortable with him. He is the guy that ever since he met me almost 10 years ago has said fairly regularly "Divorce this asshole *motions to Z* and marry ME instead!" , always remembers my birthday and takes us out for it or anniversary dinners,or gives me Birthday cards or Christmas cards adressed to "My beautiful wife, love, your second husband-A". He's funny that way. (My Mom knows him too and loves him to bits!)

So, as the night progresses, and we are all sitting talking and whatnot... I'm sitting next to him and I look over at him and I say, "Hon, I've just GOT to do this!" and then I reach over and rubbed the top of his bald head.

For the record? Soft as a baby's butt. Has anyone ever stroked the bridge of a cat's nose? It's softer. Just like a baby's butt or cheek (face).

I did it twice more later on. I couldn't resist. He just chuckled.

Curious little thing, aren't I? To quote my favorite TV character EVER, Samantha Stevens (Bewitched)......



Sweet and Satisfying

Some things make you think to yourself "Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

You all know I love critters in general and my cats in particular. (Yes, this includes the cats in the yard that have decided I'm their adoptive Mama and stand on the stairs meowing for me) Normally, I wouldn't balk about this, but damn people!! I have had a damn migrane for DAYS now, so bad that I am constantly nauseated. (So bad in fact, that I was gagging/retching in my sleep this morning when Z sprayed on his cologne before heading out the door. Yes, he yet lives.... but it was a near thing.)

For the record, I would just like to point out that when you have a migrane and not feeling too hot in general, plus a sick child that you are carting back and forth to the doctor for injections, it would be a really good idea to somehow manage to disabuse your spouse of the notion that RIGHT NOW some of the cats have to get bathed. Not later.. but NOW. (Not that it worked for me or anything. I just thought it would be nice of me to try to help others.)

Why you may ask? Because, when MY husband gets it in his head to do so, that means that maybe he might wash them (with your assistance, naturally) that translates to ME DOING THE BLOWDRY in addition to helping out with the bath to ensure the cats survive it. (he is heavy handed and forgets that they are, OH, Pregnant.). And yes, they must be blowdried. Long hair not dried properly = tangles from hell + damn cold temps = sick cats= hi vet bills. No ffing thank you.

So yeah, we washed and blowdried a couple of cats last night. Thanksforasking.

Fortunately, I talked him out of all 5 in one shot and down to the two most pregnant instead. Angel was pretty bad off. Whew. Angel is all happy she is clean now, strutting around with her tail held high when not flopping in the middle of my persian carpets for an impromptu grooming session or nap. (A proud one she is. She loves baths! Weirdo.) and Scarlett? Well, she's all clean and fluffy too, but wasn't particulary thrilled with the whole experience. Well! I had a program on Henry VIII to watch so rushed him through it and that was my excuse for only two! Jeez. (btw, the program on Hallmark channel was EXCELLENT!5 stars+!)

Then, I couldn't take seeing Max and Sigfreid, my boys, kinda messed up in comparison, so today? I tackled them. Max? Looks like a TEDDY BEAR. He is roughly the size and WEIGHT of a Cocker Spaniel. It's muscle, not fat. Sigi was a nightmare as USUAL but he looks so cute and clean. Isis is left for a bath, but I am not insane NOR do I have a death wish. When I told Z today that I left Isis for him, he had one reply. "Oh. SHIT." Heh. Vengence is mine for the migrane torture yesterday. HA!

SO. I mentioned that Angel, aka Homeland Security, is very happy to be all clean and fluffy. She is also HUGELY PREGNANT. We are talking GINORMOUS HERE PEOPLE! Hell and she isn't due until around the 28th of this month by our calculation. Ie: gonna get bigger folks! And? She was stuck to Arianna like glue tonight. She knows when Ari doesn't feel well. Even last night. Ari left her blanket on the sofa and went to sleep in her room. Angel came and hopped up, sniffed the blanket, curled up next to it with her head on it and purred loud and hard till she passed out.

Anyway, Ari came to watch tv with us tonight and Angel followed and hopped up next to her on the sofa for a cuddle. Next thing I know, Angel is half sprawled across Ari's lap just staring at her! This is really something to see, when poor Angel is SO DAMN BIG that when she lays on her side, her tummy looks like a mountain of white fur and her big butterscotch eyes show that she is.... weary. Ari was initially petting her head which was cute. But then? I watched my daughter slowly, tentatively, and gently stroke down Angel's most likely sore-as-hell back and rest her hand on her distended tummy.

What was beautiful was the look of wonder and joy on my baby's face when she felt the kittens move against her palm. I know just how she felt. Even me, at 33, *shudder*when I feel the kittens move against my hand or watch her tummy bounce moves me. The look of awe on Arianna's face was something else. Poor Angel just layed there, half on Ari's lap staring at her upside down until something on TV caught her intrest (yes, the cat loves TV.), then back to Ari again.

I'm glad that I have taught Arianna a love of animals.Z likes some animals also, but only pedigree ones. Me? I just love critters, and thankfully, so does my baby. She has no fear of big dogs either (like her dad). She brazenly walked right up and started petting a HUGE English Mastiff at a house we were looking at last week. (Ok. Well, right after I started petting him. I guess she figured he didn't rip my arm off yet, so he was ok!) In fact, he followed us everywhere and ended up flopping on the floor on Ari's feet for a belly scratch.

She didn't like the house at all.... but asked if we could have the dog instead. Heh. That's my girl.