Archive | November, 2010

Day 05

30 Nov

Day 05-A picture of somewhere I have been.

I figure this is pretty innoculous.  I have been a fuckton of places.  I have been to a lot of great, wonderful, amazing, beautiful, depressing, sad, historical places.  Here are some pictures of said places…some are my own, and some are taken from Google images.

I’m sure, dear readers, can figure out what most of them are!

Much love, Esme


Day 04

29 Nov

Day 04-a habit I wish I didn’t have.
I am my own worse critic. There are so many habits I have that I don’t like. I tend to talk a lot, I bite my nails, I chew the inside of my cheek, I stare off into space when I should be paying attention. But I think my worst habit would be the fact that I am often devoid of emotion. I don’t cry at funerals. When I am served information I don’t want to deal with I shut down…I speak in monotone and brush it off. I don’t seem to have the ‘typical’ girl emotions. For the most part, this works very well…especially given what I do for a living. However, it has been pointed out to me that it makes some people very uncomfortable. They don’t know how to deal with it.
I think I am ok with my lack of emotion…for the most part. But there are times when showing sadness would be appropriate, and I just can’t do it. This generally leads to me throwing something later in the day…and that is highly inappropriate. I find it very hard to just say ‘I am sad’.
Love, Esme

Day 03

29 Nov

A recent picture of you and your friends.

…and no picture will be posted.  We are all amazing looking skanks.  All you need to know.

Love much, Esme

Day 02

28 Nov

The meaning behind your blog name.

Well, that is an easy one to explain.  No hookers…it is not a Twilight thing.  So you can brush that one from your fucking mind.  Right.  About.  Now.

It is from a short story by J.D. Salinger called For Esme-With Love and Squalor.  It is a great short story.  I like the Esme character, hence the name of the blog.  That is it…no deeper meaning.  No Twilight fantasies.  Just the main character in a short story.

Much love, Esme


Ohmigod…Safety Tries To Return!

27 Nov

I fucking shit you not.  Just a few minutes ago this exchange took place via text message with Safety.  I saved the texts so I could share them with you all, because it is too delicious not to share!

S:  Too bad you don’t want to do anything

Me:  I was all for meeting you.  YOU didn’t want to do anything.

S:  I did.  I really wanted to.  Just didn’t know where to go.  (FUCKING REALLY???  I still can’t even BELIEVE this is a valid excuse)

Me:  Well, your loss.  If you really wanted to meet up, you would have figured it out.  Or not have shot down everything I threw out at you.  I even changed my FUCKING normal Thursday plans.  And I told you this.  The few people I have told about this are completely fucking dumbfounded.  No one says ‘I can’t think of anything’.  NO ONE.  It’s fucking embarrassing.

And he hasn’t responded.  I don’t expect to hear back, but on the flip side I can’t believe he had the nerve to fucking write me in the first place…and it wasn’t even a fucking APOLOGY.  Christ…where are all of the real men???

Love, Esme

Welcome To My Sexy Party…

27 Nov

I think of this every time I think of Sexy…no shit.  This vision runs through my head.  At least it is a great vision…

So Sexy…where does one begin?  Oh yeah…by yelling at MYSELF for breaking every goddamned rule I have when it comes to fuck buddies.  Every single one.  They are easy rules to follow.  Let’s go over them, shall we?

1.  Never-EVER-spend the night.  Broke that rule night one.

2.  Never-EVER-make first contact.  Let them chase you.  Broke that one first night as well.

3.  Never-EVER-be available all of the time.  Story in itself, but I broke it.

4.  Never-EVER-go out on a date with your fuck buddy.  Or even entertain the idea.  Since we are talking about how I broke the rules, I know you are shaking your head right about now.

5.  Never-EVER-let feelings get involved.  Well…just FUCK.

Sexy and I met up after I basically fucking demanded it.  And, as it has been going, the sex is absolutely phenomenal.  I mean toe-curling, eye-rolling, close to blacking out sex.  Not moaning sex, but primal screaming sex.  To the point where I wasn’t even putting two coherent words together sex.  I think you understand…

Afterwards, when I should be getting up, getting dressed, telling him how I hate to eat and run, and fucking getting the hell out of Dodge, we sat and talked for a couple of hours.  I.  Am.  Such.  A.  Dumb.  Hooker!  Then he got me…he fucking got me…

Esme, you like sports.  I have tickets to (the local sporting team here in town), and can use them anytime I want them.  Would you like to go sometime?

I froze.  I just fucking froze.  Yes, I would love to go.  No, I shouldn’t go because it goes against everything I believe in when it comes to a great sexual relationship.  And for whatever reason, I don’t believe the two can co-exist.  And I am not sure I want a committed relationship.

I must have been silent for a very long time, because Sexy began to back-pedal.  Apologizing for asking me.  Changing the subject all together.  And I let him do it.  I chose not to answer the question, or even acknowledge the fact he just asked me out on a date.  I just don’t think I can do this.  And there is one HUGE reason why…

He has the same first name as my ex-husband…

Day 01

27 Nov

Day 01-A recent picture of you and 15 interesting facts about yourself.

Well stalkers…I am not posting a recent picture of myself.  THAT would defeat the purpose of an anonymous blog, don’t you think?  Look at the picture on the left-hand side, substitute dark hair, and you have me.  I’m pretty fucking hot…just saying.

15 interesting facts?  I have done this a few times, but let me see if I can come up with something new!

1-I am an amazing lightweight when it comes to drinking.  As in three beers, or two glasses of wine, or two shots.  After a very small amount of liquor I just may be dancing on a table, or singing ‘I Touch Myself’ via karaoke.  Yes…I am that girl.

2-I don’t have an internal filter.  I think something, and it comes out of my mouth.  And very rarely is that a good thing.

3-I am honestly getting to a point where I am getting fucking sick of dating.  As in I don’t want to do it anymore.  Is a great date too much to ask for?

4-When someone asks me what my biggest regret is, I tell them I wish I would have been a whore in college.

5-I am a very competitive person…so much so that most of my friends won’t even play board games with me anymore.  I’m not a sore loser by any means, but I sure in the hell like to win.  And I am a fucking trivia QUEEN.

6-Very few people know this, but I played basketball my first semester of college.  And when I transferred schools, I let it go.  And I don’t even know why.

7-I didn’t start to embrace my femininity until last year…and that is really hard to do when you work at a firehouse!

8-As I get older I have realized I have so many great girlfriends, most of which I consider sisters.  And a great girlfriend beats a man any day of the week.

9-I love stupid comedies.  LOVE them.  I will laugh until I have tears running down my cheeks.

10-I have so many famous crushes…some of my favorites?  Mark Wahlberg, Jason Statham, and Brian Urlacher.  I have girl crushes as well…but that is a whole ‘nother post.

11-I think it is super hard to find 15 interesting things about me.

12-I have a really hard time with the holidays ever since my grandma passed away.  It has also been hard since the divorce.  I HATE my ex-husband, but no one likes to be alone on the holidays.  How-ev-er…I will not date a douchebag just to not be alone.  So I guess it doesn’t bother me that much!

13-I want pink hair.  Bright pink hair.  I have no idea why, but I do.

14-I want more tattoos.  The last one I got gave me the tattoo bug.  I want more BAD.  I know what I want, I have an idea of where I want them.  I could give a flying fuck if people don’t like tattooed women.  It’s all about me anyways.

15-I am finally starting to realize that there is something about me that attracts douchebags.  That I must push the great guys away.  I haven’t figured out what it is.  Either that or what they say is true…The good ones are taken…or gay.  I don’t mind gay.  At least my house will be impeccably decorated and we would look fabulous dah-lin!

Much love hookers, Esme