Saturday, October 31, 2009


It is a dateless Halloween for ID. I can't say that I am too upset about that. I am going to be hanging out with Inky and Wildfire and players to be named later. I am sure it won't be a lonely night for me. The costume is sexy, my body is in better shape, I feel healthy. Yeah, I think tonight is going to be a good night. L'chaim!

Thursday, October 29, 2009

swimming in my head.

I have been obsessing about The Ex lately. I have been googling his name, checking out some of his domains, even thinking about him in my fantasies. It is odd how it seems that so much time can go by and I don't think about him once, and then something happens-an email, a photograph, a memory-and I am off in his world. It seems to be a cycle for me but one that seems to have a longer rotation each time around. I look to my friends for help and support. Sometimes I turn to my family.

I let him go more and more all the time, but i occasionally allow him to dig in his nails and teeth into my reason. I called Inky last night when I was having a particularly rough moment after looking at his domain registry and seeing that he finally deleted the website that was our names and purchased on with his and the Blonde's. Inky said to me so honestly:

You are the one making yourself feel bad. You need to stop doing this to yourself.

It is obvious he is over you. You need to get over him.

How pathetic of him to own that site after only knowing her for a short time.

This last one stung because in my mind he actions mean that he has found his soulmate. He bought that domain because he has that connection with her; he feels there might be something lasting there, at least as long as a year's domain name registration. I thought he was my soulmate. Sometimes I still try to make sense of what happened to us. A lot of the time I come up with it was meant to be. Sometimes I come up wondering what it was I did to drive him away. I try not to care. I try not to judge it all I just try to accept that it all happened and this is my life now. It is just that sometimes i fell that my life now is just too lonely to bear. Ah well. This too shall pass.

[additional thought]

My relationship with him, it wasn't always good. It seemed good a lot, but it wasn't always. I reflect on who and how I was with him and I realize I let go of much of who I am. I lost me somewhere along the way, and it truly became about him. I do feel that contributed to an end. It, in a way, wasn't honest. A relationship that is dishonest has a fungal rot that eventually eats away at the core until nothing is left but molded splinters. Yet, the decay restocks the earth and something is born. I learned something about myself. I feel now I know a little more about what I want in a relationship and what I want to get out of one. I have come out different than who I was when in I went. The experience has changed me forever.

I don't feel that I am ready yet for any type of serious commitment. I still have much more to learn and love about me. While on my journey, however, I don't mind dipping my toe in the pool. I may even occasionally bellyflop. It is a bit easier to breathe now. I am going to be just fine.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Pelo Largo

There is this fine, tall drink of water that I have had my eye on for sometime. A few weeks ago we spent some time hanging out and talking after a chance meeting at a local coffee / wine cafe. I ended up kissing him. Just a little no tongue peck. Well, two little pecks.

I have seen him here and there since then. I tried to play it cool; though, it has been a bit awkward. I have always been the aggressor in our "relationship". It really isn't any kind of relationship at all. It is me flirting and mostly admiring him from afar. Occassionally I get the cojones to say something stupid. Honestly at the moment it seems like such a good idea. Tonight I saw him on FB and the idiocy ensues.


you know i am here at home feeling pretty sick. i think i need an injection ;P

8:24pmPelo Largo

poor thing!


i am a poor pitiful thing right now. i have been quarantined to my house. no fun for [I.D.] who loves to socialize.

8:34pmPelo Largo

its fun to have fun but you've got to know how!


I know some good games we could play, I know some new tricks, A lot of good tricks. I will show them to you

8:53pmPelo Largo

can we put it on youtube?


i don't think we need to be all that public but our own video isn't out of the question.

8:55pmPelo Largo

i dunnoi...might end up on a vh1 special some day!


or at the very least an e. true hollywood story.

Inky Pink tells me I need to stop doing things that are going to make it more uncomfortable between us. She is right; I know she is. However, gosh, I just can't help myself. I don't see this guy as someone to date just more of a conquest that I must have.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Boston and U2

So I only have two words to describe last night ... guilt fellatio.

That being said, let's begin at the beginning. I arrive at the concert to meet Boston and I am about a half hour late. I was in bumper to bumper to get in. It was awful. I sneak in a flask of Captain Morgan's in my jeans and after two large diet cokes the flask is empty. Boston and I are laughing and having a good time. That is until my mouth gets in the way. You see, something that you must know about me is that sometimes I can be a bit too honest and open. Sometimes I say things and share tidbits that are just better left unsaid. Add alcohol and a mild pharmaceutical relaxer into the mix and my mouth becomes a spigot of inane spewings for which there is no shut off valve.

We have just sat through the Black Eyed Peas, opening for U2. The lights are up and everyone is talking, taking bathroom breaks and getting concessions. Boston and I are discussing my new tattoo that you can sort of see through the small tear in my jeans. I tell him that he will get to see it later. ONLY meaning that I know we are sharing a hotel room and I know when I put on my jammies and we are not in public I would love to show it off. He laughs and says, "I didn't think it was going to be that easy. I thought I was going to have to work for it."

I laugh and immediately think of the poll I put up yesterday. Inside my head somewhere I thought it was a good idea to share this information. So I chime, "It is funny you should say that. I actually put a poll up on this blog that I have going on whether we should have sex tonight." As it comes out of my mouth I truly think this is a harmless, kind of fun thing. It is flirty. The poll is playful. I expect his reaction to be something like oh yeah? And how did I do or So what is the verdict. However, in the specs of time that dragged on after those cursed words dripped from my lips, I see that his real reaction differs greatly from my imagined one.

His first words were, "Oh, that's nice. Whatever."

I think maybe he is joking. I am still thinking this is really no big deal. It is funny. "Are you serious? Are you mad?"

"Yeah I am mad. That is so lame."

I try my best to put out the fire and desperately wish I had a flux capacitor and a Delorean. "Don't be mad. I didn't tell you because I thought you were going to get upset. I told you cause it's fun. It's funny"

"Yeah, maybe for you. Everyone we know reads this and knows about me. That is so weak."

"No it's not like that." I have to admit I have told Detroit about the blog but I don't think he really reads it. I never thought that this was going to swing so far out of my favor. I swear if I think about the look of anger and bewilderment on his face makes me want to cry AGAIN. "Please can we just forget about this. Let's not this ruin our night."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. Let's just stop talking about it."

We sit in awkward silence for a moment and thankfully U2 comes on the break the stifling tension. Sitting there I begin to think about what I said, wishing I hadn't. I wished not to be there and hoped I really wasn't. The more I wished the worse I felt until I began to feel the sting of tears in my eyes. I am now telling myself not to cry. I am begging myself not to make this situation any more miserable than it is. But it cannot be helped. In the noise of the stadium and my mind I begin to weep. Almost immediately Boston turns to me and says, "Tears don't work on me and if you don't smile I am going to punch you in your boob."

This does little to help, but at least I think he isn't piping mad anymore. Soon he reaches over and caresses my knee and holds my hand. It takes many songs and most of the concert, but I begin to recover.

When One came on, he pulled me to him as we stood. He put his hands on my hips and laced his fingers with mine. We swayed to the beat of the song and I began to weep again. I was a hot mess inside my mind but I didn't want to harp or exacerbate the situation, so I went with it.

Soon the concert was over. We went out into the parking lot and drank wine while we waited for the long line of cars to clear. We danced sweetly to Nat King Cole's Love. He followed me to the hotel, us both guided by my GPS. We were laughing again and I had almost completely forgot about my earlier faux pas. I was betting so did he.

Up in the room we decided it was too late, 1:30 AM, to walk to any bars. We cracked open the second bottle of wine. Before long we were kissing. Soon, I apologized for saying anything - not for having the blog. He asked who honestly knew about it. I told him Detroit was really the only one we both knew. Some more tongue tango and we found ourselves into a mammoth make-out session that, without going into every detail, ended with, well, see the first line of this post.

Before we drifted off to sleep, I do remember us having a brief discussion about him standing me up for the football game. He says that he doesn't remember making plans. I recount to him every detail of the phone conversation when we made plans. I am pretty sure I said it doesn't matter now anyway. I am pretty sure I feel that maybe we are even. Actually, maybe he does have one up on me.

This morning, we woke up at almost 11 and headed out to lunch. We had sushi at Ra, walked around Tempe, has a refreshing sweet treat at Mojo Yogurt. It was a lovely afternoon and I enjoyed getting to know him better. We said our goodbyes and I headed back home. He did the same. He said that he, Detroit and the boys are coming to Prescott for Halloween. I think that would be fun. We will see.

I almost didn't blog about this, because I was so embarrassed. I almost didn't share; however, what is the fun and the honesty in that? Also, just so everyone knows since I have deleted the poll, the result was a tie between Let him get you off and then roll over and say you are tired. and Don't make a decision now. Just see where the moment and the tequilla take you. I hope you enjoy.

Happy to be home,

Monday, October 19, 2009

You decide my fate

Ok folks. I am torn here about my date with Boston tomorrow and I need your help. If you are unfamiliar with the situation please read the following entries:

A Long Lost Crush
Boston Stays Home...
Boston is a Tool
Boston WTF

Let's face it. I am a woman. I have needs. However, at the same time I think that I need to punish this little twerp for his prior transgression. And yet on a whole other level, I have gone this long without any nookie, I have to wonder how long I can go. I am stuck between a cock and a hard place. I mean rather a rock and my O face. Er, wait that wasn't right either. I think you get it though.

Take a gander to the right. I have placed a nice little voting poll for you out there in blogger land. The fate of my body is in your twitchy typing fingers. Ooh. I feel dirty

Thursday, October 15, 2009

The dead rise

I got an email yesterday from the ex. it read:

I am sure you are back in school and busy, I am really busy and time is flying by. Just wanted to let you know I mailed you a check for the moped payment. If you could do me a favor and not deposit it until friday when I get paid that would be appreciated. Next month I will start a direct payment on the 10th for $50, but I am in the processs of switching banks so just sent a regular check this month. I know this moped thing kind of sucks and I appreciate you working this out with me, money has been tight and I am like a slowly sinking ship. I just consilidated all my credit card debt so after this month things should get better and like I said I will just send you the $50 on the 10th automatically. Hope all is well with you and the animals and that you are enjoying this nice weather. Don't feel obligated to write back if hearing from me is akward, just wanted to give you a heads up.

[The Ex]

Before, when I would receive emails from him, a wave of panic would wash over me. My chest would tighten and the lump in my throat would begin to strangle my stomach. It was all too much for me to bear. This time, I smiled. I took glee in the "sinking ship" his life has become. I am not sure that is right, but it feels good not to be in so much pain. It feels good not to be the one that is feeling the crunch. I swiftly sent back my breezy reply. Perhaps he expected me not to.

[The Ex]:

No problem. I don't blame you for switching banks. I have been working on doing that myself. BOA blows chunks. I am actually off this week (fall break); so, I am not really busy at all. I am just doing stuff I want to, which is nice. Though, homework for NAU is not always something I enjoy.

I never cash checks right away anyway, but do you mean this Friday or next Friday?

Try to keep your head above water. You will come out on top. You always do.


The email was perfect. It said everything that I wanted it to. I don't need your money. I don't really miss you. I am doing just fine. And I feel a little sorry for you. Of course being the gossip queen that I am, I forwarded on the emails to my girls Wildfire and Inky Pink. Wildfire thought I was totally being too nice. In fact, she had this to say:

You are too nice! He never comes out on top. In fact, he only comes out if a woman pulls him out. I know this is hard for you but you are so much better off without him. ... let that whore take care of him; i can assure you that she doesn't compare to you. you are worth more than he could ever give you. just think...he said he consilidated (sic) his debt and that he is like a "sinking ship". THANK GOD that you are not involved in that. YOU are the one that has come out on top! I hope you see that!!

What are friends for. :) She is great. All of my friends have been so strong for me when I couldn't be for myself. Inky Pink and I were messaging about the whole thing and I did wonder if he regrets leaving me. I wondered if he remembers how good he had it once. Inky assured me that it sorta sounds like his does. However, whether he does or not, it doesn't matter. Each day for me is a little easier. Sure I still cry sometimes because i miss the companionship. On occasion, his ghost still haunts this house where we used to live together. I still call my mom and want comfort from being alone. Nevertheless, each minute that passes is one where he is further removed from my life and I am so much better off without him.

So, smiling from ear to ear I decided to share with all of you. It's a grrreat day!

Leaving them in the dust,

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Boston WTF

This week is my fall break from work. I have made plans to go to take a three day trip to Laughlin to hang out with some old friends there and celebrate Detroit's birthday. Thursday night last Boston gives me jingle. I miss the call, but he leaves me a message. It is all small talk and whatnot. He asks how I am, tells me he hears I am coming into town, lets me know he would like to hang out. We run in the same circle of friends up there, so I am sure I will run into him. He never mentions the fact that he and I were to go to a football game together and he totally blew me off. I find the situation interesting.

I seek the advice of Inky Pink. She tells me to play it cool. I play it like Fonzi. I wait until Sunday to call him back. I actually don't believe he is going to answer the phone because I know he is hanging out with Detroit watching football. He proves me wrong. "Hey girl," he cheerily chirps into the phone.

"Hey, [Boston]. How are you?"

"Can't complain. I hear you are coming into town. When? Tuesday? So, you are going to catch our softball game, right. And you know later that night we are going to see Zombieland. It's going to be sick."

"Yup. All of that is true." I am cool whip at this point. We talk for just a few minutes. I tell him I have to run. I don't have anything really to do, but I don't want to give this guy any more than he deserves.

Monday I am scrambling trying to finalize plans for a house sitter. I can't find anyone. I text Detroit and tell him I can't make it into town, but wish him a happy birthday nonetheless. I am riding the Facebook wave when Boston instant messages me.

I hear you are the kind of girl who would be interested in going to a U2 concert with me in Phoenix on the 20th.

I am stupefied. Who is this man? Where does he get the nerve? First he completely blows me off. Then he plays like nothing happened. Now he is asking me out on what, a date? I am tempted to reply snidely making a comment about how I would love to go, but is he sure he is going to show up. Instead, I figure I have the upper hand anyway so I should just go with it.

You heard right. I am absolutely that girl.

He replies, Great. It is a date.

I was right. He is asking me out. We message a little longer and make plans to meet at the gate and to spend the night in Phoenix. He tells me he will take care of everything. I tell him to make sure to get a room with two beds. I may be going on eight months with no sex and pretty hard up at this point, but I am not even about to make it that easy for him. I don't really know what angle he is playing, but I am not going to let my guard down. I crushed on this guy and he threw me away. Now the tables have turned seemingly. I still stand by my philosophy though. The shittier you treat a guy, the better he treats you.

So, Tuesday night I will be in Phoenix listening to the Black Eyed Peas open up for U2. I got that boom boom pow.

Wiping them off the bottom of my shoe,

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Dirk Diggler

I went on a date tonight with a guy I met through a new dating service. we planned to meet at a little hole in the wall with reputable good food. He raved about their tuna fried steak. I thought that it sounded a bit bizarre, but what the heck. I arrive and he is waiting outside to greet me. A nice hug and a clean smile and I am already thinking, "not too bad"

We sit down to eat at a nice quiet corner table and I can tell this guy is a bit nervous. He has a nice, slender athletic build to him. he has warm brown eyes and a bit of a weathered face-not Kramer in the Marlboro Man episode, but some deeper laugh lines. Aging always looks better on men, those bastards. The more I look at him, the more I realize he looks like someone I have seen before. All of a sudden, it hits me. He looks like Mark Wahlberg and his hair looks like Mark's in Boogie Nights-total seventies porn.

Dinner arrives and I am so excited to dig into tuna fried steak. Upon the first bite, my mouth bursts into flames. It is here that I must explain that I have ulcers (gross, I know), and I CANNOT eat spicy foods. This lovely crusted tuna apparently comes with a jalapeƱo cream sauce. I immediately call the waitress over and order a glass of milk. I am going to get through this, after all, I have a salad and mashed potatoes to eat too. Though, the food gods have played a cruel joke on I.D. The potatoes have fresh jalapeƱos mixed in and the salad has a kicky chipoltle dressing. I am truly dying and expect that sometime later in the evening I will find myself in crippling pain on the cool linoleum floor on my bathroom.

My date apologizes profusely. I explain that there is no need to apologize. I totally ordered on his suggestion, yes, but I didn't think enough to look at the menu or even ask how it was prepared. It was truly my fault, but it wasn't the best start to a date. I suggest that we take off and try a different atmosphere.

From the Iron Springs Cafe, we went to the Raven. there is some cool jazz music playing and I buy us a couple of Deliriums. He wouldn't let me pay for dinner, so I thought it only fair. I am not one of those that expect my date pay for everything. I had a couple of drinks and we laughed and talked. After drink number two and a detailed conversation about his crane vs snake tattoo, I couldn't help but stare at that mop on his head. What was he thinking? I tousle his hair and make some offhand (possibly rude comment) about the lack of style. He then tells me that he just got his hair cut yesterday. I have to think to myself, this man chose to look like this. Wow! I sure know how to pick 'em.

As I am talking to him, I keep sniffing the air. At first, I am not sure if my senses are off or if it is true. After about three whiffs, my suspicions are confirmed. My date has halitosis. If you out there know anything about me, you know bad breath is such a deal breaker; however, I am not above telling someone they need to floss. But maybe I will wait until the second date, if there ever is one.

Later, he takes me back to my car at the Iron Springs Cafe. Outside I get a hug amid the smell of rotting garbage eminating from the dumpsters. Thankfully the beers we had drowned the bad breath germs D.D. had swimming around in his mouth or I may have heaved on the asphalt. As I am rushing to unlock my car and get inside where the smell of "cat butt" air freshener far surpasses the olfactory travesties happening in the night air, he hollers out, "can I call you?" I agree and down the street I roll.

When I get home, I check my messages. I forgot my phone on the coffee table. There are several messages from my girl Inky Pink. I was supposed to meet her at the gym, but I got caught up in conversation. Her messages read:

How's your date?

Heading to the gym in a bit :)

Ok I'm nervous. Where r u? R u ok? I don't know the dude you are on a date with...

Too cute, right. I tell her that I am fine and that I did have fun but my date had stinky breath. She agrees that Halitosis is such a deal breaker.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Dating Services Are Demanding

I belong to three online dating services now. I am not quite sure if this is pathetic or ambitious. Whatever it is, it is more work than fun at times. Everyday I get some email or nudge or interested party. I need an extra hour in the day just to keep up with all the communication and silly question answering. I really am not sure I even want to get into the quality of men that are on these sites; however, I am the indiscriminate dater so I will.

It seems that I mostly attract either hicks, old men (my girl Wildfire would appreciate them), or these young boys-mid twenties young not 19 year old young. There was a time in my life not that long ago that a romp with a 19 year old seemed fun and I even ventured into that arena, but truth be told they are just too eager. I want a lover with a slow hand as the song goes. I digress. These "men" that are attracted to me makes me question myself a bit. The pictures I have up are cute ones of me. I describe myself warmly and accurately. I am pretty specific about the criteria I have for the man I am looking for-early to late thirties, makes $50 T or more a year, preferably no kids, cares about his body and how he presents himself. Even with this I seem to get these welfare case Gomers working at the Chicken Spit that are divorced with live in kids and have apparently eaten their first wife. What gives? Karma have I not been good enough? Do I need to return to my Catholic roots and do some penance for some long lost sin I committed and forgot to confess to Father Higgins?

The irony is that as my name suggests, I should be willing to go out with anyone. To be honest, that is not entirely true. I have to be somewhat choosy. I fear I would tire myself out if I wasn't. There is only so much of I.D. to go around and I am not that much of a masochist to subject myself to the likes of the endless belly button depth wife-beater wearing.

Now, don't you shed a tear for tough, little old me. I have found some rays of hope at the end of this long tunnel. True, it may just be a train barreling down on me, but I am a glass half full kind of gal. I am going on a date tomorrow evening with a young feller I met on such a seemingly hopeless site for the apparent rejects of the dating world. Mind you, I do remember that I am one of the lonely rejected. He seems sweet. I don't know all that much about him other than he is into martial arts, riding motorcycles and cats. I am not sure how that reads. I do think there needs to be something said for a man that chooses cats over dogs.

We are going to a place I have never been before. He tells me the "country fried tuna" is to die for. I am afraid I might die after I eat it, but you only live once, right. I am a little fearful, but I do find it endearing that this man wants to take me to a hole in the wall on our first date. I am thinking either thinks outside the box or hillbilly. Only time will tell. If I am not suffering from severe intestinal trauma, I will be sure to tell you all about the date tomorrow.

Packing Tums,

Thursday, October 1, 2009

A Boy Sent Me A Poem Today

There is this boy that I met a few years ago when I still lived in Bullhead City. He is friends with my friend Detroit. He is skinny, and nerdy and oh so adorable. We like to flirt naughty with each other. I guess I kind of crush on him, but it is safe because he lives on the other side of the country. Tonight, he sent me a poem. Not at random mind you. I asked for one. Below is what he sent...

may i feel said he
by e e cummings

may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she

(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she

(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)

may i stay said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she

may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he
(but you're killing said she

but it's life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she

(tiptop said he
don't stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she

(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you're divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)

Curly is Crazy

On Friday last, I went out with some friends and had a blast. We bar hopped here and there, listened to live music, I made dirty phone calls to a man in dreads, and I ended the night at the bar in which Curly works. Now mind you I haven't really seen or spoken to Curly since he followed my girlfriends and I to the bar on our ladies' night. As his bar was the last we went to, we closed it out laughing as we went out the door. I gave Curly a quick smack on the lips and said goodbye.

Today is Thursday, I haven't given that mop headed mess a second thought since that night, and this is where the story gets interesting.

I am sitting in class today working on some grades as the kids are working on the computers and my phone goes off with a text message. What ensues from that moment can only be described as the mad ramblings of a deranged man as he slowly becomes unhinged over what I can only guess is the realization that we are never going to be.

Curly: Well, I don't seem to find myself available on Fridays for a quick lunch, but can we catch a happy hour.

I.D.: I am heading to Phoenix tomorrow for a tattoo.

Curly: Some other time though? Your recent RARE public display of affection makes me want to chase a little. I can just be your pal though.

I.D.: Oh, I was tipsy and it was just a peck

Curly: So tell me to keep chasing or go away. I thought we clicked. I can't read you.

(Several minutes goes by between that text message and the next one as I am teaching my class and don't have all the time in the world to entertain the needy.)

Curly: it

(I am irritated by this. I don't like text message sarcasm and I cannot stand impatience; however, his behavior makes my little bull of tetchiness rear her ugly head.)

I.D.: I am teaching. I am sorry if I cannot respond immediately. I do work during the day if you recall.

Curly: Then don't respond.

I.D.: Well, you need not get so upset when I don't. I'll eventually get to things. So, in response to your last message, we did click and have fun. It's just that I am only looking for fun. That's really it. Not sex fun, just fun fun. I don't want anything too serious. I felt a little frightened away by you, I guess. I liked you. You were cool, but I am still dealing with me right now. I will not put up with this behavior from you. Thanks for the laughs. I am sure that I will see you around.

Curly: Oh, please, like I have any of that horse shit to offer. Goodbye.

I.D.: Bye.

Curly: Thanks for reminding me why I don't go out.

I.D.: Now, don't be cruel. We said our goodbyes. Go out with grace.

Curly: Grow up!

(I did not respond at this point. I had said all I wanted and needed to. However, several seconds later, my phone goes off again.)

Curly: I guess you are in high school.

That was the last of it, I hope. I have to admit, I am a little unnerved by the 180 this guy pulled during the message exchange. Of course almost immediately I called my girl Inky Pink from across the hall over to tell her about everything. I swear, how my students ever learn anything is beyond me.

Breaking hearts and making monsters,