When I met "Papa Pump" I was quite optimistic. I liked that he was my age and that we were into the same type of music. He worked out regularly and was into body building.....mmmm I love traps. Anyway, I'm getting off topic. I was hopeful that he could get me off my but and back to the gym. Mr. P was from back east, he had a strong personality like myself, which I loved. He was also feisty with a sexy accent. He had been a professional umpire for 10 years, which prepared him for my potty mouth, crass humor and "curve balls" that I like to throw at people. Essentially, it should have been a perfect match.
The first time I met him, he was full of compliments. He showered me with kisses and kept telling me how good we look together and how we were going to "turn heads." A little immature, but who cares. I was so emotionally starved that the attention was well received. I needed this. I needed him.
As the days went on, I started picking up on things that starting bugging me. One, his roommates were female (not what your thinking, they were way older and um, cough! not attractive). Who has "roommates" in their 40's? Two, Mr. P had a degree in a really good field, but unfortunately, he had yet to pass the license to begin actually practicing in this field. Three, Mr. P. was struggling financially and always talked about being broke. Third, he had a job that was obviously beneath him and one that even he admitted he was not proud of. I instantly went into social work and probation officer mode and came up with a "life plan" for him. Unfortunately, he didn't agree with my plan or the fact that I even had a plan for him. I can't help it. I am a nurturer and fixer. If there is a problem to solve (especially if it is not my own) I downshift until it is solved. On several occasions when I suggested to help him study for the exam, he said that he felt like I was talking down to him and that it was emasculating to him. That definitely was not my intention but I could see where he was coming from. Well, needless to say, this love connection did not last long. I offered to help him one too many times I guess...he "unfriended" me from facebook. I was hurt because one thing he always said was that he has remained friends with all his exes. Ultimately, I decided that probably was the best way to end things. There is absolutely no way for him to contact me....on the other hand, what a baby! Stop procrastinating, get a life, your not getting any younger! Ok, I feel better.....not really.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
You Asked Me What?
Ok, I admit. Ive been quite lazy lately, with the summer heat and vacations and all. I decided to just sit down and pen out some recent dates before I purposely forget what happened.....
So I met another potential suitor online several weeks back (you'd think Id learn, but hey, it makes for the best material). He has an advanced degree and has this "sexy ugly" thing going on....and the fact that he is smart? Well, that is a super bonus. So we start texting back and forth and as usual, the conversation starts getting sexual. I don't know why this happens, but it always does. I did my best to re frame and redirect the direction of the conversation until we agree on a mutual place to meet the following day. I get to the pub early and order a Bloody Mary. After the words come out of my mouth, I remember it was the day before payday and admittedly I had no cash. So first off, I'm praying he shows and second, I'm praying he is gentlemanly enough to pay.
My date walks through the door with a big smile and a smile quickly spreads over my face as he looks just like his pictures that he posted (yes, many men put up their high school pictures, I know women do it too...but c'mon!). The conversation begins with the usual awkward questions and my guy is definitely giving me the look over from head to toe. I must of given him a look of concern because he said: "um can I ask how much you weigh?" :0 Are you serious? I didn't know whether to laugh or be pissed. I mean, who has the balls to ask that? I told him he obviously hasn't been "trained" and since he is just getting back to the dating world, after a long marriage, I would give him some free advice. I told him there are three things you absolutely cannot, ever ask a women and they are:
1. How old are you?
2. How much do you weigh? and
3. Are those real.
My date, seeing the horror in my eyes, quickly came back with: "don't get me wrong, I find you extremely attractive, I was just wondering." Oh god....
So I didn't walk out. I had a drink to finish, right? And don't forget he is paying! My date ordered food and actually the conversation went much smoother and as noted earlier, he is highly intelligent so we had much to talk about. After we wrapped things up, I told him it was a pleasure meeting him and began gathering my personal affects. He quickly asked if we could "go to my car." I stood there looking at him for a while, wondering if I was in 2012, or 1986? I told him no, we couldn't go to my car. He said fine, we could go to his car....This just keeps getting better. So we walk outside and find his car. Its a suitable sedan, one that matches his liberal lifestyle. I climb in and instantly think about an episode of 20/20 I watched recently. Also, as an experienced adult, I know better than climbing into a strangers car. Thankfully, its only 6:30 p.m. Its light out, and with my sweet federal training, I feel comfortable taking him on (oh, and I obviously weigh more than him, right?). So as soon as he gets into the car, he leans over for the attack. I'm bombarded by tongue and spit and hands gripping the back of my head. Ugh!
Sometimes, men can be lured into kissing like you do, so things go much smoother but this was not one of those cases. I pulled back with a snap and told him: "dude, you absolutely have no game." He didn't get what I meant, so I told him. You really need some training. You cannot go around attacking women like that. I thought I was getting through to him, but changed my mind when he asked if I wanted to come over to his house later. I politely turned him down but stated that because I see hope in him, he is welcome to stay in touch with me for "game" lessons.
Lesson Learned: Its better to play games with those who know the rules.....
So I met another potential suitor online several weeks back (you'd think Id learn, but hey, it makes for the best material). He has an advanced degree and has this "sexy ugly" thing going on....and the fact that he is smart? Well, that is a super bonus. So we start texting back and forth and as usual, the conversation starts getting sexual. I don't know why this happens, but it always does. I did my best to re frame and redirect the direction of the conversation until we agree on a mutual place to meet the following day. I get to the pub early and order a Bloody Mary. After the words come out of my mouth, I remember it was the day before payday and admittedly I had no cash. So first off, I'm praying he shows and second, I'm praying he is gentlemanly enough to pay.
My date walks through the door with a big smile and a smile quickly spreads over my face as he looks just like his pictures that he posted (yes, many men put up their high school pictures, I know women do it too...but c'mon!). The conversation begins with the usual awkward questions and my guy is definitely giving me the look over from head to toe. I must of given him a look of concern because he said: "um can I ask how much you weigh?" :0 Are you serious? I didn't know whether to laugh or be pissed. I mean, who has the balls to ask that? I told him he obviously hasn't been "trained" and since he is just getting back to the dating world, after a long marriage, I would give him some free advice. I told him there are three things you absolutely cannot, ever ask a women and they are:
1. How old are you?
2. How much do you weigh? and
3. Are those real.
My date, seeing the horror in my eyes, quickly came back with: "don't get me wrong, I find you extremely attractive, I was just wondering." Oh god....
So I didn't walk out. I had a drink to finish, right? And don't forget he is paying! My date ordered food and actually the conversation went much smoother and as noted earlier, he is highly intelligent so we had much to talk about. After we wrapped things up, I told him it was a pleasure meeting him and began gathering my personal affects. He quickly asked if we could "go to my car." I stood there looking at him for a while, wondering if I was in 2012, or 1986? I told him no, we couldn't go to my car. He said fine, we could go to his car....This just keeps getting better. So we walk outside and find his car. Its a suitable sedan, one that matches his liberal lifestyle. I climb in and instantly think about an episode of 20/20 I watched recently. Also, as an experienced adult, I know better than climbing into a strangers car. Thankfully, its only 6:30 p.m. Its light out, and with my sweet federal training, I feel comfortable taking him on (oh, and I obviously weigh more than him, right?). So as soon as he gets into the car, he leans over for the attack. I'm bombarded by tongue and spit and hands gripping the back of my head. Ugh!
Sometimes, men can be lured into kissing like you do, so things go much smoother but this was not one of those cases. I pulled back with a snap and told him: "dude, you absolutely have no game." He didn't get what I meant, so I told him. You really need some training. You cannot go around attacking women like that. I thought I was getting through to him, but changed my mind when he asked if I wanted to come over to his house later. I politely turned him down but stated that because I see hope in him, he is welcome to stay in touch with me for "game" lessons.
Lesson Learned: Its better to play games with those who know the rules.....
Thursday, July 26, 2012
You get what you pay for
What do addicts say the definition of insanity is? I think it's online dating....and expecting a different result. Blah! I absolutely loathe dating but I love being in a relationship. Unfortunately, one can't have a relationship without the dating and herein lies the enigma.
I returned to a "free" online dating site and within five minutes of posting, I again got bombarded by the 20 year olds. I find this fascination that these young cubs have with cougars interesting but yet also extremely overwhelming. Some are so aggressive! I really wonder if it is just about the physical desires, or if they want to be taken care of and pamphered financially. Either way, I give most (but not all) a polite thank you and move on. I must say they have silver tongues these pups and are always generous in their compliments. Im sure in ten years, when the 20 year olds are no longer seeking me out I will regret that I didn't give at least ONE of them a try......
I returned to a "free" online dating site and within five minutes of posting, I again got bombarded by the 20 year olds. I find this fascination that these young cubs have with cougars interesting but yet also extremely overwhelming. Some are so aggressive! I really wonder if it is just about the physical desires, or if they want to be taken care of and pamphered financially. Either way, I give most (but not all) a polite thank you and move on. I must say they have silver tongues these pups and are always generous in their compliments. Im sure in ten years, when the 20 year olds are no longer seeking me out I will regret that I didn't give at least ONE of them a try......
Saturday, July 14, 2012
I love you, Im just not In love with you.....
I haven't posted for a while because I went and fell in love, but karma found me and he was cursed to not love me back. I blame karma because I have no idea what else it could be. This person told me i was "gorgeous" we have similar backgrounds, history, education, work, etc. He also seemed very simple, smart and has a history of betrayal himself, so i thought for sure he would be overwhelmed and comforted by the unconditional gifts of love that I had to offer, but no. I definitely know that I can be too much too soon. I can't help it. If I'm into you, you will be showered with love emotionally, physically and psychologically. I will write poems for you, sing for you, and want to clean your kitchen. Oh God, i am pathetic. :) I think for the first time I understand the difference between love and being in love. I have definitely loved many men over the years, but when you are in love, you become addicted, desperate, vulnerable and childlike. As I type, my throat tightens as I fight back the tears. It is truly the most painful thing I have endured, more so than losing my sons father. I need to change my karma. I now feel like I should track down the countless men that I did this to. But I can't pretend to love them just to make them feel better, and perhaps that is how my beloved felt about me.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Sexually Harassed
So I find myself with my new BFF at a club this past weekend. We really needed to get out of the house and exercise so what better excuse to go dancing! It also seconds as a means to temporary deafness, something that can come in handy when being a mother. ;)
So we enter the club, do the usual walk around and have drinks in our hand until we find the perfect song. I look around and notice two glow in the dark smiles looking in our direction and immediately i knew we were in trouble. The smiles walked over with their impostor designer sunglasses on and thick accents. We find out they are from Belize (or so they say) and right away they are very touchy feely. I have been sexually harassed since the 2nd grade, and my defense mechanism is always to ignore the behavior (usually dogs give up if they're not being pet). My BFF on the other hand, wasn't to accommodating. Half-smiles and sharp words, she informed we weren't interested. The men didn't catch on to quick, or found her words to be some sort of a challenge because the next thing you know, I get my hand strategically placed on a crotch. Not wanting to give him the pleasure of too much a reaction, I simply say: "Yes, you have been well blessed," I grab my BFF and we quickly exit stage left. "Where are you going? Our new friends scream." "We'll find you later, I scream back." Yeah right!
Not sure whether to be disgusted or happy that at 41, I'm still in the game.
So we enter the club, do the usual walk around and have drinks in our hand until we find the perfect song. I look around and notice two glow in the dark smiles looking in our direction and immediately i knew we were in trouble. The smiles walked over with their impostor designer sunglasses on and thick accents. We find out they are from Belize (or so they say) and right away they are very touchy feely. I have been sexually harassed since the 2nd grade, and my defense mechanism is always to ignore the behavior (usually dogs give up if they're not being pet). My BFF on the other hand, wasn't to accommodating. Half-smiles and sharp words, she informed we weren't interested. The men didn't catch on to quick, or found her words to be some sort of a challenge because the next thing you know, I get my hand strategically placed on a crotch. Not wanting to give him the pleasure of too much a reaction, I simply say: "Yes, you have been well blessed," I grab my BFF and we quickly exit stage left. "Where are you going? Our new friends scream." "We'll find you later, I scream back." Yeah right!
Not sure whether to be disgusted or happy that at 41, I'm still in the game.
Fifty and Fabulous
So my 50 something friend recently got online and within 24 hours she had received over 100 contact requests. This got me excited to go look at my profile, only to find my inbox empty. So as she was going through her options, I noticed a trend amongst her suitors. She had her pick of the recently divorced or the recently widowed. I quickly realized that men my age are most likely still trying to work on their marriages because they probably have small children to raise. Men in their 50's usually have their kids raised, are sick of their first wife and ready to meet their new future ex wife. Yeah, I'm a little bitter, mostly because I really don't want to have to wait another 10 years to start dating ;)
Monday, April 2, 2012
Plumbing Problem?
Several weeks ago, I hired a plumber for some minor house repairs that as a 40-year-old woman, I still refuse to learn to do, even though I know they are relatively easy.
The guy came out on a Sunday to give me a quick bid and I showed him the various items that needed to be fixed. Keep in mind by the time Sunday rolls around, I am lucky to be out of bed, let alone freshly showered or made up, so I greeted him with a big smile, hair pilled on top of my head, glasses, cut off sweats and a stained T-Shirt. Who cares right?
Throughout the bidding process, Mr. Plumber would find ways to ask probing questions and having been dating since I was 16, I knew he was trying to figure out if I was single or not. Several questions later he said: "we should go out for a drink sometime." "Whatever!' I said, but immediately regretted that comment hoping not to hurt his feelings and I quikckly came back with: "I appreciate the offer, especially when you find me remotely attractive when I am at my absolute worst." He smiled and said, "yes, I do."
We made plans for him to come back later in the week and when I answered the door, he could barely figure out who I was: "You look really different..." I wasn't sure that was a compliment or not, as I had just gotten off of work, had actually showered and was made up, hair down, etc. "Thanks! I said, I'll take that as a compliment." He finished his job and again asked if we could go out. I told him despite an 8 year difference in our age (he is younger) I would love to get out of the house. We made plans for that next Saturday and ended the evening exchanging innocent text messages back and forth. I hadn't heard from him for several days but I refused to babysit and/or track him down. If he is interested, he will find me right? Wrong, I didn't hear from him again, but his loss. A friend of mine said my life is like a bad porno. Plumber comes over, asks for a service, i don't put out immediately, so he leaves and I never hear from him again.
Ive always thought that the blue collar worker would be easy to please and more than happy to be with someone like me. I'm starting to believe that I am putting to much emphasis on them being "easy to please."
Lesson learned: Keep business purely business
The guy came out on a Sunday to give me a quick bid and I showed him the various items that needed to be fixed. Keep in mind by the time Sunday rolls around, I am lucky to be out of bed, let alone freshly showered or made up, so I greeted him with a big smile, hair pilled on top of my head, glasses, cut off sweats and a stained T-Shirt. Who cares right?
Throughout the bidding process, Mr. Plumber would find ways to ask probing questions and having been dating since I was 16, I knew he was trying to figure out if I was single or not. Several questions later he said: "we should go out for a drink sometime." "Whatever!' I said, but immediately regretted that comment hoping not to hurt his feelings and I quikckly came back with: "I appreciate the offer, especially when you find me remotely attractive when I am at my absolute worst." He smiled and said, "yes, I do."
We made plans for him to come back later in the week and when I answered the door, he could barely figure out who I was: "You look really different..." I wasn't sure that was a compliment or not, as I had just gotten off of work, had actually showered and was made up, hair down, etc. "Thanks! I said, I'll take that as a compliment." He finished his job and again asked if we could go out. I told him despite an 8 year difference in our age (he is younger) I would love to get out of the house. We made plans for that next Saturday and ended the evening exchanging innocent text messages back and forth. I hadn't heard from him for several days but I refused to babysit and/or track him down. If he is interested, he will find me right? Wrong, I didn't hear from him again, but his loss. A friend of mine said my life is like a bad porno. Plumber comes over, asks for a service, i don't put out immediately, so he leaves and I never hear from him again.
Ive always thought that the blue collar worker would be easy to please and more than happy to be with someone like me. I'm starting to believe that I am putting to much emphasis on them being "easy to please."
Lesson learned: Keep business purely business
One in the hand is better than Two in the bush.....
Ive wanted to post this particular topic for a while but to protect the innocent, I decided to wait long enough so that no one would be able to "guess" his identity.
Several weeks, months or years ago I was with a partner enjoying what I hoped would be a romantic weekend. Ive always felt a strong friendship with this person and he is definitely someone I can be 100% honest with. I think he feels the same way about me, because often he will make comments that initially make the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but with time I appreciate that he feels comfortable enough to share uncomfortable things with me.
So after a crazy night on the town this particular weekend, Im stumbling back to the hotel thinking the last thing I wanted to do was "perform." What a relief it was when we both agreed to drink as many tall glasses of water that we could to stay hydrated and avoid a hang over in the morning and just call it a very good night.
The next morning came without "incident" and although surprised a single man didn't take advantage of the situation, I didn't think anything of it.....until the drive home. Conversation was witty, a couple of funny jabs and the usual banter that we enjoy, but then out of the blue he says: "yeah I ended up jerking off in the shower this morning because I knew that you would be dry." At first I laughed, thinking "you just admitted to wacking off," but then it hit me....WTF? He chose to jerk off rather than be with a real female with real body parts? And what the hell does "you would be dry mean?" Isn't that what the billion dollar porn industry calls "lube?" I didn't know what to do, so I as usual, I faked my way through the few awkward moments we had left with a huge smile and winning personalilty. Inside I was mortified. Should I be embarassed? Should I never talk to him again based on humilitation? I didn't know how to feel but the sting in my stomach sharpened to a point where I honestly thought I was going to be sick.
Ive thought a lot about this situation since it happened and admittedly went through a lot of different emotions. Do men (or just this particular man) masturbate so much that they prefer it to the real thing? As a mother myself, I chose to be open and honest about masturbation with my son, rather than raise him under the umbrella of guilt and shame, although if he ends up prefering "alone time" over a beautiful women, I think I made the wrong parental choice.
Ultimately I decided that this was an isolated (as far as I know) incident and wrack it up to another learned experience of growing older (and obviously drier;) to be prepared and hope that if indeed this particular person enjoys solo play, that he will just stop inviting me to his play pen.
Lesson learned: ignorance is bliss...
Several weeks, months or years ago I was with a partner enjoying what I hoped would be a romantic weekend. Ive always felt a strong friendship with this person and he is definitely someone I can be 100% honest with. I think he feels the same way about me, because often he will make comments that initially make the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but with time I appreciate that he feels comfortable enough to share uncomfortable things with me.
So after a crazy night on the town this particular weekend, Im stumbling back to the hotel thinking the last thing I wanted to do was "perform." What a relief it was when we both agreed to drink as many tall glasses of water that we could to stay hydrated and avoid a hang over in the morning and just call it a very good night.
The next morning came without "incident" and although surprised a single man didn't take advantage of the situation, I didn't think anything of it.....until the drive home. Conversation was witty, a couple of funny jabs and the usual banter that we enjoy, but then out of the blue he says: "yeah I ended up jerking off in the shower this morning because I knew that you would be dry." At first I laughed, thinking "you just admitted to wacking off," but then it hit me....WTF? He chose to jerk off rather than be with a real female with real body parts? And what the hell does "you would be dry mean?" Isn't that what the billion dollar porn industry calls "lube?" I didn't know what to do, so I as usual, I faked my way through the few awkward moments we had left with a huge smile and winning personalilty. Inside I was mortified. Should I be embarassed? Should I never talk to him again based on humilitation? I didn't know how to feel but the sting in my stomach sharpened to a point where I honestly thought I was going to be sick.
Ive thought a lot about this situation since it happened and admittedly went through a lot of different emotions. Do men (or just this particular man) masturbate so much that they prefer it to the real thing? As a mother myself, I chose to be open and honest about masturbation with my son, rather than raise him under the umbrella of guilt and shame, although if he ends up prefering "alone time" over a beautiful women, I think I made the wrong parental choice.
Ultimately I decided that this was an isolated (as far as I know) incident and wrack it up to another learned experience of growing older (and obviously drier;) to be prepared and hope that if indeed this particular person enjoys solo play, that he will just stop inviting me to his play pen.
Lesson learned: ignorance is bliss...
Monday, March 5, 2012
What a rip off!!!
In preparation for my weekend getaway I decided to get a Brazilian Wax.....millions of strippers can't be wrong, right? Ive had one before, but like an abused dog, I somehow forgot all about it. So I get to my appointment and meet the 20 something year old girl that is going to get to know me better than my 50 year old Gynecologist. She is blonde, in perfect shape and with boobs perkier than a good lemon meringue pie. I was already mortified and my pants were still up. I decide to fall back on my wit, charm and humor and throw every funny one liner at her I can think of, so she will just remember how funny I am and not any part of my possible aged anatomy. ;)
She tells me right away that she is the fastest in the salon...I'm not sure if that is supposed to make me feel better, or make me worry, although I hold back saying: "take your time!" I really don't want her down there any longer than she has to be. So before you know it, the warm wax is applied, and a soothing sensation that I haven't felt in a while penetrates my body. A slow smile appears across my face before SWWAACK! The sound of ripping flesh puts me in a full blown panic attack and I hear nothing but pure blasphemy coming out of my mouth. Blondie laughs and quickly presses a cold washcloth on the part where the hair was. OMG!!! I yell at her, letting her know that I totally forgot how much that hurts. She quickly moves onto the next area without missing a beat and before I can tell her how I usually have a high pain tolerance I hear myself shout: "Mother of everything Holy!" "How do women do this?" I say and Blondie insists that the more you do it, the less it hurts. Yeah, I'm sure it does, because you begin to lose feeling by pulling out your nerve endings. One more rip of pure hell before my experience takes another interesting turn. The next think you know, Blondie is going through me like a card catalogue filing system. I must admit that the "inside" was not as painful as the "outside" although I was in so much pain now that I was loosing all feeling. At this point, my eyes started filling up with tears, although something wonderful and comforting in the corner of the room drew my attention. As Blondie continued to rip through my inners, I asked "are those girl scout cookies?" Yes, do you want to buy some? I put out my bottom lip and shook my head up and down like a five year old.
"Ok, roll over and pull your knees up to your chest,"....this is Blondie's next instruction to me. It took awhile for my system to comprehend what she said, and then to decide if she was really serious. "Um, what?" Blondie explained that we would be waxing the anus and then we would be done. "I absolutely cannot do that," I said. She tried to explain that that was the best part. I respectfully dissagree and again revert to using my humor and announce that I can guarantee that no one will be that close up to notice I "missed a spot" she laughed again and then pointed to the wall of shining stones and asked if I would like a rinestone pattern put on my new hairless body part. I could barely make out the shiny designs on the wall, but did notice the "cherries" and thought that if I were that progressive, I would probably pick those. I passed on being bedazzled and tried to listen to my at home instructions when I was handed a glove that I was supposed to use in the shower. I must have had a puzzled look on my face because Blondie said "its to exfoliate with, so you don't get ingrown hairs." "Like a muffin mitt?" I say, which of course Blondie says she has never heard of before.
Needless to say, the time went by fast. Its amazing how that happens during a storm of shear torture. Blondie automatically made me another appointment a month away with a promise that if I keep it up, it wont hurt as much. I don't argue...just grab my girl scout cookes and walk out the door with a new found cool breeze and my pride "down there."
She tells me right away that she is the fastest in the salon...I'm not sure if that is supposed to make me feel better, or make me worry, although I hold back saying: "take your time!" I really don't want her down there any longer than she has to be. So before you know it, the warm wax is applied, and a soothing sensation that I haven't felt in a while penetrates my body. A slow smile appears across my face before SWWAACK! The sound of ripping flesh puts me in a full blown panic attack and I hear nothing but pure blasphemy coming out of my mouth. Blondie laughs and quickly presses a cold washcloth on the part where the hair was. OMG!!! I yell at her, letting her know that I totally forgot how much that hurts. She quickly moves onto the next area without missing a beat and before I can tell her how I usually have a high pain tolerance I hear myself shout: "Mother of everything Holy!" "How do women do this?" I say and Blondie insists that the more you do it, the less it hurts. Yeah, I'm sure it does, because you begin to lose feeling by pulling out your nerve endings. One more rip of pure hell before my experience takes another interesting turn. The next think you know, Blondie is going through me like a card catalogue filing system. I must admit that the "inside" was not as painful as the "outside" although I was in so much pain now that I was loosing all feeling. At this point, my eyes started filling up with tears, although something wonderful and comforting in the corner of the room drew my attention. As Blondie continued to rip through my inners, I asked "are those girl scout cookies?" Yes, do you want to buy some? I put out my bottom lip and shook my head up and down like a five year old.
"Ok, roll over and pull your knees up to your chest,"....this is Blondie's next instruction to me. It took awhile for my system to comprehend what she said, and then to decide if she was really serious. "Um, what?" Blondie explained that we would be waxing the anus and then we would be done. "I absolutely cannot do that," I said. She tried to explain that that was the best part. I respectfully dissagree and again revert to using my humor and announce that I can guarantee that no one will be that close up to notice I "missed a spot" she laughed again and then pointed to the wall of shining stones and asked if I would like a rinestone pattern put on my new hairless body part. I could barely make out the shiny designs on the wall, but did notice the "cherries" and thought that if I were that progressive, I would probably pick those. I passed on being bedazzled and tried to listen to my at home instructions when I was handed a glove that I was supposed to use in the shower. I must have had a puzzled look on my face because Blondie said "its to exfoliate with, so you don't get ingrown hairs." "Like a muffin mitt?" I say, which of course Blondie says she has never heard of before.
Needless to say, the time went by fast. Its amazing how that happens during a storm of shear torture. Blondie automatically made me another appointment a month away with a promise that if I keep it up, it wont hurt as much. I don't argue...just grab my girl scout cookes and walk out the door with a new found cool breeze and my pride "down there."
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Blasting forward with my past
I get to see an old friend next week. I am really excited to catch up and "be myself." I love this person. He is special, funny and the only person (so far) that can keep up with my bantering. Its not just anyone that can love someone like Lisa Lampanelli, Chelsea Handler, or me :)
Anyway, I hope for fun, good material for my blog. I expect to have the funnest 72 hours that I have had in many years. Wish me luck,
Sloppy Kisses,
Meriska
Anyway, I hope for fun, good material for my blog. I expect to have the funnest 72 hours that I have had in many years. Wish me luck,
Sloppy Kisses,
Meriska
Elvis, Burrito's and Upset Stomach
Its 2008, and I met a "landscape artist" on the Internet. We had several conversations on the phone and for whatever reason, we were unable to get together in person. This upset my artist to the the point that he became hostile and said some pretty unreasonable things on the phone. I quickly ended the conversation and didn't think of him again.....Flash forward to 2010, when I have entered the world of face boo and am enjoying catching up with long lost friends. I am the first to admit that my memory is not what it used to be, so I was "accepting" anyone that asked to be my friend. Guess who one of them was? I'm not sure how he found me or how he even remembered my name (oh, who am I kidding, you don't forget "Cher" or "Madonna" right? lol). Anyway, I added this guy and we exchanged short emails, IM's and/or posts to each other. Every few months or so he would throw out an invitation for a date and in my usual lack of trust in men, I would turn him down. So many years, texts, emails and posts later, I decide to take him up on his offer and we agree to meet at a Mexican Restaurant.
My date pulled up in his "paid for" 1996 Ford truck and proudly told me "it has over 250,000 miles!" You don't say? Anyway, he was cute, really tall and built like I like. We enter the restaurant and already I can feel some regret on our restaurant choice. My first clue on how the food would be should have been the 50's music playing overhead. Mexican restaurant, Elvis....hmmm. We get seated and after asking the server her recommendation, went with the Chile Verde burrito.
We talked about the usual topics, including past relationships. I had remembered he had a posting about a girl he had been dating for two weeks, and was suddenly told she was on her way to see him and was in a roll over and died. He repeated the story, telling me that he thinks she really is not dead and had several people in on the scam. OMG, how screwed up does one have to be to date someone like this, and/or what might he have done her for her to go to the trouble of faking her own death to get away from him? He finishes his story and we finish our meal. Both left me troubled and with an upset stomach. I hate dating, it takes way too long to get to the point where people stop trying to be who they are not and the real person comes crawling out. Although often lonely, my gut reaction in 2008, was this was not the guy for me. In 2012, I still believe this to be the case. Or, maybe I am just regressing back to sabotaging. Either way, he was off on another date the next day, so I don't think there was loss on either of our parts.
My date pulled up in his "paid for" 1996 Ford truck and proudly told me "it has over 250,000 miles!" You don't say? Anyway, he was cute, really tall and built like I like. We enter the restaurant and already I can feel some regret on our restaurant choice. My first clue on how the food would be should have been the 50's music playing overhead. Mexican restaurant, Elvis....hmmm. We get seated and after asking the server her recommendation, went with the Chile Verde burrito.
We talked about the usual topics, including past relationships. I had remembered he had a posting about a girl he had been dating for two weeks, and was suddenly told she was on her way to see him and was in a roll over and died. He repeated the story, telling me that he thinks she really is not dead and had several people in on the scam. OMG, how screwed up does one have to be to date someone like this, and/or what might he have done her for her to go to the trouble of faking her own death to get away from him? He finishes his story and we finish our meal. Both left me troubled and with an upset stomach. I hate dating, it takes way too long to get to the point where people stop trying to be who they are not and the real person comes crawling out. Although often lonely, my gut reaction in 2008, was this was not the guy for me. In 2012, I still believe this to be the case. Or, maybe I am just regressing back to sabotaging. Either way, he was off on another date the next day, so I don't think there was loss on either of our parts.
Monday, February 13, 2012
You Get What You Pay For
So I was recently on a "free" dating website, when I got IM'd by one of my "compatible" matches. He was cute and a quick check of his profile found that he met my initial criteria. He was witty and funny and could keep up with me (a skill I often use to weed out men), so I thought I would talk to him some more. He indicated that he has been married, two kids and an ex wife who is a professor at a local University, so he seemed normal. He said he was initially attracted to me because of my education and career. He said he only surrounds himself with "intelligent people." Hmm...I better pull out my thesaurus before he catches on. Anyway, lots of texting and phone calls later, I asked if we could meet. He informed that he is in transition, trying to find an apartment and immediately the red flags start to pop up. I ask what he does for a living and he tells me he is a "life coach." More red flags. I mean, really? He then asks about specifics with my career, since I only put "government" on my profile. I explain in detail what I do, and he says: "like a parole officer?" I tell him yes and then I get the "I need to tell you something." Oh god the whole room has turned red. He proceeds to tell me that over six months ago he was arrested for Felony, Interfering with a Police Officer and Assault on a Police Officer. That's just great. I hear the usual: "its all a big misunderstanding," but he tops it off by telling me that he just got released from jail because he couldn't pay his bond and his case hasn't been adjudicated. I about died. I told him I couldn't see him anymore and he was actually cool and said he totally understood.
Lesson learned: Do a background check on anyone you meet on line.
Sloppy Kisses,
Meriska
Lesson learned: Do a background check on anyone you meet on line.
Sloppy Kisses,
Meriska
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Ho' Down Part II
So after the Fonzi scare, I walk across the bar to where there is a Karaoke room. As I was entering the room, a tanned, green-eyed man was coming out. He grabed my cocktail free hand and said "you do NOT want to go in there." I laughed and said: "No, I think you need to come IN with me." He smile and followed me back in. Among a room full of spandex, bleached hair, toothless smiles, broken dreams and lost hope, I found myself with Mr. Las Vegas. I call him that because as the usual "where do you work" conversation played out, he told me he was an FBI agent. I quickly called bull shit as I work with FBI Officers daily and for the most part, have seen them all. He asked if I wanted to see his badge in a flirty, beer goggle kind of haze. Of course! He busted it out and I verify that yes he is an official FBI Agent. I asked why I hadn't seen him before, and he quickly stated that it is because he works in Las Vegas and is only in town for training. I then show him my badge for comparison and he tells me I win the "pretty badge" award. I agree, ours is very colorful with the Federal Emblem of the Eagle and such.
Anyway, Las Vegas is hot...short, but hot. He shaves his head and obviously works out....I love having an excuse to touch biceps, legs and my favorite "traps." Anyway, after several long island ice teas and after listening to dogs howl, I begged him to sing "Islands in the Stream," with me. I could be Dolly and he could be Kenny Rogers. He refused. I tried again, using my all too familiar sweet whining. I got a laugh, but that was it. The night quickly came to an end and he walked me to my car. I felt 16 again, making out in a parking lot, butterfiles in my stomach and feeling young and sexy. I know I will never see Mr. Las Vegas again, but man what a fun night.
Lesson learned: Going to bars alone is a great way to meet men. If you go with someone else or are in a group, men feel intimidated and are less likely to start conversations with you.
Anyway, Las Vegas is hot...short, but hot. He shaves his head and obviously works out....I love having an excuse to touch biceps, legs and my favorite "traps." Anyway, after several long island ice teas and after listening to dogs howl, I begged him to sing "Islands in the Stream," with me. I could be Dolly and he could be Kenny Rogers. He refused. I tried again, using my all too familiar sweet whining. I got a laugh, but that was it. The night quickly came to an end and he walked me to my car. I felt 16 again, making out in a parking lot, butterfiles in my stomach and feeling young and sexy. I know I will never see Mr. Las Vegas again, but man what a fun night.
Lesson learned: Going to bars alone is a great way to meet men. If you go with someone else or are in a group, men feel intimidated and are less likely to start conversations with you.
Ho' Down Part I
So its been a while and I decided I better get back to blog'n before I forget things....its a 40 thing. So a few weeks ago I was supposed to meet a girlfriend at a Western Bar, here in SL County. I got ready, went on my own and was enjoying a Long Island Ice Tea when I get a message from my friend who informed she wasn't going to make it. The thought of being there alone sent me into an instant panic, but then I remembered the strong, independent woman inside me and I decided to stick it out and at least finish my drink. I purposely chose to stand by the mechanical bull, purley for entertainment sake. Watching drunk girls ride the bull, in outfits that are way too small for them is one of my favorite guilty pleasures. What I didn't realize is that it is also a great spot to be hit on by horny men also watching the bull show. I was standing next to a tall, dark, yet not so handsome man that was dressed to the 9's. He had thick, jet black hair that he smoothed back like Fonzi. He also had the biggest ring on with diamonds scattered all over it and I couldn't resist saying: "Someone loves you." He laughed and said, "yeah, I love myself." Next thing you know, he offers to buy me a drink. I told him it was an expensive drink in case he wanted to rethink his decision (hey, not too many men buy women drinks these days). He laughed and said he could handle it. Moments later, with anther long Island in my hand we begin small chat. We started telling each other what we do for a living and his story is sounding extremely familiar. I ask Fonzi more questions about his job and suddenly realize he works at the same place as B&B!!! I ask if he knows him and of course he does. I told him he does not look like a local and he told me that he was from California and only here for a temporary assignment. I am quickly reminded that although there is over 1.3 million people along the Wasatch Front, of course I have to meet someone that works with an ex. With my free drink in my hand and my usual signature smile, I thank him and quickly move to another part of the bar. The last thing I need is two men swapping stories about me ;)
Sloppy Kisses,
Meriska
Lesson Learned:
Sloppy Kisses,
Meriska
Lesson Learned:
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