After having this blog for a while, it's occurred to me that this may not help in my love department. Don't get me wrong, I would be more than willing to bring some of this stuff up after a glass of wine or five if I didn't know you that well...but, having it on the Internet is kind of a different story. It's almost as if having a diary just open on a busy city sidewalk, with a neon sign by it that says "READ ME." But in all fairness, it was my choice to do this. In a way this is a way to document all of my crazy experiences, the modern way. Though, I do have a regular journal I write in every night. (The stuff in that would make your eyes pop out even more.) Anyways, the point I'm trying to make is...there are people who are regular readers of this blog, that I don't know that well or for that matter, at all. I have readers in the United Kingdom, Italy, and Orange County, FL. For instance, a former classmate of mine told me how much her two brothers love my blog. Well, who the hell are they? I'm appreciative of the audience but still a little guarded. Yes, sometimes I do care about what people think about me. 98% of the time I don't. But, anyone who says they don't at all, need to check their pants because they're a liar. We like to be liked and for people to think positive things about us. And by not knowing the readers, I always think "God, they must think I'm crazy wild with little or no boundaries, partying 24/7, with no sleep in between." I can promise you that image is not right. At all. Another obstacle in keeping a blog is when talking to a guy who has been exposed to your entries. They either think one of two things - 1.) "Every day spent with her is going to involve something hilarious, crazy, absurd or possibly all three." Or my favorite - 2.) "What if I do or say something stupid? She's going to write a blog about me. I don't want to be one of her little entries." My response to the second thought is "Don't flatter yourself, there are many stories about guys I've encountered that I don't plan on posting that are quite humorous because it would be obvious to some readers on who it might be. And I'm not that cruel.
The point of this blog that I'm "trying" to make is that I'm not always that crazy girl with movie style adventures. Yes, I've gone to Bondage Bars but I consider my Grams to be one of my best friends. Yes, I've watched Rock stars snort cocaine off of women's body parts but taught Bible School the following Sunday. Yes, I had the radio station I was interning for talk about my bikini line on the air but I spend a lot of my time at the library, Yes, I "borrowed" a police car but would be where ever you are in a heart beat if you needed my help at 4 in the morning, Yes, I bungee jumped but I scream like a little girl when a mouse is near. And sometimes I stay in Saturday nights watching the West Wing, soaking in a bubble bath, and making up potential raps in my head. Yes, I'm a bundle of sass with a dash of wild but let's not forget the side of sweet.
So, I'm not expecting my readers to understand how I operate from this little post. I'm a little bit of this and that. Unpredictable with rituals. Independent with the need for encouragement. Open with her sexuality but picky with who she exposes that side to. An obsessive shopper who changes her own oil. I'm simply a walking contradiction in heels.
The puzzle of myself is not put together like everyone else's, it's occasionally missing some pieces, and the pattern or picture may not make sense to most, but it does...to me. And that's all that really matters in the end.
xox
Hotto
(Part II)
In the middle of him telling me how he feels, his bedroom window flung open in a dramatic matter, and a person's head popped in screaming at the top of their lungs. Not saying anything but just screaming, like the scream you would hear in a Halloween movie. My first thought was 1.) I'm going to pee the sheets with how much that scared the living crap outta me and 2.) I'm assuming this person is one of his idiotic friends playing a trick. The second thought was quickly corrected after I realized this person trying to climb in the bedroom was a blonde woman, with a crazy look on her face, a hammer in her right hand and screaming "I'm going to kill you, you fucking whore."Was she talking to me? Or the wimpy scared looking naked guy standing in the far corner that left me in his bed?
Once again, Hotto was in the position of being the dominant one in the situation while a guy with a man-gina is backing up from the crazy mess. I swear, I should just carry a model of a huge penis around with gigantic balls because I'm obviously the only one to have them in scenarios.
I looked at the crazy blonde struggling to get in the bedroom and then I looked at Matt just staring at this psycho female with his mouth practically on the frickin floor.
Okay, I thought to myself. You can't just sit in the bed and wait for this girl to attack you with the hammer that's in her hand and lord knows you can't be the damsel in distress because Mattie boy's feet is cemented near the corner of the room. So, do the first thing that comes to you, it'll be genius. Hopefully...
I had to do something quick before struggling Sally grabbed a hold of something sturdy to pull herself up, plus her loud yelling and two out of the three people in the equation being naked still did not help the process of thinking of something beyond brilliant.
I had three choices in the matter, I could have A.) Screamed along with her and convinced her that we should record our screams after I get dressed and send it to some upcoming horror films to use during the scary parts. B.) Work out a schedule with her and tell her she could have Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other Saturday to scream at his house and I get the rest of the days with him alone. Or C.) High five Matt for getting me into this fucking situation and for being added to the list of men sporting a man-gina that I know.
...None of those "genius" plans seemed to actually solve my problem. So, I went with my backup...I moved closer to her, closed my eyes, prayed to all the gods of the universe, and pushed her out the window, followed by locking it. (PS the fall was not far down but she does scream different when she's falling compared to when attacking.)
I sat there for a minute trying to sort everything that was happening in my head and then I remembered Matt was still in the room with me...
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" I screamed.
"I DON'T KNOW. I MEAN WOW! THAT WAS INTENSE!" He shouted back.
"INTENSE IS NOT THE WORD I WOULD BE USING RIGHT NOW. WHO IS SHE, MATT?!" I asked.
"I DON"T KNOW WHO THAT WAS, A CRAZY FAN PROBABLY OR MAYBE MY EX..."
"YOU NEED TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS." I ordered.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?" He cried in a pathetic manner.
Right at that moment I heard the front door open, some loud thumping, and a female voice screaming "I'm going to slash your throat, you fucking bitch."
Well, where I come from we use hammers for building stuff but whatever floats your boat, sister. Be creative.
As both Matt and I heard her stomping her way through the house, Matt actually volunteered to take over. It's about time. But, PS get some clothes on or her screaming may turn into laughing when she sees you.
As he left the room, he shut the door behind him and I locked it, just to give me enough time to get my clothes on, so I wouldn't be kicking this bitch's ass in my birthday suit. (save your perverted thoughts, please.)
And then I realized, my clothes were outside of the bathroom. Lucky me.
I heard her yelling some more in the house. "Where is she?! Is she hiding in the bathroom?!"
Yeah, I'm in the bathroom drawing you a bath, would you like bath salts or bubbles?! Come on now!!!
Sad part was, I needed in the bathroom to get my clothes and purse that had my cell phone in it to call my best friend, Jen.
I needed to some how sneak passed them to get the bathroom. But, how the hell was I going to do that? I was praying to god that she was going to stop in the kitchen to make herself a sandwich before she continued on trying to kill me.
Luckily I heard Matt tell her to calm down and informing her that I darted out the back door and already left.
Perfect. Maybe that will distract her and give me enough time.
So, I carefully opened the door slowly and peeked my head out. I couldn't see them. I needed to go all James Bond on this situation and remain sneaky. So, there I am tip toeing through the hall, with a sheet wrapped around me, looking like I'm ready for a toga party at the animal house. And then the creak happened. Of course it did. The floor creaked as I made my final step to the bathroom and she heard it. There came Speedy Gonzales through the house ready to introduce me to her handy dandy hammer. Luckily I was already near the bathroom door and locked it as fast as Matt came during sex. Call me a chicken for not facing her then, but until God dropped me a tool box from the heavens and gave me a wrench or a drill to make this showdown even, I was not going to take the chance on having some damage down to me by a hammer. I needed back up. So, I called my best friend.
I wasn't exactly sure what she was going to do in this situation to help me out but I just needed someone on team Hotto because Matt was doing a shitty job. I need a cheerleader or something.
After pushing a mini shelf up against the door, I called Jen. It was 2' o clock in the morning and I was praying that she was still up.
I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't want to freak her out and tell her the exact details. So I planned on just kind of summarizing the predicament I was in.
She answered and this is what I said - "Jen, I need you here at Matt's house as soon as you can. I just lost my virginity, I've locked myself in a bathroom, and there's a crazy lady after me."
...way to be vague, Hotto.
She responded back with "Wait, you lost your virginity?"
"Ugh, forget that. Just bring your boyfriend Jack with you and get here."
After I hung up, I realized I should have told her to bring her father's tool belt.
So there I was, hearing commotion outside the door, sounding like an elephant was trying to break through. And all I could think of was I still needed to put my clothes on, my vagina hurt from his porno pounding, and I wondered if the Sheetz down the road made slushies because I was frickin thirsty.
Finally after sitting there on the edge of the bathtub for what seemed like 4 hours, the noise stopped.
I heard knocking on the door and Matt told me it was him and that his ex had finally left.
Since I had my clothes back on, I opened the door and actually hoped he was lying so I could grab her little neck. He was right, she was gone. He told me he called the cops and after she heard that, she jetted out of there but only after she keyed my brand new convertible.
Great! How was I going to explain that to my mother?!
The cops and Jen finally arrived and I had to explain to the cops what happened.
Their first response? "Wait, you lost your virginity?"
To make the ending of this short and to the point, I later found out that Matt was seeing his ex and she was not an ex at all but his girlfriend for quite some time and I was the other woman. I refused to answer his calls and the last email I got from him consisted of this...
"Sorry about that. I'm just a long for the ride."
Wow! Really?
He goes to college with me and occasionally I see him walking in the halls to his class. If you live around the Warren area, you've probably seen his flyers posted all over the place. Schools, Stores, Bars...You may have also seen comments written on the flyers in pen that talk about his little pee pee or other creative sayings. I have no idea who does that. (wink wink)
So, in closing I leave you with these statements...
1.) Not my ideal way to lose my virginity, but I tell you what, I will never forget it as long as I live.
2.) I've invested in a hammer since then.
3.) Soap operas don't have shit on me.
4.) My sex life has thankfully improved.
XoX
hotto
After having this blog for a while, it's occurred to me that this may not help in my love department. Don't get me wrong, I would be more than willing to bring some of this stuff up after a glass of wine or five if I didn't know you that well...but, having it on the Internet is kind of a different story. It's almost as if having a diary just open on a busy city sidewalk, with a neon sign by it that says "READ ME." But in all fairness, it was my choice to do this. In a way this is a way to document all of my crazy experiences, the modern way. Though, I do have a regular journal I write in every night. (The stuff in that would make your eyes pop out even more.) Anyways, the point I'm trying to make is...there are people who are regular readers of this blog, that I don't know that well or for that matter, at all. I have readers in the United Kingdom, Italy, and Orange County, FL. For instance, a former classmate of mine told me how much her two brothers love my blog. Well, who the hell are they? I'm appreciative of the audience but still a little guarded. Yes, sometimes I do care about what people think about me. 98% of the time I don't. But, anyone who says they don't at all, need to check their pants because they're a liar. We like to be liked and for people to think positive things about us. And by not knowing the readers, I always think "God, they must think I'm crazy wild with little or no boundaries, partying 24/7, with no sleep in between." I can promise you that image is not right. At all. Another obstacle in keeping a blog is when talking to a guy who has been exposed to your entries. They either think one of two things - 1.) "Every day spent with her is going to involve something hilarious, crazy, absurd or possibly all three." Or my favorite - 2.) "What if I do or say something stupid? She's going to write a blog about me. I don't want to be one of her little entries." My response to the second thought is "Don't flatter yourself, there are many stories about guys I've encountered that I don't plan on posting that are quite humorous because it would be obvious to some readers on who it might be. And I'm not that cruel.
