Beetle Mania

Just a quick little heads up that a couple months ago I got a smart phone. The excellent spelling and grammar you're all used to finding here might be a little less great than normal since I can't even see what I'm typing. I'm going to do my best, but I kind of really miss using my laptop. Unfortunately, my laptop is bulky and annoying and I've decided to just take my chances with my smart phone. Anyway, without further ado, let's get to the first real post I've made in months.

Most summers, my biggest problem is not the heat, but the spiders that the nice weather attracts. Every year I try to love summer. I take all of the precautions to keep spiders out of my home and my car. I spray the house with a repellent, I don't open windows that have holes in the screens, I never open the windows to my car unless I'm in it and driving.
Even when entering rooms, I scan the ceiling for spiders that are clearly waiting for me to walk under them. You may be thinking that what I do is excessive. That I'm overreacting. That I'm paranoid.
All of that is correct. But not without good reason.
When I was 16 I walked into my room to go to bed. It was a rare day that I had made my bed, and there, purched on top of my comforter, was a spider. A big, hairy wolf spider. Naturally, I screamed as if I were being attacked and my mom ran into my room. I pointed to where the spider had been, but it had scurried to the other side of the bed and was out of view. My mom thought I was hallucinating and told me to go to bed. I made her look for the spider she was so sure I had imagined, and she killed it.
That was only one of many bad experiences with spiders. Just a couple weeks ago I walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth, didn't check the ceiling when I walked into the room, and when I finally did look up, I saw a spider dangling above my head. Twitching.
I'm fully convinced that spiders do all that they can to scare me.
Other insects, though? I try to give them the benefit of the doubt. If they don't bother me, I won't bother them.
But this summer I made a new insect enemy.
Beetles.
I had just returned from taking my grandma grocery shopping. It was 90º in June and I had my car windows open.
When I pulled into her driveway and parked the car, my grandma immediatly started to get out of the car and make her way inside. I rushed to help her since she's 87 years old and isn't very steady on her feet.
After I escorted her inside, I spent maybe five minutes helping her put away groceries before I headed home. When I got back to my car, I realized I had left the windows open for the first time. I opened the door to see a beetle about two inches in length crawling around the floor of the drivers side. I tried to get it out of the car, but it scurried under the seat before I could do anything. I thought to myself, what's the worst that could happen? It will probably just mind its own business and I'll worry about it later. It was 90º and I wanted to go home.
So I get in my car and I'm almost halfway home when my left knee feels a little itchy. I go to scratch my knee when I feel a lump.
No, I thought. There's no way. I thought it must be the seam in my pants that I was feeling. I told myself I was being paranoid thinking it was the beetle.
Then it moved.
I freaked the fuck out. Luckily, I had the windows rolled up, so no one could hear me screaming. I gathered the fabric of my jeans to trap the beetle so it couldn't move. Next,  I decided to take my pants off. When my car started moving I realized I should put my car in park first. Then I balled my pants up on the passenger seat, covering all possible exits so as not to let it out again. Then I drove home in my underwear.
Luckily, I live in the woods and exiting my car and getting into my house wasn't a problem. My only stroke of luck that day was that I wore underwear that looked like it could be a bikini bottom, so if my neighbors saw me it wouldn't look as weird.
Anyway, I got the beetle to leave my pants and I got it outside. Then I washed my pants.
At least only one beetle attacked me, right?
Wrong.
Only a week later, a beetle followed me into the office where I work when I had come in from being outside. It was going after lights at first, but then it abruptly charged at me and I dove under the desk.
I stopped hearing the buzzing, so I came out from under the desk and got back to work.
Ten minutes later, I go to scratch my back, thinking my bra strap wasn't where it was supposed to be, when I felt something hard.
It was on my back the whole time.
I started to take my shirt off, but then I remembered where I was and I went into the bathroom to get rid of it.
My summer was not super great.

My Poorly Planned and Hilarious Blowjob

Disclaimer: This post turned out to be a lot more graphic than I originally intended it to be. If you would like the shortened version, ask me and I will send it to you. Also, if you for any reason respect me, you should not read this. Feel free to keep living in your fantasy world where I have not done terrible things. Otherwise, read on! :)

My sophomore year of high school remains my favorite year ever. It was the year I started what I consider “real” dating.

          Freshman year I had a couple boyfriends. But neither relationship was very fun.

          By sophomore year I was determined to stop being so innocent. I guess a lot of girls feel this way at that age. But few actually accomplish much.

          I got lucky.

          In my sophomore year I was trying to find my balance between pretty and smart. I had been both in my life and I had been neither.

          I found a nice balance between the two and this secured me a boyfriend and grades that would not make my home life terrible for me. Things were looking up.

          Everyone has a moment where they are faced with a sexual task that they are unfamiliar with. With experience, anyone can become a master. And this year of my life gained me a lot of experience.

          For the record, most high school sophomores are about 16. I was not.

          I graduated at 17. This made me 15 during my sophomore year.

          Unlike the guys I had dated the year before, this guy was open to a lot. He was also inexperienced. This was perfect. Pairing someone that was familiar with sex with someone who is not can end terribly. That was a lesson I would learn later in life. Or the next year. But this story is not about that. This is the story of how I turned almost every encounter with my boyfriend into oral sex.

           To this day I cannot recall the first time I gave oral. I DO remember doing a lot of research on it first, though.

          I didn’t care if I was his first or not. I wanted to be the best. I wanted this guy to look back and think of how awesome I was. I did it to be remembered. So I would always look back on the relationship and feel accomplished.

          This proved to be very successful.

          Like many successful things, it soon backfired on me.

          I also gave him oral because I thought it would increase my chances of having sex with him. At 15 I was very horny. And we did almost have sex a few times. But to be honest, I don’t think he was ready. He always “forgot” the condom. Or he “didn’t want his first time to be in a public place”. To me, this was silly. I would have fucked him anywhere. Once I wanted it so bad that I stupidly said “I don’t care about the condom. If anything happens, I’ll get rid of it. JUST FUCK ME!” and he considered it. Thankfully, he was able to control himself briefly and declined. It was not my proudest moment. But we were both still very horny. And in school. After a lot of fondling, we were satisfied.

          However, after he experienced oral from me things did not go as I had planned. I was so fucking good at oral that he was fairly uninterested in anything else.

          I didn’t really mind too much. I got fingered a lot and I enjoyed giving oral. We did it mainly in school and in movie theaters since neither of us could drive anywhere yet. We hadn’t even taken Driver’s Ed. When we had no way of seeing each other, we would sext and have phone sex. I didn’t have a cell phone at the time, so we emailed naked pictures to each other instead. Then I would talk on my home phone and we would have phone sex for hours. This possibly increased my how much of a whore I’ve become more than all the oral.

          Anyway, almost every weekend for nearly four months I went to the movies with him and sucked him. In fact, during those four months I was probably engaging in more sexual activities than anyone else in my grade. (Except maybe the pregnant girl. Coincidentally, her name was Anna. One letter away from my name. Girls with any variation of my name must have awesome sex. I refuse to believe that any “Ana”, “Anna”, “Anastasia”, “Anastacia”, etc. is not good in bed.)

          I wish I could say that I am not proud of this. I really do. I would love to say that I was a stupid 15 year old that was desperate for sex and throw in some excuse that would forgive my actions.

          But while most of that is true, I have no regrets.

          I even had a strategy.

          Every week I would look at what movies were playing. Then I would look at how long the movies were and pick the longest one that had a PG13 rating.

          I do not remember a single moment from any movie that I saw. In fact, out of months of going to movies, I can only remember the names of four:

          The Tale of Despereaux, Coraline, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Hotel for Dogs.

           I remember the theater for The Tale of Despereaux being very crowded and that did keep me from going down on him. Barely. I just gave him a hand job and a lot of hickeys instead.

          The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was the longest movie we saw. I believe it was almost three hours. This gave me more time to give him an awesome blowjob.

          Twice.

          It is my best work to date.

          But no one cares about a good blowjob story. That is meaningless.

          I’ve given tons of good blowjobs and I almost never discuss them.

          That is because my funny blowjob story is way better and people actually care about it.

          It happened during Hotel for Dogs.

          I will never forget that day.

          In case you’re wondering how we ended up seeing Hotel for Dogs, we had gone through all of the PG13 movies. We were forced down to PG. It probably wasn’t the first time that had happened, but it was the most memorable.

          The notable part of this comes in when you think about the audience of a PG rated movie. Especially one that has a lot of cute dogs.

          There will be children in the theater.

          A lot of children.

          We anticipated this, as we had encountered the problem before, and we followed our normal strategy and picked a seat in the back where no one would notice us.

          This has never been a problem in the past.

          The movie theater guy would make a round. He would leave and I would get started. My boyfriend had gotten very good at noticing when someone was coming in.

          He would alert me to get up, he’d cover his junk and we’d pretend to watch the movie for twenty seconds.

          Then we’d continue.

          Well, on that day he was off his game a little bit.

          He was off his game because I was on mine.

          I was doing such a good job that he neglected to notice the door opening on the right side of the theater.

          I didn’t notice because I was sucking his dick and facing to the left. (I opted to bend over instead of getting on my knees to decrease our chances of getting caught. Until that moment, everything had gone very well.)

          From what he told me later, a woman walked in with her son.

          Her son looked to be about three years old. And he likely saw us.

          She walked in, said “JESUS!” covered her son’s eyes and dragged him out of the theater.

          And then she came back in.

          And sat in front of us.

          I have no idea why she did this, but it pissed me off.

          I did not want her in front of me. If I continued to give my boyfriend a blowjob, she would sense it. She might even turn around. I did not want to be there.

          I should also mention that she felt the need to bring her kid to see the movie when half of the movie was over. That’s what caught us so off guard. It was a weird moment to show up to the movie. The movie theater dude had already made his rounds. And no one had gotten up from their seat.

          Anyway, we both really wanted to continue, so we moved to another seat in the back and I went down on him again.

          From what I was told later, the woman kept looking over at us.

          I’m not sure how he stayed hard, but he did.

          That is the story about how I possibly traumatized a small child.

          And how the child’s mother watched me give a blowjob in the middle of a PG rated movie.

Freshman Orientation

At freshman orientation I decided I was done being shy. I was going to talk to people. Lonely people, pretty people, people that looked like they would be funny, whatever. I was going to do it. The fear that I would be ignored was gone. I was going to be social and people would fucking love me.
Then I met Edgar. Kind of.
I first encountered Edgar when my friend Chris (actually, more of an acquaintance) abandoned me to hang out with some fellow art majors. I don’t understand art, so I actually just eased out of the conversation and walked away. But I felt slightly abandoned. I really don’t think they even noticed. This didn’t bother me at first. I mean, I was no longer shy. I’d just find someone else to talk to. I looked around and saw a kid sitting all alone at a table. His nametag said Edgar. He looked Asian. But a pretty Asian. I find that really rare. I mean, a lot of Asians are hot. I just normally can’t find myself liking their face. Edgar had a nice face. So I walked over, sat down and said hi. I was bubbly, happy and I looked pretty that day. I cannot explain why the following occurred. But he said nothing. Not only did he not respond, but he didn't show any signs of acknowledging that I spoke. I thought maybe I wasn’t loud enough. So I waited a little while and listened to my iPod. Then I completely missed something important that was said by one of the orientation people. So I asked Edgar what they said. And I was not quiet. I said “HEY! DID YOU HEAR WHAT THEY SAID? I MISSED IT!” I was probably only slightly quieter that that voice in your head as you read that. And still, he showed no sign that he heard me. So I thought maybe he was deaf and I followed a crowd of people and met up with Chris again. For the remainder of the day I continued trying to be social with varying levels of success. During the quiet moments I pondered if it was possible to have sex in a tree. I hope to deliver an update on that sometime. Anyway, the next day we picked our classes and were sorted into our rooms by our majors. Chris and I were in the same room because Arts and Languages were together. Guess who else was an art major? Edgar. Fucking Edgar. I almost sat with him. I was almost like “This kid WILL fucking talk to me. He might not fuck me, but he’s going to at least TALK to me!” but I still thought he might be deaf at that moment, so I sat near Chris instead. The teacher and a couple upperclassmen that know things walked around helping us choose classes and answered any questions we had. Pretty much everyone had questions. Except for Edgar. Of course. So eventually the teacher dude asked Edgar how he was doing. I expected to hear silence followed by the teacher rushing to find a sign language book. But instead Edgar responded. He wasn’t even fucking deaf! He just didn’t want to talk to me! And he was texting during my attempts. So not only did this jerk ignore me, make me think he was deaf AND miss some housing meeting (the important piece of info I missed while listening to my iPod) but he was also probably talking to his friends about some weird girl that was happily screaming at him.
So, I've been living on campus for a couple weeks now. And I suck at meeting people. Everyone probably thinks I’m an anti-social freak and you know what? I totally blame Edgar.
Fuck Edgar. Except I couldn’t. Because he was a jerk.
Oh, and, did I mention the first thing my orientation roommate saw when she woke up was my half naked, wet body? That happened too.