Breaking Up is Hard to Do!

rest-jumboI’d been ready to break up with this guy for three weeks. He said something dumb, really passive aggressive relating to my intelligence over dinner. I ran to the ladies room and was as sick as a dog. It wasn’t from the Artisanal agnolotti filled with ricotta and Italian pumpkin, in a walnut and butter sauce we shared,the bottle of Sancerre, the Chef’s risotto del giornoor the Bigné filled with hazelnut cream and wild berry sauce. It was my date that was making me ill. My gut was telling me loud and clear this guy was not for me.black-bathroom-design_5

I returned from the lady’s room a good 15 minutes later and said I was very sick and needed to go home. After a dinner like this I’m sure this was not the ending to our evening that he was hoping for!

I knew I needed to break up with him. I consulted with my girlfriend,

“It’s not fair to break it off right before Christmas.”

Her response, “So basically you’re saying you want a gift?”gift-box

“Not at all!” I argued.

“So then you need to do it now, before.”

With time running out I wondered out loud how I should do it; text, email, phone call or the most dreaded – in person.

“Well, since you have a mutual friend and you live in the same neighborhood you potentially could bump into each other again. You need to do it in person.”

In the meantime, I took hours to call him back or ignored his text message. I acted disinterested whenever we spoke. His numerous text messages were filled with even more hearts, smiles and balloons, his voice was as upbeat as usual. He didn’t have a clue. Finally it was the day. I thought about canceling or sending him an email instead. I didn’t. I marched over to his home in the pouring rain each step with more dread.

He was freshly shower in a beautiful pressed shirt and oh so happy to see me after nearly three weeks apart. I felt like a bitch. He was a good guy, a generous guy, a pleaser with a successful company. He wanted to take me away. Why was I letting him go? I reminded myself that he drove me crazy and had an inferiority complex. He poured me wine, he asked if I was hungry and then he practically put me on his lap. Finally it was over.

I called my girlfriend on the walk home.

hostile-takeover-big-fish“It was 90 minutes of hell.”

“You stayed that long?”

I explained that I felt I had to. The guy had been through and awful divorce which came out of left field, he was having issues with his son and his best friend. Things were not good. I wanted to stay and answer his questions about why I was breaking up with him. I did what every woman i know wants, I gave him answers. I even brought him a chocolate muffins from the best pastry shop – a parting gift.

 

“Did he cry?”

“I saw him wipe his eye.”

“Was he hamming it up or holding it in.”

“I don’t even know but I ventured to guess he was crushed. It always hurts when it’s a surprise.”

As I was finally done and extracting myself from his couch he asked, 

“Do you find me attractive?”

What was I going to say no when I was breaking up with him? Truth be told he was tall, dark and handsome and went to the gym every day – not an ounce of body fat. So i said, Yes, of course. And then 0008-Sony-Artisans-of-Imageryhe leaned in for a kiss and asked,“So could we still see each other?”I kissed him on the lips and laughed. Not one to give up easily he asked, “Do you want me to walk you home?”

By the time I got home there was a text message from him. UGHHH!!!! The next time I break up with someone I’m sending a letter – not a text message or an email, a real letter with a stamp.

 

 

 

Update: He sent my a very expensive holiday gift from Saks and a large bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream.

The Lonely Yoni

I have a few other tricks up my sleeve while I wait the 12 weeks for the Premarin to kick in. My dear friend Tatiana had been telling me about classes she iss teaching and workshops she is hosting. They were for women — not specifically menopausal women, or even women in my age group, but I was curious. It was time to give her a call and see if she could help out.

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I’ve done yoga before with Rodney Yee and I’ve sweat with Bikram. (Interestingly enough both Yee and Bikram have been accused of sexual misconduct). I’ve had acupuncture. acupressure, reiki, Jin shin jyutsu, I have a mantra from the same guru as Elizabeth
Gilbert of Eat, Pray, Love fame.

So I’ve tried all kinds of things to get my life in order to manage anxiety anger health matters of the heart but I’ve never seen/consulted with anyone (other than my doctors) regarding matters of my vagina There’s a first time for everything!! I was excited and nervous and anxious that she would immediately notice my repressed and “in recovery Catholic girl” sexual energy or in my case, lack of sexual energy. This should be interesting to say the least,

Tatiana, the Love Gypsy, walked through the door of her studio. She is beautiful with a mane of wild black hair.  She resembles a young Penelope Cruz or Salma Hayek (see photo above). She exudes sexuality and feminine energy.  It seeps from every pore of her lovely body.  Although quite a bit shorter than myself, I immediately felt intimated by this beauty until she spoke.  She was kind and friendly and put me at ease all at once.  I knew I was in the right place and she could help.

Tatiana believes that every women, at any age, has the capacity to embody her femininity and awaken her sexual power.  She believes women deserve to feel confident, loved, and comfortable in her sexuality.  She leads women through a journey of self discovery and healing where you will learn how to active your inner goddess within.  You will learn how to connect deeply to your body and feel empowered with your sexuality.  She promises, if you truly desire to open yourself up to life, you have to be open to deeper levels of connection, intimacy and consciousness in yourself.

Tatiana’s workshops and classes are designed specifically to awaken you gradually and effortlessly.  The sensual awakening series combines dance movement with tantra yoga, pelvic floor techniques, breath-work, and gentle touch.  These sessions are designed to open and activate the energy center’s in the body.  Tatiana will teach you how to activate and direct your own sexual energy, so you can create and manifest your desires into reality.  Her workshops will allow you to develop a deep connection with yourself so you can become integrated emotionally, spiritually, mentally and physically.  You will not only experience a deep connection with your own self but you will then be able to deeply connect with others. When your creative sexual energy has been ignited, you will feel new energy sensations flowing through you.  The more you practice these techniques, the faster you will find your energy becoming integrated and aligned.

I was ready to begin my journey. Come join me!

Tatiana Dellepiane

http://www.sensualawakeningmovement.com

thelovegypsy@facebook.com

thelovegypsy(Twitter)

thelovegypsy(Instagram)

Menopause. Let’s Start the Conversation…

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I went to a new gynecologist today. I’ve traded in my senior citizen, Harvard trained Dr. Jew (I am not being disrespectful this is his name and no, he’s not Jewish) for a 30ish female this time. I told her why I was there from the get go. Who has time to waste? Since no one seems to be talking, let me share the deal and hopefully help you get a conversation started with your doctor. I shared with her my story of a Booty call gone awry. (See my previous post http://worldssmallestvagina.com/2015/05/07/dinner-and-a-booty/)

The conversation went pretty much like this:

“Any questions or concerns?”

“I had, or rather attempted, to have intercourse and the guy said, “it feels like there’s a bone in there.”

I told her about the pain, the dryness, my shrinking vagina and all about the disastrous booty call with my old flame. I had no shame. I was there to be helped.She was a good audience and laughed along with me (even though the story is pathetic and sad) and she considered what would be the best bet for me and my vag. (pronounced Vadge –rhymes with Madge)

“Oh, I’m sorry. What have you tried so far?”

I told her about my former doctor and his recommendation to get a dildo. (See link here. http://worldssmallestvagina.com/2015/10/22/the-d-word/ )
“I’m thinking an estrogen cream will help. The creams, versus the pills, have a very low estrogen level. It’s not the same as HRT or the patch. The cream works locally on the vaginal tissue. They have such low systemic absorption that even woman with cancer can use estrogen creams after their treatments. A lot of the atrophy you’re experiencing is really from the decreased levels of estrogen. What you’re really experiencing is loss of the elasticity. The cream will treat the actual problem. Then you can try the dildo and the lubes and all of that. None of them are helping the actual issue. The estrogen cream will change the tissue so the dildo and the lube will actually help.”

I left with a script for a mammogram (although I read only today the American Medical Association has now changed recommendations and another for PREMARIN http://www.premarinvaginalcream.com. I thought my new doctor would have recommended Osphena since Patty is all over TV describing it’s miraculous benefits.

images-1Apparently, my situation and many other women…. It should be working really well in three months. So by New Years Eve or there after I should be ready to get back on the horse. That gives me a hard deadline, but one I can work with, to find an appropriate mate. I’ll be sure to tell you how the cream is working out as well as my search for a man. Stay tuned!logo

Mets-turbation

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With the New York Mets in the World Series I just had to share this post from an older friend (who wishes to remain anonymous) about the first she masturbated.

The New York Met’s were in the World Series. It had to have been the late 1960s. I don’t think they ever were in the World Series before. A once in a lifetime event.My parents were not TV people. Or sports people. They read newspapers and drank.  I was sent to bed. My brother had also been sent to bed but he had a transistor radio. I was under the cool floral sheets with the fan on high (back in the pre A/C days for most folks in suburbia). I felt wet between my legs.Was it so hot that I was sweating? No. I thought maybe I had peed. I reached down and could feel the warm liquid. Hmm… that’s weird. Did I have an accident? I felt around and the juice increased. Was I peeing on my fingers? I pulled my hand out and sniffed my index finger. What was that smell? I bravely licked my wet pointer finger. It was salty but although I had never tasted urine, I was sure it was not. My hand went back to this mysterious source of moisture when my brother came running into my bedroom, the Met’s had scored, My hands were down my thick, white cotton panties.

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Even though every light on the upstairs level of our split-level house was off I was sure he saw what I was doing. He was older than me. I must have known I was doing something bad. Something weird.Soemthing dirty. Something I would surely get in trouble for. I waited for him to question me, to tease me, to report me to my mother, but he never did. And I never did what I did that night again. The Mets were my ticket to my budding sexuality and also the end of my sexual experimenting for close to a decade.

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My brother grew up and moved away to college. Years later, when I moved west to go to college, I was dying to order a masturbation book from the Book of the Month Club. Still embarrassed,  I ordered a bunch of books so the masturbation book wouldn’t stand out. I was going to learn how to really masturbate and have an orgasm. It took that book and a lot of hard work but I finally did. Over and over again. Sometimes when I’m alone I can still hear the tinny sound of my brother’s transistor radio and the crowd dheering.

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The D Word

images-1I went to the gynecologist soon after my failed attempt at re-popping my cherry.

“Since you’re not big on medication I’d say the way to go is lubrication (here we go again) and get yourself a dildo.”

I stood there in the ritzy office with my Harvard educated gynecologist and he just said the “D” word. I nearly died.

“Is that really the only option? Isn’t there something else? Physical therapy? Acupuncture? A specialist you could refer me to?”

“That’s really it, unless you want to try medication.”

I shook my head no.

“So a dildo it is.”

I nodded with a tiny, awkward smile about the size of my shrinking (yes, they really do shrink) vagina.

I walked home with my head down. I had to do this. I had to stretch things out and get back in the game. Sex was always an important part of my life. If I didn’t do anything now it would only get harder or worse, I might never be able to have sex ever again if my vagina continued to shrink and atrophy. What a horrible thought!

I went straight to my laptop and did a Google search. I have to tell you as I sat there researching I felt sick to my stomach. I was upset with myself for letting this happen. Who hasn’t heard the phrase, if you don’t use it you lose it. I never thought it would happen to me! I was angry with my body for letting me down. It also made me realize that I was alone. Single. Unattached. I would have to handle this on my own. I wondered if I had a husband, a boyfriend, or a lover would they be willing to help me sort out the mess I was in. Why wasn’t I in a relationship? My thought ran wildly in the wrong direction. Focus. Let’s figure this out!

I typed in dildos for menopausal woman and hit the return key and there it was, “sex toys for the menopausal woman”.  http://www.bloomenjoyyourself.com/sex101/sex-toys-for-menopausal-women-starter-guide

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I cringed. I normally like shopping. Even online shopping… this wasn’t fun! I read the text:

“If you are post-menopausal, approaching menopause, or just over 50, you have come to the right place. Our sexologists have outlined a few tips to keep in mind when you are picking out sex toys after 50. Your body is changing (or has changed) in a way that is different from when you were 20 and that can influence your choice of toys.

1. Start with Lubricant

After 50 our bodies starts producing a little less moisture than before, and that includes our vaginas and vulva.  Lubrication makes everything that much more supple and pleasurable.

2. Use Supple Toys

Find toys that bend with you.  Aging tissues tends to become thinner and less elastic.  This change can be challenging, especially when a slight bump that used to go unnoticed or may even have been arousing before menopause, might now cause a jolt of pain or discomfort.  Toys made with silicone are an excellent choice as they are both body safe (no phthalates) and pliable.  And yet they are firm enough to give the toy structure without being too hard.  Make sure to choose toys with smooth edges.

3. Use a Dildo (at least now and then):

The vagina needs a work out too — being massaged, squeezed and contracted.  This stimulation will keep vaginal walls active and will ward against thinning and drying by bringing rich and nourishing blood flow to feed the tissue. If you are not having intercourse with a partner, a dildo is an ideal option. Or if your partner’s erection is not always there, a dildo is an idea choice.

4. Strong Vibrations:

As tissue wanes and blood flow decreases, so can our ability to feel sensation as we did before menopause. We may need more stimulation to get the same nerve endings to fire.  Vibrators ramp up the sensation, increasing the intensity of stimulation needed to achieve orgasm without tiring a hand (or tongue).keep-calm-and-buy-sex-toys-6

Keep in mind menopause is a time of change, which means what you are experiencing now may change again tomorrow or next year.  Adopt an attitude of “go with the flow.”

What a friendly and informative site! I felt way better than I did when I left my doctor’s office. I was not a freak. And I was not alone after all. So I did it! I ordered a lubricant and a dildo. I’ve got this. Update to follow. Soon?

 

 

I Have a Boyfriend

no-cell-phones

Here is another great piece by my dear friend @AmyDetRiotGirl . Gotta love the honesty!

Sometimes men ask me why women are so scared to give our numbers out. I would think that the answer to this would be obvious, but since there still seem to be people out there who think that women are just being uppity or cold by not wanting to share the digits, I thought I’d share a few of my worst stories on this topic.

• “I have a boyfriend”

A friend of mine and I were waiting for a transfer one night out at Broadway Junction. He fell asleep on me, while I stayed up and played games on my cell phone. As I sat there minding my own business, a man approached me and said “hey baby girl, how’s you night?”

I said “it’s fine. I’m trying to beat this level.”

He said “oh well, if you want to stop for a minute, I’d really like to say hi and maybe get your number.”

I said “I’m in the middle of this level. I’m sorry, but I’m trying to concentrate right now.”

He said “girl, that’s just a game. I’m offering you something better.”

I said “no, really. I want to finish this level. And, anyway, I have a boyfriend.” as I pointed to my friend, who helpfully started snoring as he rolled over on my shoulder.

And, here it comes, the most dumbfounding response ever… “But, baby… HE’S ASLEEP.”

😳😳😳😳 ‪#‎AreYouSerious‬

Meet Rip Van Dinkle, Smallest Penis Contestant

 

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It’s that time of year again! The Smallest Penis in Brooklyn Pageant is scheduled for Saturday, June 13th at 2:30 p.m. at the Kings County Saloon in Bushwick, Brooklyn. We had the opportunity to speak with one of the previous contestants, Rip Van Dinkle, from the very first contest back in 2013. He was very candid. Keep in mind that this event most likely will be full house with lines down the block like past years. Get there early! If you can’t make it, also on June 13th, The Man with No Penis airs at 10PM on Discovery Life Channel. Turns out June 13th is a big night for the PENIS!

When did you realize you had a small penis?

I think probably about the same time most boys with little ones realize it: in the junior high school locker-room, where you can compare sizes to other boys your age.

Is your penis technically a micro penis?

No, I don’t believe so. I am just under two inches limp, just under three inches in girth. I’m no expert, but from what I’ve read the true micro penis is smaller than that.

Have you seen a doctor about this condition?

I have not really seen the need to see a doctor. A small penis can be embarrassing, but I don’t really think of it as a physical disability. Besides, plenty of doctors have seen me naked, and none of them (male and female) have suggested any sort of remedy.

Did women ever mention your small penis?

Not to my face. When I was getting divorced, there were some heated arguments with my ex, Amy, during which she accused me of being “unimaginative” or “unadventurous” or something like that, in bed, and I believe she implied that she’d had lovers with bigger penises than mine. I sometimes wonder if she thinks my participating in this small-penis pageant is “imaginative” or “adventurous.”

What did they say?

After the first pageant in 2013, there was a great deal of discussion about it in chat rooms and on message boards. I was startled to stumble on a site called “café moms” or “moms’ café,” something like that, in which my genitals became the subject of a lengthy discussion. One “mom” had posted a close-up picture of my groin (taken at the pageant), and left this comment: “Where are his balls?!?!” There followed a lengthy back-and-forth between women on the site, including medical discussion of the tendency of testicles to ascend and descend up and down between the scrotum and the pelvic cavity. Each time a woman would comment, that giant close-up of my balls would appear. The women all seemed to agree that my nuts were lacking (I can’t argue). Many of the women seemed to be having a good time, at poor “Rip van Dinkle’s” expense. But it was a surreal, bizarre experience to visit this bulletin board. I can’t imagine any of those women making those comments to my face.

To the best of my knowledge, I’ve never had a woman ask me, “Is it in yet?” Maybe they were just being polite. On the other hand, my penis is small enough that I’ve had it fall out of the vagina during intercourse, at which point the woman usually reaches down and inserts my penis with her hand. A more appropriate question at that point might be, “Is it still in?”

Did boys in the locker room at school/camp notice your small penis?

I’m sure they did, but I can’t honestly recall any insults (that was a long time ago for me). I do recall teasing of the boys with BIG penises.

Did they call you names?

If they did, I can no longer recall.

How did you hear about the smallest penis contest?

I read about it in The Huffington Post back in the spring of 2013. I thought, “I have a small penis, and this sounds like a hilarious blast. I should enter.” And so I contacted Aimee Arciuolo, the Kings County Bar manager who created the event, and she urged me to enter.

Are you local to the Brooklyn area?

No, I am from Minnesota. I fly in for the pageant. You don’t have to be from Brooklyn to participate. Last year’s winner is from India.

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Is this a fun event?

Extremely fun. If you want a better idea of the pageant, just Google it and you’ll find dozens of stories with pictures. Or you could check out my Tumblr page, but beware because I’ve included not-safe-for-work pictures there.

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Is it more about humiliation?

I think there are two kinds of people who attend the event: people who are anti-body shaming, who are there to celebrate us and have a good time; and people who enjoy seeing men with little peckers get publicly humiliated. The second group will no doubt enjoy this year’s pageant, in which judges are expected to measure our “manhoods” on stage and then announce the sizes. I don’t really have a problem with either group. It seems to me that women have been exploited in topless bars, wet T-shirt contests, etc. for many years, so if some women see this as “payback” in which we males are exploited, that seems fair to me.

If you visit some Facebook or Twitter pages in which the contest is being discussed, you’ll see that quite a few women say they plan to attend the pageant to “laugh at little dicks,” and to take pictures that they can share with friends. I did a podcast with a woman, Rachel Khona, who admits on her blog that she would never consider sleeping with a small-dicked man, and that she and her friend went to last year’s pageant just to giggle at little cocks and the men who have them. Again, this doesn’t really bother me.

I also have nieces and female co-workers, past and present, who could read about this and see the pictures of me. I suppose if any of them ever mention it to me, that could be an awkward conversation.

Did anything good come out of your participation in the event?

I took second place, so there was no money, and I immediately flew home to Minnesota, so there were no dates or media events for me. But I’m doing it again this year simply because it was so much fun. If you can deal with the after-pageant mockery in some Internet chat rooms, and countless pictures of your nudity on the Web, I highly recommend it.

Have you gotten any dates because of your small penis?

Lol, not really. I don’t think anyone here in the Midwest knows that I was in the pageant, and unless they have x-ray vision, they have no idea how small my penis is.

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I hear you are participating again this year. I guess you had fun last year!

Actually, I was in the pageant two years ago, the inaugural event. But yes, it was a blast.

What is the biggest struggle you have?

I have the same struggles that most people have, but I don’t believe that any of them are related to my penis size. For example: I’ve been trying to get a date with “Tiny” from this blog, but haven’t had any luck.

What’s the best part of having a small penis? And the worst?

If I’m being honest, I can’t deny that I would prefer to have a bigger penis. A lot of women say that small penises don’t bother them, but it can bother the man himself, psychologically. But it does get better as you get older. Twenty years ago I wouldn’t have dreamed of entering a contest like this one in Brooklyn. Now, I actually enjoy it.

If I have any penis-related issues, they have more to do with age than with size. It’s true, for example, that a guy my age has more trouble getting it up, maintaining an erection, smaller semen production, etc.

Name: John Haakenson (Rip van Dinkle in the pageant). Age: 57. Live in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Divorced, no kids. Freelance writer and editor.

Twitter –  @RipvanDinkle1

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/ripvandinkle

Tumblr – http://ripvandinkle.tumblr.com/

First Date Advice for Men

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I’ve had some really lame first dates even though I try to be really thorough screening potential suitors. Some people are great on the phone and via text. I’ve found you never really know if you did a good job until you spend an evening together. So here are some of my very random DOs and DON’Ts.

Never order venison on a first date. I do not wish to watch you eat Bambi.  (If you do, I promise there will be no second date/ Unless of course youa re Anthony Bourdain and then I would watch you drink kitten blood while you scarfed down foie gras.)

Do not talk about your ex-wife. I do not care. I may not even care about you by dessert.

Do not wear a dirty sweater. If you want to wear an ugly sweater that is your business. Dirty is unacceptable.

Just to let you in on a fashion tip, pleated pants have gone out of style.

Cut your nails before a date. Yes, even your pinky nail! A single long nail is not cool. It was never cool.

Brush your teeth. Remove any toothpaste residue.

Check your zipper before I arrive.

Do not wear sneakers if you are over the age of 12 and it is an evening date. Before 6pm is acceptable.

Do not schedule a date at 5:40 when you only have a block of 20 minutes between appointments.

Do not plan an “active” date ie. Samba dancing, golf, or a walk (anywhere) without mentioning it in advance. Quite often women wear high heels or have no interest in the activities your therapist has recommended to help ease your anxiety.

Do not talk about your ex wife. I don’t care.

I think it’s great you have kids. I actually love kids. Today I want to learn about you and see if I would like to have a second date.

Leave your phone in your pocket. Or if you cannot do that even for the duration of our date, mention you are expecting an important call or you need to be available in case your kids might call. I’ll feel better about it.

Do not compare me to anyone. You do not know anything about me yet.

Do not tell me a story about your ex bother-in-laws sister’s housekeeper’s foster daughter’s son who I will never meet. I DO NOT care.

Do not ask me about what I did after I graduated from college, It was decades ago. I have been at least five other women since then.

If it’s raining, snowing, hailing, or below 12 degrees do not offer to walk me home. I will be taking a cab and you will not be in it.

Please do not push me up against a cold granite wall, shove your tongue in my mouth and your hands down my pants. I am not bringing you home. We’ll maybe I would if it was the third date and I was really into you.

Naturally, don’t ever be rude.

When the check arrives. Do not throw the small leather holder with credit card in it to the waiter and yell, “Catch” at a Mario Batali restaurant. This might be approriate at a sports bar.

Don’t try to hold my hand.

Do not refer to your children as stupid.

Do not use the word cunt. Ever.

Sharing food is one thing. Eating off my plate is another. DO NOT put your fork, spoon, or chopsticks on my plate. I will pass you a taste in a sanitary fashion. (If I am sleeping with you, this is a different story.)

Do not try to get a peek at my breasts or my ass. I see you looking. Trust me, I have both and they’re damn nice. Let’s be honest, did you ever meet an ass or a pair of breasts that you didn’t like?

Do not tell me about your sexual exploits. It makes me ill. Well, maybe how you lost your virginity would be entertaining as long as it wasn’t last month.

Please wax your hands before date if they resemble a gorilla.

Do not talk about your ex-wife. (this is not a typo)

Thank you.

Dating Peter Pan

Wendy_saved copyright Disney  I had a first date on Sunday. The guy initially seemed really great; supposedly successful career, amicable divorce, son in college, and he had a dog. I like dogs. Although I wasn’t physically attracted to him (bald, glasses, pasty white skin and a terrible dresser) he seemingly had so many good qualities that I was hoping his appearance would grow on me.

Our late morning date consisted of a walk in a local park and a single drink (even though everyone ese was having brunch) at a well-known restaurant. It may or may not be important to mention that I think he only had tap water – he went up to the bar and brought the drinks back to our table so it’s merely an eduated guess. I should have realized thing were about to go south…

My date offered to walk me home. Having enjoyed the park and our easy conversation, I agreed. We went back to his place for a second to pick up his dog, Becky. I very comfortably followed him inside the vestibule.

“You’re coming in?” He sounded surprised.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just following you. I can wait here. I didn’t mean to be so intrusive.” Normally, I would never step foot into a man’s home unless I was prepared to have sex. This was different. It was a Sunday afternoon, I had only had a Perrier at the bar, I felt extremely comfortable, and I wasn’t feeling any sexual vibes whatsoever. I thought the dog would come running to the front door and we’d turn around and leave. That’s not what happened. My date invited me in.

There were no windows aside from the sliding door to the backyard. The room had plain, bright white walls. There were two pillow-less, worn couches, one blue and one cranberry, and a pair of non-matching distressed (from use not for style) cocktail tables. Everything seemed to be askew and didn’t coordinate in any such way. West Elm and Ikea were high-end compared to this stuff. Mind you, I have nothing against IKEA, I even have some pieces, but this apartment was so barren and boring and just plain weird. Yeah, I get that he’s a guy and most guys don’t have good taste but there were no books, no photos, nothing hanging on the walls. It was as though he just moved in – or a college student had just moved in. I found it weird that a 49-year-old who had resided somewhere for the last 17 years lived like this. Red flags were popping up all over. I wished they had been matching red throw pillows, a Rothko print, and a carpet instead of flags.

While my date got Becky’s leash I peered out the ancient, cracked, and broken sliding glass door to the saddest backyard I’ve ever seen. No trees, grass, plants or even a table or chair. It was a vacant lot for the dog to use as a toilet. I felt sorry for the dog. images-5

My date and his trusty pooch walked me to my corner. I knew we’d never see each other again. All the while I thought about the sneakers and baseball cap he was wearing, no offer for a meal, that horrible backyard, and his home. I wondered if I was an awful snob, impossibly ridiculous on finding a mate, and that was why I was still single. And then in that moment I decided I would not beat myself up. We were just not a match and that was that. Back to the drawing board. And then he went in for a wet kiss right on my lips. Heal, boy, heal.

 

 

TeamSingleForever‬

I have the most incredible friends. They are fun and funny, talented, kind, honest, loyal, silly, smart and well-traveled. They are from all over the world, every beautiful color you can imagine, a variety of religions and sizes. They not only make me laugh, but they encourage me to look at life from a slightly different angle. My friends are my rainbow. What they bring to my life is the pot of gold we’re all hoping to find.

I have been after my friend Amy to write a blog entry for me since before I launched The V Word Blog. I know she’s working on the piece – maybe it’s still in her head at the moment – but it will arrive at soem point.  I know one day I will click on my mail icon and there it will be sitting in my inbox. In the meantime, I have Amy’s permission to post one of her funny, and far too short, videos. World, please meet Amy!

See more from Amy @AmyDetRiotGirl on Instagram