Happy Holidays from The V Word!
I opened my email: Enjoyed reading your profile. I too am allergic to cats 🙂 Have a nice weekend and Holiday Season. – Bill
Before I responded I read his profile:
I am a very fit, educated and well travelled 48 year old man, who has lived an extraordinary life, but who has also made mistakes and is now starting over. From these mistakes and the resulting consequences, I have learned humility and am thankful for the opportunity to reinvent myself. Daily, I have to be the best man I can be in every aspect of my life, especially in a future relationship. I look forward to getting to know a special woman, with whom there will be love, friendship, trust, laughter, fun and special moments to share; a very special woman who will take a “leap of faith” and look to the future and its potential. To start, a coffee would be nice. Thank you for reading my profile. I wish you joy.
Wow! What an odd profile. I typed:
“From these mistakes and the resulting consequences” – Wow, what did you do?
He typed back: BTW, you have a great smile 🙂
It figures, no response to my question. My computer chimed again. There was another message from him:
While trying to save my 25 year export management company during the financial crisis, I made a poor choice and consequently was convicted of a white collar felony, spending 21 months in federal prison. I am now a 48 year old man restarting his life, grateful for this second chance. From the day I started my sentence (returned home in Aug. 2014) and everyday since, I work on being the best man I can be intellectually, spiritually, emotionally and physically. Now you know. I wish you a peaceful weekend. – Bill
I replied: That makes sense. I figured it was something like that. You are very brave to share that straight off. Most people do not reveal themselves like that even in person – certainly not on the internet! Best of luck to you.
His reply: Thank you. I appreciate your responding. You are obviously a woman of substance with a kind soul; beautiful inside and out. I wish you joy. -Bill
Dating is hard enough. I certainly don’t want to date a felon. Especially an out of town felon. That’s just too much to deal with!
I was talking to a close friend the other day when she mentioned my blog. She said she found it “rather amusing” and “mostly funny” but it was clear she was holding something back. As a newish blogger I really wanted to know what she was withholding so I pushed her to tell me. Turns out she wasn’t pleased with two particular posts – Robert Redford Not and No Offense Patty. She didn’t have to tell me why. I knew immediately what had annoyed her – I could almost hear the words from my recent posts in my head,
Suddenly Robert Redford wasn’t quite as hot. He certainly was not the 5′-11″ he promised in his profile. Now, generally speaking I have no problem with men shorter than myself. In this particular case I am ashamed to say I had this man, based on his photo, profile and pedigree, on a pedestal.
Was that SO bad? Was I being awful? Rude? Mean spirited? And then I thought about the second post. I cringed when I thought of my slightly chubby friend reading the snarky Patty piece. Truth be told, when I was writing the words I knew I was being harsh – maybe even mean.
You should know that most of us don’t want to envision Patty and her husband in bed in that ugly suburban cape in a bed far too small for the two large bodies (yes, I have decided Patty’s husband is also very overweight because he hasn’t been having sex with Patty he’s been frustrated and drinking Pabst by the six-pack and eating processed food including hot dogs, Wonder Bread and Cheese Whiz). And if I’m mistaken and Patty’s husband isn’t overweight (or addicted to crap) he’s probably been hanging out getting lap dances in the local strip club. I’ve got news for you, in either case, he’s most likely not interested in Patty and hasn’t been in a long, long time. There are going to be a lot of lonely women with hopes of rekindling a romance that burned out long ago because of your commercial. I think Heidi Fleiss needs to get her ass in gear and open that Stud Farm she’s been promising to in Vegas. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m judgmental (I am) I just feels like you’re setting up a lot of women for a huge disappointment.
As I tried to explain to my friend that I was still trying to find the balance in my writing I realized I sounded as If I was making excuses. I knew I hurt her personally when she read the No Offense Patty post. I wanted to disappear I felt so bad. That’s precisely when she asked, “So are you dating to find love or to collect material?” Ouch. Which was it? I said goodbye to my friend and walked home thinking about her question the entire time. Why was I going on these dates? Was I really ready to be in a loving relationship? Or was she right, was I just going through the motions to get good material? No, I wasn’t. If I wanted really good material I would go out with the twenty year olds, or the eighty year olds, or the guys with motorcycles, or four ex wives. I reminded myself that I was simply highly selective. On the other hand, maybe she was right, sometimes it was about the material.
Naturally, as a writer, I try to push my stories a little further to make them more interesting for you, my readers. If I wrote all about the perfectly lovely dates I go on and how every gentleman was so wonderful would my blog be as much fun? I think not. I tried to defend myself. I told her to keep in mind, I’m a relatively new writer. I’ve had two great and very funny writing teachers – Nelsie Spencer and Marilyn Horowitz. Both women were instrumental in helping me make my writing not only better but funnier but alas, I’ve still got a long way to go! When I have time I plan to sign up for Nelsie’s Comedy Writing class at Gotham Writer’s in NYC. Nelsie has had a radio show and even done stand up. I know there is a fine line between funny and mean. Hopefully she can help me learn the difference.
Nelsie, my fomer writing coach, is appearing at Stand Up New York on December 30th. Catch her 800 funny bits about being an empty-nester, sex over 50, and how to still be married after 30 years. Email Nelsie at email@example.com to get on the list! Stand Up New York is located at 238 West 78th Street near Broadway. Showtime is 8PM-10PM. Seating begins at 7PM sharp.
Alba Salas is a miracle worker. She is the person that celebrities and television shows call when they need an expert. Alba has been working with women’s luxury lingerie/ready to wear apparel for over 25 years. You will probably recognize Alba – a pint size, powerhouse with a sparkling smiling – if you are a fan of The Meredith Vieira Show. She’s been their on camera bra expert since September 2014 and was most recently featured again just last month. Over the years Alba has assisted the likes of Bette Midler and Kathleen Turner to name just a few.
I was at the Town Shop last week where Alba hails as the Breast Support Expert. She is the Best of the Breast! I had been noticing my bras were no longer doing their job for my formerly perky breasts. After a split second with Alba, before I even removed my blouse, I learned that apparently both my bras and my breasts were losing elasticity – not a good combination! I was also wearing the wrong size bra. Alba knew all of this just from first glance – she doesn’t need a tape measure and in many cases she knows the problem before your top comes off and she see your “girls”. I felt like a total idiot until Alba told me that 80% of women are wearing the wrong size bra!
Over the years, the Town Shop has become the most famous lingerie store in New York City. They specialize in lingerie, and more specifically and especially the delicate art of fitting by Alba. This exceptional level of customer service has been the key to our success for over four generations.
The Town Shop carries every type of bra you could be looking for, from sizes AA to K. They feature an expansive variety of products, including everyday basics, super sexy lingerie, comfy nursing bras and modern maternity wear. The Town Shop also provides a wide selection of swimwear, sleeper, shape wear, hosiery and accessories. They have been named New York Magazine’s “The Best of New York” as the “Best Place to be Fitted for a Bra”. Stop by and you’ll understand why. Say hi to Alba for me!
New York, NY 10024
Located between 81st and 82nd Street Phone: 212-724-8160
Monday – Friday 10:00 AM to 7:00 PM
Saturday 9:30 AM to 6:00 PM
Sunday 11:00 AM to 6:00 PM
If you’re not in NYC you can find the Town Shop Online at: TownShop.com
Remember – You’ll always have support at The Town Shop!
He called from Paris and Riyadh. He Skyped me from Dubai. He really wanted to meet me. Although exhausted and jet lagged he rallied the evening he arrived back home. I was Match.com date #28 for him. According to him, each of the 27 before me all wanted to be in a relationship with him but he wasn’t interested. I didn’t tell him that he was date number #82 for me.
He was attractive, well dressed, (great jeans!) very fit, super smart – in a Big Bang Theory kind of way. He spent a lot of time traveling to the CDC, the NIH, lectured all over the world and had both an office at a prestigious university and one in his impressive home. He ate well, exercised and swam daily. I like a smart man, an educated man, a well-traveled man and staying fit is very important to me too. Not that I keep a list of what I wanted or anything but this guy was check, check, check and there was chemistry. Ah, the illusive chemistry we all seek!
While we looked over the menu. He told me, “I will not eat Octopus. They are one of the most intelligent animals on the planet. It would be like eating a human.” I don’t eat octopus so that didn’t bother me. Then he told me both of his parents were psycho-analysts but “I’m very normal” Every person I ever met who had a shrink for a parent was a mess, this guy had two parents who were shrinks! Red flag? I hoped he was the exception to the rule.
As we ate he told me about his work. He casually dropped into the conversation that he had hoped he would have won a Nobel Prize by now. He mentioned it again a few minutes later. “I get the feeling it’s still bothering you,” I nudged him in a caring manner the way a therapist might. His response, “I’m not political. I could never win.”
Hmmm… Doesn’t do well with disappointment. Thinks he’s smarter than past recipients. Places blame on others. Red flag number two?
I let it slide because I was enjoying my dinner and the lovely bottle of french wine when he asked, “Would you be able to eat sheep eyes?”
“Sheep’s eye? No, never. I don’t even eat lamb. Why?”
“When I’m in Riyadh if I brought you to dinner you would have to. It’s considered an honor. You cannot insult people… especially people I work with.”
Had I just failed his test? I sat there quietly for a moment and wondered would I be able to eat a sheep eye. I didn’t eat lamb because sheep are so cute. My diet is 90% vegetables and spicy food kills me.
As the date came to a close, the world-famous doctor/researcher I was sitting hip to help with said, “Don’t call me tomorrow. I want you to think over what we talked about tonight. Wait a few days. Think if you could really be in a relationship with me. You know what I have to offer.”
I never called. BAZINGA!
The Big Bang Theory is on CBS on Thursdays at 8PM EST
I’m a fun, fit, fabulous women in Menopause. I live in a big city and do active things. I don’t have a husband (I turned him in a decade ago) or one specific boyfriend. I’m on a dating website, I’m social, and I travel all the time. I like men and sex. I do not look like a lunch lady or an overweight suburban mom. I also don’t look like the over sexualized women in your former commercial. Those poor women trying their hardest to look sexy always reminded me of an aged-out brothel workers showing off their assets in the hopes of catching a client’s attention. I don’t know if that’s just my sick mind, your dumb ad, or exactly what you had in mind when you were sitting around a large conference table brainstorming how you could sell women more prescription pills. How embarrassing for these poor actresses who made those ads. I’m sure you paid them well but not well enough for those few moments of humiliation.
Equally as awful is your new spokesperson, Patty, and her sad little life. Actually, the Patty commercial is even more offensive for a few reasons. You should know that most of us don’t want to envision Patty and her husband in bed in that ugly suburban cape in a bed far too small for the two large bodies (yes, I have decided Patty’s husband is also very overweight because he hasn’t been having sex with Patty he’s been frustrated and drinking Pabst by the six pack and eating processed food including hot dogs, Wonder Bread and Cheese Whiz).
And if I’m mistaken and Patty’s husband isn’t overweight (or addicted to crap) he’s probably been hanging out getting lap dances in the local strip club. I’ve got news for you, in either case, he’s most likely not interested in Patty and hasn’t been in a long, long time. There are going to be a lot of lonely women with hopes of rekindling a romance that burned out long ago because of your commercial. I think Heidi Fleiss needs to get her ass in gear and open that Stud Farm she’s been promising to in Vegas. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m judgmental (I am) I just feels like you’re setting up a lot of women for a huge disappointment.
I will say I’m glad you got the conversation started but I’m not happy how Osphena is presenting women. Please stop talking to the men at the ad agency you’re working with or the tween branding team that knows nothing about menopause or grown up women. It’s insulting to viewers to think the average American woman is a morbidly obese and white. Although I am white on the outside, many of us are not Patty.
And to your star:
I’m sure you’re a lovely woman. I hope you have a husband who cherishes you and still wants to get it on with you, with or without Osphena. This is just not a conversation I want to have with you. I want to see a woman more like me representing the brand.
A stressed, subdued, and tongue-tied Charlie Sheen revealed his H.I.V.-positive status today, saying that he had paid people to keep quiet about his condition in order to put a stop “to this onslaught, this barrage of attacks and of sub-truths and very harmful and mercurial stories that are about me.”
As Charlie said today, “It is a hard three letters to absorb,” The truth is so painful but thank god today we have hope. H.I.V. is no longer a death sentence. To Charlie, and everyone living with H.I.V. or AIDs (or with a family member, spouse, or lover with either of these nasty disease) I light a candle for you. Stay strong. You are not forgotten.
It’s amazing when we share with women what kind of feedback we get. I love opinions when I’m asking for them, not so much when I want to be blissfully unaware of another person’s maybe not so good experiences. When I left my new gynecologist’s office with a prescription in hand for Premarin Cream I nearly skipped to the pharmacy. The hope of restoring my vagina to a more youthful version of days gone past was enough to make me smile from ear to ear. Then I told my girlfriends.
“It’s made from horse urine. How gross is that?”
“The smell is so bad you’re entire home will stink.”
“It gave me cramps.”
“I gained weight when I was using it.”
“It made me bleed. Oh, wait, that was Premarin PILLS.”
That really put a damper on things. Especially the horse urine comment. It’s funny that I had been making jokes about getting back on the horse and now there would be some parts of a horse inside my vagina. How ironic. And gross. I thought my girlfriends would cheer me on and be proud of me that I was trying to get back in the saddle. Somehow it seemed they were discouraging me instead. Why do some women do that?
I picked up the prescription and decided I was going to be the lucky one. I could open a window or light a candle if there was an odor. I wouldn’t mind a few extra pounds, especially if they want to my breasts or my ass. I even made peace with the horse pee – for god’s sake everyone knows urine is sterile! I prayed I wouldn’t get cramps. I’m going to be the lucky one this time!
I got home and sniffed the cream. NOTHING horsey or pee like at all. As a matter of fact there was no odor whatsoever. What the hell was she talking about?
I’ll let you now what happens.