Week-end Update and Sexual "Snippets"

I confess to slacking a bit in keeping you strangers abreast of my goings-on, but I am happy to report that it is due to finding myself legitimately consumed with my new-found employment, as opposed to my former state of laziness.

This week I was able to put my wondering-mind skills to productive use, by concocting a mildly genius plan to score a much needed grant to fund a future project, and therefore increase the odds that a few of us, including myself, can look forward to an income after September ends. When you've spent the majority of your working life employed by those who do not appreciate your inability to see obstacles, it is beyond refreshing to find your solution-seeking brain is appreciated. I really think I have found not only a job that pays the bills, but a job that allows me to truly excel, and therefore bring increased success to the honorable organization that so graciously hired me.

Secretly, however, I have engaged in intermittent email silliness with my ex across the hall. He works for a separate, contracted establishment as well, so I don't think the thought police of the business that owns the building has us under surveillance just yet. Since running into each other over a month ago, we've gone to lunch, and have a scheduled dinner next week. He's a great guy, whom I get along with very well. We have enjoyed trying to piece together whatever madness transpired between us some 15+ years ago. I remember going to his sister's wedding and having his ex-girlfriend go bananas when he asked me to dance to "their song." I can't recall which one it was, but it was a Journey song. He remembers my ex flinging my car door open while he and I were making out in a parking lot after drinking too much beer at a rock-n-roll bar. Maybe that explains why my poor soul ex wound up marrying a half-crazy bitch.

I began today with my latest Saturday routine: fixing myself breakfast in bed, and watching "Mistresses." I was rather upset to see my pretend TV boyfriend sleep with his should be girlfriend's friend. Now what? Is that going to spoil my hopes that they fall deeply in love and have sex a lot so I can see him without his shirt on? I won't be a happy girl if that is the future story line.

After my exhausting morning of laying in bed eating breakfast, I took a nap. I might have felt some sort of shame for being so lazy on an almost-warm and sunny Saturday afternoon, but everyone I spoke with on the phone today had either already napped, or planned to nap within the hour. Sometimes we must seek comfort in our "sins" by rationalizing them with an "everybody else is doing it" thought process.

Once I got up and combed my hair, I prepared deviled eggs, and au gratin sweet potatoes for tomorrows Easter dinner at Grandma's house. She of course insisted I didn't have to bring anything, like she has every holiday for the last 20 years. Apparently I am not the only one in denial of the fact that I am a grown-up, and therefore capable of contributing to family dinners. It's nice to feel young, always... but not twelve! I love cooking, almost as much as I love eating, so I happily prepare at least two dishes for each and every gathering. In fact, I might seize this opportunity to unload some black olives that I will never eat and bump my offerings up to three.

Lately I have reverted back to my battle of deciding what level of comfort I am actually comfortable with regarding sex. It's that battle between maybe, maybe, wanting to find someone to actually co-habitate with and maybe, MAYBE, have a kid with... and... just enjoying the fact that I am a self-supporting, educated-decision capable, adult woman with her own "needs" that feels she deserves a little physical attention (read hot sex) once in awhile... if not once a week; and ideally once a day! And since I have chosen to take the "later in life" approach to entertain the idea of MAYBE having a kid someday, I have run into yet another challenge. Guys my age like to get vasectomies. Great! Now what's a girl to do? Seems my ex across the hall thought it necessary to randomly divulge the fact that he is "snipped." Now, I have no immediate intentions of claiming to be serious with him... but, what am I supposed to do with THAT information? Complicated. Life seems to get more enjoyable, yet spontaneously more complicated the older I get.

Although I did put all of my deviled eggs in one "basket," I have yet to figure out what to do with my theoretically reproductive ones.

And while we are talking about eggs, (yes this is a very twisted stretch of connection) have a Happy Easter my adorable readers!

Soapbox Confessions

I think to say you have "grown up" you must learn the art of forgiveness. I know most people expect you to grow up by your mid-twenties... but, hey, we're all different; and some of us really seem to like doing things the hard way.


I'm happy to say, that at the "young" age of 35... I truly started growing up. When we let the pain of the past wrongs, or the embarrassment of past mistakes control our minds, we prevent ourselves from living life in the present, let alone having any hopes for happiness in the future. Unfortunately, although time stands still in our hearts and minds... we still physically grow old. Bullshit, I say!

Anyway... I've had the pleasure of running into several people I hadn't seen in over 15 years, in the past several months... people that may have not seen me at my best. And how could they have? I was an emotional mess when I was young! And after talking with a few of them, most of us were! I might be turning into a "super sap" in my old age... but there is something truly beautiful, and liberating, about forgiving people for simply being human.


If you were to have asked me, even five years ago, if I would ever consider opening the lines of communication with my very absent father... I would have said "hell no!" and maybe even told you to kiss my ass! But somewhere along my journey through this crazy little thing called "life," I realized that every single one of us has had some sort of struggle, hardship, tragedy, or emotionally devastating event occur in our lives. I realized that maybe my dad wasn't a dad because he literally couldn't be one... maybe he didn't know how. I'm not going to say that his lack of involvement in my life didn't hurt me, and I'm not going to say that exchanging a dozen or so emails with him magically erases any past wrongs or regrets. What I will say, is that just about anyone will tell you that life didn't quite go the way they planned it to... and I don't believe that anyone intentionally makes bad choices. They do what they know... and do what they can.



Does this make it right? Of course not. But if we spend our lives keeping score of who was "right" and who was "wrong," who was "good" and who was "bad," we immediately slam the door of opportunity... the opportunity to love and to learn from other people. The opportunity to forgive. The opportunity to have peace and forgiveness; true happiness in our lives.



Yesterday does not matter! We cannot change the past. We can't change the things we wished we wouldn't have done or said, anymore than those who have hurt us can. But what we can do, is accept things for what they were... what they are... and forgive. Most importantly... forgive ourselves.



Of course I wish that things could have been this "easy" when I was younger, but if I hadn't gone through my own hard times, who's to say I would be the person that I am now? And although I do think it's sad that it took me this many years to be able to talk about those "terrible" things that held be back from being truly happy for so many years... I'm very thankful that I can now say, I just plain don't give a shit! I punished myself for things I had no control over, things I didn't do, things I didn't ask for... and if being blatantly in-your-face honest prevents someone from taking the hard, and painful path... or suffering a life in painful silence... I'll risk the gossip... the "oh my God can you believe?"s...



That's me. A peace-love-and-happiness-can't-we-all-just-get-along kinda girl. And if you haven't noticed, I'm not apologizing for that anymore. I'll proudly stand on my soap box and let you make fun of my obnoxious eighties hair, shake your finger in shame about the guy I shouldn't have slept with, or wonder why I didn't "make something of myself" sooner... because I know if you're reading this, you've got a big heart in you, somewhere (smile!)...


Uh-oh! That big fat clown is coming across the stage now with that big, shut-the-fuck-up cane...

My Vicarious Sex Life

It's a rainy Saturday morning... actually it's nearing noon, and I have spent my waking hours in bed... watching a fabulously scandalous show: Mistresses. The men are delicious and the story lines are captivating. And, I, I am in sweatpants with gravity defying bangs.

I realize that it's unlikely that I'll walk out my door today, on my way to care for a 94 year-old man and meet a dashingly handsome man who wants to romantically ravage my body in expensive, high-thread-count sheets... but one can dream, can't they?

It's T.V.... unrealistic, right?

Since discovering this show, I find myself questioning my own romantic motives, or more accurately the lack of. Fact is, it has been over five months since I have found myself entertaining the rip-your-clothes off kind of thoughts... and I miss them. I miss him. At least the forgotten feelings he so easily stirred up in my mind. And I'm wondering, is it time to find his replacement? Is it possible to find someone who has such a power over you that you forget all that is proper, and allow yourself to endulge your every desire? I hadn't planned on finding him. And I'm still not quite sure why, or how, it all happened, but I know it doesn't happen often... and how long will I have to impatiently wait until the forces that be allow me to feel so alive again?

PAY PER VIEW!!!

Oh my God!

I was in my one-size-fits-all-but-doesn't-fit-me lime green robe, grey knee-length wool socks, khaki towel-turban on my freshly showered head, face covered in Noxema, and...

KNOCK! KNOCK!

What? It's 9:45 a.m. I'm only expecting the cable guy... and he's not due until sometime between 10 a.m. and noon.

I get a glimpse of my visitor through the leaded glass; and he's HOT! Surely I'm just going into some type of face cream induced hallucination. As I open the door, mortified, washcloth in hand, I see the "Comcast" badge. It IS my cable guy. And he is H-O-T!

I couldn't have dreamed this more perfectly. A twenty-something, dark-haired, well-built, young man, with soft, supple, kissable skin... and dark dreamy eyes. Lovely white teeth and a devilish, yet boyish, grin.

I managed to sneak some clothes on, dry and flat iron my hair, and add a few cosmetic fixer-uppers before Captain Cable Cutiepants got down from the garage roof. I'm not trying to seduce him, I swear! I'll just be damned if I'm going to sit around in a gigantic green robe and unflattering wool socks while a hot young man is in my lair!

I will confess to wanting to snap a picture of him... partially for my viewing pleasure, but mainly because not a soul would believe this unless they saw it. I still don't believe it. To add to the shear oddity of the situation, I have my Sirius radio tuned to the "Chill" channel, and a remix of the Pet Shop Boys "We All Feel Better In The Dark," complete with climactic moaning, is playing...


I'm wondering if it would be inappropriate to say things like:

"The woman on the phone told me my box was not responding... what do you think?" (As I drop my pants...)

Or,

"What can you tell me about this Pay-per-view stuff? How much do I pay, and what can I view?"

Or,

"Why don't we see if 69 is working?"

Okay... okay. I'm only kidding... kind of.

I'm gonna get back to my "show!"

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!

Change is on the horizon here in the good ol' USA! What a great feeling it was to vote today. To know that good things may begin to happen again here.

Mother and I went to vote in the early afternoon. We were there during a "slow" time and did not face much of a line. After placing our votes, we put on our "I Voted" stickers and went on about our way.

First stop: library. I picked up two guitar books, "The 'First Stage' Guitar Book" by Chris Lopez and "All About Guitar" by Tom Kolb; as well as "Piano for Dummies." My first "dummy" book. Having never considered myself a "dummy" I have not utilized any books from the series.

Second stop: Taco Bell for the free "I Voted" tacos. Too bad they weren't the taco vendor that was offering them. It was "Bob's Taco" in a neighboring town. Very well...

Third stop: Starbucks. Now Starbucks WAS offering a free large coffee to all of the voters. Why not? What can you really get for free these days? And hey, I'm a little strapped right now!

Once I arrived back home, I preheated the oven and began doctoring my Freschetta Supreme Pizza. I added seasoned ground beef, extra yellow onion, extra sauce, and feta cheese... delicious! I ate four slices! I hadn't eaten the entire day, in my defense.

"Textman" had come over. He looked great! Had a nice closely trimmed beard with a few splashes of grey. I'm usually not that fond of facial hair, but it highlighted his bone structure, which is quite lovely to me. He had been "out with the boys" and proclaimed himself to be a bit tipsy. Textman is easy to get along with, and pretty easy on the eyes, but, having him here made it clear to me how much C.F. still lingers in my mind. C.F. and I truly connected. Something that hasn't occurred in quite some time. It's not that I can't live without him, or that I fear I'll never have that again... C.F. reminded me how wonderful it feels when you really make that connection.

As Textman made a very valiant attempt at Hollywood-worthy lovemaking, I found myself feeling like a man. Once I had "reached my destiny," I wanted him to go. However, he wasn't finished. I thought it would never end! I found myself wishing I had a timer on the nightstand and a list of rules. I decided I would "graciously" allow a man 10 minutes after my orgasm to reach his. If the timer goes off and he isn't done... tough. Time to put on the pants and show yourself out.

The bed was squeaking. Obviously, I don't have sex often, or that damned bed would be lit afire! I could hardly take it! Did this not drive him nuts? Stop! I just wanted the squeaking and the source of the squeaking to stop!

Textman and I have "hooked up" a few times over the last seven months. He has always drifted off for about 20 minutes and then quickly departed. Not only did he overstay his 20 minutes... he was SNORING! I laid there thinking of C.F. snoring, and how charming I thought it was. This was not charming to me. If not a testament to the power of a connection, this was at least testament to my state of mind.

Finally, he got up! He quietly grabbed his clothes and left the room. I pretended to be sleeping, hiding my glee that the snoring man beast was going to be gone soon. Then he came back into the room, kissed me, told me not to get out of bed, and to call him tomorrow? WHAT? Normally, that would be a good thing, but after realizing that I still have a strong desire for true love, I don't think pursuing him is something I want to do.

I've learned a lesson. I am not a "hook up" girl. As much as I long for a steady and satisfying sex life, I truly want "the one." I'm glad I "did it." My brave encounter really put things into perspective for me.

I had to call the auto repair shop again myself. Third call with not one call back. Not the best customer service. They aren't sure if they have the part they need, so I won't know how soon my car will be fixed of its ailments. Ugh.

Tomorrow I meet with the unemployment rep. I'm really hoping she will have some encouraging news. Later in the evening I plan to attend a free training seminar about sitting on a non-profit board. Can't hurt my resume, and it's FREE. Ideally, I'd like to be employed by a non-profit organization and become a more active citizen in my community. So this is a step in the right direction.

Lots of changes in the air. Let's hope they are all good ones!

Let's Talk About Sex, Baby.

I have been avoiding this topic all day. Well, now my "w" key on my laptop has begun to fail me, and the frustration reminds me of my sex life. Hell, sex in general.

While I was doing housework today, I had Oprah on the t.v. It was a "naughty" episode about sex. Children were shunned from watching. Curious to see how "naughty" sex talk could actually be on Oprah, I turned up the volume as I dusted, vacuumed, and swept. Most of it wasn't that shocking or informative, but I did catch a blip that rang in my ears...

"A healthy sex life can make you look up to twelve years younger."

SOLD! Bring me the sex!

Sex is my latest source of pondering. You see, I'm a responsible, healthy, educated, mildly successful yet somehow unemployed woman, who thankfully, not only has her wits about her, I also am blessed to still have all of my parts in the places they originated. But... time carries on. And with this notion that the wrinkles are around the corner, and some form of sagging is inevitable... I feel an overwhelming sense of urgency to "get back on the horse." According to some scientific research, I'm in my prime. That means someday I'll be out of it, right?

I realize I have not taken the best approach to attaining a sex life. The thought that C.F. and I would realistically be able to have sex on a regular basis was definitely impractical. He was much more to me than that... and that door has closed.

A mere "sex life" is not what I'm truly after. Who doesn't want to find someone that "gets them." Ha. Figuratively and literally, I suppose. I'd love to sit and wait, virginally, in a pretty white dress at an outdoor cafe, as my soul mate saunters towards me and violins begin to play... But, this is real life. Not a Hollywood romance on film. I'm not sure he's coming at all, so I'm not buying the dress. Besides, it's off-season for white dresses.

So I'm back to where I started with this blog. Trying to find the answers to the "to do" or "not to do" riddle. A very ballsy free-spirited friend of mine actually posted an ad on Craig's List to fill her want-ad for a lover. I'm too chicken-shit for that! I see myself as the subject of a "Based On A True Story" Lifetime movie after putting an ad on Craig's List!

How does one go about finding a lover? I find it more difficult than finding an average-to-above-average date! Seems that if a woman is open to a "just sex" arrangement, the guy wants a relationship. And if the woman wants a relationship, the guy just wants sex. Are we at war with each other? This shouldn't be so difficult, I don't believe...

I miss the days of undeniable passion. Those rip your clothes off in a frenzy days... when you are so into someone, that sex CAN'T be bad. It's been so long, I'm surprised I can remember that far back at my age. (wink) If I can't have a true love, a soul mate, someone who stimulates my mind as equally as they stimulate my body... can't I at least have some mind-blowing sex? Once a week? Once a month on Tuesday nights? Do I need a recruiter? A screener? A clue!?!?!

Text-man is on the way... we'll see what he "thinks."

Domestic. Bliss?

In support of my "new" attitude, I spent the majority of the beautiful, and oddly warm, afternoon cleaning my house. The entire house. Nothing sets the stage for a new beginning like a fresh and sparkling house. The piano got the Orange Glo treatment. The bathroom floor had me on my knees, and the poops were scooped from the litter boxes. Melon candles were burning and a warm breeze slid through the curtains. Ahhhh...

I left shortly after completing my domestic duties, after getting my car jumped, that is. I finally put another call out to the shop, since they hadn't returned my call. I'm hoping to get this wiring thing solved before the end of the week. Unless I'm going to get an Honorary Mechanic Degree, I'd like to put a stop to my professional-level jumper cable activities! And, since I'm going to have a new job soon... I'll surely need my car to be reliable and raring to go!

I just finished mending a sweater. I had purchased it last year. A nice feminine classic black sweater. However, the first time I tried to put it on, the neckline tore in two places. I figured taking it back would not be an option and had tossed it onto the top shelf of my closet to slowly disintegrate in the land of forgotten clothes. My new "broke as hell" status made resuscitating this little beauty a necessity. Last year, I was in the process of shedding a few pounds, so I kept my wardrobe purchases to a bare minimum; which means if I don't make do with what I have now, I will be bare!

After completing the repair, I gathered up some sweaters from my winter clothes box, and tossed them in to the gentle cycle. An odd thing to do, considering it was 67 degrees today, and expected to be 70 tomorrow. At least my warm clothes will be fixed, fresh and ready when the real chill comes on.

So here I sit. All of my domestic duties are done. So where is my bliss? Where is the charming, chiseled, semi-cocky yet strangely charismatic, dark-haired sex God? Did he not get the memo? Did I forget to send out the "You are cordially invited to toss me about the bed" invitation?

THE POWER OF SUGGESTION!

Just received a text from an "ex" containing the word "sex"... Hmmmm.

To be continued.

Just to clarify...

Just to clarify... I did NOT call "R!"

I spent the evening searching and applying for jobs. Now THAT'S sexy.

(I'm in trouble. So is my sex life.)

And the Funk Funks On

I'm still a bit funky*. Funky is my favorite word to describe any state of mind or being that just isn't excited, happy, or productive. I suppose it is a form of depression denial. Laziness? Boredom?

I need some stimulation! I need some things to keep me busy! Like a job! I spent about two hours filling out an application for a part-time position at the local college, which sadly enough, would wind up bringing in about the same income as I receive now. The tediousness of filling out the applications, customizing the resumes and cover letters, is exhausting! I'm over it! The least these people could do is call you and say, "Ha ha! Good luck with your bills this month! Thanks for the scrap paper!"

Tomorrow morning I place my last call into the unemployment system. And then, hopefully, they will allow me to file for my extension. If I don't get the extension, or a job, I'm basically faced with packing it in and joining the many unemployed and uprooted broke asses. I'm praying that doesn't happen. I worked incredibly hard to get here. To get my finances in order, buy a house, and put some love and attention into it. I've only been here a little over a year. I'd hate to see it end this soon... over the simple failure of the local economy! If I can get myself out of debt... surely this state can find some solutions!

I'm waiting for "R" to call me back. Hoping he wants to hang out for a bit tonight. I'm bored! And I hate to say that. But, I'm not ready to read another book... and my level of inspiration to write is at a low. I've already job searched today... I want something new and different to do! I'm not a creature of habit. With the exception of thoroughly enjoying quiet time in bed.

Things are lookin up for the week. My calendar was empty, aside from my calls to unemployment tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. But, Brian wants to go to dinner (an old friend from high school) and Tonya will be in town. She's thinking lunch. So there is hope for some much-needed social activity.

And if "R" comes over... maybe I'll have some sex! What??!!!?!?! Hey, sounds fun to me! Maybe if I called him and said that... he'd be more in a hurry to see me.

Don't Hate the Player... Hate the Game!

"R" just left. We spent a few hours together. He's handsome, kind, and full of compliments... but he's not C.F. If I had my way, I would be in C.F.'s arms... in bed... for about a week, with room service delivering any and all necessities to avoid the need for clothing.

But, I can't have him.

And, I got a very sweet and romantic card from Ireland today, featuring the artwork, "The Kiss" by Klimt.

So here I am, feeling like one of those arrogant but hot "player" guys that all of the girls say they hate... but they wind up sleeping with anyway. I'd love to tell C.F. how I feel, but I don't want to risk running him off and ruining what is left of our intellectual love affair. And I'd love to tell the Irishman that I'm going to date other people... but what would that do to our spark? Is there a spark anymore?

And "R." "R" asked me what I want last night. A little too premature in my mind... but something I may have been open to before I had become so entangled with C.F. I was sure to explain to him that I am in a very transitional stage of my life, and that I am finally pursuing lifelong dreams. That I don't know what will come of them, where I will end up, and what I will be doing at the "end" of it all. But I surely didn't volunteer that as of now, my heart and mind belong partially, if not completely, to someone else.

I don't want to complicate my life. But I don't want to let it pass me by either. So I suppose my "moves" will have to be a slight bit strategic when it comes to "playing with boys." I've never dated more than one man. And this situation is a little strange! I'm pining away for a man I can't have that lives out of state, travels for work, and is also in a serious relationship with someone else. I'm chatting across the ocean with a man from another country... and playing kissy face with "R." A man who would like a relationship with me, wants to fix my car, and help me with projects around the house.

And all I can think of right now is chicken wings and C.F.

What a wicked, wicked game!

Ravenous!

I'm ravenous! Consumed with an undeniable hunger!!!!

"R"stopped by earlier after he got out of work and brought me some grapes. I had craved them the other night and he said he would bring them. He did. And, he brought with him some serious sexual tension. He took a tour of my house, and in between exploring the work I had done to it were awkward pauses. The kinds of pauses that lead to lustful make out scenes in the movies.

But he, and I refrained.

Until...

He stopped by for a few minutes later on. We chit-chatted politely. I got him a glass of water. He sat on the couch. I sat on the couch. He hugged me to thank me for having him over... and then laid one on me!

Wow. Hot. He's an excellent kisser. Things were warming up, but nothing "inappropriate" for a first kiss meeting of the lips transpired. I'll admit that after my spoiled rendezvous with C.F.... I have some serious sexual tension and frustration built up. He's definitely present in my mind, and I'm not ready to commit to anyone... but sex; sex would be very nice.

The grapes, perhaps the "forbidden fruit" have yet to be consumed, and "R" says he's coming over for a few tomorrow. Looks like I have some decisions to make. Do "it" or don't. That's tonight's question.

Mona Lake is Dead???

So tonight I confided in a friend. And I said, "I think Mona is dead." Which is me, of course.

But. Fuck that. I'm not dead.

I'm just hurt because I allowed myself to really feel, for the first time in a long time... but with a man who couldn't, even if he wanted to, feel back. And as much as I could try to convince myself it was wrong, I know it wasn't. There was a devine reason for us to meet, which the true meaning of, I have yet to discover.

But I know, that I've wasted the majority of my life denying who I am, what I want, and where I want to be. And when it's all said and done, I'll have one last regret.

So I'm here. Wanting him. And he probably wants me too. But, that can't be. So. I'm thinking I am about to entertain the thought of a "no strings attached" relationship, based solely on sex. Because... I am... a 37 year-old woman, that is fit, smart, sexy, funny, and open-minded... and there is a world out there that keeps on spinning; with or without me. And damn it! I want to have some hot sex! Not once. Not twice. But at least, three times... this year!

Ahhh... Drunk People!

On the phone now with my friend who was already "buzzed" about two hours ago. I knew I was in trouble when I answered. Gotta love her. So many "f" bombs... my eardrums have been blown to bits. Why do drunk people feel the need to repeat things over, and over, and over, and over again! Hilarious! She's texting a guy that she "likes a lot" but yet continues with...

"Piss off you little fuckin' weasel headed fuck. I like him ALOT. You little fuck. You little fuck! I love him. I want to fuck him."

Now, I'm trapped in a "tennis match" of sexual-tension fueled text message readings and she is holding me responsible for coming up with the perfect response to get him over to his house so they can "do it."

"You're witty... come on!!!!"

Come on!?! I'm sober, in sweats, and half asleep... sheeesh! I haven't played the drunk hook-up game in years!

I endured 1 hour, 47 minutes, and 18 seconds of that! If I charged 99 cents a minute, I would have made $105!!!! Maybe THIS is my "calling!"

I need to start charging, recording this stuff or... start drinking heavily!

Frustrated Lady

Frustrated. I am frustrated!

I've been job searching... still. The postings continue to dwindle in number, and, I'm nowhere near qualified for the ones that are posted. It's a shame I'm petrified of needles. Had I pursued nursing... I'd never have been in this situation. I'm headed to the unemployment office to turn in some paperwork. One form they need isn't turning out the way my caseworker said it should... I don't know why. But, to make sure she doesn't think I'm happily sitting on my rear waiting for someone to come and strip me away from my meager possessions... I'm turning it in anyway.

Missed C.F. by 10 minutes last night. He had given me the impression that he might not have time to chat, so I went to bed. Only to find that he was eager to "catch up" with me when I checked my messages after waking up in the middle of the night. He sent me some very cute photos... so I obliged and sent some back. One in which I was pointing to the empty and available spot next to me in bed. Theoretically, it is supposed to be unattractive to be available to a man's every beckon call... so perhaps it was a good thing.

My Irishman has been a little aloof as of late. I had spent the day getting a package for him together. A card, letter, poem, "Love" assortment of chocolates, and a framed photo. But after not receiving responses to messages lately, I found myself second guessing him in the early morning. I sent him an email telling him that I felt something was up and that I wasn't going to continue sending messages to him. After I sent it, I had some regrets... but couldn't unsend it, so I was left with the potential consequences. Well, it got his attention, which wasn't really my intention. He has since written me an email and sent me two text messages. None of which I have responded to yet.

What am I doing? (I'm in analytical mode today.) I've got my emotions and energies wrapped up into two men that don't even live in the same state as I do. That I haven't even met in person. Is it truly possible to have a real, lasting romance with either one? And am I willing to meet them, find that our connection is indeed one that I have searched for my entire life... and then pine away for them until the next time we can coordinate schedules, travel arrangements, and time together??

So, I'm off to drop off paperwork. Pick up toothpaste. And get a haircut. My pre-C.F. spiff up. Then... oh help me... then... Todd will be coming over in the early evening to "hang out." I reluctantly agreed to spend time with him, since he had confessed, under the influence, that he has been wanting to take me on a date. I've been very careful not to give him that impression. I think he is a wonderful person. We've known each other for 20 years... but I'm dreading the thought of him swooping in for a kiss, or even touching me in the hopes of romance. I hate that! Friends who develop romantic feelings that you don't have in return... UGH! Such a delicate situation. I really, really, really want to cancel...

Breathless...

C.F. sent me a message right as I was finishing a grueling workout... and for a moment, I thought I was going to have to take a very embarrassing trip to the hospital! Our messaging has dashed, smudged, and erased any crossing "lines." Completely burning with unbridled desire... a mutual fascination of mind, spirit... and body.

There I was in my no-makeup, post workout ponytail, tank top and shorts... and he's now sending me photos of him... real time... as close to real life as you can get without trying to make love to your laptop. And he wants to see me... as is. See, us girls think men want or need to see us all perfected... with makeup and front-page hair... but more and more I hear that men prefer the natural. That's intimidating to do with someone who hasn't seen you physically at your best! I've sent him many photos previously... all carefully screened and edited of course!

But... I took a risk. This whole thing has been a risk. I sent him a photo... of me in my non-glamor glory. Then another... holding a note that said, "I think you are very sexy!" Followed by another note holding mug shot complete with Hollywoodesque sunglasses... lips puckered for kissing... and the note said "Dork" with an arrow pointing to my face. I've enclosed it in my post for your dorking pleasure.

Dorks. We love that we are dorks. Well, I should probably say like. But the dorkiness is just one of the many ingredients to this torrid recipe...

The rest I will save for my private savoring. I'm sorry... but I'm going to enjoy it while it is still fresh in my mind. Just know that we have been messaging each other for 6 hours...and I'm breathless.

The Good Night X

Well, I'm in bed, but I'm obviously not sleeping. C.F. sent me a goodnight message... as he always does. Each and every day since we "met." A good morning, some playful in-betweens, and a good night "x." If the laws of attraction truly exist, he should be at my door any moment.

We have confirmed arrangements to meet in a few weeks. The absolute details have not been worked out, yet, but it's a go to entertain the kiss... and whatever else feels natural afterwards. I've stayed pretty true to my intensified workout routine, and I can see that I am a little slimmer as a result. In fact, I put on a white blouse that had been tight weeks before, and it fit nicely. I'm actually dying to eat something right now, but I'm trying to curb my late night gorgings.

It's crazy to think that next week I'm going shopping for my big night out dress... and that maybe it will spend more time on the floor than it did on my body. Oh. Did I just say that?

The HEAT is on!!!

Sizzling. Everything is sizzling HOT! Most of us know that once "kissing" begins... more seems to inevitably follow. C.F. and I have slowly begun to turn up the heat in our messages. And my mind is wandering, wandering!

It's a tricky thing, this "thing." C.F. and I had no intentions of becoming enthralled with each other... and somehow we have managed to do so. C.F. had written me a very heartfelt letter... confessing that he is involved with someone and felt that I should know, out of respect for me. He also said that he still hopes to make good on our "contract" to kiss. This is where I risk sounding like some scandalous whore, but, I find myself ready to take that risk. I don't know why fate led us together, and I'm not going to question it.

Truth be told, I'm "involved" with someone as well. My dear Irishman. And again, I'm not going to ask questions.

Both men are wonderful in their own ways... and I don't know what will happen in the end. But I do know that I have never felt so alive... and hungry with desire!

Guaranteed

I am so going to kiss C.F.

We have a "contract" and I have an overwhelming desire...

Temporarily Disconnected!!!

Damn't!!!!!

I just got a text from an ex-dater turned rare booty call... and I'm horny as hell. BUT, I'm already in bed and committed to going to sleep early. That means I would have to jump out of bed... put on some makeup, and clothes... tidy up...and...

Unfortunately, he's not the greatest in the sack. Not horrible... he's just the typical drunk guy wanting to get off. And, as much as I would love a hot night in sack... I'm kind of holding out for one of my "lovers" that actually takes the time to desire me for my entirety; and not just my hot ass.

This Pollyanna crap sucks!


(Besides, I just put fresh white sheets on the bed tonight... I'm not getting them dirty for "nothing.")

Two Weeks Notice

Beautiful day today! Hard to believe that it's the middle of September! I was outside in my bikini reading a book! Thought I would get a little color back to my secluded skin and enjoy the weather while it's still warm.

Getting a tan is part of my grand scheme to feel as lovely as possible when my cousin and I go out of town for a show in a couple weeks. It's terrible how much I neglected myself last month. Not a single day of planned exercise... all I can recall doing that was strenuous was hiking with my Uncles, and hauling 50 pound bags of birdseed. And boy... what a difference 30 days makes!

I haven't had a night out with my cousin in a couple years. He was being held hostage by his controlling asshole ex-boyfriend during their torrid relationship. And thank God they have finally parted permanently. So, I'm excited to be seeing him. To be leaving the STATE, and to be going to a great show.

I'd like to shed a few pounds and firm up a little new found flab. Get back to the habit of being a woman. Not having anything to look forward to for five months has led me into becoming a haggardly hermit! The last time I even tried to look "pretty" was for my date with Patrick... and what a waste of makeup that was! This time... I'm going shopping for a new dress, new sexy shoes... getting a fresh hair cut (it's been eight weeks), and celebrating my femininity! I'm bustin' into my emergency money, and damn't, I'm going to feel good about it!

I've managed to work out daily and have upped my torture time to 45 minutes. I'd love to get my treadmill over here and go into a two- hour -techno- trance a few times before we leave, but that would require enlisting the help of a man... unless I can find a way to take it apart. It's currently in the upstairs of my mother's house and it is far too heavy to manage alone. As much as I dislike stationary cardio... I found that I was more able to stay focused on the treadmill. Probably because I'll bust my ass if I don't! I want to look HOT for our adventure in two weeks.

And... if I am going to try to get a job at a Strip Club at the age of 37... I have to bring my "A" game!