Posts Tagged ‘karaoke

24
Oct
13

‘Brad Pitt’ got fat

I caught you up on the return of Pirate Bear, so it’s only fair to catch you up on the “return” of “Brad Pitt” after I ran into him Tuesday night. Saying that we “dated” would be an overstatement, but we had fun hanging out for awhile and I really liked him, so it was good to see him alive – even if I failed to recognize him at first. He’s packed on about 20 pounds since I last saw him in May, the golden highlights he’d picked up in Afghanistan are gone from his hair – now several inches longer – which puts it well past his shoulders, and instead of a tidy goatee, he’s now wearing a full beard.

When we met in February, he caught my eye because he was my type – cute, scruffy and casually sexy. That first day, he was wearing jeans & a hockey jersey and though we flirted a bit, I figured he was too young and pretty for me. When he gave me his number and expressed clear interest with his subsequent texts, I responded positively and we started a brief affair.

The “Young Brad Pitt” nickname came from conversation with my girlfriends. He was 29 when we hooked up and other than the fact that he has brown eyes, the first time he showed up at my door he looked like a 1994 version of Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall. By the time I last saw him five months ago, he was looking like the scruffier Brad at the end of the movie – which is still pretty yummy. At that time, we were discussing the notion of moving our “relationship” from “occasional FWB/fuck buddy” to “dating” but he was really inconsistent. Sometimes we would text all night. When we were together he was attentive, complimentary, sweet and thoughtful. When we were apart, he sometimes would just drop out of the middle of a conversation and disappear. We had planned our first public outing with friends – a real date – and he essentially stood me up. He later told me that he’d been experiencing really bad panic attacks and PTSD as well as depression. I appreciated what seemed like honesty, but it didn’t change the fact that soon after he went full hermit and disappeared for nearly five months – until a few weeks ago.

The text progression on my phone shows my last text from him on May 11th, followed by a 2am text on October 9th asking how I’ve been and asking if I was at his neighborhood bar. I assumed that this was merely a closing time booty call query and was somewhat bemused. I considered not responding at all, but eventually did the following afternoon, saying that I’d been sleeping like a baby at 2am and that my formerly regular Tuesday hang-out had become pretty busy on those nights and I don’t go as often. He didn’t respond.

Interestingly, I had received a report from a girlfriend that he had been there a few weeks prior on a Tuesday night when I was off at a different place with my boyfriend. At the time I wondered if “Brad Pitt” had been looking for me. I also joked with her: “Did he get fat?! Tell me he got fat!” Well, he did. To the extent that this week, when I was out on the patio at said bar, talking to my same friend and she stopped, stared behind me and said “I thought that was D” I said “no, that’s T’s friend, B.” The person walking in the door looked familiar, but I didn’t recognize him as the guy that I’d been fucking for three months this past spring.

He was decked out like the Kevin Smith character, Silent Bob – complete with trench coat, beard, long hair and backwards Mooby hat from Dogma. I heard a couple of guys shout “hey, Silent Bob! What’s up!” A few minutes later, my friend had gone home and he walked out onto the patio, greeted some people, looked straight at me and said “hey, how you doing?” Even then, I still thought he was the other guy…for a minute. That’s how different he looked! I even went back into the bar for a second drink without speaking further to him – but as I passed and heard his voice I felt like an idiot! I came back out a few minutes later and sought him out – I mean, I didn’t want it to seem like I was pretending to ignore him or playing games. He said “hey, you never texted me back the other day!” I said that I had, then showed him my phone with the text. He then apologized, saying that his phone had been acting weird and texts were really slow – he said he hadn’t sent the text at 2am, but that he had sent a bunch of texts to his “karaoke buddies” earlier in the evening to see if anyone was going out.

We chatted for quite awhile and he acknowledged that his PTSD and panic attacks had been really bad and he was trying to force himself to go out. Several times he mentioned trying to be healthier, wanting to lose 30 pounds and how he’d been riding his bike and working out. Okay, duly noted. We talked about his 30th birthday last month, how that really sucked for him and we casually chatted about movies, music and such neutral topics. When he asked what I’ve been up to I talked about work, my summer and the fact that I’m seeing someone pretty seriously – but that it’s a poly relationship. We briefly talked about that and it was interesting to gauge his reaction. Part of me wanted to know if he would still be interested in seeing me if I was seeing someone else. The fact that he made some noises about getting together again and that we exchanged some more texts yesterday seems to indicate a strong…maybe…

The rest of the maybe is with me. I’m so over the moon with my current guy that I’m struggling with the notion of being poly at all. I haven’t been dating for awhile and I took my OKCupid profile down – at least for now. I haven’t really been sexually aroused by another man since Whimsy & I got serious. I did make out with a new guy but then I called it off before it went further. It hadn’t felt hot or sexy – it felt awkward.

“Silent Brad” could be a different matter. I like him, we’re very compatible in bed, he has his own place and he’s not looking for a relationship. I know he can curl my toes and I’m attracted to him – because let’s face it, Kevin Smith is pretty hot too, right?

There’s a big part of me that just wants to be monogamous with Whimsy to see if we could be successful at that. I think we could be, but there’s another part of me that rebels at the thought of being one of his “harem” and waiting to see if he’s willing to take a risk with me. We’re really good where we are, but it feels somewhat weird that he is seeing other people while I am not. I’m not sure that this inequity is reason enough for me to date, but it’s something that feels out of alignment.

Meanwhile, my options are open as long as my relationship is.

16
Sep
13

Eschewing Drama

20130916-120643.jpg

Editor’s note: drama is something that I have been trying to weed out of my life but is a rather powerful force that is difficult to avoid. I started writing this particular blog entry in early August 2013, updated it in mid-November and mostly finished it in January, 2014. However, while loading a photo before posting, my computer crashed and all updates to my draft were lost. I got pissed & put it away again.  Now I’ve pulled it out because I feel the topic deserves attention, and because it feels weird to have written so much without actually finishing something. 

The fact is, drama can be exciting and engaging and blind us to the fact that what we’re really dealing with are toxic relationships. It’s often tremendously difficult to leave those and I could write an entire book about that!  I initially had planned to write three “chapters” that covered episodes of drama in my life that were currently troubling at the time that I started this draft. Particularly, I meant to address the “drama queens” that were actively seeking attention at the time – The Ex, The High-maintenance Friend & The Other Woman. I finally decided that I should make it three separate entries because the first “chapter” became quite long. But then something interesting happened. As I was finishing the first section today, I realized that the other two sections no longer hold much weight. In fact, they are barely worth writing about, let alone having their own entry. The ex hubby & I are getting along pretty well and I haven’t had a nasty-gram from him in months. The other woman barely exists in my guy’s life now  – largely because he has also been working on getting rid of drama and limiting unhealthy relationships. Perhaps setting boundaries gave me more strength than I realized. Maybe getting rid of one drama queen made the others fall away as well. –RD

It’s true. I’ve been accused if being a drama queen. I fully accept the fact that I’m loud, direct & I like to spin a good yarn. I wouldn’t have this blog if I didn’t enjoy sharing humorous & dramatic tales. But lately I’ve coined the term “save the drama for the opera & the end-zone.” It’s just not always a good thing.

Sometimes drama is engaging, fun, exciting and riveting. Sometimes it’s energy-draining, hurtful, negative, time-consuming, nasty bullshit. Too often we get stuck in a cycle of drama with friends and in romantic relationships and it can be really difficult to get out. I have a long history of taking on other people’s pain, tragedy, angst and worry. It’s great to have empathy and compassion, but the past few years have found me learning the boundary between being a supportive friend and being used as fuel in someone’s drama-fest. I’m also trying to learn to not escalate my personal conflicts into big, dramatic episodes. I try to avoid or at least not ramp up these moments of strife while at the same time, not allowing myself to be a doormat. I guess I’m learning to pick my battles. I’ve always been direct but I’m trying not to be aggressive. As for being passive-aggressive? I’m trying to do away with that altogether. Ain’t nobody got time for that!

THE FRIEND  Speaking of crap I don’t have time for, I recently cut a friend out of my life after what was simply the last straw for me in her constant flow of high-drama, self-absorbed, narcissistic incidents. Seriously. I used to refer to her as “my high-maintenance friend” and many of our mutual friends had already grown tired of her conduct and cut her off. When I first got to know her a bit I used to downplay her behavior by saying “she’s just young and has some maturing to do.” I cut her tons of slack. I felt like I took on a sort of nurturing role of confidant who was helping to thicken her thin skin. I reasoned that her hypersensitivity might actually help me learn to be more thoughtful and sensitive in my communication too. How often was my “directness” considered abrupt and insensitive? I was absolutely willing to examine my own behavior.

We often had fun together – she is very smart, lively and witty. But her go-to emotion seems to be butthurt, in conflict or going through some sort of drama with a client, employer, landlord, neighbor, lover, friend, parent, sibling, cashier, server, ex, other drivers on the road, etc. It was ongoing and exhausting. Her Facebook posts were full of angst and conflict disguised as intellectual conversation. Soon I realized that she tends to bully people with her feelings – requiring that hers be validated in a very specific fashion, while downplaying or dismissing those of others.

My justification that “she’s just young” doesn’t really play either. My last straw happened on her 27th birthday. She had specifically requested a karaoke outing and I had enthusiastically accepted.  I asked if it was okay to include my niece who was visiting from college. She agreed but asked that it be “just girls” and no dates. It took a coveted Friday away from my fella, but I agreed. I shopped for a couple of small, personal, thoughtful gifts and a nice card. I also spent more than an hour on the phone with her that afternoon talking about her sister and her feelings having been invalidated because her sister cares more about her new baby than her (my ex-friend’s) feelings. Seriously, it was painful. An hour and a half of her saying how her sister having a baby was just one more thing for her to hold over her head. One more way that the sister is more successful. The entire conversation I never knew if the child was male or female or had a name. It was always “it” or “the baby” and occasionally “the damn baby” – gross.

Again, I give someone slack on their birthday in particular. I was kind and patient and I showed up that evening dressed nicely and with gifts in hand. She thanked me saying that I was the one person who always got her something for her birthday. They weren’t big or expensive, but they were thoughtfully selected for her. One was a nice, carved wood bookmark that she immediately put inside the book that she had brought with her. The other was a small, decorative pill box that you might keep safety pins (or perhaps Prozac) in. It was painted with a miniature of the Seattle skyline and she seemed very pleased to have received them. Ironically, the card read “Don’t be a Drama Queen – it’s just a birthday!” It proved to be quite prophetic.

We ordered drinks and food – I opened a tab with the intention of covering the bill for the three of us plus the two other friends that she was expecting. Meanwhile, I asked if she wanted to sing a duet, she said yes and I went over to chat with the karaoke host (a close friend of mine) and put in our song. I came back a few minutes later and told her we were all set and she said “No, no, no! I don’t want to sing that YET! I mean, I want to sing it, but I don’t want it to be the first thing I do.” Okay, I guess that’s why I asked you in the first place, but away I went to change the song (which the KJ had kindly put at the top of the rotation because of it being this gal’s birthday.) I chatted with him for a few more minutes about what to sing, what songs he’s been working on and general friendly chit-chat. Apparently when I was away the birthday girl lit into my niece saying asking what was wrong with me and saying she could tell that we were over there talking about her. My niece thought this was really crazy and it made her uncomfortable, but I didn’t know about it until later.

Food arrived and was virtually ignored by the guest of honor who was starting to get really spun up about the fact that her other two friends hadn’t yet arrived. She began texting to see where they were and encourage them to hurry up. When one of the friends messaged back that she wasn’t feeling well and apologized, saying she would take her out for lunch in a few days, but couldn’t make it out, the tantrums started. This 27-year-old adult human began whining “but it’s my birrrrrthdaaay! It’s only one day! She should have known better than to go to yoga and overdo it!” A text exchange then ensued wherein she blatantly guilt-tripped her apologetic (and apparently ill) friend. The friend, having said that her head was throbbing and she felt nauseous, apologized again and the birthday brat tapped in a response that said “you say that so frequently it no longer has any meaning to me.” She then turned her phone to me and said “what do you think? Should I send that? Is it too harsh?”

I responded very directly by saying “well, if you really want to escalate things, okay, but she’s not feeling well, offered to take you out another day and has apologized multiple times…”

Clearly, I had not given the response that she had wanted to hear, because she immediately started defending her aggressive retort. She got really shrill and said “but it’s true! You have no idea how frequently she apologizes – it’s just meaningless anymore!” Rather than engage further in what had become an absurd discussion, I simply said “well, you’re a grown-ass adult, do whatever you want.”

(Now, I feel as though I need to interject here – I use this phrase all the time to my friends. I feel like it’s a way to validate their decision to do what they want to do without asking me or anyone else for permission to do so. My niece, who was witness to this exchange, hears this from me often!)

Well, instead of laughing it off, considering my response or taking it as validation & moving on, she changed the focus of her attack to me. She sneered then looked stricken, asking me what was wrong with me and asserting that I had been in a bad mood all evening. Well, I kind of lost it. Years of her neediness, absurd demands and constant dissatisfaction and dissection of even the kindest comment had piled up to break this camel’s back. I finally said something. It’s been months and I would be hard-pressed to accurately quote exactly what I said, but it was something like “hey, you asked for my opinion. Just because you didn’t like my answer doesn’t mean that I am having my period.” I said that she was so busy bitching about her friends that hadn’t shown up that she was ignoring those of us who had actually bothered to come. What happened next what the straw that broke our friendship for good. Frowning, she silently stood up. Slowly, she took the bookmark out of her book, the birthday card & pill box out of her purse and laid them down on the table. She then turned to my niece and said “Olivia, it was nice to see you again,” before standing up and shuffling to the bar at a glacially slow pace while occasionally glancing back to see if anyone was going to chase after her and beg her not to go. Nobody was. She paid her portion of the tab and walked out.

I had given this person multiple chances – far beyond what others in our mutual social scene were willing to do. I was patient, calm, honest, kind and willing to listen and examine myself. I was the only one of her friends who actually managed to show up to her birthday celebration where she chose to complain, demand, tantrum and whine instead of having fun and enjoying the people and the present moment. It was the straw that broke this camel’s back for good. I literally got up and took a picture of the abandoned card and gifts on the table. I save it as a reminder NOT to get drawn back in. NOT to forgive and cycle through the same toxic crap.  Somewhere in my “nice” Judeo-Christian upbringing, I was taught to “forgive & forget” and to “be the better man” and resolve conflict (or at least ignore that it happened and never speak of it again!) I was taught to be loyal. That marriages, friendships, relationships last forever. I was never taught how to walk away. How to disengage. How to not care. How to essentially “give up” on something that wasn’t worth doing anymore. My “play through the pain” parents never gave me an example of how to say “no” or how to say “no more.” I’m teaching myself how to set boundaries that make me feel empowered and sane instead of guilty and bad.

With “the high-maintenance friend” I feel that I wasn’t really her friend. At best, I was a bit player in her ongoing drama but usually I was just set dressing or audience for her little show. The night that she walked out of her birthday party I unfriended her on Facebook. Not as a dramatic gesture and not even as a punitive gesture. As a finality. As a very real means of cutting off the feed of something unhealthy that was draining me with its demands and not really feeding me in any way. Funny thing is? For as much as I am sarcastic and snarky? I’m a good and loyal friend who is willing to forgive a lot if the other person is willing to consider their behavior and their treatment of me. Had my former friend sent me a message saying “hey, I’m really sorry how things went down on my birthday. Can we talk?” I may have responded positively. Instead, I got this message:

Wow. Seriously? Not even a message or a text?

It was my BIRTHDAY and you were giving me a hard time. Wtf.

I didn’t feel comfortable taking your gifts. It didn’t feel right.

Your complete lack of interest in conflict resolution is so opposite from my experience of you, thus far.

 

Yeah, screw you and get used to it. No more blaming me. I’m no longer willing to be anyone’s whipping boy. I ended a marriage that was nearly as old as you are and with far less drama. I’m done.

It doesn’t hurt. I don’t miss her. Why? Because even though I was a friend to her, she wasn’t a friend to me. It’s not like giving up salt or chocolate or wine – those things feed you and make you feel good. I gave up the equivalent of emotional rice cakes. Something I felt like I ought to like but I really didn’t.

 

 

 

 

 

01
Jul
13

the risky prospect of offering your love…

Okay. I’m a lover. No, really. I’m not just talking about sex, dating & intimacy. I’m extremely demonstrative with my friends and…well…everyone. I’m the kind of person that says “thanks, hun, you have a great afternoon” to the cashier at the grocery store. I’m gregarious. I’m outgoing. I say “I love you” to lots of people.

It’s something that is frequently said & texted among my girlfriends & I. It’s how we end a phone call. Most of my friends hug & kiss me hello/goodbye. Both of the men that I’ve lived with in romantic relationships (including my ex-husband,) still exchange “I love yous” with me. The bartender at my regular watering hole/karaoke joint greets me coming & going with a hug. Recently, he’s started saying “love you, gal” when I leave and I naturally respond “love you too, baby.” It just feels right to share my love with these people. Even my curmudgeonly uncle says it to me & ends emails with “love” from him.

Yes, I like to share my love & affection with people that I care about. It’s just how I am and most of my friends seem to be equally expressive & demonstrative.

And yet…you can be sexually involved with someone in the most intimate way possible, have the most fantastic, intense, emotional, physical connection. Exchange fluids, conversation, trust…rim-jobs…and somehow the romantic aspect of that relationship makes those three words dangerous, weighted, terrifying & forbidden.

Oh, you can say “I love fucking you!” “I love your cock!” “I love it when you do that!” and the like, but Lord knows, saying “I love you” to someone who is actually a lover is risky business. Especially if you like how things are going & don’t want them to freak out, get all weird & run away – or to start picking out china patterns. You never know how it’s going to be taken! Or worse, if you will be offered the “I love you return” (as Seinfeld called it.)

Certainly, “I love you” means different things to different people. I think my writing so far gives you a sense of what it means to me. It’s something to be shared. Being someone who identifies as polyamorous may lend to my comfort at dispensing my love among many. To me, it lets them know that I value them as a person and a friend/family member, that I care about them – their health, well-being, activities – and that they are part of my chosen tribe of people.

In the movies & on TV there’s often a big, dramatic, climax when Harry & Sally finally figure out that they LOVE each other and that means lots of kissing followed by MARRIAGE and HAPPILY EVER AFTER. There’s a “love binary” that happens in fiction that often transfers to real-life – particularly with the typical monogamous construct. You “fall in love” and then are expected to be with that one person forevermore – loving them exclusively with a passion so bright & fresh that you would never consider being involved with another person ever again.

It’s not that way for me. If we are romantic partners and I say that I love you – it means that the words have probably been teasing my lips for weeks. It means that you are more than just a fuck. You are likely someone that I have felt an intense connection with. We’ve probably had some intense and insightful conversions. You are probably sensitive, thoughtful, kind, funny, weird, focused, goofy. You’ve made me laugh. You’ve probably made me cum. It doesn’t mean I want to marry you or be exclusive, but it means that I want us to have a relationship. One that lasts awhile. One that we enjoy. It means that even if we breakup sometime when it’s no longer good for us, that I will probably have a degree of love and affection for you. I care about you and I want you to stick around.

Is that really so scary?

(Yes.)

(But I did it anyway.)

Post Script…I came to a realization that I don’t really blog about men that I have feelings for. I blog about the ones that spurn me, hurt me, make me laugh, send me stupid messages that we can mock…the ones that I like a lot? They barely get a mention. I’m going to work on that.

Meanwhile, there’s this new guy. Poly. Two other girlfriends. Really great. Been seeing him steadily for about five weeks now. Emboldened by a fantastic day celebrating equality & gay pride yesterday and during a time that we were neither under the influence or having sex, I told him that I love him. I said “don’t freak out – it’s just a day for sharing it.” He said “oh, I’m not. I know. I love you too.”

The I love you return!

Yay! (<—-my actual response to him saying it to me.)

It’s not so scary, right?

24
Apr
13

but…but…I wore sexy underwear & shaved!

I think I need a pep-talk. I’ve been giving myself one while singing and hanging out at a favorite bar and I am feeling better, but I am dismayed that I felt so…disappointed and rejected.

I know I’m supposed to be witty & entertaining, but this blog is my journal and an archive of my journey, so you get to hear about my insecurities and disappointments as well. It’s hard not to feel a little bit sad when you’re sitting home alone wearing your sexiest underwear after your “date” went home after about 40 minutes.

I know I’m being irrational. But tonight my logical and my emotional were at odds and that’s when my insecurity crept in & took a firm hold. So, after meeting my first date of the night (more on that in a sec,) I went to a nearby friend’s house to change from my slightly more “dressy” work/first meet clothes into my rockin’ hot dive bar karaoke with a sexy cowboy clothes. We’re talking skinny, ankle-zip distressed jeans, cute shoes & a faux vintage Van Halen 1984 tour t-shirt. And fantastic underwear. Black lace with nude underlay demi cup bra and black lace boy shorts. My ass looked fantastic in the undies and in the jeans. I was feeling good and had turned my nervous energy from earlier into sassy, sexy confidence.

We didn’t have a set meet time, but I had confirmed that we would both be there tonight. I packed an overnight bag because a sexy sleepover was likely given our history and his close proximity to the bar. I was looking forward to his fantastic bed and body – and singing. He’s a great singer & I hadn’t heard him since the night we met two months ago. I was looking forward to showing off and flirting and at some point having him put his hand at the small of my back and ask me back to his place. I really had imagined how it would go and was full of anticipation and excitement.

I got there around 9:40 and I saw him right away when I walked in. I went & exchanged a hug with the sexy bartender (who may or may not read this blog and who is dead sexy,) then, without having seen me, P29 went out the side door to smoke. I ordered a drink and set it down next to his at the bar and went to look through the books to see if my “theme songs” were available. He saw me when he walked in and acknowledged me and returned to his seat. I took my time finishing my task then cooly walked over (I’m being cool, remember?) I said hi & we sort of half-hugged and he said something immediately about not feeling well and not staying. He said his stomach was really upset and blamed Jack-in-the-Box. I willingly admit that he didn’t look great & he visited the bathroom soon after. I stepped outside to smoke, chatted with someone I knew out there and P29 soon followed. He asked me if he could get his jacket (that’s been living in my front closet for 2 months) from me then rather than later so that he didn’t forget. Oooohhhhh…here’s your hat, what’s your hurry? I said “sure, walk with me” and we walked together to my car.

I told him that I was really sorry that he was feeling sick and said that those weren’t the kind of moans that I liked to hear from him. He laughed at that, which was good, then said “it is what it is, but it sucks. All I wanted to do was sing.” I flirtatiously quipped “is that all you wanted to do?” To which he responded: “yeah, I have to get up early in the morning…” he was meeting a former military contact who was going to give him a job recommendation or something. I was all enthusiastic & “good for you – that’s great – good luck” and we went back inside. He did his song (swoon, panties dampen, yum…) then came back to me and we chatted some but it was loud and talking wasn’t ideal. He said he should at least stay for my first song, which he did, but he had his (other) jacket on by the time I was finished, gave me a hug and said he would talk to me soon.

Okay, the man is ill. We just had red-hot fantastic sex three days ago. I’m a terrible, greedy, heartless, self-centered bitch, right? Because there was and is a big part of me that felt like it was maybe just a polite blow-off & that he wasn’t sick in the least. UGH. I hate feeling that way! It makes me feel like I’m being needy and clingy and worst of all, suspicious – none of which I am entitled to in the least. But these are feelings after all and I can’t control that.

I also realize that this is someone who is also going through major change and transition in his life and perhaps a bit of depression. He left Afghanistan in January after a lengthy tour – his second, I believe. He’s living off his savings and hasn’t worked since he’s been back. He told me that his sleep schedule is all messed up & I know he’s been looking for work. Or rather, he’s been “being a lazy fucker” as he said, and not actively looking for work. The messiness of his apartment suggests that he’s been staying in a lot and he told me in February that he’s as unfit as he’s ever been & doesn’t like it. Though he seems to have actually put on a bit of weight between February & April. So…even if he was bowing out gracefully, it’s possible that it’s because he was feeling moody & unhappy and it has nothing to do with me.

Yet, I had my expectations (I even shaved my legs & armpits & neatly trimmed my lady business!) I’ve never been good at resetting my expectations. I like things to go the way that I plan them and man, I had some pretty specific and pleasurable plans in my head. Anyway, I was disappointed and then dismayed at the feelings that that prompted. Which sucks.

I will remind myself again that we just had amazing sex on Saturday morning and that he is not someone who does a 10-minute quickie. He’s pretty detail-oriented and last time we must have spent close to three hours enjoying each other. So…if he did have to get up early…okay. Anyway, I like “Young Brad Pitt” and was delighted to have him drift into my life. I hope he doesn’t drift out again and I hope he’s not getting weird. I mean, there’s no polite way that I know of to say “dude, you’ve had your tongue in my ass – don’t go getting weird on me now!”

Meanwhile, my earlier date went pretty well, I do believe. I’m going to start adding a descriptive modifier as well as the initial/age designation for my dates because I think it’s easier to keep track of. So, I’m going to call this one Dancing Doctor Who. Why? Because he is very involved with the blues dancing scene and also a big Dr. Who fan. His designation is R40 – not to be confused with R30 (see why I’m changing this?) No, he doesn’t look like Dr. Who but he’s sort of a little chubby and both handsome and dorky. Also kind of a chestnut ginger – something I didn’t pick up on from his photos. Imagine a slightly pudgier & nerdier Nathan Fillion if you will. We met at this really great speakeasy-type vintage bar in a historic building. Excellent place with fantastic craft cocktails and great ambiance. He was a little bit late due to traffic & let me know 20 minutes ahead of time that his bus was running late. Courteous. Tall. Funny. Nerdy. I do so love the nerdy! We talked very easily for a couple of hours and then he said that he wanted to grab some more substantive food before going to dance and asked me if I would care to join him at a nearby taco truck. Sure, why not? I’m wearing white pants, but I have a couple of changes of clothes in the car. I did mention that I was short on cash, however and assumed that a taco truck might not take a card. We agreed that I would pay for the drinks and he would pay for the tacos. Cool. Good communication. Comfortable. Witty. Much in common. Like-minded.

The “taco truck” was really more of a casual restaurant. Very good. We ate & talked some more and there was some light hand-brushing initiated by him that said “hey, what up, physical contact – I like you!” Okay, that felt pleasant & comfortable as well. I walked him to his dance space and he said it was a shame that I had other plans or he would invite me to stay and dance. Nice. We agreed to see each other again, said we enjoyed it and exchanged a couple of good, solid slightly long hugs and a chaste cheek kiss (he initiated.) Yes. I approve.

The dancing makes me a tad nervous – I don’t have any experience with it but it also looks like fun and God knows I need to exercise more! While we were discussing dance I said that I wasn’t sure if I would be good at following someone’s lead. I admit that as he was describing being the leader being confident, commanding, inventive & communicating moves to their partner and the partner needing to anticipate, meet and respond…I was absolutely thinking about sex.

Good first-meet & my first OkCupid meet-up. Someone I will see again for sure.

I really like the reverse order that I put the description of my two dates in when writing about them. It was actually pretty helpful in making me feel better by reminding me that I have options, flavors, choices, variety and people who find me interesting and attractive.

It’s almost 4:30am. I’m a stupid idiot for being up this late! Goodnight!

 

 

23
Apr
13

I don’t often get nervous

I really don’t get nervous very often. I’m comfortable and confident as a general rule. I treat people like human beings and never put all my eggs in one basket where dating is concerned. Yet…I am full of spastic, excited energy right now that I have to assume is somewhat related to…nerves??

I’m restless. I feel like squealing or talking someone’s face off. I guess that’s what I am a bit worried about. I’m afraid that I will get to this first meet-up with this new guy & just have severe diarrhea of the mouth. I’ve been known to do that!

I also didn’t eat & lost my wallet earlier – both contributing factors to me being a little off, perhaps. I also have a very busy week including a show that I am performing in this weekend – factors? It’s also a gorgeous, sunny, warm day – yay! Add to that I just booked a great deal on a trip to Vegas for my birthday in June and I am crazy excited! Squee!

Men, boys, interests, opportunities, excitement and a day with two dates with two interesting & sexy men? Yes, please! I confirmed karaoke with P29 tonight & I am really looking forward to that! I expect that I will wind up sleeping over at his place & packed a bag just in case. I’m excited. But I need to play it cool!

My former therapist used to give me exercises to help me sit in the space I was in and feel because after a lifetime of looking after others I had a really hard time being in touch with my feelings. Corny, but true nonetheless. I’m trying to do this today. Do I feel nervous or am I just so excited and happy that I’m having trouble not jumping out of my skin? I think it’s the latter, but I also feel like the end result is the same.

I’m a dork. I’m a spaz. I’m not chill.

22
Apr
13

Embracing the Unexpected (firmly, with my thighs…)

Hoo boy! Apologies, friends & followers – I am so behind on blogging! I promise it’s because I’ve been dutifully collecting more material to write about! This weekend was a very unexpectedly good one too! I have enough words & ideas floating in my head for several blog entries. If only I could do a data dump via memory stick rather than my fingers I’d be better able to keep up!

Friday night found me home after work with no plans to speak of.  My intent was to avoid the pissing rain by staying in and catching up on some laundry, house cleaning & movies. It was cold enough that I was considering building a fire and about to thaw some soup out for dinner. Then, at 6:51pm, I was offered an opportunity to go see Prince perform at the Showbox theater at the Market – a very intimate (1100 capacity) venue and a very coveted ticket. The four shows he was doing there had been sold-out for months! The catch was? It was general admission and the doors were supposed to have been at 6:30 but were pushed to 7:00. I live about 15 minutes away and was well on my way to slack and sloth – with no makeup, a t-shirt, jeans & a hoodie. Well, I jumped on it hard! Within 8 minutes I had applied some eyeshadow, put on a “boobie shirt” and some cute boots with a little heel, ran a brush through my hair & was driving. I zoomed into Seattle with moderate traffic for a Friday evening, found excellent (if expensive) parking in a lot a block from the venue, grabbed a junky umbrella out of my car (because it was pouring,) and RAN! I was relieved to see that the line for the show still stretched around the corner, but was motivated to hurry because it was starting to move. I called my friend while I ran and she said that they were just under the marquee and about to be let in.

“Is that you with the pink umbrella?”

“YEP!”

ZOOM! I met them at the door, grabbed my ticket, threw the umbrella in the trash can and strode in to the theater for one of the most exciting, loud, energetic, interactive and ROCKING shows that I’ve been to! The Purple One was charming & engaging, full of humor and wit, dead sexy and had a fantastic, all-female band that rocked. Tight guitar licks swelled and it felt like a house-party jam at times. He did a nice mix of new stuff and yet gave a nod to his hits by opening with “Let’s go Crazy” and closing with “Purple Rain” after a subtle reference to the tragedy in Boston and our need to heal & feel good. Perfect.

My friends refused to take any money for the ticket which I later realized had a face value of $275 and was scalping for $500 easily. Jeez! What an unexpected treat! They said I could babysit for them sometime. DEAL!

When the show ended around 10:45 I was completely amped up and also famished, but my friends were anxious to get home to relieve their sitter, so we parted ways and I found myself full of energy, hungry and…in Seattle by myself with no plans. I realized that a (just friends) friend of mine was hosting karaoke at a bar I like about seven minutes away and decided to go there for some food, singing & company. Excellent choice!

My friend was delightedly surprised to see me. I had sent him a hasty text earlier about Prince and he was suitably jealous and also wanted all the details. My food was excellent and satisfying and the crowd was extremely receptive and enthusiastic for karaoke. There were also a lot of good singers and a fairly short rotation, but the energy of the crowd made me feel like a goddess every time I had a mic in hand. I was still flying high (and also slightly deaf) but planned to leave before the adrenaline waned and fatigue hit. Around 12:30 when I made noises about shoving off my friend protested and insisted that I stay. Then I sang some more, people asked to sing with me and the rotation of singers got shorter…okay, twist my arm!

Around 1:30 my friend’s boss who owns the karaoke business showed up to collect him and the equipment. He is also someone that I consider a friend and we were sitting and chatting when my phone chimed to indicate that I had a text. Thinking it could only be my ex hubby texting me at 1:45 in the morning, I was very pleasantly surprised to see that it was my long-lost “1994 Brad Pitt” whom I hadn’t seen since February but had periodically exchanged some wicked-hot texts with! Normally, I am the one who initiates contact with him, so this was unexpected to begin with, but what he said was that he would be at the club we met at on Tuesday – an invitation to get together again. Also unexpected! Tuesdays at that bar are karaoke nights as well and that’s how we met. The host on Tuesdays is “the boss” that I was sitting with right that minute, so I sent a response saying just that:

“Funny, I’m sitting here talking with XXX right now. He says the theme for Tuesday is ‘work’.”

An immediate response followed wondering where I was, I told him and about my most excellent night & he responded with stuff like “gotcha beautiful” which made my heart and crotch leap because I really enjoy this guy a lot but had basically written him off because he’s so inconsistent. Sometimes he goes out and is an attention whore, sometimes he holes up like a hermit, sometimes he’s chatty & even dirty, sometimes he’s non-responsive or monosyllabic. Also, he’s very young and beautiful, so there’s a little bit of an insecurity issue. Ugh…well, not exactly. I feel perfectly sexy and comfortable with him for the most part, but the reality is that he is smoking hot and must have lots of other opportunities. Realistically, I don’t expect to hear from him often, but am glad when I do. Does that make sense? I’m not putting myself down, I’m trying to express the reality. I do the same thing myself – I have men that interest me more than others for various reasons. But I had sent this guy a really direct & raunchy text last week saying how I wanted to get “growlfucked” and to ride his beard and he had just responded by saying that he was sick and not expressing any particular degree of enthusiasm for the idea in different circumstances. Anyway, unexpected…

Given this background, I decided to be slightly less direct, but I messaged that I was still “totally amped” and he offered that I should come to his place, saying he would be more than happy to have me sit on his face if I wanted. Oh yessssss…..

So this guy’s official designation using my system of initial & age would be P29. However, when talking to my friends & they say “now which one is he?” I say “Young Brad Pitt” or “Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall” because, yeah…it sort of works. He’s heart-poundingly yummy and I’m sort of stunned that I’ve had sex with him three times and slept overnight with him twice. The fact that we’ve talked a lot, watched a movie while snuggling and that he took my hand while walking me from my car to his door the other night? *sigh*

We met on Valentine’s Day of all things stupid and possibly ironic. I had thrown together an impromptu “anti-Valentine’s Day” outing for myself and four other single friends to go to this dive bar that I enjoy. It was karaoke night, lady’s night and they were doing some Valentine’s-themed pub games that were fun. I brought a huge box of gourmet chocolate that my client had given me and shared it around the bar. It wasn’t very busy, but the fairly light crowd was really engaging and lively. P29 caught my eye for a couple of reasons – one, because he was alone and clearly there for the singing. This is something that I do fairly often, so I guess I just sort of noted the kindred spirit. Two, he is sort of my “type” – longish hair, beard. But he was wearing a sort of loose jersey & baggy jeans that night and didn’t look insanely hot. We spoke a couple of times – once out on the patio while smoking. He was a little stand-offish and slightly dark. We joked about Valentine’s Day and he said something about not being good with women and I said “I somehow doubt that you have a problem in that area” – something that just came out of my mouth because he was dead pretty, you know? Scruffy, but lovely. I swear I wasn’t really flirting with any intent at that point. Just being conversational, really.

Later, having heard his amazing voice, I asked him if he wanted to sing a duet with me. He declined, saying that he was feeling a little bit selfish and solitary. Later, he approached me and apologized saying that he had recently returned from a long tour in Afghanistan and that he was struggling with re-entry a bit and feeling somewhat overwhelmed. We chatted a bit about that and then he added that part of why he didn’t want to sing together was that he was feeling like he was “off” that night and not sounding good. Whereupon I had to tell him that he was an idiot. 🙂 Later, perhaps after a few drinks, he asked me what I was thinking of singing and I suggested “Don’t go Breakin’ My Heart” by Elton John & Kiki Dee. He agreed to sing with me and it was pretty darn good and also fun. Later as all my friends but one left and the singing rotation got shorter, we cheered each other and chatted a bit more. At one point, he turned to me and said “So, XXX, what kind of work do you do?” and I had my first little tingle of recognition that he might just be chatting me up. Hmmmm…

At closing time, about five of us were mingling outside chatting and making goodbye sounds. P29 had told me about another karaoke venue that he frequented and on a whim, I gave him my personal card & said he should let me know if he wanted to sing together again or whatever. About that time, the karaoke host that I knew casually a bit but not well, indicated that he had missed the last bus and asked if anyone could take him to a different bus stop. My remaining friend volunteered me and when I heard where he lived, I offered to drive him home.*

*I feel the need to insert a safety note here – this is someone whose employer I know and I knew by first & last name. He’s also gay and I felt completely at ease driving him home.

Anyway, I am so glad that I drove the karaoke host home because it was the catalyst that launched our friendship and I enjoy him tremendously (he’s the host that I mentioned meeting up with after Prince as well.) We’re close enough friends now that I’ve been to his birthday party, we’ve had a road trip and he’s met my kids. So yes, super happy to see him home safely, but it cut off any potential continued conversation with P29 and I really didn’t expect to hear from him again. Once again however, I need to embrace the unexpected, because just as I was leaving THE VOICE’s place, I got a text saying “I didn’t think it was fair that I had your number and you didn’t have mine, so this is me.” We then proceeded to message for another hour or so – nothing big, just two people chatting at 4am.

The next day I think we exchanged a few messages – that was a Friday. On Saturday we somehow managed to text all day long while I was cleaning house and attending to errands. Nothing really flirty or anything – just friendly & conversational – much about movies, TV, singing. I was watching Breaking Bad on Netflix for the first time and we spent a lot of time on that subject. Later, he went out to sing and I was a little bummed that he didn’t invite me to join since I had let him know that I didn’t have plans. Oddly, however, he continued to text me while he was at the bar & throughout the evening. Finally, around midnight, he sent an adorable text that said: “So since I have some alcohol in me now and less fear, were you hitting on me the other night because that’s the vibe I was getting but my people skills are off since getting back.” My response went like this: “Generally speaking, yes. But I legitimately wouldn’t mind singing, chatting, etc. either.” (SEND) “But yeah, I gave you my number because you seemed interesting, sexy and what the fuck? I’m a single, grown-ass adult. :)” (SEND) “But I am also gifted with a very pragmatic sense of reality in that I am aware that I am a certain age and a certain flavor.” (SEND) He indicated an interest in the hanging out and said he wasn’t looking for anything remotely serious but was disappointed when I gave THE VOICE a ride home because he wanted to talk a little more and at least make out with me. The he followed that with “And I could care less about age and usually prefer a woman with some meat on her bones.”  I told him that I was pleasantly surprised to have heard from him and that I’m usually not so forward with morose men in bars. More conversation about expectations followed and he mentioned getting together to sing or for movies the following day (which we had discussed previously.) Finally, I just went for it and asked what he was doing right that minute. It was 12:45 by that time, but we’d been essentially flirting all day and he seemed to have tapped into his direct & flirty zone, so I went with it. I said that he should come over then and stay for movies the next day. He agreed.

This is my favorite part in what’s essentially a three-parter of an entry & becoming very long, I realize. He offered to bring food, mixers – very polite. I gave him my address & he headed over. I heard him pull up earlier than I expected & went to answer the door. OH MAN!  I mean, my God, this guy was cute with his scruffy hair & beard in the bar, with the hockey jersey or whatever. But what showed up at my door? I pretty much needed to mop my floor because I think I squirted right then & there. Wavy light brown hair with blonde highlights pulled back into a neat ponytail. Gorgeous distressed leather jacket over a dark dress shirt & black tee. Jeans that hugged all the right spots and beautiful, broken-in, leather cowboy boots (but not the gross kind that are too decorative.) He was seriously beautiful and I was going to make the sex with him. OH> MY> GOD!

So yeah, that we did and it was also unexpectedly amazingly excellent. I mean, I figured it would be good and nice and pleasant and maybe even fun. I didn’t expect someone that young to take command like he did, to be as oral as he was or to be so complimentary or responsive. He was very generous and kept saying my name and telling me how beautiful I was or how much he loved this or that. I was surprised to find that when it was my turn to give him some oral – after enjoying some beard-soakingly-good cunnilingus and analingus – that he wasn’t actually hard. Of course I knew that he’d been drinking a bit, but still, it was unexpected. Turns out, he just needs a rough touch. He likes it very physical and he growls in appreciation when you hit it right, which apparently I did. He’s a grower not a shower and I was quite happy that his little mushroom sprouted into a fine specimen of manhood to match the rest of him. We had some really exceptional sex that was downright fantastic for first-time stuff and here’s young Brad Pitt under me apologizing because he came too quick and it had really been awhile. Dudes, he did not come too quickly and he was a genius with mouth, tongue, fingers and beard. Crikey. So delicious was he that I had to have him again around 8am and then then I asked him to settle a bar bet by telling me how old he was. By this time I already figured he was a little bit older than I had originally thought, but yeah, he’s 29. I still qualify as a cougar I guess. 🙂 Later, he slept until nearly 1 – while I occasionally watched him because his serene face was simply beautiful to look at. When he woke we actually watched the movie that had more or less been sex pretense – that was nice. We cuddled and kissed a bit more too – again, not typical morning-after behavior, right? But that was the last time I saw him for two months. Yes, there were messages – some very raunchy and sexy, but we didn’t re-connect until Friday.

Well, Saturday morning, I guess. By the time I got to his place it was around 2:30am. I asked if I could bring anything and he said “just you” and he directed me to a lot where I could park overnight and until 5pm the next day. Oh, okay. I guess I’m staying over, huh? YAY! I was having trouble finding the lot he’d directed me to, so I pulled over & sent him a text. The knock on my passenger-side window caused me to let loose a Jamie Lee Curtis-like scream and a string of swear words and there he was, chuckling and telling me that I need to relax. But how can I relax when you look delicious in that cowboy hat and…oh yum. He hopped in and directed me to park then insisted on paying the fee because I was his guest. Nice. Walking to his place he took my hand. Also nice. Hi, how have you been? 🙂

Continuing our “unexpected” theme I have to kick myself in the ass for my preconceived ideas. I expected his place to be a tiny little walk-up apartment. Not so. Brand new building, beautifully decorated, him on the 5th floor. Granted, his place was a complete mess, but it was beautiful and the best part was his gorgeous king-sized Tempurpedic mattress and leather headboard. He said that after years of sleeping in crappy quarters that he splurged on the bed and that it was amazing. It was. He was.

I was sore from standing during Prince and he helped me take my boots off and massaged my feet. Then he guided me down on the bed, climbed on me and started massaging my back and shoulders. Of course, the least I could do was insist on getting naked so that he could do a more thorough job – which he did. Soon we were both naked and making out like crazy. I was reminded how much this man loves to eat pussy in very short order. Seriously, it was all about me and he ate like a starving man. No polite clit-licking this – we’re talking noisy, sloppy, full-face slurping interspersed with comments about how delicious I was. After I soaked his beard a few times I had to take an opportunity to taste myself on him and clean up his face. I am in fact pretty delicious – especially on his lips. When I took a turn giving him some oral attention – remembering that he likes a rough touch – he insisted that I should sit on his face while sucking his cock because he wanted more of me. God. Damn.

After a long time in this configuration, he let me know when it was time for one of my condoms and I put it on him with my mouth while he moaned. I let him choose the position and he opted for me on top. We did that for a good long while with lots of feedback from him again but in my enthusiasm, he fell out at one point and we had a little trouble getting him re-situated so he flipped me over and started going to work on my pussy & ass with his mouth & fingers again. I think I finally just died and went to heaven because eventually I came in a torrent and laid back and said “shattered” which made him laugh and say that he was glad I enjoyed it.

Now, with older men, I’ve witnessed a fair bit of embarrassment if not frustration if they are unable to perform. Not so with P29. He calmly and with good humor said that his dick was being stubborn, cited the many drinks that he had had earlier and seemed nonplussed by it. I stroked his body & played with his nipples while he sucked air in his teeth and then said that I was more than happy to try to offer further “encouragement” if that’s what he wanted, but that I didn’t want to pressure him if he didn’t think he was up to the task. He said he liked what I was doing and didn’t feel pressured and would let me know if he couldn’t. So…I set to work with my mouth in a way that he immediately responded to very favorably.

One more unexpected moment – if, at my age and level of experience someone does something unique that I’ve never had anyone do before? That’s very surprising. This guy? Full of surprises. Simply being as genuinely oral as he is is a surprising and unusual treat. The ass-play is also a bit of a unique treat – particularly because I enjoy a little bit of play but am not really a fan of a full-on butt reaming. This guy is really great at giving direction – both verbally and non-verbally. I’m usually a little bit dominant, particularly with someone new and this was only our second time being together so it was fascinating that he was able to lead and direct me so well. The “oh, hey – that’s different” moment came when I was sucking him off and he once again asked me to get into a 69 position with me on top. Seriously – he didn’t just want me to blow him, he wanted me to sit on his face while doing so. I was doing some of my best work and would sometimes ease up on the full business in order to concentrate on the tip. If I did this for very long he would wrap his leg around my head and gently push my head back down his length to take him deep. He did this twice and I thought it was both athletic and also clever – he never had to use his hands that were so busy elsewhere.

Eventually, I managed to even distract him from that task which he was enjoying so much. When he came it was loud and very long with full body spasm and ongoing shudders and many a “holy shit” “oh fuck” and such uttered. I responded with his line that I was glad that he enjoyed it.

He was quite clear about having me stay over, but didn’t seem interested in fooling around in the morning but he did insist on walking me to my car like the gentleman I am discovering him to be. We’re supposed to be meeting tomorrow night but it’s very loose & casual. That’s what I struggle with where this one is concerned. I don’t want to make a big deal of things, but I would like to be able to plan and enjoy time together. I guess I fear that I am just a drunk booty call – which I’m not completely opposed to considering how good the sex is. However, I like him as a person as well and wouldn’t mind having that comfort level to say “hey, do you want to do XYZ?” without feeling like maybe I was imposing. Frankly, the fact that I feel that way pisses me off for a couple of reasons. One, he’s never been anything but nice, kind, generous, complimentary, gentlemanly and honest with me. I like that, but I have also had him be non-responsive to texts or respond minimally. It’s frustrating. I feel like this may be one reason that I am more suited to a polyamorous model for relationships. I love it when I can say “yeah, I had a date Friday” to someone that I am involved with and have it not be a weird thing. It’s very liberating. (It’s also a future blog topic!)

Which leads me to tomorrow – when I’m meeting someone new for happy hour at 5pm and hopefully still meeting up with P29 around 9pm. In any case I will bring an overnight bag and my handy-dandy non-latex condoms just in case. And maybe I’ll take a vitamin too – 29-year-olds are exhausting! 😉

19
Mar
13

first meets and first meats

Man, chatting with three different men at the same time on POF does not help get a new blog post out! Facebook has also been hopping and drawing my attention away from my task at hand. Sometimes I feel so popular, other times so very solitary. I think this new world of social media contributes to that – we are always connected to others and yet can be very alone at the same time.

I added a static front page to my blog with my little “who is” bio. Tell me if it sucks. I just couldn’t figure out how to display my little cartoon image as a header without changing my theme. I swear I could get lost in trying to figure out the mechanics of page layout, but again, that takes me away from what I’m supposed to be doing here – writing!

This week has brought lots of texting, messaging & chatting with various men but not much 1:1 in-person interaction. I have a coffee date set for Thursday and a dinner, movie, sleepover date set for Friday though. Different fellas, naturally. My new “booty call” fuck buddy from the casino who wanted to be my regular sex slave? He put his hip out playing basketball on Sunday and is in agonizing pain. I’m thinking he’s going to be on injured reserve for awhile. How depressing! I like to have an active roster if I can. 😉 I told him that I was sorry that I broke him.

While I have a bit of a break from new adventures, I thought I would take the opportunity to get back to the progression of the online dating thing. After setting up my safety rules and evaluating my intent, I went back to chatting with and trying to meet folks. At first I was open to pretty much anyone that lived locally and asked. I quickly learned to be more selective and frankly, to be somewhat harsh. Online dating is very different than dating organically in the real world! The expectations are multiplied and inhibitions reduced!

I certainly talked to some scary, amusing, horrifying, interesting and colorful characters. More on that in another blog, for sure! Terrible pick-up lines and POF horror stories abound! But the first few meet-ups were pretty pathetic too. I blame myself to some extent. Being willing to give anyone a shot, staying too long, talking too long, seeming interested when you’re really not – these were my sins in the early days. I had to learn to say no and to get out before the guy starts picking out our wedding colors. God, do I sound like a man or what? But that’s sort of the problem. So many men see me as a nice, comfortable, middle-aged lady who probably makes a good pot-roast and would let them touch my boobies every so often.  While this may certainly be true, I also felt like there was a certain element of “oh, a fat girl won’t mind if I am a complete loser who makes no effort whatsoever.” There seemed to be guys that didn’t care whether we had anything in common or not, but who were just happy if I was willing to settle for them because they were willing to settle for me.

That sounds harsh, I guess, but since I was new to the scene, I didn’t realize that I didn’t have to settle at all – that I would eventually be inundated with offers from all sorts of men and that I would be able to be selective about who I wanted to spend my time with. Also, I hadn’t had sex in months and I will admit, I wasn’t feeling very picky. My mistake!

My first meet-ups were with C37, C41, H46, B36 & later N42.

C37 was cute enough in his pictures – somewhat sporty and a little bit of a bigger body type. I enjoyed talking to him on the phone, but he was a little bit um, “urban” I guess. I mean, one of those white boys who says “sup” and wears backwards caps, I guess? He would text from work and that was nice. We had a good dialogue and a little flirtation, but he was always talking about his medical stuff – headaches, blood pressure, blood sugar level, going to the doctor – and then he would mention that he was having another red bull and going out for a smoke. So maybe not the sharpest tool in the box, but I was looking for a tool in my box, so…I met him. In person he was much bigger than photos led me to believe. This is not a deal-breaker for me, but he was a bit pear-shaped and short. He also seemed to chain-smoke and talked with a perpetually “stuffy nose” sound that was a bit annoying. Turns out that was due to a major car accident he was in that contributes to the headaches as well. I wasn’t very attracted, but we shared a hug and made plans to get together again for dinner and football. I like to think that the person that I have evolved into since last summer would probably not have even given this guy my number, let alone set up a future meeting. C37 canceled our first planned evening due to some drama involving some female friend and her son that were in an abusive situation. Okay, that’s something that I can respect that also maybe puts up some red flags. Our second attempt was going to be dinner at his place and watching football afterwards.  What happened to my safety rules? Well, I had his name, address, phone number, place of employment, we’d met and I wanted to have sex and figured he would do! However, as I was on my way to his place and stuck in traffic, I called him to let him know that I would be later than expected. He then proceeded to do this moaning little bit about how if I would rather just cancel it was fine. He understood if I didn’t want to come over. I told him that wasn’t the situation, but his constant whining was beginning to get on my nerves, so I took the given opportunity to cancel and went with my gut – which said enough was enough with this guy! We chatted a few more times out of politeness in communicating the disinterest, but that was it for him.

C41 was probably my first “immediate friend zone” guy. He was short and trim and not at all my typical body type, but he was smart and very goofy. I like that a lot. We’d messaged a few times and one Friday when we were both online he asked what I was up to and I said I was thinking of hitting the casino or finding some karaoke. He said he was heading out to do karaoke and a quick meet-up happened. It was too loud to talk too much, but it was great karaoke and I credit him for introducing me to the place! We had fun but I think we defined “no chemistry” – which is actually okay too. I want to meet friends as well. I was more than a little bit put off by the fact that he had two very young children and had only been separated for two weeks! Yikes! Still, I heard from him again recently and we exchanged a few messages. I could see us being friends, but I don’t think either of us was particularly entranced by the other. Though I got my first “cougar” text on my drive home from meeting this guy. Most interesting story – for another blog entry!

H46 – I don’t even remember his real name. That’s horrible! I even checked my contacts. I can still see his profile on POF, but I can’t remember the name of my first coffee meet! Ugh! This one was my fault. I really led him on and I feel bad. This guy showed up for coffee and filled the doorway – he was a mountain of a man – height and weight both. While very nice and very attracted to me – as he stated quite clearly – I wasn’t very attracted and our coffee talk revealed that he was very conservative among other things that didn’t click with me. A few Obama jokes and I was just about done, but we were both talkers and our coffee wound up being almost three hours long. I take responsibility for that. I gave him the impression that it was going well when in fact, I had just given us enough time to discover what didn’t work. Also, I kept thinking that he reminded me of someone and I couldn’t put my finger on who. Finally I did. My deceased father-in-law. Ugh. No. If there was any hope of anything happening with him (which there wasn’t) that had just put the nail in the coffin. He asked me to go for a walk or to dinner to turn our meeting into a date but I declined. Later I sent him an email saying what a pleasure it was to have met him and I hoped that we could be friends, but that his resemblance to my FIL was disconcerting and I couldn’t imagine a romance resulting. I also made some rather nice statements about him reminding me that my son got his beautiful eyes from my FIL and such. I was very complimentary and nice but he was quite pissed and told me it was “my loss” and we most certainly did not become friends after that.

B36 was a big, goofy teddy bear of a guy with piercing blue eyes and a winning smile. We messaged for a few days before exchanging numbers and then texted often. He would send me messages saying “hey beautiful” and we made plans to meet for coffee or a drink after he got off from work on Memorial Day. However, as it happened, his relief at work called in and quit and he was stuck providing security at a local office complex. He had been up for a long time, had been working for 12 hours and was enjoying the holiday pay and overtime but was dismayed at not getting to see me. He kept me posted on updates from his dispatcher, but it looked like it wasn’t going to happen. He kept us both entertained by sending funny little pictures and videos of himself at work. He joked about me bringing him some coffee. One of the photos he sent clearly showed the logo of the place he was providing security for so I looked it up and went to go get him some coffee. I figure he’s security, right? I messaged him right before I got there and he was thrilled. We met in the parking lot for coffee. He was a big guy, but he wore it well by being both broad and tall. I thought he was pretty sexy and the feeling seemed mutual. Before long we were exchanging kisses. Soon, we were making out. He also loved to put his hands on my neck and shoulders – which makes me crazy. And licking. He was a licker – tonguing my neck and ear like a starving man. I could only imagine the other things that tongue could do. Man, it had been SO LONG since I had had sex and even longer since I had been that turned on! He was still working though, and still waiting to hear about someone coming to relieve him. Finally, the call came that someone would be there in about 30 minutes. We discussed whether to try to meet another time or what. I knew he was exhausted but he didn’t care – he still wanted to spend time with me. I invited him to come to my place. I was ready for some SEX! 

Eventually, he followed me back to my place. I did manage to get his full name and let my friend know that I was bringing him home before doing so – safety first! This was the first guy that I had brought home to my new place. He grew up in my neighborhood and knew it well. I was looking forward to that tongue in action but besides some making out, there wasn’t a further demonstration. He was tired and I was absolutely understanding. He wasn’t tremendously endowed either – a slight disappointment, but I was still looking forward to having it in me! Yay! We got the condom applied and lined up the shot and he was having trouble getting in. I opted for rear-entry due to our size and to get maximum use out of his finger-sized member. On the third failed attempt at entry he said “sorry” and then lay back on the bed. Ugh! Frustrating! I figured I would have to take charge of the situation…until I realized what he was apologizing for. He’d cum without ever making it inside of me. Oh MAN! Goddammit! I was so annoyed! But I managed to keep it mostly to myself while being very understanding about the fact that it had “been a long time” and that he was really tired from working so long. Okay, go to sleep and let’s try in the morning, yeah? No. Instead he talked my face off about conservative politics, his female roommate, his cat, more conservative politics, how he was a pro-Life Republican and I was an idiot. Hey bub, if you are suddenly so full of energy, how about putting that tongue to better use than talking bullshit? Jeez what a disappointment! We tried to get together again. He would text me with “hey sexy” and “hey beautiful” and we would make tentative plans that he never seemed to follow through on. He didn’t have enough money to put gas in his stupid monster truck, they cut his hours, or worst, “sounds good – I’ll let you know” followed by…nothing. Seriously. The guy’s last words to me were “okay, beautiful.” After that? I didn’t bother.

Seriously though, both B36 & N42 (whom we will talk about later,) were invited over to my place for food that I bought and cooked, football and sex. Both stood me up. What kind of man turns down food, football & sex? I tell you, it’s the kind I don’t want to mess with anymore! Buh-bye! NEXT!

 




Categories

Quickies with the Risqué Divorcée!

  • Facebook "It looks like you're at Burger King. Check in to share with your friends." Me: shut the fuck up, Facebook! 2 years ago
  • RT @amyisprettycool: Ok, who wrote the Melissa McCarthy as Sean Spicer #SNL sketch because they just made America great again 2 years ago
  • RT @LuvPug: My husband thinks it's so cute when I speak to him with terms of endearment like 'honey' or 'cockblocker' 2 years ago
  • RT @SondraDeeMe: I've always had a soft spot in my heart for female T-Rex because the tampon insertion must've been really difficult. 2 years ago
  • RT @joss: To everyone who keeps saying "Go back to making jokes/films/etc", WHAT DO YOU THINK WE WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING 2 years ago