The Big Ugly Blog is an honest and uncensored collection of anecdotes recounting the madcap shenanigans of a perpetually 39 year old divorcee, as she wades through the mire of the murky online dating pool - ravenously searching (evidently in vain) for the man of her dreams...Keep On Dreaming, Baby!


Saturday, December 26, 2009


By the Sunday after Christmas, the novelty of my unexpected pre-New Year's "cleanse" had definitely worn off and I was hankerin' to put men back on the menu, and in order to do that - I knew that I had to be proactive...lord knows no one else was gonna do my scouting for me. So I shopped around a bit on my favorite dating sites and before long, my keen "new boy" radar honed in on an unfamiliar heavenly body. The target on my screen was tall, built, handsome, ex-military, divorced, had sole custody of his only child, was gainfully employed and lived close by...but I was afraid that maybe he'd think that we were too far apart in age. So, I wrote to him and in the subject line I put, "I may be too old for you..." and then continued my note to him with, "but you seem like an interesting and active guy, so I couldn't resist at least saying, "Hi""

The next morning, I received a nice message that he'd sent after I'd already tucked it in the night before - which he opened with, "Age is in the heart"...I took that to mean that he had no problem with the fact that I am 7 years his senior. So before leaving for work, I wrote back and invited him to go snowboarding with my friends and me, that upcoming Wednesday.

After returning home from work I was delighted to discover that I had more mail from him even though he had declined my invitation to go snowboarding since he had a friend arriving on Wednesday for a week long visit. But after a couple more emails, I learned that he WAS free THAT very night - Monday - and, never one to miss out on a promising opportunity, I asked him if he would be up for meeting me in town for a drink later...and he said that he was. Yip!

We exchanged cell #'s, I hopped in the shower, got all gussied up and left to go meet him at the pool hall up the road from where I live. As I pulled my big boat into the parking lot, I recognized the tall, strapping man walking past my car - as the "heavenly body" I'd seen on the dating site. I pointed at him and smiled and he about-faced in order to meet me at my car so that we could walk inside together...I could tell right away that I liked him already...

We ordered our drinks and instead of cramming ourselves into the limited space amid all the pool tables and other people, we set up shop in a cozy nook away from everyone else, kicked back in two easy chairs and shot the shit...'twas rawther nice.

It was terribly easy to like the guy...he was engaging and open and he had the greatest face imaginable - his Dutch and Italian lineage producing big bluey eyes and long, dark lashes, matte, oxblood lips and a gloriously angular nose - my favorite! And that body, jesus! I caught myself lost in thought a few times, imagining what it would be like to have my body totally enveloped by his...*sigh*

We got along famously and I was already looking forward to going out with him another time very soon, but after only one drink, he jumped ahead a little when he suggested that we save our pennies by playing pool and mixing our next drinks...back at his place......uh oh...oh boy...

Now, here's the thing...I was completely conscious of what this meant and even though I understood that following him to his house right then would most likely mean a dreaded hook-up on the first date which could easily eliminate any chance of ever seeing him again...I am a terribly impulsive lass, a legal consenting adult and was way overdue for a gratifying romp in the hay* I was completely down with it. It's like with me there is literally no middle ground, I am either hot or or stop...FUCK YEAH! or HELL NO!... and whenever I meet a new guy, I know straight off the bat if I'd do him or not, and if I'm certain that I would, well then, quite frequently - I do...I'm sorry...I'm weak that way...what can I say...

*My most recent "romantic" foray had been just a couple of weeks before, with the Mystery Man and yes...we did have a nice time together and yes...I was as attracted to him as ever and yes...we did (try to) get cozy in the sack, but no...we did not seal the deal which I must say, was not for MY lack of trying, sheesh! In all fairness to the Mystery Man, the deficiency in his prowess that night could've been due to the fact that he did down the better part of my bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin over the course of the evening...nonetheless - snockered or not - it is undeniably damaging to a girl's self-esteem, when the guy with whom she's tryin' to get busy, can't for love or money...manage to get it up. I can tell myself that the Mystery Man was soused or suffering performance anxiety or that he has some physiological problem that the wonders of modern medicine could easily straighten out, but at the time I just took it personally and convinced myself that my relatively fit, naked body, all ripe for the pickin' - just wasn't doing it for him...(dagger!) So what happened not-so-gratifying tangle with the Mystery Man left me dangling and I found myself even more starved than usual for a fulfilling interlude with a real live man...NOT myself...OR my stupid toy...again...

It didn't help matters any, that a particular comment that an acquaintance posted on an older blog entry, has remained stuck in the back of my feeble brain...a comment on which lately I've kind of relied, in order to justify my oftentimes impetuous behavior. After reading an entry about yet another example of my poor snap-decision-making, the old friend asked, "Am I the only person who begins long-term relationships with sex on the first date?" Hmmmm......Now there was something about this, that in essence - I felt kinda gave me license to go on ahead and test the waters with men to whom I felt a strong gravitational pull...because there was always that shred of a chance that the two of us could end up going the know, like beyond just that first encounter.

So, that bitterly cold Monday night, I left the pool hall and willingly followed my date way the hell on over to the other side of town and then further still out into the country 'til we finally ended up at his house, where I found myself startled by how tidy he was as well as impressed by his tasteful and restrained choice of decor. And it didn't hurt that I immediately bonded with his two adorable doggies! The guy seriously had it going on.

He mixed me a yummy drink in the most elegant, turquoise blue cocktail glass (I mean, c'mon! Was I seriously coveting his glassware?! Ridiculous...) after which we traipsed downstairs to the basement to get that pesky game of pool outta the way.

My lifelong curse of sucking at pool continued as did the conversation, and I learned that he had only just signed up on the dating site where I'd found him, the actual day that I first contacted him (I told you! That "new boy" radar of mine is GOOD!) and he told me that he had already blocked like 6 girls. For real?! I've been online dating for over a year and a half now and I've only blocked a total of like 3 guys on all of my sites, ever! I actually felt somewhat honored that he'd kept me around as long as he already had, hahaha! Anyway, once he'd handed me my ass in our mandatory game of pool, he asked if I wanted to go get in the hot tub and I said that I did, despite (and also because of) the fact that it was 12 degrees with a wind chill of something like a million below...We stood there together in his mud room, stripped down to our skivvies and he gave me a big cushy robe to wear in between the house and the hot tub. Once outside in that damned frigid night air, we wasted no time getting our nakey bodies submerged in the 101 degree water and this my friends, is where things turned from proper and polite to a jiff. As soon as we started canoodling, I felt that electrical pull between my middle and his, which I always freaking LOVE! And before long I was introduced to his namesake here in the blog...the Babyarm...

Don't worry, not gonna bore you with all the gory details of the rest of our time in the hot tub through when I actually got my wish to have my body ensconced in his - during our post coitus, snuggly slumber...what I will tell you is that poor judgement or not, going home with Babyarm was for me - precisely what the doctor ordered. (Honestly, it kinda felt like maybe I should go SEE a doctor, afterwards. Fuck me! What glorious good fortune when all afternoon at work the next day my boss had me straddling the ceiling rafters in the attic, after he got the wild hare to have me install 6 recessed can lights......for the love of PETE!) Nevertheless, my tangle with Babyarm was the perfect antidote to my disappointing physical flop with the Mystery Man on many levels...I would even venture to say that the two "dates" were veritable polar opposites.

To start with, the very demeanors of the two men could not have been more dissimilar...Babyarm's ebullience was to the Mystery Man's forbearance like an effervescent waterfall is to a frozen lake...

Aaaand...unlike the Mystery Man, Babyarm wanted "it" as badly as (possibly more than?) I did, which absolutely boosted my ego as well as my libido. And his aggressive domination was well-received by this inherently submissive, rapturously captive audience. I liked that Babyarm was not the least bit shy about his body and stuff cuz that's the way that I am. I like being naked and I want the lights on so that I can see everything as it's happening...and I shrivel when my immodesty is met with overt inhibition...example: I'm the type of person who doesn't think it strange for folks to use the potty in front of each other after they've had seckshal relashuns. I'm not talking about taking a full-on crap in front of them or anything like that, but tinkle is cool...I mean what's the freaking difference at that point, you know? Babyarm was completely good with that, it just wasn't an issue at all...but the Mystery Man acted all awkward and shy in the morning and instead of using the loo right off of my bedroom, he went out and used the hall toilet...which then made me feel somewhat self-conscious...I dunno - it just felt weird.

So let's bout this...

Babyarm = brash

Mystery Man = bashful

Of course there was also the obvious size/readiness discrepancy...and it's probably not even fair to compare the two fella's anatomies...I mean Mystery Man was clearly not on his game and freaking Babyarm was living up to his name! (Felt like my guts had been totally rearranged or shifted or something...for DAYS afterwards...Mother of God! He definitely found those hard-to-reach spots...)

Babyarm = a baby's arm

Mystery Man = a baby's thumb?

Something else that made my playdate with Babyarm extra specially enjoyable (and unusual for most all of my other sleepovers with men - I'm not only singling out the Mystery Man here) was how courteous and considerate he was to me the whole time that we hung out. He was just the absolute most gracious host ever. I have never had a guy bring me a warm, wet wash cloth and a dry towel after sex...I dunno, I just thought it was so sweet and thoughtful. We stayed wrapped around each other all night long, which is something that I personally crave and for whatever reason, I rarely end up with guys who can handle being touched much at all while they sleep. I happen to NEED that! I want to be completely intertwined with my lover til we rise in the morn and Babyarm was either very tolerant of this or he actually liked it himself...Oh yeah! And in the morning he made me coffee and a tasty, no-carb brekky...such a good man!

Babyarm = chivalrous

Mystery Man = chilly

Anyway so, long story short...I was tickled pink to have enjoyed such frisky frolicking with Babyarm. I was left feeling sexually sated and super excited that the swiftly approaching new year might actually be looking up, especially if I could score a sophomore session with Babyarm sometime in the not so distant future...I liked 'im and I definitely wanted to see 'im again, and that is so not like me.

That being said...a few nights later when I was contacted by a way too young, local hottie over whom I've drooled for the short period of time that I've known him - I jumped at the chance to finally sit down and chat with him, just the two of us, out from behind our computer screens, over drinks. We'd been threatening to get together since we met at Halloween, but nothing had ever panned out until that Wednesday night that I was supposed to go snowboarding. Since all of my buddies and I had lost our motivation entirely - to make the trek to the ski resort that night, I considered it divine intervention that I was actually available to meet the Young Hottie, after he suggested it that night.

The Young Hottie is practically half my age, he is exquisitely gorgeous, like I'm serious you honestly have no idea (Willow and my pixie friend Beth would totally back me up on this one) but besides that - he is a brilliant, accomplished musician and of a higher level of thinking than most guys his age...most guys my age, for that matter...I am severely intimidated by his intellect...I was actually more nervous about sounding like a complete idiot while trying to hold up my end of the evening's discussion, than being overshadowed by his otherworldly physical perfection, which was a given...

T.Y.H and I met at one of my favorite local bars and as soon as I got settled into my seat and got all situated, I drank in exactly how delectable he is...I couldn't help but think though, "This isn't for me" I mean the guy is definitely too young first off, and second, he can do so much better than l'il ole me - in the looks and the age department. But whatever, we were there for the night, the liquor was flowing and we were enjoying thought-provoking dialog over a myriad of enlightening topics. It was immensely entertaining, so much so that when my phone rang and I saw that it was Babyarm, I simply ignored the call...I mean it would've been rude to pick up while I was out with someone else anyway, yes? But I could've at least snuck a text to him or something when I went to the ladies room, you know? But I didn't. All of my attention was undivided that night, by T.Y.H....I was a little shocked that my initial excitement over Babyarm could be so easily displaced, and over something which had absolutely no potential for longevity. Stupid girl...

At last call, T.Y.H. and I left the bar and I offered to give him a ride back to his (parents'!) place since he'd walked downtown to meet me and by then it was beyond brutally cold out. Oh, did I forgot to mention the other little snag?...uhhh...well...I know T.Y.H.'s mom...pretty well it was a bit unsettling to be in my idling car out in the cul de sac in front of his house, necking and worrying that his mom might peep out the window and recognize my vehicle...T.Y.H. and I said goodnight, and all excited like - vowed to get together again soon.

The next night was New Year's Eve and Willow and I had plans to go into D.C. to ring in the new year at a killer new club there. She was meeting M.C. Ginger and I was hitting the town, stag. I was kinda bummin' that I wouldn't have anyone to stroke at the kiss of midnight...or whatever...but I wasn't too worked up over it, I had enjoyed a pretty prosperous week already, so no real room for whining and complaining. Plus, I was still officially single...I mean who knew what might happen that night...

Before we left to go out, I got a text from Babyarm, asking me what I was doing. I told him that I was in D.C. with friends and that we were about to hit the town, and that was it - I didn't hear back from him after that, not even when I texted him after midnight to wish him a "Happy New Year!" Oh well, it was fine, because sometime shortly before midnight, I was turning to walk away from the the bar and head back over to the dance floor, fresh cocktail in hand, when at the same moment the man standing next to me, also turned (towards me) to leave and it was one of those, "BOI-OI-OING!" moments, when two people get the exact same intense feeling about each other at precisely the same was crazy...and I liked it!

The Russian (far as I know the guy wasn't even Russian, but for some reason he just seemed Russian to me cuz his name sounded Slavic and was literally unpronounceable, hence the nickname) had riveting, electric blue eyes, close-shorn salt and pepper grey hair, a tall athletic frame and was - I quickly learned - a dentist from Atlanta...well shoot! No matter, we latched onto each other from that serendipitous second at the bar that our eyes met and locked, right up until we left the club to compete for the taxis that would carry us away from each other, presumably - forever...

Even though we feigned cheerful optimism that this could be the beginning of something cool, we both knew deep down that it was pointless for us to even be talking to each other, even stupider still to be getting all cozy together up in the banquette over where he and his friends had reserved a private corner of the room. It was fun though, to entertain the idea of him flying me down to Atlanta to come visit him sometime and it was REALLY fun to have a handsome someone to kiss at the stroke of midnight. It all felt oddly romantic and genuine per the high probability that we would never actually meet or even speak to each other again. I have my good friend Absolut to thank for my lapse in grasping reality...but so what, right? The whole night was an Absolut blast and I just loved every last minute of the old year and each fresh new minute of this year...

The next day ranked high on the list of worst hangovers ever...I literally could not rally my crippled ass to get up and head back home...til like nearly noon or some shit. I knew I would have to rely on a hardcore junk food fix to even begin to feel better...

No more than twice a year, after getting my serious drunk on, I thumb my nose at my low carb diet and go out and order a triple Whopper with cheese, fries, a real coke and a chocolate milkshake from Burger King...after which - miraculously - I am able to slowly rise from the dead and function a touch. New Year's Day was one of those Burger King kinda much for starting the year off right...ugh...

Once I was back home again, and the medicinal effects of my fast food feast finally kicked in, I recharged my battery in quiet solitude and assessed my current situation.

I accepted that the Russian was a fly-by-night, fleeting fancy...end of story.

I then decided that the Young Hottie was most likely toying with me, perhaps merely basking in the pride-swell brought about by my obvious fascination with him. Or possibly slightly intrigued by the notion of hooking up with a moderately attractive, reasonably intelligent older woman who unapologetically fawned all over him, but clearly not wholeheartedly interested in going through with it...which I decided was probably a blessing in disguise.

And finally my mind drifted back to thoughts of Babyarm. I worried that I might have come across as too blase and had maybe unwittingly run him off. Which would've been too bad really, because for the first time in ages I had actually found a man who not only captured my attention, but wasn't of a totally inappropriate age and maturity level. I tried to find one eensy thing about him that rubbed me the wrong way, and I really just couldn't.

I was relieved and ecstatic when Babyarm called me later that evening and invited me to come hang out with him and his out of town guest! I collected my bedraggled ass, did my best to not look like death warmed over and headed over to his place.

The three of us watched a little TV, then relaxed in the hot tub and after bidding his friend goodnight, Babyarm and I retired to his chambre.

I am a fairly loud person, in general. I laugh (loudly) a lot and talk (loudly) a lot...but in the bedroom, I am uncharacteristically quiet. Not reserved physically by any means, just not a particularly noisy lover. Obviously Babyarm and I wanted to do our best to keep the volume at a low enough level so as not to disturb his friend who was sleeping in the adjacent room and I was a little concerned that this could be a bit of a challenge since he had brought out a surprisingly more vocal side of me when I was with him the time before, but I must say...I could not have predicted how shocked I would be - to hear myself shout out so uncontrollably during our lovemaking. I literally could not suppress the audible outbursts resultant from his powerful manhandling of my body...unfreakingbelievable...wooo!

Babyarm and I joined his friend downstairs in the kitchen in the morning, and after sheepishly apologizing for all the racket during the night, we all sat down together and greeted the new day over another outstanding breakfast...Homemade lemon poppy seed morning cake for the men (my contribution) and for all of us - a delicious egg scramble with cheese, venison/crabmeat sausage, Old Bay and plenty of hot sauce....mmmmmm...After which I nestled briefly into Babyarm's bear-hug embrace, and then went on my merry way back home - belly full, mind abuzz, heart swelling...

1 comment:

  1. Glad my comments are enabling somebody to get some!