Camel Toe as a fashion statement? Not the point.

Shocking. Not a word I'd use to describe myself. Quirky is a better choice. But to some, I suppose, most of my quirks are just that.

For example, my friends were horrified when I mentioned during a girls get-together that I oftentimes went "commando". The collective looks of disgust on their faces were as if I had just admitted that I like the smell of my own sweaty armpits. (Which I kinda do, not because I like the smell of normal sweat, 'cause I don't. But for some unknown reason my sweat smells sort of pretty and sweet.)

ANYWAY, I tried very earnestly to explain why going sans underwear felt so wonderful, and why they might want to give it a try. No bunching, no adjusting, no riding in any crack, nothing showing while wearing low rise jeans. None of my reasons could sway them. Instead, I was instructed to purchase proper fitting underwear to avoid all those unpleasantries. For the rest of the night, I felt all eyes on my crotch, expecting to see constant camel toe. That is certainly NOT the look I'm going for.

Who sees medals? My eyes go directly to what seem to be
the biggest and most uncomfortable wookie wedgies ever.

In fact, I'd never commando wearing leggings or yoga pants or any style pant that would give me wagon wheels. Not only does it look ridiculous, but a cooch crammed with fabric is far more irritating than the butt floss you experience thonging. It's an easy trade-off, in my humble opinion.

What I couldn't bring myself to admit publicly was that the BEST commando experience is when you are wearing a skirt or dress and nothing else until you get down to your shoes. I'm pretty sure I would have needed to administer smelling salts after THAT confession.

It's fun to feel so free down there in public. A naughty kind of fun. And I swear my snatch is smiling, enjoying the absence of all restrictions, the chance to breathe and feel the soft breeze of fresh air, like a caged animal finally released from captivity. Refreshingly primal and right. And it usually leads to spontaneous hot sex, which is always a plus.

So ladies, I command you! Next steamy summer night, slip on a soft, silky dress and some strappy heels. Keep open the gate to the love tunnel. You may be shocked at how naturally good it feels.

Hungry And Horny - If It Were Only That Simple

You've probably heard this joke about a man's only two emotions. It's a good one. I don't look at it as man-bashing. You have to admit it's a great feeling to eat and feel satisfied, and yea, feeling horny feels hornirific. (Although I'd hate to have an erection. To me, it always looks somewhat painful, all that skin stretching. Plus I can't imagine some appendage of my body sans bone, such as an earlobe or my tongue, becoming rock hard. It just seems awkward and again, painful. But I digress.)

Men are pretty simple creatures. I say that since I am a woman and women don't understand men and vice versa. But I have to say, from an emotional standpoint, I am quite jealous of them. I wish I could bury the worry that clings to me like a persistent migraine. I truly hate being emotional. It fucks me up in so many ways.

I have a girl and a boy. The girl is sensitive, caring to a fault, thoughtful and selfless and sweet. The boy is also very sweet, when he gets his way.

We can't change the way we are, but we can try to change the way we handle things. I think to get what I want, to be happier, I have to be less emotional and more demanding. I have to grow a penis, as icky as that sounds. And I have to stop saying things like "icky".

Wish me luck.