… that led to this article.

Do you ever wonder what other peoples “pee faces” look like? I pee a lot, and sometimes I know I make the most ridiculous pee faces ever. Especially when I should have peed like one hour prior… so I reeeeeeeeealllyyyy have to pee. It is probably closer to an orgasm face than a pee face.

I am so nosy.

I would totally be a fly on the stall wall, observing other people’s pee faces; giggling uncontrollably at them squint, and silently sigh as they finally let it all out.

I don’t want to be a fly on the wall for poo faces. No No No. Grunty faces aren’t interesting to me, especially because the present left after the grunts and groans and poots is stinky. I am not interested in being a part of another woman’s poo funk.

I would also be that proverbial fly on the wall during sex.

All sex. Gay sex, bi-sex, old people sex, group sex…. You wouldn’t really get a true idea of what other people’s sex behaviors are if they knew you were watching. People fart. Unattractive noises are made sometimes during position changes. The moaning is not necessarily as pretty sounding as the little girls on the movies.

I would perch my nosy, horny ass on their smoke stained wallpaper and watch them go at it.

I have had people watch D and I have sex… which was weird at first, but now that I think about it…. triple rawwwwrr. Watch me! And while you are at it, touch yourself while you are doing it. Why haven’t you joined in yet? I wanna make you call MY name out.

What?? Too bold??

Porn = a bunch of bullshit if you ask me. I mean … it is good for what it is … but nothing like the real thing. These sluts know that a camera is on them, so they absolutely put on a show. That is what they are paid for, right? I am inclined to say that porn doesn’t necessarily turn me off… but it isn’t really what I need to get the mood going. Well, with the exception of more than one girl going at it… and then really, it just makes me more mad than anything—because I really would rather just actually be with more than one girl, rather than watch them have all of the fun.

Wouldn’t you?

Sex makes me curious.

How does so’n’so give head? What is her secret technique to drive hubby over the edge? Does whatsherface like it in the butt? I wonder if thatonedude likes to really get into eating pussy? Or does he half-ass it? How many times does Ol’girl call out my name when she masturbates? Does she use a toy, or is she fingers only? Would thatonebitch really make out with me, or would she chicken out last minute??

I honestly have had at least one sexual thought about each and every one of my friends. I have also pictured myself on top of each and every one of them, as well… or were they on top of me???

Anysnatch….

Sometimes, when I masturbate I don’t think about anything. More often than not, I am not me… I am in someone else’s body, with their husband… or with more than one person. Sometimes I am the pleaser… sometimes I just lay there and let my fantasy take over and please me.

I am a toy kind of girl; a no-nonsense, get down to business girl who doesn’t waste any time sending me to that optimum climax. Sometimes I make myself cum more than once in a session. I have sent myself to that point so many times in one session that I cant even pee or wipe or touch it without pleasure-filled pain involved.

Do you picture people having sex, or wonder what their most private expressions are? Or is it just me … ?

[box]Got something you’d like to say? Check out our Writing for EC page for details on submitting to EdenCafe for a gift card![/box]

There are a lot of reasons to stay married. Albeit they might be stupid ones to some … but they are still reasons … nonetheless.

1) Divorce, like crack, is whack.

2) Tax breaks.

3) When you make a “death do us part” vow … I mean … it pretty much speaks for itself.

We have been going through it. D and I. It has been one of the many valleys in our hilly relationship. But that’s okay. If we lived on top of this plateau where the birds chirped all day and rainbows filled the skies above us … never experiencing any issues … I am sure that I would be overly bored, and would have kicked his ass off the cliff a long damn time ago.

I am a fighter. A knock-down-drag-out fighter.

If shit is not working, fine. I begin to dig in my toolbox of awesomeness to find the right wrench to fix whatever the problem is. That is how I grew up. I watched my parents work so hard at perfecting their marriage. They fought. My dad slept on many a couch. My mom cussed. But at the end of the day, they knew that there was no other option than to make it work.

So in this valley lies lack of communication between two people who love each other very much. When does your best friend become a total stranger? Why is it so difficult to say what would usually be the easiest thing to say? How do you reside in the same four walls and a roof, but it is almost as if there is no one else there but you?

Thank God we are beginning the climb back up to the top again.

All it took to begin the journey back up was a simple, yet meaningful conversation.

All is right in my Wicked world again. *grin*

If you could retract any one lie you have ever told, what would it be?

If you were given $5000 to spend in one store, what store would you spend it in?

[box]Got something to say? We’d love to hear it. Leave it in comments, or write your own post![/box]

As a woman who has been married for close to a decade, I am consistently asked how we keep the marriage alive.

“Simple,” I say “we learn how not kill one another.”

I am joking. Kind of. There comes a point in a marriage where two people either learn each other, or they opt out of the vows they took. It isn’t an easy come-to-Jesus type of situation. It just is what it is. Some of these realizations happen easily, and some happen stubbornly.

I think mine, like everything else in my life, has come stubbornly.

If I were to describe my marriage in less than five words, I would describe it as a “work in progress”. It is far from perfect, but it is manageable. Most times. Even in its darkest moments, my marriage has a way of being okay.

But is “okay” ever really enough?

This is one of the questions I have been asking myself as of late. When do the expectations of what a marriage should be, and the reality of what the marriage actually is, or has become, meet in the middle? When is ‘too little too late’ an applicable cliché if the partner who was not a very good one, decides to join the party? Where is the point where you start looking for marriage tombstones?

R.I.P. Marriage … it was good while it lasted.

So many of us give up too easily on life. Not just marriage. When a job pisses us off, we quit. When a friend makes a mistake, we cut them off. I try to always stick things out, to the point where metaphorically I am white knuckling whatever it is I am trying to hold on to … and I find that sometimes I held on too damn long, and that my efforts were wasted ones.

But is that really keeping a marriage alive? White knuckling it until I lose my grip? Probably not.

What I used to reply with when someone would ask me, adoringly, how I kept my marriage alive, would be “with romance” or “with constant effort”, because that is what I did. I made constant, tireless efforts to keep a (mostly) one-sided marriage alive. Maybe I should have been an artist because I painted this picture of amazingness to everyone on the outside; when in all honesty, it was far from it.

In all honesty, and this is probably going to sound horrible, if it weren’t for my two beautiful children, I would have given up already. And this marriage would have been 6 feet under long before I had words to write about it. A moot point if you will. In retrospect, growing up with my two loving parents, who are still in love, has a lot to do with these white knuckles of mine. I am proud of the fact that I can say I have both my parents willingly under the same roof. I feel like I could very well be doing my own children a disservice if I walk away. I know that is not the right way to look at things, but it is how I naturally assess things.

So how do I keep the marriage alive, you ask?

I smile through the b.s. and white knuckle through the rest. Sounds super healthy, and not at all dysfunctional, doesn’t it?

The moral of the story here is that neither I, nor you, nor Dr. Freaking Phil is an expert on anyone else’s life. And to be an expert on your own life, you actually have to live it, and live it honestly. Because without honesty, you will end up like me: struggling to figure out what to do with something so broken, that seemingly even super glue won’t hold it together anymore.

As a little girl, I always had those typical fantasies when it came to love and romance. Maybe they came from “Pretty in Pink” or “Say Anything” or “Pretty Woman”, all those movies I grew to know and love, and imagine myself in. They painted an ideal picture of love, but that premise is 100% a set up for relationship failure.

Okay, maybe 85%

The percentage of relationships that have the same romance that movies do is rare. Yet we hope and pray and expect that the one we choose to be with will, in fact, be that knight in shining armor. We expect that we are going to come home to a trail of rose petals and candlelight to the bedroom … just because it is the third Tuesday in April.

The truth is, these things rarely happen. Kids happen. Money problems happen. Life in general  happens. Then we’re 10 years into a relationship/marriage/babymommasituation, and have lost not only ourselves, but any hope of the fairy tale.

These reasons are why I really have ‘opted out’ of Valentine’s Day. To be frank, the holiday turns me off completely. That’s a lot to say for an overly sexual 31 year old woman. I cringe at the mere thought of the holiday. Let’s not bring up the fact that it is commercialized to no end. Let’s not talk about the fact that it is one day out of the year where people feel pressured to fawn someone with love, and gifts, and “romance”. Forced romance is no romance that I want to be involved in. Not ever.

I don’t want to be loved one day a year. I want to be loved 365 days a year, and two times a day, if I am so deserving. And when I say “loved”, I don’t mean showering me with blue Tiffany boxes, eleven million dozen roses, or even taking me to the most expensive restaurants for dinner. Simpler is better to me. As much as I love shiny things and gifts … it is unrealistic for most of us to expect them regularly. That doesn’t mean that a cute card, or your special someone’s favorite candy lying on the dashboard of their car in the morning for them to find on their way to work, is completely out of the question. Showing love can be things as simple as love notes written on the foggy mirror in the bathroom, or breakfast in bed. It can be as easy as making your special someone heart shaped cupcakes, or printing a cute picture of the two of you that has a special memory, with “I <3 you” written on the back of it.

I don’t want the person I am with to stress for two weeks prior to February 14th, on what the perfect gift might be. Or have them try to “top” the year before. What I want is for the person I am with to take that one big hooplah of an event, and spread it out all year long. Some rose petals here, a candlelight bath there … Because I truly believe that in those kinds of relationships the romance remains fresh. It doesn’t have 364 days to become stale.

It also makes February 14th easier that way. It doesn’t have to be a monumental event. It can be another day of awesomely expressing love for one another.

Because that is really what it is about, isn’t it? Making love? Making love far surpasses its traditional, sexual definition. There is so much more than that. People just haven’t gotten the damn memo about it. That fact, in itself, is so disappointing to me, because we are denying the people we love the most what they deserve, due to ignorance on the subject. I could write for days about small ways to show love rather than just saying it, but it all comes down to putting forth the thought and effort to show your special someone that you really care every day.

Call me a pessimist or a Valentine’s Day hater, if you wish. That is okay with me. I may very well be that. But that is only because I am a true believer of love. Being in love.
Making love work. I want to feel that feeling when love happens. The one where I could puke at any moment.

Some call it flutterbies. I call it a healthy, loving relationship between two people.

By Wicked Courtni