Retired bull rider Jason Waters is about as tightly wound and uncomfortable as a cowboy can be. He fits every surface assumption about a rodeo athlete more accustomed to thousand pound pissed off animals than people: lean, quiet, calm, conservative, and unfailingly polite. Unfortunately for Jason (and luckily for us), a promise to a fellow rodeo buddy puts Jason in the position of posing naked for a hot-rodeo-boys calendar: a calendar Simone Levine is shooting. Simone's unique combination of artistic mischief and harmlessness cuts through the Jason's polite shield, and he unexpectedly reveals a secret he's carried for years. And so they begin with a nude photo shoot and a naked confession.
One of my favorite things about Tiffany Reisz's work is the way she takes a familiar romance novel premise and twists it down excellently unexpected paths. Picture Perfect Cowboy occurs in the Original Sinners universe, which generally guarantees a certain level of character depth (oh yes, that pun is intended) as well as varying levels of smut. This story doesn't disappoint, as it turns out Jason is terrified his own predilections make him a terrible and depraved man. Simone, on the other hand, is an occasional professional at King's NY club and a personal friend of Mistress Nora. Who better to help Jason relax and be who he is, by proving that a little depravity doesn't make him a bad guy?
Again, the romance theme of the "good woman is all a rake needs to be reformed" is revised to a more modern and entertainingly smutty adventure. Reisz doesn't skimp on the varying erotic scenes. True to form, some are pure sexiness while some skate the edge of downright uncomfortable, and there's really no predicting which scenes will have either effect on any reader. If you aren't an expert on spanking after this, you weren't paying attention.
What's really interesting in this story is Jason's evolution, both in emotional growth and technical skill. I love that Reisz always delves into the how/why of a character's kinks, and though some of the motivating factors can be judged as awful (through no fault of Jason's own), the end result is an acceptance without judgment of his needs as an adult. Simone (with a little help from Nora and Soren) actively encourages Jason to accept himself and navigate the twisty ethical and emotional effects of desires he's been ashamed of as morally terrible due to his upbringing.
In addition to his internal struggle, relationship conflicts arise as outside parties are introduced to Jason and Simone's private world, and the vast lifestyle differences between a Kentucky horse rancher and a New York professional kinkster interfere. Picture Perfect Cowboy is a lot of relationship packed into a pretty short package. Tiffany Reisz covers both traditional romance novel issues as well as BDSM kink with the same excellent style in the other Sinners books.
My only complaint is the traditional market length of this story necessarily leaves little room for more, and I wanted more. The best possible danger of writing is convincing readers the characters are real people you want to hang out with: this is an absolute success. I hope this becomes a bit of a series since at least one other character has some clear Sinner potential, because I thoroughly enjoyed Simone and Jason's love story. Also, I'm not going to lie, I'd love to find out how Jason and Griffin get along.
Picture Perfect Cowboy by Tiffany Reisz is available on November 5th in hardcover and ebook from 8th Circle Press.
Picture Perfect Cowboy on Amazon
Showing posts with label Romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romance. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 02, 2018
Tuesday, February 09, 2016
"Duran Duran DOES NOT Sing The Song Of My People" (This post is Not Safe For Anyone*)
I seriously considered leaving this entire post blank**, because in this case the title really does say it all. Honestly, I laughed so hard at that one (which was dropped during what I thought was a totally normal conversation) I wheezed and cried a little.
Also? Since I generally anonymize my friends/family on this blog unless they say otherwise, you, sir, MIGHT need to be Duran Duran (DD?) here until I come up with something worse. If there is anything worse.
Then I remembered other ridiculous things said/heard lately, and realized it's been a while since I put into the interwebverse the oddities I get myself into.***
1) A friend (not DD...I'll need a code for him) sent me a picture of a statue of Jesus with the following caption: "Medusa 1, Jesus 0" I approve.
2) An ongoing discussion with DD about whether Aliens might've turned out differently had Newt been a teenage boy with a BDSM fetish. The logistics alone of breaking an alien to a collar is astounding, really, particularly since the only defense (as per the AVP movies) against corrosive alien blood is alien skin.
Yeah. THINK ABOUT THAT for a while. Facehugger condoms. A scarred up young man meeting the Marines and Ripley with a couple aliens on leashes.
Recently in one of my news feeds about writing I found a couple of magazines looking for horror/monster porn...seems apropos. (No, I'm not writing it. The discussion is enough).
And finally, 3) While in a discussion with fellow degenerates (no codes yet: I'm working on it) about dietary choices that quickly devolved into something far worse, the question came up whether vegans are allowed to swallow during oral sex, or if that's a violation of the code.
Stop chortling, asshole, it's a real question!
I am extremely lucky to have a lovely lady in Oly (guess what YOUR new code name is?) who did NOT call me an asshole for asking and to my eternal gratitude and delight answered, "No, it's totally ok since people are consenting adults. But I bet some use that as an excuse not to."
I relayed the message, and immediately we three degenerates wondered about the sort of people who WOULD use veganism as an excuse to cop out of oral sex. And we came up with an alternative for those people to use instead: SPOY.
Vegan Soy Untextured Gluten Free Ejaculate Substitute
Comes in a tube...
*I am not sorry for anything in this post. Except maybe facehugger condoms.
**Yes, the labels I assigned are totally on purpose. Maybe I should be a little sorry for the people who search anything like alien porn and get this post.
Nope.
***No, I don't know what's wrong with me or my friends, but no one can say I don't have interesting conversations with people, and that's something.
PS: Google's spellcheck doesn't recognize the word "veganism" as real. For once, I can't help but agree. Also dear Google, I suppose THIS post lives up to your assumption that I am way too rude for you.
Also? Since I generally anonymize my friends/family on this blog unless they say otherwise, you, sir, MIGHT need to be Duran Duran (DD?) here until I come up with something worse. If there is anything worse.
Then I remembered other ridiculous things said/heard lately, and realized it's been a while since I put into the interwebverse the oddities I get myself into.***
1) A friend (not DD...I'll need a code for him) sent me a picture of a statue of Jesus with the following caption: "Medusa 1, Jesus 0" I approve.
2) An ongoing discussion with DD about whether Aliens might've turned out differently had Newt been a teenage boy with a BDSM fetish. The logistics alone of breaking an alien to a collar is astounding, really, particularly since the only defense (as per the AVP movies) against corrosive alien blood is alien skin.
Yeah. THINK ABOUT THAT for a while. Facehugger condoms. A scarred up young man meeting the Marines and Ripley with a couple aliens on leashes.
Recently in one of my news feeds about writing I found a couple of magazines looking for horror/monster porn...seems apropos. (No, I'm not writing it. The discussion is enough).
And finally, 3) While in a discussion with fellow degenerates (no codes yet: I'm working on it) about dietary choices that quickly devolved into something far worse, the question came up whether vegans are allowed to swallow during oral sex, or if that's a violation of the code.
Stop chortling, asshole, it's a real question!
I am extremely lucky to have a lovely lady in Oly (guess what YOUR new code name is?) who did NOT call me an asshole for asking and to my eternal gratitude and delight answered, "No, it's totally ok since people are consenting adults. But I bet some use that as an excuse not to."
I relayed the message, and immediately we three degenerates wondered about the sort of people who WOULD use veganism as an excuse to cop out of oral sex. And we came up with an alternative for those people to use instead: SPOY.
Vegan Soy Untextured Gluten Free Ejaculate Substitute
Comes in a tube...
*I am not sorry for anything in this post. Except maybe facehugger condoms.
**Yes, the labels I assigned are totally on purpose. Maybe I should be a little sorry for the people who search anything like alien porn and get this post.
Nope.
***No, I don't know what's wrong with me or my friends, but no one can say I don't have interesting conversations with people, and that's something.
PS: Google's spellcheck doesn't recognize the word "veganism" as real. For once, I can't help but agree. Also dear Google, I suppose THIS post lives up to your assumption that I am way too rude for you.
Monday, June 09, 2014
Mythic Monday: Selkie
"A bird may love a fish, but where would they live?" -Ever After, A Cinderella Story
In the seas surrounding the Scotland and Ireland, pretty faced seals with large, almost human eyes peek out from the water, curiously watching fishermen work. They'd follow the boats, sometimes even leading fishermen to the best places for a good catch, if you believe stories in the pub after a round or two.
And if a fisherman was lucky enough, he'd meet a beautiful, quiet girl on the shore some evening. A girl with almost human eyes and dark hair, walking alone on the beach. She'd be easy to love, kind and generous, understanding of his love of the sea and his need to be away from home for long stretches of time. He'd, of course, want to marry her.
And should he find the skin she hid when she changed to her human form, he could hold her hostage as his wife...for as long as he can keep it from her. But if ever she finds her true skin, she'll change back to a seal and be lost to him forever. For as happy as she may be with her husband and children, a part of her will always long for the freedom of the open ocean and her true form.
Rather...controlling, no? Ah, but the control goes both ways. Lonely women can attract a sexy Selkie man (Selkies are said to be quite gorgeous, male and female) to their beds and homes by giving seven tears to the sea. Again, if they can somehow hide his sealskin, he'll stay. But ultimately, he belongs to the sea, and eventually he'll return without looking back.
Selkies, the seal people off the coast of Ireland and Scotland, have a reputation for being excellent lovers, excellent spouses, and excellent parents. There's even some versions of the stories that say if you're lucky enough to wed a Selkie you'll never ever go hungry, because fish will always find a way into your nets. And that even when (inevitably) the Selkie finds his or her skin, they'll watch over their human children from beyond the shores, interacting with them in the water but staying away from their former spouses forever. In fact, often once the skin is returned the Selkie can't turn into a human ever again. Rather telling, really: the very core of the relationship is based on coercion, so there is no returning once freedom has been found.
Selkies are my personal favorite of all the water spirits. I suppose that has to do with my love for the sea, but also because their myths fall into one of the primary Celtic tragic themes: doomed love between humans and the Fae. Sometimes, a soul just needs a bittersweet story, after all, and nobody does bittersweet like the Celts. The overriding theme across every variation of Selkie tales is that you can't change your nature for love, by choice or coercion, no matter how hard you try or how long you wait. Eventually, your true nature will set you free, but that freedom comes with sadness.
Loreena McKennitt's song "The Old Ways" (The Visit) always reminds me of the Selkie myths: of truly mismatched and tragic lovers who can't help but part, at least for a time. (FYI: the song isn't specifically about a Selkie: it's the sea theme that gets me there.)
...
And then I knew/
That you had to go/
Your world was not mine/
Your eyes told me so
...
The pounding sea/
is calling me home/
home to you
I've always wondered, what if the man or woman who hid the Selkie's skin accepted their lover's nature and respected his/her ability to choose? What if the Selkie remained free to come and go, and the spouse chose to make the most of their time together while he or she had it? Do they truly only get one shot at playing a human in their magical lives, or is it the fundamentally flawed relationship that causes them to give up humanity forever once they get their seal self back?
In the seas surrounding the Scotland and Ireland, pretty faced seals with large, almost human eyes peek out from the water, curiously watching fishermen work. They'd follow the boats, sometimes even leading fishermen to the best places for a good catch, if you believe stories in the pub after a round or two.
And if a fisherman was lucky enough, he'd meet a beautiful, quiet girl on the shore some evening. A girl with almost human eyes and dark hair, walking alone on the beach. She'd be easy to love, kind and generous, understanding of his love of the sea and his need to be away from home for long stretches of time. He'd, of course, want to marry her.
And should he find the skin she hid when she changed to her human form, he could hold her hostage as his wife...for as long as he can keep it from her. But if ever she finds her true skin, she'll change back to a seal and be lost to him forever. For as happy as she may be with her husband and children, a part of her will always long for the freedom of the open ocean and her true form.
Rather...controlling, no? Ah, but the control goes both ways. Lonely women can attract a sexy Selkie man (Selkies are said to be quite gorgeous, male and female) to their beds and homes by giving seven tears to the sea. Again, if they can somehow hide his sealskin, he'll stay. But ultimately, he belongs to the sea, and eventually he'll return without looking back.
Selkies, the seal people off the coast of Ireland and Scotland, have a reputation for being excellent lovers, excellent spouses, and excellent parents. There's even some versions of the stories that say if you're lucky enough to wed a Selkie you'll never ever go hungry, because fish will always find a way into your nets. And that even when (inevitably) the Selkie finds his or her skin, they'll watch over their human children from beyond the shores, interacting with them in the water but staying away from their former spouses forever. In fact, often once the skin is returned the Selkie can't turn into a human ever again. Rather telling, really: the very core of the relationship is based on coercion, so there is no returning once freedom has been found.
Selkies are my personal favorite of all the water spirits. I suppose that has to do with my love for the sea, but also because their myths fall into one of the primary Celtic tragic themes: doomed love between humans and the Fae. Sometimes, a soul just needs a bittersweet story, after all, and nobody does bittersweet like the Celts. The overriding theme across every variation of Selkie tales is that you can't change your nature for love, by choice or coercion, no matter how hard you try or how long you wait. Eventually, your true nature will set you free, but that freedom comes with sadness.
Loreena McKennitt's song "The Old Ways" (The Visit) always reminds me of the Selkie myths: of truly mismatched and tragic lovers who can't help but part, at least for a time. (FYI: the song isn't specifically about a Selkie: it's the sea theme that gets me there.)
...
And then I knew/
That you had to go/
Your world was not mine/
Your eyes told me so
...
The pounding sea/
is calling me home/
home to you
I've always wondered, what if the man or woman who hid the Selkie's skin accepted their lover's nature and respected his/her ability to choose? What if the Selkie remained free to come and go, and the spouse chose to make the most of their time together while he or she had it? Do they truly only get one shot at playing a human in their magical lives, or is it the fundamentally flawed relationship that causes them to give up humanity forever once they get their seal self back?
Monday, November 04, 2013
And So, I Embrace Google's Opinion Me
Remember how everyone tells me their sex and relationship issues? Did you know my husband is moving to Texas for 11 months next year for school (I am not, for financial and practical reasons...meaning, I'd like to keep my job until I get to the point they'll let me work from home full time, I can't afford to commute between MN and TX weekly, and we'll likely move when he's done with school anyway)? Did you know back in the day (ie 2005 and earlier) I sold "Romance products" through one of those in-home party gigs?
Are you sensing a theme?
Back to NaNoWriMo. Because I'm clearly attempting to kill myself with all the THINGS to do.
PS: I sort of find my labeling scheme amusing today.
This all goes together, I swear.
I've decided to re-start my sex toy romance business. I need something to keep me occupied while he's in school...and you know, a way to help PAY for school. Plus, I have no shame and thoroughly encourage people to have healthy fun sex lives. I think it's important to well-being in a long-term relationship.
I won't advertise here after this post, although I may share entertaining stories here and there. After all, I have a reputation to uphold with Google Ads (because I'm lewd). But if you're interested, you can find the business on Facebook at www.facebook.com/shadowayn
My Party Gals website (for products, booking online parties, and likely some immature giggles): www.partygals.biz/shadowayn or www.tabooessentials.com/shadowayn
And finally, to coincide with the toy business I decided to pair it with an advice column: http://shadowaynlove.blogspot.com. I'd love some guest-posts there, my bloggy friends!
Are you sensing a theme?
Back to NaNoWriMo. Because I'm clearly attempting to kill myself with all the THINGS to do.
PS: I sort of find my labeling scheme amusing today.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
I'm Too Lewd for Google...Mwahahahaha
I was toying with the idea of putting a couple of ads on my blog, and so I looked into the Google AdSense stuff (since it's affiliated with Blogger and so is likely the easiest foray into the great unknown).
Alas, it's not meant to be.
According to the email I got from the AdSense bot (which apparently scanned my blog for all things inappropriate), I'm not eligible for any ads because (GASP) I have "adult content" peppered throughout my pages.
I am utterly amused and tickled about my status as THAT inappropriate...particularly since I've also been considering adding a weekly "relationship enhancers" post to my normal random commentary. Partly to be less random on at least ONE day of the week, partly because I've recently resumed my role as sex therapist to friends (and acquaintences, and people I've never met who sit down with me at the grocery store deli over lunch), partly because another website keeps trying to get me to be a "relationship expert" in their stable of bloggers. Unfortunately, that site requires I link to my Facebook page...which is just never going to happen.
Anyway, I'd say Google AdSense just validated that option.
Excuse me while I snicker at my desk some more at the prudish company with "ogle" embedded in its name...
Could it be my labeling choices?
Perhaps it's my Cosmic Guide for Harlots?
Husband says it's true: I'm lewd and inappropriate for children.
I think that means I win.
Alas, it's not meant to be.
According to the email I got from the AdSense bot (which apparently scanned my blog for all things inappropriate), I'm not eligible for any ads because (GASP) I have "adult content" peppered throughout my pages.
I am utterly amused and tickled about my status as THAT inappropriate...particularly since I've also been considering adding a weekly "relationship enhancers" post to my normal random commentary. Partly to be less random on at least ONE day of the week, partly because I've recently resumed my role as sex therapist to friends (and acquaintences, and people I've never met who sit down with me at the grocery store deli over lunch), partly because another website keeps trying to get me to be a "relationship expert" in their stable of bloggers. Unfortunately, that site requires I link to my Facebook page...which is just never going to happen.
Anyway, I'd say Google AdSense just validated that option.
Excuse me while I snicker at my desk some more at the prudish company with "ogle" embedded in its name...
Could it be my labeling choices?
Perhaps it's my Cosmic Guide for Harlots?
Husband says it's true: I'm lewd and inappropriate for children.
I think that means I win.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
UPDATED: Romantic Lazypantsness: It's a technical term.
So I'm quite sick of the stupid "if you love her, buy her THESE diamonds" holiday commercials, and unfortunately they'll just keep getting MORE annoying until 1) the apocalypse on 12/21 kills the power or 2) Valentine's Day is blessedly behind us. So, let's discuss REAL romance, shall we? Because in my world every kiss does NOT begin with Kay (ok, technically the letter K does begin the word Kiss, but that's like spelling doughnut "donut" for marketing purposes, which irks me anyway), and fuck you De Beers.
A particularly cynical friend of mine thinks romance in concept is deception designed to get a partner into bed/relationship/marriage and is ultimately a big fucking lie because it's unsustainable.I find that attitude...depressing as hell, and so I checked with other friends (male and female, touchy-feely and not) about romance in relationships and as a seduction tool.
Flowers: Husband, CF, and a few other males I asked are unanimously against buying/picking/giving flowers to a woman. And I'm sorry boys, but your reasons are FUCKING STUPID. Worded in various ways, the basic cop-out is "why would I want to buy you/her/anyone flowers as a token of my affection when flowers die? Isn't that a temporary and not-nice symbol?"
Nice try, but fail. Flowers are pretty, they smell nice, they brighten a room/day/life for a time, and know what? They MAKE RECIPIENTS SMILE. Their temporary nature, if you must be philosophical about it, is a reminder not to take things for granted because everything is temporary.
The fact is, not giving your partner flowers because YOU don't like them is a selfish reason. If SHE doesn't like flowers you're in the clear. If flowers make her day it's romantic to give them: it shows you're thinking about HER feelings.
Candlelight: CF doesn't like candlelight because he thinks it's part of an ulterior-motive: creating a seduction. Well...um...FUCKING DUH. I'm sorry, when did being seduced become a bad thing?
Soft lighting is the equivelent of make-up, lingerie, high heels, a dress, shaving, suit-and-tie, perfume/cologne or any other "dressing up" mask people wear to make themselves look appealing to their partner. Of COURSE you want your partner to find you sexy, and low lights are an easy way to 1) set a mood of quiet attentiveness and 2) instantly airbrush some of the flaws about which a person may be self conscious (stretch marks come to mind: they're fucking ANNOYINGLY obvious in harsh light). Do you notice the flaws? Maybe not, and finding your partner attractive with all his/her flaws is part of what makes you awesome. But it's not about whether YOU notice them: it's about whether HE/SHE feels self-conscious about them. Is a partner who feels attractive not a better date than one who is distracted by self-doubt? Yeah. Thought so.
Compliments/Cards/Mushy Talk: Seriously, this isn't romance, people. This is part of loving someone. If you aren't randomly complementing your partner after X years, why the fuck NOT? If you like something about him/her, TELL THEM. Your partner isn't a mind reader, and everyone likes to be told in no uncertain terms that they're appreciated, loved, liked, admired, that their boobs look awesome that day.
Jewelry: I admit I'm not a very girly girl when it comes to traditional presents. It irks me that jewelry commericals insist so strongly that men ONLY love their women if they buy fancy-pants cold stones. However, if that's what gets you all mushy and gooey about your partner I say go for it.
It's not that difficult: choose the gifts that your PARTNER will love. For example, for our anniversary this year I got my husband a pistol. Because he's an avid gun enthusiast and his plans of saving for it were dashed in the accident that stole a few months of his time. It meant something to him, even though I don't necessarily find a gun a romantic gift. *shrug* If you want to romance ME with gifts, buy me books. Get me a MN Wild jersey (my most EXCELLENT anniversary gift from Husband last year) or tickets. Clean my house so I can write. Make me dinner. BUY ME FUCKING FLOWERS*. Ha.
Effort, people. EFFORT: If "Romance" is effort put in to woo your partner and left at the wayside after a few years/marriage/kids/etc then maybe it was a deception. In that case, I guess I can agree with CF's assessment, but it makes me sad. But mostly I think it's laziness, not intentional jackassery that locks romance in a closet.
I've been guilty of romantic lazypantsness. It sucks: resentment and unappreciated invisibility are sneaky bastards who weasel their way between people in relationship: they must be executed. No matter how long a couple has been together, a little effort to set a scene, to purposefully seduce, to ROMANCE their partner is always an appreciated and cherished gesture. Ultimately, romance is never a waste if it makes you both feel appreciated, wanted, and valued, right? The trappings are utterly subjective, but they're still an important part of a loving and long-term relationship.
*in the interest of not making my husband look like a dick, he HAS given flowers on multiple occasions after we had that exact discussion about the worth of floral gifts early on in our relationship. Win.
UPDATE: I've been told Husband DID buy flowers before the conversation. However, I maintain we did HAVE that conversation at some point. Since I don't recall whether it was before or post-flowers, I concede the point.
Enough mush. On to the most important point of this post:
Let's discuss the total bowl of awesome it would be to give me Gerard Butler (preferably naked but not required) for any occasion, shall we?
 |
| Hot man, Scottish accent, AND coffee? Yes. |
A particularly cynical friend of mine thinks romance in concept is deception designed to get a partner into bed/relationship/marriage and is ultimately a big fucking lie because it's unsustainable.I find that attitude...depressing as hell, and so I checked with other friends (male and female, touchy-feely and not) about romance in relationships and as a seduction tool.
Flowers: Husband, CF, and a few other males I asked are unanimously against buying/picking/giving flowers to a woman. And I'm sorry boys, but your reasons are FUCKING STUPID. Worded in various ways, the basic cop-out is "why would I want to buy you/her/anyone flowers as a token of my affection when flowers die? Isn't that a temporary and not-nice symbol?"
Nice try, but fail. Flowers are pretty, they smell nice, they brighten a room/day/life for a time, and know what? They MAKE RECIPIENTS SMILE. Their temporary nature, if you must be philosophical about it, is a reminder not to take things for granted because everything is temporary.
The fact is, not giving your partner flowers because YOU don't like them is a selfish reason. If SHE doesn't like flowers you're in the clear. If flowers make her day it's romantic to give them: it shows you're thinking about HER feelings.
Candlelight: CF doesn't like candlelight because he thinks it's part of an ulterior-motive: creating a seduction. Well...um...FUCKING DUH. I'm sorry, when did being seduced become a bad thing?
Soft lighting is the equivelent of make-up, lingerie, high heels, a dress, shaving, suit-and-tie, perfume/cologne or any other "dressing up" mask people wear to make themselves look appealing to their partner. Of COURSE you want your partner to find you sexy, and low lights are an easy way to 1) set a mood of quiet attentiveness and 2) instantly airbrush some of the flaws about which a person may be self conscious (stretch marks come to mind: they're fucking ANNOYINGLY obvious in harsh light). Do you notice the flaws? Maybe not, and finding your partner attractive with all his/her flaws is part of what makes you awesome. But it's not about whether YOU notice them: it's about whether HE/SHE feels self-conscious about them. Is a partner who feels attractive not a better date than one who is distracted by self-doubt? Yeah. Thought so.
Compliments/Cards/Mushy Talk: Seriously, this isn't romance, people. This is part of loving someone. If you aren't randomly complementing your partner after X years, why the fuck NOT? If you like something about him/her, TELL THEM. Your partner isn't a mind reader, and everyone likes to be told in no uncertain terms that they're appreciated, loved, liked, admired, that their boobs look awesome that day.
Jewelry: I admit I'm not a very girly girl when it comes to traditional presents. It irks me that jewelry commericals insist so strongly that men ONLY love their women if they buy fancy-pants cold stones. However, if that's what gets you all mushy and gooey about your partner I say go for it.
It's not that difficult: choose the gifts that your PARTNER will love. For example, for our anniversary this year I got my husband a pistol. Because he's an avid gun enthusiast and his plans of saving for it were dashed in the accident that stole a few months of his time. It meant something to him, even though I don't necessarily find a gun a romantic gift. *shrug* If you want to romance ME with gifts, buy me books. Get me a MN Wild jersey (my most EXCELLENT anniversary gift from Husband last year) or tickets. Clean my house so I can write. Make me dinner. BUY ME FUCKING FLOWERS*. Ha.
Effort, people. EFFORT: If "Romance" is effort put in to woo your partner and left at the wayside after a few years/marriage/kids/etc then maybe it was a deception. In that case, I guess I can agree with CF's assessment, but it makes me sad. But mostly I think it's laziness, not intentional jackassery that locks romance in a closet.
I've been guilty of romantic lazypantsness. It sucks: resentment and unappreciated invisibility are sneaky bastards who weasel their way between people in relationship: they must be executed. No matter how long a couple has been together, a little effort to set a scene, to purposefully seduce, to ROMANCE their partner is always an appreciated and cherished gesture. Ultimately, romance is never a waste if it makes you both feel appreciated, wanted, and valued, right? The trappings are utterly subjective, but they're still an important part of a loving and long-term relationship.
*in the interest of not making my husband look like a dick, he HAS given flowers on multiple occasions after we had that exact discussion about the worth of floral gifts early on in our relationship. Win.
UPDATE: I've been told Husband DID buy flowers before the conversation. However, I maintain we did HAVE that conversation at some point. Since I don't recall whether it was before or post-flowers, I concede the point.
Enough mush. On to the most important point of this post:
Let's discuss the total bowl of awesome it would be to give me Gerard Butler (preferably naked but not required) for any occasion, shall we?
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Why I'm NOT reading 50 Shades of Anything
My mother-in-law recently asked me if I read 50 Shades of Grey (nope, I sure didn't add a link to the book there and yup, it was on purpose). I could probably do a whole post jsust on inappropriate things my MIL has asked me over the years.
Instead, let me explain why I refuse to read them.
First: 50 Shades is fan fiction based on Twilight. I did read all four Twilight novels after much urging by certain friends (whom I've since forgiven but will never ever trust to recommend books again), and I'll NEVER GET THAT WEEK BACK. Nor have I been able to scrub them from my brain. I don't need that again.
Second: I like good writing. I tried to read the first few pages while idling at Barnes & Noble one day and was immediately turned off by bad sentence structure, word choices, and imagery. As a reader, I count on being completely immersed in that story's world. If I'm thrown out of the story by crappy writing there's no point in trying to finish.
Third: If you're going to write something that's marketed as "erotica" it goddamn well better be hot. EVERYONE I've asked said they'd read hotter sex scenes in standard romance novels. That means the majority of readers are just titilated by the idea of the domination/submission aspect, and that bores the hell out of me.
I'm not offended by the fetish or up in arms in a feminist stance against the idea: in fact I'm a pretty firm believer that whatever two consenting adults want to experiment in is cool. But the older man/young innocent (ugh) woman domination thing is SO UTTERLY CLICHE it's just downright boring. It's as tired as the old bodice ripper versions of romance novels: it's been done...adding a ball gag doesn't make it new.
I unapolegetically adore romance novels. A group of friends has had a Dirty Book Club going on for quite a few years, which is where I discovered fabulous authors like Gena Showalter, P.C. Cast, and Kresley Cole. I HIGHLY recommend any of their novels for fantastic storylines, excellent worlds and hot hot hot sex scenes.
I'd buy any of their works, anytime...because when there's a long list of books to be read out there and a short amount of time it's worth reading the good stuff.
UPDATE: Yes, I'm aware the actual title is Fifty Shades of Grey. I'm lazy. Deal.
Instead, let me explain why I refuse to read them.
First: 50 Shades is fan fiction based on Twilight. I did read all four Twilight novels after much urging by certain friends (whom I've since forgiven but will never ever trust to recommend books again), and I'll NEVER GET THAT WEEK BACK. Nor have I been able to scrub them from my brain. I don't need that again.
Second: I like good writing. I tried to read the first few pages while idling at Barnes & Noble one day and was immediately turned off by bad sentence structure, word choices, and imagery. As a reader, I count on being completely immersed in that story's world. If I'm thrown out of the story by crappy writing there's no point in trying to finish.
Third: If you're going to write something that's marketed as "erotica" it goddamn well better be hot. EVERYONE I've asked said they'd read hotter sex scenes in standard romance novels. That means the majority of readers are just titilated by the idea of the domination/submission aspect, and that bores the hell out of me.
I'm not offended by the fetish or up in arms in a feminist stance against the idea: in fact I'm a pretty firm believer that whatever two consenting adults want to experiment in is cool. But the older man/young innocent (ugh) woman domination thing is SO UTTERLY CLICHE it's just downright boring. It's as tired as the old bodice ripper versions of romance novels: it's been done...adding a ball gag doesn't make it new.
I unapolegetically adore romance novels. A group of friends has had a Dirty Book Club going on for quite a few years, which is where I discovered fabulous authors like Gena Showalter, P.C. Cast, and Kresley Cole. I HIGHLY recommend any of their novels for fantastic storylines, excellent worlds and hot hot hot sex scenes.
I'd buy any of their works, anytime...because when there's a long list of books to be read out there and a short amount of time it's worth reading the good stuff.
UPDATE: Yes, I'm aware the actual title is Fifty Shades of Grey. I'm lazy. Deal.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Fancy-Pants Hotel, or Den of Iniquity?
Last weekend we had an un-aptly-named "Staycation," because neither of us had the available PTO to go to Florida with the rest of the family.
We stayed here: The Graves 601, partially because the location is pretty darn ideal for wandering around downtown Minneapolis (The Graves is across from Target Center/Target Field, next to Kieran's Irish Pub, 2 blocks away from Nicollet Mall, and right next to a Starbucks...not that the Starbucks locale had ANYTHING to do with my decision when making reservations. Really!), partially because the price was slightly less than a few other luxury hotels in the area, and partially because I'm morbid and enjoyed the idea of staying in "The Graves."
The room was Ikea-esque: ultra modern with the whole low-profile bed, small-ish modern furniture, and a shower-only bathroom. Of course, the shower-only bathroom was acceptable since it was one of those 5 head massaging showers that hit you from the top of your head to your knees...awesome.
What I was NOT aware of (nor does their website say this anywhere): the Graves is a totally suggestive sex room. Is that because it's across from a major concert venue or because it's a business hotel during the week? I'm not sure, and honestly I don't think I want to know.
The naughtiness begins with artwork:
We stayed here: The Graves 601, partially because the location is pretty darn ideal for wandering around downtown Minneapolis (The Graves is across from Target Center/Target Field, next to Kieran's Irish Pub, 2 blocks away from Nicollet Mall, and right next to a Starbucks...not that the Starbucks locale had ANYTHING to do with my decision when making reservations. Really!), partially because the price was slightly less than a few other luxury hotels in the area, and partially because I'm morbid and enjoyed the idea of staying in "The Graves."
The room was Ikea-esque: ultra modern with the whole low-profile bed, small-ish modern furniture, and a shower-only bathroom. Of course, the shower-only bathroom was acceptable since it was one of those 5 head massaging showers that hit you from the top of your head to your knees...awesome.
What I was NOT aware of (nor does their website say this anywhere): the Graves is a totally suggestive sex room. Is that because it's across from a major concert venue or because it's a business hotel during the week? I'm not sure, and honestly I don't think I want to know. The naughtiness begins with artwork:
Those are supposed to be a woman holding a pear. That does NOT look like a pear to me: that looks like a weird, bumpy, GIANT green scrotum. Seriously, alien testicles on the wall in our room, cradled gently by a female hand. So apparently it was a sci-fi sex room.
Then we looked in the mini bar. Not only was there some premium (and ridiculously expensive) mini-bottles of booze (crown royal...for $15 a shot), but the "extras" in the minibar included:
- A disposable camera.
- A "female intimacy kit" in a charming black box, including various lubes.
- A "regular" intimacy kit, including 2 condoms and "gynecological" wet wipes.
- A shoehorn.
- A wine bottle opener.
- A bandage/first aid kit (in case the shoehorn didn't work?)
- Two types of suggestively labeled breath mints.
On the flip side, the food in the hotel's restaurant was fantastic, the view was pretty awesome, and the staff was very nice and accommodating. All in all I'd recommend that hotel for a romantic weekend, but maybe without the alien nut art.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Yo Ho, Yo Ho, A Pirate for me...Spoiler
So Pirates 3 did NOT provide the Disney-like fairy-tale ending I craved. I'm disturbed by the relatively tragic ending, and the "wait until after the credits" advice was not enough to replace my general sense of sadness upon exiting the theater. I actually dreamed about it that night, and not only because Orlando Bloom is ridiculously hot in black silk.
Perhaps it's the lack of closure: to this day I'll have nightmares if I watch a supernatural/monster horror movie and the evil entity doesn't die in the end. When I was a child I saw exactly half of Tremors on tv. I wasn't allowed to see the end because 8pm was bedtime when I was 10. For the entire summer I RAN from my front porch to the barn, convinced that if I could just make it to concrete the ishy, girl-eating worms couldn't get me. Of course, my horse would announce any danger when I was riding, so that was never an issue, but I didn't set food on the grass for months.
I'm nearly 30 and haven't changed: The Grudge? I was up for three days. I actually woke up hearing that horrific sound the ghost made coming from some dark corner in my room. Turned out the dog snores.
Back to Johnny Depp's protuding probiscus and the un-Disney ending. I'm unsatisfied! It's been nearly a week and I remain downright depressed about the fate of the lovers, because seeing my husband once every 10 years would be damned disheartening. If he's immortal, is she also? If not, what a horrible fate for both of them! Jesus, they FINALLY get married and get some, only to find out he's only allowed to see her once every 10 years? I find the lack of details irritating, and hope the whole thing is hinting at another sequel instead of leaving it at that.
Often legends are legends because horrible things happen to the hero and heroine, but dammit, there should be SOME closure! Maybe that's why I'm so fascinated with Nora Roberts books...she takes horrible lovelorn legends and RESOLVES them with happy endings. And who couldn't use a happy ending now and again?
Captaining the Flying Dutchman clearly agrees with Will Turner, though...good God I needed kleenex to wipe the drool. I've already informed my husband that I won't rest until he's in possession of a black silk pirate costume...Yum!
Perhaps it's the lack of closure: to this day I'll have nightmares if I watch a supernatural/monster horror movie and the evil entity doesn't die in the end. When I was a child I saw exactly half of Tremors on tv. I wasn't allowed to see the end because 8pm was bedtime when I was 10. For the entire summer I RAN from my front porch to the barn, convinced that if I could just make it to concrete the ishy, girl-eating worms couldn't get me. Of course, my horse would announce any danger when I was riding, so that was never an issue, but I didn't set food on the grass for months.
I'm nearly 30 and haven't changed: The Grudge? I was up for three days. I actually woke up hearing that horrific sound the ghost made coming from some dark corner in my room. Turned out the dog snores.
Back to Johnny Depp's protuding probiscus and the un-Disney ending. I'm unsatisfied! It's been nearly a week and I remain downright depressed about the fate of the lovers, because seeing my husband once every 10 years would be damned disheartening. If he's immortal, is she also? If not, what a horrible fate for both of them! Jesus, they FINALLY get married and get some, only to find out he's only allowed to see her once every 10 years? I find the lack of details irritating, and hope the whole thing is hinting at another sequel instead of leaving it at that.
Often legends are legends because horrible things happen to the hero and heroine, but dammit, there should be SOME closure! Maybe that's why I'm so fascinated with Nora Roberts books...she takes horrible lovelorn legends and RESOLVES them with happy endings. And who couldn't use a happy ending now and again?
Captaining the Flying Dutchman clearly agrees with Will Turner, though...good God I needed kleenex to wipe the drool. I've already informed my husband that I won't rest until he's in possession of a black silk pirate costume...Yum!
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