Okay. New followers will likely think I’m a bit odd, but that’s okay. They haven’t read A Body of True Confessions, My Aching Loins, or Prude to Sexy, Yet. So they are likely thinking all types of thoughts. Truth is, I’ve really broken out of my shell.
Photos removed since original post. See links above for more information. 🙂
I don’t even recognize me! Â I’m wearing my after glow from having kayaked yesterday for the first time, my Maui tan from May, and the confidence I had when I was a kid. Yay, me!
Prude to Sexy Check Off List:
Check…..Guitar purchased
Check…..First Kayak experience (1.5 hours)
Check….Kayak paddle purchased
Check….Closer and closer to buying a bikini
Oh, and I got a really cute pedicure today. See? This was not an easy shot to take. Trust me!
When I was still a youngster, in my early twenties, my mother took me to see her psychic. I was told that I would first have two children, much like twins, and everyone would think they were twins at first—this happened. I was told that I would live to be 86 and that at the half-point (age 43) my life would shift and be happier—happening (at least the age 43 happy part). I was also told that I was a French nun in my past life and brought a lot of that mindset to this lifetime, and carried around a bunch of Catholic guilt and felt I was always sinning with my very thoughts! SO NOT HAPPENING anymore….
I’ve been a prude for the first half of my life. For the second half, I’m going to be sexy. Of course last year at this time, I was going to be a Buddhist monk, and was seriously considering growing my hair out all grey, never ever wearing makeup again, and going braless. So, really, we don’t know what to expect from me. As you can tell by looking over my last two posts, where I went from exceedingly on top of all the universes, to basically, and literally, cry me a river.
But, despite my track record, I’d thought I’d give this sexy thing a shot, and at least make a list, since I love lists anyhow. And thusly, I’ve included my ten goals for the next eight months, that leads us into February 2013, and day 366 (leap year, remember).
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Prude to SEXY!
My IT List for Sexy
The High SEXY boots
1. High Boots. A must. With a short skirt and leggings, and a powerful cat walk.
A small sexy ankle tattoo. Perhaps a tiny sun or a tiger symbol.
2. Must have a small, sexy ankle tattoo. A permanent stamp that says the prude is gone and to banish the nun in me.
4. Classic Guitar and Lessons. Preferably taught by a dark, gorgeous hunk of burning love.
5. Bikini on the beach. Yes, bikini.
Maui 2012
6. Lots and lots of submerging in water. River walking. Hit the beach. Swim in the pool. Soak in hot tub. Go to hot springs. Bubble baths.
kayakingtours.com
7. Kayaking tour and buying a kayak and wetsuit.
wikipedia.org
8. Belly dancing in this dress. Ooh la la!
Where I walk in Washington State
9. Nature
Trees and more trees. And hugging trees. Hiking. State parks. Forests. Resting on the grass by the lake. Sitting on the bench and watching the birds. Breathing in the air. Breathing.
kundalinishaktidance.com/
10. Kundalini Yoga
Got to keep the second chakra fed, or I’ll never pose for that photo of me at the water’s edge, posing sexy in a bikini, donning a belly pierce and one high boot, with the other foot bare, as to show of my ankle tattoo, all while strumming a guitar in a kayak and mouthing “I love you.”
Woke up to this today. Â This music is SEXY, too.Â
No makeup. Hair needs to be brushed. Oh, crap, I haven't even brushed my teeth yet. This is like camping all over again! Thank you Grandma for my clear skin. Thank you Dad for my Italian nose. Thank you hands for pulling back all my wrinkles! If you click on this photo, you will see a messy study. A sign of genius. I can't even stop rambling about a photo. May the Gods help me! Everyday Aspergers -- Samantha
“Life is a pair of skinny jeans and you are a big fat ass. That’s it. It’s uncomfortable being a human being.” ~ Tom Papa (comedian)
I wanted the title to be:Â Fitting In. You are Weird and a Big Fat Ass, but I thought people might take it the wrong way.
The more I’m sharing about myself, my quirks, my outlooks, my geek posse, my fears, my memories, my embarrassing moments, even my empathic experiences, I’m realizing I am not an alien after all! In fact, I’m thinking some of you might be aliens.
A dimmer switch for Sir Brain would be nice. Sometimes herbs and exhaustion help to dim the thoughts. Wine helps, and the ingredients in certain brownies that I will never try again. One word: Paranoia. I actually visited all the layers of hell—anyone smiling knows what I mean. I could digress on this subject and make you laugh hysterically. Major chocolate craving coming on…
Anyhows…(I meant to put an S there for effect. But now that I’ve explained this the effect is gone. But I didn’t want anyone to think I couldn’t spell anyhow and pass judgment. Because I live in constant fear of people finding flaws and errors in my ways and passing judgment.)
Anyhow…It’s sure nice to know I’m not alone. Sure nice to know everyone is messed up (I mean that in a good way). Nice to know, too, that most of you have all the same thoughts and weirdness I do, but you have the ability to keep most clammed up and shut away inside. Which, I guess, has its drawbacks, too. At least I’ll never explode because I held too much back. I’m not a slow ticking time bomb (despite what my mother-in-law once wrote about me).
I am like a garden hose set on slow drip—the perfect companion to a thirsty dog or playful child in the heat of the summer days.
Writing this off the top of my head. Let’s see what comes out. Drip, drip, drip…
We are All Weird
We are all weird
We are all trying to fit in
We aren’t happy all the time
We’ll never be happy all the time
That’s an illusion
We worry
We fear
We dream, sometimes big
We wish and wish and wish
We copy and imitate in hopes of being accepted
We try to figure others out
Try even harder to figure our own self out
We cry at sad movies
We laugh at dumb jokes
We light up a room
And can bring about feelings of gloom
We are powerful, magical, mysterious
And filled with a gentle charm
Our esteem is worthy
Even though we may not know
Our life has purpose
Even as we search
We are so remarkably fantastically beautiful
A reflection of beauty
One to the other
I’m so happy to know you
Each and everyone
So happy to stand in your light
Breathe in your energy
Breathe out your kindness
There is no better blessing
Than knowing you are not alone
That there is always a hand, a smile, a knowing wink
I giggle at our quirks
I celebrate our uniqueness
But I dwell and live fullest in our connection
The connection we share in seeing one in the other
Okay. This is a little beyond PG-rated, but as you’re my friend, and all, I just have to say, if you search online videos for “fitting in” there seems to be a lot of bike fitting, horse saddle fitting, golf club fitting, clothing fitting, fake male “private parts” fitting. Oops. I hope I didn’t just steer someone in the wrong direction! Don’t want you to obsess about the fit of your saddle.
Serious and Uplifting. He makes a lot of good videos.
I’ve named my new laptop Samantha Craft II. It’s not narcissistic, if that’s what you think, because Samantha Craft is my blogging name. Which only makes me pseudo-narcissistic.
I’m reporting to you from the comfort of my living room couch. I’ve removed myself from the dungeon of our study—a box-of-a-room with no windows, set in the center of our daylight basement. Daylight is not literal. I live in Washington State.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to have the office space, and a room that is entirely dedicated to computers, books, and piles of mundane paperwork. But with the surfacing of my vampire-like traits, (since moving here), my windowless office exaggerates my radically pale complexion and morbid (but intriguing) thoughts of luxury coffins.
I will be visiting my huge iMac computer (that I adore) soon. But for now, I write in blissful comfort. Truth be told, I do, in a slight way, feel like I’m cheating on my virtual iMac boyfriend. Though, I think I’d like to make my laptop a girl, only because we need more female energy in this house; and my laptop could feasibly be my new “Get up and go Gal,” since my best friend, who lived the next door over, moved to Connecticut!
I’m still suffering from abandonment issues. Sigh.
I am officially a lounge lizard. My tongue feels longer. I thought of posting a photo of my tongue, because it is substantially long and I can almost touch the tip of my nose. But who knows what type of weirdos are out there, what they might conclude. I don’t want anyone thinking I have a big, long nose!
(When I first wrote the sentence above, I accidentally substituted knows for nose. I crack myself up to no end.)
I sense Crazy Frog popping in with his quirkiness—something about wanting to make the laptop an actual female lizard and his potential mate for life.
I do sense this laptop has feminine energy. Although, I’m noticing the word feminine bothers me. Mainly because I’ve been indoctrinated with all of those feminine napkin commercials and advertisements since birth! Anyone else harbor word-issues as a result of massive advertisement campaigns?
I’ve discovered I’m not so strange after all! According to Live Science in cooperation with Scientific America, people are prone to assign a gender to inanimate objects and people see odd numbers as male and even numbers as female. Take that! You mental health professional of the past who raised a brow at the fact that number three IS a male! Seems I’m not such an odd duck after all. Or rather we are all odd ducks together.
By the way, if you Google feminine napkins, a lot of information about Cooties shows up!
This YouTube has an inappropriate word at the end. I just pretended I was at a comedy show.
My feelings aren’t so far off the mainstream when the whole feminine napkin icky-feeling-word is concerned.  In a research study, mentioned in Psychology Today, when a package of cookies in a shopping cart was touching a box of feminine napkins, participants viewed the shopping cart significantly less desirable, when compared to the other participants who had viewed the cart where the two packages were not touching.
More on Feminine:
While learning French in high school, and again in college, I was fascinated that the English language does not use gender nouns; and more so in awe that other languages do have gender nouns. By the way, I can only speak ten French words now and translate the one English sentence “I only eat the vegetables” into French.
In English all nouns are neutral and the gender is shown through the form of the word. However, in a quick review of some gender-based nouns, I’m realizing that oftentimes the female counter part is not used at all or implies a derogatory statement.
Take these for example:
actor – actress          (Actor is used often for both.)
bachelor – spinster   (Spinster…such a nice word.)
billy – nanny            (Have you ever hired a billy?)
bull – cow               (We eat the cow.)
dog – bitch              (No explanation needed.)
leopard – leopardess (Is that the sexy term for leopard?)
peacock – peahen     (I’ve been calling all those females peacocks!)
Le champion des dames (detail), 1451. Martin Le France (1410-1461), Public domain. From: W. Schild: Die Maleficia der Hexenleut, 1997.
(Is that a cool name or what? Oh! That’s my iMac’s name! Yes, it is. Starting now.)
According to Maxson J. McDowell, trolls and witches represent repressed or split-off feminine.
That’s encouraging. (Sarcasm). Does that mean when I lose aspects of my feminine self I become a witch or troll? If that is the case, then I am firmly sticking with Princess Vampirette Abyss. Watch out ladies. Keep painting those fingernails, dying that hair, buying those push up bras, plucking those brows, shaving those pits—don’t turn into a troll.
My idea of feminine? On the Internet I found images of big busts, hour-glass figures, Marilyn Monroe, flesh, flowers, pale-skin, big lips…
Personally I like the YouTube I found of feminine burping collection. Although now, I swear my coffin-study, that I’ve now returned to, smells like pickles and beer.
Everyday Asperger's 
