Oh man, I don't even know where to begin on this subject. It's a wide open field, but let me start by saying: "Dudes, what the hell?"...
"What the hell what?" you ask? What the hell this:
...if you ever want to really connect with a woman; you have to take a few tips from one.......namely, moi.
I think I'm going to narrow my field even further, by speaking specifically to men who are 45 and older, as I've noticed some strangely similar personality quirks across the board in men this age who sign up for online dating and pen pal sites. And these quirks of yours have to stop. They have to be vanquished... Now!
I say this in all candor and so...
Let's cover a few things real quick. And let's hope these few things can be of real quick help to you. Remember, a friend is someone who knows the truth and doesn't keep it from you. I'm that friend. I've had to learn these things the hard way and hope you can benefit from my "findings".
That being said:
1. Your "handle" sucks Good Buddy!
O.K., CB radio-style handles went out with the 70s. I know. I was there. I can see that you're trying to be honest about who you are by picking that goofy grandpa-style user name, which you think is quaint and "neat", but really it just makes women roll their eyes. In a word, it sucks. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt that you've a perfectly good reason for the one you've chosen, but whatever the reason...the one you've chosen just makes you sound OLD! Ditch it. Put it out with the trash.
The bad thing about appearing old online is the fact that you've only got a short time...a few seconds... to attract attention to yourself in a positive way. It's usually a quick glance of your picture and so the right user name is part of that initial hook.
Let's be real here...You've already got so much working against you....gravity, the ever-ticking clock, gray hair, no hair, belly flab, competition with much younger guys, being out of practice when it comes to woo-ing members of the opposite sex....
...and so when you attach yourself to a moniker such as..."rustybucket" or "swineman" (because you raise pigs) or "krankyoldman" or "grandpaBill" or "gummingmyfood" when you're over 50 (or any age for that matter)...it's just not gonna cut it. The hard and cruel facts are that we are all out there searching...each of us sporting our own dating game handicap and we need all the help we can get and the best place to start is in an alluring profile name.
You may say, "I'm not out there looking to date. I just want to make friends online". Doesn't matter. (and I'm not sure I believe you anyway) If you were standing here in front of me, I'd throw some cold water in your face or slap you to wake you from your ignorant stupor. The reality is; we care about this stuff even if all we are looking for is someone to chat it up with online. It's just an undeniable truth. Don't fight it. Work with it!
Now I could go real "fatal" on you and defeatist and figure that if you're not wise enough to pick a better name then it's really too late to teach that dog how to hunt... how to pick up the scent and track down his prey. Might just be better off hanging out at the local V.F.W. throwing back some 50 cent Suds with your old war buddies cause it would seem the online realm doesn't suit you.
Hey, I'm 48, but I'm not looking to hang out on the front porch rocking back and forth with Grandpa. If I want that, I'll go walk next door and hang out with my dad for a couple of hours and we can talk about how great life is now compared to when he was a punk kid back in the 50s.
In a way, I think we are all looking to have the virtual air around us sizzle with a little bit of sexual tension and excitement ...a little bit of spontaneous, flirtatious banter. Let's face it...it's fun! and...it makes us feel good. Gets those good "feel good" hormones pumping through our bodies!!
And here's one for the younger guys. Those under 30: please stop walking around with a chip on your shoulder ready to be offended at the slightest perceived injustice. And I use the word perceived advisedly. This is where you guys can probably learn something from the older men. They are way more laid back in their approach and far less "in your face" and cocky.
Having said that, in true feminine fickle fashion, I have to admit that the cockiness....the strutting around like a rooster in the hen house, can be an alluring quality, but not when it's all show and no go, then it's just obnoxious.
Overall though, the best thing to do, as I've had to learn...is to approach the whole process with lighthearted and humorous receptors and just be yourself.
Be yourself, but be mindful that you have to use the correct bait if you're going to lay your hook into something worthy of being reeled in. Humor is a great way "in" and a great way to stay "in" and one of the best flirting devices of all time.
So, a great user name and be yourself and spice the whole mix with some humor.......that's a start.
Next time, let's talk about the pictures we post.
to be continued...
Monday, December 20, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Lady Godiva Revisited
The other day I saw an ad online for Lady Godiva Chocolate. When I lived in Pittsburgh, there used to be a Lady Godiva Chocolatier at the local Mall and even though I've never been big into chocolate (I prefer a great cheese, salami and fresh bread myself).. it was spectacular to inhale deeply whenever I walked by the store.
I noticed the Lady Godiva logo and realized there must be a story there. A story which I was not familiar with. A story which must, at the very least, be quite interesting...as it's a woman with long flowing hair..riding a horse...naked!
When I was younger, I remember lazying around on the couch one Saturday afternoon. Saturday mornings were cleaning day at our house and I was more or less done for the day and had switched on the TV to watch some cartoons. My mom came walking through the Family Room and saw me "not doing anything" and asked me: "Who do you think you are? Lady Godiva? Get up and do something". As a result, I was always under the impression that Lady Godiva was some filthy rich woman who had nothing better to do all day than lie around and have people wait on her hand and foot.
My mom used the Lady Godiva expression a lot. If I was sitting at the kitchen table, and asked someone who was "up" already to grab me an extra fork from the drawer or a jar of mustard from the fridge....my mom's response would be..."Who do you think you are? Lady Godiva? Get up and get it yourself".
So, somehow, in the early 70's, Lady Godiva moved from naked political activist to lazy woman who laid about and did nothing.
I checked a variety of sources on the story of Lady Godiva. It's a legend that took place in Coventry, England and each version has a slightly different take or spin.
The gist of it is this:
Lady Godiva was a real person. She was a noblewoman who lived during the late 11th Century and was married to the Earl of Mercia...Leofic. He ruled England under the Danish King Canute.
We'll skip over all of the messy minutia and focus only on the fact that there seems to have been some sort of oppressive tax or tribute enacted by Leofic. These were monies paid by the English to the invading Scandinavians and were called, the Heregeld.
Lady Godiva did not like this hefty tax placed upon the backs of the already struggling peasantry and so in the midst of a "discussion" with her husband, the Earl, he tells her he will repeal the tax if she will ride buck naked...on horseback (ouch!) through the main drag of Coventry on Market Day. Nothing would be covering her 'cept for her long, flowing locks.
Later versions of the story have Lady Godiva sending out an edict before her ride alerting the townspeople to close their shutters while she passes by. One naughty man, Tom, looked anyway...and hence the legend of Peeping Tom was born.
Lady Godiva rode through the streets and the tax was eliminated. Her husband did not think she'd take him up on his wager as she was known as being a very religious and pious woman. Hatred of taxes which oppress have driven some people to incredible lengths to see them repealed....lengths which seem to go against their personality and character. Such was the case with Lady Godiva.
Wouldn't that be great if that's all we had to do now? Ride through the streets "...nekkid as a jay bird..." (to quote the Streak)...and get some intrusive law or tax repealed? I'm game! Why not? Life's too short to not get in on a little tax-repealing-naked-horse-riding". I sure like the idea better than running a 5 or 10k race to support a good cause...don't you? *wink* *wink*
While pondering this idea the other day, I wondered if anyone would care or notice a woman or a group of women riding naked through the streets of a major city. The naked female form is now everywhere. There's a glut of nakedness on the market. A glut of websites and magazines and strip clubs where men can go to have their visual needs met. Why should they stand outside while some bouncing babes cantor by? Yup...it's a rhetorical question.
Would it really be so daring a move in the 21st Century to take to the saddle..."birthday suited up"? (thanks Barney). I suppose nowadays the ante would have to be upped and we would have to ride en masse to get any sort of positive exposure (pun intended...ya'll are welcome!) Maybe instead of one of those boring and generic Million Man Marches on Washington D.C., we can do A Billion Bare Naked Bouncing Babes Ride Horseback on D.C. for the repeal of one of the many (take your pick) onerous taxes churned out and exacted upon us by a House and Senate which more and more resemble not an elected group of representatives, but an elected group of greedy goons who tell us we need to tighten our belts while they buy themselves bigger pants to fit their ever burgeoning waistlines......(and she finally exhales).
Am I ranting? ha...guess I am. I'll stop now.
And even if the Billion Babe Ride doesn't bring in the desired results, all is not lost. Some of us babes might at least get some phone numbers or email addresses from some eligible bachelors...who will have already seen us naked in the light and so all of that awkward first-time-seeing-me-naked-crap...will be stripped away (two totally off the cuff naked puns in a row...the girl's got her mojo on today). It's a win-win.
We'll wait till Summer though, o.k.? I'll just have to cross my fingers that there will still be onerous taxes and eligible bachelors to "ride" for (pun also intended...hey, when you've got it, you've got it!) come June (April, here in the South).
One more Godiva fact that I found in my research. Did you know that Dr. Seuss (one of my very favorite authors) wrote a book back in 1939...(when he was writing for adults)...entitled: Seven Lady Godivas: The True Facts Concerning History's Barest Family. It bombed out and if you put it in its historical context, one can probably find a myriad of reasons why it failed. It was then reprinted in 1987. I guess it was an attempt at adult writing and he considered it a great failure, but of course now the book is a curiosity for those of us who grew up cutting our teeth on Seuss and in turn raised our children on the writings of the good Dr.
I had to go to eBay and score myself a copy of the book. I got one for less than $5.00 w/free shipping. Not too shabby. It's a 1987 model cause there's no way in hell I'm going to buy a 1939 First Edition...not with gas at $2.70-something a gallon!!!
For those of you who've been following the blog, you know that each month I post a pose. These poses will become the ones I will use when I take my Pinup pictures next April and those will then be assembled into a calendar. I like the painting of Lady Godiva which I've posted above. I have no idea where I'm going to get a horse or even a fake one for that matter, but I don't care, I want to recreate that pose of this pious woman who unleashes her inner wild side...for a good cause.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Heart-to-Heart
I have to admit that the past week or two... and really, more like the past month or two... have brought about one wave of heartache after another.
I was just made aware the other night of a second death in our family. It's not only the second death, but it's the second death in which a baby has been lost during childbirth.
The thing about losing a baby which is unique to most other deaths is the whole lead up and fanfare by which they're ushered into this world. The birth of a baby is a highly anticipated event, not only for the mom and dad, but for everyone else who orbits their life.
During the months in which babies are being prepared on the "inside", HUGE preparations are being made on the "outside" both emotionally and materially. Having given birth to two children myself, I know what's involved, but more than that, as a woman, I know what transpires in the heart and mind of that Mother.
I doubt I could ever find words adequate enough to express the love and the bond and the joy which occurred before I ever laid eyes on either of my daughters. I doubt there's a day which goes by now that I don't look at them or talk to them and feel that same love and bond and joy. O.K., so I'm a big softee; I'll admit that, but my point is that before the child ever exits the womb, there is an intense bond.
Not wanting to leave daddies out of the pre-birth bonding process, I'll say that I know of many an instance where the dad's voice caused a noticeable reaction from the baby while still in the womb and that same daddy's voice was able to exert calm on the child when it was fussy...out of the womb.
Family and friends spend months gushing over ultrasound pictures (or pretending to), they buy gifts, they help prepare a special space for the baby in the home, motifs are chosen, a name is selected with great care and it seems that in direct proportion to the ever burgeoning belly, comes an ever burgeoning excitement for the Big Day!
So, when the big day finally does arrive and close family and friends take off work to join the "happy couple" at the hospital...
...the womenfolk making ready those first hospital gifts...
...the menfolk making ready the lighting of the celebratory cigars...
...but instead of a precious new life to celebrate...
a life...screaming in all its newborn splendor...
there is instead... silence and death and mourning...
...well, as an onlooker, it's difficult to know what to say or do. The atmosphere becomes instantly thick and heavy. Emotions run the gamut and intuitively you know that this is going to be a very long process of healing and recovery.
On the other end of the life cycle, I've got two older family members who are both hanging by a thread with brain cancer. Yesterday I got a scare because my brother called to tell me that one of those family members passed away in the morning. I left the house immediately to gather with my loved ones... only to find out that my brother had sort of jumped the gun. He'd gotten news from a weeping family member and the whole conversation was misconstrued to the point where he thought there was a death.
It was an emotional morning, to say the least, and we were all overjoyed to find out that the inevitable had been delayed slightly longer. I was especially overjoyed, as there are things I'd like to say to this person and now I've got my chance before they really do pass away and I'm left with nothing but regret.
So, my dear friends, the Christmas Season 'round these parts has been one which has put life in stark perspective and all of these things swirling around me have been quite a distraction. It's sort of difficult to inspire oneself to think smouldering and sultry thoughts when oneself is being called out to weep for the death of a family member who isn't dead at all. lol.
Thanks for standing by.
I was just made aware the other night of a second death in our family. It's not only the second death, but it's the second death in which a baby has been lost during childbirth.
The thing about losing a baby which is unique to most other deaths is the whole lead up and fanfare by which they're ushered into this world. The birth of a baby is a highly anticipated event, not only for the mom and dad, but for everyone else who orbits their life.
During the months in which babies are being prepared on the "inside", HUGE preparations are being made on the "outside" both emotionally and materially. Having given birth to two children myself, I know what's involved, but more than that, as a woman, I know what transpires in the heart and mind of that Mother.
I doubt I could ever find words adequate enough to express the love and the bond and the joy which occurred before I ever laid eyes on either of my daughters. I doubt there's a day which goes by now that I don't look at them or talk to them and feel that same love and bond and joy. O.K., so I'm a big softee; I'll admit that, but my point is that before the child ever exits the womb, there is an intense bond.
Not wanting to leave daddies out of the pre-birth bonding process, I'll say that I know of many an instance where the dad's voice caused a noticeable reaction from the baby while still in the womb and that same daddy's voice was able to exert calm on the child when it was fussy...out of the womb.
Family and friends spend months gushing over ultrasound pictures (or pretending to), they buy gifts, they help prepare a special space for the baby in the home, motifs are chosen, a name is selected with great care and it seems that in direct proportion to the ever burgeoning belly, comes an ever burgeoning excitement for the Big Day!
So, when the big day finally does arrive and close family and friends take off work to join the "happy couple" at the hospital...
...the womenfolk making ready those first hospital gifts...
...the menfolk making ready the lighting of the celebratory cigars...
...but instead of a precious new life to celebrate...
a life...screaming in all its newborn splendor...
there is instead... silence and death and mourning...
...well, as an onlooker, it's difficult to know what to say or do. The atmosphere becomes instantly thick and heavy. Emotions run the gamut and intuitively you know that this is going to be a very long process of healing and recovery.
On the other end of the life cycle, I've got two older family members who are both hanging by a thread with brain cancer. Yesterday I got a scare because my brother called to tell me that one of those family members passed away in the morning. I left the house immediately to gather with my loved ones... only to find out that my brother had sort of jumped the gun. He'd gotten news from a weeping family member and the whole conversation was misconstrued to the point where he thought there was a death.
It was an emotional morning, to say the least, and we were all overjoyed to find out that the inevitable had been delayed slightly longer. I was especially overjoyed, as there are things I'd like to say to this person and now I've got my chance before they really do pass away and I'm left with nothing but regret.
So, my dear friends, the Christmas Season 'round these parts has been one which has put life in stark perspective and all of these things swirling around me have been quite a distraction. It's sort of difficult to inspire oneself to think smouldering and sultry thoughts when oneself is being called out to weep for the death of a family member who isn't dead at all. lol.
Thanks for standing by.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
and I quote.....
"I like my clothes to be tight enough to show I'm a woman... but loose enough to show I'm a lady."
MAE WEST
MAE WEST
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Post-Divorce Era Dating, Part 2 (cont'd)
the blind date continued....
I have to admit, that from across the parking lot, the guy looked alright. He was driving this incredibly large, incredibly awesome pickup truck. Extended cab, extended bed, blacked out windows. I'm not "into" pickup trucks, but this guy was a building contractor and so his choice of vehicle made perfect sense. Besides, I tend not to make assessments nor to be impressed with a man's "ride", but it did give off the impression that he had his act together.
Before I proceed...let me revisit the whole idea of hearing this guys voice and the fact that he was obviously a heavy smoker because it was my first sign that I should have just bolted. I can't stress how bad it was. He sounded like he might cough up multiple hair balls at any moment. It's the sort of voice that engages that sympathetic clearing of your throat reflex. I'm real bad that way, if someone has allergies and their nose tickles, my nose tickles. If they have a coughing fit, then I'm right there with them...clearing my throat in solidarity. I just wasn't looking forward to a date with a guy who would only be thinking about when he could escape for his next smoke. Was I being absurd thinking this way? Stay tuned and find out....
As much as I was kicking myself for going out on a blind date, I went ahead and planned an alternate location with the Marlboro Man. I couldn't bring myself to ditch him there in the parking lot. I knew he was a nice guy from our email conversations, but I was seeing all the signs that this whole night was going to be a bust. Did I talk myself into hating it ahead of time? Of course I did!!! One of the greatest things about being single again is the freedom to do what you want and when you want. I felt no freedom at that moment. I felt locked in and bound to my sense of propriety and social etiquette. (damn sense of propriety! damn you social etiquette! I hate you both!...lol....)
Remember how that I mentioned earlier in this story that I didn't want to go to dinner? Guess what? He suggested a steak house and I found myself driving to spend dinner at a restaurant with a guy I already determined I wasn't going to enjoy spending the night with. And, fun fact: my intuitions may not always be right, but I do enjoy a high success rate. My intuition was telling me to just turn around, pick up a 3-count chicken strips meal from the Chik-fil-A drive thru and go home, put on my jammies, pop in a good movie...and call it a night.
No such thing occurred.
Instead, I pulled into the parking lot, saw him get out of his truck (he still didn't know what I was driving or that I was there...spying), and I COULD NOT believe HOW SHORT he was. Judging from a distance I put him at 5'4". I remember dropping my head to the steering wheel in distress and beeping the horn, which then gave me away. He stood on the front steps of the restaurant, "smoking" a cigarette and he turned in my direction when I beeped. Damn horn!! lol.
So, here I was...face to face with the moment of truth. I went to open the door and my feet felt heavy, like they were blocks of cement. It reminded me of all the times as a young girl that I had to go places against my will. I had to go because my mother "said so". One of those places I hated going was to get my hair cut. I always wanted to grow my hair long and my mom always wanted me to keep it short...especially in the Summer because I swam competitively. We would pull up in front of The Hair Barn in New Jersey and I would exit our 1972 pale yellow, Country Squire Station Wagon with trendy fake wood siding, with feet that felt heavy....like they were blocks of cement. And here I was in the year 2010 having the same experience. It felt just as awful as it did when I was a young girl.
O.K., from this story, you might gather that I'm really, really picky.....well, maybe so....but really, who among you isn't picky when it comes to dating? You want what you want what you want. I wanted what I wanted what I wanted. And what I wanted at that moment was to rewind the tape and go back to the day that I accepted a blind date so I could smack myself into reason because as I walked up to the front of the restaurant and surveyed him further, I saw that he had a mustache. No big deal. I've dated guys with mustaches before. Hell, I'm from the Northeast and I think it was a law back in the 80s that all Italian men were to have a mustache (fun fact...law or not...a ton of Italian women had mustaches too!!)...so I dated men with "stashes", but nowadays if you sport a mustache or a goatee, etc, you groom it. You thin it out. It's not the 70's dudes!!! Unless you're like a mountain man and you don't really give a flying leap about style and fashion and you just let it grow wild and untamed...then you groom it. And Hey, mountain man... good luck with that!!!
We made our introductions and went in to sit down. Not only was this guy like 5'4", but I'm 5'6" and I was wearing platform shoes, as I am wont to do...which probably put me at around the 5'7" mark...thereby making me about three inches taller than this guy. Yes, let's be seated....quick...!!
He was a very nice mellow guy. He hailed from Jersey, as do I and so we had a lot in common to talk about, but I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying because I couldn't get past his nervous mannerisms. To begin with, he was four or five years younger than me, but he looked older...number one, because of the mustache, which naturally ages, and number two, because of the effects the years of smoking had on his appearance. As he talked, his hands were constantly moving about. First he would part his bushy, untrimmed "stash", then he would straighten the collar on his shirt, then he would fiddle with his silverware, then he would straighten his napkin, then he would touch his mustache again, then he would fix his sleeves and then...as dinner was winding down (not soon enough in my book)...he did something which totally grossed me out and I made the move to pay and excuse myself. All the while that he's talking; he takes his finger and digs in his right ear.....like he's prospecting for gold....and he pulls out his "find".....he looks at it.....and he then wipes it on his shirt.....and then parts his mustache and then puts his finger to his mouth.
I could tell that he had no idea what he just did and I'm not sure that what I was feeling on the inside registered on my face...because if it did, he didn't show any signs of picking up on it. I figured it was probably because ever since we sat down he had only a few words going on in his brain ......."I need a cigarette"....."cigarette....cigarette...cigarette....gotta have a cigarette....".
We got up to leave and he picked up a few mints on the way out and a toothpick. That's sort of the thing down here.....you prove how "hick" you are by talking with a toothpick in your mouth. So, the guy starts digging in his teeth while we are out on the front steps saying our goodbyes. He then offers to walk me to my car, and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he popped in a mint and ditched the "pick". He seemed to be gearing up for a goodnight kiss, but I dodged that bullet by getting into my van.......sitting down....saying a quick thank you and goodbye and closing the door and peeling out. I did notice in my rear view mirror that he lit up a cigarette the moment I pulled away. I never saw him again.
Moral of this story:
Don't do blind dates unless you know someone who knows the other person and you trust that person's judgement with your whole heart and and whole soul....otherwise, you too might find yourself watching a grown man (or woman) pick crud out of their ear and wipe it on their shirt in total clueless fashion.
I have to admit, that from across the parking lot, the guy looked alright. He was driving this incredibly large, incredibly awesome pickup truck. Extended cab, extended bed, blacked out windows. I'm not "into" pickup trucks, but this guy was a building contractor and so his choice of vehicle made perfect sense. Besides, I tend not to make assessments nor to be impressed with a man's "ride", but it did give off the impression that he had his act together.
Before I proceed...let me revisit the whole idea of hearing this guys voice and the fact that he was obviously a heavy smoker because it was my first sign that I should have just bolted. I can't stress how bad it was. He sounded like he might cough up multiple hair balls at any moment. It's the sort of voice that engages that sympathetic clearing of your throat reflex. I'm real bad that way, if someone has allergies and their nose tickles, my nose tickles. If they have a coughing fit, then I'm right there with them...clearing my throat in solidarity. I just wasn't looking forward to a date with a guy who would only be thinking about when he could escape for his next smoke. Was I being absurd thinking this way? Stay tuned and find out....
As much as I was kicking myself for going out on a blind date, I went ahead and planned an alternate location with the Marlboro Man. I couldn't bring myself to ditch him there in the parking lot. I knew he was a nice guy from our email conversations, but I was seeing all the signs that this whole night was going to be a bust. Did I talk myself into hating it ahead of time? Of course I did!!! One of the greatest things about being single again is the freedom to do what you want and when you want. I felt no freedom at that moment. I felt locked in and bound to my sense of propriety and social etiquette. (damn sense of propriety! damn you social etiquette! I hate you both!...lol....)
Remember how that I mentioned earlier in this story that I didn't want to go to dinner? Guess what? He suggested a steak house and I found myself driving to spend dinner at a restaurant with a guy I already determined I wasn't going to enjoy spending the night with. And, fun fact: my intuitions may not always be right, but I do enjoy a high success rate. My intuition was telling me to just turn around, pick up a 3-count chicken strips meal from the Chik-fil-A drive thru and go home, put on my jammies, pop in a good movie...and call it a night.
No such thing occurred.
Instead, I pulled into the parking lot, saw him get out of his truck (he still didn't know what I was driving or that I was there...spying), and I COULD NOT believe HOW SHORT he was. Judging from a distance I put him at 5'4". I remember dropping my head to the steering wheel in distress and beeping the horn, which then gave me away. He stood on the front steps of the restaurant, "smoking" a cigarette and he turned in my direction when I beeped. Damn horn!! lol.
So, here I was...face to face with the moment of truth. I went to open the door and my feet felt heavy, like they were blocks of cement. It reminded me of all the times as a young girl that I had to go places against my will. I had to go because my mother "said so". One of those places I hated going was to get my hair cut. I always wanted to grow my hair long and my mom always wanted me to keep it short...especially in the Summer because I swam competitively. We would pull up in front of The Hair Barn in New Jersey and I would exit our 1972 pale yellow, Country Squire Station Wagon with trendy fake wood siding, with feet that felt heavy....like they were blocks of cement. And here I was in the year 2010 having the same experience. It felt just as awful as it did when I was a young girl.
O.K., from this story, you might gather that I'm really, really picky.....well, maybe so....but really, who among you isn't picky when it comes to dating? You want what you want what you want. I wanted what I wanted what I wanted. And what I wanted at that moment was to rewind the tape and go back to the day that I accepted a blind date so I could smack myself into reason because as I walked up to the front of the restaurant and surveyed him further, I saw that he had a mustache. No big deal. I've dated guys with mustaches before. Hell, I'm from the Northeast and I think it was a law back in the 80s that all Italian men were to have a mustache (fun fact...law or not...a ton of Italian women had mustaches too!!)...so I dated men with "stashes", but nowadays if you sport a mustache or a goatee, etc, you groom it. You thin it out. It's not the 70's dudes!!! Unless you're like a mountain man and you don't really give a flying leap about style and fashion and you just let it grow wild and untamed...then you groom it. And Hey, mountain man... good luck with that!!!
We made our introductions and went in to sit down. Not only was this guy like 5'4", but I'm 5'6" and I was wearing platform shoes, as I am wont to do...which probably put me at around the 5'7" mark...thereby making me about three inches taller than this guy. Yes, let's be seated....quick...!!
He was a very nice mellow guy. He hailed from Jersey, as do I and so we had a lot in common to talk about, but I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying because I couldn't get past his nervous mannerisms. To begin with, he was four or five years younger than me, but he looked older...number one, because of the mustache, which naturally ages, and number two, because of the effects the years of smoking had on his appearance. As he talked, his hands were constantly moving about. First he would part his bushy, untrimmed "stash", then he would straighten the collar on his shirt, then he would fiddle with his silverware, then he would straighten his napkin, then he would touch his mustache again, then he would fix his sleeves and then...as dinner was winding down (not soon enough in my book)...he did something which totally grossed me out and I made the move to pay and excuse myself. All the while that he's talking; he takes his finger and digs in his right ear.....like he's prospecting for gold....and he pulls out his "find".....he looks at it.....and he then wipes it on his shirt.....and then parts his mustache and then puts his finger to his mouth.
I could tell that he had no idea what he just did and I'm not sure that what I was feeling on the inside registered on my face...because if it did, he didn't show any signs of picking up on it. I figured it was probably because ever since we sat down he had only a few words going on in his brain ......."I need a cigarette"....."cigarette....cigarette...cigarette....gotta have a cigarette....".
We got up to leave and he picked up a few mints on the way out and a toothpick. That's sort of the thing down here.....you prove how "hick" you are by talking with a toothpick in your mouth. So, the guy starts digging in his teeth while we are out on the front steps saying our goodbyes. He then offers to walk me to my car, and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he popped in a mint and ditched the "pick". He seemed to be gearing up for a goodnight kiss, but I dodged that bullet by getting into my van.......sitting down....saying a quick thank you and goodbye and closing the door and peeling out. I did notice in my rear view mirror that he lit up a cigarette the moment I pulled away. I never saw him again.
Moral of this story:
Don't do blind dates unless you know someone who knows the other person and you trust that person's judgement with your whole heart and and whole soul....otherwise, you too might find yourself watching a grown man (or woman) pick crud out of their ear and wipe it on their shirt in total clueless fashion.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
and I quote.....
"A nymphomaniac is a women as obsessed with sex as the average man."
Mignon McLaughlin
Subjects Which Were Once Taboo, Part III
A continuation. If you didn't read parts I and II...probably no big deal, but it might help to put this in context.
As to the knowledge I received when I visited Priscilla's for the first time (and yes, I'm a regular customer now):
Well...
Like most women.... I never could grasp the idea of why men seemed to "have" to watch porn on videos or to read porn in magazines. I never got turned on just looking at some random half-naked guy in a magazine and any porn that I had seen, in my 20's...well, it just made me laugh. I found it sort of goofy and corny and predictable and on the campy side. My way of thinking was that if a man had to watch porn to pleasure himself, then the woman and/or women in that man's life was/were doing something wrong. I found out, that just isn't the case, and my mind has been definitely changed to see the value which some porn provides to men and women alike.
During that first visit; I gained a vast amount of information concerning various and sundry sex toys. Here too was another area where I had never fully explored what was available and neither did I know how to incorporate it into my life. No relationship, I don't care how healthy it is...can grow deeper by travelling on the same plane...because after a while the journey on that straight plane becomes a little on the boring and predictable side...something akin to a flat lined electrocardiogram. The "patient" needs an injection of adrenaline or a defibrillator...chest compressions....something...anything......!!!!!
To keep a relationship from flat lining...something has to change and at Priscilla's there are shelves stocked with "change"....lol.
The dialogue has definitely changed and these subjects which were once taboo are now mainstream topics of conversation. Women are having Tupperware-style parties only now they are selling Sexual Relationship Enhancing products. That woman in line with the three screaming kids in front of you at the grocery store....yeah her.....she's could be one of the many women who is going home tonight and once the kiddies are fed and in bed.....she will host a party with her gaggle of friends and they are going to squawk and cackle and giggle all night over these fun products which have changed their whole way of life. They are happier and healthier and they nag less and they have sex more! It's a win-win!!!
to be continued......
As to the knowledge I received when I visited Priscilla's for the first time (and yes, I'm a regular customer now):
Well...
Like most women.... I never could grasp the idea of why men seemed to "have" to watch porn on videos or to read porn in magazines. I never got turned on just looking at some random half-naked guy in a magazine and any porn that I had seen, in my 20's...well, it just made me laugh. I found it sort of goofy and corny and predictable and on the campy side. My way of thinking was that if a man had to watch porn to pleasure himself, then the woman and/or women in that man's life was/were doing something wrong. I found out, that just isn't the case, and my mind has been definitely changed to see the value which some porn provides to men and women alike.
During that first visit; I gained a vast amount of information concerning various and sundry sex toys. Here too was another area where I had never fully explored what was available and neither did I know how to incorporate it into my life. No relationship, I don't care how healthy it is...can grow deeper by travelling on the same plane...because after a while the journey on that straight plane becomes a little on the boring and predictable side...something akin to a flat lined electrocardiogram. The "patient" needs an injection of adrenaline or a defibrillator...chest compressions....something...anything......!!!!!
To keep a relationship from flat lining...something has to change and at Priscilla's there are shelves stocked with "change"....lol.
The dialogue has definitely changed and these subjects which were once taboo are now mainstream topics of conversation. Women are having Tupperware-style parties only now they are selling Sexual Relationship Enhancing products. That woman in line with the three screaming kids in front of you at the grocery store....yeah her.....she's could be one of the many women who is going home tonight and once the kiddies are fed and in bed.....she will host a party with her gaggle of friends and they are going to squawk and cackle and giggle all night over these fun products which have changed their whole way of life. They are happier and healthier and they nag less and they have sex more! It's a win-win!!!
to be continued......
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