"Your Pu**y is What I Want to Eat"

I am really lonely for my kids, this weekend which woefully began a few days earlier than it normally does since I suddenly have no job to speak of, anymore. I miss them even more than usual, and I'm not sure what the deal is. I shuffle aimlessly around this empty place, and every once in awhile, I catch myself inexplicably blurting out some random, irrelevant comment. For a split second I'm like, "Oh my God, who was that?" frightened to then realize that it was me and that I had no control over the fact that those words left my mouth and that they reached no apparent audience, other than myself and my dogs...and their English is only so-so. It's making me feel marginally insane, seriously. I'm a little scared. My stomach hurts and I'm teary. I tried positioning myself here in front of my trusty, ole Mac hoping that I could skitter around online and unearth some new treasure which might cheer me up, but try as it might, even my devoted computer can't seem to provide respite from this debilitating funk. The more I try to manipulate my fate, the more isolated I feel. The longer I sit here, flitting from site to site, and back around the sequence again and again and again...the less happens. It's brutally monotonous, I feel as if I'm spinning my wheels. I guess I'll go mow my yard for 5 more hours...

Well, after zoning out on the mower for a veritable coon's age, I was no better for the time away from my computer. I was powerless to extinguish a reemerging preoccupation, I simply couldn't, (haven't been able to for a while, now) get a certain someone out of my mind and believe me, this did absolutely nothing to lift my spirits. I spent the majority of my 5 hours of yard work irrationally pining for my old favorite - Mark. For whatever reason, he remains my only indelible, unrequited crush. I've had no difficulty scratching every last one of all the others completely off the list. I compare past and current guys to him and they just don't cut the mustard...There is no one else upon whom I am nearly as fixated. I hate to even admit that I still think about him because after things between us tanked he turned into such a dick. I need to remind myself that here was a man, living with a woman, fooling around with a single girl, online, and when the single girl, who lived 300 miles away, did the natural thing and dated other guys, he got preposterously incensed. In hindsight, I find his anger and resentment utterly inappropriate, per the situation. No doubt at the time though, it was a bitter pill. Regardless, these days I do the best I can to stave off my jealousy towards the new girls with whom I'm sure he romps, in my stead. I see him on IM all the time and for long periods of time. I am literally sitting there, pretending like I have something interesting going on, hoping that he thinks so too (if he even notices) when in reality I am bored to tears and completely alone. It's all I can do to NOT send him a message. I simply couldn't bear the inevitable agonizing humiliation of being ignored by him, certain that he would blow me off because a.) he detests me and b.) he couldn't be disturbed since he's most definitely in the middle of some erotic collaboration with a new twist. I miss our torrid romance, I miss the danger element and the sparks that flew. I miss the electric excitement I experienced when he rang, and the butterflies and giddiness resultant from our trysts. My cell phone was too full to receive new texts, the other day, so I was going through it and deleting all the superfluous crap, and I still had like 40 or 50 texts from Mark, which I had never erased. I got so fucking misty poring over them all again for the first time in ages, I couldn't stand it! My favorite was a text he sent me one night, I think while he was out drinking with friends. He said, "U love me?" I remember being dumbfounded and positively elated that he would even ask me such a thing and weirder yet, was the fact that I seriously felt like I truly did...I cautiously answered with, "How did you know?" and he closed the convo. by saying, "I'm smart...glad you do" I was unquestionably smitten.


Feeling prostrate about the grim memory of my failed romance with Mark and determined to relieve my loneliness-induced melancholia, I decided to pick myself up and put myself out there this weekend and diligently worked my tail off to make something happen. I immediately responded to an e-mail I got early Fri. morning, from Cary, who lived close by and by Fri. night we had discussed the possibility of finding each other downtown at a new brew pub. Frances and I were both without kids, so we were hot to trot and did in fact, wind up crossing paths with Cary and one of his friends. They turned out to be supremely fun guys who took excellent care of both Frances and me at the two clubs where we played but even though Cary was a super nice fella, he was not my physical ideal. I know...I'm way too picky. But I have been racking my brain to try and think of someone to set him up with 'cuz he's way too good of a catch to not share with some deserving gal, unfortunately though - she's just not me. Then, right at last call I was approached by a tall, dark (in the sinister sense of the word) gorgeous hunk of a man who greeted me with a surprise kiss on the mouth, (oh my!) and next by telling me that he was prepared to eat my pussy for the next 4 hours. Wait, didn't the last guy who offered to do that say he'd do it for 5 hours? I'm sorry, but 4 hours is simply not good enough! (But in all honesty...if it actually did take 4 or 5 hours...wouldn't something be drastically wrong?) The bummer is, initially I was intrigued by the hunk's enigmatic aura and was nervously excited when he entered my sphere, and then he had to go and ruin the whole thing by saying...THAT! Get this, though (jumping ahead a bit) - on Sunday night I got an e-mail from a new guy who also could not stop talking about eating my pu**y, as he put it. He must've sent me 15 notes mere seconds apart, declaring "Your pu**y is what I want to eat", "Your pu**y is what I want to eat" over and over again, you guessed it- "for 4 hours"! What in the world is wrong with these people? Jeez frickin' Louisus!@#*$

Sunday was dominated, once again, by yardwork. But just about everytime I made a pass by my studio, I would jump off the mower and skip inside to check my computer for new messages, which I was enjoying from one dude in particular. Wouldn't you know, he lived only 15 mins. away, convenient, but not necessarily a good thing if there wound up to be an "in the long run". We flirted mercilessly with each other, on and off all day long and finally that night he invited me to get a drink with him...over at his house. Hmmm...I informed him, as if there was any possible way he could not know this, that meeting a guy at his house for the first date, would be breaking the #1 stranger danger rule of online dating, duh. But we were both too poor to go out as well as a little weary from cumulative partying side effects from a bacchanalia-esque weekend, so like a dunce, I agreed to meet him at his house. I guess it's entirely possible that I was subconsciously looking for trouble, something to spice up this tedium. I still haven't confessed any of this to Frances, she would massacre me! I did leave all of the info I had about him, on a little slip of paper by my computer, in case the authorities needed to initiate a manhunt...

I got to his apartment which was sparsely furnished and that's a good thing. I prefer when men living alone don't have a bunch of knicky knacky crap everywhere, like useless baskets stuck to the wall and fake greenery all over the place, barf! But basically all he had the energy to do was sit and stare at the TV....boring! It was painfully reminiscent of many dull, wasted hours with Jimmy. Uhhh, we didn't even really talk. Once South Park was over, I announced that I thought I'd better get and only then did he become interactive, at all, which was - far as I was concerned - too little, too late. So I split without incident and even though there was something endearingly cute about his New Yawk personality and tough guy looks, I figured if this was the best he could offer, the very first time we that met, it could only go downhill from there, so...no thanks.

When I woke up the next morning, I realized that it was now time to focus on that evening's date with Steve (you remember, one of the Big Three, the one that Jordan likes) which we'd planned a few days earlier. Steve and I met online, just one week after he joined one of my favorite dating sites. He had put me on his Favorite's list but hadn't contacted me. I rarely get in touch with guys, simply because they put me on their Favorite's in fact most times I remove myself from their Faves, but Steve was attractive, I liked the photo he posted of himself wearing a white tee and shades while manning a "crash boat". I wrote to him and said, "So, you put me on your Favorite's list but you don't even say "Hi", tsk, tsk" He got back in touch with me fairly quickly, coyly apologized and for the last three weeks we have communicated intermittently through e-mail and over the phone. He is 10 years older than I am and even though I like that he seems hip, cool and open-minded, I am particularly drawn to his mature calm and confident reserve. All this aside, it was no effort for me to keep my emotions in check, since nothing really moves me anymore.

Hey, know what? I just realized that I made it through, what had all the earmarkings of a potentially desolate weekend, and I was no worse for the wear. I'd had a little fun, my yard looked great, I had gotten to talk to my kids, I was looking forward to a date with a nice guy...Shee-ot! I might actually be just fine without Mark, after all...