Panty Peeler

panty-peelerThe other day I went to a new restaurant in Los Gatos with my girlfriend Kimberly.

It’s called Oak and Rye and it’s basically an upscale pizza place.

We ordered a white truffle oil pizza that was TO DIE FOR.

Just gotta love truffle oil, eh?

Anyway, both of us were drinking beer.

Mine was a Belgian-style tripel from Midnight Sun Brewing Company.

It was DELICIOUS!

As I was ordering my 3rd can of it, I paused to look at the label and LOW AND BEHOLD IT WAS NAMED:

P A N T Y   P E E L E R !

That’s right.

Now, rape culture issues aside, I was tickled pink that I’d been drinking a beer called Panty Peeler all night without realizing it.

Then it occurred to me – I’m the one who was drinking it.

“Not fucking likely,” I thought to myself.

But I was certainly well lubricated for the evening, if you ask me.

All smiles and chit chat!

So it wasn’t a total waste of good beer!

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Hot tubs, little dogs, and BIG _____

imageMy friend Richard was kind enough to get me out of the house yesterday with the promise of a hot tub and a nice dinner.

Sensing that the last thing I wanted to do was have another dinner in Los Gatos, we opted for downtown Pleasanton.

Now the first thing you need to know about Richard is that he is one of the most generous people I know – hence the offer for me to spend the afternoon at his vacation home lounging in the hot tub while writing blog posts.  Would I like to lounge at the Treehouse?  Um, yes please thank you.

The second thing you need to know about Richard is that he has a really big….

…heart!  Jeez, what were you thinking?!

Yes, Richard has a huge heart as evidenced by him taking this lonely girl out for a decent meal and some good company… something I was sorely in need of.

We were eating dinner at a creperie downtown along with Kelso, Richard’s adorable Australian shepherd when Richard asked, “So what do you think of downtown Pleasanton?”

“It kinda reminds me of Los Gatos.”

One great date

After speed dating Wednesday and an awful date with Mike the attorney who likes to double book his dates, on Friday I was ready to throw in the towel and call it quits to my dating life.  But I’d already made a date with Joe, and I felt like I had to keep my promise to him.  I swore one more bad date and I’d take myself off the market for a while.

But my date with Joe was in a word, superb.

I know I called him the 33 year old bearded tattooed hipster.  In reality he was just a really nice 33 year old bearded man.  No tattoos.  He hates needles.

We had a great time at the Jack Rose.  Conversation flowed freely.  Both his parents are deaf so he “speaks” American Sign Language.  He was impressed I could “speak” some too.

We talked about everything from our children to our teenage hijinks.  We had such a good time three hours passed in the blink of an eye.

We decided to go for a walk in downtown Los Gatos.  I took him to my favorite freeway overpass and we had our first kiss with the cars flying by beneath us.

The overpass shuddered beneath our feet.

“Did you feel that?” he asked.

“Mmmmm,” I agreed, drunk on kisses.

“The ground shook beneath us when we kissed,” he replied.

Aw. So romantic.

We walked back to my car.  He tucked my arm in his arm as we strolled.  He admitted he didn’t want the date to end.

“Can I come over?  We can skinny dip.  I promise nothing will happen,” he said.

But the problem was I DID want something to happen.  And I can’t be trusted to behave in the face of temptation.  Especially when naked in a pool with a naked man.

I declined.  We kissed for ages.  He got to second base.  But in the end, I did go home alone.

But not for long?

A Date! Finally!

Last night I went on an impromptu date with the Irishman. He was as cute in person as he was in his pictures. And he seemed to like me. Told me he wished all Irish girls looked like me. Full of compliments, he was. We went to a local bar, excuse me – pub, and I ordered a cocktail. He ordered a beer but didn’t like it and so he drank water instead.

Lots of flirting. Lots of kissing.

He was a pretty decent kisser. The only thing he did that bothered me was lick my mouth.

Um, no.

But okay, the rest was great.

I took him to my special spot – the highway 17 overpass in Los Gatos. It’s secluded, dark, and kinda romantic with the cars flying by underneath your feet.

We kissed and fooled around a little bit until it was time to go home.

I gave him a brief tour of Los Gatos which included the high school, the Ferrari dealership, the Library, the candy shop, the Apple Store, the gelato factory, and my favorite lingerie shop. Fun, fun, fun!

At one point we were talking about our ages. I told him I was 40. He told me I didn’t look older than him.

“How old are you,” I asked.

“How old do you think I am?” he replied.

“37?” I guessed.

“You think I’m 37?! Do I look 37?! I’m 33. Why do you think I’m 37? he asked.

“Um… because I don’t usually go out with guys younger than 37,” I responded. Hey. It was the truth.

So here I was on a date with a horny 33 year old trying to get something… anything from me.

I think it’s time to say goodnight.

“Not yet. How about a kiss and a cuddle. Park over there,” he instructed.

Since I wasn’t born last night, I looked at him skeptically.

“Just a kiss and a cuddle!” he reiterated.

Of course, that turned into asking me to give him a hand job. And asking me to “give it a kiss.”

Sigh. I didn’t comply.

I finally said, “I’m very troubled that you’re not listening to me. I’ve told you I’m not comfortable with what you’re asking me to do. But instead of listening to me, you’re keep pushing me to go beyond my boundaries. And I’m not happy with that.”

He finally got the message, but not before I seriously reconsidered going on date #2 with him.

So mixed review for the Irishman. Sexy, yes. Cute, yes. Tall, yes. Horny, yes. Respectful? Not so much.

Apparently in Irish, ” a snuggle and a kiss” means “a handjob and a blowjob?”

Boudoir photoshoot, part 1

GETTING READY

A lot of prep went into my boudoir photoshoot and I think it’s an indication of how obsessed I am with my body and making it look as good as possible.  As a society, we have such a narrow definition of beauty – one which I do not fit into – and so doing this photoshoot was not just a stretch for me, but also a little bit of therapy.

I got up Sunday morning around 7 am and basically lounged in bed obsessing over boudoir pictures and poses (on Pinterest) until it was time to get my makeup done.

I went to Kimberly, makeup artist extraordinare, and she did a fabulous near smoky eye for me.  If you’ve never had your makeup done, let me tell you, it is one of the most relaxing and enjoyable treats ever.  All those little brushes on your face feel exceptional.  And at the end, you look like you, only more fabulous!

Here I am post makeup by Kimberly.

After getting my makeup done, I went home and relaxed until it was time to get my hair done.  Hair was done by Ruey in Parlour 308, Los Gatos.  He did a fabulous job, as you can see….

I was already feeling awfully beautiful with my fabulous makeup and my shiny, bouncy, Victoria’s Secret hair.  So by the time my hair was done, I was ready to go to San Francisco to the hotel to hang out in the hotel bar and wait for the photographer to call me and tell me she’s ready.

In case you’re curious, here’s the breakdown of what this activity can cost you:

  • Airbrush tan – $25-$45
  • Hair style – $45 – $70
  • Makeup – $100 — $150
  • Hair Removal – $50-$115
  • New lingerie – $500 – $800 (not really necessary)
  • Tip for photographer – $20 – $50
  • Online research – 12 hours
  • Photographs – TBD

So as you can see, the Groupon may have cost only $45 but the whole shebang costs a great deal more.  It’s no small investment.

More later, including me going commando in the city….

For now I’ll leave you with this pic of all my lingerie for the photoshoot, piled high on my bed (note the AWESOME stiletto heels and the fishnet thigh highs).  Sexy!’

Hot tubs, little dogs and big ____

My friend Richard was kind enough to get me out of the house yesterday with the promise of a hot tub and a nice dinner.

Sensing that the last thing I wanted to do was have another dinner in Los Gatos, we opted for downtown Pleasanton.

Now the first thing you need to know about Richard is that he is one of the most generous people I know – hence the offer for me to spend the afternoon at his vacation home lounging in the hot tub while writing blog posts.  Would I like to lounge at the Treehouse?  Um, yes please thank you.

imageThe second thing you need to know about Richard is that he has a really big….

…heart!  Jeez, what were you thinking?!

Yes, Richard has a huge heart as evidenced by him taking this lonely girl out for a decent meal and some good company… something I was sorely in need of.

We were eating dinner at a creperie downtown along with Kelso, Richard’s adorable Australian shepherd when Richard asked, “So what do you think of downtown Pleasanton?”

“It kinda reminds me of Los Gatos.”

The post about broken feet and bad dates

So I’m at DryWalk Blow Dry Bar getting my hair done for my date last night when I get a text message from my mom.

“Gavin hurt his foot.  He needs to be seen by a doctor.”

And just like that my dinner date evening in Los Gatos turned into an evening in the ER with my son, his broken foot and my ex husband.  Oh joy.

photo-3

The ER however, was so fast that we were in and out with a splint and crutches (my son is THRILLED he’s on crutches) in about 2 hours, leaving me plenty of time for my date.

So I went out with Tony last night.  We went to the Jack Rose in Los Gatos for cocktails.  I had a Sazerac and Hemingway.  He had two gin and tonics.

But not even alcohol could save this date.  To begin with, Tony sweat profusely and used cocktail napkins to mop up the sweat which he then placed on the table by our food. Ew yuck.  He also burped all night long and announced about an hour into the date that, “The Hispanics are trying to take over our government….”

I should have ended the date right then and there.  I was getting tired and spending too much time stifling yawns to be a very good conversationalist, even if I’d wanted to.   I found myself daydreaming about Edward, another useless and painful pastime of mine.

I tortured myself with another hour of him asking me. “So what are your hobbies?  So what is another hobby of yours?  Tell me the last fun thing you did….” and so on.

YAWN!

He was so not my type I practically jumped out of the car when he brought me home.  Then I leaned back in, gave him a hug and said thank you and left for the comfort of my empty bed.

Oh ugh.  Have I mentioned how much I hate dating now.

Is it bad to be too bored to date?

Is it bad to be too bored to date?  Honestly, if I have to go to Los Gatos for one more dinner date I may just fling myself into Vasona Lake and go for a long cold swim.  After my $1,000 date with Edward, no other date will come close.  Edward ruined me by setting the bar too high.  No more fancy dinners.

Honestly, I’d love for someone to just take me to the beach for a bonfire, or a sports game, or skating/falling at the ice skating rink.  That could be fun.  Hell, I’d even enjoying going to a park and flying a kite.

Anything but dinner in Los Gatos.  The waiters all know me there and think I’m slutty with all the dinner dates I have.

Little do they know.

Last night I was expecting to get three phone calls from three men I met online – Tony the Italian physical therapist, David the 6’6” pinot lover, and Anthony the camper.

So when Tony called, I naturally said, “Hello David.”

“Wrong horse,” he laughed.

Big oops!

Not the best way to start a conversation with someone new.  We had the standard getting-to-know-you conversation which was unremarkable and slightly boring.  I tried to get off the phone but he kept me on until I agreed to a date.

IN LOS GATOS.  At a restaurant OF MY CHOICE.

Any of this sounding familiar?

Welcome to the wonderful world of internet dating.  Pin a medal on me and call me “Genius.”

image tny
Anthony Tony
pinot
David