Isabelle and I went out for a walk last night because it was such a fantastic evening and right now any exercise is good exercise. We went to the bank and then ended up in Jean-Coutu (a pharmacy in case you aren't from Quebec). So, there i am, little miss ingenue (look it up) and totally unaware of WHY we are in the pharmacy…so i ask…and the answer is…to buy condoms.
so…i turn beet-red. i blush at the drop of a hat, so you shouldn't be surprised. i have never bought condoms…ever. in fact, condoms bother me on a number of levels, but this post isn't about me in the bedroom and my hang-ups. Anywho, we are standing there, both of us coming out of extremely long-term relationships, trying to decide what condoms you buy and how you decide, and what a given condom-type says about you as (a) a guy and (b) a girl. We came to the conclusion that a man who is an XL should definitely provide his own condoms. A girl cannot be expected to keep specialty sizes in her bathroom (haha. the image of condoms in my bathroom just popped into my head). We then had the BIG discussion about all the scented/flavour ones…and then the shapey ones.
The Trojan Twisted Pleasure Condoms scare me. Please read the write-up below which i took from an online pharmacy (the write-up wasn't as good at Trojancondoms.com).
Two spirals? am i though only person who thinks that sounds like some sort of French Revolution era torture device? and what is this desire to change the shape of what i, personally, consider a rather usefully shaped part of the male body? I would like to note that dildoes (is that spelt with an e) are not usually found with weird twists on the end, but rather replicate their replacement in great detail (another of my many google searches when bored and lonely). I don't get it. Sorry.
I did not buy anything…just for the record. Isa stuck with the "normal" kind. The blue pack. I thought it was a smart idea.
last night, after driving her home, i was confronted with how much the evening was similar to an evening about three years ago where Steve and i were having a horrible fight because i didn't believe he actually intended for us to go to Parc Safari the next day and we ended up taking me back to my house at 180 km/h on the 117 (60 km/h limit) and were going so fast that we out ran the cop car that was trying to catch us. it was a beautiful night. i had called him to tell him this and asked if he remembered. he did. i then wished him a good night. he asked if we would talk again…and i said yes, if he ever called and hung-up. if he doesn't want to be friends, that's that. i am not going to continue with this "only me putting an effort in bit," i had enough of that over the past six and a half years to last me a lifetime.