Monday, March 27, 2006

Top of the Morning to You!

It is a proven scientific fact that even as 5:00 am is first thing in the morning, 4:59:59 am is the middle of the flipping night. This is my Johnny Cash "Walk the Line" moment, and I face this razor's edge every workday. The alarm is set on that precarious precipice, poised pointedly and perfectly at the temporal convergence of night and day. On the rare occaisions when I do wake up in the middle of the night, 4:45 or so, I still force myself to lay there, and not stir. I can faintly hear a bird or two, the nighttime slowly fading to graceful gray of dawn.

I am one of those oddly crafted morning people. I love getting up "fishing early" and taking stock of my day. It is a wonderful time, the entire world is laid out for me, and only me, "The Universe's Favourite Childe" (tm) to enjoy. The streets are clear, nobody is about, and there may or may not be light poetic fog. A solo stroll from house to car, from parking garage to office. I walk more slowly, more deliberately in the mornings, taking my time, all this extra morning time, time for myself.

The Daylight Savings Time thingamajobby is this coming weekend, and I am very much looking forward to it, like a frantic puppy in training tracking a treat in her owner's clenched fist. More daylight = Happier Robbyblogger. I am trying my best not to treat Daylight Savings Time as yet another "chance" to totally re-invent my life, work out, be productive and cut back on the still adolescently frequent masturbatory olympics. Considering how entirely imaginary and pointless Daylight Saving Time is, I think I will be able to avoid putting too much pressure on this ficticious stellar event, and just take it the way I take all of my imaginary friends, with a tip of my hat and a kipper for Mr. Jumbles, the half rhino, half parakeet that accompanies me in the car and keeps me from falling asleep.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Alright, no pushing....

So here we are. Not pregnant.

Sometimes I wish I felt worse about it. Honestly. Its the suck, but between the long years of trying and failing, the very, very minimal work that I put into the mix, and the lack of biological hardwiring in my brain pan, our recent pregnancy setbacks just haven't hit me as hard as they have the Goodely Wyfe.

But, maybe that is all for the best. Up until now, GW has been the source of all my strength. She would be the last one to tell you, but she is stronger than ten people what are strong. She is amazing. You can imagine, then, how freaked out I get when GW gets nervous, scared or depressed. I try to make up little stories, songs, and sometimes even bust out the puppets to make her feel better. Now it seems, especially with the miscarriages, even the puppets haven't been able to help. And the puppets have always helped.

So, here I am, the strong one. It is I who doles out the hugs, makes the plans, brings the kindness and the understanding. It was impressive how smoothly the transition of power came, almost as soon as the genetic cocktail was created within her womb. It is comforting to me that I will have a very important role to play during pregnancy, not just in conception. So far, the role hasn't been as fun, but I hear it is ultimately very rewarding.

With that in mind, that I am now the one that "makes things alright", I came up with a bit of imagery for our process moving forward.

Listen:

There are lots of kids lined up for the position of "The Goodely Robbyblog Childe", and I can see them fairly clearly. The first, a little boy, is the child that Goodely and I will have on our own. He looks just like us, and draws his smiley faces all crooked like she does. He's a little scamp, that one. Now, should he not come to fruition, behind him is a little girl, conceived using my sperm, and either a donor's egg or womb to carry her to term. I can't tell you how magnanimous this offer has been to us, and even if it doesn't come to pass, we love the one that threw the idea out there.

And now, behind those kids, waiting ever so patiently, is a little Chinese girl. She is coloring in her book, not fidgeting or pushing or shoving. She may be last in line, but she hums a little song to herself because she knows that NO MATTER WHAT, we are coming for her eventually. Even if we bring the first little boy into the world, we are still going to head over to China and pick her up. She has plenty of time, and I love her for that already. I can see her in the sharpest focus, the clearest of all, as she is the surest thing. A good friend of mine told me that he was confident that I would raise a child, and he was right, and I can see her back there, plain as day, in her little dress, colouring in, out, over, adjacent to, and perpendicular to the lines...

...that's our girl.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Things That Make You Go.....Buzz?

WARNING: The following post contains subject of an adult and sexual nature. If you feel such material is inappropriate or offensive, I urge you to CONTINUE READING, as I feel it is important for folks to broaden their horizons and be exposed to subject matter that might make them think a little...differently.....

There are two things that every woman should have. Yes, I used "should", a word, like "supposed" that I have all but banned from my personal lexicon. I don't like "should", because it doesn't mean anything in and of itself. Should based on what? Suppose to, exactly why? Piff, feff and poop.

I say there are two things that every woman should have because I am not crazy about the way American society treats my ladies. Fashion magazines and entertainment television glorifies an almost impossible and improbable ideal focused on the size 0 eternally youthful myth. Again, I say Piff, feff and poop.

All women are beautiful. So there. To that end, the first thing I encourage all my ladies to do is to go and get yourselves professionally photographed. The disclaimer above nonwithstanding, these photos do not have to be naughty or risque (unless you choose to), just get yourself professionally made up (if you choose) and photographed. Even if you never show the photographs to anyone, you will have on hand an image of you that is something wondrous and treasured. Whenever you see a skeletal runway model or another female actor put out to pasture because she is "too old" at 32, or even when you are wearing your fat pants and are having a bad hair day, haul that Dorian Grey sucker out and take a look. THAT is how beautiful you are, all the time. You would do well to see yourself as the wonderful work of art that you are, the way enlightened gentlemen like myself see you.

The second thing that you positively MUST do, (and here's where we get naughty) is to get yourself a vibrator. Yes! I have said it, I will tell you what even The View will not. I have many reasons for this, but to explain the main one, we must do some history.

The year is 1883, the place, a salon in a Gentleman's Club in the heart of Victorian London. We come to overhear a conversation between two distinguished gentlemen enjoying their brandy and cigars. Names have been abbreviated for clarity and discretionary sakes:

"Phineas, I must simply share with you a bit of information that my dearest Lady W. imparted to me over a plate of boiled ham and minced pies.", the affable yet hunchbacked Lord W. stated through a puff of acrid cigar smoke.

"Ah! I have always admired her keen insights and deft comment, please, do tell!", Phineas puffed back in kind.

"Well, my dear fellow, it seems that I simply do not satisy my good Lady in the bedroom, what what?" The slightly less affable Lord W reported.

"You don't say", Phineas mused, "and, um...does that seem to be a problem?"

Lord W. paused for a moment in thought, not having considerd this angle before. "Well, I dare say yes, my good man, primarily becasue not only am I not satisfying my Dearest Lady, but apparently, not many men are successful at this task at all!"

"Good gracious!", Phineas remarked and being an industrious man, knew there must be a solution, "We must away to the laboratory immediately."

And the rest, as we all know from common knowledge is how the first vibrator came into being. The Lord W. Phineas "Vibrolator" was immensely popular in its design, but being a coal fired, steam driven brass and iron monstrosity, was not very affordable or discrete. In the mid fifties, it was said that the technology required to run even the simplest clitoral oscillation devices required an entire office floor of card punching machines! We really have come a long way, baby.

So what have we learned? That's right. We men realized that try as we may, and no matter how skilled an accomplished a lover we may be, we are not always going to have you grabbing the bedsheets and waking up the neighbor's dogs all the time. We do our best, but honestly, we just can't do it.

But being the innovative problem solving beasts that we are, what have we done? We have created an entire industry focused around the creation, production and distribution of devices specifically designed and crafted, dare I say perfected over time to give women pleasure. If you haven't taken advantage of all of our hard work over the decades in this field, you really only have yourself to blame. Women, I implore you, men, I urge you, get thee hence to the Naughty Store (tm) and procure one of these amazing devices immediately.

Ah, my gentlemen. I sense a bit of reservation. No ye this: No matter what happens, a vibrator will never replace an actual man for your average heterosexual lass. As amazing as the senstions are, no matter how multiplee the climaxi occur, she will always prefer to feel your weight, your cuddling (and you better frickin' cuddle!) and your warm body when all is said and done. Do not feel jealous or threatened by the idea of the Lord W. Phineas in your bedroom.

I submit now the Official RobbyBlog Vibrator Buying Guide to help you through the forest of pliant marital aids.

1. Do some research. This Internets thing is amazing, and you can browse away in the comfort of your own home for the toy that is right for you. There are a million different varieties, colours, shapes, materials (I prefer the "jelly") and styles. Get a big glass of wine, take a deep breath, and take the plunge.

2. Do NOT buy a dildo. This is very important. Since you are going to go through all of the potentially embarassing hurdles to get yourself a sex a sex toy, you'd best get one that vibrates. A dildo is like a cold, lifeless version of a man that you have to thrust yourself. Trust me on this one, you want the vibration. Something with a nice variable speed control is optimal. You can always turn a vibrator off, if you want to, but you can never turn a dildo "on".

3. Prepare to spend some money. You wouldn't skimp on any other appliance in your house, why go cheap on your sex toys? Expect to pay between $25 and $40 for your first few vibrators, and then once you narrow your focus and understand what you are truly looking for in a sex toy, expect to spend between $35 and $60. A good vibrator will be a joy to you and yours for many months, to possibly many years. You wouldn't let just any bozo all up in your chicken, so why would you settle for a bargain bin buzz?

4. Size DOES matter! And not the way you think. Many sex shops or online stores have a wide range of toys from the extremely petite to the novelty funny gift of massive proportions. I would recommend you think honestly about the size of a decent penis, and go a smidge larger or longer. Guys, don't fade out on me now....I promise, its okay. If you are still nervous and you are buying this for your significant other, you can go ahead and get one that is slighty smaller than you are. You can always go bigger once you get comfortable. I say longer, because remember that you are going to be trying to hold this thing in your hand while you fulfill its design intent, so if you buy some little pocket rocket or 5" thing, its going to be difficult to hang onto.

5. Waterproof!!! I cannot stress this feature enough. Not only does this make cleanup a snap, but also allows for use in the tub. This will typically mean that you will be shopping for a model that is self contained, and without a remote or a cord. I find cords to be distracting regardless, and this argument helps spread my personal bias even further.

6. Go to a Bricks and Mortar Store. If you can, and if your store is cool like mine, you will be amazed at how helpful this can be. My store will take a selection out of the package, load it up with batteries, and allow me to compare features. Also, as amazing as the Internets are, there is nothing like seeing the real McCoy right there. We all know that sometimes the difference between comfort and pleasure can be less than a few millimeters, so seeing and touching is believing.

7. Have Fun! This is the most important thing. Have a good time selecting, dicussing, and buying your new sex toy, Give it a nickname, joke around about it. Laugh, laugh laugh! trust me, after you get started with your new purchase, you won't have much breath left for laughter!

I am sure there is other advice that I can give, but you get the idea. The last point that I would like to make about this is: YOU ARE NOT A PERV. No matter what your upbringing or religion or society tells you, you can hold your head up high and get yourself a sex toy without shame. I hereby write you a Cosmic Permission Slip authorizing you to procure and operate the above and often mentioned machinery. If you are still having a hard time, let me know, and I will buy one for you.

Ladies, (men?) Treat yourself well. Be photographed as a Goddess, and be selfish enough about your pleasure to take full and compleat advantage of the pleasure industry and all it has to offer. If not for you, if not for me, please, please do it for the memory of Lord W Phineas.