Who Needs a Heart When a Heart Can Be… Ripped Out and Driven Over With Spikes While Singing the Macarena

So while visiting the family a month or so ago, everyone wanted to hear about the new guy. Of course I’m not really the type to go gushing about a guy except to close friends.  And some of my closest, well, I still haven’t discussed with them my Luke Wilson look-alike.  Not because I’m ashamed in any way. Dude is smart and hot and makes me giggle. But, I am a somewhat cautious person.


Especially when falling deeply and giving up those 3 special words. Ya know: I wuuuuubs you.


To me it’s funny that people were asking already. I mean, I know there’s love at first sight. I know some people have married after a couple of months whirlwind romance. Heck, I could have convinced myself when I was younger to just fall and let me land wherever.


But I’ve grown a little. And I don’t need any fresh scars. I try to learn from my mistakes.  So instead of just running with open arms into love, I’m trying to take it one day at a time. I’m not saying that I won’t let myself fall. It’s just that I won’t speed things up. I want to get to know this person I’m with inside and out. Build on that connection I felt when first meeting him. Not let our relationship be built on sex, but a combination of physical, mental, and emotional respect and honesty.


Those same people who seem perplexed that I’m not gushing in love are the same with many failed relationships and marriages. No offense to them, but I’m trying some different. I don’t want a whirlwind romance.  That’s the stuff of plays and novels. Romeo and Juliet frackin DIED for a so-called love at first sight.  No thank you, check please. I’ve had my meal at the restaurant of crazy.  How about I fall in lust first with his brain and personality. And then find comfort in the way he treats himself and me. The passion that’s brought up naturally between us.  Not hidden behind games or false faces. Not on anyone’s deadline.


I wrote all of that about a month ago. And then the other day I told him those words. And I got them said back to me.


I laugh at myself, but it came out naturally.





Um, yeah… I’d Rather You Had Herpes… and I May Be a Prude

I thought I was pretty open-minded when it comes to sexuality.

But nooooooope, I’m a prude when it comes to some things.

And that’s a very weird feeling for me…

I mean, in my past I’ve been pretty wild and freeloving. And even if it wasn’t something I wasn’t into, I would accept it of people I knew. Hey, as long as you weren’t raping or molesting (and by the way, animals can’t say no you weirdos) and everything was consensual, I wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

I must be getting old.

Because there’s a guy that knowing his situation makes it very hard for me to look him in the eye. And he makes my skin crawl.

Funny that I had a crush on him some months ago.

See, here’s the deal. I had one of those random attractions that I didn’t want and was doing my best to get rid of. You know how it is, some dude or dudette is not your type, you’d kind of feel ashamed if anyone knew and you just wanted the horror of your brain/attraction factor going wonky to STOP. There must have been pheromones involved. Because I finally broke it, but there was still a weird flutter. Until… The yuckiness factor.

Having a conversation one day with Mr. Not My Type led to him expressing that he was not single (still probably under the assumption that I was attracted, ugh). Instead, he (drunkenly) decided to tell me about his girlfriend. And her husband. And his girlfriend. And how they pretty much lived together.

I did what I do when I have no choice but to deal with a small child’s puke. Blank your mind DT5, this is NOT happening.

My inside face was like this. JUST LIKE THIS.

I managed to get out:

“Well, whatever floats your boat. If you’re happy, then good for you.” I am lying out of my bunghole!!!

He says “But it’s not. I’m ashamed, and want something better.” Dude, you just made my brain hurt on a day I was supposed to be enjoying myself.

See, here’s the deal. This is where my line is drawn and then underlined:

1. Call me old-fashioned but I believe in the sanctity of marriage.

2. “Love as thou will” is a philosophy that I live by. That means, as long as you’re not hurting yourself or others mentally/physically/emotionally. I got it from the book series Kushiel’s Dart. I have it tattooed on me. I live it.

And this guy is involved in something that hurts him. He says so. He is ashamed of his relationship. If they were all involved and saw nothing wrong, nothing to hide, then whoop-dee-frackin-doo. But they’re not. They are empty souls filling themselves with behaviors that excite the body, but do nothing for their hearts and spirits.

And I believe consensual caring sex to be one of the most spiritual acts you have. Yes, you heard me, good sex is right up there with getting the holy ghost. *Looks up* if I’m wrong, don’t worry, someone will correct me one day.

Anyways, I’m a prude. And I don’t want to know this information that dude friend has heaped upon me. And my crush was already gone though I still found him somewhat physically attractive. Now… Now it’s like if he came up to me and decided to mention to me that he has multiple STDs. He is the kind of guy I would touch with a ten foot pole. Even if I was drowning and that was the only way to save me. Even if there were sharks and crocodiles and clowns in that treacherous water. I’d just have to fight until my last breath.

I’m back with some BS: Defamation of my Muthafrackin Character

So, work has been like insane asylum with the furlough situation. And on top of that, I haven’t felt my best. Maybe because we’ve been working with no air conditioning on and off during this stupid record heat. And now that it’s over, I can get back to the posting.

I was sick to my stomach about a month or so ago. But it wasn’t physical. It was straight up mental/emotional. And maybe I make too big of a deal with things, but I’m a overanalyzer. This is my sin.

Anyway, I’m minding my own business, having a meh week at work. Honestly it was crappy. I blame hormones and the AC being out. You’d think the military could get ish fixed in a sufficient amount of time, but no. So no sleep and no AC in 100 degree weather makes Dimensionthe5th a very grouchy kitty. And its Friday. All I want for Friday is Hector the couch and a bottle of Riesling. What do I get: gossip. Rumors. About me and my very married male boss.

I could care less about those that want to talk about me. People always want to talk about others, especially if you don’t share anything but the superficial. And military guys and gals gossip worse than a sewing circle in BumFrack, Nowheresville. But, I truly got upset about this.

Why? Because, for one thing, if someone thinks I’d mess with my supervisor who is very happily married that means they think I have no morals. What’s the icing on the cake is apparently they assumed this because we seemed very close and everyone knows I date only white guys.

Exqueeze me? No, I don’t. I date whatever race attracts me at the time. AND, since no one in that building has seen any of my ex boyfriends, where the frack do they get this nonsense from. Is it because of my anime/sci-fi/comic book hobbies? Not chocolatety enough for them right?

Or maybe it’s because I speak proper English, and don’t like BET and shows like Real Housewives of Atlanta and The Game. Heck, the only reason I know the names of the shows is because of friends/family members talking about it.

The other thing that punctures my frackin pickle is that this dude just had a child with his wife. A newborn. We’d have to be some pretty unsavory characters to do something like that. And yes, I know there are many that do. Heck my own aunt slept with my dad while my mom was pregnant with me and IN THE HOUSE. Said aunt shall now be known as Hobacca. But no matter how strongly Hobacca and I look-alike, I am not her. Sure, I did my stupid sleeping with the wrong guy when I was still a wet behind the ears/ not even legal drinking age hot pants hoochie mama. But guess what, I grew up, got out of my depression, worked on my self-worth, and became an adult. So no. I don’t feel like I’m overreacting to the rumor. I can’t find out who first said it and spread it, but I did tell the person who let me know about it just how angry I am. That if they have so many questions about my personal life and want to know who’s between my legs… That if inquiring minds want to frackin know, they know where to find me. Bastards.

Dear Males of the Past: Frack You Very Much and Very Hard

I have a special little hate for all of you, even those that are still my friends. Whether those I broke up with, or broke off with me. Whether it was friends with benefits, or true love. You’ve all got a special little place of extreme distaste within the depths of my soul.

Ain’t that poetic.

I’m not a bitter person, I swear! I learn from my mistakes. Maybe not the first time since I’m a little thick-skulled, but at least by the third time. So, I don’t date thugs and knuckleheads anymore, because I’m older and wiser. I don’t date guys that want a house-wife/babymaker, because my tummy is closed from creating anymore little monsters, and I love my career too much to give it up for anyone. I’ve learned that I really can use online dating to filter out the craziness, and that’s great. Because of what those mistakes in the past taught me:

My past loves/lusts/WTFs have taught me many things. To listen when someone tells you they are no good for you. They’re probably right. That you can’t change people who don’t want to change. That you can’t change yourself for others. That someone you loved once and still loved, doesn’t stay the same over the years apart, just like you didn’t, so don’t expect the past to be the present. That baby momma drama is something for BET and MTV but not for dimensionthe5th. That if you can’t be honest at the beginning of a relationship, why expect truth in the future? That I never want to be a dominatrix, and I don’t want my man wanting me to use a strap-on. *shudder* That I cannot deal with eating in the bathroom… Just weirds me out dude.

They’ve taught me that just because you are in your early twenties and he’s in his forties, does not mean automatic maturity. Sheesh.

That you should always practice OPSEC and never let someone you “love” use your log-on information, because they may decide to look up she-males and foot fetish websites on the government’s dime… And come close to ruining your career… And security clearance. And have she-males contacting you for a threesome you DEFINITELY did NOT have any interest in participating in… *hold a second, I’ve got to keep the contents of my empty stomach down. Flashbacks, you know*

My past loves have taught me now to never settle for less than what is right in companionship, something I must remind myself as I stay alone instead of just hooking up with what’s available. My standards aren’t high, but over the years I’ve learned that settling does not make one happy, just ask my friends that are on their 3rd marriage. I told myself that when I found love, my commitment for life would happen once, and if for some reason it didn’t work, that was it. End game. No altar hopping. So I’ve held on to my “marriage virginity” with a tight fist… with some close calls that would have made life miserable. And I pffft at those that judge me for that. Like poor me. Poor me hasn’t had to change my last name multiple times – I’m good thank you very much.

But what was I saying? Frack you to the men of my past? Actually… Thank you. No matter how insane or soul crushing those moments may have been, you helped me learn to be me. Annnnd, that’s why I’m now online dating instead. So I guess I have to thank you.

But seriously, never let anyone use your log-on a government computer.

I Saw You Nakey Style in My Dreams!

So, while I’m in the midst of my adventures of online dating, I’m also dodging left and right well-meaning friends and their attempts to play at matchmaking. So far I’ve succeeded but they’ve messed my brain up also.

So one guy at my job was mentioned, since we have similar tastes and blah blah blah, we would be GREAT for each other! *rolls eye so hard they get stuck* He hadn’t crossed my mind at ALL before that moment. Until then. And now, muthafrack it I’m nervous and trying to get a good look at him when no one else is looking. He’s not bad-looking, but I don’t know him at all. I think I’ve probably had one conversation with him. But now its stuck in my mind. And if he catches me just staring at him, I may look like a stalker, or that I’m sexually assaulting him with my eyeballs.

On top of that, I had a dream about another guy at the office. I saw his nakey in the dream, and although we didn’t actually get to smexy times in the dream, I cannot look him in the eye. In fact, I just try to avoid talking to him. Because knowing how my mouth goes wonky and likes to word vomit out the most random things when nervous, I would tell him I saw him nakey in my sleep. And knowing me, I wouldn’t “wombit” (word vomit combined… Don’t ask how the b gets in there, it just does) when it’s just he and I. NO, I would probably wombit right on the smoke deck where everyone gathers. awkwardness level would be accelerated to over 9,000, and I would never want to come to work again. Luckily, I don’t see him often. Maybe a man would feel actually good about a random woman thinking smexy times with them by accident? I’m just preparing my “look on the bright side of life” outlook, in case this accident of epic proportions actually takes place.

I just need to actually find a guy on that stupid web dating site that isn’t weird-looking, likes curvy nerdy black girls, can write and talk at least at a high school education level, and doesn’t try to get me in bed first date. That way I can stop stalking and fantasizing about random dudes at the office. Because that’s weird. And I’m weird enough without extra sauce.



Smexy Times and Sugar, both bad, but oh so tasty!

So today after work was spent running around trying to get some replacement pieces to my costume for the anime convention I’m heading to tomorrow. *Sigh* Another downside to being extra curvy, couldn’t comfortably fit into the costume I ordered. Luckily, the alternative I found is actually more comfortable than the one I bought, even if it had fit right. I’m going as Medusa from Soul Eater. It looks soooo awesome. The Monster Teen is going to be rocking out in a full Ezio costume from Assassin’s Creed. We are proud geeks and our flag is gonna wave HIGH tomorrow!!! Lets see how much fun my back can take without me falling to pieces in pain. Percocet is my friend, Flexeril is my friend. Rinse and repeat. Anyways, on to what’s been bothering me lately.

I miss smexy times. Not enough to leg hump the nearest male, but my hand gets a work out *waggles eyebrows* if you know what I mean. I just hate the baggage that comes with it. Smexy times without a valid relationship doesn’t work for me. When you literally get sick to the stomach from a 1-nighter in your young and dumb years, you learn never to do it again. And that your conscience is a strong evil monster.

So I can’t have smexy time without a relationship. And a relationship that I feel is actually going somewhere. I made a mistake a couple of months ago of smexin with a friend I thought could be something more. Though I don’t regret it, I do. Yeah, doesn’t make sense, but I have no other way to explain it. Before that, I hadn’t been with someone for a loooong time. We’re talking more than months. And that last relationship wasn’t a good choice either. Never go backwards to a relationship that’s ended, is usually my motto, but there’s one man who I let back into my heart over and over. He trashed it plenty of times (after I first trashed his many years ago), to the point where after he told me he had a new girlfriend while I was deployed and miserable… Well let’s just say my knickers will never talk for my heart with him anymore.

So smexy times… I love them, and can’t have them without someone I really care about. New online guy seems cool, but I can’t yet see myself letting him get anywhere near my giggles n bits. But I have to be careful. I know myself. My giggles n bits have seriously rewired my brain when they feel they’re gathering dust. They’ll convince me that someone is worth letting in to my knickers, when my brain and all those wonderful kittens in my head are screaming No! I guess I’m somewhat like a guy in that moment because the wrong body part is doing the thinking for me. I even have two guys from the job already starring in random fantasies when I have those rare moments of free brain wandering.

Its better to be alone than miserable with someone, right? And I am happy with myself, about 90 percent anyway (the other ten is about my health issues and weight woes). So no smexy times for me in the near future… The giggle n bits brigade can just sit there and become a classic. Won’t they become worth more that way? 😉

And I’ll try to release as much genetic awesome contained in me as I can with geeking out tomorrow. Maybe it’ll take my time off of the missing of a nice set of twig n berries. Oh if only I could combine the two… Kinky role-play anyone? 😉