John Weiland wrote:
If the cell phone is half-pocketed bouncing playfully on gyrations of your fixation's derriere (lyric break: "world moves on a woman's hips..." --Talking Heads), then it's half possible of falling out....all of those 'secrets' within potentially falling to the dangers of unknown hands and eyes. Now you *might* be the one to see it happen--and this would immediately lead to a simultaneous 'damsel rescue' moment as well as a necessary opportunity to engage with the (likely and profusely) thankful maiden. So perhaps a subconscious "what if..." is at play here along with the more obvious fascinations....?
(Hmmmmm....I'm wondering now if my plum jam fermented on the stove overnight and has affected my evening musings.... :-) )
Stacy Witscher wrote:I really like men that are humble, which is not a trait that they are often taught. I had a co-worker in a restaurant that had previously been an executive chef but came to work as a line cook. He was looking to get away from all the stress. He didn't like it when people found out his background. He just wanted to be one of the cooks. He was so unlike other chefs, he was kind and humble and beautiful.
Michaell White wrote: I'm afraid of dying, and so I'm looking for a woman who will not kill me
Gary Hoff wrote:Lol, nope. I'm not too big a fan of chislic. I was trying to find a community of like minded individuals but people here act like you're crazy for saying we should be more sustainable or plant anything besides grass, hostas and daylilies. It's a big reason why I've been considering leaving the state for somewhere in the PNW as I don't even have land to work into a food forest, let alone the possibility of employment in something sustainable.
Aurora House wrote:Thank you Elizabeth. I don't deserve this I know that. I deserve far better than this I'm just trying to hold on till my son's birthday then even with no job or savings I'll try to find somewhere and some how to live.
As far as the physical he's never hit me or our son, just walls, doors, and one very unlucky tray of muffins that I couldn't get out of the oven because I was nursing our son. I almost think it's on purpose words don't show bruises.
He's stated that he used to feel Dread when on his homeward commute, and that he doesn't like how I make him behave. So even he knows somewhere deep down things are toxic. And when that deep knowledge makes him realize he's out of line he'll come back and apologize followed by him repeating every point of his rant and working himself back into a froth. I'd rather he didn't apologize as that is apparently justification and permission to start everything All over again.