Friday, December 24, 2010

No no no!! Don't TELL ME!

A friend of mine tried phone sex, tried to tell me about it and I pretended to listen. I guess I’m actually a prude when it comes to listening to DETAILS about my friends’ sex lives. The trouble is, I have a graphic imagination and the more details you give me, the more I picture it and then I have to stuff my fingers deep into my ears, clamp my eyes shut and SCREAM “La la la la la la la La La La La La La LA LA LA LA LA LA LA….get out of my head, you moron…get out of my head…GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY GODDAM HEAD!!”

Trust me, its sooooooooo much worse when your friends are doing it…I mean, this one boy you NEVER ever even thought of in those terms, who you’ve always thought of as a good friend who is completely A-sexual coz it was better not to even think that he had “that” side to him…EWWWWWW!…and your really good friend…ew ew ew ew ew! Too bloody much information!! And imagine that really good friend actually WANTING to discuss the physical details with, of all the people, YOU (ME!). Yeap, thatz what happened…but unfortunately, it didn’t end there. Due to various space-related issues that involved strict grandparents, booze, laptops and cold nights, I (okay, I wasn’t the only victim) had to sit through their slurpy face-sucking noises, among other touchy feely PDA things. I think they single(four?)-handedly put me off booze for good.

This is ironic because before they all actually became “sexually active,” (hahahahahahahhahahahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEhhOOOOOOOOO), we girls decided we would tell each other all the details when it eventually happened to us. I’m the only one left here on the sidelines, unsurprisingly….and I DON’T want to hear ANY of the details, thank you very much. I don’t know if this happened to any of you, but when you discuss sex with your girlfriends, its all great when you talk about what would be toe-curling awesome when there is no face to the guy whoz gonna curl your toes. It’s a whole different story when you’re actually getting some action. Your girlfriends begin to turn all cagey all of a sudden and in the beginning, you hate them for it. Once some of my friends got married, we’d all ask them “how was it?” with eager faces, raised eyebrows full of wonder, glee and sick sick curiosity! Their replies would be hilariously disappointing, sometimes even bordering on clinical “cleanliness”. One gal said “Yes, it was all normal.”!!?? Another one asked ME questions!! “It took me fourteen days of pain before he could put it in all the way! Is that normal???” HOW THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW?? It was ridiculous that this chick was asking me, when I was already equal parts jealous that she gets to do it and I don’t and just as scared listening to her stories. 14 FUCKING NIGHTS OF PAIN?? ARGHHHHH!

Okay, yes, I’ve read more than any normal girl’s share of Mills and Boons and thankfully, the even raunchier American soft-porn novels. I SHOULD know, right? WRONG. They are completely over dramatized, made cloyingly sweet and there is nothing but sex pervading the emotions of those characters. I eventually outgrew them too. Thankfully, some of the real characters in my life began to let me know from their experiences that mostly it’s awkward, but “nice.” (Yea…that was soooo enlightening!) So it’s not all gorgeous raw animalism. There apparently is an element of awkwardness, clumsiness and possibly farts? (Courtesy: Cosmo). BIIIIIIIIG SIGH of relief. So right, you can be a normal sweaty human being and still have sex. I qualify…woooooohoooooo!

And then, I finally kissed a boy; owing mostly to cold nights, but also to the booze and toilet-plunger-noise-making friends I mentioned earlier. When so many are “getting some” all around you, it’s difficult to be a nun forever. Not that the kissing really counts, but face-sucking is better than not fucking, right?

When my girlfriend asked me how it was, I just said “Nice. It was really nice.”

Saturday, December 11, 2010

My Pussy has no (Proper) Name I donno what to call my pussy when I'm trying to think in Telugu. It's sad enuff that I hardly think in Telugu anymore, but well...occasionally, I do have the odd mustachioed-south-Indian-guy fantasy! (yes ladies, I'm one of those almost-extinct chicks who likes guys with mustaches and DONT GAG! I like it) And as much as I'd like to continue all the erotic talk (??) in English, it does come up short (haha!). No matter how much we've all Anglicized/Americanized ourselves, some shit just cannot be said in Engl-peech!

To prove my point, inspired by the Vagina Monologues, i smsed my girlfriends (who come from all corners of India, btw) to tell me what the word for "vagina" was in their mother tongue...the PROPER, everyday word...not the slang/derogatory names nor the formal, "literary" word. Only one chick managed to give me a word. (FYI, 'sazu' in Mizo.) Moreover, only some of them knew the word(s), but they were invariably curses, the root words of curses or the "formal" words. Let me also throw in that all of these girls are highly educated and read voraciously, albeit mostly in English, I guess. The relevance of this fact is that they are all also sexually aware and some are sexually active. Oh balls...they all have atleast read Mills and Boons atleast once and I am prolly safe in assuming that they've all also watched porn.

I wonder how many actually masturbate tho. Yea, cant ask all of them. I know some tried and didnt know how just let it be. Some, luckily dont have to (Gawd, I hate you!) and some, like me, have made it their nightly ritual.THAT is why it takes me so long to sleep, Mom, altho I'm dog tired! Coz it effin takes FOREVER to get there. I'm turning 25 soon...and long ago, I promised myself a vibrator for this birthday. I know its not happening and the worst thing is, even if I laid my hands on one, I wudnt use it. The "Indian Gal" in me still thinks it is shameful. But screw it, even in a moment of desperation, HOW WUD I GET ONE?? Oh the shame of being seen anywhere around a sex toy shop...oh wait, they dont even HAVE them in India! WTF!

I digress, but I'm talking about getting toys for a body part that doesnt even have a name. Its only a disgusting one friend jokingly called it, "Where the Sun Never Shines," something to curse. Or, its a holy place, elevated to the SACRED. References to the Shivalingam, of course. But when do we actually get to just talking about it and having fun?? Why does my pussy remain nameless even today, when we have reached to the prestigious position of the second most populated country in the goddam WORLD??

Monday, December 6, 2010

Blame the Mirror

Needless to say, I have a distorted image of my body. I have been "chubby" since 4 and I've jumped to "obese" within a year of landing up in the obesity country. Apart from the innumerable times I wondered what life would have been like if we hadn't moved to the US of A, going over and over the frantic life-altering possibilities of all the "what ifs" and "if onlys," I sometimes wonder if I was actually moderately okay before the move or was it only after we moved back again to India that I began to like my body. It was definitely NOT during the HORRIFYING US years! I prolly can NEVER forgive dad for putting me through high school in the US, despite all the benefits I've reaped from it. Or have I already? Who knows...thatz another blog anywayz.

The very first time I was made to realize i was fat was in lower kg...YES! It was as early as that...and it was my teacher. We had all been issued the school belts and it was her duty to put them on each of her tots. 1) If ONLY she got lazy and just gave each one their belt! But who knows, even mom or dad could've said it, I guess..."You need to cut down on the sweets, MFG." *(I shall hereby refer to myself as MFG, ya'll.) Can't blame her...but I do...wat the fuck! I dont care if she meant it affectionately of watever effin better be nice to fat kids! they're the smart ones and they'll get u in the end...MUHAHAHAHAHa. Anywayz, back to my sob story. Oh gawd, i'm eventually supposed to get to mirrors! Screw it, I'm starting right now...

Back in India, after licking my wounds from the *terrifying high school years*, I actually went to a pretty safe place and had tremendous fun. For obvious reasons, I didnt have too much trouble fitting back in with the crowd in India, despite the reverse culture shock. This time, i guess I was ready for it...there were times when it DID suck tho, but that's just time. (another blog, again!) When you are feeling good about yourself and people actually NOTICE you, I guess its not so hard to realize "Hey, I'm not so bad afterall!" I did well...hell, I was bloody awesome...or could've been if I'd worked my ass off. Never been ambitious it was all good. And I gradually acquired girl qualities! Holy fuck...not all mirrors are bad...and hellz yea...I CAN pull off wearing jeans (hehe) and actually....I'm not THAT fat, really! WHOAAAAAAAAAa...that was a big one, coz...wait a minute, was I going backwards? Was I getting so defensive that I began to see too good an image in the mirror? This still happens to me. I spent considerable time in front of mirrors...altho not as much as "real girls," and I actually LIKE the way I look...I have killer eyes...altho they're small and not at all the typical beauties that Indian chicks should have. My hair, despite me going almost bald, ROXXXXXX! (Thank you, God...thank you SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much!) and I have a really endearing smile. I am, what you would call..."cute," altho, "uglycute" prolly says it much better. And the lower bits are actually not that bad either. I have seen pix of naked ladies on the net...and...ummm...some do give me a complex, but not that much...I'm not that bad!
Then again, I guess it depends on the mirror....I used to think it was the lighting...i would look better when the light fell on my face (duh!), but no...thatz not it. For example, the mirror in my room and my loo...neither of them has a light above it and I look pretty darn good in 'em...but the one in my parents' room (yes, I still live with my parents at 25..ugh! :() is NOT good...I always look shorter and fatter in it. I've always had "good" mirrors and "bad" mirrors....well, since my return to the homeland...dont remember about the before now. I wonder what this it a flaw in the mirror? do I have a bizarre inferior superior complex (wait a min, wat the fuck is that exactly?)? HOLY BALLS!! What does this all mean? How do I really know how i look to OTHER ppl?? I hope I figure this out one day...coz, its no good however many mirrors i get...I cannot figure out how the others SEE me!
One things for sure tho...the picture-in-picture mirrors in trial rooms are unceasingly cruel. I never want to see myself in the real 3D sense! I guess the capitalists just hate me....I dont fit in their assembly-line boxes.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

My First Rant

I've never worked in an office where I had to interact a lot with guys my age...who are married!! Being as awkward as I am with guys in general, I have NO idea how to behave with...umm...the married it okay to be friendly? How do you know exactly how friendly you can be? HOLY FUCK...don't want to make any faux pas in the new office. (not that I've had this kind of a problem...but someone thinks I might have something like it if I'm not careful. WAT THE BITCH...thatz another blog tho!) I hate it that I have to defend myself in situations like these, but I am obliged to give some background info. I've recently had a bad experience with a really close friend and I still have no fucking idea how it fucking happened! Ew ew ew ew ew...well...he kinda "got close" to me in a way I didnt want and didnt invite. I DID NOT LIKE IT!! Needless to say, i freaked out BIG TIME and made a holy mess of the whole situation. But it absolutely had to be done and I think I handled it pretty maturely considering EVERYTHING...which is really saying something when you are talking about a chick like me. I'm just sad it happened...but I guess I'm still not over wondering if I somehow contributed to the situation although I'm convinced I didnt. All the girlfriends (much more sensible and experienced than me) that I checked with said I really shouldn't bother thinking along those lines. The friend screwed up, period. But, maybe it the Indian thing or maybe its coz I'm a girl (as much as I'd like to pretend I'm not) or maybe I'm just plain moronic...but I do still bloody wonder if I did something that led to this bizarre, horrible incident. And hence, now I question and second guess everytime I talk to a member of that species...maybe I shud just dig a hole and live in it forever. Thatz my first rant and hopefully it STAYS anonymous for a gazillion years.