Greed

What if I just want it all? What if I want to have my cake, ice cream and whipped cream on the side? Life is all about compromises, they say. But why does it have to be? As long as I am clear in my communication, honest in my needs and desires, and sensitive in my approach, can't I have it my way and take the whole pot of gold?

We all know about the 7 deadly sins: Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Pride. My knees are already bloody raw from praying for forgiveness on Lust and Wrath...but what about Greed? Am I going to Hell 3 times?

The truth is, I want everything. That's right, I said it. I want absolutely everything.

My boss came into my office yesterday and told me he wanted me, and ONLY me, to handle this potentially large account...an account that has my name and co-worker's name all over it. Knowing the answer already, I asked him if she was coming to the meeting. "No", he said. "I just want you". I'm already drowning in social and corporate events for the month totaling about $100,000, so I am definitely not playing with my pussy under the desk. I almost felt bad for her but then quickly stopped bullshitting myself. I want to say I didn't stand up for her because I know if it were reverse, she wouldn't fight for me, as I've watched her take from me not so long ago. No, No. That wasn't the reason. I didn't fight for her because I want that reward all to myself and will take all the shit that comes with it, especially if it means helping me get to the next level. You see, I demand more...and dammit, I deserve it. My boss didn't GIVE me that opportunity, I busted my ass for it and I'm not compromising anything.
Am I a bitch? Yes. But like Laurence Fishburne's character told Ellen Barkin's character in Bad Company regarding the mentally challenged kids - - "I think of them as much as they think of me". We are not friends, so it is what it is. I don't smile, rub your back and take from your pocket. I smile, rub your back while I take from the vault that you missed while running your mouth. Yes, life is about being loving, kind, warm and friendly. But it's also about taking yours, because no one is going to GIVE you shit.

Now professional greed is easy...very straight forward. Love, on the other hand is complicated, sticky and messy. I crave them all...even the ones I'm not fucking or don't even know yet. If my ex-therapist was reading this, she'd book me a session quick. But the bitch was way too much money when in the end I knew I was going to be a bad girl anyway.
So, I take the man who wants to love me, even if I don't love him. Give me time though, it may happen. Is that selfish? More selfish of him since he knows I love someone else, don't you think? But I guess he's greedy too. Well, good for him.
I also take the man who takes care of me, massages my heart, mind and body. He knows how to keep me wanting more and more, and so much more. I lie about wanting all of him in any way, shape or form.
I mean really, I capture them all...trap all my love. I take all the hot flirts, suave players, nervous geeks, creative musicians, mama's boys, loners, mysterious romantics...all of them. And when I say take them, I mean take their admiration, their desire, their curiosity and wrap it around me like an electric blanket. Yes. Love me. Want me. I am greedy and won't apologize for it.

In the attempt of being a good girl, I researched the opposite of greed. Come to find out the flip side of greed is charity. Hmm, charity. I think I've given more than my share. No thanks.


-C

Free Milk

I'm weary of being an emotional whore...a soft squishy sponge. I find myself taking in all the goodness that looks and feels like love, soaking it up and then watching it seep through my pores. Wet and warm it is, but in reality, not so bueno. You see, when I ring out...there's nothing. Nothing left but a little moistness, which eventually becomes a stale mildewy scent in my mind. I'm quite exhausted of loving and obsessing over the fantasy. The craving of it is getting old, when deep down in my soul, I know that shit isn't happening. If it was going to happen, it would've played out already. So many reasons for it not to, but not one reason why it could. So enough is enough.

Love doesn't mean a damn thing when not watered or fed, stroked, appreciated or reciprocated.

So why put it first? Don't get me wrong...I love love. It's soft, sweet and so optimistic...even without the dangle of marriage. Because let's be real. Love, within itself, is truly a commitment anyway. Do I really need to promise God in front of all my family and friends that I'm going to never leave - when quite frankly, I'm not really sure? Well, that's another thought for another day.

The point is, I've decided to STOP being that squishy sponge... a seduced victim of the "yummy" these men call love, care, desire, need, lust...whatever sounds good to them.

"I care about you, baby".

No, you care about yourself and consistently display that lie into the mirror to make you feel better about drinking my milk for free. Well, no more free milk. You have to pay for it. And I don't necessarily mean with money, although I will take that. You have to give me the best of you. I need your top shelf self if you even want the opportunity to experience my love, care, desire, need or lust.

It's funny to me how some men think they are better than the others because their frosting is sweet, chocolate and smooth like I like it. While the competition may be coated with an old and hard sugar crusted frosting. Well, let me just tell you...A donut is a fucking donut. And it doesn't really matter which kind you are in the big scheme of things. If the end result is the same (which is me leaving the scene unfulfilled), then it's like a group of toy soldiers standing in front of me - not one distinction among any of them.

My new focus is simple. I am done with the lie...moving forward and seeking new opportunities to experience what I deserve...which is the best of the best. No more appeasing emotional strokes with whispers of, "You like that, baby. How's this? Is that enough?" No, it's not enough anymore.

I once told someone my pussy is priceless. The question is how much am I willing to accept to allow the right man to enjoy it. I was joking (well kinda). But, that is definitely true in regards to me as a lover and friend, the value of my time and how I'm going to treasure myself.

I'm going to miss the cookies I've been eating...so comforting and tasty at that moment. And I know my milk will be missed. But it's time to shelf it now and wait it out for a little bit of pay back.

-C

My Brit Ramble

The only thing predictable about him is his nightly phone call around the 10 o'clock hour. It's 9:36 PM now and I can guarantee I have about 20 minutes to finish this thought. His smooth baritone voice relaxes my mind...actually lulls me to sleep sometimes. He doesn't speak in sentences, but in poem sonnets....seductive, tantalizing, but not too naughty...only a step over traditional charming. And when he gets excited to express a feeling or tell a tale, he picks up the pace, his British accent and London lingo working overtime, forcing giggles out of me. It's like he's spinning me around with nothing but a a silk scarf ...a crazy powerful whirlwind I can't spin out of. But it's light, soft and sassy.

I'm not even going to lie...I'm smitten. When we met on the vineyard, I thought he needed directions or something. Hey, I hardly discriminate. I'm all about the tall, vanilla tan, blonde and blue eyed stallions, but they are not the gems I usually attract. He's different and that's what drew me in. I was curious to get the answer to why me? And answer he did. I talk back and speak my mind. I'm uninhibited without showing any skin. He sees what's in the glass jar, but is patiently waiting for me to tap the lid from the inside first - to let him open easy. OK, so the gifts don't hurt but it's not even all about the money. It's the freedom it allows him to have; it's his attention to detail, the lack of laziness and intoxicating confidence. That's what gets me. He listens to every word and then acts accordingly. How refreshing to talk to a man who is clear and focused and so sure of what he wants. And right now, he wants me. No excuses, no reasons to duck and dodge, no bullshit.

I just got off the phone with him. "I want to court you, have fun with you and see what happens. No pressure or stress, no rules or regulations", he says. Just asked if he could be fortunate enough to be close to me for as long as I enjoy his company. Ahhh, poetry, I tell you.

He wants to continue with Halloween weekend in NY. There's a costume party that he's been invited to and knows I will love his friends. I can't remember the last time I was in NY for trick or treat. And I guess that should be the title of the weekend. Am I being tricked or treated? My grandma always said, nothing is ever perfectly polished...there gotta be some bumps, scuffs and dings in his whip. But you know what, I have my seat belt on, so I'm just going to enjoy the ride and see where I get off.

-c