Skip to main content

Goodbye, for Now

On Tuesday I turned 27. I am officially in my late 20s, fast approaching my early 30s. There was a local story about a woman who biked, ran, and exercised her way into her 40s. She started running a day before she was to turn 40, and by midnight, she entered her 40s with an exhaustive bang. Meh.

I think I will fuck my way into my 30s, with a hopeful orgasm exactly at midnight. But that's three years away, so I can plan accordingly.

Anyway, I know it's been a long time since I've updated this thing, and there is a reason: no time. Life has been quite busy. Work is more hectic than ever, and I am often working late into the evening and bringing work home. I don't even have time for a decent dinner. Dinner tonight was canned fruit cocktail in gross heavy syrup (I couldn't find it in juice) eaten straight from the can and a  Diet 7-UP. I was grateful for the time to consume even that. But how I dream of spicy veggie lo mein and shrimp in lobster sauce.

At 3 a.m., I got up and decided to say goodbye to the readers of The Zaftig Chronicles. I'm not deleting the blog because I may return to it; maybe when things are less chaotic and less busy for me. I may not. But I have poured my soul out, bared my vulnerabilities, and given you a glimpse into my twisted mind. Thank you for caring. As a woman now in her late 20s, it's only fair that I provide closure for the things I have embarked upon and have not dedicated my all to. I don't want to leave the blog hanging like the proverbial chad, so let me just say this is the last post.

Again, thanks to everyone who came to read every day, even when no updates appeared. Thank you all for the emails and support. It's been a great experience.

Love has not found me yet, but he knows where I live. Ring me up.

-Zaftig

Popular posts from this blog

Broiling Alive

Some of you might not be aware of this but Chicago has morphed into the fiery pits of Hell, with atrocious sunburned feet to boot. See, this is why I hate summer, for this exact reason. Why do people insist on wearing flip flops in the sun? I can't tell you how many hundreds of sunburned feet I witnessed just last week alone. Jan managed to drag Diana and me to the beach on Sunday, where we both proceeded to bake and die immediately. Jan didn't care -- he was busy working on his "sex tan." You know, the kind where there's a dramatic tan line around the hips. The Swedes sure know how to tan, don't they? you would think with them being Nordic that they would just burn to a crisp, but no -- golden brown goodness all the time. This weekend, Diana's apartment was a cooling center. We conked out with old Glamours and iced raspberry-lemon tea. I don't know why Diana is afraid to throw away magazines. I swear there is a 1997 issue of Glamour with some supe
Read more

Milestone

We finally had sex. Real sex. The kind that leaves you sleepy, exhausted, and tingly throughout the night. I showed up to his apartment, carrying Elexa freshening cloths and condoms. I came ready to go on an adventure, the adventure he promised me.  An adventure it was.    The sex lasted hours. We started at 7 P.M., and ended (by falling asleep in front of his fire place) at around midnight. He tapped into every sexual zone -- toe sucking, massage, and even restraining me while he had his way with me (really loved that!). I was thoroughly orgasmed! Absolutely NO NEED to frake .  He was fascinated by my ability to squirt. He even stopped mid-thrust to examine the liquid. "It's not pee," I said. He looked at me as though I'd insulted him. "I don't care if it is. What does it feel like?" I urged him to continue thrusting and I would describe the process as it happens.  But you'll have to wait to read the rest, I've got a ton of laundry to do. I j
Read more

Dangerously Candid

I'm afraid of The Zaftig Chronicles, for it has made me a new woman. I have tapped into a part of me that wants to expose the fondest of memories and the most tragic ones as well. This blog entices me to be free. This morning's post is something I thought I'd never share, but I felt compelled to get it out of my head. It wasn't a post to offer insight into my life, but a release for me. And I want to do more. Being candid can be addictive . Stephanie Klein has discovered this first-hand. And now I understand the power and healing behind being dangerously candid.
Read more