Tag Archives: sweet smooches

Beyond cookies, odd coincidence or Fleetwood Mac

Fleetwood Mac “Rhiannon”

Mr. P is now to be referred to as Mr. C.  for Cookies.  I don’t know for sure what it is that felt off, but something did.

It started shortly after our first meeting when we became FB friends.  A day or so later, I receive an early morning text saying, ” I was looking through your FB pictures and I see you know Mary.  Mary is my oldest and dearest friend!”  I was not excitedone bit to learn we shared this mutual friend and I’ll tell you why.

It’s a pretty far out(as in crazy) story so I’ll try to cut it down to the most basic details in the interest of brevity.  I met Mary via another friend I was fairly close with; let’s call her Sybil.  Sybil and I were close friends/acquaintances for years.  Sybil was that crisis friend many of us know.  I’d go months and never hear from her and suddenly she’d pop up when her life was a mess…and her life was pretty much always a mess  or in between major “catastrophes”.  Always.  Sybil, however, took the “typical “crisis friend” to a whole new level all her own!

I may never understand why I was born with a savior complex: always feeling obligated to prove my loyalty, my love, my friendship, etc, etc.  I have learned the hard way though that this very trait seems to attract people like Sybil, people who border on the sociopathically self-centered side of character, pathological narcissists who merely collect people whom are naïve and/or stupid enough to fall for their chronic bullshit, repeated self-created dramas, and victim syndromes.

Sybil was one of my classic and most extreme cases of this.  She is, without a doubt, a pathological liar and a fairly high functioning drug addict.  Every one is merely a resource of some type to this woman. And she’s good!  She’s charming and cute, quite convincing, and very effective  at her game.  I also strongly suspect that she has Münchausen syndrome and/or  Munchausen by proxy syndrome, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M%C3%BCnchausen_syndrome ) as she or one of her three children is always at death’s door.  Although it’s hard for me to discern whether the symptoms she has of this rare disorder are actually from a mental illness itself or simply due to her extreme case of prescription drug addiction.  When you or one of your children is always suffering some extreme malady of sorts, typically you have access to painkillers either in your name or your children’s.  I’ve a sneaking hunch this aspect, as well as the attention received, is her biggest motivating force.

I fell for this game for years and often donated my own prescriptions to her various causes.  I’m not often willing or interested to take prescription strength pail relievers, so I’m an ideal “friend” for Sybil to have around at various dry spots in her addiction as well as a caring friend who goes above and beyond in most areas of friendship.

Toward the end of my 10 year friendship with Sybil, I met her friend Mary who had just returned from living in Alaska.  This was around the same time that Sybil had married a nurse she’d just met weeks earlier, allegedly this convenience marriage was only in order for Sybil to get health insurance (after all, she and her children are always seriously ill!).  A few months into this marriage, Sybil shows up at my house telling me how her husband was up on felony charges for prescription drug fraud.  Not only this, but he was cheating on her with his ex-wife!  And not only those two horrifying things, but she strongly suspected he was trying to kill her.  No, not figuratively, I mean literally, as in murder her!  There were stories of him hooking her up to IV’s in her sleep and preparing food for her that knocked her out for days while he sexually assaulted her.  Oh the stories got more horrifying and dangerous by the  day!

As crazy as this sounds in the telling and crazier yet that I’d fall for this, I did.  I invited Sybil and her three children to live with my family.  After all, this man was trying to kill her and he allegedly treated her children rather poorly as well.  And quite honestly, this wasn’t totally selfless, as I had recently been downsized by my non-profit employer and really needed a roommate anyway.  Sybil not only made very good money, but also collected a great deal of child support and would be a great person to split my household bills with.

Except, after paying for her move, buying her gas to get to work every day, supplying food for all four of them, as well as my own family and not receiving a penny of help for any of these expenses or others, Sybil still did not have any money.  Sadly(for Sybil), I could not afford to support us all for long on my meager unemployment  checks . In addition, after a few months of living together,  major cracks in her stories began to appear; to the extent that my daughters (who adored her and her children!) even began questioning Sybil’s stories and her character in general.  So when the “murderous” ex husband began coming around and after her 5 cats were destroying my beloved home, and I was totally running out of money for food and the mortgage, there was civil unrest in this household to say the least.  Shortly after I suggested she go back to her husband to work things out (they’d been “dating” since she moved in) , I discovered that Sybil had told him that I had charged her $3,000 per month plus expenses to live with me for two months!  In spite of the fact that I had asked her to contribute $500 a month and help with groceries…and never received a dime of that request.

Suffice to say, after the damage done to my home, the amount of money supporting her family cost me while she was banking mega bucks as I struggled to pay for our basic needs, and the damage done to the friendship by her chronic and hurtful lies to my children and me, this ordeal did not end well.  At all.  In addition, I came to the painful realization, that I had been duped on many levels for years by this woman!

Not a pretty story by which to know Mary, a mutual acquaintance of Mr. C’s, who I’ve not seen or spoken to since the crashing end to my friendship with Sybil.  I can only imagine the stories Mary’s been told by this sociopath!  I only know the horrifying stories I was told over the years of the various abuse Sybil always claimed she had suffered at any one of her friends’ or boyfriends’ hands through the years I’d known her.  Thus, I’m certain I’m now one of those sympathy “stories” for Sybil to tell future resources as well and I can’t imagine Mary has not heard this.

So, it was disheartening to say the least to find out my mutual friend with Mr. C was from this terrible ordeal.  And although it worried and bothered me, what do you say?  I mean really, what do you even begin to tell a relative stranger you’ve met about this kind of insane ordeal?

So of course, I didn’t tell him.  I said nothing except that Mary was a super great girl (and she is!).  I did notice Mr. C seemed far less interested in me after that little text.  He didn’t text as often as he had been previously and when he did, it wasn’t charming or funny, but more brief and to the point.  I tried to tell myself this was all in my head..that it was mere paranoia from that awful ordeal. Maybe Mary already knew what Sybil was really like and wouldn’t buy into any stories she’d heard anyway or maybe the few times she actually met me, she’d gotten a good enough sense of me as a person to at least have some doubts as to the veracity of any outlandish Sybil stories?  Or maybe even, Sybil had developed a conscience after she abused my friendship, my finances, and my home so much and she hadn’t told Mary any crazy lies about me trying to “kill her” or something so absurd like she tended to tell about the other people in her life? Haha… fat chance!

Anyway, back to Mr. C.  So, this seemed an unfavorable coincidence, but we still kept our cookie making date.  We made cookies and watched a movie.  Mr. C didn’t seem as chatty or fun as he had on our first date.  He got more talkative after my oldest and her friend came home while we were baking.  He seemed to enjoy talking to them far more than he did me.

Which brings me to another super odd coincidence:  On our first date, Mr. C had told me of a close female friend of his who was a single mom with four children.  Her (unforgettable) name was Rhiannon and they were the best of friends.  In fact, he often babysat for her children and had a close relationship with them.  Adorably endearing, right?  So, I didn’t forget this story he had shared.  Funny thing though, when my daughter came home around 9 PM with her schoolmate, Annie, Mr. C says to Annie, “you look so familiar, what’s your mom’s name?”   Annie answers, “Rhiannon” which was followed by an awkward silence.

Yeah.  Weird.  Still haven’t figured that one out.

I just wasn’t getting the sense that Mr. C was at all really into me, but I was still trying to keep it as fun as I could.  After the movie, the kids went to their room and he and I started a second movie.  I was surprised he wanted to stay for this, but okay, cool. Maybe I was reading him wrong…

We both fell asleep during the second movie.  We woke up thirsty around 3 AM.  I got us each some water and then he kissed me.  I was not expecting this after the “off” sense I was getting from him!  It was a nice kiss though…and we continued kissing for a while, progressing to more passionate kisses. This went on innocently enough til about 5 AM. I really kept expecting him to volunteer to leave…any minute….I mean this was fun, but gosh… two hours of making out at 3 AM is enough already.  I’m thinking to myself, this is just weird.  I really didn’t get the feeling all week or all night that he’s much into me, so what is this about?  And why doesn’t he leave??  I’m wondering this right around this time Mr. C goes for under the jeans, under the thong.  Hmmmm… was just NOT so sure how I was feeling about that.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not necessarily against sex on the second date or whenever really.  I’m more of a go with the moment if it feels right type of gal, whenever the moment feels right.  I see no need to put a specific time frame on when it’s right to do whatever.  It just is when it is…whenever that is.  Thus, as attracted as I felt to Mr. C and as much as I enjoyed making out with him.  All in all, after the past week of sudden quiet-ness and the odd disconnected sense throughout the evening, in all my confusion, I was sure of one thing, this time was not the right time to progress to anything under my jeans, much less under my thong!  Nope.  Not the right  moment. AT ALL!

And shortly after that maneuver, I told Mr. C it probably was time for him to leave.  There was a great deal of good-bye kissing too.  It was fun!  After he was gone, I just didn’t know what to think of everything.  Usually I get a clear sense of this kind of thing, but I really had no clue what the heck was going on, had gone on, or would go on from here.  One thing for certain though, his perfection in my mind was marred.  Not in a bad way really, just in that the odd sense I got from him really just created more questions than mystery and combined with his under the thong maneuver in the midst of it which really spoke volumes in my mind as to Mr C’s overall purpose.

I have not heard a word from Mr C since he left around 6 AM Sunday morning.  So, I’m guessing my initial sense of his “less than interested” stance must have been fairly accurate after all.

Ahhhhh…is everyone’s life so very strange?

Dammit Steve…

It occurred to me last night that in my blog mission of sharing my online dating experiences, I’ve neglected to share much of any of my real-life, more traditional, experiences of meeting people since I’ve moved to the city of U-turns and Vanity Plates.  I’m focused if nothing, but I realize my amazing focus leaves out a great deal of interesting experience.  I did share of the near violation of my no-no square, and  hot-as-HELL bartender, and drunken groping surfer dude, but other than that, nothing of this variety.  And ironically, I’ve had almost as many real-life occasions meeting men as online; not anything overly intriguing or exciting as to dating potential, noooo….but certainly interesting experiences in their own right. 

Neighborhood bar

I was blessed (or cursed?) location-wise, to live within walking distance of a fun little restaurant/bar.  It’s not a tacky little dive (although I confess I ADORE tacky little dive bars!!).  It has a nice restaurant I’ve not yet eaten in and above the restaurant is a lovely massive deck with a bar/lounge/club-like atmosphere. It has twinkle lights  scattered all over (ahhh the ambiance), huge fans and misters everywhere for the hottest nights (so cozy n comfortable  ), and a divine view of the Sin City skyline

Ambiance
Romantic

 (geesh so romantic!).  The crowd is a little on the young side, but overall there is a decent mix of crazy college kids through some middle age patrons… all the way to a coupe of old geezer “regulars” (one of whom believes every lady over the age of 30 who comes in the place, is a “cougar-for-Jared”).   Yeah, Jared is an undoubtedly (OMG!) hot bartender, but I’m still undecided on the cougar thing unless of course it’s for my precious Hottie McHotstuff over in Denver.  I do, however, like to be around people, socialize, and have a few drinks close to home occasionally…so I have been to this little “neighborhood place” three or four times since moving here. 

My last visit to the place got very interesting.  Old geezer (cougars-for-Jared guy) was there and Jared was bartending (bonus!).  I sat one of the little high-top tables alone(obviously).  I don’t like this much and can’t wait to make friends in the area, but there I was on this night.  Enter Steve (I’m sure no relation to my big-single-mother-blog-fan “Steve“). 

Steve is a fairly handsome guy around my age who on this evening asks to sit next to me.  I’m sitting alone in the midst of yet another frustrating text-servation with The Lingerer, so I’m more than happy for company, both to get my head away from the desperately annoying texts from Lingerer and to just have some company while sitting there.  He sits.  We commence to have a great discussion about various topics like careers, moving to Vegas, relationships, kids, education, politics, etc, etc…   It’s nice. I’m almost digging this guy.  Seriously. I. Am. Right. There. Hovering on the maybe this guy’s pretty cool ledge.  He’s attractive and can hold an interesting and intelligent conversation…  I’m definitely in for further investigation here.  I even moved tables with Steve at his suggestion that we move somewhere on the deck with 

is this better?

an unobstructed and more “romantic” view of the city. He bought me three (which is one too many for me!) drinks while we chatted.  Nice guy Steve.  As I’m slowly drinking my third glass of wine, Steve asks me if I’d like to go to the Rush concert with him Saturday night.  I’m a huge fan of 70’s music and this is a fabulous offer!  In fact, I’d heard of the concert on the radio just that very day and had wished I could go see them…  Wondering, how did this gift fall right in my lap?  I agreed and we exchanged numbers.  Then Steve offers to walk me to my car.  I had a bad experience with that just the last time I was at this place, so I’m hesitant.  It’s a catch-22 though because I do like having someone walk me to my car and especially here, as the deck (and thus, the majority of the people) is up so high, the parking lot is rather isolated from anyone’s view. 

Okay, this isn’t like the last time though.  I’ve actually been talking with this guy for several hours and we’ve even exchanged numbers.  Totally different scenario from Mr. Attempted Violation.  So, I gratefully accept his respectful, chivalrous offer. 

Once we get to my car, Steve goes in for a kiss.  

Okay…nice…

 I’m an admitted kissing tramp, so this doesn’t really upset of offend me whatsoever under these circumstances.  I’m in for a smooch or two…OH! Yeah!  And BONUS…he’s not at all a bad kisser!  He’s actually pretty good… 

I go to get in my car and he goes for another kiss…  Umm…okay…two is still acceptable.  I’m still in for that…  Yeah! I turn to get in my car a second time and he pulls me by my waist back toward him, turning me to snatch another kiss.  Yeah so, at this point I’m losing some of my kissing-a-stranger-gusto and am a tad more reluctant, but alright, I suppose one more is okay… but then I’m done with this for tonight pal, okay?  No, I didn’t SAY that out loud or anything, but I felt confident that my kiss itself demonstrated much less enthusiasm, as well as a definite …sigh… okay, but hurry up and get this over with feel to it. 

GOSH!  I’m definitely a very touch-feely kinda person.  Very!  But if I even think or sense for a split second that I even remotely detect any reluctance for me to touch, fondle, kiss, or otherwise demonstrate physical affection another person, I am OUT immediately.  I cease instantly.  I shudder at the mere notion of anyone ever “suffering through” my touch or kiss. 

Do ALL men need a copy?!

 Umm…  Do men NOT have ANY sensory perception AT ALL?  Does their entire sense of awareness come merely from within themselves, with ZERO comprehension of the body language of others?  Because while I was thinking, Okay, I don’t want to be rude and out and out reject you…so get this one over with and I’ll just see you later…  Steve, on the other hand, must have thought kiss number three was a big, blaring, flashing,  GREEN light; screaming “GO STEVE! GOOOO STEVE! IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY!” 

On kiss number three, in spite of my reluctance to even 

a fair likeness of what I was hiding my “smokin hot bod” under…

 participate, Steve goes in for the grope/feel!  He slides his hands around my waist, under my top (!), and says, “Wow (Kay)! You’re hiding a hot little body under that big maternity shirt…  You’re smoking under there!” 

yup...that's me Steve...

Uhhh yeah..I’m smokin’…smokin’ PISSED OFF is what I am pal….so get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Skin.  Now!   A few kisses does NOT mean it’s okay or you’re otherwise invited to GROPE a woman… Seriously…Why Steve...?  WHY?? 

I drove home rather irritated at Steve because I had really wanted to go to that concert. Subsequently, I did not take Steve’s call on Saturday morning and haven’t even yet bothered to listen to the message he left either.  

 Dammit Steve!

Umm…about the manscaping…

Here I am!

While usually my favorite part of blogging is that I can throw the F-bomb out when ever I want to… while simultaneously maintaining my lady-like good breeding.  I must declare that today my favorite part of blogging is my (nearly) absolute anonymity.  I’m quite grateful today that I’ve not shared the existence of this blog with anyone in my daily life…

Yesterday, M and I had a variable version of “the talk”. I’m all a-tizzy; succinctly ambivalent and confused in my head about this. My thoughts, feelings, and position on our talk remain decidedly unclear, as I jump back-n-forth over the fence like a wild-eyed billy-goat on hallucinogens.

Throughout the day, we texted about random mundane topics.  I was enjoying this little bit of extra attention from M when he mentioned something that not only caught me off guard totally, but hit me in the taboo-ish area as well.  I’ve lived a fairly sheltered life in many ways.  Because of that, I am slightly challenged with certain topics which really just aren’t (or at least shouldn’t be) a big deal.  So, when M shoots this text about manscaping, I’m embarrassed to the point that I’m certain my face turned various shades of hot reddish-pink immediately upon reading it.

M: since ur the only person seeing that part right now  do u prefer shaved?

Ummm……. The fact that I’m a grown woman, who’s been married, has two children, and has been sexually active for awhile now makes my embarrassment itself embarrassing.  I’m beyond embarrassed….I feel awwwwwkwarrrrrdddd. 

13 again...

WTF?  Am I a 13 year old girl all over  again?  This is ridiculous!  There’s nothing wrong with this conversation.  It’s merely considerate and open…  I’m an adult, right?  I like considerate and open.  I should not be blushing like an teenager in reproductive health class, sitting next to the boy she has a crush on!  C’MON….this is just silly!  However, to compound my embarrassment, I am a grown woman who really does not know her answer to this.  Truly, my manscaping preferences fluctuate depending on the person, the activity, the moment, the day of the week, the moon cycle, etc, etc, etc.  I really just do not know the answer to this question. And that’s absurd, so I try to take the safe-but-honest route in my slow response:

This one is nice...

Me: I’m ok w/whatev actually…I’m free spirited n pretty laid back overall so whatev makes u feel sexiest is gr8 by me! Thx 4 askin tho…super nice 2know I’m the only one seeing that right now :):)

I mean gosh, it is nice to be considered in these matters and certainly I’m appreciating that I’m the only one at this time who’s seeing the private manscaping!  I’m also delighted that this was broached  via text too so my pre-pubescent awkwardness, embarrassment, and indecision were not at all apparent.  I mean I CAN text and stutter still…. Don’t even doubt that…but I didn’t…  I answered this one appropriately and as honestly as I’m able given my random and fluctuating stance on the issue!  Yayyy me!!  However, I’m still in the process of recovering from this awkward-to-me topic when M hurls this little wrench at me:

M: just to let u know I have a rule I don’t sleep with 2 at the same time.  And if u do or I do we can just be honest n tell each other

Me again...

Okay…of course….I mean…

What?  WHAT??  WHY does this feel uncomfortable for me as well?  Hell, I’m not good or experienced at even dating two guys within the same time frame, much less being sexually active with two!  And I certainly would have been honest with M if that had happened anyway or even if I had just wanted such a thing to happen.  This doesn’t change anything really, right?  This is my unspoken creed for myself anyway.  Openly saying it hasn’t switched what it is up at all!  Well okay, maybe I wouldn’t have actually told M…I really don’t know….but if I had chosen to have sex with someone else, I’d either have told him or simply ceased having sex with him at all…  The odds of me being comfortable having or even wanting to have sex with another while I’m engaging in this kind of thing with him are astronomical at best.  It’s never happened before and I simply can’t imagine it would start now.  I respond:

Me: ok. Thx 4tellin me…I don’t either so that’s good…n I would tell u if I did…

An honest depiction of the scene of my last "agreement", just with extra clothing here

It’s good to put this “out there” openly and honestly, right?  It’s distinctly different than my last “talk” of this nature, where my ex boyfriend and I confessed our undying love for one another and that even the mere thought of either of us having sex with another person or dating anyone else was just unthinkably horrifying and repulsive.  We didn’t discuss manscaping or anything, but then I think that would have been totally unnecessary in that particular situation, as the two of us could hardly cease our sexual activity long enough to have even that brief undying love and commitment talk.  In fact, we were still sweaty and naked on his living room floor when we did… we were clearly all good, settled, and most content with the landscaping issues already. 

Do I *really* have to sign this?

So, this is definitely different, but in a good way…  It safely covers the same respectful concept and is merely a responsible and mature agreement that I would have adhered to in my own method even without it ever being openly discussed.   So why did I feel like a deer-in-headlights, with my immediate trigger-response being to drop my phone and flee the scene the moment I read the text?  Again, it’s not like this wasn’t going to be my natural stance on this anyway!  Why did it twist my insides around like a dog playing ferociously with a rag doll?

…Maybe for once in my life, I just wanted to refrain from making any promises of any kind, regardless of whether I was going to hold to such things anyway?    Like, so yeah, I admit the odds of me breaking this agreement (even were it NOT spoken) are slim-to-none…but maybe…just mayyybeeee I might have wanted to at some point this time, without having had to break an actual commitment by doing so.  The more I think about it, the more I think if I had chosen to break this “unspoken” before it was spoken, I probably would have simply ceased all sexual activity with M as a result…and felt rather free and clear in doing so too.  But, this changes nothing in theory.  I have all the same freedoms as I had before, right?  I am still totally free to have sex with anyone I choose.  This does not inhibit my actual choices.  It just commits me to sharing my choice openly and honestly with M.  So……WHY does it now feel different?

And why…  As I was driving over to M’s last night, why did thoughts race through my head of having another “talk” with M?  A talk in which I explain to him that I’ve reflected and re-thought this whole thing; that I’m just not interested in commitments or promises or agreements right now even if  I would have kept to them anyway; and that I really think it best we just don’t see each other anymore. Big hug.  Kiss on the cheek.  And ta-ta,  my friend…  Yeah, I really did have this conversation out loud, alone in my car, on the way over there last night.  Had the whole thing planned out…

...Clearly Not having *that* talk

And then I got there… and we just talked and laughed about general stuff.  I said nothing about my car-conversation-thoughts.  I had one delicious glass of my favorite yummy wine, snuggled with him on the sofa,  and left two hours later – sans any sexual activity… he didn’t push that either and thankfully,  he knew before I arrived that I wouldn’t be able to stay for long, so there were no issues or challenges.  We just had fun as usual.  I was glad and relieved because somehow to have had sex with him last night or even just to have spent the night there with him, after the manscaping talk, would have somehow felt like it really sealed the deal.

I am Jill's confused brain

…and that might not be so good right now because I just do not know how I feel about the deal…  It’s as deeply confusing to me as my manscaping preferences!

Accidentally, inadvertently, mistakenly…LOVE your toaster

It's not like a sexual thing...or anything...

Although it pained me for two reasons (1.  The outrageeeeeez accent and 2. M was back from Paris), I kept to my prior commitment and my overall “mission” and hung out with Word Man last evening.  You all were right, his accent sorta faded into the background after awhile…  Thank GAWWWD…I could not have handled an entire date with that mind-abrasion of an accent if it had not at least softened throughout the evening.

He offered me a choice prior to the date of dinner out or him cooking.  I chose dinner at his house.  I love to have someone cook for me! I am filled with gratitude and respect for any person who offers to cook for me.  I subscribe to the “ice water phenomenon” even.  What is it about someone else cooking or making a sandwich or even a  glass of ice water, that just tastes better (even if it really doesn’t) merely because someone else made it?   Post hot-n-heavy sex, my ex boyfriend always grabbed a glass of ice water for me and it never ceased to be the most deliciously refreshing glass of ice water I’d ever had.  I used to have the sneaking suspicion that everyone in the entire world must have better tasting water than I.  Until one day when he went into my kitchen after a rowdy romp and still delivered a most scrumptious glass of water, far more luscious that any I’d ever made for myself in that same kitchen, using that very same water supply.  It was then I realized that it wasn’t that I was permanently cursed with less tasty water than the rest of the world, but everything just tastes better when someone else makes it for you.  It could be Kraft mac n’ cheese, a PB&J, or Top Ramen noodles…it just tastes better!  So although I’m a far more terrific cook than he, Word-Man did rack big bonus points for offering to cook for me!  Thanks again,  WM!

…And we played games.  I love board games!  They are one of the greatest date activities ever! It covers any awkward silences, tosses around ample communication, sprinkled with tiny tidbits of get-to-know-you-better information, all mixed in with some vigorous competitive energy!  It doesn’t get any better than that for a healthy, productive, and informative first date…

Contradiction here is that I enjoyed the games, liked him enough as a person, got over the obnoxious accent for the most part, but felt zero – not a dash, not an iota, not inkling, not a speck – of chemistry.  Confound it… that damned chemistry anyway!  I’d venture that freakin’ thing is responsible for more problems in the whole dating thing than anything else.  Why can’t we have an inner switch inside so that when we’re having a terrific time…or even maybe not such a terrific time…but just hanging with a terrific person,  we could just choose to flip the switch?   How many dating problems across the world would be solved if chemistry wasn’t so damned elusive and  we could just turn it on for ourselves whenever we felt it should be there?  Or wished it were there?

Oh...your mother picked out these sheets? FLIP THE SWITCH!

Ummm you’re such a nice guy. Nothing.   My grandma would so approve.  Nothing. Ummm, my uncle might approve too?  Nope..nothing.  You have a million terrific qualities I adore and admire?  Nothing.  Hmm….okay…what did you say?  You’re a zillionaire and horribly generous?  Nothing.  You’ve won the Pulitzer?  Nothing.  Wait! ….the Nobel Peace Prize too???? Nothing….ahhh c’mon….there’s gotta be something there?  Nope, nothing…..flip the switch…ahhh……yes… okay……. AND you’re sexy too…I just gotta have you right here on the stairs, in the library…no, I’m not hungry because I must have you here on this very table right this freakin’ second! The museum? Yeah…  The movies?  Yup!  Your car?  Umm yeah, you’re so fabulously sexy, I want you there too!  I want you every where!

Oops…forgive me please, I got lost for a second there, fantasizing out loud because it wasn’t there for me with Mr. Wordmeister.  WTF?  He’s my kind of attractive, enjoys so many of the same things I do, cooked for me, made me laugh a few times, and…nothing.  Just nothing….

Who needs a date anyway?

Could it be that he talked incessantly of his mother?  It’s adorable that she decorated his entire house for him and changes the décor every now and then, right?  Actually, I could just be jealous; I’d like to have a mother who does that for me…  Could it be his overwhelming allergies to his cat and thus, his chronic nasal drip and nose- blowing?  Could it be that when he wasn’t talking about his mother decorating and redecorating his house, he was talking about how much he loves his cat?  How he explained in vivid detail that he gets mega-annoyed when dates don’t put the toilet lid down because he’s petrified his beloved cat will get curious and drown in the toilet? 

Ms. Snuggle-fluffy doesn't know how to swim!

 Awww but that shows his capacity for responsibility and devotion! Right?   It’s beautiful…ding, ding, ding, we have a match…I love cats too!  He told me how he loves sex…  Ding! Ding! Ding!I love sex too! Don’t worry, he safely explained how he draws the line at bestiality; that if he ever felt sexually attracted to Miss Snuggle-Fluffy, he’d do the right thing and proceed to cut “it” off with a kitchen knife….  That’s charmingly reassuring, rightIsn’t itNothing. I felt nothing…except of course, a strong and compelling desire that he not,  in any way, attempt any physical connection.

another theory on Ms. Snuggle-fluffy in the toilet-perhaps she wants WM to get a life?!

I’m not so sure you can even fully imagine my utter horror when as we sat at the dining table playing a game of Scrabble (Ding! Ding! Ding!  I love Scrabble too! ), my foot accidentally    inadvertently   mistakenly slid over his.  OMG….I didn’t want to YANK it back, as though I was just disgusted at touching him.  So I casually just moved it away, trying to be slow enough that my aversion to this kind of contact wouldn’t be too obvious…intentionally avoiding the knee-jerk reaction to snatch my  foot away from his as though I’d just brushed it up against an open flame. 

Big mistake. He totally misconstrued my attempt to be considerate of his feelings as a desire to play footsie!! GAWWD!  After my big-oopsie-footsie mistake, he kept rubbing my foot with his under the table… ever so slowly and gently…in a sexually charged invitation-like fashion. Umm… AWKWARD…  I didn’t want to encourage this, but hate to be rude.  After all, it wasn’t like he was rubbing MY Miss Snuggle-Fluffy or anything.  And were I attracted to him, I would have enjoyed a little bit o’ the footsie action.  But I wasn’t.  And I didn’t.  And he continued…and continued…and continued.  My only recourse was to not look him in the eye whenever he did this, in spite of the fact that I could feel his stare blazing on me,  begging me to look up and return his gaze.    So I just ignored every one of them.  I suddenly became very interested in organizing and reorganizing my rack of letters, talking to Miss Snuggle-Fluffy, randomly watching the television- commenting stupidly at whatever was there, and admiring his toaster with sheer fascination…anything I could think to do to avoid his gaze and politely ignore the footsie action he was desperately trying to get going.

My, my, my, that is a TRULY lovely toaster you have!

Flub number 2:  As he was walking me to my car, I was really hoping to avoid any kind of good night kiss.  Thinking I would make that clear easily by just giving him a quick smooch on the cheek as I jumped in my car.   No.   I timed it all wrong and accidentally inadvertently   (ahem) mistakenly got his NECK!  Yeah, it was brief enough (I hope) that he didn’t get the wrong idea of my intentions and feelings, but seriously?  How in the hell did I accidentally inadvertently mistakenly get his NECK?!  How does that even HAPPEN?  What unfair glitch in the universe did I stumble on to make two totally misleading, mistaken, and inadvertently sexually-oriented gestures such as these??  In one night?  With one date????!!??

I don’t know.  I probably never will.  …but I did…  And I was horrified!  Ohhhh stars…why didn’t I just go with M?

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?

What goes up…

image via Clker.com

And here is the downside of it all…  I’m certainly not perfect (as any who read this blog I’m sure have already figured out).  Although, I do know and am very confident that in any dating situation, I bring a lot of positive, great stuff to the table… 

I’m considered attractive by most, I’m a pretty good sport in life in general, my intelligence is higher than the average bear, I have a broad and terrific sense of humor, am genuine and honest, and have an innately vibrant energy…all good stuff!

I’m pondering today though…..

I received an email this morning which says, “Thank God…another smoker!”  Umm….what??  Because I’m very honest, I have admitted that I occasionally smoke.  Eeeeek…..I’m so over the whole smoking thing…however, I have not fully conquered the nasty disgusting habit…ughhh…and YUK:-(

I was tempted to be less than honest about this nasty downside because I hope to kick it to the curb fully and hopefully sooner than later… 

Then I get this email today and I realize my honesty will most likely draw smokers to me and push non-smokers away.  In addition, I can sincerely say that my odds of quitting totally, while dating a smoker, are less than optimistic.  So naturally it’s not all that appealing to me to date a smoker…and especially not one who has responded to my “occasional smoker” admission with “YAYYYY…you smoke!!”

On the flip side, were I to deny this habit, then I’d feel like a liar if I got an overwhelming and undeniable urge on a date with an avid non-smoker to sneak off and have a quick little yukky puff (which just recently happened to me with Mr. Favorite)…  Thus, until I’m confident I’ve conquered this fully, I must be honest that there might indeed be moments here and there when I’m not effectively fighting this battle of niocotine addiction. 

This leaves me in a quandary of sorts.  I really would prefer not to date a smoker…and yet, I currently would need someone at least mildly sympathetic to my struggle with nicotine and willing to accept the possibility of an occasional relapse…and that’s most likely only going to come from a smoker.  I certainly wouldn’t expect a non-smoker to kiss me after smoking though…eww..yukk!  And I like kissing, so that does take a bit of the fun out…and yet it also would provide a fabulous motivation for me to NOT indulge in these occasional relapses as well…  Hmmmm….

UPDATE:  M texted me on his way home from work last night asking me to come for a swim, but this week is not looking conducive to a spotaneous evening swim, so I had to decline.

…And I must confess, I giggle a little inside knowing that he must wait for his swimsuit “pic” when I’ve already shared one in virtual public here on my blog.  Ummm…is it proof that my inner bitch is growing bigger and stronger that I get a degree of  delight from knowing that little contradiction and blatant display of favoritism?

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…