A rhyme wrapped in a riddle wrapped in a conundrum

Why does a guy (Austin) who has taken a temporary vow of celibacy go out with a girl who has a sex and relationship blog (short on the relationship part, natch)?

I’ve been asking myself this question.

And I haven’t come up with an answer.

I fear that what I would guess would have more to do with my own interpretation and less to do with what is going on in his head.

It does boggle the mind, though.

Why does a guy who can’t have sex (temporarily) ask out a girl who writes about it constantly?

As my BFF pointed out, it IS the perfect opportunity to get to know someone without the distraction of sex clouding our heads.

And I’ve been dying to try OMing (from Onetaste.us), so it’s not like there are NO OPTIONS for us.

[For those of you who haven’t heard of it, OMing is the practice of Orgasmic Meditation, specifically the study of the female orgasm.]

So yes, I am hopeful that Austin will sort things out so that we can be intimate, but I’m also quite comfortable with waiting. Just makes the build up that much better.

Feel free to comment and suggest your own theories.

This girl is at a loss right now.

Questionable behavior


Guess who’s back?

Wine man.

Which Wine Man, you ask?

The Wine Man who took me out on an amazing date then I didn’t hear from him for over a month.  He finally asked me out again (or in, since he cooked dinner for me and we made chocolate covered strawberries together) and we went out again.

Then nothing.

A few texts here and there.

Basically he’s either a flake or he’s not that into me. And judging from our last experience together, not that into me is looking like the more plausible option.


In any case, he texted me today asking me for another chance.

Me:  We never finished watching “Saving Mr. Banks.”

Him:  At this rate we never will!  Jesus.  I’m pretty sure I need to tend to your body in a way that you need it.

To give him another chance or not, that is the question.  Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous impotence….

Clearly he’s forgotten how our last date ended.

Erogenous Zones

I’ve been thinking a lot about sexy activities that don’t actually involve sex. For obvious reasons.

I have a temporarily celibate friend.

There is the obvious – a back, neck and shoulder massage, but what else is out there that qualifies as sexy but doesn’t involve sex?

I love a good scalp massage.

And a hand massage would do nicely.

I give great foot massages too.

When I went to a HAI retreat (Human Awareness Institute), I learned the “paintbrush” technique… to use a part of your body (in my case, my hair) to stroke another person all over their body.

THAT sounds cool. However since it requires total and complete nudity that would not work very well.

So I took to the internet to discover more erogenous zones:

  • The mouth
  • The scalp
  • The neck
  • The ears
  • The chest
  • The abdomen and navel
  • The arms
  • The armpits
  • The fingers
  • The legs
  • The feet and toes

So basically I can kiss Austin while stroking his hands, arms, and neck. Sounds like a decent way to kill some time.

Or… we could agree for one of us to stay clothed (me) while the other gets naked (Austin) and gets a paintbrush massage from me.

Surely we would both be able to restrain ourselves.


Am I a Neanderthal?

My BFF sat me down and had a good talk with me the other day.

She was talking about my blog.

Specifically, how I’m a much better person than the way I portray myself in my posts…

…and how I will never meet a quality guy as long as I’m posting similar content to my blog.

Hard, but necessary words to hear.

I love this blog. For the most part it takes a not so serious look at my life and finds a way to laugh at it, when there isn’t always a whole lot to laugh about.

If I make fun of anyone, it’s mostly myself.

but the conversation did get me thinking about my blog posts… most of which seem to revolve around sex.

Like it or not, the blog posts my audience reads are the sex posts. Either the sex posts or the ones that have cleavage shots in them.

But since my blog is terribly sexual, I started to wonder… am I as bad as the men I date?  Am I a Neanderthal?

Uh. Men. Uh. Sex. Uh. Boobs. Uh. Uh. Uh. Grunt.

I always figured that people who get to know me would realize I’m not the cartoon I make myself out to be on the pages of unblunder.

But maybe I need to say it outright.

I am no Neanderthal.

I am eloquent and funny. I am generous and kind. I help people and I give great advice. I’m empathetic and thoughtful. I can pick out the perfect present for anyone given few personal details. I’m a great mom and an even better human being.  I can cheer you up if you’re sad. I love to see people smile. I’m bright and quick witted. I can laugh at myself. I have big hopes for myself. But most of all I love easily.

So maybe I’m not the caricature you read about on this blog. Maybe I’m more complex. Maybe I should stop catering with cleavage shots and sex posts.

Maybe I should stop acting like a Neanderthal and start acting like myself.



Wendy, adopted from Tri-Valley Animal Shelter 2008 (and more love than you can shake a stick at).


Not many people know this about me but I am an active supporter of the Humane Society of Silicon Valley.  I donate to HSSV in memory of my son Douglas, who inspired me to adopt my first dog Mac.

My whole life, all my pets have been adopted from the shelter or rescued from homelessness on the streets.

None came with papers or fancy pedigrees. But they all came with a heart full of love and appreciation.

I feel strongly that people who are looking to add a pet to their family should first look at their local animal shelter. There are millions of homeless animals who desperately need homes. Ones in kill or no-kill shelters, and rescue organizations.

I’ve always felt a certain kinship with homeless pets, largely due to my own adoption. Everyone deserves a family and the idea that a loving, feeling animal would be left in a concrete box, waiting for someone to come along and adopt it breaks my heart.

I’ve often thought that given a home with enough square footage and acreage, I would rescue animals right and left, rehabilitate them, and find them good homes or keep them. Indeed, when I was married, I was not allowed to go to the animal shelter by myself because I’d come home with a pair a kittens.

What greater gift can we give to the pets who would love us unconditionally, than to give them a house to call home and a family to love?

If you’re in the market for a pet for your family, please, I urge you, look into adopting a pet in need.

You will be rewarded with love a thousand times over.

Princess, rescued with 5 kittens from a barn behind Harmonie European Day Spa in 2002 (and such a loveable lap cat).

Spending the Night

I was just discussing spending the night with Mystery Man. I told him that I’ve always been a “no spending the night” kinda woman.

I never felt the urge to spend the night with someone I’d just slept with.

It has nothing to do with not enjoying myself.  It has nothing to do with not wanting to be seen without makeup.

It has more to do with just not being sure I want to spend an entire evening and morning with that person… yet.

And also I don’t want my boys to wake up at home with their grandparents babysitting and discover their mom’s been out all night.

So it’s always been easier to go home after a date.

Until Austin.

Never have I been so tempted to blow my guideline out of the water as I was on Saturday night.

  • Spend more time with Austin? Yes, please.
  • Sleep in the same bed as Austin? Oh God, yes.
  • Wake up and see Austin’s face? Please….

This can only mean one thing. I like Austin more than any of the men I’ve gone out with recently – Jeep, The Bachelor, Mike, Wine Man, etc. None of them tempted me to break my rule.

And every time I’m tempted to break my rule, I know what’s at the other end of it for me – happiness.

The only other person who could get me to spend the night with him is Mystery Man, in part because we’d have to hook up in Vegas and it’s more convenient to share a room.

So I’ll just have to hope that the stars and planets line up again and work in my favor with Austin.

The universe is conspiring for me ;-)


Kisses that go nowhere

My date with Austin was in a word, astonishing.

For all intents and purposes, it was a pretty laid back date.  We went for a long drive in the woods and shared a few beers at a rest stop followed by some fun at his place.

The drive up Mt. Hamilton is scenic and beautiful, filled with all sorts of twists and turns to keep you engaged with the driving experience.

Austin drove and I relaxed in the passenger seat, enjoying the view both inside and outside the car.  When I said Austin is easy on the eyes, I wasn’t joking.  We chatted about all varieties of topics all the way to The Junction where we stopped to get beers.

We watched the sun set over Mt Hamilton then jumped in Austin’s car to watch the sunset from the Observatory.  It was stunning, crimson, purple and gold.  I quoted a favorite poem of mine by Simon Le Bon:

Eastern jangles, flashes, jungles,
All purple, gold, and red.
A crimson flag to herald the dawn,
And from the center of the liquid flame steps Man.

Austin gave me two sunsets that night.  Glorious.

What a gift he gave me taking me on that drive.  But what was even better was going back to Austin’s place to hang out after.

I told Austin he was very cryptic about his interest in me and he asked incredulously, “How is that possible?”

“Well, for a guy who hasn’t even kissed a girl…” I began.  But that’s as far as I got.

His soft, pliant lips met mine in a kiss I can only describe as breathtaking.

It was a kiss that went nowhere, that existed solely for the purpose of enjoying the moment and awakening great desire.

  • It lingered between us, turning me on and making me want more.
  • It teased, starting out soft and sweet and then deepening into something else.
  • It tempted me with slow, burning sensuality.

For a woman who is used to being kissed with Kisses that Go Somewhere, getting a Kiss that Goes Nowhere was a startling and refreshing change.

Of course from that moment on, I could think of nothing except kissing him more.  I wanted to devour him and his sensual kisses.  I wanted to hold him and drink deeply of the sensuality that he possessed.

His temporary vow of celibacy dictated that we not go any further than kissing.  Which made it difficult for me to speak.  I was all up in my head thinking about all the delicious things I wanted to do with him.  I listened to Austin talk about previous relationships, the state of things in Colorado, and the Stieg Larsson trilogy and I could not keep anything more than the last three words he said straight in my head.  Austin found this immensely amusing.  He was laughing right and left at me.

I was up in my head thinking about all the delicious things I wanted to do with him:

Stroke his chest
Touch his hair
Kiss him A LOT MORE
And various other X-rated activities

Instead I rather awkwardly kept my hands to myself, making a valiant attempt to not tempt Austin to break his vow but also feeling like a fraud for not expressing myself properly.  When you desire someone as much as I desire Austin, you just want to physically manifest those desires.

Austin asked me to spend the night and for a girl with a “no spending the night until…” rule, I sure was tempted to say yes.

Wake up next to Austin’s handsome face?  Yes.
Wake up wrapped in Austin’s arms?  Yes.
Wake up to morning coffee with Austin?  Yes.
Wake up and make love with Austin in the morning?  Yes.

Instead I went home to my own comfy bed, and awoke 4 hours later thinking about Austin.  So I texted him:

Me:  Can’t sleep.  Thinking of kissing you…

Him:  They were some nice kisses.  Sleepy…

Me:  To bad we didn’t lie on your bed.  I find myself making up fantasies about that.

Him:  We could have…

Me:  Killing me.

Me:  Falling asleep  Wish you were next to me.

Him:  Sleep well. Dream well. (Me too)

And there you have it… my extraordinary date with an extraordinary man requiring me to use all my strength and will power.

And the kisses that go nowhere… well they will live on in my head and my heart.  And I will most certainly enjoy getting more of them from Austin.

Stop. My. Heart.


So my date with Austin is tomorrow.

And I’m wondering how far he plans to take his temporary vow of celibacy.

Long enough to not kiss me…. again?

Long enough to not touch me… again?

Long enough to frustrate me… again?

There is something to be said for waiting.  There is a definite buildup of emotion and desire.

And if I was a less sensual woman, I’d be all about letting him have his own way.

But since I’m not, I have every intention of making it as difficult as possible for him to maintain his vow.

I could bend over in front of him and “accidentally” bump his groin with my derriere.

I could touch his thigh in a suggestive way.  Now wouldn’t that be bad?

I could walk up behind him and press my chest into his back.  Oh my!

All the subtle and not-so-subtle ways to entice Austin are coming to mind and I’m making note of all of them.

Hey, if he’s not going to make it each on me, I can play that game too….

How I got marked up with a Sharpie

Ken:  Nice post today.  I have plans for the Sharpie.

Me:  I love sharpies. Strange but true.  I like a man who leaves his mark.

Ken:  So what part of your body is off limits with the Sharpie?

Me:  My face.

Ken:  I would be tempted to mark my spots before you went on a date.

Me:  [melting] I like that idea too.  How about you tell me what to write and where and I’ll send a pic?

Ken:  If I was there and able to satisfy you, I would cover you with a sharpie.

He instructed me what to write and where (for the full story including the discover of the writing by my date, read my post “The Universe is Aligned!“).  I sent him pictures of his handiwork.

Ken:  Fucking sexy.

Too bad Ken lives so far away.  I can see we will have to do more of this in the future…

An Australian, a Scotsman, and a lumberjack walk into a bar…


Australian man – yes, because of the accent, but also because they’re damn cute and downright sexy. And I want someone to take me to Australia. Who better than a Australian?


British man – because I love a man who talks about my fanny and calls my panties knickers. Very bedroom-oriented which feeds my inner mattress dancer spectacularly.


Lumberjack – to see why the hell I am so attracted to a big chest, large hands, and a thick…


Mike Rowe – my dream man – eloquent and educated yet down to earth and really, really funny. You want to know my ideal man, it’s Mike Rowe.


Gynecologist – just to see if a doctor who works all day with women has any better grasp on the female anatomy and what to do with it than any of the other men I go out with.


Older man – just to see if life experience has given them a better grasp on the female anatomy and what to do with it. I have a Canadian prospect all lined up.


Younger man – because they’re eager to please and come with relatively less baggage than their older counterparts.


Jackass cast – love the show, love the films, love everything about them (except when they ate yellow snow).


Scotsman – I already know what’s under their kilt, and I like it A LOT.  But what I really like about a Scotsman is his manly demeanor. Been to Scotland twice and loved it both times.


Tantric sex instructor – because…. well… HELLO…. T A N T R I C  S E X !


Jon Hamm’s penis – who doesn’t want to go out with the man who gave new meaning to going commando?  Talk about an eye opener in the morning!