FlashBacks & Memories

When I was a child I remember going to Disney World, spending the day at a playground with my mom, going to Home Depot with my dad, and at the end of the day before going to sleep my mind would replay all the good things of the day I wanted to remember.

As time moved forward and the pre-teen years set in, I spent time replaying memories of nights out at the ice skating rink with friends, holding hands with my first boyfriend, reliving a first kiss, or going through the crazy fun and silly trouble my friends and I got into. On the days mom and dad caught me in some misdeed, I spent a significant amount of time replaying why it was so totally worth it or wondering if I would ever make it out of my punishment alive!

Somewhere along the way instead of replaying memories at night I learned to miss people. It probably started when my dad died. I was only 13 then. That's when I found going to sleep could be painful. If I wasn't missing my dad and wondering why, I was missing my friends from changing schools all the time. If I wasn't missing my friends, I was missing a boy I liked.
In college I had a boyfriend but he moved away. So, when I wasn't partying, when I couldn't do anymore school work, and when the daily grind was done, I'd come home - alone. He'd call and we'd talk until one of us fell asleep allthewhile missing one another.

At some point a month or two after my college boyfriend and I broke up I found I liked partying (via drinking) even though it wasn't really my jam before then. That part was fun. So, I kept the party going as much as I could. It felt good and subconsciously fixed a part of my life I didn't like - the mundane boring routine of doing what you're supposed to in life (instead of what you want to be doing in life) and then crawling into bed alone with your thoughts.

I learned that if you party enough, if you keep busy enough, if you just keep moving until you pass out enough that EUREKA! There are no more memories to replay! OMG Yes!  There's no one to miss! There's no pain! Finally! Just fade to black ....and asleep I could go.

If it was a fun night of partying that helped me to pass out, then replaying parts I could remember in the morning at will and wondering what happened the night before became a fun game of phone a friend for giggles and fun conversation. Regardless of why exhaustion and passing out occurred, waking up panicked to tell yourself "oh sh*t! I'm late for work... class... meetings... the beach .. the pool...etc.." became part of the thrill. The adrenaline rush got me high and kept me feeling 'alive' for a long while.

Then, during this "F* it, it's my life, my rules" state of mind came the man I would marry. What could possibly be better than replaying memories before bed, not partying because you're broke, or missing someone? I'll tell you... It's having sex and cuddling with someone who says they love you until you fall fast asleep...followed by waking up next to them.

That part of life was fun for a while too (and clearly there was more to it to that) until the babies came and he found his exit.. i.e. work.. work.. and more work.. Then he was really gone. I married a fireman and he spent a significant amount of time away working overtime and picking up shifts which included overnights. Sure it was for good cause. No one is stating otherwise. But, in the story of my life, it's what I got used to.

I spent a lot of days and nights missing him even more than before because it felt like I had to do this whole 'raise kids' thing alone. All I wanted to do at that point was sleep because of the sheer exhaustion of having health issues, energy problems, an unsupportive husband, being an on-demand wife, and trying to keep up with two toddlers. I wasn't taking care of me - even though I was trying. I also wasn't getting the support I needed inside my marriage to function on any level as a human being because I was hiding that anything was wrong. (Mostly because I didn't know anything was wrong.)

Life settled in.

After years and years, there seemed to be nothing to think about except for how crappy things are or solutions to fix life. Long gone were the days of anything worth crawling into bed for to play over in my mind on instant replay. My marriage and the birth of my children riddled with nothing but unhappy memories of more trauma and heartbreak. A few bright moments here and there but all of which came crashing down...

Him and I got divorced seven years later.

I spent every waking night the months leading up to and following the divorce missing my life (the fraction of happy parts I created). I also missed my home, the idea of having a family, meanwhile knowing I needed to get out and trying to figure out how to create a new life. Then I met someone new. He seemed to be everything I could have wanted .... That man just so happened to live in the land of far far far away. Despite him and I were never in a romantic relationship, I did think about him - often. I had him in a text and I was super used to being alone by now. In fact I preferred it.

Everyone knows you can't help how you feel about someone, no matter how much you try. So, I enjoyed my freedom and the fun I was finally having but, every night before bed for 4 years I spent secretly missing him... replaying when we met, ideas and fantasies of what it would be like to have someone who loves me and who I love, and I did this while dating everyone and anyone I could so I could find some balance in my life not based on pain or unrequited love. I suppose I just needed my fix. I needed to think about something other than my real hurt. But missing someone you care for had its moments filled with equal amounts of pain and hope.

This guy was super ideal for me.  Far enough away to not be able to depend on him so I could fix my life on my terms (and prove to myself and especially my ex that I could) and close enough to hope for him to come back - eventually - so I could have my happily-ever-after. I wanted him to save me while not saving me. And in his own way, he did. But, more than anything, I wanted to save myself. And I did that too. (That story is a book in itself.) Contradiction? You bet! Confusing for you... even more confusing for me to live it.

Two words: Cognitive Dissonance.  [A term I've come to love that sums it all up.In the field of psychology, cognitive dissonance is the mental discomfort (psychological stress) experienced by a person who simultaneously holds two or more contradictory beliefs, ideas, or values.] 

Eventually came when reality caught up with me that I couldn't have what I wanted. A place of belonging. Happy memories. A soul-connection just as much as a physical connection. I missed him.... or thoughts of him. But really I missed the ideals and Utopian dream of forever. This theme seems to have played out until one day I said, "F* this sh*t. I'm done."


I started daydreaming more and laying down at night even less. I'm a 24-hour woman. I always thought I was insanely ambitious (and I am) however I have to wonder if it's just been easier to keep going and not think... i.e. pass out?

Getting into bed to replay the bills you can't pay, the kids you can't spend time with, and the hurt that's been caused from every broken relationship along the way just doesn't feel like a good night sleep. It's exhausting. Why lay down to relive trauma?

I gave up dreaming about love, commitment, or anything related to family at age 33. I'm 36 now. So, if you add it all up that's 21 years worth of exhausting myself throughout my life all for the sake of not having to think about anything before bed.


Somewhere along this journey in the aftermath of love lost I intentionally began trying to forget my life all together - not just before bed. I started sleeping during the day to escape (instead of remember). I tried to erase all of me and start over. No more memories. I couldn't seem to remember the good anyway. What are memories worth if the good comes with the bad attached to it? What are memories worth if not to bring joy... happiness... peace?

Writing has always been an escape and a cure. It also became the only way to remember my life after a while. All that was left is to forget my day to day. Mission accomplished. I no longer remember unless I'm writing. But then, I stopped writing too...
 

It turns out you can cover up broken pieces

in sparkles and glitter and all that illuminates 

be a hot mess

and still be something beautiful. 
-I*V

It's not like you know this is happening to you the way it's written above. Hindsight is 20/20. Sometimes you don't recognize how broken you are (still) until someone comes along and starts picking up all your pieces and putting you back together. They don't have to try to fix you. You may not even know that's what they're doing. They're just there. You're there for them too. Slowly, little by little things in your life start to change.

Them being around kicks off the dust to all the little hurts in your life you thought were discarded and said you didn't care about. Like the idea of having a family. Like wanting to be there for someone. Like wanting to deeply know the person you're sleeping with beyond a kinky shag here or there. But, apparently those hurts never got thrown away. They're still right there where you left them ...stuffed away... in a dark (already overfilled) closet of crap in the back of your mind.

For me, right now it feels like the door to the closet won't close anymore and all these little things I thought I discarded keep falling out. But... it's different this time ... because some of what is coming out is the really really good stuff. And I'm not sure how to handle that.


I've tried to explain time and time again to The Bearded Woodsman that I don't have memories. I don't remember the day before, let alone what I ate for breakfast. I don't make it a point to think about what we did hours ago or to daydream about forever. I never feel like I'm building anything - let alone a relationship. It's moment to moment. That's how I live. I'm not about to change that. I just keep moving to avoid getting stuck in emotional quicksand and sinking into what I call - life.

Perhaps my neurology is messed up? I can't seem to identify what I need or when. I never know if I'm hungry, or hurt, or pissed off, or lonely, or bored ... or just frustrated.... It simply plays out as super moody bitch mode or completely into it let's live the adventure full-throttle mode. There doesn't seem to be an in between.

Whatever is in front of me is what I'm focused on.  It plays out in my business life, with my social life, and in my relationships. Even in the good times. So things get out of balance for me quickly and often. Because if it's not biting me in the face, I forget it's even there.

I forget to eat a lot of the time (#shesHangry) and sometimes can't figure out why my body doesn't let me know that I'm not losing my sh*t, I just need food. It's like when a baby cries and no one knows what it wants so you have to go through all the steps over and over and over again hoping to soothe whatever the problem seems to be... yea, that'd be me - often. Remembering to eat (and not live on Starbucks coffee) is my own weird psychological chore. 

There is so much chaos consciously and subconsciously playing out in me daily that it's hard for me to keep up let alone allow and accept someone else seeing the mess inside the cyclone of my mind in real-time and in real-life. Why should I let anyone get so close?  Yet, when it comes to The Bearded Woodsman, I suppose I let it happen out of necessity. Except the necessity in this situation was for his benefit, not mine, even if I am finding all kinds of feels along the way.  He needed someone and a solution to a temporary problem. And... well, I know what that feels like. Even if I decided long ago that I don't need anyone, I remember what it felt like when I did need someone and they weren't actually there. In this situation I have to force myself to take pause from my mind and to make mental notes to try and remember things that should be, and would be important if he were someone to stay in my life - indefinitely.

That is hard for me to admit. It's hard to feel subhuman in how much effort it takes to come out of myself to try and be there for another on a level that requires continuous commitment to details (i.e. true reciprocal friendship). The desire to want to be there with him and for him and to try and be a normal human being for a change is forcing me to do something that I've since long forgotten how to do - remember. 

It is hard for me emotionally.
It's hard for me mentally.
It's super f*ing hard for me. Period.

It's like I'm taking inventory of our time together. And I am. Because I'm the type of person who doesn't always understand the value of something until it's gone...and I know this about myself. But, I don't actually think I want this to be gone...
Trying really hard not to f* it all up even though I'm sure I totally could.

I've made it a point to get close to people but not too close. Keep it fun, keep it festive, and get out before anyone sees the side of me I don't want them to see. I feel a bit handicapped if you will. Like a person with Alzheimer or Dementia. I take notes and try and find reasons why I'd want to remember things. I have to make associations and often try to link to numbers of specific days if I can because it helps. I don't think that's normal. I do however, believe that's my norm of having been through all the trauma in my life and how I process the world around me these days.

I take in moments with him and his kids and tell myself to file this under "good memories, try your damndest to remember!" I'll say something to myself like, 'Pay attention. Jot this down. This may not be super meaningful in this moment but, I know one day if he weren't here anymore, I would want to replay this over and over again as a good/happy memory.' I also might say, 'Put this in your mental Rolodex and fight like mad not to forget.' The effort is there but the automated short-term memory doesn't seem to be. I still can't remember yesterday without excruciating effort.

But the other night was so f*ing different. It startled me in fact. I climbed into bed with The Bearded Woodsman even though I wasn't at all tired. I had a book to read but didn't reach for it. Instead I cuddled up with him as he went to sleep. I guess I just wanted to be next to him for while. To take in this moment. To relish in the fact that something so unintentional could add so much fulfillment to my life. It was my intention to get back up and work however, that didn't happen. Instead I found myself ....drumroll.... happy... to lay down and reminisce.

I don't know what clicked in me but something definitely did...

After getting all comfy and cozy, out of nowhere my mind started replaying the day. Suddenly, I was back at the restaurant we had only left hours ago having dinner with his four kiddos. I was replaying laughing and carrying on, watching his blue eyes light up, seeing the frustration on his face of not knowing how to make this divorce he's in any easier on the kids but watching everyone be happy just to have time together. The jokes we made (like when a lemon drops), getting to see his girls smiley and all chatty with him, taking his oldest daughter shopping earlier in the day, playing a crossword puzzle with his littlest baby girl ... how his boys looked so covered in light and bright and smiley when we pulled up into the driveway to get them...  how much siblings get on one another's nerves... talking with his oldest son ....hearing his youngest boy laughing.... and then the best of the best for me was at the end of the night both of his daughters sharing their ice cream by picking out little bits just for me.. Who does that? What kid says, "Here? Want some of my ice cream? This is the best part," and hands it over? It was incredibly thoughtful of both of them. And sweet.

Laying next to him that night felt like I was 9 years old and had just been to DisneyWorld replaying all the fun I had earlier that day. I am starting to feel all these memories. I'm aware and processing life. I literally felt as I did when I was a child. It was nothing out of the ordinary anyone would make a mental note of. In fact, there was a lot of frustration. It was just dinner. How many dinners have I been to with my kids? But something about it...The night was so simple, and silly, and ... meaningful even if only to me. It felt - real. It was as if something in me was effortlessly asking to remember those moments. I didn't have to try. They were just there.

More and more I've started to remember things lately. How him and I met ...how we ended up hanging out together ... the ups and downs ... and the absolute reDICKulousness of it all laughing about who knows what at god knows what hours. All this coupled with my incessant need to let it all go as if it never happened. Yet, somehow the feel good memories keep circling back around. This is all so confusing to me at times. Mostly because it reminds me of being married - something I've long since gotten over.

Often I feel like I can't handle the boring, the mundane, the chore-like stuff that couples do. I've been living a fantasy life for a while now. The kind where you dress up, show up all sparkly, get what you need, give what they want, and disappear for a while until they call again. It's a life that doesn't need anyone to do things with, that doesn't ask for permission, and makes no apologies. But, I've been having flashbacks to my marriage...my house.... my life. The life I left behind. Do I really want something like this again? Because this feels all too real.

It wasn't like being married was all bad all the time. But even so, every good thing I start to remember about marriage is followed by immeasurable amounts of pain and remembering what happens next. The arguing. Being broke. Trying to depend on one another and the constant let downs. Promises being broken. And that's just what I'd consider a normal marriage to look like.

Being in a toxic relationship with someone means the good is only good until it goes bad. You plan for it. You know it's coming. You don't ever have to wonder if the shoe will drop because you can expect it to. In fact, knowing the bad is coming is the only thing you can truly depend on in a marriage such as that. And that was my life.

Walking away from that type of relationship isn't easy because it plays out over and over and over again with an ex in every text communication or email or court filing about the kids. When does it end? When do the flashbacks and the emotional roller coaster of a bad marriage stop and the new memories replace what was so that I can have what will be?

It's hard to see relationships any other way when that's all you know, even though you see it played out differently with friends or family and on TV.

Is it possible that I am in a healing process? Because the more The Bearded Woodsman and I are together, the more I start remembering fun things we've done... that I'm alive ... and that perhaps there's something to be said for investing once again in the human experience.

If I could master how to live a life filled with pain, how much more could I live in a life filled with happiness? With laughter? With someone to rely on who can also rely on me?

If I smack the good memories from the now together with the bad memories of a failed marriage and subtract the fact I want to remember absolutely nothing about being married, it makes things insanely confusing. Is my psyche merging or splitting? Am I healing or is this a word of warning?

This relationship isn't based on pain and that's a new experience for me. I'm taking it minute by minute to process what this feels like. As of today I'm not sure.

This is such a different experience in contrast to curling up in bed and overthinking, wondering how someone feels, or plotting how soon you can get rid of someone which would be nearly ever other man I've found myself with over the last six years.

Not having a relationship based on drama, problems, or highs and lows is new to me. It has taken me a great deal of patience (as I'm sure it has for him too) to get used to. I started trying to hide who I am (as if he didn't already know) because I don't actually want this to end even though in the beginning I was adamant to ride the tide until it fizzled out.  Life is just better when he's around. I can feel that welling up in my throat and it stays there and it hurts me. I wish I knew why.

I must tell that man I love you at least three dozen times a day but, I only say it in my head. I can't say it out loud. It hurts me. And I don't know why. It hurts me now even typing it. Yet, I can feel how much I feel when he's around. And that part doesn't hurt. That part feels really really really good for a change. It's not a needy love. It's not that rush to love I'm talking about or the chemical fix of feel goods. It's the slow and steady pace of real conversation. Of understanding. Of not ditching out just because you don't have your sh*t together, or because they don't have their sh*t together.

I admit it was easier to talk to him when I wasn't counting on (hoping for) him to be around as much. I don't know what to say much of the time anymore because I still feel like I have to hide all that's broken inside me. I just wanted to be a good person and give someone who needed what I had to give a place to stop and rest for a while. I didn't ever dream in a million years that I would want him to stay. I didn't know you can fall in love with children the way you fall in love with someone else... and I mean that in the purest of ways. Because my idea of love is simply wanting to be there with someone, and for someone, no matter what they're going through. There's no expectation of return other than mutual shared respect, care, and understanding for one another's being. No blaming, shaming, or making one another feel bad about who they are.. or as if they aren't on the same team. Call it Utopian but, it's how I feel about this situation. And it truly scares the f* out of me. Didn't I already go through this once? Wasn't I already living this fantasy only to realize that I still have scares and self-doubt based on how much someone (my husband) hated me?

Going through this experience with someone new, letting someone be a part of my life - a real part - and see all the mess of me makes me wonder just how much I've never been loved the way a girl (a wife) deserves to be. It makes perfect sense why I never bother to look back. What should have been happy memories of a marriage and having two children were laced in pain, arguments, and the a devaluing of my human existence. I was there to serve and on occasion be served, but only into whatever fantasy my ex was playing out at the time.

I can't remember the last time I felt anything meaningful or had memories, other than a few great moments with some pretty cool people. None of which lasted long. But more and more, my past gets erased and new memories come out to play with ease. Even ones I thought I couldn't remember. Every time I effortlessly remember something The Bearded Woodsman and I do, I find myself taking pause to notice I feel different. That's when I realize, I'm smiling. It's as if small fragments of my life gets restored and replaced with happy moments worth being replayed while laying down to sleep instead of the pain that stays hidden and tucked away. It's as if I get to keep something for me that's happy long-term. And more and more without effort. Perhaps my life is changing in a powerful and positive way ...  And I dig that. It makes me want to get my sh*t together so I can build the life I want for me... and if he stays, then perhaps he was just as important to my life as I was to his. Reciprocal. Well, this is a first. - I*V

Originally Written on August 16, 2017

Like really? I confess.. I'm a 4-year-old in disguise.

It's weird. The Bearded Woodsman can soooooo withstand without doing the deed for an inordinate amount of time. I mean, he does use this f*ed up predicament to his advantage.


So like, if I haven't finished a project or met some milestone he tells me I can't have it... (i.e. him)... Yes, apparently I'm 4 and had to go back to the basics with pleasure, work, and reward. If I do my work, I get my reward. Finally something that is motivating to me. That only took ..umm... a decade! But really, even when I am ready and do my work and finally get the gratifying fix of knowing he can't tell me 'no' there's literally no appropriate time to shag.

There's the morning rush, the workday schedules, the friends in and out of the house, the mom/dad I'm hungry, not to mention a lack of privacy all together of having kids running around. Like when was the last time your 10 year-old-knocked on a door? There's really only one place that makes sense ... the bathroom.... which only makes sense in adult-world because their mirrors and water to run and no messy clean up ... but yea, the bathroom is out of the question because mine is not only reDICKulously small but, also it would just be weird when the kids ask why him and I are in the bathroom. I mean, it's not like we're not married ...or like kids even remember what it was like when we were married ... to .. eh hem... different people. This is all new to me.

Close Quarters Leaves No Room for Nookie

The thing of it is.... when you're a divorced 30-something, have two kids, live with your mom, have a niece staying in your house for the summer, and you're in that super fun part of a relationship where you just want to get it on all-the-time ...living in close quarters makes life difficult.

As of today sex is more or less to be scheduled. [..and for the record, I'm not a 'schedule my mood' kind of girl.] The reality is there's no good place or time to have intimacy laced rendezvous with this new dude. Like wtf!

Between his four kids and mine, work schedules, friends coming over, sleepovers, my niece, my mom, and dinner time - someone is always home. Like OMG?! What event took place to even make all these children?! Do I even remember?! ...And now there's no time to play pretend make more??
Like Really?!! Is this my reality right now?!!
Yes... Life... Intolerably Cruel.

Adding insult to injury, despite having a boytoy to succumb to my sexual desires, these days I'm super frustrated. It's the same frustration I had right before I went AWOL with my bedroom acrobatic life.

See, a year ago I decided to get off the sex rollercoaster. 
I became celibate after my last would-be boyfriend who was less boy and more friend. I couldn't handle amazing sex followed by insane sex deprivation two-weeks later because he wasn't available, I was on my period, or we'd both met someone else. Then we'd get back together. Then instant replay the whole debacle again. [For the record, what kind of man doesn't have sex when a girl is on her period? That's just complete and utter bullsh*t.]

That time in my life was an extremely hormonal up and down life. I couldn't handle it so I cut it off. No more. I didn't want him. I didn't want anyone. I just wanted my life back to some baseline of normal without the constant hysteria.

Celibacy became my grand stand against my own humanity to get what I wanted out of life, to stay hormonally balanced, and to find love that fits.
Yea... apparently life had other plans.

Somehow I ended up with (...drumroll...) The Bearded Woodsman.
It happened about two months after a one-night sexcapade with Mr. 28-year-old who is a wild hot story I'll save for another day. Mr. 28-year-old probably did seemingly help me in the grand scheme of things even though I was insanely frustrated there wasn't round two. Just wanted to do him. He was like a Greek statue chiseled to perfection. But, he did end up fixing part of me. [i.e. The part that gets lost in emotion because a woman's sex drive is craving intimacy but not getting it.]

A very profound highlight of a woman's sexual chemical make-up is that once she gets it (...you know, the D*)... it's game-on. No need for romantic fantasies. A switch gets flipped and it is like the song, "Let's get physical" stuck on repeat.  It's kinda funny how that works. You see, the second after a woman who has been fiening gets what she wants, she can readily tell just about any man to take a hike. Meaning there has to be something else, something more than sex worth hanging on to. This is pretty much how The Bearded Woodsman and I ended up here. Because what lacks with others I found in him.

Even so, the relationship between him and I has been its own emotional rollercoaster of acceptance, denial, compassion, anger, excitement, love, and a struggle against a single-girl's need to stay free and single while hoping to have some kind of grounding and consistency somewhere in life. And as much as I absolutely adore him, I am seriously frustrated that now that I found something worth hanging on to I still can't have what I want - sex on demand to level me out!

Somedays I think he's more girl and I'm more guy.
In sum, he just doesn't put out enough.
He's so controlled. Disciplined. I envy that.
Me, I'm more get what I want or spend an inordinate amount of time denying myself what I want only to backtrack and beg for it after it's gone. True-Story!

The fun part is The Bearded Woodsman makes me work for what's underneath the beastly hairy mess of him. Sometimes I enjoy it, sometimes I don't. But, it's all for good reason. He'll say things like, "nope, not until your book is done," .. subsequently my book gets done less than a week later.... or he'll say, "no touchy the beard(ed guy) until you make that appointment you were talking about yesterday," ... and suddenly something that took me a week happens in less than a minute.
He's probably the kind of support I've always needed. Except when it's not.

So, here I am in a relationship of which the entire point of being in one was to fix the sex deprivation problem along with being with someone worth talking to both before and after sex. Instead I find I'm back in the same boat as I was before this all started.  The boat is called, 'No F*ckey F*ckey Till You Move Outie Outie.' Because in the story of my life, I'm continuously mixed up with men who don't have their own place while I don't have mine.

Is this happening to me because I'm in my mid-30s? Is this what sexual peak feels like? Cause I thought I had some time to spare here. This FRUSTRATION is an entirely different frustration than anything I've experienced before. I'm losing my f*ing mind with it! Men want to know what's wrong with their girlfriends/wives/sidechick? Well.. this is it!!

It's like I want to be lovey but can't be lovey with him which makes me bitchy because I can't have what I want (i.e. sex), and then I have to turn around and apologize for being bitchy which was only on account of wanting to have sex but not being able to which makes me want to have make-up sex but I can't so I have to turn all lovey again to make up for the bitchy leaving me incredibly frustrated for the cycle to start all over again.

Worse is that it feels like I'm the only one! I can't be the only chick out there experiencing this! Someone please tell me I'm not alone!

It's one thing to be on the prowl looking for someone worth connecting with to give you the emotional and/or sexual satisfaction when you need a fix.  But, it's quite another feeling when that person is right in front of you and there's like an alarm system on their pelvic region alerting an entire house that 'mommy/daddy' wants to get some. Enter CB1/2/3/4/5/6/7... Children, pets, and mom no longer have names. They are all generically named 'C*ck Blocker' with their assigned number following. [Your welcome family. : P Love you all! Mean it! I so totally do!]

-I*V

"He Smells Like Curry"

Now that I've found myself settling into (dare I say) a committed relationship...
     (...I know... it hurts me a little to say that too however, if anyone deserves the committed part in my book of players and playboys .. it'd be him. Little by little he's definitely moved his way to MVP in this phase of my life ...)  I've tuned into listening to my besties talk about their dating lives more and offering what I know about the birds and the bees. I'd love to say I'm not an expert but, I am. :) It's just me.
       I know what it's like to be single. I know what it's like to wait until you find what you're looking for or play around long enough to have fun with what you know you don't want. I know what it's like to go on date after date wishing some of the frogs you kiss could offer more than just great kisses and steak dinners...or terrible kisses for that matter....
      I also know what it's like to muddle through dating because you're bored, dating because you're on a 4-week cycle, dating because you're heartbroken, and dating because you truly desire to connect.
      I know exactly what it takes to let someone in, push someone out, and lean into someone until you find it oddly fits your life in ways you never expected. It's life. More so, it's my area of experience.
      The mental games we play with ourselves and with others can be so subtle and unintentional. We call it a game but most often we don't even know we're playing it because it's not so much a game as it is human nature. So is self-sabotage.
      It's my position everyone should get what they want in life, love, & happiness and live a balanced fulfilling and purposeful life. So why do we spend so much time pushing love away? Locking people out? And making excuses on why people don't fit based on variables that can easily be changed?


      When it comes to romance, the inability for women to be objective about dating and mating because they're envisioning romantic movies and fireworks on first dates is killing it for a lot of really great people. Setting expectations for dates and the way they are supposed to go is hurting our psyches and our chances for love.    
     So, when our date shows up in a Geo Metro instead of the Tesla we envisioned it kinda kills the vibe. But, what happens when he shows up in a Tesla but smells like curry? Well, we'd have to ask my friend Valerie because that's what happened to her yesterday.
       She had a fabulous time, went to a lavish early-evening dinner at a renowned posh restaurant followed by a coffee date because their time together was filled with excitement and smiles. She enjoyed his little kisses and the conversation but... he smelled ... and apparently tried to eat her face with the kiss goodnight. Instant buzz kill. 

(Yes, I heard all about it when she called at 9am this morning! Ironically I wanted to call her too and find out all the juicy details! What a bummer!)

    Something Valeria and I have in common is there's no shortage of men for girls like us. We're fun, beautiful from the inside out, and full of life. She has her career shit together, I'm working on mine. We're confident and approachable. We're the kind of chickies who enjoy enjoying life. We make life fun for our friends and family. Our standards in men seem to be different and that's good because we're two different people with different experiences and different needs. Generally speaking however, she's fallen victim to the bullsh*t.
   
   I understand her and her wants. She wants the guy who has it all. She wouldn't mind building something with someone and being beside him as he climbs his way to success but feels it would be easier to take the short road and have him already made. Why? Because like me, she is in her mid-thirties with children and is still hopeful for the utopian dreams of a family and finding some crazy version of happily-ever-after. Her lowest standard is about $60k with a stable position. I'd love to say that's materialistic but it's reality. No one wants to downgrade their children's lifestyles. It feels wrong. Time is ticking and living uncomfortably struggling everyday to survive is really not her cup a tea. Who can blame her. Certainly not me. Men who come with success and money tend to make it easier. The issue is when they smell like curry and kiss bad who can get passed it?

     The thing is it's never that simple. She's subconsciously waiting for this other guy she's emotionally attached to hoping he will (eventually) commit to her meanwhile finding all the reasons why it won't work with every eligible suitor along the way.
   It's interesting to me how easy it is to fall for the wrong guy. You know, the one that treats you like dirt but you'll be oddly committed to for the long-haul even though you try your damndest not to be. The one that feels like you won something because they are such significant a*holes that all of society feels they are incapable of love. (The truth is, in the end you do win something.. you win a life-long commitment to an a*hole and being treated like dirt! There's the lucky prize!)
     After what feels like at least 16 conversations about her moving on and just riding that horse until she finds an upgraded stallion to hop onto to fill her sexual appetite and desire for intimacy, she finally was asked out by a well-positioned man who smells of success, ambition, family ... and apparently curry ...    

    I had the pleasure of running into this man while they were on their date. He didn't smell. He was great! Sexy. It was impromptu and completely coincidental (even though I don't truly believe in coincidences). He is amazingly personable, introduced himself, wasn't shy and acted as if he were a long-time friend. I liked that in what should have felt like one of the most uncomfortable situations ever he handled his own, made me laugh, and kept the party going without the weirdness knowing full-well he was being judged by Valerie's best friend.
    I suppose the real question is how hard would it be to just say, "Hey, I'm really into you but, I'm not into Indian food so much and the curry scent doesn't vibe with me. Think we could work on that?" or how about, "Hey dude, can we try something different with this kiss? Like maybe less eat my face and more romantic?" Or, better and real-life answer, "Can we try something different with this kissing and let me lead for a bit this time?"

   Kissing is so teachable. And so are smells. Trust me. Bearded Woodsman once smelled like an alcoholic homeless man. But, that's what you get on a Sunday afternoon while he's mowing your lawn after waking up in your bed. : ) And that's just sexy! The point is, I'm getting what I want and it wasn't easy. Adapting and change and learning one another takes effort and conversation.

  Valerie has been actively dating for a few years and in those same years I've been actively dating waiting for someone who never came back around and having fun with my minions in the meantime. So, I feel for her.. and want to help. I found something meaningful along the way and I'm utterly convinced she can to if she simply opens up the conversation instead of nit-picking things that can easily be taught or corrected.

   So, while I ended up with a Bearded Woodsman who as of today smells like cedar and pine and Eucalyptus from his new beard oil that arrived in the mail a few days ago, she ended up on a date with Mr. Tesla Curry who may smell like Indian food but also has everything she's stated she's looking for. He's an ambitious CEO, makes the money she desires of an eligible suitor, has a family heritage she desires, and is in-tune emotionally with her needs. What more could a girl want? Perhaps a Christmas Tree air-freshener? Some Tumeric scented bath to join in the fun? A bottle of cologne to cover the scent?

    I have to wonder why he smelled like curry but perhaps even though he's Indian, he had good reason. Maybe Mr. Tesla Curry went to visit his mother who was cooking a new dish all just to ask advice on what to do and not do on this date because he wanted to make a great impression? For the love... I mean, this man waited 2-years to ask her out! I think she should stop subconsciously waiting for an emotionally unavailable a*hole and instead talk to it through by going on a second date with this dude. I liked him. Not for the long-haul but because she was smiley and happy when she was with him. It was nice to see Valerie smiling instead of being in constant turmoil and conflict over some guy who is an emotional rollercoaster of toxic mess (who she happens to have great sex with).

     Dating can be frustrating for everyone involved however, perhaps we all owe it to ourselves to be honest with one another and communicate?
    Maybe Mr. Tesla Curry didn't like that she's already tall and was wearing heels making him even shorter? Maybe he didn't like her scent of perfume because his mom uses the same Bath & Body Works scent? One never knows...
 
      Perhaps she could casually ask, "Hey, I noticed you smelled like Curry on our first date. Do you cook a lot?" Use it as an opener... not a closer. Just my thoughts. XoXo - I*V

Signs... Signs... Everywhere There's Signs...

I find the fundamental difference between men and women, along with rational people versus people with schizophrenia, is - signs.

Tesla has a song about signs and it's super annoying. I mean, it's actually a great song but when the Bearded Woodsman sings it to pay you back for repeatedly poking him in the arm  because you're trying to annoy him for 5 minutes and then you spend the next three days singing, "Signs.. signs.. everywhere there's signs... f*in up the scenery breaking my mind. Do This, Don't Do That ... Can't you read the signs.." it becomes a form of Chinese water torture.

Women are notorious for reading horoscopes, looking into astrology, paying for psychics and looking for life answers (i.e. signs) with Tarot card readings from the 'Ascended Masters.' It's a billion dollar industry really. In fact, if you read certain books on pick-up artistry, they will mention that a man showing interest in these things and talking about them with women will actually help you get laid. You could certainly ask the Bearded Woodsman about it. As for me, I'm sure it did actually help us connect. After all, he is in fact hanging out in my bed more often.

That being said, I'm super into angel numbers and signs from divinity. It could be because I spent years off and on trying to figure out if there is a spiritual realm to connect with my dad. It could also be because during some traumatic years in my life I did see angels.

So yes, for the record, I too fall girlie victim to all the wonderment of astrology, capability of zodiac signs, tarot cards, and more so to anything that seems symbolic in my stratosphere of being - which today seems to be a lot. If it resonates, I give it a second thought. And today things are resonating at a very high frequency.

Sometimes your past meets your present and if you're lucky you find a way to dodge the two. But, somehow in the story of my life my universes are about to collide. And when universes collide I'm pretty sure there's an implosion and either both sides die or somehow new life finds it's way to expand and coexist.

All of the above scare the f* out of me.

See, I'm supposed to pick up Mr. Maybe's first born 17-year-old son he hasn't seen in 13 years, along with his father who he hasn't seen in four at the airport. He asked me over a month ago to be there with him when it all goes down. Mr. Maybe was someone extremely significant in the story of my life who taught me a lot about who to be, how to grow, and when to let sh*t go. That relationship ended a while ago only for it to resurface only moments after the Bearded Woodsman entered the scene.

I'd love to say it's no big deal but, it kinda is. Because those we have history with tend to show up an inopportune times to come along and f* things up. They stir up old emotions and wrap their tiny little ropes around our heart pulling us in a different direction.

I think Mr. Maybe tried to respect me in a number of ways by leaving me alone for the most part. But, then there are always those texts in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning that beg to cross boundaries and lines just to see if he ever had a winning hand to my heart (and more so to my libido).

Emotional manipulation doesn't work on me the way it did a decade ago. Or even a year when he came around. My tolerance for getting anything less than what I want in my life is zero. Except, Mr. Maybe does have something I miss in my life. He has the party.

So, I'm driving along waiting for the text that it's go time to pick him up and head to the airport. The first thing that happens is the text reads, "The flight is delayed. I'm waiting for confirmation that it's still getting off the ground."

The next thing that happens is I see a rainbow.

In the story of my life I view rainbows as God's blessing. I think it came from the story of Jonah in the Bible (after he ran completely in the wrong direction from where God told him to go) and confess I'm not religious much but am a spiritual person and in tune with that sort of stuff. Not here nor there, but when I see a rainbow I'm reminded God's got my back and has things planned for my life.

The next thing that happened was realizing today is 7.17.17.
Sevens in the bible are the number for completion. 7's signify not an end but leveling up.
In angel # world it means:

"Well, Universe," I said, "I leave it to you. Which way the cards fall and how my life turns out... will I go back to the party? Am I supposed to be with Mr. Maybe tonight? Is there something in this for me other than f*ing up my life? Or am I supposed to lean towards new adventures and storylines and start something new (albeit terrifying) with the Bearded Woodsman by traveling a road I haven't been down before?"

Nearly immediately as my thought to God ended, "Porn Star Dancing" came on the radio. Oddly, this is one of the songs that The Bearded Woodsman and I have. Nothing but good thoughts and all the amazing times we've had from the moment we met started playing on repeat in my head. I'm pretty sure I knew where I wanted to be. And it was finishing my book, at Starbucks, the way I said I would while he was working.

The song ended and just then another text came in. "I just want to say Thank you for being there for me. I have another ride. The flight isn't coming in until 2:30. Take care."

Completion.

Three years ago Mr. Maybe said he would find a way to see his children. To give him time. Three years ago I was talking about wanting to write a book and publish it. Last night about 2:30, as he was picking up his father and son from the airport, I was uploading my book to Amazon.

Completion.

I finally got what I wanted. A sense of accomplishment. Of moving forward in my life.
I can only feel Mr. Maybe got the same. A sense of accomplishment. Of facing his fear of rejection. A sense of moving forward and letting the go of the past.

Sometimes we live in parallel worlds. And we find one another in the oddest of places and help one another in the strangest of ways.

I couldn't have been more elated that last night my life didn't end.
I wasn't pulled back into the abyss of emotions and hurt and frustration over a relationship that had run its course.

In fact, I'd never been so excited as when The Bearded Woodsman walked through my front door, happy, and hung out with me and my kiddos until we laughed ourselves to sleep....

How many nights do we pray and pray for our lives to change and then wake up with a choice to choose a new direction but feel ourselves gravitating towards the familiar and the emotional pull of what feels real versus moving into uncharted territory? How many times do we say no and justify why we can't move forward? I liked my signs yesterday. Everything feels so brand new. And that is an experience in itself.

- I*V

There's Something Hairy Next to Me!

Have you ever tried to go to sleep only to realize there is a Beareded Woodsman laying in your bed? He' a harry beast and his stache kinda reminds me of a walrus.

Picture this:

Walrus

And to emphasize "harry beast" envision this thing below in your bed.

I did mention I live in Florida... and it's summer, right?

Woolly Mammoth

I would have been upset except he has this habit of making me laugh and rubbing me to sleep. What kind of girl would I be if I turned down being soothed into a comma while he chants OM's in his baritone voice which is the most relaxing thing ever. It's like having a personal spiritual guru and medicine doctor all in one right next to you. I've never heard of a Bearded Woodsman monk either however, I can only imagine all the greatest spiritual people who took sabbaticals in the woods probably didn't shave. And they ended up being - this guy.

The Bearded Woodsman

I could go into this big long story of how he ended up in my bed but why would I take anyone through the trauma (or the crazy fun) of me being an a*shole and wanting free coffee.

That's what happens when you date a barista from your local coffee shop. Which if you've ever known me not only makes sense but is incredibly fitting for my life. These days The Bearded Woodsman seems to be my ideal man. And by ideal man I mean he keeps me caffeinated.

True-Story!
Sometimes things just work to your advantage...

I'm looking forward to sharing with you all the crazy adventures of a Cali boy turned Bearded Woodsman stuck deep in the trenches of this girl's tangled web of a playboy style life filled with crazy love, friendships that make no sense, and dating disasters.

I keep him around although most days I'm unsure why. I will admit he is very useful though. Like when I'm cold in a restaurant or movie theater (which I usually am) I can wrap his arm around me or snuggle in his beard and it's like having grandma's hand-knitted sweater all cozy and comfy to keep me warm. So many uses this hairy beast has. Perhaps he can keep me warm in the winter ... if it  gets that far!


- I*V

In the beginning there was man....

In the beginning there was man....and wife
             ....and then they got divorced!

I'd love to say this is an original story however, having an ex-husband is hardly a new story. In fact, 1 out of 3 women experience what I've been through and the type of man I divorced. Which means the story should be an instant replay of some grandma sitting around in her undies in a her nudist colony nursing home who's been through everything there is to go through when it comes to relationships that suck.

Despite the odds, even though women and men are cheated on, have their hearts broken, get divorced or otherwise find themselves in predicaments that are harder to get out of than it was to get into, it's how we deal with our pain, our frustration, and our turmoil that makes the difference in who we are and who we ultimately become. Who our children become comes down to if we got our children out of hell sooner than later when it comes to ending relationships with authoritarian spouses who control everything from bank accounts to which groceries can go in the shopping cart. Furthermore, what matters most is if we got ourselves okay enough along the way to be able to help our children heal their broken hearts too.

When it comes to the story of my life and this utopian dream of forever, the idea was crushed by blow after blow between infidelity, financial woes, ego trips, parenting issues, and the same ol song and dance of a man and his need to control.

Interestingly enough, over the years I've found men are just as prone to

Losing Faith & Being a Mistress

I always believed in God when I was married to a sinister man.
                  So what's the deal with God & I these days?

I met a married man.
                          .....Again.
It's an ongoing theme in the story of my life.  :)


      His fantasies are like-minded and interlaced with intimacy.  Married men are a fantasy that's good for the soul...especially for a girl who pretends she want something real but who truly just wants the highlights of any relationship.

      Innocent fun.. until it's no longer innocent.
That's why it's only via emails and not at all based in reality. The problem that comes into play is that this girl does desire romance and true friendships that can help her in her journey to success... But again I ask, where is the line between friendship and romantic interest?
Where is the line between flirting and moving in to territory you know doesn't belong to you because you also know it might be nice just for a few nights...

Am I a good girl trying to be bad?  Or am I a vixen in every sense of the word? It's true I try to be good and then something turns in me and I take men down for the kill. Do I do this just because I enjoy it?  What happened to my moral consciousness?  Do I even have morality when it comes to relationships anymore?

.."all's fair in love and war"...

Losing Faith & Respecting A Married Man

A follow-up to the post 'Losing Faith & Being a Mistress':

I don't want to be the younger version of who ever's wife.

I always wondered about Blue and why he turned me down after turning me on. Is he the only faithful married man left on the planet? I can only admire him for that. Which makes me want to love him even more.

[For your information Blue is someone I met years ago by cosmic coincidence. He was married at the time and I had just left my marriage. I totally fell in love with him. I looked up to him. He gave me hope in a time I had none and I spent years trying to talk myself out of being in love with him. That being said, he was married. Then got divorced. Then found someone new. Someone who...

A Kitchen Wedding

So, it's time. Finally!  That pivotal moment in life when you get what you've been waiting for all along: A fairy-tale happy-ending.

It's finally happening!  And I know you're hating me right now but, don't. Because now that I have everything I want at my fingertips (including approval and the finances for all the decor and colors and custom designs) for my dream come true wedding... now I can't decide on a damn thing!  It's probably the biggest and most important decision a woman could ever make in her life and you would think after years of dreaming about it a girl would have everything she wants already picked out.  But, in the story of my life, it's just not that simple. This commitment of forever thing is sending me into 'panic-mode' and the bludgeoning question of: "did I make the right decision?"  "Yes, you! I choose you!" I say with certainty but suddenly, I'm getting cold feet.  I had this same problem when I got married.  Sigh...

Oh.. oh no!.. You thought I was getting married?... lol!  No, not at all.  I'm marrying my very first custom-designed kitchen!  Horray! Yes, I get to piece together everything I've ever wanted and rebuild this very important cornerstone of my house.  A kitchen is the most important part of making a house a home and I've been dreaming of this moment since the beginning of my marriage  - which ended three years ago.  CHEESE!

See, we say forever when it comes to men, however,

Man of the Hour

Man of the Hour
by Invincible Victoria


Sometimes with all the men a girl can go through, love and romantic relationships can get confusing. What does this girl really want anyway? Right now, it's a bank account that rocks!

Once upon a time this girl wanted a family. Then this same girl decided she wanted to build an empire instead. Then she met a man she would have given the sun moon and lasso all the stars for and decided she had to prove to herself all the million reasons why she was worth it and that when the fantasy was done she could be a good mom and wife again. But, when he went away she was just fucking done with it and decided building an empire would be more suitable. F* love onto Benjamins. So, she set off on that plan ... again.

Determined, she made it a point to push her way through and prove to herself she could do life alone and live in moments. She doesn't need anyone...or anything. No more talks of forever. Or romance. No more tolerating men and all their talks of wanting a family. She has a family - her and her two kiddos. They are the 3-Amigos.

Then she meets someone, and it starts again.
Then that one goes away. Another one comes. Both literally and figuratively.

This is really like 6 years and counting with a lot of sheets and men in between. The cycle continues, but only when building dreams do these guys find her.  What gives?!

It's a bit ironic the men a gal ends up forming real relationships with verses the men who are just this girl's play things until she's done. It may sound awful. However, she makes no apologies. How many play things has she been for a man. All is fair in love and war ...and great sex....and sometimes not so great sex...

The thing is, just when life gets focused on building dreams something or someone comes along that changes the course and direction of where you're headed. SUCK!!!!!!!!! WTF! In this moment this chick (i.e. me) couldn't be more confused. Life on repeat.

This song seems to be fitting for her life in this moment.

Nora Jones - Man of the Hour

The lyrics go:

It's him or me

That's what he said

But I can't choose

Between a vegan and a pot head

So I chose you, because you're sweet

And you give me lots of lovin' and you eat meat

And that's how you became

My only man of the hour ...

How fun.. and fitting for her life. Except she's not choosing between men right now. She's choosing between life paths and goals at the moment. And in the midst of it all, once again she happens upon someone new who is taking her on a completely different adventure.

There is always another story waiting in the wings. Like Alice in Wonderland, sometimes you just don't know which path to take and other times you happen upon delectable treats that both say, "Eat Me" each with a completely different effects on one's life.

A 6-pack & Magnums

I'm not sure a 6-pack and Magnums go together... unless you're a guy...

Why?  Mostly because the Magnums I'm talking about are the most sensational delectable triple chocolate layered ice cream bars ever made that causes every taste bud in your mouth to explode one by one.  It's orgasmic really.  I'd even go so far as to say, it's an orgasm for your mouth.  With that in mind, I can't decide if I want to be intoxicated and let go or be immersed in chick flicks. Can a girl have both?  The answer is 'yes' however, I've never heard of a Yuengling float although I'm tempted to try it right about now.

Opposites attract and my own impatience is beginning to frustrate me.  Why is sitting and waiting so hard.  How hard is it to breathe in and breathe out and just be?  For me...it's right up there with climbing Mount Olympus, running in a 5k, or more like asking a 5 year old on Christmas morning to sit and stare at the presents under the tree without unwrapping them... indefinitely.

Operation: Alternate Ending is now on ending two;

Remembering to Break & Breath & Press Reset

There's something about being in love or caught up in someone else. The rush, the adrenaline. Love truly is blind. I think when you go from being so low to so incredibly high, it makes it more difficult to step outside yourself and find balance. I was larger than life when I was high in thoughts of Blue..


What did I really want from him anyway?  Blue is everything in the business world I ever thought I'd be and never became.. I resent that.  I resent seeing people so successful after I ended up giving my life, my youth, and what should have been foundational years for ladder climbing to someone less deserving... to my real-life ex-husband.

Why does it feel like I was larger than life when I was married to an abusive man?  A man that made me ask for tampons and told me "no."  A man that told me things were impossible and somehow, my prayers and my pleas to God always came through.

How was I so powerful and strong then in my faith and in my being and in everything I knew to be true but yet, I was living the greatest lie of being in a loving marriage?  Of loving myself.  Of loving God.

.... Now I am here. Knocked from my throne. Now that the challenge and threat and pressure isn't on me, I don't feel the drive I once had. Do I need the abuse to keep going? Because right now I just want to fall asleep? I don't feel that insane go-go-go crisis management mode I was stuck in for years.

I admit

Time to Settle The Score in the Battle of the Sexes!

It is my position the battle of the sexes, we're both equally amazing and equally retarded. Yes. I used the R word. Because we are both slow to learn anything if we're being honest. We're also both to blame for a lot of things.

This claim that women are conniving and men are dogs is kinda ridiculous if you think about it. Because there are plenty of men who are conniving with a better hand of cards to play. These are the types of men who prey on a woman's emotional need for intimacy and financial stability with promises and lots of words that had no commitment or intentions behind them. Equally, there are a few women in the world who truly qualify as stereotypical b*tches using men for personal gain and stature. It goes both ways. Who's kidding who here? 

When you look at the crazy mothers

Mr. Right Now

It would sooooo be nice to have a Mr. Right Now.
   Reality remains I get phone calls nearly every night from a potential Mr. hoping to sway me and charm me into his life...and most often his bed.... yet, I can't really seem to bring myself to any kind of satisfaction.  Am I just being too picky?  I suppose.  However, if the chemistry isn't right then, I guess you just keep moving forward. At least this chick does.

I had an amazing time with someone new for the past few weeks.  He was on Spring Break ... from...drumroll... his girlfriend!  lol!  That's real life I suppose.  He was one scandalous adventure mixed with a sincere heartfelt tingle followed by a first point of contention leading to a big question mark for both of us.

Like all the others, it ends with him talking with his ex and believing a girl like me doesn't actually know he's still seeing her.  I am quiet.  Not stupid.  Big difference.  I'm a Vegas girl.  And in the story of my life the House always wins... meaning

Meow... lick... purr.... RAWR! (claws)

Let me start softly to my male audience and simply ask a question:
     What the f*@% is wrong with you guys?  Do you really think that all women just use men for money?  Do you really truly think only if you spend lots of money you will get us to sleep with you?  The truth is it helps.. but really?! 

Look, if I don't like you it doesn't matter how much money you spend on me... and although some girls will let you, I wouldn't even let myself feel even remotely obligated to you if you're shelling out cash to try and win my affection!  There's a difference between treating a lady as a princess and trying to buy her love. There's either chemistry or there's not... and yes, I do charge for kisses that suck!

The reality remains, if I don't actually like you,

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

What's up with men and pillow talk?

Perhaps I was married for a very long time to an abnormal man but, the men I've ventured into rendezvous with lately seemingly want to talk after even the most exasperating and exhausting sex. Why is that?

I'm completely comfortable with him going to sleep or running off to the next business meeting. This whole thing of pillow talk is new to me. Maybe I'm just getting older? Who knows... I do have questions about this.... Do men do it for the girl? Is it theatrics because
they've been conditioned to try and bond mentally with a girl after sex for the girl's sake so they don't seem like a d*ckhead?  Do men simply feel this is a great opportunity to see if there are actually brains behind the beauty so he will know if he should ask her to dinner prior to sex next time? Do men like to do this for themselves because they aren't complete animals and do desire intimacy after physical needs are met? Is this simply girlish desires of intimacy and physical touch in reverse?  I just don't get it.

Here's what prompted the quandary to begin with:

My latest joy ride had the pure adrenaline rush and enjoyment of a girl lap dancing on top of his erogenous appendage to LMFAO Sorry for Party Rockin and when finished with his 'release' fell fast asleep.

I have a rule.  It's a simple one.  And it's only one.  Don't spend the night.

This rule doesn't work for every girl but it works for me. On occasion (pending the company) this rule is bent to "don't spend the night unless invited." However, in my world most often I decline anyway. I'm not cold-hearted.... (well, maybe a little....) I'm just not into it...

It's not that I don't enjoy cuddling. Quite the contrary. It's simply that I don't feel the need to get comfortable and fall into the trap of creating bonds with someone I knowingly don't want all because it felt good at the time. I don't cuddle with strangers.

When sticking to my rules I find lines don't get crossed as easily establishing clearly defined boundaries for a man.  In this same way he understands plainly and clearly I wasn't conquered (because I wanted it for me) and that I don't have attachment issues. It pretty much spells out "Not the girl having sex looking for love. Just the girl entertaining amazing sex." This way I can be clear that I don't want anything more from him and that he's not material worth keeping. Is it so hard to imagine a girl simply enjoyed the same physical touch he did?

What delights me most is when my leaving takes him by surprise (as if I were a hopeless romantic - which I secretly am) and I'm looked at as callous.

Yes, some girls are like this. Why? Well.. does it matter? Because the truth is, I'm not sleeping with nice guys. I'm sleeping with the bumbling a**holes who think they can take advantage of a girl who wrote the playbook to whatever f*ed up game he thinks he's playing. There's no ego trip for him here. He will always be left to wonder why I didn't stay. Why I'm not a typical girl. And with that, his lingering question "was his sex bad?" will play in his mind for a while. Not my issue. Not my insecurity. I make no apologies.

We've all had our ups and downs in love. Maybe it's not really so hard to understand how men and women aren't truly that different. -I*V




(Originally posted 12/14/2012)

Pillow Talk ... I Just Don't Get It!

I know in my last chapter I mentioned not staying the night. But, I did cross a line with my latest victim... er... suitor. I didn't mean to. It's just that he was kinda cozy while I adjusted my pulse to normal levels and indulged in a few (very few) minutes of cuddling after what turned out to be high caloric burning sexcapades. I tried to lull him to sleep afterwards. I was married once and some habits die hard. But the truth is I was hoping he'd fall fast asleep so I could sneak out... No questions asked, just an easy escape!

While making my great escape I fumbled accidentally making a ruckus trying to find my panties he threw across

I'll be your Diamond Girl!

My fantasy... To be a man's 

"Diamond Girl!   Yes.. yes I totally do!

                             Diamond Girls have wayyyy more fun!

From I*V's favoritest place of earth... Fredrick's of Hollywood.com

I think "Diamond Girl" seems fitting for me.  However unlikely, I was thinking on things yesterday driving along with my Supervillian Venom Lipgloss gleaming (that tastes like dreamsickles) and
how I completely understand high-end prostitutes.  You know, the kind that get on Madame what's her names list and become headline news.  The kind that become politicians playmates... 

They are an absolute fantasy.  Fantasy can be extremely good:  On demand.  Up for adventure and fun without the baggage.  It ends when it ends.  No loose strings.  No wondering.  No commitment.  No monogomy.. although one of the parties typically ends up wanting more.  Especially the men doing the spoiling.  They love you to be theirs... and only theirs. 

The secrecy of it all is alluring. Getting caught adds tension to the thrill.  The discretion or lack there of, is an adrenaline rush.  The fact remains, there are women like me who do know how to give