Um, I Have to Bathe My Cat

In an uncharacteristic move, I was watching Seinfeld last night in bed.  Not that I was in bed...but that I was up that late and actually had the TV on.  Sheesh.  Whatever.

More important is this:  in the episode Elaine had met a guy (online?) and they were meeting up for a week long rendezvous at her apartment.  There were a ton of high expectations - you know how it is...you like the way the person sounds/writes/looks and you create this amazing fairy tale that has no chance of ever coming true.  RIGHT?!

Fairy tales - BAH!

So five days into the guy's visit, Elaine can't wait for him to leave.  Jerry or Kramer or George ask if there's been any hanky panky and she says, "No, I've just told him that I've had my period for the past 5 days."

Ladies, do you know that excuse?!  I do!

But wait!  Why do we even have to come up with excuses?  Why can't we just be honest and upfront?

~No, the boys aren't home but you're the last person that I would want to have visit me.

~No, I'm not bleeding like a stuck pig but the thought of your tongue in my mouth makes me want to vomit.

~Yes, I really do find washing my hair WAY more exciting then going out with you.

~No, I'm not really going to bed at 7:52...you're just really really boring me.

~Been there, don't that, didn't even want the souvenir shirt.

~The thought of your dick makes me want to think of vajay jays.

~You want another date?  Were you at the same date I was at?? 

And so on.

But no...we make excuses, tell our little white lies and continue to live another day.  And please, don't look for ME to be changing that anytime soon.  Even though I'm THAT middle-aged women, THAT Mrs. Robinson, THAT Cougar-in-training.  I'd rather stay at home if you can't pass my muster first.

Some years back I had a good friend create an even bigger white lie.   Although I didn't know that it was my friend BEHIND the lie for over a  year.  I'll explain.

A guy started talking to me online.  He was charming, charismatic.  He had nice arms in his profile pic (WAY important, as mentioned briefly here: http://jenmarr.blogspot.com/2010/08/im-driving-my-car-from-my-trunk.html ) He was funny, sexy.  I got to expose the side of me that I often kept under wraps.  And then he was gone. Whatever.

No, this was not him.

About a year went by and he was back.  We flirted.  We divulged fantasies.  And in the back of my head there was that little niggle that kept telling me that I knew who I was talking to.

This guy was aggressive.  He extracted information.  He got me figuratively down on my knees.  And yet...

No, this is not me!

It was an energetic online friendship.  And we decided to meet for lunch.  He told me what he'd be wearing and I set off from work at the appointed time to meet him at a local sandwich shop.  And really wasn't surprised at all when he didn't show.

I KNEW that something had been off.  I KNEW, but didn't force the issue.  But what I ended up finding out blew me out of the water.

Some claim to fabricate a twin to do their 'dirty work.'  That's exactly what a friend of mine had done to me.  (Yes, I called him a friend.  And actually still do to this day).  He was pissed at me so his goal was to leave me with a case of blue balls - girl style.  It worked.  His 'twin' talked a damn freaking good game.

Would it have been easier for him to tell me that he was pissed off at me?  Hell yeah.  We wouldn't have gone through all that bullshit.  However, honestly, it taught EACH of us a lesson or twenty.

He learned that he had the balls in HIM to be aggressive.  I learned how to expose myself even if it meant taking a hit.  He's now having the sex of his life...and I'm not holding anything back in my life.

;)

 

Condoning white lies?  I should be ashamed of myself.  Excuse me while I go wash my hair...

disclaimer:  Not as funny as usual, proceed as you may


Taylor Swift serial dates...turns breakups and mash-ups into songs - and STILL there is a line of young eligible men just WAITING to take her out.  And have her buy a mansion near them.  And  have her meet their parents.  And then break up with them.

Here is a list of her songs and how they apply to her exes, according to Wiki:  http://taylorswift.wikia.com/wiki/List_of_Taylor_Swift's_ex-boyfriends 

And this is cute:  http://gawker.com/5965470/who-has-taylor-swift-dated-a-brief-history-of-all-the-men-in-the-universe

But really nothing against Taylor.  Dudes like her.  She's blond and 21 or something.  But I have an issue:

Even though I don't write Tell All books, I have no such line of guys. (wait, maybe it's because I write this blog.  Geesh)

I retract.  I have the checker at Binny's who thought I looked much younger than I am.  I have the framer that we use...he's a doll and I always get a kiss on the cheek.  I have the older gentlemen in our booster club that think I rock at picking great food for them to eat.

But, I have no one my own age.

And here is why.  (I've analyzed this - so sorry if it gets too heavy)

Even outside of the fact that I'm a single mom, blah blah blah, I have a really hard time knowing when a dude is into me.  Ya know?  My mom used to tell me that guys should hit me over the head with a pan.  My life is full of comedy and i try to keep it light...so a lot gets lost in the shuffle.  There aren't many times that I let someone "IN".  And then when I think "maybe," something inevitably happens and I go into self doubt mode.

And my self doubt mode destroys me.  I've had too many men in my life doing things when they were doing other things.

Have a work issue that is preventing you from keeping a date?  I think you're walking away and needed an excuse.

Classic, right?  Because every intelligent man needs an excuse to get rid of me. (NOT the way I think...just to add emphasis.)

I think I'm going to start recording tunes...my name will be JEM.

Wow! I never saw this coming!

I'm thinking about it.  I've realized that there may be a truncated, abnormal person out there who's attracted to someone who isn't willing to walk around the house naked to investigate an odd noise. Someone who has three boys and is a pain in the ass.  Someone...oooookkkkkaaaayyy.

Yes.

I'm thinking about online dating.

From the Googling of Babes

Porn has been a word used in my house in the last three days.  And not in the "hey honey!  Let's spice things up and turn on a porno" type of way. (WHAT?  As you know, there is no 'honey' that lives here.)

The second ex texted me Friday to inform me that the 7 year old had stumbled upon a pornographic site while googling on the phone.  The mystery remains as to what he was googling.  I can't break him and I just spent 2 hours scratching his back.

So now I'm not so concerned about what he saw (because that wasn't his intent) as to what he wanted to see (as evidenced by his crying)

Porn is not a common factor in my house.  I know, I know - ya'll think I'm a spinster with 28 cats so this isn't news to you.  However.  I wonder if it's in the blood. Probably not.  Aside from some curiosity when I was younger ( a friend and I pretended to take photos of each other in my closet) I've been squeaky clean.  Well, clean at least.

But I can't figure out what the little guy was typing in the search box:  boobies?  thingys?  people doing it?  Knowing the 7 year old and his vocabulary, it could have been something closer to:  videos that show men and women engaging in each others private parts for entertainment.

Wow, THAT could just get me going on a whole other tangent!

Making Fun of the Cat Lady

I don't mind if you laugh at me, make fun of me, think I'm silly.  In fact, I hope you do!  It's the best compliment that I can have.  After a lifetime of being so serious, I get seriously jacked up when someone tells me I have wit and am humorous.

More often than not (read:  always), I use humor against me.  But it's okay - if I can't laugh at me, how could anyone else?  Right?

So tonight  I had a few plans change around and while knowing that I would end up in front of my computer playing Words with Friends (and frantically trying to squash my ex-hub), I decided to be brave and hold the inevitable off a bit.

So I did this:

Don't worry, it's not permanent (as if you were dry heaving)

It looks a little better here:

But not much!

Spending my teens in the Cleveland public eye taught me a lot about humility and rolling with the punches.  I think this was one of the worst pictures published of me:

Double breasted shirts??!!  Even at 16 I didn't need the extra help.

There was this one too:

I was typecast as a cat lady before I'd even had sex.  Oh wait.  Let me rethink those dates again.

Moral of the story, folks.  I'm going to go out on a limb (verbally, in written form) time and time again. Join me, it's fun.  But don't hold your breath if you want to see me make an ass of myself (on purpose) in public.  That's reserved for those that actually know me! :)

Karaoke anyone?  Only if there is moonshine involved! (Unless it's Fried Ham, Fried Ham - I'm GREAT at the donkey voice!)