Well, I guess I’ve been a bad girl.

… a very bad girl!  Because even Lyndee came looking for me.  And OMG!  The emails waiting for me this a.m. 

Sorry I’ve been away for a while.  Alas!  Life happens and it just sometimes kicks your ass.  As it just did mine.  A family member was in the hospital (all is well now), a college friend attempted suicide (she’s okay now and getting help), and I’d volunteered to do some fun raising for a cause near and dear to my heart.  Concurrently, my PC was having more issues than I cared to deal with.  It all hit at once … and I just needed time to regroup.  Which for me, since I spend sooo much time at this PC, meant getting totally away from it.  And so I did.  I wasn’t anywhere near this blog or my email.  I did take some calls here and there, but mostly I was MIA

Which …

Brings up the occasional happenstance of PHONE SEX BURNOUT.  Not a particularly popular topic when reading Phone Sex Blogs.  Because we’re all Goddesses, dontcha know?  And we never have anything close to "real life" happening around us.  We’re too busy being perfect, beautiful, sexy and always in THE MOOD.  Ummmm.  Sure. 

Anyway, for the rest of you:  Yeah, it happens.  And when life throws you a bunch of curve balls all at once, well … what’s a girl to do?  You do what I did and have done and will continue to do:  You take a break and incorporate some personalized TLC into your life.   Which, come to think of it, can be rather Goddess-like, when that TLC consists of not only some quiet reading time, but a trip to the day spa and nail salon.  And some shoe shopping.  There just has to be shoe shopping in any female’s emotional rehabilitation.  Right?

In all seriousness, I do think it makes sense to take a break now and then.  Those of you who know me well, know I am really into health — emotional, physical and spiritual.  I take a shitload of vitamins and herbs, exercise regularly and struggle with my spiritual fuck-ups daily.  The simple and bottom line is balance.  An easy concept, but lots of work to pull off when you tend to be a bit obsessive and hyper-active, as I am.  Yes I am.  I know it, I own it.  It is what makes some of you love me, and it is what wears me down at times.

My callers should be happy that I take that break when I need it.  After all, if I’m not with you one hundred percent, why should I be taking your money?  It’s not fair to you.  In fact, I’d go so far as to say that it’s downright unethical.  When I’m with you, you deserve all of me.  You deserve my undivided attention, my passion for your particular fantasy, and my commitment to making that fantasy absolutely glitter for you.  It’s what I strive to do each and every time.  If I’m not up to my own standards, then I shouldn’t be taking your calls.

You know, occasionally, a guy will say to  me, "I wish my girlfriend were more like you," and I always jump to the defense of his wife.  It isn’t her job to be a Goddess.  It is so unfair to compare the woman you love with the fantasy of me or any other Phone Sex Operator, be we Goddesses, MILFs, Barely Legal Teens or whatever.  In fact, many of us are all of those and more; it just depends on where and how you find us.  This is for fun.  Don’t you dare mix it up with your real life and the real women in your life.

The bottom line is that I am a real girl in my everyday life … the girl next door.  I am a sister, a daughter, a friend, even a girlfriend by day and a Goddess by night.  Or sometimes vice verse, but you get the picture.  So the girl next door took some time off to be there for the people I love and who needed me.  But I’m here.  Yup, right where you expected to find me.

Oh, and I’m back in Goddess mode … so don’t fuck with me.

Or else!

xo, Angela

_____________

FYI … I will be working Saturday and Sunday.  Today I’ve got to go to the gym and hit the beauty salon.  Then it’s dinner and a show … a girl’s night out with a good friend.  You can bet I’ll be having steak tonight, yeah baby!

ALSO … I am messing around with Twitter and may be putting it up here at my blog so you can follow me a bit closer and know when I’m available for calls.  Let me play with it a bit more and we’ll see how it goes.

ONE MORE THING … Regarding all the emails in my inbox:  I just have too much to do today, but will get with you tomorrow.  I promise!  So hang tight.

You’re Beautiful

by Simon Armitage

You’re beautiful because you’re classically trained.
I’m ugly because I associate piano wire with strangulation.

You’re beautiful because you stop to read the cards in
newsagents’ windows about lost cats and missing dogs.
I’m ugly because of what I did to that jellyfish with a lolly
stick and a big stone.

You’re beautiful because for you, politeness is instinctive, not
a marketing campaign.
I’m ugly because desperation is impossible to hide.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

You’re beautiful because you believe in coincidence and the
power of thought.
I’m ugly because I proved God to be a mathematical
impossibility.

You’re beautiful because you prefer home-made soup to the
packet stuff.
I’m ugly because once, at a dinner party, I defended the
aristocracy and wasn’t even drunk.

You’re beautiful because you can’t work the remote control.
I’m ugly because of satellite television and twenty-four-hour
rolling news.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

You’re beautiful because you cry at weddings as well as
funerals.
I’m ugly because I think of children as another species from
a different world.

You’re beautiful because you look great in any colour
including red.
I’m ugly because I think shopping is strictly for the
acquisition of material goods.

You’re beautiful because when you were born, undiscovered
planets lined up to peep over the rim of your cradle and lay
gifts of gravity and light at your miniature feet.
I’m ugly for saying "love at first sight" is another form of
mistaken identity, and that the most human of all responses
is to gloat.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

You’re beautiful because you’ve never seen the inside of a
car-wash.
I’m ugly because I always ask for a receipt.

You’re beautiful for sending a box of shoes to the third
world.
I’m ugly because I remember the telephone numbers of
ex-girlfriends and the year Schubert was born.

You’re beautiful because you sponsored a parrot in a zoo.
I’m ugly because when I sigh it’s like the slow collapse of a
circus tent.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

You’re beautiful because you can point at a man in a uniform
and laugh.
I’m ugly because I was a police informer in a previous life.

You’re beautiful because you drink a litre of water and eat
three pieces of fruit a day.
I’m ugly for taking the line that a meal without meat is a
beautiful woman with one eye.

You’re beautiful because you don’t see love as a competition
and you know how to lose.
I’m ugly because I kissed the FA Cup then held it up to the
crowd.

You’re beautiful because of a single buttercup in the top
buttonhole of your cardigan.
I’m ugly because I said the World’s Strongest Woman was a
muscleman in a dress.

You’re beautiful because you couldn’t live in a lighthouse.
I’m ugly for making hand-shadows in front of the giant bulb,
so when they look up, the captains of vessels in distress see
the ears of a rabbit, or the eye of a fox, or the legs of a
galloping black horse.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

_____________________________

I’ve been reading a lot of interesting poetry lately, in fact on a daily basis, because it’s Poetry Month and I’m on the Knopf -Doubleday mailing list for the daily email.  I’m still trying to figure out what the antiphonal repeating chorus is about, but still … it’s a great poem.   I can almost hear the man’s (husband’s?) whine in every verse as he  describes their differences.  Or he could just be a caller describing his relationship with his Phone Sex Princess/Goddess/Mistress.  Either way, it works.  It’s that Petrarchian thing again.

Do make a point to visit the poet’s website, where there is some interesting video.   Sir Gawain and the Green Knight anyone?

_____________________________

Phone Sex Goddess of the Day

The divinely dangerous Miss Lauren of Lauren Rules just might be the woman who finally breaks you.  A voluptuous blonde who excels in training, using and abusing the male animal, Mistress Lauren is a force to be reckoned with.  If you’ve been seeking a powerful and confident Mistress — and feel you haven’t yet quite met your match — then you simply must call this intoxicating and hypnotic beauty.  While you still have possession of your own balls (because She WILL soon own them) visit LAUREN RULES.  And don’t forget THE BLOG, which will absolutely make you weak in the knees.

_____________________________

Phone Sex Advice of the Day

Manners count.  It’s that simple and that important.  PSOs are not any different than the women you meet in your everyday life.  You might even have a female friend that is a PSO and you don’t even know it.  Would you want her to see you acting that way?  We won’t (unless you called an idiot PSO) judge you by your kink.  But we will judge you by your politesse or lack thereof.  It’s human nature; and we are, after all human.  Just like you.  Which is exactly the point.

xo, Angela

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

Pamela Redmond Satran

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
enough money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own,
even if she never wants to or needs to….

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
something
perfect to wear if the employer,
or date of her dreams
wants to see her in an hour…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
a youth she’s content to leave behind …

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
a past juicy
enough that she’s looking forward to
retelling it in her
old age …

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra …

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
one friend who
always makes her laugh.. and one who lets her cry…

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
a good piece
of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her
family …

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …
eight
matching plates, wine glasses with stems,
and a recipe for
a meal,
that will make her guests feel honored …

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .
a feeling of
control over her destiny …

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW …
how to fall in love without losing herself …

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW …
how to quit
a job,
break up with a lover,
and confront a friend
without;
ruining the friendship …

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW …
when to try harder… and WHEN TO WALK
AWAY…

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW …
that she can’t change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents …

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW …
that her
childhood may not have been perfect … but it’s over …

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
what she
would and wouldn’t do for love or more …

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW….
how to live
alone … even if she doesn’t like it …

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW …
whom she can trust,
whom she can’t,
and why she shouldn’t take it personally …

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW …
where to
go ….
be it to her best friend’s kitchen table..
or a
charming Inn in the woods …
when her soul needs
soothing …

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW …
What she can and can’t accomplish in a day …
a month … and a year …

***

Well, this one was a little rough to get formatted properly … and I still might not have it all in place.  Despite what might not be totally kosher (as in "originally written"), I worked hard on getting it to fit and make sense, so enjoy as is.  The backstory is that my sister sent me this, subject line:  Best Maya Angelou Poem Ever!  And I simply adored it, being the girly-woman I am.

Yet, something seemed kinda-sorta funny about this.  You see, like most women, I’m a huge Maya Angelou fan.  And while I don’t know all of her work, I certainly know the important stuff — so why hadn’t I ever heard of this poem?  Hmmm.  Time for some googling.  Which brought up this at the Snopes Site.  The REAL Poetess behind this beautiful poem is Pamela Redmond Satran, who happens to have an awesome website where you can buy her books.  Buy her books for me, because I’m totally a Book Bitch and I will read them and tell you all about them.  See how nice I am?

***

Which reminds me:

Best Book I’ve Read This Year:  The Best American Non-Required Reading 2008. 

Which is edited by Dave Eggers (A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius) whom I adore and includes an introduction by Judy Blume (Otherwise Known As Sheila the Great) whom I immensely respect (never got into girly-cutesy fiction even as an adolescent/preteen).  It’s also an attractive book  — it just looks damnably good on the shelf — the cover artwork being that of graffiti artist Barry McGee (check him out here and here).

And I really, really, really wouldn’t mind having 2007, 2006 and 2005.  There’s more … but that would pretty awesome and keep me damn happy for right now.

Worst Book I’ve Read This Year That  I Thought  Would Be The Best Book I’ve Read This Year:  Wicked

Oh-me-oh-my!  I sooo wanted to love this book; from which the Broadway Musical was adapted.  Since hearing this song, I’ve been wanting to see the show and will be seeing it this fall, if all goes as planned.   As far as the book goes, I found the characters uninteresting, the pacing tedious and the convoluted storyline nerve-wracking. Considering the nominations and awards the show has garnered, the same is not true of the musical, so I’m as enthuastic as ever.  Maybe even more so, now that I am curious as to how the writers fixed/transformed the original story.

And:

Thanks to the guys who sent me these books for Christmas, because they are exactly what I would have eventually bought for myself.  You know me well and treat me even better than well, and I adore you for it.

______________________________________________

Phone Sex Goddess of the Day: 

Bella Daisy who keeps a most interesting journal, which you can read right here.  If you like fiesty Italian Princess types, Bella’s your girl.  She’s cute as a button and extremely sexy.  But be forwarned:  she is a woman in control and you will submit!  Call Bella now!

______________________________________________

Phone Sex Quote of the Day:

I tried phone sex once, but the holes were too small.

______________________________________________

And, yup, I’ve obviously been a bit lax in blogging recently.  But do forgive me, because life has been outrageously busy and I have a new personal trainer who is a total bitch — keeping me uber busy, tired and aching.  But I’m looking good and feeling great.  So we can’t really fault either her or me.   Now, can we?

xo, Angela

So I finally saw my doctor Monday.  I wasn’t getting better — could barely talk, kinda-sorta sounded like Lauren Bacall.  And while some of you would find this incredibly sexy, most wouldn’t — thus, still not doing regular calls.  Anyway, I sounded so very bad when I called in the a.m., that the receptionist squeezed me in for an appointment that very day. 

So a few hours later I’m sitting up on that little table while the doc does her thing and gives me the dope.  Seems there’s a "bug" going around that just "holds on forever," and being viral in cause, it doesn’t respond to antibiotics.  But since I’d had this for two plus weeks, she decided I might have a secondary infection, compounded by stressed vocal cords from the exuberant coughing.  So she prescribed doxycycline hyclate and prednisone respectively.  I’m into the middle of my third day and things do seem to be clearing up.

In the meantime, when I’ve been feeling "up to it," I’ve taken a few short calls.  Those would be with guys who know I’ve been pretty sick and just want to kinda-sorta talk.  And don’t even want a kinky phone sex experience.  Imagine that!. 

Sweet Mr. Nerd would be one of those guys.  Being the sweet man he is, he indulged and coddled and commiserated — while I hacked and screeched and whined and pouted.  But, alas, all good things must come to and end.  And I suspect that in this case it was none too soon for Mr. Nerd.  So we’re winding down and he asks. "So what are your plans this week, dear Angela?"  I tell him that not much is going on except me drinking lots of fluids, eating even more chicken soup (thanks for the tidings and counsel, LUSCIOUS ONE) and religiously hunching over my  Vicks Personal Steam Inhaler.  Which I usually do while watching TV (very scary … this lowest common denominator ruling the airwaves).  Which reminds me … oh, and that I’m looking forward to seeing Sarah Palin interviewed on Larry King.

Ever benign and tender with my feelings, Mr. Nerd doesn’t tell me that it pains him to find the daily routine of his Phone Sex Goddess has been reduced to the hum drum.  He doesn’t tell me it saddens his heart (and perhaps softens his cock) that — forced by the necessity of illness — the highlight of my week just might be watching CNN. 

But he also happens to be a man of exceptional wit. 

So, without missing a beat, with nary a millisecond of hesitation, he answers (with tongue placed firmly in cheek): 

Goshhhh.  I hope she’s wearing leather.

Which just tickled my funny bone.  Because, between you and me, Mr. Nerd could care less what a gal is wearing.  He needs no paraphernelia, no idee fixes — leather, feathers, fishnet or otherwise — to be extremely hot and always sexy.   Thanks, Mr. Nerd, for being a stand up guy.  And standing by.  I owe you.

xo, Angela

… oh, and I may be able to work tomorrow.  Not sure yet, but I am starting to feel better and sound better.  So maybe … just maybe.