Cobwebs be gone!

Special Ops Boy™ will be in Tampa tomorrow. You know what that means. That's all I'm gonna say...

Emotional Procrastination

It has been a busy week and I am heading out the door. This theme has been running through my mind since I wrote the Procrastination post. It is about Emotional Procrastination. I've done it, I bet you've done it...it's about knowing you need to make a change and move on, but you are so stuck you can't (or you think you can't). I have several friends that are in the throes of Emotional Procrastination right now. I won't write about their personal issues. I can generically say they are the things we all deal with--(sing with me) "Should I stay or should I go now!" It can be a suck ass job, a dead marriage, or a one-sided friendship.

I think back to times I have emotionally procrastinated. The big one that comes to mind is an on/off relationship I had with a guy (previously referred to as Dillhole) for over 10 years. Now that is procrastination! He vacillated so many times. He would tell me he loved me so much, then in the next breath I deserved better and we should stop seeing each other. It was an emotional roller coaster and I kept getting on and off the ride. The Penelope/Dillhole relationship is a whole other blog. I'm not sure I can or want to delve into that one. I will tell you that when I moved back to Tampa after the whole John thing I saw him a whole new way. I used to think he was so confident, smart, caring, funny...you know, all the things you look for in a guy. The man I saw when I moved back was tired, bitter, fairly self centered and not very interesting. Did he change that dramatically or did I change?

The reason I go into to this is: WOW, I wish I could have done some type of magical trip into the future to see how I would eventually feel about this guy. It is similar with all my past relationships. I look at them and think, "WHAT was I thinking???" Then is no guy that I look back and say, "Wow, should have let him go..."

Bringing it back to Emotional Procrastination. I think it is being so stuck in the shit you are in that prevents us all from seeing a future without the (insert problem--crappy job, crummy spouse, friend that is selfish, etc.) Also, it is easy to say, "well maybe it will get better..." With John it was so in your face (i.e. the gruesome texts to his soulmate) that my choice was easy. I do get that we all have varying pain thresholds. I hear some stories from my friends and I think I would have left years ago while they seem to think there is hope.

There are all kinds of teachings that talk about staying in the moment. I really try to do that (very tough by the way). I do think there is a time when looking forward is positive. I think from this point on if I am struggling with a "Should I Stay or Should I Go" dilemma, I will think to the future without that (man, job, friend, 10 lbs, etc) I am thinking of leaving behind. I may have wasted the best years of my ass on Dillhole (he got to see it off and on during ages 28-39 and he saw it again at 42!), but with years comes wisdom. 

Angel Time™

You might think this is going to be some heart felt post about angels. It is actually about procrastination. I record CBS News Sunday Morning every week. I get the newspaper in front of me, I make breakfast and I watch it while I flip through the papers. It is a Sunday ritual. I imagine my future man will watch with me. He will sit on the love seat, I will sit on the chair as he rubs my feet as we watch TV. This will be after we've had fabulous morning sex...okay, back to procrastination.

I used to go to a fabulous massage therapist. I'll call her Patti. She was honestly the best I massage therapist I have ever gone to and was late for every appointment. I would get a text telling me she was on her way, or could we move it 30 minutes, 60 minutes or sometimes to another day! I went with it because she was so great. One day Miss Penelope was in The Punisher™ mode. Patti called me and I went off. I told her I was tired of her always being late. I told her it was inconsiderate and a crummy way to run a business. Her reply was that she operates on "Angel Time." WTF is Angel Time. I think it made need a ™. Well, Angel Time™ is some BULLSHIT! I told her I would have to go someone else and said goodbye. I cooled off and she sent me a text later that week asking me to come in for a complimentary massage. I took her up on it. She was on time for that appointment. This was while I was dating John. I told her all about him. Miss Angel Time™ is very into astology. She knew I was a Pisces. As she worked out the knots, I told her how fabulous John was. She asked his birthday. I told her June 1. Her hands froze. She said, "Penelope, you have to break up with him now." I laughed and asked, "why?" He's a Gemini and Pisces can NEVER be in a relationship with a Gemini. She went on for the rest of the appointment. It wasn't very relaxing. I said he was a great guy. She told me to find out his birth time and that she could do his chart. She said he might have a moon or sun (or whatever I forgot the lingo) that may make him an exception to the Pisces/Gemini rule. I told John and he laughed. His Mother was deceased and he had no idea what time he was born (and I honestly wasn't interested in having Patti do his chart). I think we all know how this Pisces/Gemini pairing ended up. I am supposed to be with Scorpios according to Patti. I have never dated a Scorpio. Well, I continued to see Patti until I moved to Louisiana. She was better about time, but still late (the annoying texts asking to move the appointments ceased). After I moved back I called Patti for an appointment. I told her my story and she said, "I told you he's a FUCKING GEMINI and you should not be with him!" I started back with her for massage. Angel Time™ was in full swing. I talked to her about it. She assured me it wouldn't happen again. It did. I never went back. She will text me from time to time and I will let her know how I'm doing. I think she just knows why I haven't gone back.


I have several friends that operate on Angel Time™. Watching this segment made me understand them better. They interviewed a Mom that said she feels like when she has a open block of 10 minutes that she needs to fill it with starting a load of laundry or tidying up a room. I totally get that. I see myself doing that same thing. This morning I started a load of laundry, I organized my closet, I vacuumed all within a 30 minute period. I feel like I am always running. The show showed a book on how to stop procrastinating. I don't know if it can help my "Punctually Challenged" friends. I think they are just busy. 


As for Patti, aka Angel Time™, I think she was just a mess...

Dorky Winter Olympic Mittens

You've seen them--they are all the rage:

Well, P's got a story about them. I used to work for a Canadian owned company. We had a meeting in Winnipeg in October. It was cold. And grey. And hard to get to. Well, the VP gave all the reps a special Canadian gift. It was the mittens like in the picture above. We all said thank you (and then we laughed over drinks-Mittens?, WTF!)

I visited my friend in London in November. The whole time I was there I would try to hide the mittens in her stuff or in her boys' bags. It was an ongoing joke. Well, the joke was on me when I opened my suitcase after I got home and the offensive mittens were there!

Anyone that knows me, knows I like to purge and keep things neat. I think I put them in the bag of clothes I donated to the Spring.

Today I sit down to watch Oprah that I taped. It's Matt Lauer from Vancouver reporting on the Winter Olympics. He shows the mittens and says they are THE hot item and they wanted to get some for Oprah, but couldn't find any (of course Oprah already had a pair).

Moral to the story--don't assume the worst. Big bulky mittens with weird stitching about the Olympics may be valuable...shit, I could've sold them on ebay!

Giving the Greenlight

I had mentioned that Polly and her friend were launching an unique dating site. I got a question about it from one of you all tonight about it.  

It is called Greenlight Card:

https://www.greenlightcard.com/

One of the big bummers with Internet dating is (I speakth from experienceth) you email with the person, you talk on the phone and he/she seems great, you arrange a meeting....you get to Starbuck's and the chemistry is nothing! The concept with Greenlight Card is you purchase a membership. You enter your contact info (for example I put  my gmail address). You control who you contact. I was telling some nurses about it today (Penelope was supposed to be selling something else, instead I am acting out Greenlight for them). My scenario was I am walking through Publix and I notice a hottie by the bakery. He smiles. I smile. We walk on. I see him again on aisle 2 while I am selecting pasta. He smiles. I smile. We meet again in produce. I deftly pull out my Greenlight Card and hand it to him as we are selecting the perfect bunch of bananas.

See that it says greenlightcard.com on one side and the other side explains that they have been given the "greenlight." The instructions tell the recipient to go to the website and they enter the number (your cards have a unique number that is linked to only you). The recipient will then get your contact info you entered (you can put your cell number and/or email in) emailed or texted to them. They do not have to pay or register in any way. A membership is $99/year. The member is the person with the cards. You get 25 cards as a starter and you can reorder cards (you can reorder 25 cards for 25 bucks). There is no need to worry about how many members exist because you control who you are giving the card. It is up to you to get out there and expose yourself (not literally) to people. I can't tell you how many times I texted Polly to say "I need a Greenlightcard" last summer while they were getting the website ready. The airport, my UPS guy, in Nordstrom's, at Publix...the list goes on and on. Notice I did not list a bar?

The nurses I was talking to today loved the idea. We talked about how it is scary to start a conversation and give your number. I told them that when I used to travel all the time I would be anxious about giving my business card since it had lots of info. This is much more discreet and classy.

I have not seen anyone worthy of the Greenlight yet. I will keep you all posted. What I like is the fact that I will select who I feel that spark with vs. meeting a guy that is 20 lbs heavier than his profile picture and he has his sister write his emails for him!

Can Girls Just "Do It"?

Tonight I was chatting with a friend about the eternal question...can women fuck like men? Sorry to be so crass. I wanted to have an opening line that would grab you! There's that age old debate that women want more than just sex that can be attributed back to the cave man days where we needed a provider and protector. What does that mean for a woman today that has her own job, house and car? I have a friend that is going through a yucky divorce. She and her soon to be get the fuck out of my house ex are figuring out custody. He is an attorney so he keeps taunting her with statements like, "I could ask for alimony." Ugh. She came over for dinner the other night and we were talking about envisioning future companions. She said, "I don't think women are wired to have no strings attached sex.". My friend tonight told me about hooking up with a "friends with benefits" the other night. He called her less than 5 minutes after leaving her house to saw, "we can't do this again." How is that for afterglow?! My friend obviously got pretty upset. I believe she said something to the effect of..."you were okay about 45 minutes ago when we were in my bed." UGH. 

I have had no strings off again, on again with a guy since the summer of 2008. You may know him as Special Ops Boy. When we met he was very clear about what he was looking for and capable of at that time. I was so numb that I agreed. I don't think about him in googly ways. He is very different than any guy I've ever been with. He is conservative, immersed in his work and kinda cold (I mean that in a good way...really). I am sure the cold part has to do with being in the Navy for > 20 years and the fact that we are not together in that way. He is kind, complimentary, cute...all that stuff. I just know there it is pointless to think about him in any other way than doing it. We talk about life, relationships, books, politics. He knows a lot about me. I know a little about him. I've been able to do it. I will tell him about my dating woes. He encouraged me to like one guy and was not encouraging about Spencer. There is no jealousy or weirdness. He once complimented me on being a "non-psycho." It was quite a compliment. Really. I've wondered if it made me not receptive to meeting guys. I honestly don't think I've been ready prior to this. 

So can girls just "do it"? Polly asked me if I felt depressed after I just "did it". I really didn't. In the beginning I was dealing with the doubts I had after the whole cheating thing (Do I look ok? Is he having fun?) Later I got to know him better and I relaxed. He always says he can't believe he's done it with a democrat. I reply that I can't believe I had a conservative in me (with a condom). Seriously, I think it depends on the girl and where she is coming from. I have been coming from a place of being a bit gun shy and protective. The "relationship" with him has been positive. We've had fun and remained friends over the Internet. Perhaps Special Ops Boy was kinda like the training before a big race?

As for the guy that called my friend to say "no more" 5 minutes after he left her house...I believe I shall make him into a cartoon:

Yes, you can google "Ass Clown"

Being Googlable™

So in my personal life I take great pride that I am not Googlable™. Definition: you can try to Google my white ass but you won't find me. My name on Facebook is a shortened version of my real name so that random wacko from 1989 can't find me. Initially I had kept the blog from being open to search engines. I even had a warning about the content (you know ManGroomers are scary and I enjoy the F bomb...) A few of my friends could not access the blog from their work laptops so I removed the warning. Then I got more courageous and opened it to search engines. I can hide behind the Penelope armor! Polly had asked me about what if John (you know I've changed names) ever saw the blog. The majority of you like to comment in private--I get feedback in emails mostly. What if "John" read this?....I would love to hear what you all think. You can comment with anonymous and you don't have to have a sign on name.

My thoughts--my only concern would be if his boys read it and figured out it was about their father. They are 17 and 19. I think that is highly unlikely and it would be if someone shared it. I did not share the blog with any of my Louisiana friends (cuz we all know I wuz kinda harsh on dem in Cajun country there Sha...) I also did not share it with Annie because I would not want to open old wounds and can you imagine having not 1 but 3 children with this Ass Clown? She once told me in a very sad, tired voice, "Penelope, he will always be in my life--graduations, marriages, babies...he will never go away." That is very sad.

Oh yeah...back to my thoughts. I speak the true, I've changed names and we live in a wonderful country where free speech is a right!

Besides, I think this blog is more about other things than my failed marriage.

P Out!

Googling Vienna Sausages

I decided it was time for some humor. I googled Vienna Sausages (cuz I think I may have exhausted all ManGroomer ™ humor).

 Results 1 - 10 of about 1,320,000 for vienna sausages.

Can you believe it? There is 1.3 million things to say about Vienna Sausages?

For my readers that love LOST as much as I do...I would like to sit with Sawyer and enjoy some Dharma Initiative Vienna Sausages.

Look! I found a picture of Pao!

and in case you're wondering:

Outsourcing Gone Wild

Okay, just when I thought it couldn't get any worse...today I learned about virtual dating assistants. It is just as creepy as it sounds. There is a company that you can pay 480 bucks to have someone take care of setting up your online profile and set up dates for you. It pisses me off so much that I won't even post the website name. W-T-F! This is sick and wrong on so many levels I don't know where to begin. Imagine what they will be like later if someone is too busy to make the effort in the early stages. I can see it now--an online assistant may be there to give you your first kiss. Maybe the online assistant can go with you on the weekend trip too. Better yet, how about sex? Maybe the online assistant can have sex with you too! Wait...I have a cheaper alternative: Just buy a vibrator.

Psychological Cardio

I usually have titles for my posts before I start one. This one I do not--I am going to let the title come to me. I feel like a lot of my latest posts have been kind of melancholy. It is funny because I am not sad. Maybe it is because I get the shit out on here!

I had a Lynn appointment yesterday (many of you have told me you feel like you get free therapy when I write about this stuff...) As you know, if you have read from the start of this blog, our focus is on thoughts. She asked me what thoughts I wanted to focus on for the session. I told her the "boy thing." Of course I had to elaborate...I told her I felt like I had worked through the anger of the John thing, I had "dated" a few guys and actually had a "relationship" with Spencer (if that is what you call it). I told her I felt like I wanted to meet someone, yet I wasn't sure when, how and where. She asked me about specifics. Lynn always says the mind needs specifics. I was stumped. I started to babble about doing things alone and being self sufficient and not needing to depend on a man. She smiled and asked, "do you want a companion?". I said, "yes."  She said it sounded like I was giving my mind "mixed messages." I laughed because I knew it was true. She asked if I had read somewhere that I didn't need anyone to be happy. I said "sure" and I had--everyday I  heard it on T.V. shows, radio, women's magazines, etc. She said it was odd because most people want a companion. Lynn had a point...

She asked me to describe what I wanted. I know from past sessions that means to exclude the word "not." For example I wouldn't want to list:

• Someone not like John
• Not a cheater
• Not a liar

Studies show that the mind will just pick up the words--cheater, liar, etc. The mind doesn't pick of the contradiction (i.e. the word "not').

So my list went:

• Smart
• Honest
• Faithful

Oh but it wasn't so easy. Lynn stopped me and I was asked to list it in the format of "I see myself with..." Okay, "I see myself with a smart, faithful, guy..." Errr (sound of buzzer)--not so easy. Now Lynn asked me to describe what I feel like with him. Include the 5 senses. Where are we? What are we doing? My hands started to sweat. I looked at the sassy shoes I wore to the appointment. I slyly glanced at my watch. Shit--how can there be 40 minutes left??? Alright, "I see me and the guy holding hands and walking down the beach..." Great! Lynn says, "how does his hand feel in yours?" Shit. How can I leave? I start to cry. I want to leave. I don't want to talk about this. I say, "I thought I was over all the anger." Lynn says you are. She asks, are the tears anger? I know they are not. They are total fear. I am so scared of being with another man. I wipe the tears and make sure I do not mess of the artfully applied eye shadow. Deep breath. "I am walking down the beach. We are holding hands. His hand feels warm." Lynn smiles and says, "that sounds good, what else, start at the beginning." I pick at my nails. I look at the floor. "We are walking down the beach. We are holding hands. He smiles at me and says I love you." Lynn looks at me and says, "that's it? He says I love you and (she does a quick fake smile)." I bust out laughing. GOD, when is this appointment over? I told Lynn I would rather be doing cardio right now. She says she knows this is hard. She asks me what is my biggest fear? I tell her getting naked and having sex. She says, "okay! let's talk about sex. Tell me about that. How will you feel?" At this point I feel sweat trickle down my butt crack. Covert glance at watch. Lynn says, "we have 15 minutes." FUCK. She asks me questions and says she is not looking for graphic details--she wants me to articulate what kind of lover I am looking for. She gets out of me that I want flirty, fun and kind. I went through the exercise a couple of times. I want someone that stays in bed after ''doing it" and cuddles and talks. I want someone that I can lie in bed and read a book next to them.  By this time I am spewing my details in hopes that the appointment will end and I can jump in my car and drive through Steak n' Shake and get a strawberry milk shake. I walked down the stairs from Lynn's office feeling like I had just run 3 miles.I got in the car and headed home. I realized before this appointment I had never really thought about what I wanted in a man. I vaguely missed being with someone. Whenever I had those feelings of loneliness, I would instantly think about what happened with John ( and the host of not rights before him)  and then think, "you are better off alone." Fucked up. I had only thought about all the "nots" that I wanted in a relationship. You know what is funny? The thing I keep remembering is how it feels to have a guy hold my hand. I can almost remember what it feels like...

Random Thoughts About Valentine's Day

I have friends that say, "Oh no, it's Valentine's and I don't have one." I just read one of my guy friends' status on Facebook that said essentially the same thing. I talked to Sulie this morning and she had just received a flower delivery--a dozen red carnations from a guy that has coveted her from a far (I mean Kentucky) for I don't remember how many years now. (It is unrequited coveting in case you're wondering). We were supposed to go to Skipper's tonight and see Halycon play. For the non Tampa readers, Skipper's Smokehouse is a great place to go hear bands play. It is an outdoor venue. It has been unseasonably cold down here. I told her I didn't know if my cracker ass could take standing in the cold. I checked the website and it said that they have propane heaters. Sidebar--Halycon has a STRONG lesbian following (they are really good and I guess you could say they are Indigo Girlish. You get my drift)  I texted Sulie:

Being in the  cold on Valentine's weekend with lonely lesbians = Creepy 

Sulie replies: 

No offense, you are a catch, but I don't want anyone to think you're my bitch.

Penelope disclaimer: No offense to my lesbian friends.  Being in the cold on Valentine's weekend with lonely anybody = creepy.

Several years ago, Sulie and I went up to N.C. for Thanksgiving. We stayed in B&Bs. She was so convinced the B&B owners and other guests thought we were gay. It was so funny. At breakfast I made a point of making it clear we were sisters to ease her anxiety. I'm not sure why she thought people thought we were gay. It may have been my shoes. I think I wore hiking boots that trip.

Valentine's is like the prom or New Year's Eve.  Lots of expectations and no return. I remember bringing in the shoe box in 3rd grade to decorate as your Valentine's mailbox. Mrs. Strickland made us give a Valentine to EVERYONE. She shielded us from the pain of exclusion for another year. I recall showing my Dad the Valentine's I had received. He told me a little girl gave him one when he was in grade school. He smiled as he remembered the card--it had girl with a big carrot. It said "Do you Carrot all for me?" That would have been in the mid 1930s. Hallmark and the like had already begun the big Valentine's marketing during the Great Depression! 

I just typed it "do you carrot for me" in Google. I found a vintage card on eBay!:

Here is a screen shot of the inside:

It is $6.47 for the card. I'm going to order it and frame it. I have so few memories of my Dad since he died when I was so young (Even more so for Sulie--she was 9).

Door to the PAST

I had an awesome meditation class tonight! In all the classes we have learned different techniques to mediate. I really like the guided meditations. It is one of the few times I get my mind to slow down. Tonight we did one where we were standing on the beach. There were lots of images about the sand, the surf, the heat of the sun, etc. We were told to look to the right and there would be a door. The door would have a sign that read, "The Past". We looked to the left, there would be a door with a sign that read, "The Future". We had to walk to the door to the right that symbolized the PAST (this is all in your mind that you are visualizing...) and we could see things from our past behind the door. I saw the boys, a cute, red convertible red Beetle I had in college and a toxic guy I wasted to the best years on my ass on in my late 20s and thirties. We were instructed to close the door and we found a key hanging on the doorjamb to lock the door. Then we turned to the left and went to the door to the FUTURE. There was a key there also. We opened the door and saw bright light. We envisioned all the great things that would come to us in the future. I saw things like work success, a Man and me working out! She then had us walk back to the water's edge and write "I love..." in the sand. We were asked to write all the names of who we loved--including ourselves (don't laugh my boy readers...) The water then came up and washed it all away (it was positive, but I forgot how she said it). Then we wrote, "I forgive..." and wrote all the names (including our own name). Yes, I wrote John's name, and the guy I wasted the best years of my ass on, and me (for wasting the best years of my ass). It was funny, the name of an old boss came to mind and I didn't want to write her name down. At that point I heard Lynn's voice say, "and all others". Whew--I was able to lump monster boss into the "and all others'' category!

It was really cool. Lynn tells us we can do this type of meditation on our own. I have a had time with that. I like to listen to things on my ipod. She suggested we record our own meditations and said that our minds are most receptive to our own voices. I envision myself sitting here recording a meditation and laughing. One of the meditations we were given in print says, "abdomen warm and flowing." Tonight I said out loud, "I don't like that one, it sounds like I have diarrhea." I had one of those non filter moments where the words come out and I hear myself thinking "NO!" as they are coming out of my mouth. Sulie busted out laughing and every time I looked at her after that the potty humor giggles got me going. Very mature. Very Zen.

Closing and locking the door on the past was very cool. I think it is very funny the red convertible Beetle came to mind. I sold it to a freshman girl when I was in college. Her Mom wrote me a check for it. The girl came into the bar at Chili's where I worked and ordered a strawberry margarita from me. I told her I could get in trouble for serving her since she was underage. She told me the engine on the Beetle blew up 1 week after she bought it. I brought her the strawberry margarita....

After a hard day...

Husking the Corn

 I was just watching the T.V. show Cougar Town. They discussed manscaping (it's everywhere I tell ya). The Courtney Cox character said to a guy, "What? You don't husk the corn?"

More purging...

So I was just digging through some drawers looking for index cards. I never found the cards, but I found a fine, organized binder I had put together when I had to take John back to court. There are color coded tabs and a spreadsheet for Phil the Bulldog Attorney so he could quickly find what he needed. It was print outs of texts and emails. In the spirit of purging,I plan on trashing the contents of the binder tonight. I will admit I took a peek inside. My favorite is dated 12/26/08 at 18:40 pm. I am (again) asking John about getting the camp out of my name. Note this date is more than a year after I left Louisiana.  He says to me--

I find it tough to respond a lot of times because when I do you make it an opportunity to mock me or make your typical belittling comments. I'm not a good parent, small penis, karma, and so on.

He signs, No Need to reply

And I do:

Oh but I will. You are not a good parent, your penis is tiny and karma is getting you back.

Man, was I bitter. For the record--it wasn't tiny.  My friend, 24 has told me several times that my "quest for girth" scares him. I don't think guys understand that their dicks shrink exponentially when they cheat and lie. I remember sitting in the courtroom waiting for the judge and I showed that email exchange to Phil. He just smiled and said, ''don't you worry babe." That is funny culture they got there Sha. You should have seen John's attorney. She was from Baton Rouge (first mistake--Lafayette is a Man's Parish and you don't bring in a lady from the city). She was thin,pretty and decked out. She had a Badgley Mischka bag and it was real. Phil shook her hand said a cool hello and walked away from her while she was babbling about something. He whispered to me, "she's had weeks to call me if she wanted to talk." She kept whispering to John and giggling while we sat through other proceedings.I had a flash thought, "I wonder if they are fucking?" When It was our time, John was called to the stand. Phil annihilated him. Every time John answered a question he dug himself deeper and deeper in shit. John's whole fight was that he could not get refinancing, therefore he was not able to get the camp out of my name or pay the late fees that were part of our divorce. Phil started with questions about credit scores. John stammered. Phil asked why John signed the divorce papers if he knew he would not be able to secure financing. John feebly replied, "because that is what you had in the final divorce agreement" (John was too cheap to get an attorney when we divorced.) The whole courtroom laughed when John made his lame answer. His attorney got up thinking she was Miss Thang. Her questions meant nothing. I had to go up to take the stand. I was looking cute and I had a super, sassy purse with a big flower that I took up there with me. Miss Thang made me tell my address and then coyly asked if I owned my house. I replied, "yes." She started to ask if I had trouble getting financing because the camp was still in my name. Phil and his cowboys boots ejected up--"Objection." The judge agreed. She tried again. More Phil objecting. She then switched gears and dramatically pulls out a sheet of paper and asks me if it was true that I only taking John to court to "make him pay for getting a new girlfriend?" I busted out laughing as Phil objected. The judge said that had nothing to do with why we were in court. I stared daggers into John's eyes and marveled at how his head resembled a basket ball. He twitched and looked away. I wished I had a black Sharpie pen so I could write "Wilson" on his head and draw in the lines like there is on a basketball. Miss Thang knew she was out and said, "no more questions Your Honor." (Just like on T.V!)  I was released. I grabbed the sassy purse and walked back to sit by Phil. I noticed the whole courtroom was leaning forward like they were at a movie. Toothless Cajuns, Business Folk and Housewives awaited the judge's ruling. Judge T asked Phil what the late fees came up to. There was some quick calculating of $100/day for not refinancing the camp and $50/day for not getting Jet Ski's out of my name (can you believe that dumbshit signed that agreement?). Another one of John's arguments was there had been 2 hurricanes. He felt he should not be held responsible since there were "Acts of Mother Nature". He neglected to recall that he had drug his feet before the acts of mother nature...the divorce partition also stated that John was responsible for any legal fees. The Judge asked Phil what they amounted to. Phil calmly answered "my fee is $285/hour" and gave the total. Miss Thang jumped up and said 285 was way too high. Phil slowly drawled, "Judge, I am board certified in family law, I have over 25 years of experience in family law and the average fee for a family law attorney in Lafayette Parish is $250/hour." It was a beautiful thing to watch. The judge then looked at John and said, "Mr. F, you've made some very bad choices and Miss Penelope is going to benefit from them." He ruled in my favor and excluded 3 months for the hurricanes (since John had to make repairs from flooding). The look on John's face was priceless.  I feel like the Cajuns were going to put me on their shoulders and carry me out of the courtroom! Phil smiled and said, I've got to run to a deposition and left. I went out and got in the rental car to drive to the airport. John sent me several scathing texts telling me that I was taking money away from his boys. I didn't reply. You can't reason with a basketball...

Super Bowl

So my work Blackberry is buzzing with emails going back and forth with my team discussing the game. Here's how I chimed in--

Hmmm....I select my sports team like I select a fine wine. I look at where they came from, I read the reviews, I look at  the pros and the cons and then I go with my gut. Here is my break down:

Saints

• “Who Dat” is one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard
• I just read that Brees is allergic to dairy, wheat, gluten and eggs. Sounds like a wuss to me.
• My ex husband is a huge Saints fan

Colts

• “Count On Losing The Superbowl” is just plain mean
• I love Tony Dungy and I love anything Tony loves
• They’ve got this fellow named Manning on the team
• They aren’t the Saints

Penelope: Colts

The ManGroomer™ has been neglected

I just did a quick little google to see what comes up under the ManGroomer™search. I found these delights:

This is just such a horrible name for a product - The Mangroomer - I mean, really, whothinks this stuff up???

“Hey baby, want to touch my man groomer?”

I mean..just… ewww!

http://www.mangemerde.com/the-man-groomer/


EWWW Indeed says Penelope!

I was Christmas shopping online the other day, looking for an electric shaver for my 15-year old son, when I came across the Mangroomer. The “Private Body Shaver” and the “Do-It-Yourself Electric Back Shaver” are the names of two Mangroomer models. I think the name itself is really funny. Reminds me of theMansierre from the old Seinfeld days and the word “manboobs” also comes to mind. I’m not sure exactly how I feel about this thing. Is the male population becoming too metro? Do your husbands groom? Have they always groomed or is this a new thing they’re doing? 

My husband came home after visiting one of his perennially single friends last weekend and told me that he had to help his buddy shave his back! This confession alarmed me at first. I mean, it was an odd visual, two construction worker-type dudes shaving each other. Donnie and I had just watched Brokeback Mountain on TNT the week before so that whole gay cowboy theme was still burned into my mind. I know it was a harmless guy helping guy thing to do but still. *shivers* Anyhow, back to the subject, my husband said that someone needs to invent a back shaver that works like using a towel to dry your back because it is just too hard to shave your own back. Uh, ok. First of all, I can’t imagine a towel with razor blades on it. Sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen. And second of all, I think if guys are going to get rid of their back hair, they should use wax or laser. The last thing I want to feel is a bare stubbly back in the middle of…you know. 

http://2funmoms.com/?p=527#more-527

I am with you 2 Fun Moms--that shit has Broke Back written all over it!

Apparently the ManGroomer™ brings up a visceral reaction not just in Penelope...

You Have Boyfren?

Two separate subjects that I can somehow relate them. You all know Penelope has been working on her Asian issues. I was looking at Anjelah Johnson's page the other night (fabulous comedian that does the manicure routine I posted on here)-

http://www.anjelahnicolejohnson.com/

Well there's a store on her page! Penelope didn't memorize her AMEX number for nothing! I gots myself a cute little t-shrt:

I know your first response is, "damn girl look at that rack!"  This is the optical illusion that occurs when you are taking a picture of your chest with an iphone 6 inches away. I am wondering if I should use this picture on an Internet dating site though...

Okay, next subject that is somehow related to "You Have Boyfren?" Last night/this morning I was awake due to sleeping at all hours and being sick. I sent my friend an email asking a question. She wrote right back at 0200 in the morning. This is the friend that got cock blocked from "doing it" during Gasparilla. They DID IT! And it was good. She have Boyfren!  The End.

Phoebe

oh where to begin...there is a place I love to go for lunch down the road called Pane Rustica. It used to be a hole in the wall before I moved to Louisiana. Now they have a big, beautiful space and the food is still just as yummy. When I first moved back, I would take a book and order lunch and sit by myself for an hour or two...There always was a familiar smiling face when I went in. A woman worked at Pane that I recognized from the past. I couldn't remember if she worked at the original location or if I knew her from another local restaurant. She was always laughing--she would often wear her red hair in pigtails and never lost her cool when the restaurant was overflowing with customers. She would wear funky jewelry that would be a common topic of discussion. One day I complimented her necklace. She told me the pendant part was an old earring that had broken. She inspired me to dig through my jewelry box to see what I could make out of odds and ends.

I went by Pane a couple of months ago and I ordered my food. As I waited, my eyes drifted to a picture over a collection box with a small note. I recognized the face on the picture. I read that she has an advanced type of cancer. The restaurant was taking donations. It was the lovely lady with the pigtails. Her name is Phoebe. After all these years I never knew her name.

I choked back tears as the woman behind the counter told me about Phoebe's illness. She has colon cancer. Stage IV. I left the restaurant and I couldn't get her out of my mind. I called my friends that also frequented Pane. None of us could believe it.

A few days later I got a friend request from a woman on Facebook. I didn't recognize the name, so I looked at the person's pictures. I noticed her profile picture was of her and a guy that works at Pane. I scrolled through her other pictures and found one of Phoebe. I wrote to the friend requester and told her that I didn't know her, but I recognized some people in her photos. Amy Jean replied that she was a jewelry designer and she had seen me on the local bookstore page (Inkwood Books-yay Independent Booksellers!) http://www.inkwoodbooks.com/
She said she friends people to get the word out on her designs. We started to chat and I found that she is very good friends with Phoebe. How crazy is it that I was thinking about Phoebe and Amy Jean comes into my life via the Internet? I love her quote from her page-

To take over planet Earth one bead at a time. To start by making people smile when looking into a mirror at their shiny new piece of jewelry.

 She is working on getting a webpage set up. For now, here is her fb page:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Amy-Jean-Designs/176008099495?v=info#!/pages/Amy-Jean-Designs/176008099495?v=wall

Sulie and I went to see Amy Jean at the restaurant (she works there too) a few weeks ago. It was so weird. I felt like I was on a blind date. We had corresponded so much, but had not met each other. We had never met because Amy Jean works nights and I  always go in during the day. She is as beautiful outside as she is inside. She updated us on Phoebe with tears in her eyes. Phoebe gets a PET scan this week. She had been denied coverage for chemo to shrink the tumor before surgery by Blue Cross saying she had a "pre-existing condition." Luckily there is a program at St. Joe's that helps with the chemo. As you can imagine, money is an issue. 

If you are local, please go by Pane and drop something in the box for Phoebe. If not, you can contact me or Amy Jean through her fb page. Prayers and Good Thoughts for Phoebe...

The Punisher™ out for a Saturday Stroll

So I've been stuck in the house since Thursday, sick, sleeping all day and feeling lousy. I decided to head out to the grocery. I was overwhelmed by all The Punisher™ opportunities. But the ones that needed punishing were adults!

• Exhibit A: South Tampa snooty-petooty displaying her new baby in her fashionable strap on contraption. The baby looked to be 6 weeks old tops. Penelope may not have kids, but I was a peds nurse. Mrs. S. Tampa Mommy is talking to another one of her S. Tampa comrades. They are oblivious to poor Miss Baby. Her head is completely flopped back. It hurt to look at her. I had visions of my Mom doing impromptu childcare lessons at Publix when we were little, It was mortifying. She would show strangers how to support the neck and do inservices on the fontanelles. She felt the fact that she was a pediatric nurse, worked at the health department AND had 3 kids gave her full license to teach on the proper way to hold a baby. I struggled, I twitched but I held The Punisher™ at bay.
• Exhibit B: In parking garage of Publix. I see one of those labradoodle looking dogs sitting in a SUV. I look closer--all the windows are up and the sunroof is closed. The Punisher™ is really on fire now. I write a note, "DOGS NEED AIR TOO!!!!" and slide in the rubber of the driver's side window. Mr. LabrapoodleDoodle doesn't even move (because he's probably oxygen deprived). I was going to go in and have the owners of the fancy Lexus SUV that are killing their dog paged, but I stopped myself. Sulie got reamed by  woman a few months ago when she ran into the store and left her dog in the car. She had the window cracked though. The Punisher™ hops in the racing blue Taurus and heads to Walgreens.
• Exhibit C: The Walgreens experience was benign with no need for punishing. As I am slowly driving through the parking lot I see a shiny new Mercedes backing up towards me. I slammed on the brakes and honk my horn sure that the guy would stop. He didn't. I hurried up and put the Taurus into reverse. He missed me by inches. He wasn't leaving; he was still parking. There was a lady watching and she shook her head. I rolled down my window and waited for Mr. Mercedes. I might add that since I have been sick I have bathed, but my hair has gotten no attention, I mean NO attention. There I am all crack 'ho looking with my wild eyes in the blue Taurus. Mr. Mercedes is short and fat with that ruddy, grey colored drinker look. I said, "did you even look behind you when you backed up?", he says, "nice lady, yes I did", I said, "there is no way because you barely missed me and you kept backing up", "He said (in a more menacing tone with clenched fists as he walked towards my car, "I said, you're a nice lady, go have a nice day". (Okay, he was trying to use some fucked up reverse psychology on me) I had some psychology for him...I said, "yes, I am a nice lady, and you're a tool and I bet your's is little" (while holding up my hand to show small size), he then raised his fist and I laughed and rolled up my window.

Ahh, The Punisher's™ work is never done.

'Lipkin, Williams & Kramer...Super Bowl Super Date?'

'Lipkin, Williams & Kramer...Super Bowl Super Date?'

I am speechless

Just saw this commercial...

Being Such a Chick...

This is what Boy #6 just sent me: 

hey, your going soft on me, that pole dancing video was weak. Also, you have not addressed anal bleaching, and who would bleach a vagina? What color is it spose to be. i have seen, pink, red, purply, blurply, brown. Anyway, quit being such a chick

First, bleach is not getting anywhere near my front or back butt! Second, the pole dancing video is for my friend's fabulous dating site, DORK!  I cut and pasted that blog on weird things women do because I've been sick and did not have much to write about. Watch out Boy #6! More "chick"
 posts coming up...

Bess the Book Bus

Bess the Book Bus is the Coolest! Please take a moment to see what she is all about!

http://www.wtsp.com/news/mostpop/story.aspx?storyid=114042&provider=top
http://www.bessthebookbus.org/

And to vote for Jenn to win 50k for funding for Bess!

A world without books is one with limited opportunity to foster imagination and creativity. 

Bess the Book Bus will travel to 40 states in 90 days visiting Title 1 schools, Head Start programs, shelters, and Boys and Girls clubs conducting read- alouds and giving away new books. Our goal is to build home libraries for our children while generating enthusiasm for the reading experience. It has been asserted by First Book that “the single strongest indicator of a child’s future reading ability has proven to be the number of books in the home.” 67 percent of low -income families own no books for their children. Where middle-income neighborhoods have an average of thirteen books per child, there is only one book per three hundred in low-income neighborhoods. Bess will bridge that enrichment gap by delivering more than 35,000 books into communities nationwide for the second year in a row while maintaining our Tampa outreach that serves 8,000 plus families each year.

http://www.refresheverything.com/BesstheBookBus

Pole Dancing

Texting

I get daily emails from urban dictionary. Today it is...

Slurring Your Text: When you're so drunk that your texts are unreadable.

Texting has changed our world. I am going to see how many tacky/stupid things I've seen/heard people do in texts and just start typing. Ready, set, GO!:

• Quitting a job
• Breaking up
• Wanting a divorce
• Lying, lots of lying--saying you are somewhere that you're not
• Texting in the movies
• Texting while going 70 mph down I-75
• Texting while crossing a street in NYC
• Canceling plans with a friend
• Canceling any plans
• Receiving a text from a child while they are at school that says "what's up?' (yes, one of my step sons did that--I believe he spelled it "whatz sup")
• Replying to one's boss by accident with something racy meant for one's lover
• Meaning to write something racy to a boss
• Writing nasty things while in the middle of a divorce (and your soon to be ex wife saves them all and gives them to her attorney)
• Married people texting "friends" of the opposite sex at all hours of the night
• Kids "sexting" (while I was married we found pictures that a 14 year old girl sent to one of the twins) This stuff really happens.

Okay, I am sure there is a lot more but you get what I'm saying. I have noticed many of my posts have been related to texting and cell phones. I have a love/hate thing with my phone. Some days I want to fling it in the toilet while other days I thing it is the best invention ever.

I was watching Modern Family (best show ever) and the dorky real estate agent Dad talks about texting the daughter's boyfriend after they break up. I think many people hide behind texts. It is easier for some to text than to have a real conversation. For all my issues with technology--it is a text that changed my life for the best...

More on the Front Butt...

The 6 Weirdest Things 

Women Do to Their Vaginas

— By Andy Wright

| Tue Feb. 2, 2010 10:24 AM PST

This post first appeared at Alternet.

What's wrong with your vagina? If you answered "nothing," you're probably wrong. According to the beauty-industrial complex, it's ugly, and it smells bad. But don't worry—there's nothing that money can't fix.

1. Problem: Your Vagina Smells Bad

Solution: Vaginal Deodorant

In the seventies, Massengill tried to marry feminism and its vaginal deodorant spray ("With Hexachlorophene") in an ad that declared the product to be "The Freedom Spray." It was "...the better way to be free to enjoy being a woman. Free from worry about external vaginal odor." Because you're going to need that time you used to spend worrying about your vaginal odor to flirt your way through the glass ceiling. Oh, and Hexachlorophene? It's a disinfectant that can be lethal when absorbed through the skin. In 1972, it was added to baby powder in France due to a manufacturing error and killed thirty-six children.

In case you think vaginal deodorant is a relic of the past, just take a trip to the drug store. (I did, and I took notes. The staff of my local Walgreens is convinced that I'm both very thorough and that my vagina smells really bad.) There are several kinds of vaginal deodorants still for sale (Walgreens even manufactures a generic version). You can buy scented vaginal suppositories called Norforms in Island Escape and Summer's Eve Deodorant Spray in Island Splash. (Norforms contain something called Benzethonium chloride, which is also used as a hard surface disinfectant for fruit and classified as a poison in Switzerland. Exotic!) And you can buy FDS (Feminine, Discreet, Sensual) Spray ("For the woman who cares.") in a myriad of scents including Sheer Tropics and Fresh Island Breeze.

Because if you really cared, you'd make your vagina smell like a poisonous island.

2. Problem: Your Vagina Is Dirty
Solution: Douching

Douching, the act of forcing a mixture of fluids up into the vagina with a tube and pump, was first promoted as a form of birth control (it doesn't work) and has continued to be used for vaguely medical reasons: to prevent STIs (sexually transmitted infections), to clean the vagina after menstruation and, of course, to rid it of that disgusting vagina smell. Douching has been repeatedly discouraged by the medical community, which not only doesn't attribute any health benefits to the act, but believes that it can actually harm women. A government Web site run by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services discourages douching by answering a series of hypothetical questions, one of which is: "My vagina has a terrible odor, can douching help?" The answer: No. Get thee to a doctor.

Despite health concerns, manufacturers still churn out vaginal douches. Pick up a box of Summer's Eve Douche, and you'll find warnings that douching has been associated with PID (Pelvic Inflamatory Disease), ectopic pregnancy and infertility. Right next to the suggestion that women douche after their menstrual period, after using contraceptive jellies and creams and to "clear out any vaginal secretions." So basically, any time your vagina isn't as dry as a British sitcom.

3. Problem: Your Vagina Is Too Loose

Solution: Vaginal Rejuvenation

Let's face it. Nature really screwed up when it made the vagina. Never mind that that it accommodates the birth of a child or that it's fundamentally better designed than male genitalia. (Who wants to carry their most sensitive reproductive organs on the outside?) While nature was busy dishing out things like multiple orgasms, it forgot to make vaginas vice-tight. Luckily, plastic surgeons have stepped in to put an end to womankind's collective suffering.

Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation is a trademarked phrase that refers to a practice developed and popularized by Dr. David Matlock, who's made several appearances on the E! channel's plastic surgery reality show, Dr.90210. Matlock and other doctors who carry out LVR claim that the $4,000 to $20,000 procedure makes women's vaginas tighter, thus increasing sexual pleasure.

But many doctors disagree. The American Urogynocology Society won't endorse it. And the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists cautioned in a 2007 statement that women seeking "designer vaginas" should be "informed about the lack of data supporting the efficacy of these procedures and their potential complications, including infection, altered sensation, dyspareunia, adhesions, and scarring." Sexy!

4. Problem: Your Vagina Is Ugly

Solution: Labiaplasty

If your vagina is tight enough (and let's face it, it's probably not) you've still got to deal with the labia. And by "deal with," I mean remove. Labiaplasty drastically reduces the labia, the protruding lips that surround the opening of the vagina. Why would you want to do this? Because your labia are "unequal," "elongated," "large," "irregular," "floppy," and "unfeminine." These are just some of the unflattering adjectives bandied about on the Web sites of surgeons who offer this procedure. Luckily, with the use of lasers and scalpels, your vagina can be made "prettier," "better proportioned," "youthful," and achieve "the true Playboy aesthetic look." How much will it cost you to make your labia proportional and feminine? About $5,000 or more.

5. Problem: Your Vagina Tastes Bad

Solution: Vagina Mints

If your partner is reluctant to give you oral sex, it's not because of pervasive cultural belief that cunnilingus is complicated to the point of being impossible and that vaginas are inherently icky (thus the need to uncomplicate them and un-ickify them with, oh, say, labiaplasty) it's because your vagina tastes bad. Enter the Linger Internal Vaginal Flavoring, or Altoids for your vagina. Linger assumes you already feel bad about your nether regions, stating on its Web site that the mint-flavored pill "decreases self-consciousness" and tosses out the unattributed statistic that 72 percent of women feel self conscious about their taste and odor. Dubious marketing practices aside, the Linger mint isn't just a harmless, if asinine, oddity. Mother Jones magazine did some digging into the origins of Linger and discovered that the vagina mint is no different from a regular mint. In other words, it's made out of sugar. And putting sugar-based mint directly into your vagina is a recipe for a mint-flavored yeast infection.

6. Problem: Your Vagina Is the Wrong Color

Solution: Vaginal Bleaching and Dying

Many women are under the impression that it's OK to have a vagina colored vagina. They're wrong, of course. They should be pink, and exceptionally so. What's a woman with a vagina colored vagina to do? Bleach it. Accomoclitic Laser and Wax Studio in Lakewood, Colorado, purveyors of an anal bleaching product called "Pink Wink," also sell something called Bleach Babe, a cream that promises to do away with the "natural discoloration surrounding the exterior of the vagina." Bleach Babe contains Kojic acid, the same ingredient that keeps salmon meat pink. South Beach Solutions sells a similar lightening product with Sodium hydroxide, which can also be found in drain decloggers and septic tank cleansers.

If bleaching fails to render your vagina the color of a Barbie Dream House, you can try My New Pink Button, billed as a "Genital Cosmetic Colorant that restores the "Pink" back to woman's genitals." Because vaginas that aren't vibrantly pink are old and sad. My New Pink Button is meant to be painted onto the vagina (it comes in powder form and must be scooped up with a moist Q-tip like device) and lasts 48 to 72 hours. After which, one supposes, users must reapply in order to maintain the youthful status of their genitals.