Reasons for Celibacy, #29-33

Hi, Dear Sillies,
   First, I want to point you to Joanne's blog - in case you're not one of her groupies. I'm being selfish. Joanne gave Trumpeter a wonderful spotlight. She's also just an all-out awesome blogger, author, woman, and e-friend. You should follow her blog and buy my book. If you haven't already. 
   Now, it's time to present more reasons for celibacy. As usual, these are lifted from internet dating ads and mixed with my italicized snark.
   Be well, my friends, and laugh.

   Love you.
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REASON #29: Argue like an italian. Well, okay. Your Mama's cannoli is the ugliest I've ever seen! What man would want a piece of that?

REASON #30: Me likey the noir. Me no likey your noir.

REASON #31: Looking for a woman who gots my back I gots to guess you gots one of those hairy backs. I gots no interest.

REASON #32: I shall endevour to be as neutral and accurate as possible while maintaining a     "Positive Spin" in a P.T. Barnum kinda way. That sentence was extremely painful, in a freak show PT Barnum kind of way. Lived in a Norman Rockwell painting for several years with no parental supervision. I suppose if I lived in a painting, I’d make sure my parents weren’t watching me either. I am searching for the woman of my dreams. ( Note the use of the singular subject of the sentence.) (Once again, please note the use of the singular noun.) Sweetheart, I suggest you get used to the singular thing.

REASON #33: Need someone to fetch me beers! I have a suggestion, love bug. It goes like this: Go to the nearest kennel, ask for an empty cage, and stay in it. 

On Me, Men, and Meshugenah

Hi, Dear Sillies,

How are you? Please say, and say honestly, that you're doing fine.

Life is meshugenah. This means "crazy" in a fun, Yiddish sort of way.

A lot of excitement has ensued in the aftermath of my breakup with Dude Three last Fall. No worries if you don't remember the story. I'll catch ya up. And because I don't have a real photo of them, I borrowed this resemblance from google images.

Here's the cast of characters:

Dude Three - latest boyfriend. Our relationship lasted approximately 7 weeks. I know. It's almost a new record for me. But when he proved himself an angry, mentally unstable man, I called quits.

Skank - A neighbor and a friend, initially. Note that I don't judge women who sleep around. I envy them. But this one gets the nickname Skank because she made moves on Dude Three while pretending nothing was going on, when I spoke with her about the breakup. She then announced her new love for him on FB with a photo of them holding hands. Next, weeks later, he moved in with her. Down the street from me. Note 2: We're all in our fifties. Note 3: This story falls under the genre of nonfiction.

Me - sexually repressed, not-wanting-to-settle-but-routinely-and-naively-settling me. Yet I typically come back to the realization that my life is much better alone. With batteries.

   Months had passed since I learned of their coupledom. I grew tired of, but used to, seeing Dude Three's car every day and night. None of us spoke, though we saw each other regularly.
   Skank would continue to park her car next to mine, in a space that isn't hers. (It's another neighbor, Geezer's. More on him later.)  But I remained mature and well behaved. You all helped me with that. ("Be tall, Robyn." You advised. I thus stood as erect as my 4 foot 8 inch stature allowed.)  Oh, besides the one time I shouted "Skank!" as she walked by my front window. (Damn Tourette's.)
   One morning earlier this summer, I stepped out to put a few items in my car. Skank was by the mailboxes, a yard or so away. She'd purposely been parking extra close to my car, making it difficult to open my car door. I decided enough time had passed, I'd be mature.
   "Would you please not park so close to my car?" I asked, in a polite and calm tone.
   Things got ugly fast.
   Skank dashed to the carport to show me that she'd not crossed an imaginary halfway mark. "Look! This is halfway! See this line! I'm not over the line! Geezer lets me park here! I'm not in your sp--"
   I opened my car door to demonstrate my lack of space. "I can't even open this without hitting--''. My door hit her car, proving my argument.

   Skank's eyes widened. She grabbed her front door handle, opened and then slammed the door viciously against my car. Then again!
   Shocked and angered, my adrenaline soared.
   Skank had left a visible long vertical streak of paint on my car...to be continued. 

Hint: It gets worse.  

Dude Three, The Beginning of the End but Not Really

   Things were blissfully happy with Dude Three but yeah, I’m naïve. Plus I ignore(d) the red flags. And I need to sharpen my radar. Then again, I'm not sure I have one. I should get one, I suppose. 

   Point is, I believed his lies. He’d told me he’d only been with three women. That endeared me.  

   But weeks into our passionate courtship, Three boasted about having recently learned that he’d slept with so-and-so years ago, and she's the daughter of so-and-so. Yeah, he was proud.

   "Wait, you told me you’d only been with three women?"

   “That’s three women since Judy*” he responded. *Judy is his first of two ex-wives. Hm, so, how does marriage negate all of one’s sexual history? Is that new math? Does this mean that people who never marry are virgins, regardless of how many sexual partners they had? Oy. I believed there were only three before me; seems there were approximately 103.  

   Also, when we met, he boasted about his “great kids.” I liked him for that too - a proud dad who did right by his kids, it seemed. In time, though, I realized he’d written his daughter out of his life, and without valid reason. This was bothering me. His rage towards her didn't sit right. I needed to talk to him about it.    

    “Does your daughter get along with your son?” I broached the subject, during dinner on Halloween night.

   “I guess. Why do you ask? I’ve been thinking about her all day. I don’t want to talk about it.” He got tearful, and I took his hand from across the table. “No, don't go there!” I’d never heard him sound so angry or angry at all. “You’re not a parent. You have no right to give me advice! You don’t know—”

   “I’m not trying to give—” I let go of his hand.

   “What, you’re a therapist, so you have to ask questions? You have no idea. She’s dead to me. You have no idea what I went through for her. And I’ve been thinking about her all day. This is going to be my first holiday season without her. It’s tearing me up.”

   I slowly, quietly, took my dishes into the kitchen.

   He followed me. “Where is this coming from? We were having a great time. I brought over movies, we were going to give out candy and have a fun night. Then you made me talk about something I said I don’t want to talk about. You need to respect my wishes.”

   “Okay. I won’t ever bring it up again. I love you.”

   “I love you too, but you kept poking and poking. You made me talk about something I said I don't want to talk about." He reminded me of my ex husband, leaning towards paranoia. I began to see Jekyll’s Hyde or Hyde’s Jekyll and/or someone ugly.

   “You’re scaring me. I’ve never seen you angry like this.”

   “Oh, if you think this is angry, honey, you haven’t seen anything.”

   …Dude Three assured me we’d be okay. He needed time alone, though, so he collected his things and said he was going home.

   "I'm going to kill her," he said, standing under my door frame, "I'm not kidding." He then blew me a kiss and left.

   Whoa. Right? Scary stuff. Sigh. And I'd fallen in love with such a nice man. I thought. Again. A sudden explosion from an angry, troubled man who didn't seem at all angry at any point before this.

To be continued once more, and then more. Because even when our story’s over, it’s not over. You can’t imagine why. I wouldn’t have ever imagined things as they are now…

Dude Three and Movie Trivia for Birgit

   May this find you well and in hopeful spirits, my Dear Sillies.
  
   Back onto Dude Three (no, not like that. Not yet anyway) - We sat side by side, eating party munchies and listening to lively, live music at a friend’s gathering. There was a tension between us, a good one. I could sense Dude’s nervousness. And when I tripped over nothing onto concrete, as we walked to thank the party host, I sensed my own tension. Then again, that maneuver wasn’t atypical. Just more embarrassing than usual - first date and all.
   “At least you fell gracefully,” Three said, grabbing the baking dish I’d clung onto.
   Oy vey. “Nah, not at all graceful, but thanks for saying that.”

   I hugged Brandi, the hostess. “New boyfriend?” she whispered.
   “First date,” I told her, “I like him.”
   “Maybe he'll be story-worthy.”
   I nodded, craving good . . . material.

----------------------------------))))((((
    At my place, we sat on my couch and talked about what we'd agreed was a "great" date. Dude shared more about his family.
   When he mentioned his mother’s death years earlier, I found my hand in his.
   A few heated seconds later, I found his lips on mine. Sparks were ignited. An electricity between us mixed with passion, thoughtfulness, sensitivity, and -well- it was 2am before we knew it.
   Naturally, he spent the night, in my living room. Alone. “I’m not putting out,” he'd informed. “It’s too soon.”

    “I agree, too soon. Besides, I’m leaving for Greece on Wednesday.* No 'putting out' before I leave.”

 -----------------------------------(((()))))
   A second date, a few days before my trip, proved even more fun and firework-y.
   Dude Three cooked a stir-fry dinner for us. Then we had some “dessert” on my couch. But not the full extent of dessert. I’m not that kind of girl, not yet anyway.

*Written approx. 2 months after-the-fact.

to be continued. ---

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   One of my closest, most loyal blog friends, Anthony J. Langford, recently published Pseudo Stars. Everything he creates -- be it poetry, prose, or film -- is a class act. Plus, he's Australian. They're great peeps. Congratulations on the book release (and on being an Aussie), Anthony!  

    And now, a Greek scene, in honor of Birgit. Birgit's sassy wit never fails to make me laugh hysterically. And her movie trivia is fabulously fun. 
   My question for you, Birgit and everyone: What movie is this setting from? I took the photo on the Greek isle of Crete.  Let's see who guesses correctly first.

Let's Hear It for the Boy, Love!?

My Dear Sillies,

How's November treating you?

I'm at a Grecian airport in this photo. A book that's been providing cozy, delightful comfort these days, I Love You / Now Go Away, was also a big hit among my travel buddies. They took photos and/or jotted down the title. This one's a jewel, my friends. Dawn Weber, national-award-winning humorist, and my friend at Lighten Up, wrote it on her Smartphone. The whole book! Written on a Smartphone! That takes more smarts and savvy than I'll ever have. It's a hearty, human and hysterical quick read that'll keep you laughing throughout. (This recommendation is completely unsolicited, needless to say. Read it and you'll be grateful, needless to say.)

On the topic of love...

A recap: Dude Three had explained and apologized for his previous case of cold feet. He'd been trying to get over an ex, he told me. Yeah, whatever. Dude, man up or leave me alone. (Right?) Chicken sh*titude does not intrigue me. But that cute smile of his - sigh.

Then came a message a few days later: "I'm wondering if sometime this weekend you'd like to go for a picnic at Bidwell? I think that would be fun."

He did it! I felt a strong urge to provide immediate, positive reinforcement. Plus, relative to the other chicken sh*ts I'd been meeting, this one was clearly a winner and a champ. Did I mention my weakness for a man with a charming smile?  I was also drawn in by his apparent honesty mixed with a dash of vulnerability.

"Why yes, I'll gladly accept the invite," I responded.

We proceeded to make plans.

Let's hear it for the boy! Would he be my Romeo? My lovin' one man show? You've gotta understand. Oh, oh, oh, oh...Sorry. To be continued.

Be well, my friends. 

Take care of yourselves, and have a good week.

Me and Dude Three

Dear Sillies, 
   Today (Nov 6th) is the last day of my ebook giveaway here. Feel free to download, since it's free.
   Onto other matters, besides my trip to Greece, friends, I kept another secret from you.
   It's a dude story. Remember when I wrote a Memo to the Men I'm Not Dating? [September 12th post.]
  My story starts by giving you the back story to my summary story of Dude 3 below:
Dude 3, DO NOT have a cute, endearing smile and tell her how much you want to see her, after telling her you’re not ready for a relationship, and after dissing her to go sell baseball cards on EBay. Don’t take for granted that she’ll wait for you to man up, or that she wants to hang out in the friend-zone. Go for a grand slam, if you earn her trust back first, or don’t play at all. Don’t do it, dude.

    
   Three and I met on a group camping trip, July 4th weekend. An innocent crush simmered, while we watched fireworks sprinkle the night skies over Lake Almanor. I slept happily after a sweet, brief kiss. Alas, I couldn't find Three the next morning. He'd darted in fear, I figured. I know the routine--the unmanly chicken dance. But I arrived home to a message: "I had to leave early, stuff to do...I've gotta go sell baseball cards on EBay." I was more amused than hurt.       

   Months, and Dudes 1, 2, and 4 later, I happened to see Three at a concert in the city plaza. "Come over here," he said, with outstretched arms. Three hugged me, imparting a "Hi sweetie." (Damn him.) It was nice and a bit awkward. Given I'd been dissed for baseball card negotiations, I went back to my original spot on the dance floor, and proceeded to have a fun night alone.
   At home, this message awaited: "It was great seeing you. Sorry I left early the weekend we met. I want to explain, I wasn't ready to let you into my life because of someone else on my mind. I hope you understand. I enjoyed spending time with you quite a bit."
   While very much endeared by his honesty, I thought: Dude, man up or not!
   "We're all scared," I told him. "Thank you for being honest. It's a refreshing change. I didn't think it was personal, but it's nice to hear. I really appreciate it."
   "No, never personal. I was just being chicken sh*t."

to be continued.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Another group of Greek souvenirs for my bloggy friends:

For Bryan, in celebration of your birthday week! Greek beer, and lots of it!

For Pat Tillet, who's always showing us hidden treasures. This is Akrotiri, where a Greek (or Minoan or "Pre-Greek") civilization flourished until volcanic destruction in approximately 1700 BC. There are layers of cities underneath it too. Most everything found was intact, as is. Incredible, right?

                                         Geo, this gem is for you, our poetic bloggy gem.

Near the entrance of Atlantis Books in Oia, on the isle of Santorini.

Be well, my dears.
Have a good November, and a good, safe week.
Love to you.