Cowboy D, uh, you gonna eat that?

When I received D's emails, they were sweet, non-threatening, and so complimentary...which as you know, wins me over.  Say something nice to me and I'm like butter.  "Your smile made me want to start writing songs again."  I'll take that over, "Nice tits!" any day.  I've had a hard time putting down in words the experience with Cowboy D because it just seems so ridiculous.  I feel like a fool and a bitch at the same time.  But I can't write about it without saying the good and the bad.  (big breath) So, D and I had a great friend connection right away.  He reminded me of my dad in a certain corny-jokester kinda way.  Which is fine, because my father is an amazing man.  Some even joke and call him St. M.  Anyway, D and I started with emails that progressed to text messages, then to phone calls.  He is ex-military (another huge point with me) and an incredible singer. (DING DING DING)  D had sent me a link to him singing various songs that I'd never heard before (I am such a country-misfit) and a you-tube video of him singing.  He's described himself in his profile as a few extra pounds, he has dark, longer hair, and he's tall.  In his pictures he's wearing a cowboy hat, or a bandanna on his head.  He's an average guy, but so nice.  We talk for a few weeks.  Throughout the few weeks we discuss the shit storms of our marriages, but we don't complain, which I liked about him.  Things were bad in both of our marriages, but he, like I, moved through it, or moves through it with the best attitude  we can knowing there's love out there.  He sends me messages singing me songs.  They're beautiful.  The songs make me stop in my tracks.  Just knowing somebody took time out of his day to do that for me is so sweet. Sweet sweet sweet.  This word keeps coming in my mind and out of my fingers.  But there's something missing.  There's sweetness, tenderness in his voice, "You are a beautiful woman and I simply can't imagine from what little I know of you, why any man wouldn't find it hard to leave work early just to spend time with you..."  I feel nothing.  I feel thankful for such sentiment, but nothing stirring me.  Maybe it's just because I have nothing tangible yet.  No warm body to go with the words. 
About three and a half weeks go by and I get a phone call at 7am...
"Hello," I grumble
"Hey there, Sunshine, whatcha doin'?"
"Sleeping.  I don't have to work until 12 so I'm...I'm sleeping."
"Hahaha, well..."  blah blah blah, I'm half-asleep and I think he's asking me how I'm feeling or if the sky is blue, I don't really fucking know because I was SLEEPING.  "...so whatcha doin'?" he asks again.
"Sleeping.  Still sleeping.  In bed.  Sleepity sleep sleeping." 
"Well, I can be there in 10 minutes."
RECORD SCREEEEECH
"What?" I sat straight up in bed.  He lives about 40 minutes away from me.  So he planned this. 
"Yeah, I know you live by Starbucks.  Why don't you meet me in 10 minutes."
At this point I should have said no.  My best friend still yells at me telling me she would've told him to go fuck himself if he would've woken her up and then said come meet me for the first time in ten minutes.  But not me.  I'm curious, and low-maintenance.  I can be ready for anything in 20 minutes. 
"You have to let me shower, D.  This was unexpected."  I pull myself from the bed and start to stumble towards the bathroom.  "And you're going to get me in my workout clothes because I'll have to leave for the studio." I stick a toothbrush in my mouth.
"Fine with me.  I just want to meet you in person.  It's time." 
I jump in and out of the shower, blow-dry my wig, throw my clothes on, run down the back stairwell to the exit to Starbucks, fling open the door FLING!  I hear meep meep and see flashing lights of a car.  I stand there watching a car door open (creeeeaaakkk) and a man gets out of the car that is supposed to be D, the man that is, "a few extra pounds," but instead he looks like he very well possibly ATE the man that was, "a few extra pounds."  I quickly think to myself, "I could run."  But then my brain slaps me in the face and says, "STOP BEING SUCH A BITCH!  You've been talking to this sweet man for weeks and what's been lacking may finally be here.  Give him a chance." (and besides, he saw you and you're the only one in this Starbucks with pink hair...he knows it's you)  He walks up to me and grabs me in a bear hug and I actually hear my back crack like an adjustment at the chiropractor's office, "D, you gotta be careful with me.  I'm a delicate flower and I have to work today, " I tell him.  He tells me I'm even more beautiful in person than I am in my pictures.  Now, I describe myself as a few extra pounds because I would like to lose 10 or 15 pounds more.  But that's the difference between men and women.  With men, you could sit Brad Pitt next to Norm from Cheers at a bar and they'll be HI-5 ing each other being the best of friends and not thinking anything of it.  Meanwhile, you have Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie, or better yet...sit Angelina next to a fucking mirror and she'll be scratching her own eyes out.  And they are clearly GORGEOUS  women but that's what women do.  Such a shame.  Ah, Thank Goddess for Mama Gena and the School of Womanly Arts.  Alas, I digress.  Ok, back to Cowboy D.  He buys coffee for us and we sit down to talk.  I'm looking at him and he looks nothing like his pictures.  He's at least 50 pounds heavier than the pictures and in those he was heavy.  His hair isn't dark, it's kinda blonde with about an inch of grey roots like he dyes it, but his beard is dark and his eyebrows are almost non-existent and his hair is almost as long as mine and Jesus-like.  And all he can do is look at me and tell me how pretty I am, but when he's telling me, his lips are shaking over his teeth...(sigh) I have to take a minute.  Ok, so then he says to me, "I wish I'd known you had to work today.  I was going to say let's get into my car and just drive."  Yes, I've got a great secluded place where nobody will hear you scream....under the stairs...Oh my sweet heaven.
"Well, you didn't tell me you were coming."  I replied with a smile, "It was so nice of you to buy me coffee this morning, but I have to get on my way to work."  I get up and try to make a dash for the door.
"Oh, I'll walk you to your door." FUCK
He walks me to the doorway to the stairwell to my building and I know what's coming.  I quickly turn my head while he hugs me again like Lenny from Of Mice And Men but now D grabs my face and says, "Nooo," in this upspeak no like he's trying to force me to kiss him.  So I, in turn say, "NOoooo," in the same upspeak. And this guy says to me, "Why not?" 
"Because, D, I said no.  Because you think you bought me a cup of coffee that gives you a right to kiss me when I don't want you to?  Because all the conversations we've had about the lack of control I had over my body in my marriage, I am saying, 'no,' and that will have to do.  I have a chance to do things right now and that's how it's going to be."
"You're right.  I'm sorry."  He hugs me and that motherfucker kisses me anyway.  I was so mad I could've spit nails.  I mumbled something like, "See you later." and I dashed up my stairs making sure the door closed behind me without him.  Later at my studio I was still fuming about it and my manager called it, "Mouth Rape."  That at least made me laugh. 
A few hours later I received a voice message from him.  He'd said he wasn't looking for someone all agoogoo over him, but with me he'd felt something and I'd touched something so profound in him.  He'd wanted to see where the connection was coming from.  He wasn't trying to cheapen me...blah blah blah. " I wonder if she kisses as well as she wants her guys to kiss."  I wanted to vomit.  I called him.  Five minutes of pleasantries and small talk go by and finally I said,
"So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?"
"Well, I was hoping we could just forget it."
"That's not how I roll, D.  If we don't have any communication, we have nothing.  I have to be honest with you and tell you what you did today was really fucked up.  You can't treat me like that.  I don't feel any man/woman chemistry with you.  I think you are a nice guy, but I don't feel like we could have that type of a relationship."
"I'm sorry you feel that way.  If you ever change your mind, you've got my number."
POOF!  Conversation over.  (Exhale)
The next day he'd erased all of our conversations and BLOCKED ME so I'm not really sure what ever happened to him.  I also took a break from Internet dating.  I need a nap...or a shot of Jack Daniels.
This made me grateful for my ability to use my voice to stand in my impenetrable spot.  I am so much stronger than what I used to be.  I'm a lot more fun, too, but I am grateful for being able to say what I want and don't want.  I am grateful for D's kind words, and his song choices.  He gave me some good songs I didn't know about before.  I wish you all so much love and joy as the snow melts.  I can feel spring coming, can you?  My life is really good.  This whole experience wasn't horrible.  It was comical.  It was perfect timing for where I am now.  I'm holding my hands out for more.  xxoo, R
 The song I chose for this entry is, "What's Your Fantasy," by Ludacris and C. Shawna   and, "Like Red On A Rose," by Alan Jackson

UGH! Done with being sad...I live in my pleasure. WARNING: R RATED

Alright, a girl's gotta right to be swampy and sad for a few days.  I took my few days.  I'm done.  Done, I say.  My son was sick and for those of you that have kids, you know how that can take its toll on you mentally and physically.  You're basically a human Kleenex.  The kid sneezes on you, wipes his nose on you, ech, it's enough to make you wanna cry.  I wanna feel like a woman today, not a wrinkly piece of tissue balled up at the bottom of somebody's purse with a mint stuck to it.  SO, I came across this post on my online community board about W.  I'd talked about him at the very end of the Guy with the holes in his socks post the other day and said he deserved his own post.  I want to tell you, I had to edit the post a bit to make it, "blog-friendly," and less graphic.  (Whew, it was very descriptive) That's the beauty of the Sister Goddess community, though.  I can write anything and it's totally accepted by my sisters...never judged, but supported.  And for that I am so forever grateful.  I brag today I am one smokin' hot goddess and at 40 (ass smack) I got it goin' aaaooowwwnnn. 

"...I love that I call W my, "man-friend."  It makes me giggle.  I brag that he lets me play in the most delicious ways wherever, whenever...he's so easygoing.

I sat on the couch before breakfast.  He comes out from the bedroom carrying the pink, fuzzy blanket to cover me so I won't be cold while he opens the patio door to have a smoke.  When he's done all I'm thinking about is I want a before-breakfast treat. I start to snuggle up to him and he says, "let's go back to bed so I can play, too.  This couch is to small for what I want to do to you."  I didn't even wait for him to finish what he was saying and I was already in the bedroom.  I think I was like a cartoon where you could see the color streaks behind me and a bullet noise (PING).  He laughed and yelled out, "Alrighty then, I guess that means ok?"  I told him to lay down and let me take my pleasure from him. ( It's a completely different world when you focus on YOUR pleasure when you touch someone else.) W is very quiet when we fool around...we're working on this, I've at least got him to tell me when he's going to orgasm, he looks into my eyes when he's inside me, all new to him...wow. So, I (edit, yikes, too graphic), which I love to do for him.  His hand slides down my ass, move my red satin thong and (oh my G-d, more edit, this part was really good, too damn).  W has my body down so well.  He reads me and listens.  After a few mere seconds of touching me, I'm climbing on top of him and he slides inside me.  Total nirvana.  My curls are falling all around his face and I'm riding him in slow motion.  My hands reach out in front of me above his shoulders on the bed, I flip all my hair back,  he grabs onto the small of my back and we're still moving as slow as possible while all these swear words are coming out of my mouth about how fucking good it is and don't stop and Oh God, yes, I look directly into his eyes and he tells me, "I'm going to cum now, ok?" He's so precious.  He asks my permission. He moves faster and it feels amazing...and then...a noise...it wasn't a big noise...but it was a noise...total step up from complete silence which is where we started. It used to be like having sex with a mime.  Now, I'm fucking a quiet rockstar.   A rockstar who serves me with pleasure and loves to see me in mine. Then he says, "Let's go out for breakfast."  YAY! I don't have to cook! Yes, gps, I'll take more, please"

Hmmm, adult dating...my former marriage...adult dating...my former marriage (doing the  balance scales with my hands).  Was W the Knight on the white horse.  No, but he's what I call driftwood.  My love is there.  I may have to wait my whole life...shit, I've waited this long, and I'm staying in my pleasure while I do. 
My song choice for today, my Lovlies........."Like A G6 (Clit Talk Chopped and Screwed)"  It's the sickest version of this song I've ever heard.  If you can't find it, I suggest, "Wait (The Whisper Song)" by the Yin Yang Twins.  I'm a mother.  I'm a woman.  I'm a sometimes-Kleenex.  And I am so much more than that.  Thank you for taking time to read where I am today.  Will you puhleeze do something that will make yourself not be a Kleenex today or tonight?  I don't give a shit if it's taking a bubble bath or putting on lip gloss or for my more advanced sisters...what would bring you pleasure? You are responsible for your own happiness, right?!  What about just holding eye contact with someone for a little bit longer than what's comfortable and smile.  Just try it...you might like it.  I'm sending you all so much love, R

A random post from the Mastery Grad Boards triggered when I decided to leave

I belong to a women's group in New York that has absolutely changed my life...saved my life.  We have an online community that we are able to post anything and everything and we can comment to each other and I'd come across a post that I'd made before I'd separated from my ex.  I can tell you the exact moment that I made up my mind that I was going to leave my husband, the moment that I knew I would never look at him the same again.  This is not a haha posting today, my darlings.  I apologize in advance if it's too much.

It was rare that my husband would keep the kids out of the bedroom and quiet while I was sleeping, but this one particular morning I could hear him saying to the kids, "Let Mommy sleep."  Until he finally came in and stood on my side of the bed and said,
 "Robyn, I need you to be awake now." 
"Ok, what?"  I peeled my eyes open.
"M's dead."  Just like that.  But he was never one for mincing words.

I sat up immediately, "What?  What?  What do you mean?" He started to tell me that my mother's best friend's youngest son was dead.  I couldn't understand what he was saying to me, like he was speaking to me in a different language.  My ex dialed the phone and called the oldest of the 5 kids and handed it to me.
"J?" I choked out, "What happened?  What is this?"
"Robyn? We don't know what happened yet.  They found him laying there in his bed.  Ma is here layin' on the couch..."  J is sobbing. J is what you would call a man's man. Not a crier.  I'm close to this family.  I'd do anything for any of the kids.  We've been on vacations together, spent years of Christmas Eves together.  I'd just been to Miami with the middle sister.  The youngest sister interned for my (then) husband, the youngest kids had come over to get chicken pox from me. 
"I'm getting dressed now.  I'll be there in an hour."
I am so fucking confused and out of sorts, I put my shoes on before my pants and I can't figure out WHY my pants won't go on over my shoes.  I'm trying to hold it together as best as I can, but I'm still crying.  Ex grabs me by the shoulders and sits me down on the closed toilet seat in the bathroom, looks into my eyes and says, "Robyn, I don't want to stop you from going...but who's going to make dinner?"

I sat in silence for a good 30 seconds before I replied.
That's the moment.  That's the moment I said in my head, "I am SO leaving you."  All the Mama Gena, Inner Circle, Therapy, Lexipro...NOTHING will ever make me forget this moment of, "But who's going to make dinner?"  I tried so hard to find him right.  It was Yom Kippur at sundown and he was worried he wouldn't have food for the fast.  "Can you go to your parents?"  But he said that they eat too early.  I suggested some takeout menus downstairs and that seemed to appease him for the moment.  At least long enough for me to get in the car and start my hour-long drive.  M's death was...is still very hard for all of us who knew him.  It's only been a year since he's been gone.  He was young and so handsome and ridiculously fun to be around. And, my G-d could he dance.  His middle brother is my age (always the one that I was kinda associated with the most) and at one of the many parties we were all at, M and I danced together and when the song was over he said in my ear, "Now who's your favorite?"  Flirty little fucker!  So, of course I told him it was HIM.  I'd watched him grow from a little boy into a man.  Such a good, kind, loving, giving man.
At work I made a special playlist that I used, and I still use it every once in a while because I know that M would love knowing there are all these women pole dancing and lap dancing in his honor.  Yeah, he does.  I am grateful for knowing M.  For the memories I have.  For still having his amazing family in my life. For whatever purpose his death had to serve, although I'll never understand why.  But I am grateful because it led me here.  I miss you.  With love, R

I have two songs for M tonight
"Somebody," Bonnie McKee
"Calling All Angels," The Wailin' Jennys

The one with holes in his socks...

One night out with friends at the end of the summer I met B.  A pool playing, beer drinking, sports jersey wearing average guy and I was a silly karaoke singer with the girls and being my ghetto-fabulous self.  The place that we go is a dive but the people are nice and the guy that runs it is a teddy bear that you just want to squeeeeeeeze.  He's a big biker dude with a ginormous mullet and he can sing.  (you must pronounce it saaaaang)  So anyway, I'm there, little Jewish girl in a sea of bikers and blue collar, Lake County dudes and I start my usual mouthing off to my friend who's talking to B.  Long story short, he asks my girlfriend when I go to the ladies room what does he have to do to get close to me.  "Be nice to her.  Treat her like a lady."  This is what she tells him.  It was really that simple.  I'd only been separated since March and I think this was  September.  B buys me a club soda (I know, big drinker that I am) and asks if he can take me out on a date. 

I soon find out B is 11 years older than I am...okay.  that's different for me.  I've usually dated younger.  He doesn't look older.  So what.  Age is a number.  B rents a room in basically a grown-up fraternity house.  Ugh, ok.  And the house is supposedly like the show, "Hoarders."  Gulp.  And he plays some computer game online for hours on end with other people he's never met but they all know each other.  Fucking, really?  But, ya know?  He's nice.  He opens my car door for me.  I practice my "finding the attractive feature in any man" tool.  Cut to the date. B takes his shoes off at my apartment after lunch and reveals the holes in his socks.  Girls, if a man has holes in his socks...do we want to imagine the condition of his underwear?  NO!  I'm trying not to stare.  We hang out for a bit longer and then he goes home.  The next day he calls and asks if he can start calling me his girlfriend and if we can be exclusive.  Oh my sweet God in heaven, NO.  After one date?  With holes in your socks?  So what should I do?  Of course...I go out with him again.  I know.  I'm hitting myself in the head with the keyboard right now as I remember this story.  The next date he comes over right after work and asks if he can take a shower before we go out at my place and I said fine.  But the wierd thing...he brings the same outfit he wore last date, and it's not like a nice outfit...it's holy jeans and a t-shirt from an island.  Like this is his, "Date Outfit," or something.  He's taking a shower and I have Stevie Ray Vaughn playing.  He comes out of the shower in his clothes (I don't even look at the socks) and I make mention of the guitar solo and he says something like, "Who's Stevie Ray Vaughn?"
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  WHO'S STEVIE RAY?"  Get the fuck out of my house.  I should've known he was a mental patient right there.
"Really?  I don't know much music.  I know sports."
I needed a nap after that one, but we went to go eat.  After dinner we're watching, "Salt," back at my place and we kissed a little.  I considered it a little but he looks at me and says,
 "You know, this would be much more comfortable in your bedroom."
"Um, yeah, maybe, but we're not going in there."
"What, Robyn so you don't want to have sex with me?"
"NO"
"Why not?"
"Because I already told you that I don't do that with someone I don't have a monogomous relationship with.  If I do it with you, who's to say I'm not doing it with 10 other guys, too.  That's ok with you?"
"NO!"
"Alright then.  Let's watch tv."
He's sitting on the couch pouting
"I don't get it.  It's called Adult Dating."
"Well, this adult is not going to have sex with you tonight."
"Well, maybe I should go home then."
"Ok, I had a nice time.  Thanks for dinner." He's totally shocked I didn't try to make him stay.  He's laughing in disbelief that I'm letting him put his shoes on his ratty socks and letting him go without throwing myself in a crumpled heap on the floor.  NOoooo, don't GOooooo.
He left and didn't call for three days.  Then I get a text from him.

I miss our time together :(    (Yeah, both times?)

I'm sorry, B, but any man who after the second date says, "You don't want to have sex with me?" is way too much drama for only knowing him for 6 days.  Please don't call or text anymore.

And boy did he let me have it.  Telling me my ex really fucked me up and I had too many issues and he was trying to apologize.  "Alls I was doing..."  Alls.  is this really a word?  The next guy I ended up dating was just what the doctor ordered.  He was tall, broad shoulders, strong, sweet as could be, manly, handsome.  B was the catalyst for him.  The joke was W would come in the apartment, take off his shoes and say, "no holes in my socks," and when he'd ask, "What, Robyn, don't you want to have sex with me?"  and before he'd even get the sentence out there'd be a trail of clothes to follow to my bed.  I still have this laugh with my friends.  "What, you don't want to have sex with me?"  Just randomly it comes out.  Oh, I'll write about W later.  He deserves his own post.

 Hmmm, tonight's dance break song...that's a toughy.  Because I want to laugh with it.  I think this one is going to be, "Sexual Healing," Marvin Gaye Featuring Shaggy. 

I'm sending you all so much love and light on this cold, cold night.  Thank you for reading.  I am grateful for your support. 
Feel free to leave in your comments today three things you are grateful for if you are in the mood.  You know, unacknowledged good goes to waste.  xxoo, R

This is how you get my number, oh yes it is.

So for all the emails that I laugh about, scream about, sit in utter amazment about, this guy knew how to talk...to me anyway.  I thought I had to share at least one good one with you and show you my shameless flirting.  I ended up meeting this guy for a cheeseburger and he was charming as could be, handsome, and was just a fantastic date.  He looked at me across the table like in the Tex Avery cartoons where the Wolf stares and one minute I'm ME the next I'm a CHICKEN LEG and then I'm back to ME again.  It was HOTTTT!!!   He helped me with my coat after the meal, walked me to my car, opened my door for me, gave me a rrrreeeaaalllyyy good kiss goodbye and sent me on my way.  A few days later BLAM my uterus comes out.  Feh, buzz killl.  How the hell do you tell that to a guy you just met?  "Pass the ketchup, please, by the way..."  But, I'm thinking...I gotta call this guy again.  Well, here it is.



Thank God there are still women with a sense of humor! (He'd read my profile on POF)

Ahahahaha! (Yesssss! Score one for MEEEEeeeee)I'm not sure what I said, but you're welcome. xo, R

Score one for you, indeed! And one for me. So, how do I go about getting
scientific credit for proving your existence through physical observation? This
could put me in contention for a Nobel.
My goodness...all that AND brains. Wow, um, what'd you have in mind? Btw, you have a name, Sailor. We've not been formerly introduced.

Sailor? You are losing points. 24 years as an Army Ranger, and you want to call
me a swabbie?
(THUD) I'm sorry I fainted...Army Ranger? I have died and gone to heaven. I apologize. ;)

I'll let it slide this time, but do it again, and I will start to
suspect that you are a communist plot....;)
 I tried to IM you asking if you just called me a communist. (GASP) Are you on your cell phone emailing me? Is Glendale Heights far? Because I'm starving. I could eat a bear right now. Not very girly, I know, but I keep a pinky up.

 I am in a restaurant on Main in Glen Ellyn. They have great beer on tap. And,
there is a distinction between your being a communist and being a communist
plot. It's subtle, but real. Give me your number and I will call to explain.
Is my head going to start hurting when you tell me? I once thought about what it would be like living in a commune, does that count? 847/xxx-xxxx You have a way about ya'. Nice work. Hooyaa

There was a bit more banter, but that was the jist.  He then calls and reads me the menu and says, "What would you like me to order you?"  See?  Have some brains and autocorrect and flattery, my darlings, will get you places when it's not so ridiculous.  Oh, this makes me laugh, too, but it was a great night of fun and flirting.  I am grateful for all of this.  I am so lucky to be out of a marriage that didn't deserve me so I can live this ridiculous life that makes me smile.  My dance break song for tonight is, "Love Is In The Air," because it just feels so right.  Turn it on for 30 seconds and dance your ass off and I am telling you, it will be the right song for you, too.  Love love love to you all on this cold, wintry night, R

I promised to stay honest and this is how my body's feeling today.

Yesterday I blogged about how I'm recovering from surgery.  Please forgive me.  This blog may take some twists and turns from my dating to other facets of my life, but I want to keep it true to where I am standing in my days.  Today, this is it. Last Thursday I had a total hysterectomy.  I'm 40 years old and I've now moved onto the final phase of my feminine journey.  Today it settled in my body, it has happened...or at least started to.  I felt sadness.  You know, it's not like I'd planned on having more kids or anything.  I'd joked and said things like, "I'm not using my uterus, what do I need it for? I'll give it to the angels."  I'd even had a Bon Voyage party for my uterus with some of the Sister Goddesses at the spa the night before my surgery.  I wore my tiara to the hospital the morning of and asked for support by way of texts, voice mails, cards...shit, I even asked for Gerard Butler (I'm a greedy bitch) if someone could deliver him.  And all but Gerard was delivered.  So, yes, again I acknowledge what an amazing life I live.  But today I couldn't help feel loss.  And the tears came.  One of the cards I received from a Sister Goddess who was so helpful in calming me, it said:

THE HEART DOESN'T BREAK

"Praise your tears.  Praise the heart

that is moved to release them.

Praise the pain of letting go.

but let go.  Let your tears slake

the thirst of the new-sprouting seed

of your understanding."

-by Judi K. Beach



So I did.  I moved through it.  It still hurts and I'm not sure why, but I'll just feel it for as long as I have to for now.  My song for today is, "This Woman's Work," by Kate Bush.  It's more of a swamp song than a dance break, but some days you gotta have these, too.  Today I say I am Grateful to my uterus for giving me two beautiful children, for reminding me that I am a woman and divine, and for serving me so well for 40 years.  I Brag that I am a Rockstar for being able to have the surgery surrounded in such love and light.   Love to you all, R

Here's a picture of me in all my glory holding up the pink pukey thing and holding down the chicken soup I just ate.  Ah, the perfect mix of narcotics and a tiara. 

Oh, Imma gonna marry this one, Mama

The BEST post to date (sarcasm)

just now!

Oh, YES! my Darlings!  I'm so sorry I've been away with my amazing emails from the guys who want to date me.  I just got back from staying at my mom's house while I recovered from a surgery and I came home to an UNBELIEVABLE  email from this guy.  I copied the part that made me want to scrub myself in Comet.  This part came after a lengthy description of how he's a big-time actor that looks just like a thin, young Kurt Russel but won't post any pictures b/c too many men have used his pics to send to women as fake profiles.  Oh, Lawdy, it was so good.
"...You can gaze into my dominate green eyes and I'll have breathing in the sensual colonge (Halston 1-12) that I where. You'll have the indulgence of me using my UNREAL TOY COLLECTION.....including a BRAND NEW F-ing machine that I purchased from CA with you. I now have about 6k worth of FANTASTIC TOYS for all your wonderful PLEASURES and DESIRES!..." "Thanks for reading my profile. I'm sure you've never read one like this before...Mmmmmm!"
(crickets chirping)  I'm stunned, absolutely stunned.  I wish my surgery site didn't hurt so bad when I laugh, b/c this was unfrickingbelievable.  The typos, the content, the F-ING MACHINE FROM CALIFORNIA!!!  I am going to write a book.  I'm thinking this guy could be, "THE ONE."  My mother would be so proud.
 I'm going to have a quote from the first line from my book now...Ahem..."...If we ever had the pleasure of meeting I would pay for you GAS! a FULL TANK! if your not TOTALLY BLOWEN AWAY at my looks! Thats how confident I am about the way I look! I'd even PUT UP $1000.00 too!..."  Sweet Jesus, poetry.

My song pick for this one..."I Got Cash," by Brooklyn Funk Essentials.  Enjoy my Darlings.  Love, R

Gotta getcha up to speed

These are postings from my Journal on OKcupid. 

Have to vent for a sec (for my own sanity)

Jan. 16

Everyday I do things to make my life amazing.  Every fricking day!  It's not a big secret to happiness.  This is the advice I've taken over the years and it's made all the difference.  Stop acting like a victim.  Stop complaining that your life sucks because you're alone.  I know it's hard to do, 'cause I'm there...but nobody's gonna fix it for you.  "Why is it so hard when we're all looking for the same thing..." came from a profile from a guy who just wrote me the dirtiest, grossest, first-contact email.  SO...you think that's what I'm looking for?  B/c I don't remember writting in my profile anything about wanting some stranger to comment on my bodyparts asking for details about my grooming habits, so, NO, we're not all looking for the same thing apparently.  Oy, my G-d, really?  What do I do to handle this...I could write a scathing note back and give my energy to him...nah, then shame on me if I let him make me feel like that.  I choose to vent for 5 minutes, get it out of my system, and then let it go so I don't hold it against the next man who contacts me.  Because he could be wonderful and all the things I am looking for.  You see, I'm the one who has control over how I feel and react.  I can put on my favorite song in my living room and dance like a crazy girl and that email suddenly doesn't seem so important anymore.  That sounds like such a good idea right now.  Anyway, thanks for listening.  A lot of times women just want you to listen to the shitty thing that happened to them without trying to fix it, so I feel much better for getting this out. haha.  I know there are wonderful guys out there and this was just one...and I know I have love that's waiting for me.  Just wish he'd hurry up, I've been waiting a long...long...loooooong time for my man

But then:

I'm gonna write a book about my dating experiences

Jan. 17

I really had no idea when I left my marriage how hysterical dating would be.  And I have to laugh about it because if I don't, I'll cry.  G-d, I wish I knew how to write.  It'd be a good book, or not, who knows.  So, yesterday I wrote about the guy who asked about  my body parts and my grooming habits and that I'm letting it go b/c the next man may be wonderful, blah blah blah...  Last night a new suitor writes me this:
"I think you are great.  Well, your profile is anyway.  Maybe you suck.  I don't know yet..." and then he ended it with, "nice pole, (name)"
Really?  Really.  Lmao.  What do I say to that?  Thank you?  I don't suck on the first date?  Nice pole, yourself?  OMG! That's my sense of humor answering, but why would you tell a girl, "Maybe you suck," ?  That's so not...nice.  I am a joker when you get to know me, absolutely, but I really don't get this.  When you are putting your best foot forward, maybe put the honesty filter on.  "I think you're great" (say out loud) "Maybe you suck" (inside voice) "I don't know yet" (out loud) "Nice Pole," (wishful inside voice) I'm just sayin'. Internet dating tourettes? Thanks for taking time to read this.  I hope you all have a great day that doesn't suck.  Or if it does, that it sucks well. (Shit, was that inside voice or out loud, F&%$!)

People from the site commented and they were charming and offered insight.  One guy just chalked it up to guys just have no clue how to control themselves.  I don't believe that.  I've met guys that have normal conversations.  It happens.  They're there!  I have one more that wrote to me today that I am going to post and then I'm done for the day.  Love to you all, R

My first post...(exhale) here goes

When I left my husband in March, I had no idea what dating was going to be like.  I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I've always tried to have a positive outlook on things and this was going to be no exception.  I've never written anything more than an email or a note on a birthday card, so please try to stick it out with me and my ridiculousness and I'll promise to keep it honest.  So...what does a newly separated, Jewish woman do in the Northshore?  Exactly, I joined J-date...and apparently my ex-mother-in-law had the same idea for her son because there was his profile staring me in the face on my computer screen...Oy vey.  Being Jewish never made any difference to me in dating, but I kept hearing my mother's voice in my head, "You know...your cousin, Heather met her husband on J-date..."  While I'm filling out my profile and trying to get my former husband's picture out of my mind from the whole process I get an instant message:
(man) Tuna?
(me) I beg your pardon?  Mind you, I've been on J-date for a total of 5 seconds
(man) Tuna.  Do you like tuna?
(me) I guess it depends on how it's prepared.
(man) on crackers
(me) what?
(man) brb
Yes!  This is what I've signed up for.  What is he doing?  Going to get me tuna on a cracker?  Is that your opening line?  Tuna? 
The next day I had a few guys ask me right off the bat if I had a web cam, if I had naked pictures of myself I would send them, or if I wanted to see them naked.  Yeah, no.  No thank you.  I began to think maybe I should convert and join a convent.  I'd seen Sound Of Music a lot as a child.  I liked singing.  But I kept at it.  There's someone out there for me.  I'm just starting to kiss the frogs.  If I don't laugh about these things, I'll definitely cry because they are just so crazy.  I am starting this blog because of online and my adult dating life.  I've had quite an experience in the last 11 months.  I hope you as a reader will find it as entertaining. 
If there is one thing, though, that I can say that I am really very good at, it's finding music to suit the mood for the read.  If I had to pick one for tonight's, I would choose, "Little Wing," by Stevie Ray Vaughn.  That is how my body is feeling right now.  I am wishing you all a blessed evening.  Stay warm and safe with all this snow. Love, R