Two cents

No, I’ve never been to Burning Man, his profile said.

“But as an ad exec, I’ve been all over the world, held photoshoots with supermodels. . .”

Screech!

What?

Supermodels?

Oh HELL no!

Swipe LEFT!

Just one of the profiles I came across on Tinder.

Oh Tinder, how you ENTERTAIN me.

FYI, women don’t like to hear that a potential date has been with supermodels.

The only thing we like WORSE are plastic surgeons and gynecologists.

Here’s a few tips for the men out there:

  1. DON’T post profiles pics with ex-girlfriends, sisters, cropped out women, women in general ,and MODELS MOST SPECIFICALLY!
  2. DON’T create a username like “luvs2eatacos” or “bigboi4u.”
  3. DON’T trash talk her sports team. You’re not her buddy. You’re not her pal.  Be nice.  Bring YOUR A-game.
  4. DON’T say you attended the “School of Hard Knocks.” Everyone has. It’s a given.  No one skates through life unscathed.  This makes you sound like a whiner.
  5. DON’T say you’re fresh out of a LTR. Everyone knows there’s a wild oats sowing period of time following a breakup.
  6. DO let your freak flag fly. I want to know what makes you YOU!
  7. DO post pics of your dog. I love that shit.  I’m on the fence about cat pictures, however.
  8. DO post pics of your travels, but BE IN THE PHOTO. I know what Notre Dame looks like.
  9. DO use good grammar and punctuation. It’s the difference between helping your Uncle Jack off a horse and helping your uncle jack off a horse.
  10. DO upload new photos from time to time to see what women respond to. I love it when my old matches upload new photos.

Just my $0.02.

Mommy

I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell this story.

It’s the story of me and someone I dated who had an infantilism fetish.

Now the first thing you should know is that I don’t knock anyone’s fetish.

And because of that, I thought well hey, maybe I can do this.

After all, I’ve got the muffins for it.

But as it turns out, no.

I do not have the composition necessary to engage in these activities.

For one, the milk has long since dried up and I’m not anxious to get it back.

I felt like a big lactating cow when I was nursing my kids.

Not sexy.

And another thing – when someone calls me “mommy” I think of my babies which is great when you’re raising kids but awful when you’re trying to get your groove on.

I politely asked him to me called “Mimi” instead of “mommy” but that didn’t cut it with this guy.

My foray into infantilism lasted all of one date.

When it’s not for you, it’s clear that IT’S NOT FOR YOU.

And that’s when I realized I was looking for something different.

Perhaps a man who doesn’t sign all his text messages with the milk bottle and water droplet emoji.

Now, you may think of this as a setback but every time I clarify one more thing I’m not looking for, and I’m confident it’s not for me, well that just puts me one step closer to knowing what I DO want.

So I can confidently say I know one more thing about myself.

I’ll get to where I need to be by process of elimination.

A little more love in the world

I’ve been single for 15 years, with a few notable relationships:

I can’t forget Steve, literally the smartest man I’ve ever dated.

Or Drew, who was the TALLEST at 6’11” tall.

Jay was the sweetest and the closest I came to pure happiness.

But he was followed by The Professor who altered my life forever by teaching me to test my edges.

The Swede captured my heart despite the unsurmountable distance between us.

And continuing with the international theme, I was totally enamored with Charlie The Aussie, who was the most adventurous man I ever met.

Finally, there’s Luke who I don’t really care to remember that often on account of his poor post-miscarriage behavior.

There has been a smattering of other men thrown in, but those are the highlights.

I’m starting to think, because I’ve been single for so long, that I make a pretty good single person.

I keep busy with friends and family.

I have a sex life.

Occasionally, it’s even robust.

It may be unusual and atypical for a single female living in the Bay Area but it keeps me happy.

Pretty much the only thing I miss from being coupled up is having someone to remind me when it’s time to rotate my tires.

The only reason why I’m looking AT ALL is because I don’t want to be single in my sunset years.

I want to travel and explore the world with someone when I retire.

Share history with someone.

Can’t blame me for working toward a goal.

Especially when the goal is to create a little more love in this world.

Three strikes, you’re out!

michelleI was really into this one guy when I was younger.

He was a drummer.

Just one of several drummers I dated.

I guess I have a thing for lumberjacks AND drummers.

The thing about him was that he was just absolutely THE DEFINITION OF SEXY.

Dark hair, dark eyes, nice biceps honed from years of going apeshit on his tubs.

He was also EVER SO SLIGHTLY younger than me.

I was so excited when he asked me out.

I remember he got lost on the way to my house to pick me up.

He drove an old truck.

Bonus!

Be still my heart.

In any case, he picked me up and we went out and for the life I me I don’t recall where we went or what we did.

All I know is that when it came time to say goodnight, he was dropping my off at my house and I leaned in the car window to give him a kiss and when the kiss was over, he said (I KID YOU NOT), “Good night Lisa. I mean Melissa. I mean Michelle.”

Now, at the time I was CRUSHED by this turn of events.

But as time has passed, I have realized that it wasn’t all that bad.

I’m such a good kisser I clearly kissed all the sense from his head and he couldn’t remember my name.

Yeah, that’s what happened!

Save

Magic is what you make of it

Disney loveMagic always comes with a prince

At least that’s what Disney and Hollywood lead you to believe.

Of course lately, there’s been less focus on the prince and more focus on the heroine, but you get the picture – love, above all, makes the story.

And how are we single ladies supposed to feel about this in real life?

Well, I’ll tell you, being single has never hurt my social life. In fact, I think I get out more and do more things simply because I don’t have a partner to hang out at home with eating pizza and drinking beer with on a Saturday night.

Being single didn’t hurt me when I was racing cars at the Stockton 99.

image

Being single especially didn’t hurt me when I was leaping from an airplane with a hot man and a parachute strapped to my back.

And it certainly didn’t hurt me when I went to the Alameda County Fairgrounds and ran with the bulls.

photo 4No, being single hasn’t hurt one bit.

Even my more carnal urges somehow manage to get taken care of.

So what then is my life missing without a man to “complete” me?

The answer is nothing.

I have friends and family who give me love and camaraderie and lovers who give me intimacy.

Everything else is icing on the cake.

Sure, it’s magical when life and love come with a prince.

But it sure as hell isn’t required.

Magic, is what you make of it.

I’m just not down with that

So there I am, texting someone new when he says to me, “But anal sex we have to do.”

Mind you, this is our first conversation EVER.

So I’m quietly reflecting on my response when he follows up with, “Okay, I am gross.  I get it.”

I say the first thing that comes to mind, “No, not gross.  Just oddly premature.”

Let’s face it, anal sex is a very dominating activity and requires trust and skill, two things I don’t have with a COMPLETE STRANGER.

Then I got a little judgmental and said, “It’s interesting.  We’re in our 40s.  Not getting younger or prettier and yet your perfect match is an anal sex fiend.  I’m a little intimidated.

And the truth is I am a little intimidated.

I mean, if anal sex is the first thing he mentions to a TOTAL STRANGER, chances are it’s important to him.

Very important.

I mention that there are ALL THESE OTHER THINGS that go into a good hookup.

He tries to pass off his premature request for anal as something substantial, “I am looking for someone that shares my ideas of sex and fun and passion.”

Me too, but I’m not putting it out in front of chemistry, connection and spark.

All this is to say that this guy managed to talk his way out of getting laid by simply being a total buffoon about anal sex.

What a thing to ask for from a stranger!

Does he even know there’s a nice, textured, self-lubricating hole designed for his pleasure?

Le duh.

Latin lover

I want to date a Spaniard.

Or maybe a man from South America.

The bottom line is, I am ready to meet a sexy Latin lover.

Why am I talking like this?

Well, I met a hot, sexy Latin man last week and ever since then I’ve been dreaming about the possibilities.

I’m not without my own Latin man experiences.

My father was born in South America and immigrated to the US when he was young.

So I’m used to having impassioned, strong-willed, masculine men in my life.

Maybe this guy will ask me out and I’ll get a chance to sample the pleasures of dating a Latin man.

Maybe he won’t.

The bottom line is my bucket list is sadly lacking in this department and I intend to remedy this.

Right away.

Starting with finding a sexy Latin man to date.

Watch out Tinder, ‘cuz I’m coming for you. . .

It could only happen to me

I had a date last night.

It was with a man who (I was positive) was a “SURE” thing.

He basically begged me to come over his house after we shared some provocative pics the night before.

Needless to say, I took special care when getting ready.

I bathed (always important).

I shaved (even my legs).

I refreshed my makeup and put on lipstick.

I was all set to roll in the hay, should the opportunity present itself.

And I full expected the opportunity to present itself.

I should know better.

As it turned out, he was not a sure thing.

Not even close.

I instigated a hug when I met him.

I kissed his cheek.

I flirted with him over dinner.

I don’t know how I find these guys.

Finally, after making small talk for about 3 hours, I asked if he wanted a drive home.

He’d walked the 0.3 miles from his house to the restaurant.

I was being polite, but secretly I was hoping for an invitation in.

He turned me down.

And gave me a dry peck on the lips goodbye with these parting words. . .

I’M TRYING TO BEHAVE.

I don’t want you to BEHAVE!

I want you to do wild and crazy things with me!

So there you have it.

My SURE THING was a TOTAL BUST.

It could only happen to me. . .

SMH

The other night I tried to line up a booty call.

But no one could play.

That is to say, everyone I contacted was so far away it was prohibitive.

Le sigh.

I sent out a bunch of text messages.

Some of you may have gotten a text message from me.

You know who you are.

This was my attempt (and a poor one at that) to arrange a booty call for Saturday night.

This is par for the course with me.

Every time I think I’m going to cut loose and just enjoy myself something happens to throw a wrench in the works.

Now, more than ever I need to make LOCAL friends.

The kind that live 10 minutes from me, preferably.

I have one new friend in my town.

Sadly, he’s gone for the holidays and won’t be back until December 3rd.

I did go online and met another single man who lives in my area.

We are supposed to have a date tonight.

So we shall see how that develops.

Changing my profile pic on Tinder has certainly upped the ante when it comes to dates.

I’m starting to wonder if we aren’t all online looking for hookups and thinking maybe something will come of it, instead of everyone being online looking for a LTR and finding FWB instead.

This is my new approach to dating, and one that I think my photographer-friend heartily approves of.

Looking for a FWB and stumbling across a LTR by accident.

SMH (which by the way, means Shaking My Head and NOT SEX MIGHT HELP).

Just FYI!

Bathing in sunblock

Ever since I put THIS picture up on Tinder, I’ve been getting a ton of emails from men.

Among the responses, I got two dick pics.

Now, I’m not going to complain because that would just be silly.

Put a provocative picture out there, expect to get provocative pictures back.

That’s the rules folks.

I put the bait in the water, I shouldn’t be surprised when I catch a corresponding fish.

So I’m not writing this to complain about dick pics.

No.

One such “fish” is from Germany.

Quite a sexy beast too.

A private pilot who flies corporate jets for a living.

Now, I’ve been warned about pilots.

So I asked him, “ARE YOU MARRIED?”

He told me “Recently separated.”

Right-O.

I’ll bet his wife doesn’t know this!

Anyway, at best I’ve made a few sext partners through this photo.

At worst I’ll have to fend off some groping hands on a date.

All in all, I’m pretty happy to have found some new blood to keep me entertained.

The German Pilot asked me to send a current photo, so I obliged.

He doesn’t think I look 46 years old.

He says I look like I’m in my 20s.

[NOTE:  He may be referring to pictures I sent that had other body parts besides my face.]

I had to politely explain that I virtually bathe in sunblock every day.

Personally, I think I look my age give or take only about 5 years or so.

And I’m okay with that.

Growing old is a luxury denied to many.

But I thank my lucky stars that I worked in a spa in my 20s and was advised to wear sunblock every day.

As for The German Pilot, he can go home to his “recently-separated” wife and “reconcile.”

I learned my lesson with Stargazer.

No married men.