Warning... Graphic sex talk included...and a video!

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Terrance downloaded a free movie from iTunes called "Dealbreaker"

I must admit, that I was dubious at first, being in a somewhat shit-tae mood. However, he first warmed me up with two episodes of "30 Rock" (which may be the funniest fucking thing I have ever seen since Seinfeld). I was ready.

So he showed me the film. And I laughed. Hard. Snorted, in fact. Rolled about on the bed. I may have wept at one point from my hysteria.

And then I began telling him tales from the past of Dawn's dating. Oddly, and I know you all will find this hard to believe, but I hadn't before shared much about prior guys I dated with Terrance. I was not the most active gal in the dorm, but I wasn't a prude either. I had a time period between "serious relationships" in which I happily investigated the benefits of being a young woman in college. (Plus I was taking the advice of a certain 27 year old man with a failed marriage that I just needed to be more communicative with my Husband - to just TELL him...)

So, yes. I told him of the one who insisted on wearing socks during sex and how much that skived me out. I mean SOCKS! during SEX!

The one who made disconcerting noises during his final act. I'm all for the sounds of sex, but I worried I was going to have to resuscitate him. He sounded as if he was having an event, and it sounded medical in nature.

The one who's penis was so small that I understood the old joke about "Is it in?", or the one who smacked my ass at the Wrong time, or the one who so clearly knew nothing about female anatomy and I had to endure the worst oral sex of my life, for far too long, but I felt badly because you know - he seemed so enthusiastic.

Of course, I included the ones who never made it as far as my bed because they had said something incredibly Bad during the prelude phase. You know, the insulters, the assholes, the pompous. The ones who say things like the guy in the Youtube video below? The ones you wonder about how they will ever attract a mate and then fear that they will and then these two people will reproduce! ARGH! You know, the ones who during their "opening" conversation give you in detail their opinions of fellatio and how they need to have it, and have the woman swallow in order to have a truly fulfilling sexual experience?

What do you say to that? "Congratulations!"??

Or the one with whom I was kind of fooling around in college who simultaneously called me a Whore and a liar when he insinuated that I did this kind of "thing" all the time with men. He couldn't understand why I got up and left. Not funny.

So, come on friends...I need a giggle as I finish up one take home exam from Satans asshole and begin one of two research papers which may be situated in his left and right ball sacks.

I know there are only 4 of you left since I have taken to posting every fortnight and haven't been spotted on your blogs since Labor Day, but tell me your stories....

Now in Sound-o-vision!

Thursday, November 16, 2006

I have reached yet another milestone in "olditude".

When they use songs in commericals that you have a personal attachment to?
And you wander around for days thinking "Who tell hell really sang that song? I can remember all of the lyrics" and then one day, in the shower you realize

Tears for Fears. You corporate fuckers have taken "Mad World" from Tears for Fears and made it into a video game commerical.

I mean, I really like this version too...but hey, don't pillage my youth.

What's next? Fergie ripping off JJ Fads Supersonic, nearly word for word?

Oh, apparently yes.

Random Quote of the Day

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Me: "Yeah, so We'll be having thanksgiving, you know, American Thanksgiving, and everyone else around us will be just going on like normal!"

"It'll be like you're Jewish and celebrating Christmas!"

Me: "I think you mean Hanukkah. Jews celebrate Hanukkah."

"Yeah, whatever. You know what I mean."

Domestic Dawn

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Courtesy of Denise.....

Something you will see after taking several hits of acid, a couple of bowls of good Thai and drinking profusely....

Look hard, cause you ain't gonna see this in real life, folks.

(This was at least 2 years ago, during my graduate cohort. See how friendly and helpful I look?)

Baby Brother

Monday, November 06, 2006

I've written a bit about my brother Donnie. You know, my co-designer of the game "Coma"?

Ok, newbies. I now give you several minutes to piece this bit of high hilarity together. Yep. His name is Donnie. And my name is Dawn. Will it surprise you further to know that our mother and father are Donna and Donald, respectively?

Collect yourselves. Is it any wonder that two children with name origins such as these ended up with the odd and warped humor that produced the game coma? I mean, I view it as a pure defense mechanism. If you are already mocking the sad heathens who inhibit most of society, how can their derision at your matching names affect you?

My brother is 4 years younger than I. I honestly recall the day they brought him home from the hospital. He was a bundle of scrunched up fists and hair. He had a scream that could wake the dead. They set me on a chair and set him on my lap. I have no doubt I was wholly unimpressed.

Donnie was a fairly easy going kid. I do remember when he was of crawling age that he stashed away several marbles in his cheeks and proceeded to choke quite spectacularly in the middle of the living room. As my mother had him upside down and banging the shit out of his back, I remember the blue tinge to his face and the marbles rolling out of his mouth onto the floor. He also tended to taunt death by running into the ocean, sans life preserver, running into traffic and occasionally falling out of the truck when my mom would take left hand turns. Oh and that scary month when he was 2ish and had spinal meningitis.

Donnie slept with his butt up in the air. He did this until he was probably five. You would walk into his room and find him, Legs tucked under his belly, butt up in the air. Because of this, he almost always wore footie pajamas. My mother gave up trying to keep him covered. He had a "wa-wa" - a blue silk edged blanket that he loved. I bet it is still in the attic at my moms house, along with my "banky".

Donnie, it should not surprise any of you, didn't do alot of talking. As the brother of a bossy, verbal older sister, he rarely needed to talk. I talked for him. It wasn't as if he Couldn't talk. he could. But why expend the energy when I was perfectly willing to convey his needs to everyone?

Donnie was motion. He ran, he jumped, he rode his big wheel. He later played lacrosse and I loved to watch him on the field, all six plus feet of him in full motion.

Of course, at a certain point, our lives diverged. Being older, I was mostly annoyed by this person who infringed on my television choices and my proprietary right for all attention as eldest child. I knew that to ask Donnie for a "sip" or a "taste" of something would drive him Nuts. He didn't want your germs on his food. I also knew that if he was on the couch, I could wiggle my toes under him until he got disgusted and left, allowing me to spread out. I would run into his bedroom in the middle of the night because his snoring was so damn loud and poke him until he stopped.

I went to college...he went to college. He moved away from home, I moved back home. I moved away, got married. He moved to Boston and started a career after several years on the ski/summer resort cooking circuit.

We email, and there is no one on this earth who can make me laugh like he does. With simply a few words.

This is the email I got today:

"Look outside, is it getting dark? Do you see a swarm of locusts coming? Perhaps the 4 horseman descending upon you? Is it the apocalypse right around the corner?

No, but I did get engaged this weekend.

Perhaps there is a chance for peace in the Middle East after all."

Can't you tell we sprung from the same source?

I love you Donnie, and wish your betrothed all the love and patience and sense of humor she will need to swim in our gene pool. If needed, she and Terrance can commiserate while you and I throw old hip hop references and other inside jokes around to our hearts content.


Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Hi everyone.

I'm Ok. And more than a little embarrassed about losing my shit back there on Sunday. I even thought about taking the post down so that I could pretend it never happened, but that is not me.

I had a hard session on Monday. One of those you feel the need to nap after - nap for days?

One of the difficulties right now is sorting out what are stress reactions - very high stress, like almost non-paralleled in my life stress - and what could be symptoms of bi-polar.

So like lots of things, we have to wait and see. Watch. Assess. Monitor. Confer.

And we know how well I do with waiting. Not.

What these experiences have driven home for me is my absolute need to have support systems. I do not do well when I am fluttering in the wind. I must be grounded in some way.

I also must be working. I am a mother who does not do well as a stay at home mom. I always suspected as much after my 12 weeks of maternity leave with Emily, but never tested my theory. I can tell you for sure now. Part of my ability to cope with life and the world is tied up in the work I do. While my work does not define me, it does provide a space outside my other roles in which to shine. I am a mother who is better for working.

Oddly, Terrance resisted this notion. I think he likes having me home. I think that for the first time in our marriage, he is comforted by my presence. Of course, he doesn't like when I flip out and accuse him of forcing me to move to Canada so that I would have to stay married to him, and dependant on him for everything, that this was part of his nefarious plot to cut my legs from under me and leave me with no options...

It is in this way that he understands my need - my insistence - for autonomy.

So...slowly...I am unfolding here. Starting to look for positions that will fit my needs ( maybe as a TA?), slowly making friends with a few of the other adult students, starting to chat and have coffee (or real Chai, as the case may be) with a few of the school moms.

However, almost like the pine cones that need a forest fire to ready them to seed, what you saw on Sunday night was my wildfire. Burning me up so I could start to sprout again.

And I say without reservation that I love you all. You are part of my support system and I feel so fortunate to simply know that you are all there.
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