Sending off the vibe

I have so much to write about. I have been sending myself emails so I don't forgot. Okay, in the last 2 weeks I have been contacted by 3 guys from the past. Let's examine:

#1: Guy from past that I haven't seen in forever. I don't think he even got a name on here (he was B.B.--before blog). He sends me an after midnight text that simply reads, "I want to lick you.". WTF? Does that work? My niece said she bets he sent that out to all the ladies in his cell and waited to see who responded first. I just deleted it.

#2: Out of Town Liaision. Oy. A drunk call. Apologizing. Saying he messed up with me. He missed his opportunity. Blah, blah, blah. I thanked him for his apology. I reminded him that I have moved on. He then suggests we get together. Ugh.

#3: Dillhole. This is the oddest. I get a text that says "Happy Nurses Week." Okay, I don't work as a nurse now. Wasn't aware it was their week and WTF? I write back, "huh?". (thanks to Polly for that suggestion). We corresponded a bit about healthcare (yes that was a springboard to talk about the economy and healthcare reform). It was weird. I started to analyze it and then I quickly dropped it. The road to Dillhole leads to CrazyTown™.

Brain and Coota are none of your business

I'm down in Naples having a girls weekend to celebrate Sulie's birthday. I'm writing this on my my iPad. I hope it looks okay because you can't do formatting.

There has been a lot of talk about the guy I'm starting to see. I have made a vow to myself that I will not blog about him in a way that is not respectful. I've saved that for the parade of tools I've known in the past.

This subject came up in the pool yesterday while sipping mojitos--the age old "how much do I tell?" scenario. I am a firm believer in never talking specifics about numbers of past partners, positions, quotes like "the first time I saw his cock I asked, you think that thing will be able to fit in little ole me?", or anything else that remotely suggests that I've had sex before (even though I've been a licensed driver and sex haver for 30 years).

We also talked about therapy and medication. I said how (what do I call him?)... Let's say New Guy innocently looked at the pill box with M, T, W,T,F,S,S on it and said, "you have a lot of pills." I deftly went into my game face and replied, "yeah, vitamins, blood pressure and cholesterol." It wasn't a total lie...


That is when niece Jackie brilliantly said, "you know what? Your brain and coota are your business." First, let me explain the definition of coota. Coota, an off shoot of cooter. Cooter is a commonly accepted term in the south for the front butt on a woman. In our neice/sister language it has transformed to "coota". It started one night when we changed the words of Heart's "Barracuda" to "Stanky Coota".

It does make sense. I don't need to share any stories about the history of my precious coota or the ups and downs my brain has been through. Not now. The main thing is right now, my coota smells like a spring day and I'm feeling good.

Hoohah Shaving

This is classic. Courtesy of my friend Scott...I think the article says it all. It may be small. Double-click on the article to make it bigger.

I'm okay!

I've gotten several emails checking on me since I haven't blogged in so long. I'm okay--just super busy. Here's a list:

• New man--yes people, I met someone that I really like and I have seen no red flags. He's vegan. We will discuss...
• I got accepted into a masters program to get my practitioners license.
• Asshole boss with lots of drama. 
• Bullshit work meeting

I have lots of stuff to write about. I will get back to it this weekend.

Thank you!

Penelope