By Invite Only

You Are Invited To A Housewarming Party!

2005-03-16T07:58:00.000-08:00

Hey! Y'all need to come on over and check out my new digs I'm not completely unpacked, but I just can't wait to have you all over!! I love, love, love my new place. Casual attire is encouraged, any and all gifts will be warmly accepted, and by all means, please bring a guest! People will be dropping in and out and so just pop in when you can. Can't wait to see you and show off my new home. Oh, and blogspot, it's been real.

Hop to it!

2005-03-15T07:22:00.000-08:00

Dear Easter Bunny,

As you may or may not be aware, Target has an abundance of Lindt milk chocolate bunnies and carrots. As always, you may keep the marshmallow Peeps where they belong...in the reject bin along with those disgusting, pathetic-excuse-for-candy orange circus peanuts, those peanut butter things wrapped in the black and orange paper that people try to pass off for Halloween treats, and the candy corn.

Yours,
lu

If You Show Me Yours, I'll Show You Mine

2005-03-12T09:01:00.001-08:00

I'm feeling really vulnerable. I'm throwing a spontaneous party here, and I'm afraid that either no one is gonna show or that when they get here, they will think it's totally lame and just duck out before I notice they stopped by. I promise that things aren't always this, yaawwwnnn, b-o-r-i-n-g around here--allow me to steer you towards some good stuff in the November archives. That's right, November. Seems making the transition from hot single mama to nearly married mama hasn't been very exciting for anyone but moi. In hopeful anticipation of having some new visitors pop in over the weekend, at the invite of Michele, just wanted to say hi! and ask that you please leave an email addy and a URL to your site so that I can be sure to bring some lovin your way.

Questioning my agnosticism

2005-03-09T09:10:00.000-08:00

I ask you, how could there not be a God when this past weekend's trip to Chicago to accompany K to the Ashlee Simpson concert was postponed? We found out that Miss Simpson will be making a stop in St Louis next month and so the good concert coordinators were kind enough to refund our tickets for the Chicago show to allow us to make the 80 minute round trip to see her rather than the 9 hour plus one. Cool! Plus, this gives me more time to score one of those Nexium t-shirts. K was only a little bummed about waiting for a few more weeks- I promised her an extra t-shirt purchase at the concert.

Spring break my ass.....

2005-03-09T08:17:00.001-08:00

Last Friday afternoon, I walked across a half empty campus, sun shining, nearly 70 degrees, past my fellow hard core (read, hope the professor takes note of our obvious commitment and assigns due extra credit) classmates who were all optimistically sportin flip flops, and smiled at all the feel good, we are so outta here spring break bound energy.

Cut to the weekend. Cloudy. Cold. Raining. Oh, well. As good an excuse as ever to catch up on some serious house cleaning. Finally put away the Christmas decorations...shut it, I *know* it is March. Ignoring the fact that it's supposed to snow later in the week, started packing up the sweaters and turtlenecks and pulled out my polka dot swimsuit and sandals. Got a hold of myself before I packed away the down comforters and flannel sheets. Dusted for the first time in, well, never mind. Sounds like a blast, right? Those kids down in Florida ain't got nothin on me.

With the weekend shot, and Monday morning fast approaching, I started making big plans for my week off. As the universe smiles upon me, the girl's spring break does not coincide with mine which meant that I would have an entire week to blog at my leisure, do a little shopping, catch up on a TON of reading I'm behind in (Ecology, Art History, and the influence of Darwinism on Victorian era literature--now why would I be behind with such stimulating material at my fingertips???) and write a paper that's looming---oh, and because I'm entirely unrealistic, I picked up two novels from the library that I have been eager to read. Go, lu, go!

Late Sunday afternoon, J started to get sick. You know how you can just tell by looking at your kiddo that something's not right. Perfect. No fever, it's just a cold, but she was miserable enough that I knew she wouldn't be going to school the next morning. I spent my Monday wiping a runny nose, administering OJ, and comforting an extremely whiney four year old. Between the two of us, I think we had four hours of good sleep the night before. Good times! By bedtime on Monday, she was 100% better and helping me pack her lunchbox for the next day.

I woke up on Monday knowing full well that I probably had 24 hours before I was going to feel like crap. Had the scratchy throat, runny nose, and stuffy head. Last night I was burning up and having the chills. J put her tiny hand on my forehead and said, "Sweetie, I think you have a fever. You might need to take some medicine. Want to share some of my grape stuff?" Awwww...how sweet is that? I have gone through two boxes of Puffs and woke up this morning looking and feeling as though I had the shit beat out of me. Puffy, swollen, purple eyes, red, sore nose, and achy, achy, achy. J presented me with a 'git wel' card this morning that featured several drawings of various animals. One of which I interpreted as a tortoise but was quickly corrected:

Mom, that is a hippo. Don't you see its brussel sprouts?

Brussel sprouts?

Yeah, you know these? ( impatiently pointing to her nostrils while rolling her eyes at her mother's obvious stupidity)

Me, smiling in spite of how bad it hurt my face to do so, Oh, nostrils.

Indignantly, That's what I said. Sprouts.

Perfection

2005-03-01T19:59:00.000-08:00

Reality smacked down fantasy--and it was wonderful. I confess to being *that* girl who takes the Gin Blossoms' lyrics to heart..."....if you don't expect too much from me, you might not be let down..." I cheat. I hate to be disappointed and so I don't really aim to high. It's not that I always expect the worst, I just never believe I'll really get the best. This past weekend was a pleasant surprise as I was served straight up perfection.

We arrived at the spa with time to spare before our massage appointment and so we donned our suits and slipped into the hot tub. We then wrapped ourselves up in our robes and headed for the meditation room, closed our eyes and drifted away. We were soon greeted by our masseuse team and enjoyed a very relaxing massage. We finished off our visit with some wonderful hot tea and then packed up and headed for our room.

Hmmm... two and a half hours before we needed to leave to make our dinner reservation. We could take a dip in the pool or.....well, what would you do if it were just the two of you, sans kidlets, following a sensual massage, in a hotel room that promised no interruptions? *Exactly*

Dinner was beyond fabulous. Wonderful atmosphere, great service, to die for food. It was a night of firsts for lu. I had the first of what promises to be my new favorite drink, a Midori Sour and for dessert, a creme brulee topped with berries. We took our time. We talked. We laughed. We planned. We remembered. I got a little tipsy, cuz, well, I'm a very cheap date and one drink is all it takes.

After a leisurely dinner we headed for the theatre to see Sideways. We enjoyed it but didn't realize beforehand that it was a black comedy. What? I didn't know Chris Rock or Martin Lawrence were in that. Uh, no stupid:

"Black comedy is otherwise known as black humour and possibly first appeared in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s in American literature. It is a dark comedy (hence black) and finds great humour in what most people regard as inappropriate subject matter. Black comedy mocks serious topics such as death and religion and makes fun out of various organised, logical aspects of our everyday existence. It is often grotesque and morbid"

The poster for Kingdom of Heaven was up and S commented that he was excited to see the film and was curious as to who was starring in it.

Me: Uh, honey, that's Orlando Bloom right there on the poster, larger than life.

Him: No way. I don't think it's anybody famous.

Me: It's Orlando Bloom

Him: Nope. Doesn't look anything like him. If not for anything else, you could rule him out as that is *definitely* not his nose.

Me: It is Orlando Bloom

Him: You need to stop smokin crack. I think you had one Midori Sour too much

Me: I only had one Midori Sour

Him: Exactly

Me: Whatever. That is Orlando Bloom

Him: OK, If you are right, I'll make sure you have 10 orgasms...

Me: Hmmm...we are talking about a 24 hour window, right?

Him: Yep, but doesn't matter because that is not Orlando Bloom

Me: Ooohhh, I can't wait to get on the internet and prove you wrong.

Needless to say, we are gonna have to cash in some of our I.O.U. babysitting certificates in order for me to collect my due. S doesn't seem to be too upset about his loss...probably cuz he knows he can knock it out in 3.5 sessions--I'm talented that way.

After the movie, we were tired, but content when we stumbled back into our room after midnight. As promised, our room had a wonderfully deep roman tub which I filled with lavender and surrounded with jasmine scented candles. We had a long, nice soak and then fell into our king sized bed. We actually got to spoon in the absence of J squooshed in between us.

It was perfection.

Now we can all sleep better at night....

2005-02-24T07:44:00.000-08:00

Just wanted all to know that I was wrong about my ex 'I'm-so-tortured-poet' boyfriend...turns out he did include an ode to moi in the form of a work that laments my inevitable descent into hell. Nice.

In other news, returning to college following a fifteen year hiatus has proved to be humbling in the least. Seems I'm not as smart as I remembered and all that cockiness and self-importance of my twenties was, well, just that. I'm having to study my ass off and because I was also sure that I was an excellent writer, I'm an English major who's shocked to find that it takes me a good three days effort to turn out an essay, research paper, etc., that's worthy of a generous B. That being said, just this past week I received feedback from two different professors who described my work as excellent and even outstanding. Really? That feels good but it certainly doesn't negate the fact that it took blood, sweat and tears to achieve their praise. This shit is hard!

On the plus side, the college experience this go around is certainly more fulfilling as I feel it is not merely a means to an end. I remember being seriously disillusioned with the establishment...having to earn a degree in order to get a job in order to make the money in order to buy the things.... I had an affinity for Thoreau (even though I couldn't get through Walden for the life of me) and dishearteningly thought I was just a part of the herd...that we were all brainwashed, missing the boat, wasting our lives, selling out.

I still fantasize about living a simple life....running away to the mountains, living off the land, armed with nothing but an endless supply of books and something to scribble my horrible prose on. The reality is that now that I'm a parent of two, it's no longer all about me and if I'm honest with myself, I'm not the nature goddess I like to imagine. Some friends have a lovely home out in the country that boasts FLYING roaches the size of your middle finger. I kid you not. I just can't see myself hangin up close and personal with things of the buzzing, creeping-crawling persuasion. Just as a sidenote, I am certain that I alone figured out that you can kill wasps, large spiders, and yes, even the occasional roach armed with nothing more than a can of Lysol. You rid your home of unwanted pests and at the same time eliminate 99.9% of germs in the said pest's vicinity.

Hey, is it me or do you look a little green? Thanks for all the birthday wishes and the ooohhs and aaahhhs over my goodies....it was a really good one. Oh, you do look so cute when you are filled with envy. Well, not to rub it in or anything but, guess what? Go ahead and ask me. My "fiance" and I are skipping town on Saturday morning to embark on a romantic spa weekend. We've got a fabulous room booked at a lodge complete with a Roman tub, a scheduled couple's massage, time to hang out in the jacuzzi and linger poolside, reservations for a romantic candlelight dinner, and a check out time of 11 the next morning. Sunday promises a late lunch followed by a little shopping and a four hour drive back home to our girls who we will undoubtedly be missing terribly at that point. I think the kidlets are more excited about our going away than we are as they have their own fun weekend ahead of them. Aunt L is coming over for a sleepover and the promise of a trip to the movies, dinner at their favorite Chinese place and pizza on Sunday--J keeps asking how much longer til we leave. It's times like these that I feel so loved.

What else? Oh, so I'm still on the fence about my new therapist. We have only had two sessions thus far but he made me cry the last go around and so if nothing else, he's been quick to figure out what buttons to push. There's that damn humility rearing it's ugly head again! Just when I was certain that all I needed to accomplish was to tie up some loose ends, I discover there are a lot more hibernating spots that have unraveled and can't be ignored at the risk of the whole f-ing thing falling apart. S and I have only met with our couple's counselor once as we aren't afforded a whole lot of flexibility with S's work schedule. We are working out the kinks and so hopefully we can commit to at least two sessions a month.

Hey, this will make you feel better. The first weekend in March will find me rubbing elbows with hundreds (?) of screaming, preteen fans of AshleeSimpson. Yep, K and I will be crusin down to Chicago in just days. Shoot, that doesn't give me much time to track down the Nexium t-shirt I am so gonna wear. Maybe I will get lucky and Ashlee will be stricken with an extreme case of acid reflux and we will get to just hang out at the hotel and nap by the pool. I'll say it again...I am the coolest mom ever and I really, really love my daughter.

To gain more points as coolest mom ever...Green Day is coming to St Louis in May and we got tickets! How my child gracefully hopped, skipped and jumped from Ashlee Simpson to Green Day within a matter of weeks, I don't know. She seems to think that by caking on black eyeliner it somehow brings her closer to her version of God...Billie Joe. It goes without saying that I had to explain to her that the energy at the Ashlee Simpson concert and that of the Green Day concert would be quite a bit different. At least I won't feel as ancient at this concert. Now that K has discovered that the lead singer of Green Day has a house in Berkeley, she's ready to move back to California. Not to put the cart too far ahead of the horse, but it could happen....another six years or so.

Of course, my four year old J wants to go to the Green Day concert too. She recognizes Billie Joe, Mike, and Tre and rocks out to their songs on the radio. Just the other day, she was hard at work on a crayon drawing of the band. Here's a tidbit of dinner conversation:

J: I'm gonna go to a Green Day Concert too

K: J, you can't go. You are too little. You would be the youngest person there.

J: K, don't break my heart.

K and I having a good laugh.

J: I'm serious. My stomach already hurts.

That's my J. Very literal that girl is.

Happy Birthday To Me!

2005-02-17T11:47:00.000-08:00

Here's the thing. My birthday is the day after Valentines Day and so I usually get gypped. The men in my life have always taken advantage of their good fortune and given me two-two-gifts-in-one---you know, one card, one gift, that says I love you and oh, by the way, happy birthday too.

Well, not this year!! My sweetie did it up right. It all started on Friday night when he arranged for a sitter, we got all spiffy, went out to dinner and grown-up drinks and finished the evening off by snuggling up in the theater and watching Million Dollar Baby. At the restaurant, he surprised me with a card that explained I was to receive one gift for the next four days...my five day Valentine and birthday celebration. Now, that's what I'm talkin about. He then presented me with my first gift:

Saturday morning I woke up, rubbed the sleepies out of my eyes, pulled on the hubbies baggy t-shirt, and stumbled to answer the front door. Who the hell rings your doorbell at 9AM on a Saturday morning? Glad you asked:

Cleanliness is next to godliness:

Day three of the valibirthday celebration was still in full swing. Guys, wanna know the real way to a woman's heart? Pay someone else to clean her toilets, mop her floors, and exterminate the dust bunnies. I checked my email on Sunday to find an ecard waiting for me with the news that I am now the ecstatic recipient of a bimonthly visit from a cleaning service. Woo-freakin-hoo!

Only a little spoiled:

So, how does one top a box of Godiva truffles, a dozen gorgeous, long stemmed, red roses, the gift of having someone else clean your toilets, and a heartfelt, seriously guaranteed to get your groove on cd compilation?

S wrapped up my valibirthday celebration by arranging someone to cover him at the hospital so that he could drive the 90 miles over to my part of town to share my special day with me. He apologetically offered up this to me:

Him: I'm not promising anything as far as my cake baking ability goes

Me: Oh, I'm sure it's yummy. You used a mix, no? *He knows my all time favorite cake is Super Moist Yellow Cake Mix topped with store bought Milk Chocoalte Frosting*

Him: Yeah, but I'm sure there is even a way to mess that up

Me: Cutting into the cake only to be met with some serious resistance as the knife hit the center What the hell?

Him: laughing You might have to get a little messy to get in there and find out what's going on

Me: Heart beating a little faster...You baked something into the cake?

Look what was excavated: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can't stop smiling.

Score!

2005-02-04T15:16:00.000-08:00

There are few things that rock my world more than the high I get from scoring a great deal/bargain. I have been on a roll the last couple of weeks...check me out:

*Copy-cat, wanna-be Pottery Barn desk that I had been coveting purchased at Target on clearance for $98 due to its box having seen better days...Woo-Hoo!

*Adorable, Esprit, powder blue raincoat originally priced at $110, got it for $34 at Marshall's

*100%, so soft I have gone to heaven, cashmere sweater for $40...thank you TJ Maxx

*Remember those foil wrapped Lindt Santa's? *insert me blushing here* 75% off baybee! Bought 24 pieces and as soon as I cashed out, wished I had snatched up the rest.

*Cuddly soft, slipper socks, 50% off...if you don't own several pairs of these, get yourself to Target and promptly right what is so obviously wrong with your world. They are like orgasms for your feet. Seriously, these are so awesome that while I briefly stepped away from my cart to peruse the greeting cards, a woman actually tried to lift mine from my cart! Caught red handed, she was all like, "Oh, I'm sorry...is this your cart? I thought this merchandise had just been abandoned"...what the hell ever! Back off biatch...slowly...slowly...step away from the cart. OK, not really. I was kind enough to point her in the direction of the endcap where I had generously left two pair.

I will not be ignored!

2005-01-27T07:51:00.000-08:00

I don't know how much my fragile ego can take in one week. I stumbled, (after a pathetic, long, drawn out afternoon of introspection and dredging up the past I googled an ex lover), on an anthology of poetry that an ex lover of mine wrote and promptly ordered my own copy via Amazon.

The book arrived and I frantically flipped through page after page to find nary a mention of me. I then proceeded to do a careful reading of the introduction and each and every poem. I tried reading with my left eye open, my right eye shut, my right eye open, my left eye shut, reading through squinty eyes, turning the book sideways and upside down, reading the pages as reflected in a mirror...still nothing. Nada. It's as though I never existed.

This wasn't a fling, damn it! We had an intense, romantic, passionate, and oh, yeah, completely fucked up relationship. What the hell? That's the stuff that poetry is made of! How about the three months we lived together...remember that? I was the one you fell asleep next to, the one who watched you sleep, the one you woke next to every morning? Poetry. Remember when we spent an entire afternoon picking wildflowers together and filled our entire apartment with them? Uh, poetry in motion. How about when you delivered a huge basket of strawberries to me after I casually mentioned that they were my all time favorite? What about the time you brought flowers to my little girl and let me sleep in while you made her pancakes? Any recollection of the hours on hours we would spend strolling through used book stores together treasure hunting? How about the times we would stay in bed on rainy days, light some candles, and read one another poetry? All those love letters, poems, shared books, music, art? All the stuff we were sure that mattered and our commitment to freeing ourselves from the riffraff....no television for us, no mainstream films, no faddish book of the month, no top of the charts music,...we were so off the beaten path.... defining ourselves and our own life. We were set apart. Hey, dude, what about that time I went down on you and you came so hard it shot through my nose? Uh, ok, maybe that wasn't a poem.

Whatever! When I get published, I am so not mentioning him. Well, except for the poem that will reveal in breathtaking stanza after stanza the wonder that was his curiously deformed penis.

I'll leave you with bits and pieces of his genuis. From his intro:

I hate poetry. Poetry is like giving birth: brutal, long, nasty. One seven-line poem can demand far more than fourteen hours to deliver. And then you are not even sure it's going to survive. But once the baby is born, a smug satisfaction follows. If the poem is beautiful, you weep. If it's ugly, you turn your back. But like every good mother, you still adore it.

I'll pause here for a moment. WTF? Ladies, evidently, *this* is what it would be like if men were to experience birth firsthand. All I have to say is that he has no freakin clue. I have yet to meet a mother who would explain the birth of her child in these terms. What a complete, clueless jackass. What's more, at the time he composed this piece of work, he was married and a father of two children.

......................

I might write more on this later, but for now I just feel sick. I'll skip to his last lines of wisdom:

Finally, I must be sadistic. I loathe attention. (uh, right. that's why you are putting your insides down on paper for all to read) I have mentioned it before, but I should have burned these poems. What I am doing by releasing this collection is perpetuating those memories and inviting criticism, praise. How dreadful.

Puhleeeaaassee.....

Dumped!

2005-01-27T07:30:00.000-08:00

Although she assures me that "it's not me, it's her" and that "this has been coming for some time", I still can't believe it's over. I mean, I feel like we have just now really established our intimacy....that she gets me. After an almost year long relationship, me pouring my heart out to her, divulging all my inner demons, my fears and insecurities, my hopes and dreams, ...I have driven my therapist into retirement. She's promised to see me three more times before completely washing her hands of me. I can't help but feel like this is merely break up sex...you know one last time to remember me by.

God, I hate this. Finding a therapist is a lot like dating. Have I mentioned how much I hate dating? It sucks. Remember the scene in When Harry Met Sally where their two friends are snuggling in bed together and the woman says, "Promise me I'll never have to be out there again" ? That is so me. Now I have to get back out there and not only find someone new I can click with but at the same time, I have to start.all.over so that they can grasp the complexity which is lu.

Why oh why can't I ever just find someone who will stick with me for the long haul? I want a true commitment, damn it! Where's a girl gotta go to find devotion? I feel so used.

Thin Ice

2005-01-25T15:06:00.000-08:00

The first tender shoots of my daffodils are springing up from the earth and while I get that same pang of excitement, that same joy that comes with their emergence, I also realize that it's January in the midwest which means it's very likely that the February/March snow will freeze the flowers before they get a chance to blossom. Our local weather expert predicts we will see 15-20 inches of snow before February rolls into March and although he can't seem to give us an accurate forecast for the next 48 hours, I still find myself resigned to the fact that regardless, the past doesn't lie. For as many years as I have lived here, we have never escaped the February snow dump.

I can't help but see a parallel between this and my personal life. As we push forward with our reconciliation, my estranged husband and I are both filled with the sense of renewal, our own spring, if you will. I struggle to find a balance. A way to let my heart be open and vulnerable, to give our love room to blossom, but at the same time to protect myself against the urge to surrender, to be bare, raw, exposed...

Wind in time rapes the flower trembling on the vine and nothing yields to shelter it - Fear by Sarah McLachlan

Awhile back I confessed to authoring some really bad poetry. Please forgive me for dumping it on you, but know that there is a method to my madness. To prove my point regarding the nasty habit the past has of rearing its ugly head, here is a poem I wrote to S several years ago and again, just recently:

Sleepless nights, tossing and turning in a sea of insecurities,
how I long to feel the comfort of your embrace, the
Reassurance of your kiss,
Your soul dancing with mine, tangled in hope, devotion, hunger-
Your beauty frightens me. Its lure invites temptation.
This seduction threatens our sweetest poem.

No promise whispered in the darkest of nights,
no tears collected on a virginal blanket of snow,
nor the most tender of kisses or most sensual
caress would murder my fears.
Crippling apprehension borne of betrayal and
Pain I cannot erase
I want to make you my life
Belong to you, but……..
I am so frail, my faith in love so weak,
please just hold me, let me fall softly into you,
You, my sweetest lullaby.

I laughed, I cried....

2005-01-25T14:20:00.000-08:00

You must go straight to Netflix, do not pass go, do not collect $200 and rent :

This awesome movie

I watched it *twice* and laughed even harder the second time through. Loved it!

Wet n Wild

2005-01-22T20:08:00.000-08:00

I am throwing my inhibitions to the wind and entering Genuine's Blogger Chicks Gone Wild Contest.

I was lucky enough to win a Genuine t-shirt not too long ago and so without further ado, brace yourself for:

lu's luscious wet t-shirt pic

Look Ma, No hands!

2005-01-22T19:45:00.000-08:00

My therapist has suggested that the hubby and I take things slowly with the attempt at a reconciliation. Once again, I am ignoring perfectly good advice and have opted to instead accept this gift:

Yep, I'm officially engaged to the man I'm still technically married to. It's sooooo sparkly!

Running With Scissors

2005-01-18T08:02:00.000-08:00

I am in love. There. I said it.

Being the superstitious gal that I am, I'm still not ready to shout it from the rooftops but I figure a little whispering around these parts is ok.

I have been dating this man for only a couple of months and I'm head over heels, no talking any sense to me, hopelessly, in love. He's a handsome, thirty-something doctor with a passion for music, films, cooking, photography, fatherhood, and well, me. He's also the very same just-this-close-to-officially-being-my-ex-husband of whom I've been separated from for the past year and the father of my four year old daughter.

I'll pause here for some of my readers who are near and dear to me to quickly make their way to the nearest exit. Do not read any further if you suddenly feel compelled to do any of the following:

*hurl
*roll your eyes so far back in your head that there's a danger of losing them
*utter any of the following: WTH?! WTF?! I love lu, but OMG, what *is* the matter with her?!
*mentally compile a list of people to call to form an intervention
*follow through with K's earlier proposal of borrowing a large tractor to plow down S

Wow, it sure got quiet around here all of a sudden. Is there anybody out there still with me? Anybody?.......................................................

Here's the thing. I should know better. I have had my heart stomped on, chewed up and spit out, in short, broken enough times that I ought to just adopt the first of many, many cats and call it a day. So how did he manage to turn down my cynicism (born from repeated betrayals over the course of our seven year relationship) low enough for me to hear what my heart was ever so softly humming? In a word, therapy. Lots of it. His and mine. I won't bore you with the details but suffice it to say that we are both very fortunate to have found competent and compassionate people to accompany us on our journey to becoming healthier, happier people.

To be sure, he had the advantage of knowing who the man of my dreams was and was able to rescue him from the dark and ugly place he had been imprisoned. He arrived with all the romance, sensitivity, sensuality, intelligence, tenderness, compassion, and creativity that I remembered from long ago, yet, he is not the same. He is strong, confident, self aware, humble, passionate, and most of all, honest. Honest about his past, his fears, his weakness--he's able to trust that I will embrace the whole of him and that I won't kick him when he's down.

With his new found health come new and wonderful surprises--- the chivalry I longed for, the ability to laugh, and the desire to love and be loved.

I hear a lot of "I can't believe you are giving him *another* chance" and that's ok. After a ten month long separation where a good 90 percent of the time I was sure I was doing the right thing, there are days I can't believe it either.

I have absolutely no regrets. When I left it was because, ironic as it seems now, that S finally gave me what I pleaded for all along...honesty. He was honest about the fact that he was not ready and/or willing to accept that his behavior was destroying his life and ours. He did not feel that he could get healthy in the context of our relationship. I left because S was not ready to fight. I see that he is now. I believe in him and as long as he continues to be honest and open with me about where he's at, I'll be by his side.

All I know is that it feels right. Right in a way it has never been before. It feels good. I am happy.

If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be too cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down. -Annie Dillard

I've been a bad, bad girl

2005-01-02T09:46:00.000-08:00

How did I, on the fifth day of my kidlet free week, kick off the new year? I spent the entire day lounging around on my sofa with five, count em, five men. Ted, Kyan, Thom, Carson and Jai...xoxox-- Bravo's Queer Eye For The Straight Guy marathon, baybee!

After my boys left me lonely and unfulfilled, I lit some candles, snuggled under a comforter, savored(***) what was left of the Lindt chocolate and watched a really, really bad movie, I, Robot. Admittedly, I'm not the world's biggest science fiction fan and although I do love me some Will Smith, this movie just sucked hard.

Still wasn't ready to turn in and so I returned to my computer to continue my duty as a fellow blogger and an informed voter for BOB to diligently read through the various finalists. Want to know what happens to a good girl like moi after reading through the nominations for The Best Sex Blog? Look no further than my Lindt chocolate tutorial....

I have got about 42 hours left and I've got big plans. Going to crawl out from underneath my rock today (have not left my house since Monday night!!) and visit the library, pick up some bread and fruit at the store, and if I'm feeling really ambitious, return some what were they thinking?? Christmas gifts.

**** The Official Tutorial to Savoring Lindt Chocolate:

Remember to take it slow...work your way from the top to the bottom. For the sake of illustration, let's use the foil wrapped Lindt Santa...slowly strip the foil wrapper down, just enough to expose the head, nibble off that first delicious piece, let it sit on your tongue and lose yourself in the sweet, creamy, chocolate as it melts in your mouth...you may be tempted to rip off the rest of the foil and shove Santa's girth into your mouth, but remember, slooowww, tease yourself...peel down the remaining foil and take the rest into your mouth. Mmmmmm....

I need a long, hot shower...

2004-12-30T13:06:00.000-08:00

Over the last couple of chicklet free days I have watched several grown up films:

Laurel Canyon
Kill Bill Volumes I & II
The United States Of Leland
Training Day

All of these left me feeling like I needed to lather up good and rinse with a good dose of the Wiggles or something to the equivalent.

I need a hug.

Ms Goody-Goody Two Shoes

2004-12-30T07:31:00.000-08:00

Around midnight last night, my angel demurely removed her halo and proceeded to kick my devils ass. It was fierce!

I dialed up the want-you-back-so-bad-and-will-stop-at-nothing-to-win-your-heart husband and we talked for a good two hours. Among many other things, I told him I was feeling lonely, scared, restless and, well, frisky and that I was very tempted to call my pal. We talked about what I see as a lack of sexual chemistry between us and he was able to take me back to a time where I was able to remember when his kisses made me weak in the knees. We both acknowledge how fabulous it is to be able to completely abandon your role as mommy or daddy (as we have been afforded during our separation) and share a night/morning with someone who wants nothing more than to rock your world. That being said, I believe that he (finally!) and I are on the same page. We both want what he describes as a connection on a deeper level. Niether of us is willing to relinquish mind blowing sex and so that means we, like every other married with kidlets couple we know, will have to get creative and find ways to take off our mommy and daddy hats long enough to- well, in short, make it about us.

I figured out some time ago that junk food sex wasn't really for me and that although my friend is awesome in bed, there was little else going on between us... it wasn't until last night that I was finally able to admit that I am a junkie. My pal was a quick fix, a band-aid, a rush, a high, a space filler, a low risk recreational drug. So it follows that it's no surprise that I would find myself fighting the urge to call him up on the heels of spending a whirlwind month with my ex. Until these last few days, I have had little time to stop and catch my breath...to ask myself what I'm doing, what I want, does this feel good?

It's been extremely difficult to set aside my cynicism, some would argue, common sense, (insert image of me here, covering both ears and loudly sing-songing la-la-la-la-la...I can't hear you) long enough to believe that a committed relationship built on trust and intimacy with this man is indeed possible. Our past points to a big fat NO but there *is* something different about him. It's intriguing enough for me to want to get back on the ride albeit with a helmet and a seatbelt this time. Did I mention that I'm scared out of my wits? I am going to hold on for dear life but keep my eyes wide open and I am *not* going to call my pusher to somehow anesthetize the whole experience.

Anyway, turns out that honesty is incredibly sexy and I'm still way hot even in flannel pj's. Oh and my angel, in all her glory, has dusted off her wings, donned her halo once again and is keeping the devil's horns as an, uh, souvenir.

102 Hours and Counting....

2004-12-29T10:40:00.000-08:00

Why oh why is it always so much harder to be good rather than bad?

*Nice-- Have not called the friend

*Naughty-- Have not decided what I will do if he happens to call me within the next 102 hours

*Nice-- Removed fire engine red polish from my toes

*Naughty-- I still have two bottles

*Nice-- Decided a mini workout might relieve my excessive sexual energy

*Naughty-- Put on sexy music and danced in front of the mirror...also, ignored the reminder that exercise releases all those damn endorphins

*Nice-- Talked to my husband on the phone last night and said my "me too's" in response to all his I miss you's and Can't wait to see you

*Naughty-- Slept in my black underwear

*Nice-- Slept alone

*Naughty-- Fantasized about *not* sleeping alone

*Nice-- Will bury black underwear in bottom of hamper and don flannel pj's tonight

*Naughty-- Traded black bra for equally naughty red one

*Nice-- Will wear a shirt over said bra today

*Naughty-- Have spent lots of time thinking about friends full, lucious, perfect lips...why does he have to be so yummy?!

*Nice-- Reminded myself that my friend smokes ( while my we-were-on-a-break-but-now-we-aren't (?)**husband** always has wonderful, fresh breath) which cuts into the fact that he is a fabulous kisser

*Naughty-- Have asked myself repeatedly would it really be so wrong? Damn, I should have had him teach me that one really delicious trick he knows

*Nice-- Have consistently answered myself with cheating is wrong. Period.

Here's where you come in. Choose a side. Join the little pitch fork wielding devil on my right shoulder or hop on over to the left side with my halo wearing sidekick.... Any and all suggestions as to how I can keep it together for the next 100 or so hours would be much appreciated. I need distractions!!

Here's all I have got so far (some of which are not especially appealing):

*Watch Kill Bill Volumes I & II at the suggestion of my **husband**

*Clean out my so desperately needs it garage

*Return Christmas gifts that were the wrong size, wrong color, or overall, just wrong

*Stop listening to that damn Maroon 5 cd...especially track nine

*Paint my toes a nice pink color

*Stay away from what's left of the Lindt chocolate

*Read The Catcher In The Rye (I haven't yet!)

*Read High Fidelity at Chris's suggestion

This is the part where I feel guilty...

2004-12-29T01:36:00.000-08:00

Well, only a little. After all, I'm only thinking out loud, haven't done anything *yet* I received this email tonight.....

Have you seen my wife? I miss her something terrible.
Cute, with strong cheekbones and freckles.
Kissable neck, wry smile. Curvy like a 1950's pin-up
girl. . . If you see her, just tell her. . . I
miss her. . . and I want to make love with her. If
it's not too inconvenient for you.

So, I have this ahem friend.....

2004-12-28T19:08:00.000-08:00

Yeehaw! My therapist is in Colorado and I'm on my own. Buckle up, baybee! Oh, so about my friend...she's been separated from her husband for about 10 months now with absolutely no regrets. Felt sure she was making the right decision as they had shared a very bumpy ride over the five plus years they shared with his repeated infidelities topping the lengthy list of reasons why their marriage fell apart.

It was the week before Thanksgiving when he shocked her with his confession of still being madly in love with her and asking her to consider the fact that he is a changed person. He's sent her gorgeous flowers, serenaded her (uh, that was weird), made her dinner, painted beautiful pictures of a future together, bought her a car, promised her fabulous trips, granted her time and space, expressed his newfound devotion to her, etc. etc. I just don't know what to tell her. Part of me thinks that now that she's found herself, really digs herself, that she beleives he sees that too. How could he not be in love with her? That she is so freakin awesome that he would be crazy to, having been given the opportunity to be loved by her, ever even think of cheating again. I'm guessing that the holidays played into her decision making as well. This would have been a very difficult time...the first year spending Christmas as a single mama with two daughters while all the while being surrounded by images of happy, whole families.

As it stands now, they have decided to continue to visit their individual therapists as well as see someone together....couple's counseling. As they stumble back into being a couple, they have haphazardly resumed a sexual relationship. She says there's no fireworks there but hopes thats because it will take lots more time to build trust and intimacy. I'm not so sure.

See, during the separation, she was seeing this friend of hers for a couple of months and the sex was phenomenal. She craved him, he knew how to kiss her, touch her, he wanted her in his arms all night...had to be touching some part of her body while he slept, he was so into her, in a way she could very much recognize. Sex with her ex is not like that and really never was. When he kisses her, there's nothing stirring inside. She wonders if maybe the sex with her husband just wasn't that exciting because, well, he was her husband. All couples get to a place where (especially with kids) they would trade a night of sex for a full eight hours of sleep, right?

The plan is that they will continue to live separately but spend weekends together as a family and carve out niches of time to spend as a couple. She has been promised the best of both worlds....she can have her cake (OK, more like cupcake for those of you who are privy to the inside joke) and eat it too. There is talk of trips to Disneyworld, Hawaii, vacations to CA to visit old friends, and more financial security than she could ever imagine. The only thing she will be giving up in her current lifestyle is dating. And well, frankly, she was never too excited about dating anyway, BUT, well, that brings us to my friend's dilemna in the very much here and now...meaning this week while she's left to her own devices....

She felt she had to do the right thing and be honest with her friend about what was going on. He, as always, was very supportive and wants nothing but her happiness. They haven't seen one another for the past five weeks. She's having a really hard time not calling him right now. She finds herself wishing that they could have one last night of fabulous sex....assuming he would agree to that and that she would somehow find it ok to cheat--because she would be cheating, right? I told her that it doesn't somehow wash that because her ex cheated on her, she could do the same.

She says she doesn't really know what to think...what to hope for...what she really even wants. She's happy for the week or so she's been afforded (her ex is visiting family and has taken her kids along. She's obviously feeling really conflicted...confused, scared, and by indulging in fantasies of calling her friend, I believe that on some level she might be trying to intentionally sabatoge any hopes of a true reconciliation with her ex.

The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly

2004-12-28T18:27:00.000-08:00

Where oh where has lulu been? You might be sorry you asked.....

The Good:

*I finished all papers and finals and left the fall semester behind me with an A and three B's

*I received yet another * bouquet from not so secret admirer...this one was white roses and lilies and just to die for gorgeous

*"Santa" brought me a fully loaded Honda Pilot in red for Christmas

*As of yesterday, I am responsibility free (no kidlets, no school, no studying, no nothing) until January 3rd

*My computer is in somewhat working order

*I am seriously grooving on the cd I found in my stocking...Maroon 5's Songs About Jane It's very sexy

The Bad:

*I was expecting two A's but I guess the B I got in Biology rather than the C I was certain I would get evens it all out

*The not so secret admirer has got me tangled up in knots

*The SUV is somewhat contingent (not really said, but understood) on my deciding to have an exclusive sexual relationship with "Santa"

*As of yesterday, I am responsibility free (no kidlets, no school, no studying, no nothing) until January 3rd *note* this could mean me getting into more trouble than I'm already in....I'll explain later.

*While visiting "Santa's" lair, I stumbled over a letter from a jewelry store that indicated that I might be receiving some diamonds in the near future...in the form of an engagement ring. Can one be engaged to someone who one is separated from?

*My computer crashed big time and I just got it in somewhat working order yesterday

*Isn't Maroon 5 a *gasp* "boy band"?

The Ugly:

*I sorta agreed to the exclusive sexual relationship with "Santa"

*I have spent my first day of freedom baking a cake, whipping up a chicken pot pie, grooming my bikini area, shaving my legs, painting my toes, walking around in nothing but jeans and a black push up bra, eating all the Lindt chocolate icicles that I stole out of my girls stockings (hey, in my defense, good chocolate is wasted on the young...they would gladly trade for Reeses peanut butter cups).....hold on, I gotta go snag another right now....Ok, I'm back...these are so goooood! And since I'm being bad and somewhat ugly right now, I will point out that as they are shaped like icicles they are very phallic and are contributing greatly to my overall feelings of naughtiness. Uh, where was I?

*The admirer is over 2,000 miles away right now and won't be returning until January 3rd

*In some twisted way, I am somewhat excited about the idea of wearing an engagement ring

*I have this friend who, well, I'll just put it another post....meet you over there.

For Mature Audiences Only...

2004-12-03T16:38:00.000-08:00

So, all this talk about sex and more specifically, "casual" sex as of late has got me to thinking. My friend and I just don't see eye to eye. He says sex is simple and I say it's anything but. I am more than a little turned off that he "approaches sex with each and every partner the exact same way". Wow, now that is sexy. Not. We have agreed to disagree.

I like what Tom Robbins has to say:

"There is lovemaking that is bad for a person, just as there is eating that is bad. That boysenberry cream pie from the Thrift-E Mart may appear inviting, may, in fact, cause all nine hundred taste buds to carol from the tongue, but in the end, the sugars, the additives, the empty calories clog arteries, disrupt cells, generate fat, and rot teeth. Even potentially nourishing foods can be improperly prepared. There are wrong combinations and improper preparations in sex as well. Yes, one must prepare for a fuck-the way an enlightened priest prepares to celebrate mass, the way a great matador prepares for the ring: with intensification, with purification, with a conscious summoning of sacred power. And even that won't work if the ingredients are poorly matched: oysters are delectable, so are strawberries, but mashed together...(?!) Every nutritious sexual recipe calls for at least a pinch of love, and the fucks that rate four-star rankings from both gourmets and health-food nuts use cupfuls. Not that sex should be regarded as therapeutic or to be taken for medicinal purposes-only a dullard would hang such a millstone around the nibbled neck of a lay-but to approach sex carelessly, shallowly, with detachment and without warmth is to dine night after night in erotic greasy spoons. In time, one's palate will become insensitive, one will suffer (without knowing it) emotional malnutrition, the skin of the soul will fester with scurvy, the teeth of the heart will decay. Neither duration nor proclamation of commitment is necessarily the measure-there are ephemeral explosions of passion between strangers that make more erotic sense than many lengthy marriages, there are one-night stands in Jersey City more glorious than six-months affairs in Paris-but finally there is a commitment, however brief; a purity, however threatened; a vulnerability, however concealed; a generosity of spirit, however marbled with need; an honest caring, however singed by lust, that must be present if couplings are to be salubrious and not slow poison." - Still Life With Woodpecker

As a girl who had a seven year marriage to her high school sweetheart, separated and stumbled on love three months later that was an emotional rollercoaster of cohabiting, breaking up and making up to the tune of less than a year, followed by a crash into *the lust of her life that resulted in a pseudo marriage of a year*, and a two month break before finding herself in a year long engagement and a marriage that barely held on for four years, I really don't know what I'm doing out here. It's also obvious that I don't know how to construct a sentence, but more on that later. I'm a serial relationship artist with absolutely no dating experience. I don't know how to play the field and frankly, I'm not interested. When I'm truly hungry, I never crave junk food....I want the real stuff. Is it just me? Am I way off base here?

*see before mentioned friend with the simple outlook

Ouch!

2004-11-19T06:11:00.000-08:00

One of the great ironies of the co-parenting schedule that my baby's daddy (that makes me feel so deliciously white trash) and I share is that one of my kid free weekends coincides with the arrival of, all things being right in the world, my period. My friend with benefits is well aware of this and the sabbatical that comes as a result of my feeling very non-sexual during Aunt Flo's visit. Nevertheless, he thinks I have a great personality and still finds the idea of hanging out with me attractive even without the promise of me rocking his world. So we made plans to get together on Saturday evening and watch a movie.

As a result of a very stressful week, Aunt Flo's train was delayed and we were treated to a bonus night. After a fantabulous sleepover, I woke to find that my pal had been awake for some time and was watching me sleep. What the hell??!! He then proceeds to breathe out in a heavy whisper:

"Beautiful"....

me: Don't do that.

him: Don't do what? I said, bowlfull...bowl full of Froot Loops, please...

We laughed it off, but I am more than a little taken aback. I just can't handle this. This....tenderness. He wants to do things like rake my leaves and clean out my garage. Uh, no. He better damn well not be falling in love with me. I do *not* love him. Maybe I have been kidding myself....wanting to believe that it was possible to pull this off. I cannot handle the possibility that I might break someone's heart. I have called a time out. He doesn't know this yet as I'm too much of a coward to tell him...yet. I told him that I was going to have the girls for the next few weeks because my ex is visiting relatives for the holidays. How bad is that?

Sex is complicated--who knew?

My biggest fan

2004-11-11T20:49:00.000-08:00

My 12 yr old daughter has been privy to the ex's attempts at a reconciliation over the last few days and she felt compelled to email me her thoughts tonight...I just don't know *where* she gets it.......

Mom,

You should know by now that you are the coolest mom ever, (god lord my friends even like you) and you also know you are pretty much the best everything in my opinion. So just to let you know, LT is making a good choice in his life to want you back, god who wouldn't?!? you are an awesome mom, you cook really good (heehee) and im pretty darn sure you where an awesome wife.

The thing is, no matter how good it is that LT is realizing how stupid he is, and seeing that you are the greatest thing that ever happened to him, HE DOESEN'T DESERVE YOU. Mom, your supposed to be with someone who will be honest with you, kind to you, romantic, sweet, and someone who in the case of a breakup, won't e-mail you saying they miss the smell of your lotion. [uh, this really did happen, she's not making it up] You are so much better than that idiot, and I hope you never think twice. He wants you back because he can't stand feeling alone, he wants you back because he realizes that right now you control him, (since he "misses" you so much) he wants you back because for the first friggin time in his life, he has to feel self doubt. Now, does that sound as pitiful and puppy dog sweet when you break it down like that??? didn't think so! like I said, HE DOSEN'T DESERVE YOU.

No matter what that will always be the case, I don't care if he suddenly looks like johnny depp, and writes like John Mayer, his idiotic personality, and his boastful opinions of himself will never be worth it.

I can't tell you what to do, I can't tell you to never talk to him again, but I can tell you that if you got back together, I would be calling Jerry Springer by the second week of your realtionship. SERIOUSLY, what does he think, that you guys would get back together and then everything would be okay? That I would just treat him like a step father again? Because if he is, you can tell him I say definatly NO, NADDA, NOT HAPPENING, NO FRIGGIN WAY!!!! Seriously I could never care for him again, you could never feel trusting and everyone in our family would most likely join me in a plot to get all the largest tractors to run his stupid head over!!!

I find it quite stupid that he's trying to win you back by telling you about how good your lotion smells, and making you some gay heart covered cd, now im sorry for using this without talking about the place but, WHAT THE HELL? Ok, im sorry, but I find it appropriate for me to "cuss" when speaking of something so obviously stupid...you know im not sure he even deserves to be cussed at, maybe i'll just spit on him sometime..yeah right in the eye...heheheh. I'm really sorry you had to put up with that freak as long as you did, but at the same time I admire you for not killing him and going to hang with Martha Stuart, I know I would've. Mom just tell him, "I'm tried of all your lame excuses of why i should come back, after all Nothing could make the fact that I could never trust you be ok." see it's that simple, then just spit on him, step on his foot, spray some body lotion in his face, and throw his stupid cd at him.

Mom, the fact of the matter is He's an idiot your not, you choose to be with him again I might re think that but as of now, I think your doing what's right. Love your sidekick in training, K

Did I mention she's only 12???

What does it all mean?

2004-11-11T11:37:00.000-08:00

The ex is really putting forth an effort, I'll give him that.

Although he is a really good writer, I have been guilty of reading between the lines and turning what might otherwise have been really beautiful into a cynical, less than romantic sentiment. That being the case, he has instead chose to pull at my heart strings with music.
Although, this is not something new. Our entire courtship revolved around my writing him really awful poetry and him answering in cd's burnt to perfection.

In fact, I remember listening to one compilation non-stop at a time when I was hopelessly infatuated with him. I fantasized that he spent hour upon hour carefully choosing each selection....wanting it to be perfect...deciding that each and every lyric spoke to me, about me, his hopes and dreams for us. Yes, each cd was an ode to lu.

Here's the latest...what do you think he's communicating?

Enveloped in a pink jewel case engraved with a heart:

Remember When It Rained [Josh Groban]
Hallelujah [Jeff Buckley]
Simply Beautiful [Al Green]
I Never [Rilo Kiley]
Dice [Finley Quaye]
Jewels [Alison Krauss and The Cox Family]
I Do [Jude]
Your Love [Eve and Wyclef Jean]
In A Funny Way [Mercury Rev]
Rattlesnake Charm [Sean Hayes]
Into The West [Annie Lennox]
Drive [Ziggy Marley]
Waited Up [The Samples]
Trouble [Coldplay]
Reach Out [The Four Tops]
Prince Caspian [Phish]

What fresh, effing hell is this?

2004-11-09T19:17:00.000-08:00

As I eagerly await Genuine's advice as to what makes men tick, I find myself mulling over the events of the last few days.October marked my eight month anniversary of being single and I am feeling pretty content with the new life I have created for myself and my kidlets. So I guess the ex took that as his cue to come in and stir things up a bit.

My mommy free weekend came to a close on Sunday evening when he dropped our daughter off. As he came in the front door, he noticed this book on my coffee table.

"Oh, he said with a smile, what do you think of that?"

"I haven't even started it yet"

"It's a pretty provocative read"

"A friend of mine gave it to me and asked that I read it. He says there's a reference to Collinsville, IL".....

Oh, shit. "A friend" "HE" ...great. Nice going, lu.

"Listen, I know now is probably not the best time for us to talk but I need to tell you that I am still very much in love with you and want to be with you"

OK, I find it more than a little suspicious that he professed this to me on the heels of my faux pas seeing as in the whole of the past eight months he has never felt the need to express his undying love. In fact, it was only a few weeks back when we were discussing the details of our divorce-in-progress that he reiterated that he thought we were "doing the right thing."

After I recovered from the initial shock of his revelation, I started doing the math.
A=me
B=boy who's my friend
C=the man who no longer desired to be married

A+B=C's epiphany that I'm the best thing since sliced bread

God help me, I agreed to have a phone conversation with the ex where he profusely rejected the accuracy of my equation. He assured me that he had been for weeks trying to muster the courage to tell me how he truly felt. He said his intuition urged him to "do it now or never"....

That even without me slipping up and referring to my friend as he, he knew something was up as "that's not the kind of book a friend just randomly passes on....it's very sensual and if someone asked you to read it, you can be certain they are interested in being more than friends"...

He says he wanted to wait until more time had past so that I might find the changes he's made in his life since our split more plausible, but he panicked at the realization that "if he waited too long it might be too late."

During the last 48 hours, I have received love letters (The day I’m certain that you and I will never be together again will be the realization of my life’s greatest mistake) , pleas (let's slow down the divorce process) , and promises (I want nothing more than the opportunity to prove to you that I have changed) .

So, was it really an oversight on my part in leaving the book on the table?

If not, what was that about? What were my true motivations?

Why do I feel strangely powerful?

Why do I feel as though I'm kidding myself that I am powerful and that instead, I'm playing with fire?

Oh, and why am I asking you all of this?

Son of a ...

2004-11-08T17:37:00.000-08:00

Does anyone else have problems with links in their posts? I don't get why fifty percent of the time I am successful and the rest of the time I suck.

Trying again.....
Genuine

Dear Readers..

2004-11-08T17:25:00.000-08:00

A huge thanks goes out to Genuine for sending some much appreciated traffic my way. If by chance you stumbled over here by accident, you will most certainly want to pop over to G's place and check out his stylings. I feel compelled to point out that I am not responsible for writing the eloquent booty call contract but that it was my partner in crime who received it as an email attachment and passed it along to me. I found it so hilarious that I was justly inspired to share it with all of blog land.

Thank you so much for the witty comments and the warm welcome. I am very excited about getting to know each of you better.

Feelin the love,
lulu

Double Header....pun intended for your pleasure

2004-11-07T13:57:00.000-08:00

Booty Call Contract

THIS AGREEMENT SHALL COVER THE FOLLOWING RULES AND PRINCIPLES:
1. No sleeping over -- unless it is very good and we need to repeat it in the morning.
2. No meeting in public except for dinner or drinks before the events of the evening.
3. No calls before 9 PM - we don't have anything to talk about.
4. None of that "lovemaking" stuff -- only sex allowed.
5. No emotional discussions (i.e., Where are we heading with this? Do you love me?) The answer is no, so don't ask.
6. No plans made in advance -- that is why you are called the "backup," unless you are from out-of-town, then it's only a one-time advanced arrangement.
7. All gifts accepted -- money is always good.
8. No baby talk -- however, dirty talk is encouraged.
9. No asking for comparisons with former lovers -- it's really none of your damn business.
10. No calling each other "friends with privileges" we are not friends, just sex buddies.
11. Calling out the wrong name during sex is OK - don't be offended.
12. No extra clothing - I don't want you leaving anything behind when you leave.
13. No falling asleep right after sex -- it's over, so get up, get dressed and go home.
14. Don't be offended if I don't ask if you enjoyed it - I don't care.
15. You cannot borrow my car for any reason.
16. If anyone asks who you are, the standard response will be: "My cousin."
17. Doggie style is the preferred position -- the reason is less eye contact the better.
19. No glove, no love. Go home.
20. Bring your own drink - I am not your liquor store.
21. No phone use, please -- don't want anyone calling back looking for you.
* EXTRA TIP FOR SUCCESSFUL BOOTY CALLS:
The aforementioned rules may only be altered by the holder of the agreement. If the other party attempts to change or alter any terms of this Agreement, it will automatically become null and void and you will then be removed from the BOOTY CALL LIST and deleted from phone memory and email list. In other words, you will be BLOCKED from all communications until you understand the rules.
Participating Party
Signature_______________________________________ Date: ________________
Participating Party
Signature_______________________________________ Date: ________________

We, myself and the boy who's a friend, have managed to successfully violate several items in the above noted contract. To our defense, we aren't really breaking rule number one, as it really *is* that good. As for number six, we hardly have a choice as I for one have a life and we must schedule our playdates around it.

I am blessed with two weekends a month of time that's all about me, me, me and I have been keeping my commitment to set aside Friday evenings to pamper myself with a pedicure, a long bath, a good read, and some journaling. However, this particular Friday I was feeling spunky and so I called him and we decided to go for a two nighter.

We didn't get much (any) sleep on Friday night and I only felt a little bad about the fact that he had to be up and on his way to work at 7AM Saturday morning. We decided we would both squeeze in a nap before hooking up again at our regularly scheduled time on Saturday evening. The nap didn't happen for either of us and so we found ourselves in bed making like it was a school night. Well, we really did think we were tired and ready for sleep until we got into bed. We woke up at 9am and got out of bed at, ahem, noon. I am exhausted, but in the best kind of way.

Mornings are always a little strange. It's one thing to be letting it all hang out with candlelight and shadow play as your stage but it's just not that sexy when morning rolls around and your sportin pillow face and eye crusties. And isn't it weird that I care?....we lived together for over a year, it's not like he hasn't seen it all before. He finds great humor in the fact that I do care ( as he assures me that I am "beautiful") and that I religiously practice a morning after de-sex-isizing ritual. I first brush my teeth, followed by changing my not-smelling-so-much-like-lavender-anymore sheets, open a window or two, dispose of all "candy wrappers" in the trash can outside, and take a nice, hot shower. What? Doesn't everyone practice something to this effect?

Sex is messy and try as I might, I can't do a clean sweep every time. We made the fatal mistake of communicating what we were thinking before the fog of orgasm had lifted...not to worry, we did not violate number five of the contract by uttering the "L" but we both know we came pretty damn close. Before he left this morning, uh, afternoon, we made our best attempt to push what we could back under the rug. This might not turn out to be as simple as I hoped. Dammit! Why do we have to like each other so much?

First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes...

2004-11-06T14:33:00.000-08:00

Jay got me to thinking about my status as a suddenly single and I've started weighing in the pros and cons as I find myself an honorary member of the twice divorced club.

Single vs Married:

Being single means I always have to take out the trash. It also means that the trash goes out before it reaches its half-life.

I don't have to shave my legs and with all the money I save on shaving products, our family can afford to go out to a movie once in awhile. Wait, I didn't shave my legs when I was married either.

Being single means I'm solely responsible for managing the finances, meal planning and preparation, shopping, vehicle maintenance, planning and organizing the girls parties and activities, arranging child care when needed, staying home and taking care of sick kids, making and following through with holiday traditions, taking my children to doctor and dentist appointments, laundry, yard work and household chores, making sure their are no monsters underneath beds, killing spiders, washing hair, reading bedtime stories, wiping tears, butts and noses (in no particular order), etc. etc. Wow, whatta ya know, *I* held that same position while being married too....the difference being, with one less person to take care of now that I'm single.

I *never* have to listen to the screetch of basketball player's shoes on the court, the drone of the crowd, someone yelling obscenities in my living room, or some annoying as hell sports announcer.

Being single means my sheets smell like lavender instead of ass.

Being single means a quick wipe of the bathroom sink each morning takes care of toothpaste spittage. No more hair and greasy shaving cream ring around the sink.

On the subject of bathrooms, go ahead, lift my toilet seat up....sparkly, sparkly, sparkly.

Being single means I don't have a mother-in-law.

Being single means saying good riddance to all the freakin wires sprouting from electronics all over our house and no more trying to pass monstrous speakers and subwoofers off as fine furnishings.

Being single means I have to put all the groceries away. It also means that I don't have to stand behind a man stricken with male refrigerator blindness while the milk begins to curdle. What's up with that anyway? Aren't men supposed to be better spatially?

Being single marks the end of the obligatory functions I was to attend in order to make my husband look good.

Being single means I get to send the man home before he can make too much of a mess.

Addendum

2004-11-06T08:10:00.000-08:00

Got it!

For the bad boy I'd most like to "do": It's a tie. Congratulations to Dennis Quaid (I'm thinking of his appearance in Bonnie Raitt's video, Something To Talk About. And Matthew McConaughey...he's got the southern accent, the curls, and a smile that melts butter. Hey, I read those tabloids in the checkout lane, so sue me.

I know it's wrong....

2004-11-06T05:43:00.000-08:00

Why is it wrong?
1. If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all or as I find myself thinking while browsing in Blogland, sometimes thinking out loud and worse, writing it down for the world to see, is a really, really bad idea.

2. Sexual objectification is not a good thing

3. I shouldn't be eavesdropping on other people's conversations

That being said, this is still fun. If you are looking for something that's gonna stick to your ribs, move on. While waiting for class to start, I overheard this:

Boy 1: "Not her. It's the one who always sits in front."

Boy 2: "Oh, yeah. I'd do her."

Oh, please, please let them be talking about me. God knows there is nothing hotter than being pursued by a guy who would readily "do me". Alas, I sit in the center of the room and to my great privilege, directly in front of these two catches.

I figure if banter about who one would "do" is stimulating enough for the everyday conversation between the obviously highly intellectuaized, I can take liberties to muse about it on my blog and ask anyone who reads this to join me in thinking naughty, so not pc thoughts. I mean, really, does People magazine's 50 Most Beautiful People sell so well because we as a society have an affinity for aesthetics? Uh, no, it's really, 50 People Most People Would Like To Do.

Putting aside any and all trappings of reality, here is my short list.

In the robbing the cradle category, john mayer I have had a crush on him since he was just a wee one at 22 (I think he's about to celebrate his 27th) ...where, oh where were the boys like this when I was in my twenties???!!

In the do you have to ask why category, lenny kravitz In a word, yum. Of course, I would only be willing to do him in his before the Farrah Fawcett-ized hair days. Lenny, what were you thinking?

In the just gets better with age category, Johnny Depp. Think his appearance on Inside The Actors Studio. Oh, my. I'll admit it is more than a little creepy that my 12 year old and I think the same guy is "hot".

In the someone who's dead now, but you woulda when they were still around, Jim Morrison. This is so about val kilmer in the role as Jim.

In the nothing sexier than a man who can make you laugh category, beck -- I have been a fan all the way back to Loser. Also, vince vaughn-- he looks really, really good in a cowboy hat. One more, (hey, I'm a girl who likes to laugh) owen wilson Again, it's the cowboy hat as worn in Shanghai Noon

In the it's all about the music/lyrics category, rob thomas Not the best pic of Rob and I hate to jump on the bandwagon, but I just.can't.help.it.

In the fictional character category, Louis de Pointe du Lac from Anne Rice's Interview With The Vampire. I know what you are thinking (ok, I don't really) and I am not a huge fan of Brad Pitt who played his character in the film version. It's truly the character....Hamlet as a vampire. Works for me.

In the someone in real life but they don't even know I exist category, a boy I pass in the hallways three days a week. It's all about the tendrils of his slightly wavy hair that just tease the top of his collar, super long eyelashes, full lips, inherited Kurt Cobain's wardrobe, and I don't know what it is but I am a sucker for a boy wearing some Converse. Oh, and he always has that don't bother me, I'm deep in thought look.

I also want to include the bad boy category but couldn't come up with anybody.

Come on and play! You know you want to.

I Rock, thank you very much....

2004-11-04T09:30:00.000-08:00

Good stuff, baybee....

*I rocked in my debate today. Left my class speechless and the professor said I 'd be a hard act to follow

*I'm wearing my f**k me boots today and I feel seeexxxyy

*I'm warming up homemade chicken noodle soup for lunch

*My Lit class was canceled and so I got to come home and blog

*I have got three boxes of unopened Girl Scout cookies calling my name

*I'm having a really good hair day

*After five full on rainy, crappy days, the sun is out!

*I got some goodies I won on ebay today and everthing is as described.

*Earlier this week at my gyno appointment, I weighed in seven pounds lighter than I was six months ago. I think I need to eat more GC cookies.

*I'm officially granting myself forgiveness for missing the cut off date to register to vote. With that forgiveness, I am also allowing myself to be pissed off about the end result even when I'm told I don't have an opinion worthy of being voiced as I did not vote. Obviously, there are plenty of people who did vote that suck worse than I do. No, really....I love what Chris over at http://www.rudecactus.com/archives/000898.html had to say.

*I have got a coupla crushes here in blog land....you know who you are, I blogrolled ya.

*I'm looking forward to a fine, fine weekend. I am commitment free with the exception of reading Othello, the boy who's a friend is putting off deserting to Australia post election to spend Saturday night with me, and my buddies over at Netflix set me up with Farenheit 9/11 and Swimming Pool.

Oh, and I rock.

Masochism anyone?

2004-11-01T19:02:00.000-08:00

you do it to yourself you do and that's what really hurts is you do it to yourself just you, you and no-one else you do it to yourself....Radiohead/ JUST

What a sucky week!

Today: Walked the full length of campus in relentless, pouring rain only to have to sit for an hour, drenched, with a puddle forming around my seat as I took a Biology test--- all the while wishing I wasn't agnostic so that I might at least hope for a little supernatural assistance towards a C
* It's supposed to rain like this *all* week.

Tonight: *Let time get away from me and had to feed the girls turkey dogs (EEEWWW!) and Mac n Cheese in order to get K to play rehearsal on time. *I also allowed J to fall asleep on the couch, in front of the tv, in her clothes while I was reading for my Lit class.
*Gotta pull a paper about a *very* minor character in one of Edgar Allan Poe's works outta my ass and hope it doesn't still reek of BS by the time I turn it in

Tomorrow: A visit to the gynecologist is in the works. That's a treat in and of itself but it also means I have to shave my legs yet tonight--

Tomorrow night: Research project. It just gets better and better.

Wednesday: *Prepare for a debate in my Critical Thinking class.
*Take K to the Orthodontist
*Kick myself in the ass repeatedly for missing the cut off date to register to vote by two, yes, count em', two days!

Wednesday evening: Essay due tomorrow morning over material I haven't even glanced at.

Thursday: Might as well visit the old dentist chair while I'm at it.
*A trip to the super center Wal-Mart for a cart full of groceries. Love, love, love that place!

Friday: I get to see the ex. WooHoo!! He will be picking up J in his brand new, fully loaded, Honda Pilot.
"I got a new Pilot. I know that it's the car you really wanted...the one we planned to
buy for you and so I would be willing to sell it to you used a few years down the road if you are interested."

He left out the part about him being ready to sell it when he's ready to upgrade to his Porsche.

The silver lining:

As of Friday night around 7PM, I will transform myself from frantic, single mama, into sexy siren in anticipation of Saturday night. It's really magic what 48 hours can do for a girl. I'll be refreshed and back on top of my game by the time Sunday night rolls around and this week will just seem like a bad dream that I can roll over and forget.

Next week I promise to organize my time more efficiently so that I don't have to take time away from the girls. I promise to feed them nutritious and delicious meals each and every night. J and I will bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies together. Because I missed our snuggling and book reading time tonight, I'll read an extra story each night next week. And I might even squeeze in a little time to shave my legs just because.

He Said, She Said

2004-10-26T19:40:00.000-07:00

I went a good two months successfully conversing with the ex in two to three sentences once a week.

Me: What time are you planning to pick up J?

Him: insert sound of fingernails on blackboard to simulate his voice in response

Me: See you then.

As they say, all good things must come to an end, and our conversation went something like this....

Me: What time are you planning to drop J off tomorrow?

Him: blah, blah, blah

Me: Could you drop off the rest of my Christmas stuff when you do show up?

Him: blah, blah, blah

Me: Is there anything else you need from me to complete our divorce paperwork? Seeing how it has been over two months since I dropped everything off and nothing has materialized yet.

Him: I just need to know the details of your Masters program in order to incorporate that into the paperwork

Me: OK, see you tomorrow when you drop off J.

15 minutes later....

Him: I'm calling back because there are some things I wanted to say to you. I know our conversations are always to the point but I wanted you to know that I hope you are happy with the direction things are moving. I still think of you and see all your beauty, all that is good in you and it's just been really emotionally difficult to take the final steps [toward the divorce].

Me: Do you really think in your fantasy of fantasies that there would ever be a chance of us sharing a healthy relationship?

Him: Short pause

Me: interuppting short pause, Because I sure in hell don't. With our past and all the damage that has been done?

Him: No. I'm not saying that I'm backing out. I am still ready to do everything we have agreed upon. It's just that whenever I think about you, it's hard to let go and I...

Me: cutting him off, Realize what an idiot you are?

Him: I just didn't want you to think I was being lazy or that I'm reluctant, I was just trying to be nice.

Me: Why oh why didn't I just stop here??? Nope, had to blurt it out. I am so pissed that because of you I have to be alone for a very, very long time. I'm even more angry that J cries and says she misses her daddy. It is so hard for me to be loving and tender with her when what I really want to do is tell her what an ass her father is and that because of him she has to hurt.

Him: I am only willing to take responsibility for myself. You weren't ready for a relationship long before we met and I wasn't going to be responsible for holding up 1/2 of a healthy relationship.

Me: to myself: shut up! don't say anything else. I wasn't hearing it. Well, I didn't have the issues with my sexuality that I do now. Thanks to you, I have zero trust...who knows, maybe someday I'll be thanking you. Because of you I won't allow myself to be put into a position to be hurt again.

Him: Whatever. This wasn't supposed to be a big deal. I can acknowledge your pain and anger. Can you give me some idea of what time you will be picking up J on Saturday?

Me: Probably around noon or so.

Him: OK

Me: I'll see you when you drop J off tomorrow afternoon.

I swear he has a sensor that goes off indicating that my therapist is out of town. I won't see her for another month. In the meantime, I took the cowardly way out and emailed him:

I wish I had not allowed my own hurt and anger to get the better of me and feel as though I needed to lash out at you for opening up to me. I apologize. I really feel it's in both of our best interest to keep our communications with one another as you described, "to the point." There is truly nothing to be gained from you telling me that you still see all that is good and beautiful in me nor is it productive for me to let you know how much I blame you for my unhappiness and my sense of loss.

We have a life long commitment to our daughter to provide her as healthy and loving an environment as we can and to continue to try and do that as best we can individually. I don't expect any more of you and I hope you will accept that I have nothing more to offer than that on my end.

I don't think you understand how truly devastated I am regarding the failure of our marriage and our broken family. I don't know if there will ever be a time that I will forgive and forget. I don't think it's wrong of me to ask you not to expect that from me.

So now he gets to go to bed tonight knowing that I am alone why he's continued to bed anything that will lay down next to him and that I am unhappy and grieving over losing him. YUCK! Smooth. Real smooth. And here I am blogging about *him*. The crazy thing is that I'm really not unhappy and that each and every time I feel really good and strong, feel as though I can let go of my anger and just see him as an ever present annoyance in the form of J's father, he calls me up to tell me how much he thinks about me and how I'm this and that, and that he's falling all over himself to bring me tidings of joy and happiness. Always making it clear that he doesn't want to be with me, just wants me to know that he recognizes what a treasure I am. WTH???!!! This sucks. Why do I let him continue to manipulate me, why do I make myself out to be such a victim? Why do I feel like a bitch, feel bad for lashing out at him each time he attempts to "be nice"?

2004-10-17T13:44:00.000-07:00

I can still count on one hand the number of times the friend who's a boy who is meeting my needs in a comfortable and safe way for me has slept over. The kissing is the best part. He and I are in sync, we did have a lot of practice that year or so we dated, and he has the best, fullest lips ever. Yum. But... you knew there was gonna be a but. Not a butt. A but. How is it after only four times, I am already bored? Outside of the kissing and this one really extraordinary thing he does that he boasts he learned in Penthouse (hmmm, who knew? Guess they really do read the articles), the sex is just so-so.

I feel really bad but as soon as the fog of orgasm has lifted I find myself wishing him back to his mom's basement. Honestly, I don't know why he doesn't make a break for it as the alternative has been him lying in bed listening to me rant about my soon to be ex husband. He fancies himself something of a rescuer. He's all full of tenderness and whispers of how beautiful I am and declarations of what a moron S is.

I'm pretty sure that the problem lies in the fact that I do not love him. Sex is fun, but I have yet to experience mind blowing sex with someone who couldn't break my heart.

We aren't going to see each other for three weeks in part because the girls and I are going camping with my single mama friend this coming weekend and the following weekend will be full of Halloween festivities. I am thankful for the break as it will give me time to ponder whether or not I really want to continue this fuck buddy relationship. It's painful for me to write that, but it is what it is. I'm feeling just one step above the ex right now, at best, a hypocrite.

Why can't I just be content to be alone until the right man comes along? The one who will be everything that all the other men in my life have not. The one who I will trust with all my heart, the one who will make my heart beat a little bit faster when he walks into a room, he will make promises to me and keep them, he'll love my daughters as much as I do, the one who will laugh at all my jokes and make me laugh too, he will be excited and commited to building a new family, his spirit will soar with me while hiking in the mountains and daydreaming on the beach, he'll love my body just the way it is, he will try his damndest to take away my pain, he'll cry with me, he will make me feel safe,....

Truth is, I know in my heart of hearts that I may be waiting for a very, very long time and in fact, he might not even exist.

A point of reference

2004-10-12T21:30:00.000-07:00

Just in case you don't recall or weren't privy to the ode to the goddess of the universe:

I'm six months into my separation and about halfway to my divorce and this past week was one of the two times I have talked to my ex. He called over a month ago to apologize and to let me know that he hasn't given up the hope of someday having our family back together. I felt stronger than I ever have in the course of our relationship and told him that no way, no how were there going to be anymore chances given. Well, this last week threw me for a loop when I decided to call him and apologize for my giving him the cold shoulder. I *do* *not* *know* what my motivations were.Well, I guess I sorta do. 1. I have finally slowed down enough(we are unpacked/settled in our new home and the girls and I have gotten to a place where our life is routine) to realize that I'm lonely. 2. I'm terrified of the unknown. Cannot imagine embarking on a new relationship with a "man". 3. I have not had one sexual current coursing through me as a result of depression and anxiety and now that I'm feeling halfway good about myself, I feel like a complete horn dog. 4. I have never stopped missing being a "real" family.We had a long conversation about how our individual therapy sessions were going in which I confessed that I never believed he truly loved me and that I could not understand how he, a medical student on his way to becoming a doctor, super intelligent, well traveled, and handsome could ever be interested in me. We met in a dance club and I told him that very night that I was a divorced mother of one, a college drop out, homeless (living with my ex-husband after breaking up with my boyfriend) and a career waitress. He responded with, "I fell in love with you because you are beautiful, very smart, generous, creative, incredibly hard working, funny, and the best mother I could have ever hoped for my children." I told him that after months of therapy, I can now believe those things but at the beginning of our relationship and thereafter, I could not see it. He started to cry and tell me how happy he was to hear that....it was the thing he wished most of all would happen while we were together. We ended our conversation by sharing some highlights of our separate adventures spent with our daughter. I felt much lighter after the conversation but very, very conflicted. I started to fantasize about our eventually getting back together, overcoming incredible odds, against the advice of our friends and family, to end with us sitting in front of a roaring fire in our cabin in the woods while our children slept peacefully in their beds and the snow fell softly outside. This is a familiar fantasy and so I'm guessing it's just comforting for me to conjure that one up. To top it off, that very same night I had an incredibly sexy dream about us and that brings us back to last night.I have a long lost lover that I have been in touch with off and on and we have had two dates where we just sort of hung out but nothing happened as I was most definitely not in a place to be sexual with anyone. He is a dead end for sure, but the sex was sooooo good between us that I have been thinking that we should try and hook up again and see if anything might happen. He would be a convenient answer to my desire to release some sexual tension but I would feel desperate afterwards, like I used him knowing that I don't have any deeper feelings for him. I have communicated this to him and he admits he still has feelings for me but would not have a problem with only having a sexual relationship/friendship. "Wow, good for you!" Aren't men flexible? Problem is that now I feel as though if we were to get together, I would be "cheating" on my husband. So, I have been struggling with: do I call this guy and have mind blowing sex that would completely erase any and all fantasies of my reuniting with my ex? or do I continue to toy around with the idea of my ex and I starting to date again in the not to distant future?I'm not a church goin gal but I do have an affinity for all things supernatural. I don't like to think that it's just me out here without any help whatsoever. I mean if I am indeed the master of my fate, I have truly done a sucky job up until now and I really don't want to take all the responsibility. I'm often heard saying "Well, everything happens for a reason. There are no accidents in life." Last night was one of those times I found myself hoping for some answers from somewhere or someone. As I was standing in the bathroom brushing my teeth, I asked the higher power to send me a sign.I have begun what looks to be a long time love affair with Anne Lamott. I climbed into bed last night to finish "Operating Instructions" which is a journal of her son's first year and the beginning of her life as a single mother and I came upon this passage:"I can still sense that we are a complete family unit, but sometimes I'm so hungry for a partner, a lover. One thing I know for sure, though, is that when you are hungry, it is an act of wisdom each time you turn down a spoonful if you know that the food is poisoned."Thank you, goddess of the universe, for setting me straight. There will be no booty calls made to the sexy man-child who's a thirty-something cable guy living in his mom's basement. Nor will I make anymore phone calls to my ex to let him know that in spite of everything, I do love him. Instead, I am armed this weekend with a stack of DVD's, a pile of books written by my newest infatuation, and a to-do list topped with "cruise the net for battery operated lovers".

Backpedaling (or how lu got her groove back)

2004-10-12T20:24:00.000-07:00

Ahem....so, remember when I was giving my ode to the goddess of the universe for keeping me from calling the totally, completely, no-way-no-how-never-gonna-be relationship material guy? In a particularly weak moment, I sorta flushed her advice right down the toilet and dialed his number after all. I told myself I was just lonely and there was absolutely nothing wrong with calling an old friend and inviting him over for popcorn and a movie. And before he arrived, I asked myself, who sits around with a friend watching movies and eating popcorn without having first shaved their legs, perfectly coiffed their bikini area, performed a full on pedicure, applied perfume to all the right spots, and donned a brand spankin new pair of black panties with a coordinating push up bra? I mean, that's just common courtesy...a given, right? Oh, and because of the ever energy conscience gal I am, I turned out the lights and decided we could easily rely on candlelight and the friendly glow of the television.

After sitting on my couch together and watching our movie, we found ourselves faced with nothing but paid programming on tv and so I felt I had little choice as hostess but to ask if he would mind very much if I kissed him. He thought I'd never ask and we found ourselves tangled up in a make out session that was oh so very high school. I can't believe that I somehow forgot what a fantastic kisser he was.

Oh.My.God. It was so worth the dime!! I got my little world rocked in a great big way and we have been spending the two to three mommy-free nights I have per month together. I had forgotten how good it feels to have healthy, comfortable, safe sex with someone you trust and who is whole and healthy. I feel so empowered to have claimed that back for myself after having it snatched away by my ex and his repeated betrayals and twisted sexuality. Three years is a long time.....

I have my therapist's blessing as she says it is a whole lot healthier to have a transitional relationship with someone who is "tragically flawed" than to get caught up in a head over heels love affair with someone new at this point in my healing process. She and one very dear friend both agree and communicated to me that there is nothing wrong with having my needs met in a way that is comfortable and safe for me.

We are completely honest with one another about what our expectations are or lack thereof and I am just having so much fun right now rediscovering who I am. He and I have remained friends since our break up of some seven years ago and I love that he can still make me laugh, that we genuinely enjoy one another's company, that he likes to cuddle to the point of annoyance, that he is by far the best lover I have ever had and the best part is that he remembers me. He had over a year to learn my body's hows and whys and even with all the time that has past since we were last together, he still knows how to take me there and back as many times as I'm willing.

I'm smart enough to know, and have told him so, that I realize I'm hiding behind him to avoid any new potential relationships because I'm scared to death. Scared of what worse things could be lurking out there, scared of rejection, scared of loving and losing....just scared. I feel safe with him. He's never given me cause to mistrust him and we both recognize that the reasons we broke up back then still remain good reasons for us not to entertain fantasies of getting back together.

For now, my pantry is well stocked with popcorn and I am all about some Netflix!