How You Doin’ Blondie?


To The Dogs
June 7, 2008, 9:45 am
Filed under: dating, Life, Men, relationships | Tags: , , ,

I met a guy a couple nights ago, while I was out walking Cody.

Well, actually, I’d met him twice before, but he hadn’t made a “move” until this most recent encounter.

The first time I met him I actually walked away from the experience thinking he must be gay, since I didn’t catch him looking at my tits even once.

Apparently, I was wrong.

A couple nights ago when we ran into each other, he walked me back to my house, asked me for my phone number, and suggested on Saturday we take the dogs over to Freedom Park, a dog run in a neighboring town. He said he’d give me a call to firm up plans.

I had assumed he’d probably call Friday night, but he didn’t. Now it’s Saturday morning, and I’m lying in bed next the phone wondering how this is going to play out.

I’ve given my number to guys before and they’ve never called, but that comes with the territory. Most men just want the number so that later on, when they’re out with their friends, if they can’t point to me and say, “I banged her”, they can at least point and say, “She gave me her number.”

But this guy, Mark, he seems different.

Fuck. I hate feeling like a pathetic loser, waiting by the phone.

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Same Shit Different Day
May 29, 2008, 7:49 pm
Filed under: Humor, Life, love, Men, relationships, sex | Tags: , , , , ,

So S. has made his official return to relevancy in my life.

We ran into each other this morning, I was walking up to the train station to head into the city for the day, and he was driving to work. He stopped and asked me if I wanted a lift and of course I accepted. So the whole ride over we talked about the MOST boring shit in the world (of course) but the whole time I’m thinking “Ask him out, no wait for him to ask you out, drop him some hints, No just ask him out, ASK HIM OUT ASK HIM OUT ASK HIM OUT.” So I screwed up all my courage and said, “So, I see you got a new truck, what happened to the white Hummer?”

Yeah, balls of steel. That’s me.

So anyway, we finally pull up to the front of the station, and I turn to him and say, “Thanks for the lift,” but really all I wanted to do was kiss him. He smelled SO good, and his voice, oh that VOICE. I haven’t spoken to him in so long, anytime we see each other we just wave – so I’d forgotten how yummy that voice is…

I want him so bad it hurts. So what do I do?

On the one hand, we have the fact that he and I have been out together. Once. In October. 2007. And then – nothing. I got like 2 text messages, and then – nothing. He’s had all this time to make a move, and he hasn’t. So he’s obviously not that interested.

Which, to be totally honest, really does upset me. He was so much fun to hang out with, such a down to Earth guy. If only I knew what the fuck I did to turn him off. Sigh. I am NOT a happy camper.



The Bonfire of the Vanities
May 27, 2008, 3:23 pm
Filed under: Life, love, Men, Reality, relationships, sex | Tags: , , , , ,

I went to lunch today with my friends, and I seriously thought it would never end. It was torturous. My friends are all beautiful and successful, but they can’t seem to cultivate a healthy relationship with a decent man to save their lives. Of course, I can’t either, but I know this, I’ve accepted this. They, on the other hand, insist on blaming their failed relationships on male incompetence.

 Well today I finally had it up to here. I decided I was sick and tired of listening to them sit around and complain about being single, and double standards, and how men just don’t understand, and all that “female empowerment” bullshit…So I decided to offer my humble advice and said;

“Look, guess what, ladies? Men are not that complicated. 99.9% of the time, you’re the one who fucks things up. So check this out:

 If you don’t want him to treat you like a slut, don’t sleep with him on the first date.

If you don’t want him to tell you your ass is big, don’t ask how you look in those hot shorts.

If you don’t want him to check out your hot friends, don’t invite us over. Or get uglier friends.

If you don’t want him to cheat on you, find out what the fuck it is he’s not getting from you, and give it to him.

And also, ladies, while I’m at it, those women’s magazines you read? Ditch ’em. Don’t believe the hype – you’re not as great as you think you are.”

Picture, if you will, a turd in the town well. That is how it went over. So fuck them. I like hanging out with the angry old men at my local dive bar more anyway…at least those guys don’t buy me drinks with fucking fruit in them.



I Was Reading “Men’s Health” In The Bathroom Today…
May 17, 2008, 2:25 pm
Filed under: Beauty, Hope, Life, love, Marraige, Men, relationships, sex | Tags: , , , , , , ,

…and I stumbled upon an article written by Hugh O’Neill entitled “The Hottest Sex Tip Ever: Don’t believe what you’ve heard. Your lifetime of great sex starts when you stroll down the aisle.” The article’s main focus was debunking common myths (and fears) that men have about marraige; “Myth 4: She Has To Have It All” is what made this post-worthy (though it could be argued, by citing numerous posts of mine, that I really don’t have very stringent guidelines for what makes it into a post and what doesn’t…but I digress…)

“Many a man balks at pulling the marraige trigger because he appraises a woman the way he’d size up an applaince and then decides she just doesn’t have all the features he’s looking for. Well, here are the answers to those questions tumbling around in your head. Yes, she’s pretty enough. Yes, she’s smart enough. Yes, she’s funny enough. Moreover, all those questions are irrelevant. It’s like asking if a car floats. Most often, your anxieties are less about her then about how others may view your choice of a partner. A woman doesn’t need great beauty or brains or wit to be a fabulous partner and a person very much worth loving throughout your life. Think of it this way: if she’s less then perfect, well, that’s just something else the two of you have in common. Everthing that’s beautiful is cracked, Leonard Cohen wrote, and that’s how the light gets in.”

Even though I think the overall gist of the paragraph was “it’s ok to settle” (which, once you reach a certain point and you’re that just-a-little-to-old-to-be-in-the-club guy, I guess it is), I really liked that Leonard Cohen quote; “Everything that’s beautiful is cracked, that’s how the light gets in.”

Weird, the places hope derive.



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April 16, 2008, 1:50 am
Filed under: lust, Men, relationships, sex | Tags: , , ,

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Cheers
April 15, 2008, 10:53 pm
Filed under: Life, love, Men, relationships | Tags: , , , ,

There’s this bar I go to, where no body knows my name. Except for Mike, the guy that owns the place. Mike knows me, and my name, and he also knows that I mostly just want to be left alone. Mike sort of runs interference for me, serves as a “cock block”, if you will. He’s missing a few teeth and will never be accused of razor sharp wit but he’s an excellent conversationalist (he knows when to just be quiet), and he’s instinctively protective of me…have mercy on the poor guy who tries to send a drink or cheesy pick-up line my way.

I hate messing up a kitchen and dirtying dishes for one person, and I always feel like the world’s biggest loser when I realize I’m standing in front of a free-range oven fretting over the right temperature for a dish I’m whipping up for Cody…so I went to the bar for dinner tonight. The food there is atrocious, that fact really isn’t debatable. They even manage to mess up french fries, which one would assume to be a pretty fail-proof food. But I ordered a burger (really, really well done) and fries anyway and fell into my usual routine of alternating between staring into the brown glass of my beer bottle and staring at whatever game’s playing on the plasma screen. I was in the middle of trying to figure out what my approximate beer to buzz ratio was when Mike surprised me by cracking open a beer for himself and sitting next to me at the bar. I thought maybe he was just taking a break or something, but he swiveled to face me and I was surprised to find a look of concern on his face. It was a look of genuine concern too, the likes of which I can honestly say I’ve only ever witnessed once in this lifetime, and even then it was fleeting. So I straightened up a little and said, “What’s up, Mike?” He sighed a little bit, and I remember what he said next very, very clearly;

“Suzanne, my heart hurts a little bit for you, honey. You’re so young and so pretty, but your so damn lethal, darlin. I know we joke around and call you the Lone Ranger, but you can’t be like that forever. The way you sit here sometimes, if you didn’t look the way you do, I’d swear you were a 54 year old man with three ex-wives and alimony payments that are slowly killing him. At least you don’t smoke,” He offered one of those wry laughs and then took a swig from his beer. I really did not know what to say in response, and we just kind of sat there in silence for a few seconds while he looked into his beer bottle. Then he looked over at me again and continued;

“Look, sweetheart, just humor an old man, ok? All I want you to know is this: you gotta let something or someone in, you have to. No body can get through this shit alone, and it’ll just kill you if you try. I’m talking about finding a husband, or something. I know I come from a different generation where women didn’t do as much by themselves as they do now, but that’s not the point. I see you come roaring in here with a different set of wheels every week, I know you’ve done pretty damn good for yourself by yourself, but a person can’t be by themselves forever. And especially a sweetheart like you. Honey, you’re one tough cookie, but one of these days, you’re gonna find someone whose gonna be able to take what you dish out, and give a lot back. I just want you to be prepared, is all, because he’s out there. And it’s going to be a Battle Royal when he finally comes waltzing in.” He tipped his bottle towards mine in punctuation and then got up to tend the bar again.   

I left before my food came because Dr.Phil moments make me feel awkward. I’ve tried to fight it, but I always feel kind of uncomfortable when someone opens up like that. It’s not what he said that put me off, I’ve been playing the same fantasy over and over in my head ever since I hit puberty and I started reading those absurdly worded romance novels…I’ve always dreamt of finding that guy who thinks he’s as bad ass as I think I am, and we meet and we just melt each other and we live sometimes happily, sometimes angrily, but always together, forever and blah blah blah all that Lifetime movie bullshit. I want it, I do, I really do, but it’s just kind of weird when the guy who serves you beer and sometimes tells you off-color jokes articulates it to you.

The only reason I didn’t tell him to shut the fuck up is because 1.) I like his bar and 2.) I like him.

And 3.) I don’t know of any other bars I can go to and not run the risk of getting hit on by some Lamborghini-driving stud who fancies his genitals dipped in platinum.

…but seriously? “Battle Royal”? Who does he think is coming to claim me? Hacksaw Jim Duggan?



So, To Summarize Thus Far…
April 14, 2008, 9:45 pm
Filed under: Life, love, lust, Men, relationships, sex | Tags: , , , , , , ,

“Somewhere, sometime, somehow, you lose something or see something lost.

If you are lucky, it was when you were young. If you are lucky, you saw your parents divorced. If you are lucky, your high school girlfriend died in a car crash. If you are lucky, you saw your little sister lose the use of her legs because your family couldn’t afford the right health care.

If you are unlucky, it will happen when you’re older. If you are unlucky, you will see your son lose his place at the college of his choice to a man richer then you, rich enough to donate some new lab equipment. If you are unlucky, your wife of thirty-seven years will develop bipolar disorder and have to be hospitalized after you come home from work and find she has opened her wrists with an electric meat carver. If you are unlucky, you will lose your job after twenty-two years of service and be too old to find another.

If you are unlucky, you will realize too late that the way you thought the world worked was just an illusion. If you are unlucky, you will become afraid too late.

But if you are lucky, you will become afraid when you are young, afraid of the unexpected changing of your life for the worse and not having enough power to set things back the way you wanted them to be.

And then, if you are lucky, you will pursue power from that day forth. You will lead armies into Gaul, you will take on a colony in a new world, you will acquire money, you will only maintain relationships where you have the upper hand, only stay in jobs that can eventually lead to you being the one in charge. And you will do this because if you are lucky, you will know that power means you don’t have to be afraid. Power means you can do what you want when you want to. Power means you can have what you want when you want it.

If you are lucky, you will do this because you will know it is really Power that is worth any sacrifice, that it is really Power without which you can’t live, that it is really Power without which you can only eat and breathe and sleep and sometimes not even that. You will do this because if you are lucky you will know that when we say we’d die for Liberty we’re really saying we’d die for Power.

Except that in the pursuit of Power one of the things you will have to sacrifice will be the ability to enjoy the thing you lost or saw lost.

So even if you reach that point where you aren’t afraid anymore, that point where you can relax, that point where you are free, that point you never reach, even if you reach that point, you will realize that you weren’t so lucky after all.”

Kelman, Nic. Girls. Boston: Little Brown. 2003.