Dur-ama (I'm in the OC - so we over syllabatize)

You are never to old to learn something about yourself.  I have a not so secret addiction.  My friend pointed it out to via a text conversation we were having & damn if she wasn't right.  Sadly there is no rehab for this addiction.  No pill you can take to make it all feel better.  There is no cure for Dur-Ama.

My friend thought I would be mad when she told me this - after all - nobody wants to hear their flaws but she was right.  She told me she was told that a long time ago & it rang true for her also.  I think it starts with the good girl/bad boy syndrome.  We all SAY we want a nice guy, we all say we want the guy who reads us poetry, sings us love songs & brings us flowers, but when we are young - we want the guy who is going to rock our world & break our hearts. As we grow older - we hope that we grow past it.  Some of us do- me - not so much.


I had a Mr. Nice Guy once.  Sure he looked edgy - he wore fisnets & leather pants. Sure he bought me KFC mashed potatoes because I couldn't eat solid foods when I pierced my tongue. Sure he said I should have called him when I locked my key in the car at a gas station after I snuck out of his house the next morning in a "WTF did I do last night" haze. (karma is a bitch!).  He bored me to tears and quite frankly his uncircumsized pierced penis scared me.

A while later after the whole Fred incident - all my friends were urging me to give him another try.  They all said the nice guy is what I needed & he could be the best thing that ever happened to me.  Funny thing happened there.  He turned the tables on me and more Mr. Nice Guy!  He ignored me at the club even though we were together.  We would have plans to meet up & he wouldn't show.  He stopped calling & I couldn't get enough of him.  In the end it went south as it always did.  I slept with his best friend and Mr. Nice Guy  slept with his best friends girlfriend.  I found out it was over when his friend came into my store & asked me out.  I told him he knew I was dating Mr. Nice Guy & he told me that Mr. Nice Guy told him we were through.  Guess I missed THAT memo!

While I am older & wiser (yes that line made me giggle too) - Drama free is what I crave. Yet I seek it out like a crack whore looking for her next fix. If things are going well on the home front, you can bet I will stir something up.  If I feel slighted - I can never be the bigger person and let it go. I can rant & rave & tell you I will never speak to you again & you KNOW that I call you & make you feel like it was your fault. Cyclone Kathy used to be my nickname because I would come in, stir it all up and leave a huge mess with nothing but shambles in my wake.  Quite frankly I am surprised there are people who are still talking to me thanks to my past digressions. Drama is not something I know how to escape because when everything is great - I worry because I don't know how to deal with positiveness.

So Here's to the 1st step - My name is Kathy & I am addicted to DRAMA. Where's Jack Black when I need him to reel me in with the mantra "In Controllllllll" ala Animal?  I will try to maintain balance,  although being a Leo by nature makes me lean toward drama queen tendencies.  In the quest for love - I guess I need to seek the good guy with a bad boy edge? (As opposed to my room-mates very cute friend - he  claimed to be a prude with whorish qualities). Oh well - until I figure it out - I do look darling in my tiara!

****I just found out that Mr. Nice Guy passed away last year.  Rest in Peace Mr. Nice Guy, Rest in Peace.

Glory Days

When Bruce Springsteen sang "Glory Days" I didn't get it.  I didn't understand the reasons for waxing poetic about the past.  I guess when you are younger it wouldn't make sense.  Flash forward many years & I get it.  I really do.

Whether it is thinking about what could have been with Fred. wondering what would have happened if I hadn't landed in bed with a guy I had dreamed of going out with for years 5 minutes after my high school crush asked me if we could date or remembering all my cute dresses that I probably couldn't get my left leg through now much less my whole body - yes I too wax poetic.

While at the time it all seemed so complicated - my 20's were such a breeze.  I was on my career track, I had the best clothes, a cute body & never ever went home alone unless I chose to.  Those were the days when my schedule consisted of go to my job in retail, buy a new outfit (never mind that I had enough clothes that I could go 6 weeks without repeating anything), get ready for the club, frustrate my friend Lisa with the outfit du jour (yes I can STILL hear her saying "you really aren't wearing that are you?  Yes I can see your bra matches your skirt - that's my point....NO I don't want to see that your panties match too"), go to the club, come home too drunk to sleep, call the radio station & talk to the overnight DJ until I was sober enough to fall asleep, get about 5 hours sleep, rinse & repeat.  We did this every Weds, Thursday & Saturday night. This was the only time in my life I was ever in the "IT" crowd.  For once I had the right friends, the right clothes & even lived in the right place.  I even had enemies which just proved I had made it. All I really had to think about is what I was going to wear the next day & rock it.

The funny thing is being the IT girl really wasn't all it was cracked up to be.  After awhile, I began to see just how superficial it all was.  You remember when the focus used to be more about dancing & less about drinking & you don't remember when the tables shifted to it being more about drinking & socializing & less about dancing (mostly because you were too drunk to dance & quite frankly you were above dancing with the frat boy masses).  You found yourself a sobbing mess in the ladies bathroom crying over some guy who wasn't worth your tears and you did this regularly.  You realize that your "club friends" really weren't your friends and would trade you up for the next IT girl that came along.

So as I look back on my "Glory Days" I realize - wow - they really weren't as spectacular as I want to remember them being.  Although I really should apologize to for showing off my friends Easter Egg panties to the whole club.  Yeah - good old glory days - Sobbing mess or not - I wouldn't trade the memories for anything!

I may have been a bump on a log - but my hair did look fabu!

I have tried twice for a girls night out & failed miserably both times.  Now in my defense - the first time I was recovering from wicked morphine withdrawals from being in the ER the previous day.  I had no such excuse for Thursday night.  There was no reason I shouldn't have had fun & 5 drinks in - I should have felt a lot more intoxicated than I was.  It was so bad - I was accused of being a bump on a log.  I might not have been if his wife hadn't shown up, but my homewrecking days have long since past though.

The thing is - I'm kind of shy which can usually be alleviated by a few drinks. Unfortunately drink #4 made me ninja puke & along with my mexican appetizers - my liquid courage when down the drain.  My friend who with me was talking up a storm to anyone within ear shot. She was playing pool with the cute guy I was interested in as a segue way into me playing with him.  She was having fun - me not so much. 

I kind of have it set in my head that if a guy is interested in me - he will come up and talk to me. I'm no longer of an age where I feel comfortable throwing myself at a guy. (Too much watching Patti Stanger me thinks.) As obnoxious as I can be; I find myself more quiet and reserved in a setting where I am not comfortable.  This does not bode well in a PACKED bar.  I did get a peck on the cheek by the cutest 21 year old I have ever seen although he was coerced by his older brother into telling me I was adorable. 

It is times like this that is it hard not to get down on myself.  I am living the conundrum of I hate being alone & too scared to do anything about it. People like my friend or my room-mate who have vibrant personalities make me shrink back into my shell.

 I need to figure this out or shut up.  So I am putting out an APB. If you find my swagger - let me know ASAP or I may be forever doomed to have Lego Harry Potter be my main man.

Holiday Humbugs

Yeah I said it.  Politically incorrect as it may be - I HATE the holidays. 
I hate that next to the Halloween decorations at Target - Christmas lights were flashing.  I hate that a weekend before Thanksgiving - Santa was at the Mall. I hate that last year - the fat guy who was getting paid a hell of a lot more than I was told my son that if he was a very good boy - he would find the $60 Buzz Lightyear wings under the Christmas tree.  Hey guess what - Mommy was unemployed & even if I could have afforded them - every store was sold out.  Way to kill a 4 years old Christmas wish asshole!

I don't even think we did much to celebrate my son's first 2 Christmases.  I couldn't buy my ex anything because he was the king of "Look what you  bought me - it's perfect - how did you know?" G (as my son will be known from here on out) was too young to really know whether he had anything or not. Now I hate the I can't afford to address what my son wants for Christmas.  While I am working this year, as he gets older - his list gets more expensive.  He doesn't ask for a lot - he just goes quality over quantity.  A Nintendo DS, a trip for 3 to Disneyland or LegoLand, a WII, a LeapPad & a lot of Legos.  I wish baby - I really do.
 
My Ex & I tried in vain to dodge the Santa bullet. In the past we have not pushed the Santa issue.  Our children get in trouble for lying, yet we tell them a man comes down the chimney bringing presents.  We tell them to be good or they get put on a naughty list.  We wanted our child to be good because it was the right thing to do & to appreciate what was given because it was a gift from the heart - not from a man who gets credit for what we could barely afford.  Sadly - G is ALL about Santa this year & we have decided to just roll with it.  He asked me what Santa was bringing him & I asked him if he could have one special thing from Santa what would it be.  He said he wanted Jessie & Bulleye from Toy Story to go with his Buzz ^& Woody.  Score one for the Santa - that one is doable.

I hate decorating the Christmas tree.  My stepdad made it such a mechanical military process that  it sucked the joy out of it.  This had to go there, That couldn't go there.  What are you thinking - those go inside.  My 1st year in California, I had to put up our stupid tree myself because my ex went to Portland to visit his sister & I wasn't invited.  The following year we didn't bother because we both had what is now known as the Flu of 99.  My son however LOVES the Christmas tree, so I feign joy even though I would rather be stabbed in the eye with a fork than decorate it.  I did good this year - I barely did any rearranging behind him.  When it was done & lit that night - he pronounced it AWESOME & BEEYOUTEEFUL.  He also told me I was the best mommy ever for hanging his window lights. 

OK - so not EVERYTHING about the Holidays suck.  As long as my kiddo is happy - what could I possibly be so grinchy about?

My day of Thanks

Another Thanksgiving has come upon us.  A time to reflect what we are thankful for, perhaps wonder who is thankful for us, or even sometimes admit what we are not thankful for.

I am thankful for the following:

My Friends
I have torched bridges and left nothing but smoldering ash and yet people have found in in their heart to let me back in.  They share my good times & let me cry to them during my bad times.  In particular - Susie, Wally, Lisa, Tania, Kim & yes even Fred. I would be lost without them!

My Son
His is my blonde haired, blue eyed ray of sunshine that makes everything worth while.  He is smart, cute, wise, funny & his hugs can melt away even the worst days.

The Ex
Yes, I am thankful for him. He still helps me out a lot.  He is the father of my son & the person I have spent the past 13 years of my life with,  Til death do us part may not be what it ended up as, but I would rather have him as the friend I am not with anymore than the enemy I can't stand to be with.

My Room-mates
V gave me a place to live even though I didn't fit the demographic of his household.  My room has become my haven and I no longer feel like I am living in someone else's house. N. moved in and gave the place a womanly touch. She gave me things to make my room less utilitarian and more homelike. They are both great people and I LOVE being around them (when I am actually ever home).

My PS3
It has been my source of amusement for many hours while I adjusted to being single. I still find Harry Potter to be my main man & now I must get years 5-7!

My Job
Let me get past the 6 month mark as I don't want to jinx it. But I am so thankful to be employed at such an amazing company

Facebook
This may sound silly, but it has helped me reconnect with many people I may not have found otherwise since most of my friends are on that side of the Mississippi.

Sargento Reduced Fat String Cheese
It's my weakness - what can I say?  There are worse things out there to binge on when having a bad day - at least I am getting my recommended value of calcium

YOU - yes you my reader
You have given me a reason to voice my opinions, share my adventures and well - just get some things out of my system in a humorous format.  I hope you enjoy reading this as much I enjoy writing it.  I love that I have seen people from the UK & Russia reading it.

I shall not reflect on what I am NOT thankful for, though I do have a few things.  That is not what this is intended for.  If you celebrate Thanksgiving - I hope you have a great holiday.  If you do not celebrate it (my UK, Australian & Russian readers) you can still reflect on what you are thankful for and have a great day.  After all - we should always take time to appreciate the good things we have no matter what the day!

A Weighty Matter

There were plenty of reasons I skipped my high school reunions.  My 10 year fell on the same weekend that my best friend was getting married & from what I understand it - it was just a giant kegger anyways.  My 20 year was a different story.  I considered it (briefly) but changed my mind. One reason was the cost.  I mean really - why was I going to fly 2200 miles home and pay $50 bucks a plate to eat dinner with a bunch of people who wouldn't let me eat lunch with them 20 years ago.  Another reason is - well I got fat.  That may seem like a really lame reason to some, but it was very valid for me.

You see; my awkward years spanned from oh 8 through about 21.  I was sweet 16 & never been kissed & graduated high school a virgin.(yes I know given my past - that is hard to believe.) No guy I was ever really interested in high school was never interested in me until AFTER graduation when I was in my "hot" period. The LAST thing I wanted to do was show up looking like a plump princess & have my hottie dreamboat who married an even hotter girl look at me & think GOOD GOD - I F'D THAT? What about the guy who was in my best friend's fraternity that I graduated with.  We hooked up at the bar, went home to watch Aladdin, I spent the night, he kissed me good-bye the next morning & I never saw him again.  Would I really want him to see me in what was my current state? The answer in my head was a resounding Not Just No - HELL NO! I don't want to be remembered as the shy unpopular girl or the fat unpopular woman.

Now never mind that some of the kickline & cheerleaders blew up so big that even in my larger state - I still looked small.  Never mind that some of the guys probably married a nice cornfed girl that resembles my current state and are happy as can be.  That is all fine and dandy, but it kills the illusion - at least in my head. I am catty enough to make fun of others - so I know my weight would have been fair game.

Weight is something I struggle with. I know at some point Fred will roll into my neck of the coast & I am terrifed of what he will think when he sees me.  Sure the weight gain has made for some FANTASTIC boobs, but that isn't enough to make up for the extra poundage elsewhere. I think it is great that J-Lo and Christina Aguilera had enough self esteem to show off everything but their hooha & nips at the AMA's because they can embrace their "curvy' appearance.  Personally - I was embarrased for them.  I mean they were considered sex symbols in their prime, yet J- Lo had the side fat rolls rockin' & Christina just looked like a sausage about to bust out of it's casing.  Why am I bagging on them if I know I am not one to talk?  Because they put themselves out there in a "hey look at me fashion".  I looked and didn't like what I saw. I think there just comes a time when you realize that you are not 20 anymore. That most of us don't resemble that girl who could wear anything & usually did. We know that now if we up play the boobs, we down play the bottoms & vice versa. That we are mom's (and some of us dad's) who are involved in our kid's lives & don't have a nanny. We eat the damn dinosaur chicken because kidlet didn't finish it & we are still hungry.

I know that the person who will truly love me - will love me whether I look like a waif or I ate 1 too many waifers.  I am sure that Fred will not shun me (although I cannot be positive if he would sleep with me). I just have to learn to love me - no matter what my reflection says or nobody ever will.  As for the 40 year reunion.  I am sure I will find a good reason to skip that one too!

Exes and Ohs

I am a true Leo.  The only thing bigger than my pride (besides my hair) is my ego.  I am never wrong, I hate to apologize and I hate feeling slighted.  I love with all my heart  & can despise with the same amount of passion. To top it off - boy can I hold a grudge. 

Forgiveness is not something that comes easily for me.  This brings me to the story of Fred (name change alert).  Every woman should have one white hot romance in their lifetime.  Fred was mine.  His was a relationship like I had never known before. It was so hot that we couldn't keep our hands off each other & the 20 minute drive to Englewood was too long.  We ended up in the back of my hatchback of my Dodge Daytona in the Asylum parking lot with my butt plastered against the window.  Even in the non-sexual moments, he was amazing.  When I was working almost 80 hours a week at the mall, he would bring me lunch & sit with me outside my kiosk. When I needed someone for my employees to practice ear piercings on - he offered up his lobes.  When he asked me to move out of state with him - it was a no brainer - I was ready to roll.

Paris & Nicole may have coined the term FRENEMIES, but Jean & I had it down to an art.  My problem was that everything I was being told by Fred - he was also telling Jean right down to that out of state move.  I loved Fred like no other, but even so - I wanted to keep him from Jean because she was doing everything in her power to keep him from me. Fred & I were on & off again a few times because of her, but every time I saw him - I had no willpower. He may have shown up at the club with her, but he was going home with me.

In the end - Jean won and to say Fred & I ended badly would be like saying the Titanic sprung a small leak.  Our last 2 conversations in 1998 ended in tears & a don't you EVER call me again.  Many years past and I always wondered what I would say to him if ever given the chance.  I honestly hated him.  He broke my heart in a way I didn't think could ever be mended.  Thanks to social networking - I found him years later.  I even friended him on facebook just to have the opportunity to get my final say in a 13 year grudge.  I found out that while time doesn't heal all pain, it does soften the rough edges.  While I wanted to rip him a new asshole, replace it & rip it out again - I couldn't.  I got a sincere apology and when I finally spoke to him - it was if we picked up where we left off when it was good. That isn't to say I didn't speak my peace - did I mention I must always have the last word too?

While white hot burns hot and fades fast - it makes not for awesome relationships.  It was one experience though in many that helped mold me to the person I am today.  While I thought I hated Fred & for a long time I did; I have found that there is a piece of my heart he will always have and that a part of me does still love him.  I think if circumstances were different - I could happily spend the rest of my life with him.  Things are what they are though & what I have instead is a rare friendship that I never thought possible.  I also learned it is OK to forgive.  Keep that on the down low though.  I do have a Lioness reputation to maintain.

D-I-V-O-R-C-E

This day had been coming for a very long time.  Since about 2005.  I remember the fight as clear as day.  He was packing his stuff saying "the only thing that would keep me here is if you were pregnant - and we both know that won't happen"  This is funny because at the time I WAS pregnant - we just didn't know yet.  Tempers cooled, underlying resentment bubbled below the surface & 9 months later - a beautiful boy was born. Yesterday I was informed the ball has been set into motion.  Even though it was at my request - it hit me like a hot wave of lava flowing down a countryside.  I know this has to be filed by the end of this year - or our financial aid status for school will be rendered nil because of me finally working. It is long overdue.
We can play the blame game.  You didn't do this, I didn't do that - on and on and on.  In the end though, what does that accomplish?  His camp is telling him "get a good attorney because she is going to rob you blind."  My camp is telling me "Get a good attorney & rob him blind." Neither is a positive approach. Every dollar spent fighting each other is a dollar that isn't going towards our son. So in rare California fashion - we are going to try to make this as amicable as possible. I want my belongings, he wants his belongings & thus shall it be.

The past few years have been hell.  I have allowed myself into a position that I never thought possible & would only wish on a worst enemy.  They were learning experience though and have helped get me to what I am now.  I am terrified of what the future holds because - well - I have never been truly alone. The devil you know is more comforting than the devil you don't & I have been with the same person for 13 years.  Even separated; because of his school schedule - I find myself at his place more than my own.  That will dissipate more & more & I will find myself alone more & more. Even with 2 room-mates - it's not quite the same since we are rarely even home at the same time.

When the judge declare it final - I will be truly on my own for the 1st time in my life. THAT I think: is the hardest part for me. But as Katy Perry put it - Maybe the reason why every door is closed - is so you can open one that leads you down the perfect road.  My walking shoes are on & I am ready to go.  I just better bring some tissue because I know I am going to cry even though the journey.

But I thought I was a Leo.....

I have a friend who is a few years younger than myself but refuses to date women his own age.  He says that they usually have too much baggage.  He wants the wonder and excitement that the 20 somethings feel when a relationship is new.  Nevermind the fact that said 20 something is more apt to dump him for something better & the older woman is more apt to appreciate what she has.  He has yet to find his Ms. Right.  Now I could spend this whole page lambasting him for it - but that isn't my intention.

Since the beginning of time it has been perfectly accepted that an older man can date a younger woman with no desparing commentary (i.e. Hugh Hefner).  Now reverse that and the world goes into a tither (i.e. Demi & Ashton).  I guess the term for this is cougar.  This evokes images of the beehived wrinkley blonde in a leopard print top, skin tight pants & the pinkest lipstick you ever did see.  So imagine my suprise when I was coined one.  Really? I don't own leopard print anything. I much prefer the term MILF. I mean I am a mom & well who wouldn't LF me? Actually dating me though is a whole other blog post.  I'll write about it if it ever happens.

With the exception of my son's father  - I have never dated anyone older than myself.  This is because I have typically looked younger than I am & tend to attract guys that are closer in age to how I look than how old I am.  Even so - I am only talking 2 or 3 years difference.  Upon turning 41 though - 30 year olds have been crawling out of the woodwork. This means - I was 9 when they were born & could have been their babysitter at some point.  In terms like that  - it seems kind of creepy.

Now as previously stated - it can be an ego boost. Who wouldn't be flattered when a young, hot guy thinks you are hella desireable?  The problem is - there is no commonality.  I have tried talking to some of these guys & there is nothing there.  No common interests, unable to understand my sardarnic sense of humor, looooong drawn out pauses while grasping for ANYTHING to say.  Sheesh - I can have the kind of conversation with my room-mate's cat & at least I will get  purr. Sure there may be sizzle in bed, but when it is done - all you are left with is fizzle.

The best example I can give is this. In college my best friend dated a younger guy.  A song came on the radio & she exclaimed "I love this song - I had it on 45". His response "What's a 45?" I think that may have been the deal breaker. Maybe these guys are trying to bag the elusive cougar to mark it off their hunting list?  I don't know.  All I know is this kitty is nobody's trophy.

Confessions of the not so fabulous

The hardest thing about living in Southern California, particularly Central Orange County is living amongst the beautiful and rich people.  It is said this is where pageant & prom queens come home to die. At the very least it is where they come home to defy the inevitable aging that besets us all.  What's a nip here, a tuck there & a shot of botox just for fun? I mean who cares if your lips look like a Macy's Thanksgiving day parade balloon and you can't move your face? You are beautiful dahling.  If you think I am off base - google South Coast Plaza or Fashion Island.  Last time I checked - Fairfield Commons didn't have a Neiman Marcus or a Louboutin boutique. When was the last time you carried a $5000 purse - what -  you mean you don't have a Birkin - really? Your workout gear does consist of a cashmere sweater right?  No lie - I know a lady who showed up at a gym wearing pink one ready to work out with her hottie personal trainer.

The problem is - I have image issues.  I have run the gammit in size out here.  I have weight 97 pounds and wore a kids size 12 at 29 and I am now a much curvier (also read heavier) version of myself.  The person in my head is not who I see in my reflection. I have lived my life thinking I am not pretty enough, smart enough or popular enough because that is all I have ever been told.  I don't know the last time told me I was beautiful or smart or funny.  I was told my hair was cute by a guy last week - but his credibilty was shot as soon as he started snoring.  Looks aren't everything, but in the end - I know that's a lie because I judge just as harshly. I am sure I have been messaged by some perfectly amazing guys who never made it past the picture viewing. I am sure the same has been done with my messages.  We all think we can get better than what we really are. Who wants to ride in a Corolla when you drive a Ferrari?

In the end - I am a big dork. I may talk a great game, but I can't back it up. I can email you & text you & have you dying for more...until you have to meet me face to face. You know those vivacious big gals that just own it?  That ain't me! Somewhere I lost my swagger despite my fabulous hair.  I have never really had the ability to date.  The thought makes me nauseated.  Case in point.  A guy I knew was like my best friend.  We did everything together & were both very attracted to each other.  We were just never single at the same time. He watched me date his frat brothers & I watched him date all the wrong girls.  The one time we were mutually single - went went on a "date".  I was nervous, awkward & it was SO uncomfortable despite the fact that I had hung out with him constantly in the past. Never mind the fact that I had gone to movies & dinner with him on a regular basis- the date screwed it all up.  In the end he married someone else who was jealous of me & I wasn't invited to the wedding.  She also made him throw out the couch when she found out I had sex on it with his best man...whoops.

So I am trying to learn to love the skin I am in and come to terms with the fact that I am not the 25 year old diva I used to be. I am a 41 year old who loves her PS3, played way more World of Warcraft that she will ever admit to & is obessed with lipgloss. I know the men are not falling at my feet like the boys used to do.  I just hope when I find the one who can get past my dork shell - he can remember my name!

Dating Lessons From the Den of a Cougar

Now I have actually met some people from my forays into this dating experience.  All I can say is I MUST be a glutton for punishment.

Lesson 1 - never have a guy meet you at your birthday party.
He broke my heart.  No he dumped me on my birthday - as if the hangover wasn't bad enough. A month of texting everyday, phones calls & I was smitten. He used big words & it was hot! He agreed to meet me at my birthday party.  My plan was to maintain a certain level of sobrierty.  My friend's plans were to extinguish my plans & I ended up stumbling drunk in fabulous 3" heels.  He was not as cute as I hoped -  but damn he smelled good. We made out in the parking lot & he texted me the next day to tell me he got back together with his ex.  I don't believe him, but I admit I was a bit out of control that night...so I don't totally blame him.  OK yes I do....BASTARD

Lesson 2 - make sure he knows your name
6 months of back & forth.  He kind of bugged me & I told him to go away.  He was persistant though & seemed like a nice guy nonetheless.  I agreed to meet him & sparks didn't fly, but I wasn't repulsed either.  I texted him 2 days later where after professing he was falling in love with me - told me he forgot my name?  Really??.....BASTARD

Lesson 3 - Never invite a guy over to watch a movie if that is honestly your intention.
Poor guy.  I wasn't smart enough at the time to know that Let's Watch a Movie was code for I plan on trying to bang you.  I really just wanted to watch the movie & rebuffed his every move. Never thought I would see the day when I was more interested in Adam Sandler than a warm body next to me.

Lesson 4 - I still don't know what happened....so no lesson here
I had high hopes for this one.  I was actually planning on breaking the no sex rule with him.  Lights were low, Cinemax porn somehow landed on my tv and he was in my bed in boxers.  It started with a back massage and ended with him SNORING. All I can say is just WOW.  He woke up when I covered him up, complained he had a stomach ache from a pepperoni & jalapeno pizza he had earlier, promised me a rain check & haven't even heard from him since.  I wore a perfectly good thong for NOTHING!  I didn't even get a kiss.  BASTARD.

the dating pool

So what does one do when they have no car?  They turn to that crapshoot called Internet dating.  Now for those of you unfamiliar with this style of dating....consider yourself lucky...I mean let me introduce you to a world where desperation meets maybe I'll get lucky? 

It reminds  me of high school on a small level.  You hope the hot guys will pick you, while praying the old, fat, balding types who like to fish avoid you while you are stuck somewhere in the middle.  It starts with a picture. It should be a mix of sultry and fun.  Ok lets be honest - if you aren't showing cleavage - nobody is going to message you.  Yes even I have a bit of the girls playing peekaboo with in a tank top with my heading reading "My eyes are up here".  Sadly - ya gotta know how to play the game and if you can't make it passed the picture stage, you are sunk. 

If the picture is pleasing, you read the profile.  If it's interesting - you message the person & wonder whether you are going to be in the hell yes or HELL NO category when it is opened. You have casual banter via messaging.  Then if it goes well you start texting or IM'ing.  Then if that goes well, you talk on the phone & THEN maybe you actually go out.  Very backwards from the days of scaring the cute boy at the club because you are complimenting his T-shirt & he is amazed you know what you are talking about.  Going to Denny's at 3 AM with him & then making out in the gas station parking lot because he needed directions getting home because he wasn't on his side of town and then you end up dating him for 2 months - twice.

I have also learned that it doesn't matter what the profile says - more times than not - the guy is just looking for sex.  Seriously. How many times have I read "I'm looking for something real.  No games.  I want her to be the one I am destined to spend forever with".  This same guy will message you with "Your hot - want 2 have fun?'  Sorry good grammar is a turn on & your sentence was a turnoff.  Another guy with a similar profile got pissed off when I wouldn't tell him my cup size. Don't get me wrong - it is an ego boost when a hot 31 year old is only interested in you naked - but sadly - I need more than brawn & no brains. It seems that in the world of Internet dating - I am just an 80's hotel porn goddess who daddy will never take out of the bedroom.  Funny thing is....I don't put out on the first date - anymore... ;P

For Reals?

June 1, 2011. That was the day my old life ended & my new life began. Til death do us part became null and void and suddenly the dating pool had been opened for the season.

Now this was much easier in my 20's. Back then all I had to do snap my fingers & the boys would fall at my feet. Flash forward 20 years. Add 50 pounds and 1 kid & it's a whole new world.

For example - I have gotten 2 instances of penis pics on my cell phone. The 1st one was appalling. The second was attached to a French man. Somehow that made it ok.

So this is going to chronicle how funny this journey is going to be. Mostly because if I don't laugh - I will cry.