ipad Prisoner

I used to be shackled to my ipad. It went to bed with me under a pillow. I carried it in my purse.

I have broken the shackles. Don't get me wrong--I can still spend hours clutching it. Email, quick Internet searches, Words With Friends (which is like crack by the way...)

One of my friends named her ipad Esteban. Another one has Bruno. (I'm having deja blog--I may have mentioned this before.)

This is the picture I got when I googled "chained to ipad".

It is a computer wallpaper. What kind of creep using this???

Mystery

I believe in mystery when it comes to men and women. No one will see me flossing, peeing (I've done it in the past--no more), picking my teeth, shaving my legs, tweezing, or any other maintenance/body function.

One of my work friends poops in front of her husband. Yuck! How does one get a hard-on after seeing his wife poop? She reason that he saw it when she had their son. May I say it again? YUCK.

Manfriend™ has learned my ways of mystery. He does not floss in front of me. He knows to leave me alone in the bathroom.

I say let them think you are a "Natural Beauty".

Correlation between having sex and blog time...

I've gotten many emails asking me where I've been. I just got back from a trip, but it was only a week. I was surprised to see my last post was June 2. It made me wonder if there is a correlation between my lack of blogging and starting a new relationship. I used to blog at night and on the weekends. I'm pretty busy on the weekends, but I still have time in the evenings. I have a really long list of subjects. It is so interesting to me that when I was once so prolific (as my friend GBS commented) and now I'm not as disciplined at writing.

I do believe there is a direct correlation between having sex and blog time...

25 years of Oprah

You know, I can't decide if I love Oprah or if I want to kick her in the box...

Dating after divorcing a ManGroomer™

People, I got boyfriend, a lover, a companion (what the hell do I call a guy I like, we do it and he spends the night when I'm 46?) I shall refer to him as my Manfriend™.

I've been keeping my red flag detector hidden. Of course I did a full background check on myfloridacounty.com. He truly was divorced for 5 years. He really does have a condo he is buying. He's polite. He plans dates. One night he asked me if I was comfortable in bed because he had his arm around me. I almost had a fuckin seizure. I've never had a guy ask me if I was comfortable. They sure will tell you if you inadvertently bump them with your elbow and it hurts while you're blowing them. Ugh. This one is different.

We talked tonight about what our "Issues" were. He quietly said his are around trust and fear of abandonment. (his father died when he was 11--same as me). I agreed that when you lose a parent that young that abandonment could come up. It was my turn to share. People, we know I got a long ass list. I stuck with the top level items. Trust particularly around cheating. I experienced a large amount betrayal in a short period of time--John, match.com tool, Spencer, Special Ops Boy and Dillhole. Thank god I didnt sleep with them all. My other one is convincing myself that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. I didn't tell him that one. I can't show all my crazy cards. I also know I can be kinda sassy to cover up my nerves.

He will occasionally say that I am "crazy". I had him clarify that he meant in a funny way. I told him I've had extensive sessions with the finest therapist in Tampa Bay and I'm essentially cured. Some of my friends read this,but more strangers follow the blog. I talk like I write. It's in my mind and my mouth is open and the words tumble out.

Tonight I told him I write a blog(and that I haven't blogged much lately since I was making up for lost time in the sex department). I also told him I would not feel comfortable letting him read it. Some is me at my worse. A lot of me at my funniest. It may show sides that a manfriend may never see and may not need to see. He said he understood. Give me your opinion. You guys have been reading this since the beginning.

He's kind and really smart. He's good looking. He loves my animals. I started to fall when he kissed my dog on the head goodbye. He doesn't compliment with words. I don't like to fish for em either. Lord knows after the road I've been these past few years a girl has gotta hear some nice stuff. I stare at his eyes and his smile and I think that's it. That's his compliment. And then he pets Daisy.

I need a secret Manfriend™ decoder ring...

Exes Birthdays--Have your own party

Today is John's 50th birthday. I looked at the date this afternoon and remembered. He often had big blowout parties to celebrate. Polly pointed out that most men have their drivers license by the time they are 50.  That made me laugh.

When will the jokes at John's expense ever end? Sulie did a spoken word voice memo about John. It is classic. I wish I could post audio on here. It says some like like, John, You're a fat fuck and it's not bad luck, it's choices. And you know what? You're a fat fuck. It is classic. Tonight she sends me a Talking Tom e Cat video (some apple app) where the cat says, "you know what? You're a fat fuck.

I missed the bullet with that mutha FUCKA. I say next year I need to whip up some daiquiris and boil me up some crawfish to celebrate.

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