I was raped.

I have been out of the blogging and social scene for a few weeks now. I had shut myself off from the world, locked myself in my room avoided social contact, I felt dirty, I felt confused, I felt used and damaged,  and I felt like something had been stolen from me. I had lost no, not lost I had been robbed, cheated.  I had been raped.

I would like to tell you exactly how I remember it. But I can’t do that. I can only tell you to the point I remember and the after affects this event has had on my life.  I can share with you in detail what witnesses have told me but I can’t say that I saw or remember any part of this.  Which lead me to a very important question, if I can’t remember this how could I have agreed to it?

I had blacked out, couldn’t walk, in and out of consciousness and all the while my friend I had known for a very long time “cared for me”.  I’m using this term cared for me very loosely because I cannot whole heartedly believe that I was in the care of a good friend anymore.  So, I’m going to give you a time line which is all I have from friends.

Last thing I remember:  Small drink of pop (the only drink left in the can) that had been brought to me and a shot of Jack. I will not claim I was intoxicated completely. Had I have had a few drinks yes. But I handle my alcohol much better than black outs, incoherent speech and complete shutdown of my entire body, muscles limp, body uncontrollable and unmovable.

I would like to say I remember driving or being driven but I do not. I also do not remember getting back into my house. Nor do I remember ending up in my bed, having sex, or having my friends show up in the middle and catching him red handed.

In the words of my friends I came to for a moment and yelled “I didn’t fucking agree to have sex with you I didn’t say you could do that to me.” Then I passed back out. I had been strung across my bed, without my underwear legs spread apart. I can vouch for the fact that I never sleep on my back hands above my head legs spread wide open in half my clothes but I do not remember this happening.

In the words of my friends I was not drunk they had seen me drunk before. I giggled and laughed and made a fool of myself but I could hold my head up. I could carry on a conversation without passing out in the middle of it. I could stand up without falling I could move about the house without slamming my head into walls or falling on the floor passing out yet again. I am not that type of drunk. My friend who is a nurse said I “didn’t seem right”.

My friend I had known for years who answered their call upon my door unexpectedly dressing himself claimed to have been asleep on the couch. He acted weird they said. He was persistent that Single girl had just drank too much. And that they should leave. Then he was persistent that they NOT go into my room to check on me or try to wake me up.

 “He acted uncomfortable when you screamed at him and went pale. He tried to tell you that you agreed to it but you kept insisting that you had not. I wanted you to come with us. So we told you to get ready and you feel. He said he would help you. You yelled at him the entire time. He seemed in a hurry to get you gone and away from him. Then demanded he retrieve the bottle out of your car. He kept telling us to just take you along with us anyway. But you were clearly unable to stand or move. We were worried about you.  He then went back to the room to check on you and said that we needed to just leave because you had fallen back asleep but you had really passed back out. You were standing with your feet on the floor and had fallen backwards onto your bed still half dressed completely out of it. You couldn’t answer our questions and you mumbled unable to make some words. But you clearly insisted you did not agree to have sex with him. We left your house after an hour of trying to get you conscious again.”

I woke up three hours later. I looked at my phone wondering why my friends had not shown up to pick me up and how I had gotten home and was only half dressed. Why my feet were planted on the floor but my upper body lay awkwardly on my bed. I picked up my dress to hang it up and saw a discolored stain. I immediately text my friend “Did we have sex” and his reply “You better fucking be on birth control.”

I couldn’t remember anything. I tried asking him about it but he insisted I enjoyed myself to which I replied I must have just laid there unable to move because I had still felt some affects of what I thought to be alcohol since he insisted that I had drank so much.

Later I found out that I had maybe four or five shots. Not to sound like an alcoholic but that wouldn’t have done the trick. Also the bottle was not over half way empty as he had claimed. He also said we had both drank from the bottle and not a fourth of it was gone. If we both drank from it that still wouldn’t be enough to make me black out and have no recollection of the event. I did some talking to friends around me.  Things started not making any sense. His story didn’t fit how I felt, and what they had seen themselves.  His actions alone were out of character for him I had known him for years.

 My mom had even mentioned my behavior that night was unlike the girl she knows when I’ve been drinking.  I was lethargic and extremely tired. I just laid around, emotionless and relaxed. A comment from a friend made me google the date rape drug. I read each symptom off with tears streaming down my face. I had every single symptom of being slipped a drug in my drink. I was horrified and extremely disgusted with not only him but myself. I had always been so protective of myself. I watch my drinks at bars. I don’t take drinks from strangers I always request it come straight to my hand from the bar tender. I never leave my drinks unattended. But I had known this person. I had shared good times with this person I had been drunk with this person. I didn’t fear him. I didn’t worry about his intentions.

I spent a week blaming myself. And trying to avoid this at all cost, I had no memory of it but couldn’t get it out of my mind. I recently decided to speak with friends about it. We are consulting lawyers we know, police officers we know and I will be having a hair strand tested specifically for this type of drug. It is now too late for a blood or urine test to show any signs of the drug in my system however the hair is a much different story. I will get to know the truth. If it turns out I was not drugged and I was just “drunk” I still did not agree to it or was in my right state of mind to agree to this event. And if I said “yes “at any point I was not coherent enough to make a sound choice therefore it is still rape.  

I thought this would be so much easier to write about but it has been the hardest story to share because I don’t know the details I don’t know what happened all I know is that it was wrong.  Someone I trusted did this to me. Not a stranger, not some creepy man stalking me in the shadows, someone I knew and cared for was able to damage me and take something from me.  He was able to completely control me and my actions.

It is with a heavy heart that I share this story with you. Some of you may have experienced this and some of you may not have.  But know this; it’s never your fault. Please be careful and guard yourself sadly even among the closest of friends.  I have no clever saying or thought to leave behind with you other than; rape or unconsentual sex is never ok.  

And well... I did it.

I am just like you.I have flaws.
I have real friends and fake friends.
I'm faithful and faithless.
I'm loving but unloved.
I'm bitter and hardcore.
I would go back if I could.
I have regrets.
I make mistakes.
I trust too little and yet too much.

Most importantly.... I lost my bet.

Oh you have an Oral fixation? I'll pass...

In honor of a picture recently posted on What the Random about eating out I must share my personal opinion about this sexual act. (Everyone reading this due to facebook should “LIKE” their page.) I know many women and girls will disagree with me on this one.  I know many men who will be disappointed in this one but here it goes…

I don’t enjoy anyone going down on me for more than a few minutes. I understand the concept and I get that some people really enjoy both having it done and doing it but I feel it’s a waste of time. Get it over with and let’s get into the good stuff! It’s just a step onto better things in my opinion. It’s foreplay that shouldn’t last the majority of our romp in the sheets.  Get down there do what you have to do and get out so we can move on. And if it’s a little dry down there, sorry you’re not doing it for me but just get it over with. Do what needs to be done so we can move on to having sex.  But I will be honest there are far better ways to turn me on than that.

Guys are constantly telling me how much they enjoy this and how they’d rather be doing that then having sex sometimes but I’m not impressed. When a guy tells me that I usually think he’s a liar or bragging but still not impressed. What guy doesn’t want his penis in a vagina but wants his tongue in one? I don’t see how that’s better?!?!?!  It’s not that I’ve never enjoyed a session of mouth to bottom lips action because I have. At one time I actually preferred it over sex. But once I actually had good sex it doesn’t even compare. So when a man brags about how much he enjoys “going down” or “eating out” I simply wonder if maybe he’s just not good enough to get me off any other way.  Is your penis not doing the trick? Is your tongue longer than your penis? I know the tongue is more flexible and a strong muscle but come on guys…

My girl friends thing I’m crazy. They think that a nice make out session below the belt creates a far better orgasm than having sex.  And apparently there’s nothing they hate more than a guy who refuses to go down to the “V” zone.  So let me be fair and give you some tips I’ve researched to help you out. For the girls who love it and the guys who aren’t good at it but like to do it, or the guys who won’t do it. This may help everyone involved.  But just because I’m giving you this information does not mean I want you to use it or try it on me.

1.    Prep her for what’s to come. You can start by kissing her all over her body. Begin by kissing her deeply in the lips. Move down to her neck and then to her nipples. After this, slowly move down to the stomach. As you near her vagina, skip it and go directly to the legs. Build excitement to the point until she is literally begging for it.

2.    Test the waters. With your tongue, check her vagina for wetness. If you have been doing your work right, the vagina should already be moist. Lick around the labia and in the inner labia. They should be creaming at this point. If this is the case, proceed to the next step. If not, go back to step 1.

3.    Write the alphabet with your tongue. The next step involves a lot of tongue dexterity. Once she is wet, spread out the lips of her vagina to expose the inside. This is the time you write with your tongue. Start by learning your ABCs. Once you have gone through the alphabet, go to your numbers.

4.    Give her a great finale. This is where you really rock her world. Slowly insert your finger. Check for signs that she is digging it. Try to look for her G-spot. The G-spot will give her an experience she will never forget. While you manipulate her G-spot, find her clitoris. It should be button at the top of the inner labia. Lick it at a constant rhythm. Move your tongue faster and faster until she starts moaning and wailing. Her but should be gyrating at this point. Lick the clitoris faster while playing with her G-spot. The vagina should tighten up until it suddenly just goes lax. At this point, I congratulate you. You just gave her a finale she won’t forget.

 But if this doesn’t work… just use your penis. After all that’s what it was intended for!  Don’t be selfish though… everyone should get “theirs”.  Don’t just work to please yourself, it should be a good time for everyone! 

**Please note that I did not mention my stance on giving oral sex. This is simply my opinion on getting it.

“The tragedy is when you've got sex in the head instead of down where it belongs.”

~D.H. Lawrence

Virgin alert! Definately not your typical Milk man!

I dated a 29 year old virgin. And I do not hate on his choices for his life. He wanted to wait until he was married more power to him.  The fact that he was a virgin was the least of my worries.  He was very open about his decision to wait and in a way it was kind of nice to find someone who had some morals left. He was a botanist, he made me planter (which quickly died in my care.) He tried teaching me about plants and trees and I just kept telling him I liked Dandelions (nothing more than a weed not a plant by the way but I happen to adore them). 

Then after our second official date (I say official date because in a matter of two to three weeks he had just moved himself into my life without my permission other than these few occasions) he had named our children. OUR CHILDREN WE DIDN’T (and wouldn’t) HAVE already had names. And he picked out the type of dog we were going to have to practice being parents and where we were going to live. What OUR fictional children would call his mother along with the fact that he wanted to name OUR one fictional daughter after his mother… which had a horrific name like Agnid.  And he insisted I would breast feed, which is a whole different rant for me but not happening.

Despite the nonexistent happily ever after fairy tale he had invented for us, the thing that really bothered me for some reason was that every time we went out to eat or stopped to get a drink through a drive through or even at my house he had to have milk. He had gone through two gallons of milk in two times at my house. We went to P.F. Changs and he tried to get milk… you can’t get milk there!!!!! They don’t have milk!!!!  He considered going out to the gas station down the road and coming back with milk. Most places only carry milk for children. So there we’d be on a date (me with my alcoholic beverage) and him with his little kid carton of milk and swirly straw.

To top off his milk and creepy planning of my entire life, he was a terrible kisser and let’s be honest, it’s all in the kiss. It can make or break even the best of dates.  He had informed me he was attacked by a dog as a child and his face had to be reconstructed near his mouth. You couldn’t visibly tell except for a tiny facial scar near his left side of his lips. There was nothing creepy about it until he told me that he had no feeling on that side of his face. I didn’t think it was possible to only use half of your lips to kiss but he did and it was terrible… the rest just sat there completely uninvolved.  To make matters worse he was just bad at it in general. Now I love me a man with scruff and facial hair and I’ve NEVER had an issue with it. But his kissing was so bad it was like smearing sandpaper across my chin while a wet rag was rung out over my face.  I ended up with a rug burn on my chin and refused to let him kiss me again.  My face oozed trying to scab over and it hurt. And I looked like I had a flesh eating disorder.
By official date three he was just showing up at my house as I was trying to avoid him.  I tried ignoring his texts and I tried telling him I was horrible person. But he just wouldn’t go away.   He was like the cat you feed once and it just keeps coming back. Only I did not feel bad for him… I wanted to slap him constantly. He annoyed me, with everything he said and every time he took a drink of milk I wanted him to choke on it. He was unbearable and was trying to force me to go to church with him.  I do not like when people try to force me to do anything.  
I couldn’t take it anymore. It came to the point where he was talking to me as I ignored him until he said “And though you have three tattoos I’ll over look that you just can’t get anymore…”  Excuse me I said?  To which he obviously repeated himself. This was it. It was now or never, I had to get rid of the milk boy no matter what the cost.  I jumped up made some very rude comments threw his gallon of milk on to the porch and told him he had to leave that no one was going to tell me what I could or couldn’t do.  And he smiled and said “You’re just a little upset right now I’ll see you tomorrow.”
So I began hiding my car. Staying out or going out for as long as possible because he would try to stop by he kept emailing me about stupid “memories” in the short time we had shared. He even brought up our nonexistent children when he cried on my voicemail.  After ignoring him, not responding to his texts and blocking all contact with him, I thought I was finally free.

But the cat came back. He just wouldn’t stop. And to this day now nearly two years later he still randomly emails me wanting to hang out like old times… and how much he misses me. What I find ironic about this is that I was mean to him 99% of the time we were around each other. I considered him nothing more than three dates and he considered me marriage material.

“Milk does a body good… but it can’t fix crazy.”

He was such a nice guy... that I really did date him! I swear!!!!

I’ve lied to you all and for that I’m going to apologize. This whole time I have told you that I have never dated a nice guy. That I don’t like them but that’s not the case. I did date a nice guy. He was wonderful and you'll be so jealous of my ability to have this man and wonder why it didn't work out.

MJ and I began talking through as sad as this may sound a dating website. When I was no longer a member he had tracked me down (not creepily) through facebook or myspace or AIM… I cannot remember which. We talked for an extremely long time, both via internet and on the phone and through text.

He was independent, had his own house, multiple cars, a truck and two jobs. Plus he was attending school to accomplish a goal. I know right a man I dated had a goal. So, here I was “talking” to MJ when we finally decided to meet. He paid for all our outings, held the door for me, held my hand in public, went out of his way to say wonderful things to me,  complimented me often and drove miles out of his way just to see me.  

He thought I was perfect. And as hard for me to admit, he was far from right about that. But he didn’t seem to mind he was extremely happy with me and our situation.  Now when I say ‘situation’, it’s merely the fact that little things were out of the ordinary for a person that someone would be dating.  He lived nearly two hours away from me, which doesn’t leave much time to see each other. He could only talk to me on the phone certain nights and could only text me occasionally do to work and school apparently.   I was never allowed to go to his house because of the drive being so far so we always met each other in the middle since my house was being worked on.  

I had never met any of his friends or family and there were times I could only see him one day early morning on the weekends. This all made sense to me since he worked and had school and was so dedicated to his newly chosen field.  I was impressed that I had found someone with those actual qualities. How lucky was I? A nice guy, who treats me well, goes above and beyond wants to make me happy, spoils me and says he loves me and would do anything for me… does it get any better?  What more does a Single girl need?

Then I get the phone call…

The rant of woman and not just any woman, his live in girlfriend was calling me. Ironically at the same time I had drank a ton of vodka and mixed completely on accident a “happy” pill.  I was miserable and sick the room was spinning and now some crazy girlfriend was bitching in my ear about me spending time with her boyfriend. (She called from his phone) Asking me about texts and pictures (not sexy pictures just pictures in general) and did I know this how long has it been going on …

I stopped listening to her nagging when I realized we had both been played the fool. She finished with her rant and the only reason I know she finished is because she hung up on me.

I paused for a moment thinking how ironic this situation was that the nicest guy I’d ever dated had me as a backup plan. Considering how nice he was it made a lot of sense. The only guy to treat me like I was the only woman on earth was using me as the “other woman”.  Then my phone rang again… (same number) I answered drunk and near ready to throw up and it was her again! She once again went on a rant and this time I could hear him pounding on a door in the back ground trying to get in and talk to her saying “Baby let’s go for a walk… baby let’s talk” … as he yelled, she yelled at me and I finally said “Look… I’m fucking drunk I’m about to puke you need to take this up with your boyfriend I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m a single girl and proud of it…”  or something alone those drunken lines.

The next day my Knight in shining tin foil tried to explain the situation as “we’re not together, we just still live together because of our land contract… she’s just jealous I’ve moved on…”

Moral of my story: 1. If it’s too good to be true it probably is.
                                    2. If it doesn’t add up something is wrong.
                                 3. If you feel like you’re number two in his life, there’s probably a number one.

“Women stop getting mad at the other woman… we were lied to as well. Hate the player not the played.”

WHAT IF... wishes were fishes...

I’ve been told that it takes half the time you were in a relationship with someone to get over them.  Apparently if you were with someone for six years you’re not over them completely until three years later. Spent six months with them, well you’re not completely over them until three months later. If this is true then I am successfully over everyone I’ve ever been in relationships with. This is a huge accomplishment for me to have that entire burden off my shoulder.  I just paused to pat myself on the back for those relationships being completely ‘over’ in the mental and physical sense. 

I honestly don’t believe it took me the entire half of the time to be over these people just that knowing I made that mark is a huge feat. There is no getting around it. I am a successful single girl, free of burdens and bitterness of past relationships.  Ok maybe slightly a little bitter but I like to pretend that means I’m smarter now. Bitter to me equals cautious. I’m a little pickier these days with who I chose to spend time with. Once bitten twice as shy. No, that’s not good either because I’m definitely not shy… the point is I’m guarded. Maybe like Fort Knox but it’s because I’m smarter I believe, less likely to be burned again in the future. Maybe I have learned something from my repetitive cycle of horrible relationships. MAYBE…

With the ghost of past relationships no longer haunting me I have stumbled upon a new issue. How long does it take to get over someone you were never in a relationship with? Is there a time span on how long you can hold on to something that never was? How can you honestly completely get rid of someone you were never given a chance with… it seems impossible since you don’t know what could have happened. Will I always wonder ‘what if’?

After a pause in the blog a walk around the house and a drink, I have decided the only cure for this is one of two things. Either I make it happen (which probably isn’t likely) or I find someone else to replace them (which isn’t looking good at this point either). I’d chose option one over two any day but option two is more likely. The only problem with that is dating and such (dancing pant less, knocking boots, romantic rodeo, naked wrestling, ect.) is off limits until at least July 16^th. 

So even if I were to give in or stumble onto someone else or actually get what I want… it wouldn’t happen because I’m stubborn, and I’ll win my bet no matter what. But for the time being… Any advice on what to do is greatly appreciated.  My question to you is how to get over what I’ve never really had… 

“I keep telling myself I’m not the desperate type.”

Your Opinions on This Single Girl

Since I have been able to share my opinion about everything and everyone and it isn't always a pleasent one, I'm giving those who know me the opportunity to express their opinions about me flaws and all...  So here they are, those who were brave enough to take on this task!

*She's female obviously evil.

*She's sarcastic and can't be taken seriously!

*Single Girl dyes her hair way too much! And she won’t have sex with me.

*Single Girl drinks way too much and worries me.

*Single Girl has a hard exterior with a soft mushy inside. She’s independent, intelligent, stubborn, girly, and a tad bit nerdy but not too much, she’s super crazy fun to be around and always there to back up her friends. Her greatest asset: She’s down to earth and easy to get along with. But her biggest flaw: she will always fall for the guys who would rather snub her than love her.

*Single Girl is too independent for men. We want to feel needed and feel like we have some control and she completely rips that away from us. She’s threatening.

*Single Girl has let a bitter past ruin future relationships.

*Single Girl doesn’t trust anyone or give them a chance.

*Single Girl is bossy.

*Crazy, female, drinks.

*Always has an excuse not to see me…

*Does Single Girl like anything other than horror slasher movies?

*She’s a bitch and tells it like it is. But isn’t that why we love her?

*Single girl doesn’t like nice guys like me…

*She obviously has low self esteem.

*Single girl needs to stop trying to save the world and start saving herself.

*Single girl is a cynical, brutal individual and I heart her for it.

*When the going gets tough… she runs.

*Single girl thinks she is a very strong independent person that can do anything and everything on her own but deep down she’s just a young woman who needs a good man to stand by her.

*Her bark is worse than her bite.

*She’s a person who is very strong stubborn minded. She’s got answers for everyone but herself. She picks the wrong guys and needs to change her outlook on life.

*Single Girl wants too much.

*Single Girl is a curmudgeon!