Will Jeni Get Her Groove Back?

Stella Payne: So how old are you anyway, young man?

Winston Shakespeare: Well, I'll be 21 on my next birthday so I guess that makes me 20. And how old are you, young lady?

Stella Payne: 40.

Winston Shakespeare: No, truthfully.

Stella Payne. A cougar before her time? A modern day Mrs. Robinson? She's been on my mind lately.

If you would have told me two months ago that I'd be in the funk I am in now...I'd laugh at you. Jen Marr with no libido?! Have the Cubs won the World Series? Oh. Not yet, but with handsome what's his name at the helm, they're bound to. Maybe my drive will come back too.

Theo. Work on that for me.

I'm pretty sure it's all chemical. I mean, a horn dog is a horn dog is a horn dog, right? (sorry for the imagery...I had this kick ass LIT today with grape vodka and tequila. Can't remember the name. Purple-something.) Or maybe...I've been taken over by aliens in the middle of the night and the person that's writing this is actually a human shell covering a mass of toxic green goo.

Lends credibility to the weird shape I am now.

(off shoot - THE Ohio State University bugs me. How much are those NFL players making extra by kicking in the THE????!!)

So what does this have to do with Stella? I'm painfully certain that if Winston Shakespeare hit on me right now, I'd ignore him. (I KNOW! Sign me up for therapy!) What the HELL does a younger guy want with me...a middle aged viola/pokemon/PS2 mom? 

Funny thing is...there seems to be an answer to that. Duh duh DUHHHHH.

A few years back, I had a brief thing with a younger guy. To this day, we are friends and he is CONSTANTLY complimenting me and my physique. (to which, I of course say, 'What the HELL is your problem!! You could be banging hot young thin chicks!') Ahem.  (I'm sure he is!!)

SO. I'd continue this conversation but I have to go take selfies in the bathroom and upload them to Tinder.

This Is Not Your Mother Talking

One night over a childless weekend, I was texting back and forth with a guy who, since I'm still alive and breathing, I find interesting and attractive.  He asked me a curious question: Do you like being single? WHOA.  What the hell, Interesting and Attractive Man? Of COURSE I must like being single since I've been doing it so long..blah blah blah.  But let me not exactly say THAT to you because I think I might like for you to ask me out sometime.  So I'll come up with more blah blah blah and smoke screens.  BULLSHIT blown through. I couldn't shake him off with my infamous nonanswers.

At the same time, I was chatting with a girlfriend who was complimenting me on my steadfastness on waiting for what I want. For remaining single.  For sticking to my guns.

WHOA.

Is this Double-Agent-Ness?!

While I was hemming and hawing with IandAM about if I LIKED being single and trying to set GF straight that I was no saint, I (duh) was so conflicted.

During the past six years, I have done my damnedest to let EVERYONE (I mean, EVERYONE) know that I was fine, perfect, glorious even as a single woman of indeterminate age (Oh, just GO with it!!).  And I am.  Fine.

I have three monsters (ummmm....BOYS) that rule my life.  I don't have a second to date (ask anyone who's asked me out in the past 6 months). I have rules that I follow - I try not to get babysitters for my guys when their brother is at school because I did that WAY too much to their brother when he was young.  I am perfectly content with a book and my computer. 

And that's just where the fibs start.

I can't answer IandAM's question now because it's a week too late.  I should KNOW this shit. I'm the one that wrote the book. The truth is, I'm afraid. I'm not smart, stubborn, independent..(well, I AM but..) I'm SCARED.

I don't know how to do it. I failed twice because I settled quickly for someone that liked me because I didn't value myself enough. 

Oh, it's true.

Plus, I never want (again) the label of 'codependent.' I left my fiance because he made a gazillion more than I did and I felt 'kept.' I CAN'T be unequal.  

So after my second divorce, I opted out of the 'relationship' scene, preferring quick and easy rendezvous. Very quick and easy.

But to quote my friend Geoff (Chaucer): Time and tide wait for no man.

It became apparent within the past few months that something was missing. I hit what could be my mid-life point. I could have gone out and bought a Testarossa...(I bought a tiny house instead). But I didn't. I read Buzzfeed. And thought. As should you:

http://www.buzzfeed.com/ariannarebolini/couples-who-should-be-your-real-relationship-goals?bftw=main#2s2j08l

If' I am going to move forward with another adult, I want to have the partnership of Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. (ha ha!  That's the kids talking!) I want to ride the waves. I want to learn and grow. I want to date. (Did I just say that??)

But how?

It brings me back to IandAM's question: Am I happy single? The answer is that I am, because I am unsure of the way to do it right any other way. Because I've taught myself to be this way.  I don't want to fuck it up. Maybe I'm looking for a teacher.

Single Woes

There are moments when I want to shake those people around me and say, "HELLO! I've interviewed Austin Winkler! I've interviewed Big and Rich! I can (envision me snapping my fingers) work my way around an interview."

And yet.

Not impressed.

:/

unposted archive one

 And she thought to herself....

"But when it comes down to it, if YOU give up - if YOU throw up your hands in defeat -  if you stop loving them and showing them their worth despite their fear and personal beliefs - then who else - WHO ELSE - will love them the way they deserve?  Because YOU know.  You know because you've been that person.  And your heart grieves at the same time it bursts from being so full.  Because there was once someone that didn't give up on YOU so that you may be here NOW, feeling for him."

And she nodded to herself.  And she carried on for another day.

Do You Really Want To Know??!

All of my boys have outstanding memories.  Although I like to pretend otherwise, they get it from me. And I know that memory, if supplied with the wrong ammunition, can be harmful.

I've been on a weird path lately. Letting things that I've overcome in the past make a little dent in my present. Letting them attempt to remorph my 'now'. 

Uh huh.

So hear me out. Let me shout this crap out.  These are the things I hear in my head.  They may have happened today or 30 years ago.

"

I had no choice.

You don't want to be known as 'big' right?

You're really a size 6? (said during my modeling days when I was 30 while he was looking at my boobs)

You're not my type (said by my husband)

We should just stay together because no one else will want you. (said by my other husband)

It's just feedback. Everyone handles it.

This is what happens when you take off.

You really graduated from NU?

Why don't you just take the microphone and say a whole bunch of stuff we don't hear anyway.

"

Now THAT'S therapy :)