Public Service Announcment

Let me take a moment to fill you in on an amazing little secret. When you make plans with a person who happens to be a single parent...keep the plans, or cancel a few days in advance. If you want the single parent to ever speak to you again, don't blow him or her off. Really.

Also...to all of you single guys out there....Single mom's have scales. Really, they do. So if you come across one, back away slowly. Actually, the best thing you can do is take them out a few times, then blow them off. Really, remember the scales and you'll agree with me.


This PSA is courtesy of Dude and my erratic emotions whilst I PMS. You're Welcome.

Turning Back Tuesdays

Introducing: Last Saturday.

No, I don't have to turn the pages back very far for this little bitty. I was having Dude over this past Saturday, and felt a very strong urge to clean up my nether regions.

I don't wax, I don't use nasty nair...rather, I shave. I was extremely thorough and detailed (just in case...) and of COURSE I CUT MYSELF....in a VERY horrible place.

Now, I'm not a gorilla or anything, but I really really wanted to make sure I was groomed to perfection since it's been such a long time since anyone aside from myself and my battery operated toys have traveled south of the border.

Where exactly was the cut, you ask? Right by where my leg and bum meet each other, about an inch south of my yahoo. Fuck (no pun intended).

Needless to say, I spent Monday mostly sitting, and when I had to walk, I was a very slow mover. Hopefully my area will be feeling better sooner than later!!

Tell me about yourself.

Over my extended weekend, I was asked a question I haven't been asked in a while (it was more of a request, really). Tell me something about yourself.

I drew a blank.

He wanted to know a story from my past, something intriguing...and I couldn't think of a thing.

Laying in bed last night, I came up with a million and one things I should have said. Of course, I can barely remember any of those things today...but I'm going to my best to jot them down here so they remain implanted in my memory banks for the next time I see Him.

When I was a senior in High School, I thought I was pretty bad ass...and by that, I mean I used to take straight pulls of vodka, while sitting in my car two blocks from a bowling alley...then drive to said bowling alley and hang out for the night.

I used to live in a house with five other girls. It was a very dramatic time in my life. We rarely all got along. In fact, I don't talk to a single one of those girls to this day, and I'm not sad about it.

I love jumping in puddles.

I really really really want to have sex under a willow tree. Really. I think it has something to do with the magical scene from The Little Mermaid during the Kiss The Girl song...Yes, I'm crazy. In my heart, it sounds amazing and hot...In my head, I know it will be disappointing and painful...It's still something I want to give a go at.

I've been a horrible judge of character when it comes to the men I've let into my life. I may seem guarded, but I can't really think of one positive man I've had a relationship with...and I'm the type of girl who looks at the glass as being half full. Because of this, I'm very guarded about who I let into baby boy's life...that's just how it is.

I'm simple. If I get the chance, I'll go to a movie by myself. I'll watch just about any sporting event...and the next night be content with reading a book..

I'm ready to make new amazing memories with someone.

Is there anything that sticks out in your head when presented with the request to tell me about yourself? I'd love to hear your stories!

Strings

I'm a walking, talking double standard. I want to have sex...but I won't allow myself to have sex.

My Friday night turned out to be a lot of fun. I was nervous there was going to be a lot of awkwardness, but my apprehensions quickly melted the second he arrived to pick me up. We headed out to a bar, fairly close to my house...ordered a drink, and started talking. His eyes were electrifying....I'm pretty sure that if a guy smells good, is taller than me, and has amazing eyes I would do him, I digress.

The conversation evolved around sports and silly stories from the past. Then it took a swift turn. He started telling me about a girl he was hung up on...a girl who wasn't into him the same way he was into her. My heart sank. It just wasn't appropriate conversation to have considering we were kinda sorta on a date. I brushed it off, but the thought of his hang up remained fresh in the back of my mind.

Our bar extravaganza only lasted a few hours, and included rum and cokes, patron, and a car bomb. I was ready to go balls to the wall...but he suggested we head back to my place for driving reasons. I agreed, and we were home before 11.

I'd like to pat myself on the back here...because I totally made the first move. When we got out of his car, before heading inside, I told him I wanted to tell him something...and then I kissed him. I had been wanting to kiss him since the second I saw him, and it was worth the wait.

We went inside, thanked and sent my friends on their way (who had spent the evening with baby boy)..and we were alone. Some pretty intense making out followed, and then he nonchallantly suggested we move it to the bedroom..I wouldn't allow it for a couple of reasons. As much as I wanted to have wild and crazy sex, I hadn't shaved my legs in over two months, and the thought of his hang-up was still fresh in my mind.

I don't want a one night stand...I've had half a dozen one night stands. I can't emotionally handle them at this point in my life, nor do I think it's appropriate to live my life hopping from one night stand to one night stand for the sake of baby boy. I want more, and I feel like I deserve more.

Here's my little dilemma. I WANT MAN-TENTION! I REALLY WANT TO HAVE SEX! GRRRRR. Why does life have to CONSTANTLY throw emotional curve balls at me?!

I just don't know what to do. I'm proud of myself for holding my ground, but I almost regret it.

Yes, I want a boyfriend...and I think the thing that hurts the most is I keep finding these guys who only want sex, no strings attached...and that's not me. I have and will always have strings.

The Truth, Revealed

I'm not one to typically post twice in one day, but who am I kidding! I've found the reason behind why I'm single.

Dude.

I guess I kind of have a date with a guy on Friday(?). I don't really know what to think of it...I mean, he's my age, and I think he's attractive (aka, I'd totally "do him"..lol)

Here's the catch: He's friends with my brother.

I THINK my brother is just being protective, but his mixed signals about me and Dude hanging out makes me wonder...

When I questioned Brother about if it was cool that I hung out with Dude, he said he didn't care. When I questioned Brother if he thought Dude and I would get along, I was met with a murky response. Yes, my brother knows Dude quite well...but unless he tells me I am crazy for hanging out with Dude, the plans are going to be kept.

The plan for Dude and I is to meet and go out to a bar. I've officially challenged him to a tequila shot-off since I hardly remember the last shots we did together. The night is definitely going to be casual, and hopefully filled with a lot of laughs. I'm excited to be going out with a cute boy that I may or may not have already kissed (cough::the tequila shots of three weeks ago were my demise::cough).

This mama is ready for some much needed man-tention..that's for sure!

Turning Back Tuesdays

I was a pretty straight-edged kid. I never skipped school, pulled major attitudes with my parents, or was late for curfew. Then, my mom cheated on my father, and I decided to not give a rip about respecting my so-called family. Since I was 18, of course I knew EVERYTHING about life.

The end of first semester of my senior year of high school was cause for celebration.

The formula?

• No more first semesters of high school
• three awesome, mostly straight-laced friends
• 104 degree hot tub
• captain morgan silver
• mikes hard lemonade
• a mom that knew not to bother me when I was hanging out with my friends

I admit, I completely took advantage of my family situation, and getting completely wasted literally under my mom's nose was exactly what I felt the need to do..so I did it. The hot tub in our house was in the basement, and directly above the hot tub? My mom's room...which she constantly barricaded herself in throughout my senior year. (the affair broke wind a month before I started my senior year...talk about timing, eh?)

Aside from acknowledging that I was completely wasted, I don't remember much. I remember having a mike's race with one of my girlfriends. I remember the four of us sitting in the hot tub passing around a brown paper bag containing the captain silver. I remember sitting on the bathroom floor in my basement (still in my swim suite), ralphing while hugging the toilet as if my life depended on it. I vaguely remember a visit from two friends that weren't drinking with us (I still haven't been able to figure out if it was a figment of my imagination, or if they really did stop by my house). I remember my brother and my guy-friend carrying my drunk ass to the couch, and the feeling of them pinching my underarms while doing so (damn, the underarms pinching is the WORST EVER).

The next morning, my mom walked up to me and said "what the hell is this?" She held up one of those metal trash cans...you know the kind...they have the mini basketball hoops attached to them, and the outside has sports stuff printed on it. Apparently I had replaced that as my toilet once I was placed on the couch.

I looked at her, told her to get it away from me...and she did. She actually had my brother clean it up...I still owe him for that one.

Sunday Funday

I was lucky enough to have a three day weekend...I truly love three day weekends.

• The first day gives me an opportunity to get stuff like cleaning done.
  
• The second day allows for some much needed chill time, followed by a guilt-free night out with friends. Of course, heavy drinking ensues...
• Which leads me to my third day off: recovering.

Maybe I'm getting old... damn, drinking has a habit of handing my ass to me on a silver platter these days. I'm not talking the "three beers with friends" drinking. No... I'm talking ladies drink free for two hours, mixing in a shot or two...staying awake talking politics with my brother until 5am. Those are the nights that leave me useless the next day.

I don't regret a single minute. If I had to repeat this exact weekend every weekend, I'd do it without hesitation. Three day weekends allow me to be productive, spend quality time with little man, spend quality time with friends, relax when needed, and laugh.

Maybe Barack should institute mandatory three day weekends for America. I'll even let him take the credit for my ingenious idea. You're welcome.

Ms. Clean

I tend to compensate for feeling alone by buying things...lots of things. Before baby boy, I would spend my time spending money, running all over town, and only being at home to sleep (sometimes). I was neglecting simple things like cleaning, or cooking at home. Since baby boy was born, I'm home. all. the. time.

I'm becoming more adjusted to being forced to be at home and be a "responsible adult" (it's been a long and arduous process...trust me). However, one thing I haven't been the best at is cleaning. It's a combination of my mess and baby boy's mess...and it never fails to overwhelm me, specifically laundry. I don't know why I suck at cleaning, it has never been one of my strong suites.

Something clicked around turkey-day this year. Maybe I can attribute it to my lack of family togetherness, I don't really know....like I said, something clicked.

I went on a shopping spree, acquired a new tv, and told myself I couldn't watch it until my house was clean. Although I didn't clean my entire apartment to a sparkling shine, that Friday I sure made an awesome dent.

The past two Friday's I have spent the day at home, cleaning. Although it's not the most entertaining to do on a Friday...it's great to sit in a house that's actually clean and mostly clutter free. Even though I was at home folding socks, switching loads, and separating lights from dark all night long, it feels liberating to have 95% of my laundry clean, and put away.

My clean house makes me smile.

Ring of Fire

Some days, I walk around with an air of pride because I am a mom. In a way, it is a badge that states: "I was good/hot/sexy enough for a man to have sex with me."

Today, I walk around with a burden that is becomes heavier each time it comes around. You see, I don't have the almighty wedding ring, nor am I anywhere near to acquiring one. Mainly because I'm obviously not dating anyone, and really have no potential suitors in my near future.

Why do I think being married is Almighty? Because, I envision my non-existent marriage to be with someone who completes me...who makes me a better person, and who is willing to have sex with me 24-7...no questions asked.

Yes, I skipped out on the marriage before the kid...but that doesn't make me any less qualified to be an amazing wife. If anything, it proves to a man that I'd make a(n) great alright mom. I've willingly accepted the fact that I am no longer the highest thing/person on my priority list 9 times out of 10.

I'm not one of those women who needs to get married NOW...but I'm definitely a girl who day dreams about the day mr. right walks into her life...and also of a day where I can say goodbye to mr. right-now.

I look at men and women who wear wedding rings and envy them. They've found the person who completes them (at least, that's what I tell myself). Their lives may not be picturesque, but it's a pretty intense thing to verbally, emotionally and even sometimes spiritually commit yourself to another being....to me, it's powerful and something I strive for.

My heart hopes it happens sooner than later...because all of these lonely nights after baby boy is in bed are sure starting to pay their toll on me.

Pleasing People and Chronic Wet Blankets

I'm a people pleaser. It's innately ingrained within me. So much so, that I've taken two friends, and tried setting them up (even though I wish the guy I was setting up wanted to date me, but since he showed no interest, and was a great guy, I just want him to be happy).

I'm beginning to think this is more of a flaw than an attribute. Yes, being nice is great...but nice girls finish last as much as nice guys.

I'm not a girl who enjoys drama or conflict. I'll debate the issues of the day with you, but coming from me, it's mostly all fun...I rarely allow things to get too heated because I would hate to upset the person I am hanging out with.

I care about the people around me (period, the end).

What's wrong with going on a couple of dates with a guy, and spotting his favorite treat in the store...so you pick it up for him to surprise him the next time you see each other?

My self esteem wasn't helped out about a month ago. I was hanging out with people I hadn't seen in years. We were sitting around a table, drinking, and I asked my high school buddies (they were all guys) Could you ever see me as being a mom? I can't believe I have a little man. One guy responded "Of course I could." WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?! I just don't get it. Does being maternal negate you from being attractive, or having guys want to date you...he was making it sound as if it wasn't a horrible thing, but if it weren't then how come I don't have guys lined up? (boy, wouldn't that be the day! haha).

Help me Internet...how can this good girl land an equally good guy? Do I have to start being a bitch to get a nice guy to maintain interest?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

How do you handle people that are chronic wet blankets?

Particularly, when you work with them.

There is a woman in my office, who just so happened to be at the concert last Friday...she has a severe case of Wet Blanket Syndrome. I wish I could tell her to sit and spin, but it wouldn't be professionally appropriate. She's 43, severely overweight, and thinks her poo doesn't stink. She agreed wtih me that SoCo was deliciously handsome, but after I filled her in on the happenings of the rest of the night, she responded with "My god! It was just one night..." in the snidest, most wet blanket on a cold day kind of way.

I had to sit on my hand to prevent it from bizzo slapping her (not really, but kind of...).

So what do I do? I'm guessing it would be best to just let it go. Mama always said "keep your friends close, and your enemies closer" and while this lady isn't necessarily an enemy...I wouldn't call her a friend.

Turning Back Tuesdays

Sorry for such a late post..I was a bit distracted most of the day, and instead of spending my time on the blogs, I was spending my time on facebook, staring at SoCo, and chatting the day away on gchat.

I want to mix this up a bit...but I'm not quite sure how, so I'm going to ask you a question..

What do you do when you are with a man, and his penis scares you? Specifically, it looks funky (skinny with an oddly large head) and has a rather large hook. I don't mean to be a penis discriminator, but I firmly believe there has to be a fair amount of physical attraction for a relationship to be successful.

This has only happened to me once in my life. I'm a fan of the penis, and then there was Ace. He was a guy I was working with..actually, the first guy from work that I actually tried dating (too bad I didn't learn my lesson, eh?). He had a fun personality, and was even a literal comedian...attending open mic nights at a bar in downtown. He made me laugh...but I'll be the first to admit that there wasn't a large amount of chemistry. Looking back, our relationship was strictly out of convenience.

One day, things were getting hot'n heavy, and WHAM! I saw his penis and it. was. scary. We never had sex..I couldn't do it.

A month later, he tried sleeping with another co-worker so things ended.

Yes people, I was low enough to call him out on his scary penis. I am most likely going to hell.

SoCo

Cowboy, take me away!

I think I'm going to hell for posting his picture...I just couldn't help myself!

I tried to justify myself by blocking out his gorgeous eyes. Trust me..you're missing out.

SoCo

I was in dire need of a self confidence booster. Having already hung up my dating shoes, I headed out to a Gretchen Wilson concert on Friday night.

I couldn't find any friends to go with, but I jumped on board with a coworker who had mentioned interest in going. We weren't close as co-workers. I was apprehensive, and almost cancelled...but I bucked up and went, telling myself "self, at least I'll have someone to stand next to..."

After spending Friday home from work, burning up my vacation time before the end of the year, my productive nature left me extremely excited to get out and have some mommy time. I drove to the concert alone. The plan was to meet my coworker and her friends there...they were coming from the opposite side of town.

OF COURSE a mini blizzard hit town, but that didn't freeze my fun spirited, excited attitude.

I found a spot in the parking lot, made my way inside, and found the girls. The entire show was general admission, so we found a spot that had a great view of the stage, settled in, and opened up tabs at the bar (which was conveniently 20 feet from where our spot was).

Waiting for the concert to start, I couldn't help but notice all of the hot men in cowboy hats. I wasn't anticipating seeing a lot of single guys at this concert...in fact, I was only expecting to see hot men with equally hot girls attached to their side.

Then, it happened.

I turned around, and saw him. He was standing alone, still wearing his coat. I kept glancing back to see if his girlfriend was coming back....and after ten minutes, he was still standing there drinking his miller lite, with his coat on.

I told the girls about him, but couldn't find the nerve within me to approach him. My mind was racing. What would I say? How would I do this? What if I get completely rejected? Shit.

I turned around, to check if he was still there, and he was gone. Crap, I had blown my chance.

Honestly, I was bummed. I really don't like living life with regrets, so the second I noticed he WASN'T gone*, I got extremely excited. Since I had been so bummed when I thought he had left. I knew I had to approach him, sooner than later. I slammed my beer, and when I was done with it, told the girls I would be back. I walked up to him, and on the ten second walk, was trying to brainstorm up what the hell I was going to say.

My line was weak.."Hi, can I ask you a question?" He replied with a cautious "sure." So I smoothly asked "What's your story?" I guess I wanted to cut straight to the point. Dating has made me slightly raw...I didn't feel the need to waste time. I confirmed that he wasn't there with his girlfriend, and was very excited to not only hear his thick southern accent, but to also find out he had come to the concert alone (which is KIND OF what I had done...). I invited him to come to where we were standing, selling my offer with a great view of the stage. He accepted my invite, and it was the beginning of an amazing night.

There aren't many things that can quiet me...but I quickly learned that a southern accent is one of them. Between his eyes and his accent, I was smitten. It was a Jerry McGuire moment...he had me at hello.

I didn't go to sleep until 6am that morning. The night ended with an amazing kiss.

I am proud of myself for a couple of reasons

1. I swallowed my fears of rejection and initiated our conversation.
2. I maintained a fantastic comfort level the entire night
   
3. I belted out to Gretchen, even with SoCo (Southern Comfort) standing right next to me
4. (this one is gonna sound like I'm a whore..) I didn't sleep with him...I only kissed him (and OH MY GOD I am still floating)
5. I made it a point to tell him I would like to hang out again, and he said yes.

So today, Sunday December 7th, I am declaring myself single, happy, and a mama who still has it....maybe I won't be single for the rest of 08, maybe I will...but again...maybe I won't. Only time will tell!


(He better effin' call me dammit! hehe)

p.s. While we were talking the night away, SoCo actually let out a "day-gum"!! How incredibly sexy is that...can you see how I'm proud of myself for not ripping his clothes off right then and there?? Thanks!

*I realized he had never left...just taken his coat off, and moved to the wall where he could lean against something. Der.

Semi Wordless Wednesday's

The smile says it all...

I couldn't have wished for anything better.

(wow, this little rug rat is getting big fast...and I'm loving almost every second of it!)

Turning Back Tuesday's

Introducing: Ed

Mark and I had been on again off again for about a year and a half. He kept telling me he didn't want a relationship, I kept saying "me neither" but was totally lying about it (I'm such a typical girl, eh?)

My aunt had recently purchased a bar in a hotel..and I desperately needed cash. It wasn't a glorious position, but I took it...and found myself loving it. I was serving, and always had cash. Most shifts, I only pulled about forty dollars...I wasn't complaining, money was money and I was a poor college student!

One day I walked into work, and there he was. Ed. He was tall, with dark hair, dark brown eyes, and my heart immediately started fluttering. Little did I know, I was about to travel down a path that would be filled with tears, frustration, and the most effed up emotional roller coaster I wouldn't even wish on my worst enemy. (Now doesn't that just sound like fun?? note:copious amounts of sarcasm)

I found out Ed was single, we went out a couple of nights, and then decided we liked each other enough to start dating. The first red flag flew into the air when he told me I wouldn't be his girlfriend unless I was having sex with him. I doubted his intentions, but was yearning for an exclusive relationship. I gave in after a week, and sealed the deal. We were exclusive.

Ed loved to party. He loved to rock out, and always ended up black-out drunk when he did so. (Another red flag was being whipped by the winds around me..but I was a young girl in denial of my surroundings). His eyes continued to make me melt, even after I had seen him rip a door off it's hinges or punch holes in the walls. I saw good in him, at least that's what I kept telling myself.


I saw good in him even after I found out he had a baby living in Seattle.
I saw good in him when I found out he smoked a lot of weed.
I saw good in him after I found out he had been arrested multiple times.
I saw good in him after I found out he was on probation.
I saw good in him when I learned about his living situation, which included paying rent to a fifty year old woman who was interested in sleeping with Ed every chance she got.

The good light I kept telling myself existed inside of him slowly began to fade. We weren't getting along. I was also beginning to feel like all Ed wanted me for was sex. Literally. It was the coldest, ugliest feeling I've ever felt in my life.

Another thing about Ed...He didn't like using protection. He promised me he'd "pull out" and I cowardly went along with it. I couldn't afford birth control, and I didn't like how I felt when I was on birth control...so I operated under the assumption that it would never happen to me. The chances of getting pregnant were slim in general, right? Wrong. Literally, I was just a piece of ass to him. I love sex, don't get me wrong..but he could've accomplished the same thing with a blow-up doll, and not knocked the doll up.

About the middle of May in 2005, I found myself at home, waiting to receive a phone call from Ed. In the meantime, I decided to watch movies by myself. It was actually shaping up to be a lovely peaceful night. At 11:30, there was a knock on my door. It was Ed. His eyes had completely lost their luster.

There was something different about him, I just couldn't put my finger on it. I invited him in, and before I knew it, my night had spun out of control. Ed refused to leave my house, for fear I would call the police. He had no reason to believe I would call the police, because up until that point, he hadn't done anything wrong aside from not leaving when I asked him to. I finally told him I was going to leave, and then he took my phone.

My cell was my only telephone, so I struggled with him to get it back. He ended up removing the sim card, and giving my phone back. I threw my hands up in frustration, went back inside my house, and locked the door behind me.

To my surprise, he wasn't through yellingtalking. He proceeded to break into my house, and when I realized what was going on, I made my best effort to pop the screen off of my bedroom window. I was scared, and the damn screen wouldn't open. I was trapped inside my own home, and it was terrifying. When he had me cornered in my room, I tried pushing my way free. He picked me up, threw me down on my bed, laying on top of me while holding his hand over my mouth. I thought he was going to kill me. He told me to stop crying, I held my breath. When he finally let me stand up, he asked me why I was acting so crazy. I couldn't believe my ears. It was then, and only then that I realized if I was going to make it out of my house unscathed, I had to start flipping out. I responded by flying past him to show him what and how he had just entered my house. The very second I had a clear shot at the door, I bolted straight for my car, started it up, and drove away.

I've never cried more in my life. I had survived an extremely terrifying experience. The next morning I filed a restraining order against him. I wasn't going to let him scare me anymore. The only downside was we still worked together, and my boss at the time didn't respect the fact that Ed had almost killed me, and kept scheduling us to work together

Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. I wish I could make this stuff up.

I called him up, and told him the news. We met, he told me he would change, but his psychotic 50 year old roommate who wanted to bone him wouldn't let him spend the night with me, and instead told him that if he left with me she would call the police herself (what a bitch). That night, I went home alone and knocked up.

The next three days, I couldn't reach Ed. I later found out he had gone on a three-day meth binge.

I was clueless that Ed was using meth, but it definitely explained his behavior the two weeks prior. I made a pledge to myself to put me, and my unborn child first.

I quit my job, and reorganized my life. I renewed the restraining order when baby boy was four months old, and moved shortly thereafter.

The last time I spoke with Ed was when I was five months pregnant. He randomly called me from an unrecognizable number. The sound of his voice sent shivers down my spine. He is the one person who will always send shivers down my spine.

Ed is the epitome of the phrase "what doesn't kill me, makes me stronger."

Looking back, I know the entire relationship was doomed from the beginning. Again, I was young, and desperate to find a companion.