A Night Out With My Vagina

OMG, Y’all have to read this and/or listen LOL ūüôā

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Dreaming a little dream of me…

So today is the first step on ¬†my new path. I did good. I fought off the temptation of ruining my fitness plan. I stuck to my guns about not getting on a dating site. And I tackled my elliptical. (Including rearranging the furniture to¬†accommodate the likelihood of me being successful. I like to look out my ceiling to floor windows into the back yard, ¬†so I think that will help.)¬†Anyway, I have been doing a lot of reading lately and discovered the scary truth: ¬†neglecting ME (my physical, mental health and needs, in general) is just another form of self-punishment. I thought I had long outgrown this terrible practice. This is a long road, y’all. ¬†A childhood filled with rejection and invalidation doesn’t just disappear. It lingers relentlessly, waiting for a moment to have an encore. One more bow for the great performance of the past.

Today is for hope. I can believe that I will escape my current life and move on to the next phase. I am going to continue to rebuild myself, despite the outcries, protests (silent and otherwise) and cold shoulders I have received from “family” and “friends”. So here we go, on this adventure, seeking happiness. The real kind of happiness that lasts and recreates itself and goes from one person to another. I am almost afraid to dream. But, a dreamer is always easily led to the chase. The sweet feeling of closing my eyes and leaping…never knowing for sure where I may land.

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Daddy Dating Don’ts

Dating site crazies! I am beyond the point of sanity. Ok ¬†I have a NEW pet peeve *Crowd cheers*. What in the hell is up with older men posing in their main pics with their hot teenage daughters?! It is CREEPY! What about a picture with YOUR teenage daughter says “Hey Ladies, date me”?! ¬†I am at a complete loss with this one. I just think pedophile. If the daughter is in her mid 20’s, I think “ex-girlfriend” and never even notice it is a daughter! So here we go, these are a few of my favorites. Seriously, really from a dating site which is a free, public site.

This is just bizarre. The Dad and Daughter have the SAME, exact pose. I am concerned about being required to join this tradition if I were to date him. Looks like it could throw my back out…not in a good way!

Ok this one at least looks like hand-on-the-shoulder Dad-ish. but still, really?! I can’t get past the fact that these men are using their daughters to attract…..women??? Huh?!

I think that this new pet peeve is worse than the “man with dog” pictures.

This is the other strange fad in online: Daddies and their children. Because nothing says sexy like…..what?!!! *Vomits on keyboard*

Dads: Nothing is sexier than a man who knows how to take care of his family. However, do I need to see your kids on your profile? Hellz to the no!


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Dating Site Relapse!

They’re telling me to go to rehab….

I said….Ok, good idea.

Y’all, I have had a dating site relapse! I am waking up with the kind of hangover where you smell vomit somewhere in your room…look for it and can’t find it…then crawl back into bed only to discover it’s in your hair. Don’t judge. You know what I am talking about!

I have dated so many goobers, nerds, losers, him-whores and crazies to fill an entire smoky bar. I think it is probably the stress from watching my entire career disintegrate. Preceded by the disintegration of my ten-year marriage and dissolution of my family’s ¬†and friends’ obligation to care. I am at rock bottom: face-down, one-eye- open, smelling-the-vomit-in my- hair and crying- my-eyes-out rock bottom. (Whew! That was intense!)

I have the bitter after taste in my mouth of too many men groping, kissing and ¬†touching me, rejecting and insulting my intelligence. I am EXHAUSTED. I can’t go back and I can’t seem to get out of the mud. I hate “stuck”…it’s such an ugly place to be. I can’t seem to find that tipping point that leads me to stop the crazy dating. I am so alone, it’s like any company, however strange and bizarre, is better than none. I sound pathetic, but I am not¬†exaggerating. Something¬†occurred¬†in my life 2 years ago that keeps me on the outskirts of life. I am in the same routine, but like a ghost walking the steps of what I used to do. I do not understand why people think that divorce means abandon ship! How can you call yourself a friend when you are disinterested in how a person is doing. A person who carried you at times you couldn’t walk. ¬†Anyway, I am focusing on forgiveness there, but even forgiveness doesn’t change the fact that I am alone. I am not afraid of myself. I am not afraid of being alone. I am afraid that I am always energy-out with no energy-in refueling my spirit and mind.

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It’s been a Berry, Berry Bizarre Month on the Dating Site!

Here is the reality of my Duds-ville dating Disaster: I feel like I need to update y’all on the myriad of men that disappoint. I think I have set an all-time record low on man selection!

Professor Poetry: Yikes! He was an odd man. I think his confession about his cat “girlfriend”and his bizarre, Middle School Jump-my-Bones approach to ¬†seduction was creepy-ish. I have never heard from him and hope I never, ever do. He should be¬†embarrassed. It seems like a PhD would earn you the reasoning ability to figure out how to attract a woman. ¬†I guess not!

Super Trooper: Hang on to your hats here people…Super Trooper stalked me to the point he discovered a google plus page I didn’t even remember having! I finally convinced him to give me his full name and discovered that his wife has been dead 3 months. Seriously?! A man is stalking me 3 months after he buried his wife. Okay, no explanation needed for that weird situation. His contact was bizarre and became more and more like a chess game. He seemed to enjoy analyzing me and pretending to control and manipulate me. This man is very familiar and I recognize his M.O. Today I texted him and told him I was looking for someone else. Of course, I had no response, as he had already started to retreat after telling me his name. He knows I now know his secret. What he doesn’t know is that I REALLY know his secret: I have dated “him” a million times before. ¬†So long, Super Trooper!

BMOC: Oh this one is hilarious! So, he texts me and asks me out on Thursday. By Friday morning, I haven’t heard from him, so I text and ask if we are going out. He responds with somewhat cryptic language and sarcasm. I laugh, because what he doesn’t know is that I don’t care. At this point, I was still in the Super Trooper fog of denial. I told BMOC to call me because we seemed to be mis-communicating through text. He called me after work, was very short with me and abruptly stated “Well that is it. See you later, have a safe drive.” Huh?! So, I went home and took off my clothes, deciding that I would cancel the date. I put off calling or texting because, let’s be honest, I have a curiosity problem. So, I drove to his demanded location (45 minutes away) and parked outside of the Chic Martini Bar he selected as our date. I walked into the bar, on the phone, but hung up and spotted him immediately. I passed right by him and he never batted an eye. I knew it was him. He looked up at me as if he never expected me to really show up. I had to say to him:”Hey. It’s Me.” I was thinking, I could walk right back out, but I didn’t. BMOC was seated at the bar where there was no privacy, in a bar full of cozy spaces (Which is where he had told me to look for him: “I will find us a quiet sitting area.”) ¬†The bartender overheard every word we uttered and it made for such an awkward moment! BMOC was glued to the television watching sports and commented on how he knew I hated sports. I tried to make conversation. I mentioned work, the area, his job transfer, the weather…. and then…..I quit. I stared at the TV and half-heartedly pretended to watch the game. He stared at my boobies, looked at my legs and feet. I could see him staring creepily out of the corner of my eye. Then BMOC ¬†came up with a conversation- starter- wanna-be of his own: “Do you have any collectibles?” Ah What? I asked him to repeat the question. I am sure I looked puzzled. The only collectible I could think of was Strawberry Shortcake. Flashback: 80’s memorabilia. I had the whole gang: SS, Blueberry Muffin, Apple Dumpling, Huckleberry Pie….oh you get the picture! My Memories are interrupted by his announcement that he collects *drumroll please* shot glasses. Wow. College flashback soon to follow. BMOC begins to tell me how he is a Foster Dad to Foster Dogs from the Animal Shelter and that he has to get up early to go sell a dog. He asks me to cancel my diet coke I just ordered, tells the bartender we are on separate tabs (My tab was $7.00) and he proceeds to leave. He asks if he can walk me to my car and I decline, but he insists. He tries to hug me goodbye, but I do the stiffen my body-turn to unlock my car- move and manage to escape with minimal hugging. He said something I don’t remember and I shouted, “Go sell a dog tomorrow! have fun.” (I was grasping at small talk versus any kind of encouraging goodbye.) The time of this date from start to finish? 38 minutes. Yep, It took me longer to drive home than the entire date lasted. I suspect that he walked back to his dorm across the street. As I drove off, I saw him *pretending* to unlock a car. I blocked him from the dating site and really feel like he was a budding serial killer. I am thinking I was too much woman for him as I am not a twig. He was probably trying to calculate how long it would take to saw me up with a hacksaw. [That girl is big! Her boobies alone could take hours to chop up!] Abandon plan!

Today I have been sick and on painkillers, so it prompted me to text the group of lingerers as amusement. Side bar: I have yet another very bad habit. I like to push an awkward situation that I don’t really care about. I find it interesting to see how far people are willing to spar to debate or be manipulated. On painkillers, this terrible quality gets amplified. So I texted Mr I Have a Job and asked him why he was mad at me. (I know why he is mad. I blew him off publically and granted, that was bitchy. I don’t like hot and cold and it makes me do Bad things.) I also texted Golden Oldie and asked him why he is ignoring me. Oh dear, that was a mistake. It lead to me having to have a pretend real conversation about feelings, destiny, rainbows and unicorns. Oh Gawd, I hate feelings talk when it’s just been sex. I also texted Super Trooper and attempted a small guilt trip about his decision to RUN. LOL This made me giggle because we both know he is a crazy stalker. ¬†My best friend and I laugh because we are both the type who do these things for amusement. where most people would try to have their pride, I find a social experiment. Anyway, that is how this dating site story ends. I am going back into man-candy recovery…back on my man diet…and back to my 2012 Strawberry Shortcake collectibles.¬†

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Looking back…moving forward

I have finally reached the end of the man candy road. I can’t take anymore. Not one single more first meeting, filled with fake interest in what I think or feel. Can’t take another false hope or future faker. I am sure that somewhere in this mix of ridiculosity, I am partially at fault. There is no way that one girl could attract so many personality-disordered men without some sort of secret beacon sending out the message: “I am here and willing to tolerate the absurd.” Today was the very end of that era. I took down my dating site profile and have resolved to work on myself. ¬†

Have you ever noticed that life imitates those “coming of age” movies? It’s like you look back and some of what you planned is exactly where you are, but so much is not at all what you dreamed of. I want my dream. I want a man that loves my strengths, tolerates my weaknesses and brings out the best in me. A man who allows me to get close and see him for who he is and was and will be. ¬†I want the dream I bought into when I married a man who cost me everything. I have lost my entire family, all of my friends, my reputation, my health and my career. Thank God I have my children and my online friends.

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Excuse me…don’t I know you?

Here’s what I am thinking: Dating is frustrating! I don’t know why my experience with the online dating site is so different this time. For some reason, there is a different “crowd”. I have been asked out by 6 police officers. Wow. I think I have NEVER been asked out by the popo before. I also am starting to see that I keep getting linked up with the same type of man on this site. My question is…..do online dating sites attract shy, introspective, brooding, mysterious men OR does my profile attract these guys?

Professor Poetry is a man in his early 30’s, who is a professor at a local University. He was cute, nice, brilliant but, well, ummm *shifting in my chair* awkward. He discussed how he had a cat who lives several thousand miles away and that he calls her on the phone. He also referred to her as his “girlfriend” (MEEEEE—OW!) I was completely amused by the seemingly normal exterior he had going, which concealed a bizarre world beneath the surface. ¬†We went out to dinner and laughed. He brought me home and kinda hinted that he wanted to come inside (It was early and dinner was quick, so I assumed it was an innocent thing.) Prof. Poetry came in and sat on my sofa and while we were talking…he jumped me! He was like a Lion on a gazelle. He was like cheese on a cracker. He was like white on rice. Okay you get the picture. he was a great kisser, but I never did get the lead up to the jump. It was like…Huh?!! So, I make it clear that the goodies are not to be had by his first-date enthusiasm. ¬† I don’t think I have ever had any man be that forward when sober. He stated that we should hang out this weekend but would not commit to a night, so I told him he had to go so I could get my baby. He kissed me goodnight and said he would call me. The following morning I got up and texted him Good Morning, have a great day. His Reply: A not-very-English-Professorish:”mornin” Ummm . Mornin’. Can I get a “g”? Oh dear. I feel a dissertation on the weirdness of him coming to mind. I haven’t heard from him since, and there’s a part of me that feels ok with that.

Super Trooper: This man is hilarious funny. I enjoy talking to him, but he is a stalker. he actually made a donation to the company I sing with in order to have them give him my full name. (I will deal with the ticket booth man later!) He is talking about a weekend away together, but has not made an effort to set up a time to meet. Today, I have not heard from him at all which he knows is like pointing me to the next good looking suspect.

Motorcycle Man: This man is quite older than I. He is funny, but also doesn’t make much of an effort to text or call regularly. I have spoken on the phone to him once and felt really pressured to carry the conversation. I am meeting him for lunch tomorrow, but can’t imagine that he will be a good fit for my personality.

BMOC: This is a college guy, much younger than I. He is great looking and funny, but will have to prove he is grown. I am supposed to be going out with him tomorrow night, so we will find out how it goes!

There you have it: My Crazy life update!

Love and Blessings,

Miss Maribel Maeve

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I didn’t want to post a negative post. I think that says it all. I am anonymously blogging and still feel the pressure to be pleasant. I had a terrible, no-good, awful day at work yesterday. I got written up for a lot of unfounded things. I was devastated. I don’t know if it was the fact that the things were so skewed to serve their purpose or if there is never a word of praise to counter balance that onslaught of criticism. Whatever it was, it made me fall apart.

I feel alone. Completely alone in the adult world. The men I go out with don’t last long because they are too busy for me. Maybe they are too busy lying, cheating or focusing on their own joy. I AM TIRED. There is no sleep long enough to re-energize me. I need kindness and love. My friends are superficially friends, my family has all turned against me. My babies are the only people who are here with me. I fear that my sadness is causing them pain. Whenever I feel this way I like to think of what I am thankful for:

My beautiful, brilliant baby boys.

My coworkers who are my inspiration every day.

A rainbow after the rain.

Music, Music, Music. And the fact that for this moment I can hear it..how long that will be the case I don’t know.

All of you who share a piece of your heart and spirit with me.

Much Love,

Maribel Maeve

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Random Thoughts

I am not sure where to begin this post. My head is a mumble-jumble of random thoughts that I am afraid are not very interesting. I have been texting Mr. Bubby Wubby (too much text, not enough talk) and I REALLY like him. However, he is a typical con. Flashy smile, gorgeous eyes…says all the right things at the right time. I recognize that man, that look, that phrase, that smell, all designed to trick you into giving him your heart for his collection. These are my men! The man who has no job, no home of his own, no set schedule and no obligations to stay or go. What in the world have I put into the universe to bring me the heart-stopping gaze of these charmers? If I didn’t have 2 little babies to think of, I would have a long list of naughty names and deadly deeds. But, it isn’t just me on this rollercoaster ride. I have to make good choices for my future. I have to think with my planning brain not my throw-all-caution-to-the-wind brain.

That brings me back to Mr. Jag. He is calling and asking me to go out of town again. I like him, I really do. However, He is older and has health issues and and and…… I know I need to focus on the good qualities. In Bronze Goddess’ world, that’s what “good girls” do; they find the¬†pleasantry in every unpleasant situation. Chin up.

This video is my favorite and often describes my situation, full of contradictions..that’s me.

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Delicious Delights

I feel like a Cole Porter song. 

Singing, shimmying, swaying, smiling.

The Man parade this weekend was bizarre at best, but also good. ¬†We had Friday night which included Mr. Phone Man, who I cancelled out on Thursday. He didn’t text and didn’t call except one time in 3 days and it wasn’t a complete sentence. “Band Practice now”. Huh?! Is it an order, a warning, or a statement? Who knows, who knew, who cares? ¬†I texted him and told him to keep on practicing.

Dr Dolittle (aka Dr. Sporty) flaked out, so I blocked him. And we had a strange contender for flake of the week: A guy we will call Braggy, asked me out. I told him all I had available was lunch Saturday. On Staurday he asked if we could meet at noon, then texted asking to meet at 3, then texted asking to meet at 7 PM. I replied that I was much too exhausted with all the planning, that I was afraid I was too tired for an actual date. (With him!)

Dr. Dolittle flaked that same night, so I accepted a date with Chief Wounded Ego. This man is very nice, really considerate, but very Vanilla. I mean, no sprinkles, no hot fudge sauce…nothing spicy. He talked about how his ex-wife ditched him without warning. It is a sad story, but it’s terrible to be on the receiving end of the ego-destruction. I need a man. Like a man-man. Not a half-hearted, broken man. ¬†If you have been reading my blog, you know that I am taking it as my mission to help rebuild his ego. ¬†However, I am not very single-focused and he will be my side-project. I like him and he is nice.

The final date of the weekend marathon was the flaming chocolate fondue. Kaboom. Dy-no-mite! Delish. Mr.Bubby Wubby is the quintessential tempting temptation for Miss Maribel Maeve: He is stocky and muscular (Yum), Gorgeous eyes, Smiles a lot and is smart and sexy. Also, he is (self-admittedly) cheap, drives an old beater and has no aspirations in life except to save money and at the same time become old. This type of a man baffles me because I don’t know why men think a woman would want to build her life on mediocrity. I don’t need the best of everything, but I would like to know that the man I am with has some kind of motivation. Women find men with ambition to be sexy. It’s genetics, I think. Hunt and gather. Not hunt and Nap. Gather, my man, GATHER.

Anyway, I am sure I will be utterly distracted from any possible meaningful future man because I will be drooling on Mr. Bubby Wubby or rescuing Chief Wounded Ego.

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