And I Wrote This Book.

Saturday, June 28, 2014

It's My Birthday! One Dollar, Please!

Dear Friends,
Psst, IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!! But it'll be our secret.
I'm going to be away and completely detached from reality and the virtual world through July 5th. I'll update ya when I return. For now, for my birthday, will you kindly spare $1? (Donations accepted from anywhere in the world. Donations in excess of $1 will not be rejected.) There's a story behind this seemingly silly request, and it's for a very good cause - suicide prevention...the link is here.
Thank you, wonderful peeps.

I'm Chairwoman of Chico's 5th Annual...

Friday, June 27, 2014

Reasons for Celibacy, #308 - 311 / A Beer for the Shower Win Stifles Robyn With Fear and Paranoia


I will be vacationing from the real and virtual world for the next week and am leaving you with a smorgasbord of posts before my departure. Sorry, but the scheduling of posts thingy doesn't work.
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And now, back to more reasons for celibacy:

Reason #308: What happened to the Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction type of women?
I’m right here, sweetie. Come on over for dinner – white wine and boiled bunny.

Reason #309: IM JUST A LAID BACK GUY LOOKIN FOR A GOOD WOMAN, THAT DOESNT HAVE A TATTOO SLEEVE LIKE 50 CENT OR ENJOY GETTIN INTO BAR FIGHTS WIT MEN ON THA WEEKENDS. LOL BELIEVE ME ITS NOT AS EASY AS IT SOUNDS IN 2013.  Yeah, I imagine it’s even tougher this year, honey. Why just last night at the Tackle Box, the 300 pound security guard looked at me sideways. I took that bastard down. It wasn’t pretty for him, but I had a blast. Got some free drinks and loads of dates too. I can’t wait to hit the Crazy Horse this weekend. The only downside is that I’m afraid we’re not a match. Good luck wit your search, sweetie.

Reason #310: are you here
Yes and no. I’m here, not there. Were I there, you’d see me here. Since I’m here, you don’t see me there. Were you to see me there, you wouldn’t be asking. Are you asking? There’s no question mark after here there. So there you have it. Here’s to you!

Reason #311: NOTIFICATION: Any institutions or individuals using this site or any of its associated sites for studies, projects, advertising, sales, or any other reason-you DO NOT have permission to use any of my profile or pictures in any form or forum both current and future. If you have or do, it will be considered a violation of my privacy and will be subject to legal ramifications. Oh, um, oops.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~on a different note:
I'm scared! I won a package of awesomeness from Bryan Pedas and Brandon Meyers, my favorite duo, of ABeerfortheShower. If you know them, you understand my fears. I'm gearing up to open the package...it hasn't yet arrived. I thought I should post this now, for the record. You know, to have witnesses and stuff. [Truthfully, I can't wait. They are so awesome.]

Me and Jack Black

Forgive me while I slam your already disabled dashboard with a variety of posts -- before I leave for a vacation from the real and virtual world. I'll be away from June 29-July 5th. The "schedule posts" function doesn't work. Sorry. And sorry to miss IWSG. This, my history with Jack Black, is sort of (but not really) a replacement for my absence next Wednesday.
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 A few of my longtime blog friends might remember this story; I've recycled it from 2011.

  I grew up gazing at the stars. If you’re from or have ever visited LA, you know that the only stars you see there are famous people and Ryan Seacrest. So it’s not too surprising that Jack Black went to Temple school with me and my siblings. 
   Yep, Jack Black and the Engel kids attended Temple Jeremiah in Westchester (a little suburb of Los Angeles), CA. Sadly, the Temple folded for fiscal reasons years later. Jack Black’s mother attended a Temple Jeremiah Reunion, about ten years ago, along with my dad and his then girlfriend.
   I should backup and state that Jack Black is the man’s real name, not a stage name. I always thought this weird, and I mocked him for it: “Jack Black can eat no fat! Jack Black can eat no fat!” I’d spout off. I was quite proud of this insulting teaser I’d clearly stolen from a nursery rhyme, though my siblings were my only audience. 
  Jack was blonde, small and scrawny (I know, right?), and dressed shabbily. I recall his mom wearing fake furs and heals. I felt sorry for them, as it seemed his family was down on their luck. I knew back then that Jack’s parents divorced. In the 70’s, this was a big deal.
 One day, Jack’s mom failed to pick Jack up on time from Temple school. Jack and my brother, Jonathan, were about 5 years old at the time. I was 7 or 8-ish. Mom kindly offered Jack a ride home. She was generous like that. Jack sat in the middle seat of our red and white striped Rebel station wagon. It was a quiet trip but one I remember vividly. Perhaps I knew I should.
  I sat in the very back of the wagon, with Jack just inches from me in the middle seat. He didn’t say anything except “Thank you” when we got to his humble abode. 
  We were all shy kids. I don’t think I ever spoke to him. In retrospect, of course, I wish I’d proposed marriage.
  Jack really was a warmhearted, quirky and creative kid. Jonathan recalls a day when Jack sneakily meandered the Temple playground, hiding pieces of candy in various spots for other kids to find and enjoy. 
Glenn-David, Jonathan, Robyn, Dawn Engel (circa 1974). Jack Black was in this station wagon, in the middle on the passenger's side. I don't have proof, and my memory is fading, but I promise it's true.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Collage of YOUR Comments: My Merchant Marine Minute Man, Finale?



Dear Friends, I’m closing this chapter with a mix of some of YOUR recent comments and some final text messages between me and Troy. Sorry if you don’t find your comments below, but that’s because they were too reasonable.

Troy: What if I should desire a little more?
Robyn: You know where to find me, babe. xo
L. Diane Wolfe said...Come on - tab A into slot B. Make it happen.
Troy: I like a cute, witty, sexy woman. What to do? Xoxo
Empty Nest Insider said...Do you remember Gene Wilder and the sheep in the Woody Allen movie?
Stephen Hayes said...Swallowing it isn't the problem.
Robyn: Ah, thank you my handsome merchant marine. Wink. xo
Troy: At winery. Thinking about you a bit. It’s all good!! xoxo
IT (aka Ivan Toblog) said...There's nothing wrong with being an alcoholic, unless you drink, too.
Robyn: Let me know if you can squeeze me in, or squeeze into me, before you leave. =) xoxo
Pat Hatt said...damn, hopefully some stamina came due.
Alex J. Cavanaugh said...I really shouldn't read this stuff first thing in the morning...
Jacquelineand....said…You need chocolate. Lots of it.
Troy: Of course, just held hostage by job. Waiting for itinerary. Frustrating!
Elizabeth Seckman said...I just want you to know- I can't even find my underwear because I have yet to unpack from vacation (see, you thought I was going to be naughty!)
Robyn: It’ll come, babe. Anyway, I’m fading. Sweet dreams. xxoo
CWMartin said…Better to sleep with mom's undies than with MOM.
Ruth said...Matt's mom is gonna wonder where all her panties are.
Pat Tillett said... They are full of semen, or is that seamen. Or is it both?
BloggerJo said...Not necessarily so, my father used to sweat after eating a good cheese.
Theresa Mahoney said...I only like hot and spicy in one area of my life.
Optimistic Existentialist said...Was he on a date with the soup??
Troy: I like the way you are.
Robyn: Really dude? Afraid to say the three little words: I like you?! I like you too.
A Beer For The Shower said... The three worst words a guy can ever hear in bed: "Is it in?" The three worst words a girl could ever hear in bed. "I'm not sure."
Yvonne said...I feel your pain. I' ve been in the "where'd it go?" dilemma before.
JoJo said...Bow chica bow bow!!!!!! Just thought I'd add some porno-like music to the story.
*      Jo said...Or a banana JoJo.

Since Troy left, I haven’t heard from him. Clearly, it’s over for now. He won’t return for three more months. Is it over for good? Your guess is probably better than mine. So what do you think?

P.S.
Thank you, Elizabeth Seckman, for the girl-talk, pj parties and Mai Tais with little pink umbrellas.
Finally, thanks to Debra at She WhoSeeks for this graphic:

Monday, June 23, 2014

Me and My Merchant Marine: Is it Over?



Note: This series is written two months after-the-fact. Currently, Troy is somewhere out there on the vast blue-green seas, not due to return until late September at the earliest. Is it over between Robyn and Troy? You be the judge…
 ***********
Fri 4/25/14 
"Thank you for the best two minutes of my life!" Troy jests, the morning after the granny panties debacle.
 She smiles and asks, "When do you leave?"
"I won’t know until right before, but this could be it. Maybe Friday." Troy looks serious.
Shit, Robyn says to herself. Stay calm. "Can I see you one more time before you go?"
Troy takes out his pocket calendar, flips the pages, and they decide on a Wed night rendezvous.

Mon 4/28 Troy tells Robyn that his relatives are coming to town Wed. to surprise him. His Mom told him, knowing that Troy has been spending time with Robyn. Does Troy's Mom know that their time has involved having… a look at Matt’s Mom’s granny panties? She wonders. 
   Troy promises to see Robyn this eve. “Matt’s having a big shindig at the condo. Some of them might spend the night. It’s not going to work at my place.” Robyn tells Troy they will have to be quiet at her place, because she has roommates. "You can't be your loud and naughty self," he teases. "Oh, another thing, I can't stay the night. I have too much to take care of tomorrow morning." 
   Disappointments piled on, Robyn shakes it off, because she wants a few more minutes. And he's handsome. And she wants a few more minutes, but we already mentioned that.
   Troy arrives. He wants to go for drinks. He always does. They’re different that way. Robyn agrees, since it increases her odds of getting a few more minutes in. And by “in,” she means that literally.

At Park Avenue Pub, a dive bar half a mile from Robyn's:
   "Since this is my last chance before you leave, tell me that story again about when you jumped ship and survived. I have to write about it." 
   “That’s so lame,” he scoffs. “Alright, but if you’re going to write about it, you have to get it right.” Troy proceeds to expel details. A wide eyed, enthusiastic Robyn scribbles notes on the backs of business cards that she pulls out of her purse. Her scribblings include: “For $100, totally hammered, he jumped ship, anchored in Caribb. Alarm soundd ‘Man overboard!’ Strong winds pushd him 2 anchor chain. Lucky bastard! Climbed chain ladder, 2 lower levels, 2 room waist high in grease, ran thru ship tracking grease, took rm key outta pocket & tossed clothes in trash, ran naked in circles so they wouldnt trail him. Found rm. Showered, dressed in tux 4 job as waiter on ship, Captain’s men knocked on door. ‘Are you Troy Alvarado?’ He said ‘yes.’ ‘Did you just jump overbrd?’ ‘No, I dont kno what youre talking abt. I was showering 4 work.’ They believd him & left. Capt called 4 him days later. Asked how he did it. Capt said, ‘For the pure audacity, u can keep job. Don’t let it happen again.”
  
Sex scene: Hey, where's the sex? You blinked in the last four minutes, didn't you? Sorry you missed it! She almost did too, if it's any consolation.
  Robyn and Troy lay in her bed, comforter pulled up to hide nakedness from viewers. She rests her head on his chest, as he strokes her back.
  "I'd say that was a good four minutes," Troy remarks.
  "I was thinking the same. Yeah, twice as good as last time." She lifts her head and smiles at him. Troy reciprocates.
   "I'll double the staying power every time."
   "Promises, promises," Robyn chides. There's a pause before she says, "I'll miss you."
   "I'll miss you too."

Stay tuned for one more segment, the "goodbye." Is it over??

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Suck it up! A Poem

I guess the gist of this one is: Suck it up, people!
I can't decide if my poetry has progressed or regressed, but my handwriting is a lot worse than it was when I was 9.

PS Coming soon: a few more scenes from My Merchant Marine.

Have a great weekend, all.

Monday, June 16, 2014

Me and My Merchant Marine: Granny Panties Under the Covers


Build up to Granny Panties Scene: Troy stresses interest in Robyn's poetry. With her poetry book and an overnight bag in hand –because, um, you never know when you might get stranded overnight- Robyn gets lost trying to find Troy's condo. An impatient Troy calls her. “For a smart lady, you’re directionally challenged.” Robyn argues that she’s in the right spot; they must've mis-numbered the building.
   Alas, Troy and Robyn unite with a hug and quick kiss.
   Troy suggests dinner and agrees to Sipho’s, Robyn’s favorite, for Jamaican food. He picks up tab and impresses with his usual charm.
   Back at Troy's two-bedroom condo, which he shares with roommate Matt, and which Matt conveniently vacated to attend concert, Troy offers a drink."I’ll take a fruity, girlie one.” Troy hands her a pinkish drink, and mixes a gin and tonic for himself. They sit on cozy loveseat to peruse Robyn's book. 
   "Very nice. I want you to sign it, since you're gonna be famous some day." 
   Robyn writes: "Thank you for being interested in my poetry (and me). =) xo." 
   Kissing starts. Arms get wrapped around each other, breathing deepens. 
   Movement to bedroom ensues. 




 
Granny Panties Scene:
As they stand by bed and kiss, Troy breaks away. "I haven't showered today... I'll be quick...Make yourself at home."
   While Troy showers, Robyn changes into blue silk nightie. Receives text from womanizer friend, James: “Whatz up?” She writes: “On date. He's washing up.” James texts back: “Washing up? Then u can do me first.” She's flattered and flustered. Celibate for approximately twelve years, and now two prospective insertions tonight?! “Chill out, dude. Talk L8r,” she writes.
   As Robyn shuts off her phone, Troy walks out, towel around waist. “Talking to your boyfriend?”
   “Just a friend.” Robyn inches closer to Troy, who begins to adjust his plush pillows.
   “Would you look at this!” Troy exclaims, reaching under a pillow. Troy pulls out a pair of very, very wide white cotton granny panties.
  Robyn's head spins from the girlie drink and night's excitement. She fails to fully register the fact that the panties are fit for an elephant, not at all sexy. Another woman? A fairly wide one? Half confident, half perplexed, she asks casually, “Whose are those?”
   Troy shakes his head in disapproval. “Matt did it. We pull pranks on each other.”
   Two grown men acting like silly jokesters. Robyn loves it! “That’s pretty good,” she guffaws.
   Troy walks out with the panties and places one of its very, very big holes around Matt's door knob. 
   Robyn quickly finds herself on Troy's bed with him. They start making-out again and uncover another pair of granny panties, this one under the comforter. Giggles. Then another under the pillows. Joke gets old.
   Panties are tossed onto the camera lens. Audience can't view the rest...Kissing, touching, bodies get twisted and etc. Will it happen? Will there be an insertion? She prays, silently. I deserve it. It’s been so long. I'm a nice lady. I do good. And then – YES!! IT HAPPENS!! It’s in! Halleluj- Wait! Where’d it go? Was that it? Oh well, it happened. Right? Yeah, she's pretty sure. And she's happy.
...
   Robyn luxuriates in awaking with Troy’s arms around her, despite the phonecall that rattles them. 2:30am. Troy takes call. Raucous male laughter blasts their eardrums. “Matt. You prick!” Laughter again. “...She asked whose they were. So whose are they?...No way! Your Mom’s?...Alright. Goodnight, bastard.”