P.S. Sporting the 80's

Dizzy was sporting the 80's Jacklyn Smith hair and lots of cleavage today.  Good thing I was wearing a Suit Jacket....

I was wondering why I got my way today....I may have to ditch this blouse, or save it in case I get really, really, really desperate...

Pranks...

If you know me, you know that I have an extremely warped sense of humor. Some of you have been at the receiving end of it and fortunately for me, I’m still alive to tell the tale. I’ve always had a bit of an impish streak and if you open the door, just a crack, I’ll walk right through and try to pull one over on you.

My poor BFF WJT used to work for Monsanto (Ortho products) on the telephones. If you had a problem with the product (weed killer, etc) or if you ingested it, you call the number to find out what to do. One day, I called her and disguised my voice as an old lady and told her that “Fluffy my kitty, accidently ate some of the weed killer and that I don’t know what to do”! I even started gasping "help me, Fluffy's throat is closing up"! Yeah, I know it was bad, but in my defense, it was when I was in my 20’s. That’s when I did most of my bad stuff. I even told her, with a straight face, that the reason the horses don’t poop during the British royal wedding processions is because they use “Horse Corks” and don’t pull the plugs till they’re back at the stables. Don’t get me wrong…I always ‘fessed up within about 5 to 10 minutes…except one time.

My ex-wife LW and I (I call her my ex-wife because we lived together for over 7 years and that qualified us for common law marriage…she didn’t want to marry me though, and took off with some military guy…I bet she wants me now!) used to work downtown for a Legislative Bill Tracking Service. Sometimes we’d work really late at night so we had a snack drawer where we kept different things to stave off hunger. Well, one of our co-workers “Helen” would go into the drawer and eat all of the snacks, so when we’d go looking for something, there’d be nothing left. We didn’t have a problem, per se, with her taking it if she’d just replace it. But no, no matter how many times we’d call her on it, nothing would happen. We told her to stay out of the drawer, but she wouldn’t do it. So I decided to fix her! I bought a couple of packages of Mickey chocolate cupcakes…the kind with the peel off frosting. I peeled off the frosting and set it aside. Then I melted chocolate ex-lax and smeared the tops quite liberally with the laxative. I then put the peel off frosting back over the cupcakes, put them on a small saucer and covered them with Saran wrap. Into the drawer they went (I had no idea that a person could have serious consequences if they ingest too much laxative) and the next morning…3 of them were gone! Don’t worry…you can eat whatever I prepare for you…trust me!

Another time, my Mom had married a Marine, he in full dress uniform and her in one of those poofy Scarlett O'Hara bustle wedding dress. She gave me a picture of the moment and I had it sitting on a coffee table in my apartment. My Mom (back in the day) and I looked alike. Even during Jr. HS and HS, the receptionists would always comment how close we looked. So in walks the guy I’m seeing and he spots the picture. He’s looking at it for a couple of minutes and then looks up at me and says (yes, he opened the door) “I didn’t know you were married before”. I said, “yes, it was a mistake and I’m trying to get over it”. He commented that the guy was so much older than me. I said that I chose someone older because I didn’t want to deal with all the baggage that came with younger guys, but that I realized my mistake and got a divorce. We dialoged for a couple of minutes, and I broke out laughing and said “That’s my Mom”! He was SO MAD! He held a grudge about it for the longest time, but I thought it was funny.

My Mom used to sell the “Naughty Lady” line of lingerie and toys. She had given me a “glow in the dark” Dildo…one of those old ones that used to have wires sticking out (this was still in my 20’s). I yanked the wires out and had it sitting in the window sill of our (my ex-wife) kitchen townhouse (no people, it had never been used!). Her parents were quite a bit older and regular church goers. They drop by and we’re having a conversation in the kitchen and I notice that the dildo is sitting in plain view of her parents. I’m sure they just thought I was a horrible influence on their precious daughter.

Later on, we end up having a party at the townhouse with some members from a local rock band (if I tell you the name, you’d ID the drummer). The drummer was quite inebriated (so effed up that he got on his knees in a puddle of champagne and begged me to see the twins. Uh yeah…NO! I was pretty mean and very body conscious at the time) and found the dildo in the kitchen. He made everyone turn out the lights and was playing with the darn thing like a light saber. It was hysterical! On the night of their last performance, I wrapped it up and put it in a shoe box. It was presented to him on the stage in front of the entire audience. The funny thing was, the guitarist ended up playing with the darn thing and stealing it.

When I want to, I have the ability to keep a stone straight face when pulling off these pranks. I pulled one on my boy that didn’t quite have the effect I was going for. This was before we adopted him. We’re driving down the road on April Fool’s Day and his Uncle (now Dad, and my ex) was in Oregon visiting relatives. The Boy is in his junior year of high school. He asks me what his Uncle is doing in Oregon and I say “He’s looking for a home for us to purchase and move into”. The Boy asks why, and I say that his Uncle’s family really needs him close by right now and we feel that it would be best to pick up and move. Now keep in mind, The Boy and I had been discussing April Fool’s all morning and talking about the best way to trick each other, etc.

As I’m driving, I notice that he’s completely silent. I look over and he’s got tears in his eyes. I ask him what is wrong and he lets out this torrent of emotion about finally having friends and liking his school and now we want to move him. I looked over and said (with a really sorrowful voice) April Fool’s? OMG, the stuff hit the fan! He was so angry. I told him “We’ve been talking about pranks all morning and I thought for sure you’d figure this one out”. I apologized and told him that there was no way I’d ever choose to move him after all the moving he’d done as a kid and that this was and would always be his home. I just had no clue how deep his emotions ran about home and roots. He realized that I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings and we laugh about it now, but man…that one really hurt my heart!

So I’m better about picking my pranks, but you just never know…..

Diary of a Home

After my In-Laws divorced, my Mother in law (I called her Mom) put both my ex-husband and me on the title of her home.  I asked her not to put my name, but she did.  After she passed away in June of 2010, I knew that the ex and I were headed for divorce.  I actually knew it in April of that year, but that's another story. I wasn't going to be a bitch about it and try and take everything...but I felt that I deserved a home, and I gave the ex his choice.  He chose our sierra foothill home, and I got Mom's home.

Now granted, Mom's home was paid off, but it was built sometime in the 50's and was in deplorable shape. Half of the electrical didn't work, the water tasted foul, the kitchen, walls, floors, etc needed a complete overhaul. Mom and I always talked about the things we would do to update the home, so I felt like it was a sign that it was mine!

So I took out a mortgage on the home and began renovation in June of 2011. I thought it would only take 3 or 4 months, but it actually didn't get signed off by the City until March of 2012. I moved in January of 2012 (Hey, it's been a year!) because of squatters down the road and because someone busted the front door lock, and I was not going to have my home damaged after all the work that we put in. And I have a means to defend myself....so...

Today, I found out that the home appraised for 75K more than it did before I renovated it.  I'm extremely happy!  Thanks to all the friends who helped me gut the house, pull down stucco, hack ivy, etc.  They really saved me a bundle helping me demolish.  I learned how to jackhammer, use a ditch witch, put in cabinetry, tile, caulk, shop (God...that was like pulling teeth for a manly girl like me) for appliances, furniture, window coverings, blah blah blah. I tied myself to the chimney and jacked that fucker down myself.  Even the neighbors came by and watched me...they were amazed to see a woman up there doing it.

I got the nicest complement about how it doesn't even compare...so...I'm sharing some before and after pics!  Enjoy the pics of Casa de Cromwell!  Thanks Mom! I love you!

1. View from only window in Master

2. The ex's bedroom now Master en Suite

3. Only original bathroom

4. Fireplace built by family and made to last.
That took me awhile to tear down.

5. Carport and window to master (see above)

6. Kitchen with 70's wall paper

7. This is where the new front door is

8. This is where the new sink/window is.

Corner wall mounted TV and gas fireplace
(See 4)

New laundry room (back of pic 6 & 9)

New Patio (see door in 5)

Half wall built to shelter patio

This wall is the same as 5 above...no window

New kitchen w/concrete countertops
and floors, pendant lights (see 8)

9. back of kitchen with washer
Dryer and tank water heater
built in the corner

renovated old bath

Shot with front door

2nd bedroom 

Renovated bathroom

Renovated bathroom

My iComfort bed! This wall is the same
in #5.

Master Bath tub (see 2)

Master Bath (see 2)

Master water closet

Master shower with seat

Tub and shower wall

Master Shower with 2 heads!

Internet Dating...Ewwww...

I was on FaceBook and it came up with an ad about men wanting to take care of a woman, i.e. "No games, just guys looking for a faithful woman to take care of".  Really???  Ok, I gotta break this statement down..Dizzy style!

First…. “No Games”…I don’t know a man alive that doesn’t play some sort of game. To be honest, I’d have to say women do too. Courtship is a game, a dance of wills, personalities and an opportunity to test someones moral fortitude. I was with someone a little while back and wouldn’t do the naughty tango the first night together. He probably saw it as a “game”. For me, it was an opportunity to see if he would respect my wishes, because I wanted to “play” more than one night, and I have standards (ok, no laughing from the peanut gallery). I needed to know for sure that he wasn’t a complete ‘tool’!

Second…”Looking for a faithful woman”…Really? You’re going to be able to tell if the woman you’re seeing from the Internet is faithful because she says so? Only time and one-on-one contact is going to tell you whether or not a woman is faithful, so why bother putting this requirement in the ad?

Third…”To take care of”….here’s where my cynicism kicks in. Are there really men that “take care” of women? This Ladies, is the hook this ad uses to reel you in. In fairytale land, every woman wants to be taken care of, pampered, treasured, and worshiped like the Goddess that she is. Reality tells me that so do men! They love the little things like backrubs, foot rubs, a well cooked meal. So in a perfect world, it would be a joint effort, i.e. you would take care of each other. There’s no man alive that will totally take care of a woman…at least I haven’t experienced it. This hook is used because women (especially Mom’s) work hard to take care of their families (yes, I know men do too) and have experienced the feeling of being overwhelmed. This line tugs at that experience and makes you want to drop everything and join this Internet dating service. I’ve been taking care of people since I was three. I’m now single and my kid lives in Tulsa. I’m still taking care of people. You don’t think I long for someone to take care of me? The possibility of that happening??? Slim and none! If I’m honest though, I’d get tired of that pretty fast. I have to be an active participant in a relationship, not a bonbon eating, soap opera lounging Buffy who doesn’t use her brain for anything but turning the channel. BORING!

I’m also a firm believer that everyone should know how to take care of themselves, be able to support themselves and always have a backup plan for when things don’t work out.

Last….I can be anyone I want to be on the Net. I’ve said this before, and I taught my boy this. When I first let him get a “My Space” page (around age 15), to monitor what he was posting, I used a picture of a young friend at work and sent a friend request. He never knew that I monitored his page that way until around age 17, when I told him. To him, I was a 20 year old, hot chick that partied at Sac State.

Unless you’ve met me, you really have no idea if what I portray myself as on this blog is the real thing or not. Unless you’ve met me, you don’t know if the picture I’ve posed on my profile is really me. I really love the commercial with the girl dating the “French Male Model” that she met on the Net because everything on the Net is “True..cuz you can’t lie on the Net”.

Like Oh My God, I’m this totally tall, lithe blonde with highlights in my hair that come from lounging on a beach every chance I get. My skin has been kissed by the sun and my stats are 36D, 24, 34 (ok, one of those stats is incorrect…shhh, I’m daydreaming…I mean being totally truthful… here!) I’m so graceful that everyone turns to watch me walk away. My eyes are the color of the bluest sky with golden flecks around the iris. Every rock God wants to date me, but I turn them down. Every woman wants to be me, and I eat up the attention! I’m independently wealthy and shop yearly in Milan and Paris. I drive a Saleen S7 to be inconspicuous. And I blog because I’m so bored with my life. There are only so many men you can do before it just becomes a tedious chore; I mean really…how many times can I fake an orgasm? Don’t you just totally want to be my friend? Those of you who really know me are choking back the tears (or stomach contents) right now. I hope I didn’t cause any cardiac arrests or anything….
_____________________________

Today was my OB-GYN appointment.  I love Dr. Zimmerman!  He's one of the few men that I don't have a problem spreading my legs for and letting him look to his heart's content.  Any man that puts Gary Larsen's "The Far Side" posters on the ceiling for you to gaze at while your feet are in the stirrups is too cool!

Anyway, at the appointment, everyone kept smiling at me.  It was freaking me out.  I mean, I smile all the time, but I don't usually get a response back.  Today was different.  I had to give 6 vials of blood and the chick taking it was joking and laughing.  The Wench even had the nerve to tell me she was out of practice sticking people because she was out on Maternity leave!!! Girlfriend...REALLY? Its taken me years to get over my phobia of needles (damn that syringe fisted Nurse!), and this chick is yanking my chain! I was snorting with laughter.

Everywhere I went, people were smiling at me.  I checked my face to make sure there weren't any boogers hanging out of my nose, and I checked my teeth to make sure there was nothing stuck in them. I was wearing a sweater, so I know the twins were in check. WTF??? Even at the grocery store, people were smiling at me.  Even kids! Now granted, when I shop, I have my iPod going, so I'm usually dancing, or singing down the aisles, but no one ever pays attention.  This is California for God's sake! I should just be thankful and not kick a gift horse in the mouth! Until tomorrow my Peeps!

Post Script....

First, look...my knee is almost normal...until the next time I drink copious amounts of tequila and decide to slide my knee along the pavement....

There's a full moon tonight, and I had to post a pic.  I have a hard time looking at the moon these days, despite how beautiful it is....

What's Next?

It's a different kind of day today.  Not sure why.  I'm filled with this feeling of "what's next"? What is on the radar for me? Granted, right now I'm working on getting my house in order.  And when I say house, I don't just mean in the literal sense.  I'm working it all...the mind, spirit, body, financial and home. It's daunting when I also have to think about getting my encryption project at work done, and done right.

I didn't sleep well last night (when do I ever???) and I started the day with my head filled with crap.  That's right.... CRAPTACULAR!!! So I did what I like to do in these situations, took care of some business around the house, and then proceeded to beat it out of my body. Yeah baby....YEAH!!!  I went for a 6 mile speed walk (with a little sprinting here and there). When the air is crisp and my nose gets cold, I love it. I love feeling my stomach muscles tighten up (reminds me of sex) and my leg muscles get rock hard.  My ass is tight when I do one of these walks, and I'm in the zone.  Totally clears the cobwebs out.

It also gets me into shape for the "girlie" doctor appointment tomorrow.  I know that will be fine, but they always have to take my blood pressure, and I always get nervous at the doctor's office.  But hey, at least I'll be off of work early! So now I'm winding down and getting ready to call it a day.  I got my monster tub filling up with hot water, I've got a nice glass of wine, some music and I'll be soaking some stress away and crawling into bed...only to be up by 3:30 and kicking the shit out of Vin Diesel!

Next weekend will be busy. Got a funeral on Saturday and Sunday is SuperBowl (CK7 Baby!).  I have people pressuring me to host a SuperBowl party, and I'm not sure if I'm going to do it or not. If I did, it would be one of those "Bring your seat, an appetizer and your drink of preference" things.  I have tequila and Fireball, and I'd make my Blue Cheese/Bacon guacamole with chips...but that would do it for me.  Ah well, it's going to be an interesting week.

No makeup...you can see the 'no sleep' lines under my eyes.

With glasses, you just look like a badass, and no one knows about the baggy eyes!

The tub is calling...

How Much Is Too Much???

So I'm talking with my BFF today about blogging about my "man-hater militant" mentality, i.e. where it comes from and the baggage that goes with it. She plays Devil's Advocate with me to come up with a decision on "How much is too much" to post on a blog.

Something I learned in Adult Children of Alcoholics was a phrase that goes "You're only as sick as your secrets". That resonated with me, because I was always one to hold everything inside.  I held my childhood inside, I held the issues with my family inside and it was literally eating me, devouring my soul. So, little by little, I started talking and opening up...first with my really good friends (the ones that I know would die for me) and then more and more outside the circle. Now, oddly enough, I've come full circle in that I'm now questioning what I shouldn't be telling, cuz I'm willing to spill my guts and let it fly. However, the weird thing is that I'm not willing to expose my feelings to someone I care about because I don't want to hand over control....how sick is that?

So I pose the question to you? How much is too much to post on a blog? Now, I try to not give up any identities when I blog and unless I've personally directed you to this blog, you don't really know who I am, etc. The things I post about shouldn't get me fired or anything. However, I know that I can run the risk of losing friends or relationships by the things I post and that can be seen as both positive and negative.  Negative = I'm losing someone that meant something to me. Positive = If I've lost that person over something I've said, that they didn't want to hash it out with me, then maybe we weren't the friends I thought we were...

These days I keep very few secrets close to the vest. Now granted, there are things I wouldn't tell specific people because of their vocal indiscretions, and one secret I keep because...having seen how others have reacted to someone else's exposure leads me to believe that I'll be unfairly judged and not seen as me, but for the most part, everything else is ok.

Secrets can be a relationship killer. I'd rather know up front if my partner wants someone else, than keep me in the dark and finding out the hard way.  Honestly, I'd rather you just tell me that you don't want to be with me or that you want to fuck someone else, so we could still end up friends.  I make a really horrible enemy, but if we're tight, I'd die for you.

Or if the relationship is a BFF....I think I've come close to losing a couple of BFFs because of secrets I've kept. Granted, after we talked it out and they understood my side of the situation, I came out ok, and we're still tight.  However, it scares me how close I came to losing them over a decision I made long ago for the right reasons and not telling them about it.

I will eventually blog about that decision and what it entailed, but not tonight. Tonight is the "should I, or shouldn't I" question. I've said before that this blog allows me to leech poison out of my system. It allows you to actually see me, whether you know me or not. To be honest, I don't feel that I'm that great of a person.  I'm just a person that does the best that they can. I have a very difficult time forgiving, and I definitely never forget! I am vengeful, opinionated, passionate, a real pain in the ass!  My fear is that you may get to know me too well through this blog and walk away because of my true nature. But whatever fears I have, I try and tamp them down, walk through them with my head held high, because I can't let fear win. I did that as a kid, and was miserable! Now, I try and take fear on, head first..I will make fear my bitch!

So, what do you think? As long as I don't spill YOUR deepest, darkest secrets, are you good with whatever comes down the pike? Is there a limit or a line that I shouldn't cross? Should I expose everything? What are my limitations?  I could really use your feedback on this one world.  Let me know what you think.

On a lighter note, I spent the afternoon with a BFF picking up my wine club selections from Todd Taylor (OMG, if you've never had this man's wines...they are effing panty droppers!!!) and having a good time reconnecting. I've known this BFF since Jr. HS and she's always been there for me. She knows what a fucking pain in the ass that I am and still hasn't tossed me aside.  She was there during the dark days when I never talked about my home life, the fucking Anti-Christ Step-Father, or anything, and was still willing to hang with me.  Of course, now she can't shut me up but still loves me. She was one of my bridesmaids that, when I had to cancel my wedding, didn't ask me why, but instead said that she would be there for me and just to let her know what she needed to do (SKR was another one that responded the same way).

You know, although I can't give up their identities, the aforementioned ladies (along with LW, DP, KV, TS, AA, KA) I know would die for me. They call me on my shit, and they love me.  I'm really lucky and blessed that somehow, they ended up in my life.  I really pity the fool that will have to pass their inspection to be by my side.  They are SO GONNA FUCK YOU UP! I may end up a spinster!

Uh Oh...Naughty Blog Alert

So I think everyone realizes that I don't have much of a problem discussing things outside of the "norm". Today's topic is not for the "faint of heart". The topic I'm about to discuss causes cringing with the mere mention of the name. Most men scream like little girls and women, well... it's a cross that we have to bear and some of us do it better than others...the topic is WAXING!

Yes, that's right...waxing. I'm not talking about waxing your mustache or facial hair. No, I'm talking about waxing...down there! I have the feeling that most guys have no clue what the ladies go through for them. Now granted…some of us don't do it strictly for our men. I like the whole clean feeling I get after a wax. But for those of us to do it, our men need to appreciate the effort, or you ladies can stop doing it. I guess I'm picking this topic because today I willingly show up for hair ripping torture.

Now, there are many types of wax jobs and I'll break them down for you: one,

• Basic Bikini - removes the hair outside the panty line.
•  Full Bikini - takes the sides of the bikini line deeper than the basic and may include some hair on top to make a more defined triangle. 
• French Bikini - takes all the hair off in front except for small strip and stops before it gets to the back. 
• Brazilian Bikini - takes all the hair off the bikini line front and back (yes including the tushie) although some hair could be left behind at the discretion of the waxee. 
• Hollywood Bikini - basically the Brazilian with no hair.

So I'll break down the basic visit for you. I go in and stripped from the waist down, lie down on a cushy table and bring the bottoms of my feet together with the knees spread apart as far as they will go. I make small talk with my Waxer (she's awesome) while she's mixing this thick purple wax. She disinfects my area, sprinkles it with powder and goes to town. She'll start with the strip of wax along one side and across the top. She waits for the hot wax to harden and then pulls up and flat with a quick yank. Oh yeah, baby… It hurts like hell! Because I want it all gone, she starts outside and works inward, with the final application in the front being inside the "lips". This is the most painful and I really clamp down on my jaw when she does this one. After that part is done, I bring my legs back together and pull my knees to my chest, thereby exposing the back end. She makes quick work of that with longer strips, but by the time she's done (usually within 5 to 8 minutes) I'm smooth as silk.

Now the actual yanking of the wax rips your hair out by the roots and that hurts like a mother! This is the ultimate exercise in masochistic behavior! When I'm on the table, the thoughts the generally go to my head are "No man is worth this", "What the eff am I doing", "I've lost my freaking mind" etc. But because it only lasts around eight minutes, it's eight minutes of torture for four weeks of nice.

I don't want you guys thinking that it isn't as painful for women "down there" as it is for men, and that we don't know the meaning of real pain, etc. The skin "down there" is extremely sensitive for either person and until you actually do a little man-scaping with hot wax and a sadistic waxer, you can keep your trap shut! I'm not even asking you to remove it all, only asking for you to get a little taste of what you lady does for you.

You swimmers that wax know what I'm talking about…to a certain extent. Waxing your legs doesn't hurt like waxing the tender soft skin "down there" (Hey I'm really trying not to make this a porn blog…that is a different blog… I should be getting props for my efforts). Leg, back etc. skin is tougher and exposed to the elements. Also the skin on your backside is really sensitive! OMG, I almost want to ask for a bottle of tequila and demand a "thank you" after that one! Not only that, but apparently haircolor has something to do with the sensitivity also. The more red hair on a person the more sensitive the skin. That was a new one on me, but my BFF says it's true, and I trust her implicitly!

So guys, throw your ladies a solid and appreciate the effort they go through for you, because God knows, they think you're worth it.

I warned you...it's my blog, and I can talk about what I want!

P.S.  I told my Wax Torturer about the blog and she said I can promote her, so....European Wax Center in Roseville...Ask for Shayna!

Kickin' it with Toby Keith

Ok, maybe just in his establishment…. Did the Country Line Dancing thing last night, and it was a lot of fun. Although, maybe it’s me and I’m feeling my age, but why did it seem like Toby Keith’s (TK) Bar and Grill was taken over by a bunch of 20-year-olds. Yes, I was wearing booty/calf-hugging jeans, and I think I looked pretty damn good, but then you compare yourself to the 20-year-old Country Nymph dancing next to you (and she’s got bling on her ass), and suddenly, it’s taking every ounce of control you’ve got to maintain an air of confidence. It would’ve helped to have my posse stepping with me, but for the 3rd week, they backed out (for good reasons) and I was not going to miss this! If I can go stag to bars in my 20’s (with a lot less experience and wisdom between my ears), then I damned well better be able to handle my business now, right?

“Heel, toe right.. heel toe left, spin, step, step” OMG, how am I gonna memorize all of these steps? I felt like Sandra Bullock in Ms. Congeniality, when she’s trying to learn the dance steps on the stage and practically takes out her fellow Ms. USA contestants”. Maybe if I was hiding a gun between my thighs like she was, I’d have done better! I definitely would’ve been a hell of a lot more confident! No People!!! I would NOT shoot Ms. Country Nymph because she could shake it better than I can. I have other mad skillz that experience has given me…I don’t need to be a hater. But if she would move to the other side of the dance floor, I might be a bit happier.

I’ll definitely be back next week. However, I now have to figure out how to manipulate my schedule to allow me to do this. Line Dancing starts at 8 p.m. I like to be in bed between 8 and 9 to make Vin my bitch in the morning. So I think I’m going to switch my Vin schedule to allow me to sleep in a little later on Thursday Mornings so I can be up later the night before. I left at 9:30, but could’ve easily stayed a little longer and got some more dancing in.

I told my work peeps about the TK dancing extravaganza and they wanted to know who the “Man Eater” picked up on. I said that I wasn’t out to find guys, I was out to learn how to Line Dance. My work peep Jeff wanted to know how many drinks were bought for me and how many guys did I dance with. Really? Gee Jeff, us “Man Eaters” don’t really kiss and tell because we don’t want our prospective victims to figure out our Modus Operandi. This coming from a guy that turns red at the use of the term “Booty Call”, so then I swapped out the term with “sexual congress” and he still turned red and acted like I was the one offering up this stuff, when he asked me a specific question that required the use of those terms! God, being PC at work is totally exhausting for someone like me. Sometimes it’s a physical struggle to clamp my mouth shut and not tell people what I really think.

Anyway…Toby Keith’s Bar and Grill, Folsom CA, at 8 p.m. on Wednesday nights…..Be there!

“Am I the only one that wants to have fun tonight? Is anybody out there, wants to have a cold beer, kick it till the morning light. If I’m gonna raise hell all by myself I will, but ya’ll that ain’t right. Yeah it’s time to get it on. Am I the only one who wants to have fun tonight.” Am I the Only One – Dierks Bentley

"Dead Girls Never Say No"

Ok, excuse my french here, but What the Fuck does that mean? I saw this as a window sticker on the back of some guy's truck. Does this mean he is openly promoting Necrophilia? Does this mean he kills his "girls" and then has sex with them? Does he have "Mommy" issues and doesn't like being told no?  Is he threatening any woman who's thinking about telling him no? Or maybe he's a rapist who takes advantage of his victims then kills them so there's no proof that they ever said "No". Holy Crap!  Really Dude? If any of you knows what this means, please enlighten me, cuz I'm totally in the dark here.

Got to talk to my friend Teensy today. It was really good hearing her voice and connecting again.  She also just got back from a trip to PV and had a good time (God, I miss MX). We were talking about our relationships and where we are in the grand scheme of things.  Somehow we ended up wondering about why I seem to have long-distance relationships.  We were laughing over the fact that it could be some psychological thing with me (wouldn't be the first time...ya'll know I'm pretty warped) and that I'm just not happy with a local guy.

On the drive home, I was thinking about this, but the truth is, I didn't really pursue these guys because they live far away...that was really just coincidental.

Example 1: Ex-boyfriend - We first met when he was 16 and I was 20.  He's the brother of two of my BFFs. He wanted me, and I told him to come back when he was 18.  He did!  I thought about it, but realized the complications because his sisters and I was so tight.   So, I gave him a kiss to remember and put the kibosh on it. Fast forward to my separation and imminent divorce...he's now a resident of Iowa and visiting his sister (it's not my fault he moved from Cali to Corn Heaven).  We talk and he tells me he's still interested and he remembered the kiss. I realize that I can pursue that now without worrying too much that the Sisters won't be ok with it. We're all older and wiser, so I do...and the relationship ends up lasting about a year and a half. So I didn't specifically look for a long-distance guy, so he doesn't count.

Example 2:  CC - When we met, it was a sucker punch for me.  So it didn't really matter where he came from.  He could be a "pod person", an alien (Swingers count as aliens, right? Cuz he's definitely a swinger!) and it wouldn't have made a difference to me (except that I would hold the record for the longest distance...keep up with that Bitches!!). And I wouldn't really say that we're in a relationship. I would say we're "friends with benefits?" We're buddies? Eff it, I don't know what to call it, so IT DOESN'T COUNT EITHER!

So, to the friends that keep asking why I fall for long-distance guys...my answer is SUCK IT!  Those don't count, so you can stop asking!  Hey, it's not like I have a window sticker that says "Dead Guys Never Say No", so what the frak is the problem here?

Stuff....

So the Ex dropped by to pick up something out of the shed, and brought dinner with him. I actually said that I have to pass because it's hard to do "Colin" with a full stomach, and I didn't want to screw up a routine that I'm in my third week on.  Plus, afterward I needed to make/bake my cheddar sausage biscuits for work tomorrow.  Tomorrow is a huge day with 2 important meetings that I skipped Akumal, MX for, so I need to get this right.

Part of me felt bad for turning him down, but part of me felt like I needed to do this, because I know we're never getting back together.  We're divorced for a reason.  But it's hard because he is a good man, a kind man, a faithful man. So I know that the dinner was out of the kindness of his heart, along with the desire to get back together....  He already told me that he would continue to pursue me.  I hope for his sake, that he doesn't because he'll only end up hurt in the long run, and that isn't what I want for him.

It feels good to know that I have walked away and that it isn't necessary for me to re-visit the past, but I know how hard it is to have feelings for someone and not have those feelings returned. It's a different kind of pain that doesn't go away easily. So you try and fill up your day with...things, activities, people and hope that the feeling will ebb and that you'll pull your head out of your ass and look to the future for something different, something better. I can only wish the best for him because he is a good Dad and as I said before, a good man.

As for me, I'm looking for different, better, exciting, challenging, thought-provoking, funny, adventurous, calming, soothing, something.... Since it may take awhile, I'm working on me for now. I need to focus on my work, on my body (my goal is for a more muscular physique without losing the girlie look...can't believe I said that...), and especially my head.  My heart can wait. My heart has been waiting for years and it's quite used to it by now, so a little longer won't hurt anything.  And if I get desperate...I guess I can start looking at kittens (but I'm still not ready for that yet either).

Ok Peeps, gotta pull out the last batch of biscuits and get to bed!  I'm already past my bedtime.

In the Zone

Do you know how there are moments, when your body just kind of clicks into place?  I felt it today.

My muscles were in sync, and I could feel each one expand and contract. I felt so good and alive in my skin. I can tell Colin Farrell (the BowFlex) is paying off and my body is responding to the weight bars.  The fit of my clothes is different. The way my muscles are responding is different.

I think it helps that I'm feeling a little better and not so achy and cold today.  However, that is not going to stop me from getting into the monster jet tub (holds 93 gallons of water), soaking and relaxing and sipping a night cap before bedtime.

In fact, on a regular weeknite, I like to be in bed between 8 and 9.  This way, I can get my sorry butt up by 3:30 a.m. for an hour workout on Vin Diesel (StairMaster), shower and get into work by 6 a.m.  Then, I'm headed home by 3:30 p.m. and do Colin.  If I had more of a life, I guess it could cramp my style, but I am going out on the weekends and I am keeping busy.  And, my buddies let me stay at their crib in Tahoe, so I think I'm doing a lot better than most single women my age.

Now if I can just get my Girlies to do the Country Line Dancing lessons with me!  They are such 'stick in the mud's' and managed to stand me up two weeks in a row!  I need to get my dance on!  So with or without them, I am going this Wednesday night, and I will report back how it went.

BY GOD...THERE WILL BE DANCING! OK....tub time!  Tub by candlelight, and flash...

iComfort for a Brown-Eyed CaliGirl!

Once again, I'm awake.  Although last night I got about 3 hours of sleep.  My houseguest and I put away some serious whiskey shots and talked forever!  We decided to call it a night around 4 a.m., he in the guest room, and me in my big, huge comfy bed.  I was up around 7 and headed to the store for some football food, came back and made some breakfast.  He woke up around 10 (pansy) and we prepared for the Niner Game, I made 7 layer dip, etc...FREAKING AWESOME WIN!! CK7 ROCKS! We also watched the Raven/Patriot game and then he headed back to Travis AFB.

I did some general cleaning up and watched TV, and then headed to bed, but just couldn't sleep. So I noticed a BFF had posted something to FB, which I liked, and she started texting me from Akumal, MX.  She threw out the offer for me to come join them this week, but I have a really important, butt-kicking meeting on Wednesday.  She asked why I was still up, and I said that I have a hard time sleeping without something (kitty) or someone sleeping next to me.  Not sure how we got on the topic, but I was telling her that my bed is still a virgin, and it's been here a year.  She called the ex-boyfriend a douche for not initiating it.

It's actually an awesome bed too!  A Cal-King iComfort for a brown-eyed CaliGirl! I'd been sleeping on waterbeds since I was 16 years old.  When I divorced, I gave up the bed that I carted around with me since I moved out on my own. I didn't know what I was going to replace it with, I just knew that I needed a fresh start, so the bed should be new as well. Fortunately, I had plenty of time to search for it, since the freaking house took longer than I anticipated.

I was walking through JCP while they were having a mattress sale. I had already done some searching elsewhere, and tried the sleep number, Sealy, etc.  I wasn't even at JCP for their sale, but as I was walking through, something caught my eye.... the name iComfort!  Those of you who know me, know what a Mac Addict I am, i.e. iPhone, iMac, etc.  So when I saw that..It was like a sign from, NO..Not God...Steve Jobs!  It basically said, try me!  And I did...and it was LOVE!  It's like a TempurPedic, but the difference is that it has the memory foam and gel, so your body won't run as hot.  So, I got 40% off, plus 20%  and I had a 10% coupon, and this $5,500 mattress was mine for about $2300 with a 25 year guarantee that doesn't start to depreciate until the 15th year! SCORE!

I then had to find the frame that I wanted.  I didn't want one with the sleigh footboard, and I didn't want something frilly/froufrou!  I wanted something dark, masculine and substantial.  I finally found it and I absolutely love it.  The only thing really missing from my awesome bed is a means to tie someone to it.  I mean, you never know when a girl might need to finally initiate the bed and have a little fun with some silk stalkings (remember that TV show??? Loved it), blindfold, etc.

But perhaps I'm jumping the gun here, I really need to find someone to help me initiate it first, then worry about the accoutrements.  I could just do a simple booty call, but I think this bed deserves a little something more, and I'm not really the booty call kind of girl (not to say I haven't done it...it just isn't satisfying).   Ah well...I'll work on that later.

Ok, my mood just shifted...my computer is playing "I'll be seeing you" as I'm wrapping up this post,  so I think I'll just end it before I say something really stupid (not that I haven't done that before...). G'nite Peeps!

"It's 4:03 and I can't Sleep"

"Without you next to me...I toss and turn like the sea".  Ok, it's not really 4:03, but it feels like it could be.

It's always when the night is at it's quietest...My mind seethes and rages.  I long for calm and tranquility and find it ever elusive. I can hear the train in the distance...the long whistle...which you can't hear during the day because I'm too far away and the ambient noises obscure any possibility of hearing the Roseville Train Yard. The whistle does evoke memories of a long ago escapade in a train caboose with a man whose name escapes me (and his name is not worth remembering). He was a pretty boy, and really had no substance between his ears.  And, as I recall,  the only time I've been on a train, and I wasn't there to ride it.

Why can't I find peace? I should be worn out!  I worked out today, cleaned house, went to two different bars to meet friends. I should be getting quality beauty sleep...God knows I need it. The moon is out and although it's not quite a full moon, it is beautiful nonetheless. Still, it doesn't soothe me like it usually does.  It just brings me unanswered questions, and these questions wage a battle in my soul that just won't be quieted.

I got an offer to spend the next week in Akumal. As much as I'd like to go, there's things to be done on my project that cannot wait. But my heart is always in Mexico.  It seems like the best things usually happen there. And with the way our Country is going, I may have to escape there...

There are times when I really feel like I've got this whole "being single" thing on lock...and then there's other times when I feel like I've been cast adrift in a violent storm and I'm holding on to the mast for dear life, just hoping I don't get swept over the side by an errant wave. I'm always strong, I always fight and nothing is going to take me down easily, but I wonder...is the majority of our lives spent being strong and fighting? Do most people feel like there's only a small part of their lives that are calm?

I listen to relaxation programs before I go to bed to help ease my mind and drop my blood pressure.  But within a couple of hours, I'm awake again. My mind churns, and I spend another couple of hours trying to calm it.  Then the cycle begins all over again.  Maybe I do need another kitty. Maybe I need to come up with a new way to exhaust myself.

Actually, I need a man with huge hands to give me a body rub. That would put me out. And not a pansy body rub either.  I hate it when it's just those little squeezes that doesn't accomplish a damned thing except to irritate the crap out of me! I want fingers digging and to feel my muscles being manipulated. I want it hard and rough! I want to feel like my muscles have been used and abused and I want to be able to feel it 2 days later! And after manipulating my muscles, I want my skin rubbed down until it tingles. And I want world peace and all children to be fed...not necessarily in that order.

Ah well...If wishes were horses, then dreamers would ride.  If I could just get some damned sleep, maybe I could be the dreamer!

Heroes...

There are heroes amongst us.  They are everywhere and it's sad that sometimes our eyes and hearts are so closed off that we don't see them or recognize them.  Or if we do, we're too afraid to acknowledge them and say something.

People who do brave deeds and have noble qualities are everywhere.  Yes, there are assholes too, but it's the Yin and the Yang, good and evil.  I think life has taught us that you can't have one without the other. The more I became confident in myself, the more vocal I became and acknowledged special people around me.

I acknowledged one such hero in 2008, and the thing this hero said today was that she didn't think of herself as one, and that no one had called her one.  Isn't it sad that it's only when someone passes away that we acknowledge them as our Hero?  What's the point of that? The amazing thing to me, is that these heroes still manage to aspire to greatness without the positive reinforcement that we could be giving them.

There can great heroes and small heroes. It reminds me of the scene in "While You Were Sleeping" where Sandra Bullock's character Lucy was talking with Peter Gallagher's character Peter about heroic deeds. She said to him "Every day, you give your seat up to someone who needs it" and he replied, "that's not heroic". Her response was "It is to the person who sits there." That line has always struck a chord within me.

How often do we put our hand upon someones arm and lean in and whisper, "thanks for being my hero"?  Do we tell our parents that we acknowledge their heroic deeds in raising us?  Now granted, my parent had a lot of issues and struggles, but there was something that stuck out in my mind. When my brother and I was really young (3 and 4), my mother ran out of money and basically starved to make sure we were fed. To sacrifice for your child is heroic.

When your friends show up to your home and help you clean the inside and outside to prepare for out-of-town guests for your Mother's funeral, that is heroic (especially when you're the crappiest housekeeper in the universe).  When a person shares of their difficulties and how they overcame them and manage to give you words of encouragement to make it through the next few minutes of your life, that is heroic.  When your brother is willing to lay his relationship on the line with with you and tell you things that you don't want to hear, that is heroic.

When our soldiers fight for our freedom, and they don't even know you personally, but are willing to die for your rights, that is heroic. When the families of our soldiers have to live moment-to-moment wondering if they'll ever see their loved one again, that is heroic.  When soldiers bear the casket of one of their own brothers lost, every step they take is heroic.

This is my blog, so this is my definition of heroic.  I continually have to remind myself to be aware of the gifts of people around me.  The gifts they impart to me daily, weekly, monthly and yearly. I must not become callous or used to it, but treasure it and hold it close to my heart.  But more importantly, I must remember to share the feeling with the person who gave it so generously and thank them for being my hero...while they're still with me!

Singing....

I sing. I sing every day and have always sung every day since grade school. A day without singing is a day when my heart is completely devoid of any and all emotion, i.e. dead! It’s always been this way for me. And during those moments when it’s inappropriate for me to break out into song, I sing in my head. Music is lifeblood and without it I feel incomplete.

I don’t have problems singing in front of people, it’s usually the one-on-one moments that are hard. I sang to my MIL in the hospital at night when she was restless. She was a music teacher, so I knew I wouldn’t get any issues there. However, she was a firm believer that singers have big mouths. I think my mouth is average…not sure what made me think of that, but I remember her talking about it.

When I’m in Mexico, you can always find me out on the beach, late at night, listening to the waves roll in and….singing! I always wonder what the guards think, but they humor me, don’t laugh and watch out to make sure I’m safe, so…I guess it’s all good. I sang at my Grandmother’s gravesite. She always wanted my Mother to sing the Beatles “Let it Be” when her time came, but my Mom couldn’t do it. So I belted it out a cappella and after a few moments, others joined me. I think my Grandma would’ve liked that. My buddy "K's" daughter "B" and I used to trade songs. She would call me up on my answering machine, and in her little girl voice, leave me a song (I still have them), and I would call her back and leave her one. If I know a good friend is feeling down, I’ll leave a song to cheer them up. So far, no one has off’d themselves, so my singing must be bearable.

What made me think of this topic? I sent a song to one of my Aussie blogging buddies a few years back, and I know she’s feeling craptacular these days. I told her “I may have to send a song your way” and she replied back “Diz, given that you have an amazing singing voice, the thought of you sending me any song makes me happy.” That just totally made my day. It’s actually an average voice, but…I have to learn to just say “Thank you” when I receive compliments (I have a hard time with that).

So, through the magic of Garage Band, I am posting a song to cheer up my buddy. It’s more of a romantic Country song, but given my funky feeling and yesterday’s post about “inhaling a man’s scent”, well….  P.S. This song is NOT for any married man!

Feeling Funky

I'm feeling a bit funky today. My bones ache, I'm cold all of the time, and I would kill for a body rub! It puts me in a melancholy mood. And to top it off, I get teased by a guy that..well...we shared an attraction, but he's married and I don't mess with married men. It's a part of my chick code of honor.  I don't mess with engaged or married men.  Men with girlfriends, etc. is questionable because I feel like you're trying on relationships to see if they fit.  If they do, you make a commitment and let people know you're not available.  If you're committed, then you'll rebuff any of my efforts to get to know you..right? If they don't, then I can proceed without feeling guilty.  But I digress.

Talking with him is difficult sometimes because the candy jar lid is torqued down and I'm not allowed to eat the candy! I really don't want a married man and God knows, I have enough complications in my life without having to deal with that, but we are friends.  It's just that sometimes it can be difficult.

I think that with the way I'm feeling, on nights like these, the evening is just too quiet, and you can hear the stillness.  And feeling funky just puts me in a mood. It makes me long for the warmth of a man's body, when he's lying next to you and wraps his arm around your rib cage and pulls you close. When his breath is warming your neck and ear and his top leg is thrown over yours. And you close your eyes and just inhale the scent of him. Can you feel anymore secure, contented and wanted than at that moment?

Anyway, my workout went a little too well.  I think I have to lighten up on my weight bars.  I ended up leaving marks in my shoulders and arm pit area when I did the stomach crunch exercises.

Now I look as though I've been through a sado-masochistic session with out the enjoyment of it...Damn it, I just can't remember my "safe" word for the life of me...'Serendipity?' 'Surreptitious?' 'Scrumptious?'  See what happens?  I gotta get me some shut-eye, but I'm having problems sleeping. I think the sleeplessness is having an effect on my health.  At least tomorrow is my Friday.  I have to take a furlough day, so I picked this Friday to parlay it into a 4 day weekend.

Ah well, I'm gonna stop spilling my guts, or I won't have anything to blog about tomorrow.  We'll see what racy theme I can come up with next.  I can tell it may get a little difficult to keep up my resolution to blog every day.  Think I can do it?  I'll be the most emotionally healthy chick on the planet if I can pull it off.  G'nite!

Does Dizzy Refer to Herself in the 3rd Person?

One of my work buddies told me today that it took her awhile to realize that I refer to myself in the 3rd person on my Facebook status.  While I've always done this to some small extent, my BFF SKR asked me over a year ago..."Do you realize that since the split with your ex-husband, you constantly refer to yourself in the 3rd person?"

Wow, I hadn't really thought about it. But I wonder about it more and more. What is behind the thought process of Dizzy that she refers to herself this way? Is she harboring some sort of resentment about her 1st person, so she's decided to abdicate her authority to the 3rd? Did the 3rd beat the crap out of the 1st? Maybe Diz has a split personality! One of those personalities is soft, snuggly and sweet, extremely popular with the lads and just flat out "got it goin on"!  The other is the mean, heartless, weezer skank out to use up and toss away any man that comes her way.

Is it a She-Woman Man Hating bitch thing? Is it a strike out for independence? Maybe Dizzy doesn't really know what life is like now that she isn't part of the institution of marriage, and while she's discovering the whole thing, she prefers to think of herself outside the box.  Really Diz...REALLY??? Were you ever inside the damned box? Uh Oh...I sense an argument brewing between 1st Diz and 3rd Diz. God help us if the 2nd Diz ever shows up and decides to open a can of major Whupass!

Ok, I'm going to try (try being the operative word) and be a little serious here...I don't know why I'm doing this. I think maybe it boils down to my analytical thought process. Maybe its easier to think of myself in the 3rd person so that I can analyze myself objectively as someone else.

Is it possible to analyze yourself objectively? I think so. I believe I’m looking at my naked soul more and more these days, scars and all. I don’t like everything I see, but I like the majority of me. I also have heart-to-hearts with my BFFs and they’re good at setting me straight and helping me be more realistic about things. They keep me in check (especially SKR) and call me out when needed. They also have my back when it comes to the love life (or lack thereof) and are brutally honest if they think something isn’t right, or needs changing.

I think it’s my way of dealing and talking about me. Blogging can be selfish (and I’m not saying being selfish is bad…) because blogging invariably revolves around the writer’s life, perspective, opinions and those who enter the writer’s circle. In my teens and 20’s, I “rarely to never” spoke about myself. My family history is pretty messed up and I was knee deep in the stuff. My way of dealing with it was to bottle it up and not share. But I found myself being an outsider among my friends, extremely critical of others (and myself), and not having an outlet to vent. I was always on the edge of implosion from outside pressures. Lucky for me, my true friends (and I still have them) stuck by my side and basically taught me how to open up. Also lucky for me, was my love of writing letters. I used to write letters to my Grandmother in Alaska all the time. My buddy Hacue has also been a steady recipient of my penmanship (and he puts up with a lot of ranting). I took it to the next level and started writing in journals. Then the Internet age hit and opened up a cornucopia of opportunities to throw the rants out into the universe and see how on target, or really messed up I was/am. And for some reason, it’s easier for me to think and write about myself in the 3rd person. It’s also easier for me to swear and get really vulgar in writing (although enough tequila, and all bets are off!).

While I know some of my audience (I have blog buddies in England, Australia, Tasmania, Arizona, Washington, etc…), I don’t necessarily know all of them. The people I actually send my blog link to are special because I’m going out on a limb and letting them really see me. Not the polished..ok, slightly polished..version that they get at work, or in social situations. They are getting me…and all I can really hope is that they’ll still be with me despite my imperfections and foibles. That at the end of the day, or at the end of my life, these people will be the ones by my side…even if I refer to myself in the 3rd person…and if I have that, I’ll be blessed.

Hacking Email Accounts

No...this is not a "How To" blog. Well, at least not about hacking... Yesterday's blog provided a segue into today's topic, i.e. Hacking into your significant other's email account.

I have a friend who consistently looks into her partner's email account to see if they're keeping their word about not seeing a person that has been detrimental to their relationship. Her partner has no idea that she has access to his account. Unfortunately, she found out things that put a strain on their relationship.

If your partner knows you half as well as they should, coming up with your password is not a difficult thing, unless you make it difficult. Granted, my ex-husband was computer illiterate, so I never really had to worry about him looking at my accounts...and I have four of them, and even if he did, it wouldn't have been a big deal.

The key point being that if your partner can hack your account...so can someone else. You need to take steps to tighten your security from outside influences.  My key passwords are structured around a book I read long ago (and no one knows I read it) and a sequence of numbers. It would take a serious hacker to figure out what it is. Do not associate your birth dates, family birth dates, your anniversary dates, graduation date, etc. with your password!  Take your password totally from left field so that people will not associate it with you.

The other point I'd like to make (cuz it's my blog and I can say whatever I want) is.... I do not try to hack my significant other's accounts.  My ex-boyfriend was also computer illiterate and asked me to set up his Facebook account for him. He had given me his password to his email account, so I used the same one for FB.  However, I have never gone into his accounts without his permission, even when I needed to tighten the FB security options for him. And now that we've broken up, I'm willing to bet he still hasn't changed his passwords, thereby giving me free reign to read anything that comes through FB or his email account if I wanted. I will still never go into those accounts. Why? Because I'd never break the trust. No matter who I'm with, if I have to check out who my man is talking to, and what he's saying...the relationship is over for me. Relationships are hard enough without having to monitor who your man/woman is talking to. I don't want to be a babysitter, and I'm not going to! Not only that, I expect my man to have friendships with both men and women, just as I do. So just because he's talking to a girl, doesn't necessarily mean that he's boinking her.

To be honest, I will have broken it off with my partner long before the urge to hack their account enters my head because I know there will have been signs that this relationship isn't working for us. You know what I'm talking about...that feeling deep in the pit of your stomach that tells you something is wrong. Or, maybe we've had "the talk", i.e. the one where one of us realizes that we want different things out of the relationship. Unless I'm a freaking crazy whack-job, that's usually an indication that maybe this isn't the right relationship.

If I am a freaking crazy whack-job...this is my cue to step it into high gear and try to change you, monitor your every move, hack your email, start designing my wedding dress and personalized stationary with your last name emblazoned at the top, tell your Mother that I can't wait until she's my  Mother too and ask her to help me shop for wedding flowers, ask your Dad if he'll walk me down the aisle, start building a relationship with your boss, buy beers and cigars for your buddies, so they'll think I'm the coolest chick and berate you for not wanting more out of our relationship, etc....I shouldn't know about this stuff, should I?....

This is, of course, based upon the assumption that I'm not married. Marriage takes this to a whole different level, and I believe that you have to work at your marriage.  Hacking the email when I'm married...NO. Talking to you about the fact that I suspect certain things, i.e. having affairs with other women or men, etc. and keeping contact via email...YES.

Granted, this is just my opinion and opinions are like assholes...but to me, my email is like my purse. Stay out of it, unless you ask me.
_________________________________________

My buddies from Georgia, Michael and Patricia asked me to look after their friend Richard who is out at Travis AFB taking a class until Valentines Day.  Since he gets weekends off, I told them I would take good care of him.  He called tonight and we agreed to meet up at my place on Saturday and I'm taking him to Sammy Hagar's Crudo Bar in Roseville.  I told him we'd tear it up and have some fun and he can stay the night in the spare room instead of driving all the way back to Travis.  On Sunday, I was thinking of taking him to old Sac to trip around, etc.  I'm gonna have to consult with my besties to make sure he's getting the most out of his Sac Town experience.  I don't know that I've ever done that kind of hosting before.  Wish me luck....ON THE HOSTING, PEOPLE!!! Get your minds out of the gutter!

On that note, it's been a long DMD day, due to presentations with upper Management.  I did receive the coolest complement from one of the Managers.  He said that the MDP class (it's a class to prepare managers) said that my presentation to them was the best because....I was the only one to talk about mistakes I had made, and what I did to mitigate them!  I busted out laughing!  That totally floored me.  I have no issues telling people about my fuck ups and I have a lot of them.  It isn't the mistakes we make, but how we handle them that make or break us.  I learned that the hard way.  I try to be as blunt as possible and tell it like it is. I appreciate it when others do that for me.

G'Nite Peeps.  Until tomorrow....

So, What Happened to CC?

A couple of people, who have my personal email account, have asked the question..."So, what happened to CC?"

Well, after I left him standing in the freezing rain during hurricane Sandy, on a street corner in new York City...Like the ice-cold bitch princess that I am, and since there's just no getting over me...He decided to swear off educated American women and take Eddie Murphy's advice in Delirious.  He left me a cryptic message about heading to the depths of Africa to find himself a bush woman, or a good ewe.  Just Kidding!

Actually, there's more to this story that I didn't post and I have to post carefully because it's not my right to give up his identity, and there's certain specifics that need to be kept on the DL.

When I met CC, it was something I was not prepared or even planned for, and like I said before...all it took was locking eyes with this guy and I felt as if I had been sucker punched in the solar plexus (that's not really a 'girlie' term...is it?). Before that, I had gotten an ultimatum from my boyfriend that our relationship was all or nothing. I felt that we needed to take our relationship back a few steps and date some more because he really didn't know who I was. He was bothered by the fact that I'm a flirt and that I have fun. I was married for 17 years and during that time, no matter how much I flirted, I was true blue! My ex-husband knew who and what he married and didn't have a problem with it because he KNEW I always stopped when I needed too and I always came home to him! There were other important reasons to break it off too.  I needed time to think about that and the decisions I had made.  I was not looking to hook up with ANYONE!

I know it wasn't something CC had planned for either, because he has a girlfriend at home. And yes, we did discuss our relationships. He was upfront about the fact that his girlfriend was watching his dog, and by that I knew that they lived together, etc.

I like to think that I (or should I say 'we') made the most of the limited time we had and it was a freaking blast. Had I known from the beginning that his sense of humor was as warped as mine is, it may have been a much more dangerous adventure. As it was, it was nice NOT to know what was going to happen from day to day, and better, not to plan my reaction to it.

CC had me thinking on my feet from jump! He's a man that is not afraid to dance, take over a dance floor and not think twice about it. He's very self-assured, intelligent and ruggedly handsome, not in the "model" sense, but in a lived, mature sort of way. I found myself at times reacting extremely hostile to him because I think I wanted to sabotage whatever this feeling was that was drawing me to him. He'd even ask "Why so hostile?" and I'd have to apologize because I could hear myself do it, and not be able to stop myself. Lucky for me, it didn't scare him away.

He handed me his iPhone to program (I'm an avid Mac/iPhone chick) and while messing with it, I included my contact information in the contacts app.  I didn't mention it until the last day.  When it was time to part, I basically said something along the lines of "I put my contact info in your phone. I'm not taking any of your contact info. If this was just a 2 week thing, then walk away and don't contact me. I'll aways treasure our time together in my heart and I'll get over it. If it did mean something more, you can contact me", and I left it at that. I don't know if it was the most spectacularly coolest move I ever made...or if I was being so completely stupid!! It was, however, a leap of faith. I do know that I didn't want to be one of those women who constantly call, email, text and basically hound a guy to death, when he was only engaged in a 2 week booty call. If that's what it was, then I have to let go and just treasure the fun. Within the next 4 hours after we parted, I must've wore out the song "Walk" by the Foo Fighters on my iPod, because it captured the feeling that I had from the whole experience...I was learning to walk again.

After him, there was no way I could go back to the boyfriend. CC had set the bar higher and my mind was crystal clear. So I made sure the boyfriend understood that there was no going back and that my answer to his ultimatum was "I'll take nothing". Don't get me wrong. I still love my ex-boyfriend, and I know that I hurt him horribly. I hurt when I think about the anguish I caused him, but I also know that it just wasn't our time.

So....did CC ever contact me? Will there be a future, or at least contact? Stay tuned until next week when you hear Dizzy say....

Yes, he did contact me. We traded emails for a couple of weeks until the story took a decidedly high school turn (and I'm way too fucking old for HS).  I received an email that said "my girlfriend doesn't want us to talk anymore".  Review of the email, and those before it, left me feeling that it wasn't from him, but his girlfriend, so I left the account alone. Due to circumstances, I ended up sending one last email recently and got an answer back to call him. So we've been talking. He's still in the picture, but he has things on his plate that take precedence, so...we'll see.

Do I think there's a future for us? Like I said before, I don't know, probably not. I have no idea what his take on the entire episode is!  I have no idea what his feelings are, except for what others have passed on to me. As far as I know, I could be to him just what I described I was to those other guys, i.e. he's not used to "my type" aka "conservative, gun toting, crazy, patriotic, outspoken, wicked sense of humor BITCH (January 7th). So, maybe I piqued his interest and he just had to find out for himself...., or maybe I was just a pushy-assed broad that had to get what she wanted, and he just fell in line (I doubt that one though, cuz he really isn't the sort to be pushed around). Maybe it was just the circumstances, i.e. time, place, adventure, weirdo chick with a decent rack...who the fuck knows!!!

But that's not really the point, is it? Funny, I can say that now, but my BFF will tell you what I was ranting about before...and it wasn't pretty.  The point is, I took chances!! I had fun! I stepped totally outside my Jehovah's Witness upbringing and was willing to accept the whole booty-call thing from a complete stranger (let's hope it didn't open the door too wide for that kind of thing....). I was taught a few lessons that I took to heart and I never knew that my "giggling" was a nervous reaction (insider info). I took a leap of faith! And while I don't believe in "happily ever after" I can finally say that I believe in "love at first sight". And if I can be proven wrong on that, then maybe there's a glimmer of hope for "happily ever after" some day...right?

So, now it's time to end this diatribe...after drinking almost a whole bottle of Gewurztraminer with the excellent crab that the ex-husband brought over for dinner (he drank a glass).  No, we're not getting back together, but it's nice that we're still friends, and we can still talk.  I hope I didn't cross any lines with my blog, but if I did, I'm sure the party will let me know, and I may have to pay a penance...hmmmm, that could be a good thing, or a very naughty thing...insert evil chuckle here....