The fascination with tits?

There's an interesting phenomenon out there. People touch breasts. Both men an women. In public. Uninvited. The just reach out and touch. It doesn't offend me, but it's odd.

Last night, a group met at a local sports bar just to hang out. As soon as my friend and I walked in, one guy commented on being surrounded by great boobs. At least he didn't touch them. Yet.

A few minutes later, he reached out and touched one woman's breast. Okay, he touched it with a phone and not directly with his fingers. She just laughed. I often see guys touching her tits and she never seems to mind. I don't get it.

The guy came back to the table between turns playing pool. Each time he put a smear of blue chalk on all of the girls' chests. The first girl was completely caught off guard, then he escaped too fast for her to give him the reaction he deserved. He tried it with me, but I expected it and did a Wonder Women X across the chest to protect myself.

"You don't want some too?" he asked.

"No. Not really into Smurf cleavage."

Thanks though.

Then there's the girls touching each other's boobs. I think it's simply appreciation for nice ones. A little lesbian-like perhaps, but girls do it a lot. Natural boobs. Fake boobs. Touch. Squeeze. They're all fair game and part of the hello-you-look-beautiful-tonight ritual.

Is this a cultural thing in my area or is this a worldwide thing?

Love to the single girls,
Addison  

Where did my give-a-shit go?

I've never been that wrapped up in what other people think. Over the last week, I figured out I really don't give a shit. Not at all.

I'll wear what I want, go out with who I please and have the friends I like. My friends look at me and laugh then say, "I'll just live vicariously through you." And that's okay.

Some people aren't comfortable with me. I don't know if it's my confidence - or maybe that lack of give-a-shit coming through - but I'm comfortable with that too. Or maybe they just don't like me, and that's cool too. Others sometimes try to rattle me. They get all uptight and try to control, but I don't let them. Calmness and restraint is the secret. Very rarely do you see a calm person who isn't in control.

I admit, I sill have a very weak area. It's with real romantic relationships that need BFF approval. I suck at picking the right guys. I know I need help, and I'll get it when the time comes. I do care what my very best friends think.

But that time certainly isn't now.

I know I'm the toughest one to please, so if I'm happy with myself, all is good.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Grown-up crushes

When I first went out for my morning run, I ran into a man I've known from the neighborhood for about the last year. He walks his dog about the time I jog.

"Are you just starting or finishing?" he asked.

"Starting," I answered. "That's why I'm not dripping. It's hot out here already."

He agreed.

"Guess we'd better get this show on the road," I said.

"You look beautiful as always," he said. "I guess you know I have a crush on you."

I leaned down and petted his dog. "Have a good walk."

What do you say to that? I was just putting my ear buds in so perhaps he thinks I didn't hear him. I did very clearly.

There's a very fine line between sweet and a little creepy when it comes to grown-up crushes. He seems to be a very nice man and just not my type. But the adoring looks and flattering comments have been going on for a year now. It seems especially odd when I see him during my run - perspiration-stained baseball cap, sweaty socks, no makeup and just-rolled-out-of-bed ponytail.

This is the second time in the past week I've heard about a grown-up crush. The first time was when a man who's been my lover for a while asked me what I was talking about with a particular woman. When I asked him why, he said she has a crush on him. I know what that means - he's fucking her. I've heard the same before. That reminds me, I need to make sure he doesn't tell others that I have a crush on him. After three-and-a-half years, I think we're beyond crush stage. And I'm not the crush type.

A grown-up crush doesn't mean you or the other person has to act on it. Those innocent crushes can turn into creepy fast.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Fabulous in the 1950's and even more today

There's no better place in the U.S. to buy vintage clothing than LA. Every time I'm there, visiting American Rag, my favorite store, is a must.

A year ago I bought five dresses - three from the 1950's and two from the '60's. I have worn and adore them all. They're beautiful, well made and inexpensive. Most have needed a little tailoring that leaves them fitting like they were made for me. And no one will ever show up wearing the same dress.

This year I found one more 1950's dress - this rich red damask satin that I can't wait to have altered down to my size.

There was also a gorgeous dress I bought for my friend who was watching Lucy while I was away. I won't describe it until I give it to her. That would totally spoil the surprise (so come back in a couple of days and I'll add a pic).


Then I found a real treasure. Another friend had asked me to check out their vintage jewelry collection. She likes vintage turquoise, but their collection was only the big plastic 1970's-style necklaces and bangles.

Nestled in the orange, blue and white chunky jewelry was this early 1950's evening bag by Pierre Cardin. Its ecru patent leather with the most exquisite pewter and bronze beading made me have to have it - even though it cost well over $200. The bag looks almost brand new and it's likely about sixty years old.

Just imagine the smartly dress women who carried this beautiful bag one evening. I wonder where she went and who she was with. I hope she was a single girl who bought this amazing accessory to accent a new outfit for some special occasion. And I hope the people or person she was with was more special than the occasion.

Every single girl should splurge if she can.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Resolve

This has been a trying week on the relationship front, but one that resolved.

Neither of us changed, but we understand each other better. We know what it will take for this relationship to last another three-and-a-half years or more.

I know he'll never be a monogamist. I also know he sometimes retreats - doesn't respond to calls or texts. Neither is personal. It's just the way he is, and I accept it. He knows I have to be treated with respect. He has to communicate with me - honestly - for this to work. He also knows we have to see each other every few months or we start to become strangers. We're half a country apart, but it never stopped us from meeting up before. None of these things are new to either of us, we just needed a good reminder since we've both been through so much over the last year.

Since I met him, I thought I had a bit of an addiction to him - his bohemian personality, swag and his abilities as a lover. Now I think that addiction may go both ways. Our relationship is in a new place. A place based on respect for each other and on endless passion for raw, hot sex. It's simple. We care about each other and feel good when we're together.

We all deserve to be happy, and I am.

Love to the single girls,
Addison