Category Archives: cougar-kitten

Hot Stranger Boys, Cliché’s, and those confounding timeless questions of life

Am I in a downward spiral and don’t know it?  Has the incessant spiraling now become too standard for me to realize what I’m doing and perhaps I’m too dizzy to be aware of what’s happening?  Wait…is this the frog boiling on the stove analogy happening as I type? 

A few details:

ABD is a  super nice guy, way laid back, didn’t meet him online, but through a friend.  I don’t know his actual age, but I’m confidently guessing him at somewhere in the vicinity of ten years older than I or more.  I don’t want that to matter.  I want to focus on nice guy…not at all bad looking, unmarried, and seems so very kind (in fact it is his computer on which I type this).  We had drinks together in a small group one evening shortly after I returned.  He felt as though he knew me before…ummmm, I’m pretty sure not.  I’m horribly forgetful, but I don’t usually forget faces and I didn’t recognize him by any means. 

Wasn’t at all interested in dating him, but enjoyed hanging out with him.  Then I was coaxed pushed into going on a double date to a Halloween party with him. I had a nice time.  It was fun to flirt and just relax for a while…still not interested in him at all though!  Afterward, he offers to let me use his extra laptop for a while.  This is terrific, as I love to write and my daughters need a computer for a lot of their homework assignments.  So of course, I gratefully accepted…and now he emails and calls regularly.  I feel guilty that I don’t want to see him or hang out.  The naked truth is I’m not all that interested in seeing most anyone or hanging out much at all really.  Too much going on personally, so much I’m dealing with, with the children, and my stress level automatically prioritizes.  Dating someone or even just hanging out with a guy who is interested that way while I’m not, just feels like a lot more added stress and guilt on an already over-loaded situation.

He has gotten insistent a few times and I just keep throwing my excuses at him…  What??  They’re valid!  They are!  Okay yeah, so maybe they also happen to be convenient excuses to not go out with a guy I’m really not interested in anyway but who is just so nice, I wish I could be interested.  He’s also a quite the pot smoker, which I’m not at all.  I don’t judge his choice for the marijuana bit (to each his own), but add that he rides a Harley and wears his greying hair in a ponytail…these things somehow add to his age in my mind.  Maybe he should seem younger than his age, but in reality (well, my reality), these things make him appear the “Aging Biker Guy”.  I was never one for pot, but I do recall a few bad-boy stoner/biker guys from high school and college who I secretly crushed on. I kinda liked thewhole  James Dean-ish  image thing, but I never would have dated one…even then! Somehow now, and at his age, it all just screams of the ridiculous.  I struggle to take the image he presents seriously….it almost makes me giggle at the cliché.  Yet, I don’t believe he’s trying for this cliché thing; it seems to be who he’s always been, not some mid-life crisis ordeal, and how does one change who they are?  Why should they?  Just because they’ve become a walking, talking, pot smoking, Harley riding, pony tail wearing cliché?  Is it really even a cliché if it’s what you’ve always been?    Seriously…you gotta be who you are, right?  Yup, I agree, but that doesn’t mean I can bring myself to be interested in dating one even if it really is just who he is.  So I make excuses…valid ones, yeah, but I admit they are excuses…  I’m really sorry AB…truly…  Ummm… it’s just never  gonna happen..

Topic two: A few weeks ago, I went bowling with a group of friends.  We had a great time.  It was terrific to catch up and just be goofy with friends for a while.  Unfortunately, here is where I have a few confessions to make.

I’m not much of a drinker.  Sure, I love a few glasses of wine with dinner, a few beers with friends, or occasionally a few drinks when I go dancing, but I’m just not a very good drinker beyond that. My catch-22 with the drinking thing is that I rarely want to drink anything beyond that unless I’m stressed…and let me tell you, I don’t know exactly what it is, but I can not handle alcohol when I’m too stressed.  It must be something in my brain chemicals or hormonal… hell, I don’t know! Does this indicate alcoholism?  I’ve pondered that even…  It’s a sad thing that when I’m most interested in escaping and forcing some relaxation on my brain and body with a few too many is precisely the exact time which my brain and body can’t tolerate much alcohol at all, much less beyond what I typically know I can handle gracefully.

…so a few weeks ago…bowling…drinks…fun with friends… Everyone decides to go to a bar to listen to a live band, dance, and drink a bit more.  I know I should just go home, but the kids are gone for the weekend, I’ve been way stressed, and I’m happy to be out among friends..and truthfully, I just don’t feel like going home anyway, so I join them to the next place.

I’m dancing like a foolish idiot…yeah..that’s okay.  I do that.  It’s not my first time.  I’m not so ashamed…  I probably think I’m dancing like Beyonce, when in fact it resembles Elaine from Seinfeld.  I know….  Hey,   I’m not trying to impress anyone, I’m just having fun.  If you don’t like it, you really don’t have to watch.  I know it might be like a train wreck where you don’t wanna look, but can’t help yourself…  Whatever. That’s your problem.

Anyway, I’m dancing like the sexy beast I am and a few more old friends show up.  Yay!  This is awesome….and they start buying shots…  This seems like a good idea since I’m stressed and yet I do know that it isn’t a good idea since I’m stressed…  But I drink them and I think I’m grateful…

When somehow, in the midst of this whole shenanigan, Hot Stranger Boy starts talking to me.  Yeah, I gotta go with “boy” here, as I’m thinking he’s early 20’s if he’s even a day.  I really don’t know how or why hot boy and I are talking.  It’s all rather jumbled at that point.  I’m no cougar though.  In fact, I don’t typically find myself even attracted to guys who are more than one or two years younger than I.  It’s just not my thing.  Don’t misunderstand, I might find them attractive yeah, but I just don’t find myself attracted TO them.  But apparently, this guy, this situation, these drinks, this I-don’t-freakin’-know-what, brings me to find hot stranger boy attractive and we decide it’s a great idea that he comes over.

What?  Who decided this?  And what in the hell was that person thinking?  This is not a good idea on several levels.  One:  I’ve had way too much to drink; two:  I’m stressed out of my mind and suffering from a temporary case of blonde n’ flighty ADD (which I tend to do when stressed)and three:  hot boy is a BOY.  What in the hell is happening here?  Who’s in charge?  I need to speak to them immediately because someone needs to get a grip on this sitch…and soon…

Not me, though, for the precise reasons this was not a good idea are the same reasons me getting a grip on this sitch and putting it into perspective under the circumstances was just not going to happen.  Hot Stranger Boy and I get dropped at my house, which happens to be empty of anyone except the Hot Boy and myself.  Coincidence?  Uhh, I think not…

As soon as we are in my house, alone, I must have had a brief moment of perspective because I remember suddenly feeling kinda nervous and thinking (to myself of course), this just might not be a good idea.  I should drive him home.  Ohh hell no…I can’t drive in my intoxicated state.  But yeah, I’m responsible so I do the next best thing; I suggest we have a glass of wine and a cigarette.  What?!  I never said I made good choices under these circumstances, even while in “perspective” mode.  Yeah, another glass of wine was the last thing on earth I/we needed.  But I open a bottle of Seven Deadly Zins and we proceed to have a glass.  I start looking for my iPod..can’t find it…  No worries…Hot Stranger Boy’s got this.  He plays his; he selects John Mayer.   And now we have it… too many drinks plus, Hot Stranger Boy, and sexy music. Seriously, I’m feeling like I just got thrust into some teen-age movie or worse yet, a Lifetime cougar movie of the week!  Fast forward through the small talk and whatnot…

Next thing I know, hot boy and I are getting wild and crazy in my bedroom right next to his iPhone playing random John Mayer tunes.  Umm, I really couldn’t tell you how/when we moved from the somewhat safety of the living room sofa to my just-waiting-to-be-frollicked-upon big empty bed of unspeakable potentials, but somehow we managed. I probably should feel a little embarrassed at this whole scenario, but really, I don’t.  I’m okay with this as a random spontaneous act of stress and alcohol related I-don’t-give-a-damn madness.  Not to mention, the sex with Hot Stranger Boy was pretty good although the details are fuzzy (Damned alcohol anyway!).  …but true to my nature, I could never leave it at this small, somewhat understandable level of age-inappropriate behavioral embarrassment.  Nooooo, of course not.

After a few rounds of juicy sexual shenanigans with HSB, the alcohol is really settling in and I start dozing off.  When suddenly, my bladder screams, Get your ass up!  You have to go potty!  I’m half asleep and almost feel like I can put this off until morning..almost like I must put this off until morning.  I can’t get up dammit, much less fully wake up!  But my bladder insisted so I sleepily stumbled to the bathroom down the hall…

And right here…here is where I don’t understand what in the HELL happened…  ALL I know is that the next thing I recall clearly (yeah, clearly is a drunken, half-asleep relative term at this point) is I’m sitting on the edge of the bathtub, with my ass hanging over the edge of the bathtub.  Why?  Fuck if I know…I just am, okay?  I’m sitting there, approximately five feet or so away from the toilet, naked as the day I was born, when HSB comes sailing into the bathroom!  And before I could even begin to process all of the components of this unbelievable situation, he asks casually, whatchya doin’?  Are you peeing in the bathtub?

What am I doingHuh?  Did you just ask me what I’m doing? Because that seems a really stupid question, I’m clearly sitting on the edge of the bathtub with my ass hanging over the tub…  I don’t freakin’ have a clue what I’m doing!  Why else would I be sitting on the edge of the bathtub, naked, at 4 AM…if I knew what in the hell I was doing?  What could possibly be confusing about this?  I’m obviously half asleep, intoxicated, and had to stop a few feet from the toilet to gather my thoughts and reflect on my actions here…duhhhh…  I mean, what else would I be doing?! …Psh…peeing in the bathtub…are you kiddin’ me?!

Ummmmm…omg…. did I pee in the bathtub?  I really can’t be certain.  I can’t imagine I did.  And beyond any stretch of my wild imagination, I can’t imagine why I would.  I mean, geesh WTF?!  I know where to pee…  Don’t I? 

I’m not so sure anymore as I truly have not a clue what I was doing sitting there.  This might turn out to be one of those timeless questions of life…  Like, what does it all mean?  Why are we here?  Why are round pizzas put in squares? What is the purpose of it all?  Why was I sitting with my naked ass hanging over the bathtub?

UN-freakin-believable!!!

This has several levels of unbelievable irony and coincidence and so I simply must write of it…

I have a guy “friend” whom is fondly referred to in my house as Hottie McHotstuff.  He’s a very sexually appealing 24 year old guy (boy?), with whom I had a night (umm…or two…?) of wild abandon this past winter.  He’s way too young for me and our connection was truly a matter of several simultaneously serendipitous events.  This is not a common theme or occurrence for me…  so this guy, this experience,  in itself is special in its own right.

how I feel around McH...

McHotstuff is friends with a girlfriend of mine.  We all were out dancing and drinking together one memorable evening awhile back.  I’m not going to pretend I hadn’t noticed him at all.  In fact, I couldn’t help but to notice him and in the beginning of the evening prior to drinking like fish and group-dancing like sexually charged beasts, we had a delightful conversation.  I enjoyed this, but immediately classified it off as just a nice conversation with an intelligent, sweet, and too-young guy.

So imagine my surprise a few hours later when our mutual friend pulls me aside and says, “J is sooooo in to you girl.”  What?  Are you kiddin’ me?  That hot young boy?  …Is way into late 30-ish, chronically-broken-hearted-ME?  Whoaa…   I laughed this off, took it as quite a compliment, and continued on as it was…having a great time with a fun group of friends.  She takes me aside again and says, Kay, I know sexual flings aren’t your thing, but I’m telling you, you really should try it with J.  I’ve never had sex with him, but another friend of mine did awhile back and she raved for months about how unbelievably effin’ fantastic he is.

Yeah, not usually my thing, but I’ll tell you, I’ve been suffering (literally) from a broken heart for years(yes, years) and with this blatant encouragement combined with my ongoing level of pain and suffering for so long, I opted to act on this. I won’t get into the crude details here, but suffice to say…ummm..yup….OMFG…was worth every bit of it!  And I’ve no regrets, then or now…  In fact, McH and I got together again on a less drunken evening merely because I wanted to experience this guy with a totally clear head!  This was very liberating to me sexually and emotionally…..I’m indebted to McH for reasons he’ll never even know!

McH and I did not become BFF’s or anything, but over the past 8 months or so, we have developed a great friendship…one that I really believe is a rare friendship with extreme sexual attraction thing.  Something I did not believe could exist prior to this.  I have genuinely fond and caring feelings for the guy, as well as a crazy sexual desire for him.  And he feels the same.  It’s truly a lovely phenomenon!

Coincidence:  After living his entire life in this small-Michigan town we lived in and me having lived there for 13 years, 3 days before I moved to Nevada, McH moved out west as well.  So he just happens to be my geographically closest “friend” from back home, although he is still 10-12 hours’ drive from me.   We text and talk fairly regularly.  He’s planning to visit Vegas at some point fairly soon.  Needless to say, I’m very much looking forward to that;-P

Here is the irony:  We have been having a text conversation over the past few days regarding my ex (a dear friend ever since our divorce 13 years ago) being a real jerk since the moment I arrived here. Excerpt as follows:

Me:  I soooo wish you were here right now! (this I texted to him the night after the near violation of my no-no square…yeah, I was super-duper scared and lonely)

Me (the next day…kind of embarrassed at how that late-night text probably came across): Sucks sometimes not really knowing any1 here…wish u were a lil closer at least…hope ur doing great tho…xoxo

McH: I wish I was too..ya’ll should’ve came to Denver it’s truly amazing

Me: I’m so glad u like it! Vegas is pretty great too..just wish I knew some1 here tho…but I’m meeting ppl just takes time I suppose…

Mc H:Doesn’t ur husband live out there or x husband?

Me: Yup he lives here..n we’ve been best friends since the divorce but now that he has the kids n me out here hes bein a major ass 2me…I shoulda known better!

McH(texted this morning):  Dude that sucks I wish I could help

Me:  No worries I’m dealing w/it..it’s just kinda sad n makes me xtra miss havin my friends around 2have fun w/…ur such a gem J… thank u tho:-):-)

McH: Well, you’re one of the greatest ppl I know.  I’m not gonna lie

Me(touched beyond reason here):   J..ur so lucky ur so far or id jump u right now just 4sayin that 2meJ  other than my ex n some pervs leering @me like they wanna eat me alive its been awhile since any1 said anything kind 2me…I just adore u..im so lucky ur my friend n ur only 10 hours away!!  :-)xoxo:-)

McH: yeah, I’m gonna come 2 Vegas once I get the cash. And u also r a great friend 2have.

AND *RIGHT HERE* IS WHEN THE UNBELIEVABLE HAPPENS:

McH: Do you have a camera phone?

OMFG!!!!    I have been intimate with McH, so this does not bother me at ALL in that way.  He’s not at all out of line and I’d share any picture I might ever have of myself with this gem of a guy…  But with consideration of my past few weeks ranting about “more cell pics” and my impending date tonight with “more-cell-pics-M”…. 

ARE YOU KIDDIN’ ME?? What the hell?  What are the odds of this crazy-ass timed request?  Is this a seemingly random and unexpected thing being thrown at me to put a brand new perspective on my current dilemma/debate regarding my upcoming date with M????

I guess this is irrefutable proof that *any* guy in the world does, in fact, just want more cell phone pics…maybe I’m being a little harsh on M?

DAD….Stop that!

 

If I date older and younger men, does that make me a cougar kitten?

Went (spontaneously too, I might add…haha Mr. SOB!) on my first date with the only older  (20 years older…WOW!) man I’ve seen on the site so far that interested me…

His emails were great!  Well spoken, probably far more active athletically than I even, intelligent, and seemingly very stable.  He was looking pretty  handsome in his pictures too.  So I went to meet him at a great little place in town called the Blue Martini.

Loved the Blue Martini….terrific little 2nd story bar/restaurant, where we sat on the balcony during sunset (nice!! ), sipped the most delicious martinis, ate lobster tacos and seared Ahi tuna, and chatted up a storm!  What a great guy!!  He’s as Irish as the day is long and Lord loves an Irishman…enjoys many of the same passions as I (theatre, sociology, reading), has impeccable manners, and still respects a  woman’s strength!  Ahhhhh…perfection!

Hmmm…..or not?  I have to admit, he looked just a little older in person than in his pictures….  Not much…not older as in, Umm…Were those pictures taken during the Great Depression?, but definitely a bit older for sure.  This didn’t bother me so much really, as he was so delightfully interesting and well-mannered,  and still attractive in that older-man kinda way…  Didn’t bother me at all…

Until the kissing.  I did not mind (much) that he took my hand almost instantly upon our meeting and seemed bound and intent upon keeping it.  That wasn’t too bad.  I’m an affectionately expressive kind of girl… I even  still like holding hands with my dad too.   My dad doesn’t usually try to hold my hand through dinner though, but that’s okay…

Towards the end of our time together, he said he couldn’t wait to take his online profile “off the market”, asked could I, would I be his girl, and then he tossed in a few smooches.  Hmm…..

I can’t pretend that a handsome guy who chooses to kiss me in public is undesirable.  I don’t mean a tongue down my throat, I’m going to throw you down right here and now on the table kiss, no….(although, YES, there is a time and occasion when that’s appropriate publicly  freakin’ HOT too but this wasn’t one of those)  but a nice smooch which demonstrates some affection, respect, and physical interest is terrific.  Call me a PDA girl if you want, but I like those!

Only I didn’t really like it this time.   I didn’t hate it…I just didn’t like it in the way I want to like it when a man kisses me in the beginning.  I love that kiss a man gives you which is brief, but sweet, and clearly shows attraction….the kiss that leaves you imagining and anticipating the next level of kissing – the one that makes your heart flutter, you knees weak, and prompts fantastic visions of him needing (not wanting) desperately to throw you down right there and have his way with you that very instant…

I didn’t feel this though or even sense the possibility of feeling that anticipation in any next kisses from him either.   No… Instead, I felt a little like I do when I kiss my dad:   Awww…you’re the sweetest, most lovely man on earth…and there’s a leeee-tle smoochy-smooch for ya to show you just how much I mean that!

Also, and I really hate confessing this…  I did not appreciate the way people glanced at us…especially the side-glances after the few little smooches he tossed on me.  It was as though people near us were subtly watching and wondering.  … And then he kissed me and the kiss lingered just a few moments beyond what would be appropriate for kisses from my dad.  I would swear suddenly those wondering glances turned into “AHA….it IS one of those creepy May/December romances going on over there…”

Second shameful confession:  When a hot early-30’s-late-20’s-something guy casually glanced our way, I was tempted to  jump quickly back from his kiss and say loudly, “DAD!!….YUK!….What are you doing?!”

Yeah… I really did think that….(looking down at the floor here in shame) so, maybe a May/December romance really isn’t quite my thing after all! 

It’s a real shame though…I do wish he was about 10 years younger…