Brandon,

I'm stuck on this. You need to LET ME GO or LOVE ME FOR REAL. Seriously, I'm sick of the "no strings attached deal". You're the only person I've clicked with on something more than football. You makes me laugh. We can talk about anything and seem to finish each other's sentences. We make each other feel important, and we make each other happy. 
Why would you turn away from something like this? Why would you go so far, trip me up, and then say, "I don't want to get involved in anything deep right now..." 
Why, Brandon? Do you like having a girl hanging on your every word, without having to call her girlfriend?
It's breaking my heart, because you KNOW what you're going to me, and you KNOW I love you. 
I just want the truth. Are you ever going to let this go somewhere, or do I need to walk away?
TELL ME.

Love,

Me

 One thing I've noticed about my boyfriend is that he closes his eyes towards the end of sex, or oral sex.
I haven't really noticed if it's the whole time [generally I don't really tend to stare at his face during either act] but I do the occasional glance upwards, and he seems to almost always have his eyes closed towards the end [before he climaxes].

I assume it's because he's concentrating, etc. but we have all heard that men are very visual creatures--wouldn't he want to keep his eyes open 100% of the time? Do you think he's thinking about someone else? I mean we all think about someone else from one time to another, BUT not all the time. Does your partner do this?

Thanks for the answers:)

PENDANT PRODUCTIONS PROUDLY PRESENTS:

Original art by Carl Glassmeyer for Pendant Productions

Episode 42 - "Gambles"

Holubiak gambles on Romulus' fate as an assassin poisons the peace process!

"Star Trek: Defiant" is a serialized, full-cast audio adventure with one new episode every month. Available for free download in .mp3 format, or as a Podcast!

Also avaliable - an audio commentary with the director and writer!

Now available exclusively at PendantAudio.com via the following links:

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http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=152719094

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( Find out what really matters... )

I'm moving to Italy but I still want to participate in the episode discussion posts as they happen in the US. How would I be able to accomplish this? People in Canada don't get Hulu so I doubt I'll be able to get it in Italy. One person said I would have to wait for weeks for the show to catch up/come on where the USA is currently. Others say I would have to rely on streams. I hate this idea because I frequently see so many complaints about streams going down. What to do?

Tags: online episodes

Dear Zach,
Or is it Zack? I really don't even know how you spell your name. We've not said 5 words to each other in our lives. And yet, I still feel guilty. Or maybe guilty isn't the right word. I guess I just want you to know that I know you exist. And I remember you. We met (and I use that word in the loosest way possible) in high school. Tenth grade psychology class. You sat a little behind and to the side of me. You were very very quiet. But very smart. I remember that. You were very smart and very quiet. You always wore khaki or navy slacks and a polo shirt. Clothes straight out of a school uniform store, even though our school never required uniforms. I used to see you walking home from school. I'm pretty sure you lived in those apartments next to the school- you know, the not-so-nice ones. After the class ended, we never spoke to each other again (not that we really spoke during class either). However, I started seeing you more and more. Mostly walking home from the library. You always had your CD player in your hand, with headphones on. Even in the era of iPods and cell phones with mp3 players, you still have an old school portable CD player. It's clear how much you love your music. You'll be walking down the sidewalk head banging, or singing along. You know people make fun of you for it and laugh at you but you don't give a damn. Please know that I think it's awesome.

A couple years ago, when I was hanging out with a group of people who could have been known as "the assholes" collectively (and that would be a nice term) they started making fun of you. Making fun of the way you sang along to the music, the way you would stop in the middle of the sidewalk and shove your fist in the air during a particularly rousing song. They called you "walking boy" and sat around making fun of you for about ten minutes. Finally I had heard enough. "He has a name" I told them. They looked at me, shocked. Shocked that I would interrupt their fun, shocked that you were actually a person not just a personality. "He has a name. It's Zach. And he's probably smarter than all of you put together." I left after that. And rarely ever hung out with them again.

I see you often now. You got a job at the grocery store near my apartment. I go in there and you're almost always there. Or I'll see you walking, on your way to work or on your way home from the library. Every single time I see you, I want to go up to you and say hi. Or offer you a ride to where ever it is you're going. I know you don't remember me, you've glanced at me before and there was no spark of recognition in your eyes. Tenth grade was a long time ago, and I've changed a lot since then. But I just want you to know that I remember you. I remember how quiet and smart you were, how shy you probably still are.

I don't love you, I don't pine for you, I don't even know if I want to be friends with you. But I do want you to know I remember you. And no matter what anyone else says, I think you're pretty fucking awesome.

I hope you become something amazing one day,
.me.

Thank you for breaking me for life, rubbing it in my face, then trying to be my friend....*then*..after I caught you cheating with the same ass who had a wife and kids and is old enough to be your dad.....I catch on you're seeing him again, so I asked you if you were Sarai...the word is now off his profile page....you said you didnt know what it meant. It is or was his name for you as you now openly can submit to him.
Well congrats. You got exactly what you wanted. You wanted Sam, you got him.
You wanted freedom to do as you wished, you got it.
I can be honest here because some things you can't say when you care about someone.
I'll never have a relationship or friendship with you ever again because I cant trust you... not after you broke and killed everything I was while you were playing and wanting Sam.
I'll be civil. I'll be friends.
But I'll have the instincts to torture to death that which he loves most....so I won't be coming to the tea parties.
Oddly, apparently I'm not the only person who thinks he gives off the pedophile vibe.
If you ever cared for me...you'd leave me alone.
You say you do.
You're so skilled at lying I can't believe anything so I believe nothing.
I'll walk.
I learned a great deal.
I learned hate.
I learned to appreciate those who do seem to care.
Thank you for repeating my wife's pattern.
You did a Mim after all.
What hurts the worst is I have someone to love and cannot truly, thanks to you and Sam, but that's ok.
I'm the one responsible in the end, not you.
May Karma greatly bless you and may I live to see it.

dear...you,
i feel like while this drags on and on, a never-ending cycle of looking away and awkward silences, you are swiftly becoming the story i can't bear to tell anymore. i feel resentful-but not so much because of anything you did. but because, out of all the millions of hearts walking this earth, i had to choose yours to be the one that ruined me. that streaked my sky like an earth-bound comet, whose sole purpose was the crash and burn in my atmosphere, blazing on its way down. leaving dents in my heart, scattering dust in my atmosphere so that it's hard to breathe without containing a part of you. and i can never tell you this. not simply because it'd be wrong to do so, but because i can never determine whether your looking away from me is indicative of indifference or constraint, like mine is. as i am painfully aware. 

but if i could tell you this, i would let you know that regardless of how much or how little we've spoken over recent years; regardless of criticism or candor or pretending everything's great; regardless of distance and time and other faces and other hearts that aren't yours...there's a little door to my heart. it's tucked in the back so no one will recognize it. but it's shaped like you. over time, i've boarded it up, covering it with chains and nails and signs saying, "please don't enter, i just might break." but the sight of you disarms me-chink by chink, nail by nail, to the point that there's no denying your entry should you try the knob. but i don't think you'd ever want that key. i don't think you ever really did, you just never actually told me so. and so here i'm hanging on to the vain hope that somewhere in time, you'll change your mind. but you won't. i know that. i need to tell the little girl inside me to stop holding her breath, or else she'll hurt herself. 

because i sit across the table from you now, and you are kind of cold and a little grumpy, but largely indifferent. not mean, just unenthused. there's no more laughing, there's no more well-wishing, there's no more hugs or long last looks to keep this thin little tether breathing between us anymore. you look at me from your place in the booth, sitting on the edge of the bench and careful not to put your legs too far under the table lest your feet bump mine-since when were we ever so afraid of a simple moment of human contact, when we used to share the most intimate sort? but there you sit, and you look at me from under your knit h&m hat  and see me fidgety and nervous, and must be thinking, "this is who she has always been. what a waste." but it wasn't always this way. you used to see hope and light and warmth when you'd look at me. and i don't garner that from you anymore. because this is simply who i am to other people; other people who don't know me and have never held me or held my heart. and while i wasn't looking, you became other people. and i hate it. i hate it more than you know. 

and so you are not my friend. you are no longer the person i will always love a little (though let's face it, that's not going anywhere), or the person who will always love me a little. you are-to be cliche-the one who got away. and there's no getting you back, on any singular level. and here is the part where i accept it. the end of any lingering anger or hurt or denial or any perceived claim to who you are as a person. i accept (i think) that things between us will never be the same- but what's the same, anyway?; what i mean is that we won't be. anything. period. i accept that while those days will always have a warm home in my mind and heart and occupy a small chunk of my soul for the long run, they are indeed over-at least as far as we ever knew them. and i hate it. but i accept it. and now i'm moving on.

in the meantime, in my heart i'll keep the idea that somewhere in the universe, on a planet identical to ours and oblivious to our existence, two people-one exactly like you, and one exactly like me-said totally different things, at different times, and made different decisions about how to love each other. and that somewhere, we're still together. even if it's not here, not now, not ever; and not that i'm ever cognizant of.

and for now, that's enough. because i'd rather live with that delusion than feel anymore the way you made me feel today. i wish i were a better, stronger person, but i can't keep trying anymore. i can't keep admitting my affection to you when for all i know you might feel the same, but damned if you ever let me know. and meanwhile, while it hurts to look at you, it hurts to look at a world that is void of your face. and i can't make that choice.

and damned if i ever tell you this.

sincerely,
eileen.

Dear Roxanne,

We have been friends for about 10 years now. It almost didn't happen from the start. You are Christian and I am not. You tried to get me to convert. I even went to one of your 'revivals' and my ass stayed glued to the chair. The plays presented were ridiculous showing that only white men were worthy of heaven, not women, or people of color. Last time I checked you were a woman but that apparently doesn't cause you to question.
We came to the place where you said you could respect me but that you would still pray for me. I chose to believe that in the best of your world you wanted the best for me. I chose to not be insulted because of your choice to not respect my CHOICE to be Jewish. You believe that a guy who got nailed to some wood because he was a pain in the ass to the local bureaucrats and got himself dead this action forgives your being an asshat 2000 years later. Huh.

This past year you broke up with a friend of yours for the past 16 years. In part because her son knocked up a girl in High School. Not your values. We can't be honest and discuss your own daughters 'sex-ting' because you have chosen to NOT believe it. The past 2 months I felt that you were dropping me as a friend as well. You have been a good friend in as much as I can share and bounce ideas off of you, but I couldn't change your choices. So anyway I reached out once again and we seem be doing ok, not 100% but I'm able to let lots of water under my bridge.

But today when speaking with your X friend, who is still very hurt I learned that you have actually been praying against my most precious dreams to become a parent. You even prayed against our adopting. Is this your brand of Christianity, to pray for children to remain in orphanages rather than be reared as a Jew? Your belief is that God is so limited that only your club gets the benefits. Gotta say that amazing arrogance makes you look like an idiot.

I'm not going to share what I have learned about you, with you. I will just view you as a very handicapped being. In the years ahead you will need my help, I most likely will make myself available because that is who I am. However I just don't believe I will be turning to you for emotional support, your insincerity and lies make it impossible. I don't have any value in your value system.

Dear anyone who will listen,
For the first time in a couple of months I actually want to talk to somebody, and for the first time in a couple of months there seems to be nobody to talk to. My mind is so boggled down with everything, I don't even know where to begin I just have to get it out. I'm scared of moving into this apartment, not with myself but with Liz. The closer we get to it the more I think her and I won't make good roommates, I'm afraid she is going to be unreliable and have people I don't like over all the time. I'm afraid I'm going to be lonelier after we move in than I am now.

Also, what the heck is up with all these guys from my past suddenly reappearing in my life. Yes I liked you 6 months to a 1 year ago, no I don't anymore, I have a life I've moved on you really aren't that amazing anyways. If I was so great why didn't you take your chance with me when you had it? Your loss don't make me feel guilty creep!

I hate that time isn't infinite, I have so many freaking hobbies but between having a job and being in ministry its either sleep or don't and do everything else. Even if I had the time I would still have the same problem I do now, I want to do too much and I can't just completely devote myself to one thing and be good at it. Instead I do like a hundred different things, paint, write poetry/lyrics, play/'write music, crochet, sew, drama, sports, there is no way I will ever be good at one of those things if I continue to do all of them. I can't just pick one though, or even two, as a matter of fact I can't seem to want to stop doing any of them. But I loathe mediocrity, I have to devote myself to something so I can perfect that skill among the others.

Among that frustration and others, I am continually feeling fatter and fatter every day, the more I work out, the more I don't eat, the fatter I feel. And ugly how could I forget how ugly I am becoming? Nothing seems to help, I find a new flaw every time I look at myself, sometimes I don't even have to look at myself and I still discover them. What would it feel like to beautiful, if I was would I still hate myself? Sadly I will never know, beauty doesn't appear you either have it or you don't, and I simply don't!

signed this mediocre ugly girl

Hi there! I was just wondering of someone could recommend a vibrating cock ring. I looked through the memories but what I could find was really just people asking what one was.

I guess the only thing I should mention that may make a difference is that my BF is a bit smaller than average I think (I haven't actually measured it, but I think it is). He MIGHT be right on average as far as length but as far as girth I'd guess it's about a 1 inch diameter (disclaimer: I am bad at guesstimating measurements. But it's about the diameter, though slightly smaller, of two of my fingers and when I measure that they're an inch), so I worry about buying something that will be too big and will make him feel bad.

Also, as I've seen they can be worn either way, something that doesn't have to go around the testicles may be best, as BF is already a bit skeptical about one around his penis and may not be comfortable with something that goes around the whole system. He's willing to try but wants something that can be worn either way, just in case. He also is not keen on anal stimulation (neither am I), though perineum stimulation is fine (though not necessary).

A quieter one would be best as well, as we live with housemates and our walls are really thin, and replaceable batteries would be ideal.

What I'm looking at right now are these:

Ring one

Ring two

Ring three

Ring four The glowing aspect of this one is a little weird, but eh. May make it more fun :P

Ring five

Does anyone have any experience with these? Or have any other cock rings that they would recommend?

Thank you very much for your help!