TMI Tuesday

1. What lines have you used to let someone down gently?

It's not you, it's me.
I'm just not in the right place for this right now.
You deserve more than I can give you.

2. If I gave you $10K to waste, what would you buy?

Drugs! Okay, not really. I would take my family to Disney World for a few days. That's all that $10k will last there.

3. If I gave you $10K, but you had to spend it all on someone else, what would you buy?

A better car for my mom. (She can afford one, she just won't actually go out and buy one. She's a pain in the ass that way. Would rather bitch about the one has she has than go get another one.)

4. If your partner brought a double dildo to bed, you'd be ____________?

Excited beyond belief and full of ideas of things to do.

5. What sounds do you make during sex?

Moans, sighs, grunts, giggles, squeals, dirty talk - you name a sound, I've probably made it. But I can be totally quiet too, if the situation requires.

Bonus (as in optional): Tell your worst break up story.

First, refer to last week's truth or dare answer - the second episode involving my then-boyfriend E. As you might imagine, E was a bit bewildered and somewhat peeved the next morning. I explained to him that I had planned to break up with him, but that wasn't exactly how I planned to do it. Oops. He was upset, but seemed okay with it. I didn't think much about it for the next week or so. Then the letters started. Weird letters, arriving every day, sometimes more than one a day. Some written on fast-food bags, some on regular paper, some were cards, including a sympathy card offering condolences on my impending death. In some of the letters he claimed to love me, in others he declared his intense hatred for me and his goal to see me suffer for hurting him. He sent letters describing in excrutiating detail how he would torture and dismember me alive. He harassed my parents, including driving a truck with a plow to their house and using it to move all the gravel from the lower part of their driveway into the road, creating a 2.5 foot high pile all the way across the road obstructing traffic. (My parents had the lower part of the driveway paved soon after, so that was never a problem again.) He began showing up at bars in my college town on the weekends (2 hours from his home, 3 hours from his college) and he would follow me if I left and went somewhere else. Then he started showing up during the week too, when he should have been at his own school. All the while, the strange and threatening letters continued, along with bizarre phone calls in the middle of the night. Eventually legal and mental health authorities became involved and he was prohibited from contact with me or my family. Things were quiet for two years, then I learned that he actually transferred to my university and was taking several of the same classes I was taking. I started getting letters describing what I wore each day in class, where I sat, where I went after class, who I talked to in and outside of those classes, etc. The letters were typed and unsigned, but I recognized the style. He was allowed to stay at the university, but had to attend therapy sessions, stay away from me, and an academic counselor would walk him through registration each term (we physically registered in a big pool using punch cards, way back when) and ensure that he did not register for classes in which I was already enrolled. If he enrolled before me, I could find out if he had registered for a class to either avoid it or have him bumped if I needed the class to graduate since I was a senior, he transferred in as a sophmore. (I never exercised the latter option.) Fortunately, he had not been allowed to enroll in my residential college within the larger university, so he couldn't take classes in my major.

There was also the guy that I dumped in a public and cruel way (he really, really deserved it) and 6 months later he violently raped me. But I don't want to get into those details right now. Within 2 years he was dead and I was not exactly sad to hear the news.