NQR HNT (WTF?)

For one thing it's no longer Thursday, at least not in this part of the world. However I'm not waiting another week to post this.

I don't find the photo sexy at all, but it being me I wouldn't! It was more of a joke in my mind, a spoof of a moment in a movie I liked as a teenager. In the film Empire Records the employees find out the store is in danger of losing it's cool indie status and being swallowed up by The Man. Damn the man as they say themselves. They find the new uniforms, gross orange aprons and a list of what employees may or may not wear. The fairly-soon-to-be-famous Renee Zellweger playing the film's slut character has a rebelling scene in which she wears the new uniform with only her sexy, lacy black bra and panties on saying, "And they said no revealing clothing."
  

We've had OUR new aprons for, gosh, a couple of months already. I was so disappointed when I found out you had either a choice of wearing that or a yellow and blue hi vis shirt. Although those shirts can on occasion look sexy on the right type of tradie I find them absolutely disgusting. There is more than a bit of the snob coming out of me when I say it feels like it's branding me in the worst way as a cleaner/low income worker. I don't understand what was so wrong with the white shirt I was wearing before and still wear most of the time underneath the apron. In fact the shirt has the company logo on it whereas the apron doesn't. I'm getting used to it but still find the apron a bit cumbersome. For example the strings if untied fall into the toilets when I'm bending over them. Gross. It's just something extra that doesn't seem necessary at all. And so my protest-cum-ode to its existence is the mock HNT. (I'm not completely sold on the HNT tradition either).

Terry's arousal from helping me get this photo taken was surprising. (The photo doesn't exactly flatter). I wasn't going for that effect when posing. So it was a surprise to see Terry poking out and looking at me expectantly. I think I genuinely said, "Oh hello!" It didn't take me long to get on board and take advantage of the situation. Unfortunately my mum come home before either of us could.

It's not ideal having your fella stay with you when you're still living at home. Picture day was the second case of coitus interruptus. The previous time I thought I heard my mum's car pulling up but you guessed it I was wrong. We didn't really get much intimate times at all. My bed's a bastard at giving the game away - squeak! My mum subtlety offered us the couch when we were all together so I did lie on his lap from time to time. I couldn't get to the kissing in front of her stage, not even on the cheek. Arm around his shoulder or hand on his head was about it.
  

Returning to the work theme I have to say things have taken a dive. Not long after being told I was officially going up to 4 hours a day I suddenly and without no explanation went back to my original shift. That lasted around of pay, so a fortnight. I'm half way through the current round and have been given a few extra hours here and there but it's still a bit of a blow financially. The problem for me is the more often I do my original shift the less I can justify staying on and not going on the dole.

My dole fears are mostly about never getting another job, except possibly cleaning,again! I've been on it before and hated it. I stayed off it a couple of times at the expense of my savings. Just this week I started looking for work again. Didn't see much but did apply to Hungry Jacks online and got rejected barely a couple of hours later.

There doesn't seem to be anything out there for me. And after all this time I don't feel like I can do anything except donkey work. Which was kind of what my mum said to me on Wednesday when I was telling her I got some overtime that day that went to 9:30; and yet I still didn't finish it all! She suggested I do cleaning or something equally uninspiring at an elderly home. That really upset me because it felt like my mum had given up on me. I told her so later after I'd gotten over the initial hurt. We talked it out. Her point was if you have to do shit work then do it during the day. (Fair enough, I guess). My main issue is I don't want to be a cleaner at all. The comment reminded me of times when people ask what I do and when. I hate the reply of can't you do it at another time or somewhere else. Fuck sake that's not what I hate about it! I don't want to be doing it at all. Give me a little more credit, please. Oh and I'm not to fond of the "Someone's got to do it," response either. You know no one wants too and why the hell does it have to be me?

God! I think I better go back to living one day at a time rather than thinking of being in this job for the long term. The more I think about it like that the more I want to give up altogether. (You know what I mean). No future; no point.
  
 

Sexy Old Man

You know one old man I really fancy? John Mahoney.

He was still pretty good looking in the early days of Frasier. He started to look like an old man near the end of the show. I found him very sexy and so much nicer than Frasier and Niles in terms of character (well okay looks too!)

Working it out he would have been 56 when the show first went to air and almost 66 when it ended. Sexy as he damn well is! I couldn't be seen in public with him. It never looks right. “Uncles” and sugar daddies; I don’t know who comes across worse? The old man or the young woman? Of course it’s all personal. As a feminist - and I feel I am one - do I then have to ask myself how I feel about the situation when the genders are reversed? That is, when it’s an older woman, a so-called cougar, with her toy boy? I don’t think I care! I mean this torment is all about me! How do I feel being seen with Terry or any man significantly older then me? Seen as a couple that is. I mean we talked about playing father and daughter in public but I don’t want that. I’ve waited 29 years for someone who wants me for more than sex. I’m not going to pretend I’m not dating them. Why should I? But then I can’t deal with the age difference and the image we’d cast.

What is wrong with me? Why is it that only men of a certain age take notice of me? At first it seemed to be a combination of married and older men. When they are married I reason they were just desperate for anyone to fuck, even me! It hasn't always been that personal or that intense; that is I'm not going to be the love of their life. I'm just the "relief" on the side. I still feel bad for their wives but I also reckon, "If not me then someone else." And it usually is me and a few someone elses. In some ways I’m just too easy to bed. Am I such a freak that it takes a mature taste to see anything worthwhile in me? It’s not bloody fair.

I want to be part of a couple. Run my fingers on the back of his neck – yes his. Being with a woman publically would freak me out as much as being with a man that's too old for me. I’m not a lesbian, bi-curious – bye bitch! – at times, but even then the “experimental” urge hasn’t been that strong, or even seriously there for a long time. Anyway, I’m running my fingers through his hair as we’re waiting for something. Time goes on and I rest my head on his shoulder and he takes my other hand and gives it a squeeze. A tired and content look on his face then a smile and a look in his eyes that says he can’t wait to get back into bed for an encore of last night. I grin back and blush – I can’t help it! Besides, I can’t wait either.

I enjoy Terry’s attention. (Well I'm sure I’ve already said that. I've never been so loved). I can talk to him openly. I have shared most of my deepest, darkest burdens. I’m still worried in some ways about the issues I've raised, but it has been good to talk to someone about them. Like taking a deep breath after holding it for too long. He is my best friend. However the age difference and gender difference can make it awkward. (Perhaps that’s just in my head). But I’m repeating myself (as I’m prone to).

I enjoy the attention from Ash and Garry too but they’re married and it’s not as constant as Terry’s. Sometimes I feel sorry for him. I mean if I’m the highlight of your day – or life by the sounds of it – then I’d want my money back from God, or whoever. [I’m not really happy with how that came out. If anything Terry that’s meant to be a put down of me not you; I never want to hurt you! Although that’s all I can see happening in the end. Crap! Shit! Fuck!] Looking at it another way it’s quite a thing to say about someone. Perhaps I’m just not romantic enough. Being suspicious of romance deep down.

It’s easier when they’re married. Strange to say since I obviously don’t relish being a bit on the side. Sometimes I wish I was a courtesan. A companion and a lover, smart, talented and spending my time with rich men. Oh yes! I think I’d have to be better at sex first! I’m easily used; do I have to enjoy it if I’m a courtesan? A hole, a mouth, I’d rather not be an arsehole, hands, tits; the whole package.*

*Package may or may not include anal. Please consult your service provider or increase your chances and stop off at an off-licence first.

As a sex act anal does not appeal to me. I have done it, not entirely convinced or willingly, it hurt and didn’t turn me on at all. Having, “It feels delicious,” in my ear in a pleading tone doesn’t help either. Don’t think I did it with him. He did not break on through to the other side. I’d had my anal experience by then, not again. You can go down on me if you want though. (Of course I didn’t say that).

I wish I could accept my body, (hair and face included), it would make life and sex so much easier.