I see what it means to them

If someone asked me, id go.

Id just have to.

Because I appreciate them.

I can’t share the same passion as them, not

the same level, because I thankfully can’t relate.

I thankfully, did not have to endure what they did.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t be thankful and appreciate them.


don’t let me rain on your parade

[I don’t know if your mom is sick, because you’re a lier; I mean Liar; you know]


Your mom is sick, yet you are both going to go join the protest

but your mom is sick

so sick, that you cancelled seeing me

I think its been a week or more since

so your moms sick


you know what?

I felt a sense of RELIEF when you cancelled

I swear to God, I only pretended to be angry

Or maybe I am annoyed with you, but more annoyed with

My mother, and taking it out on you is easier

but i don’t care. I think I know see you

as a friend. Or better yet, I friend-zoned you.


Glad you stopped taking those steroids. That was

the death of us. But who cares. As long as no one is

left hurt. And I’m ok. Really. It was a really really really weird experience

dating a man who doesn’t sleep with you. I mean .. wow. lol.


Anyways. Go have fun, don’t let me rain on your parade

Do I love him>?

How the hell do I know. ?

Trust me, I thought I loved someone once. maybe multiple ‘someones;’

and of course I thought it was love. and maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but what

I do know, is it didn’t work out.

And of course I though they would. really, I did think so.

I don’t really date people who don’t have a chance. I don’t think its fair to.


So they all have a chance. It may be big, it may be small, but its there.

So do I love him?

I mean. yes? no. thats not true.

I care about him. And if I said “love;”

it had to be infatuation. I’m glad we got that phase overwith,

lets get down to the nitty gritty, lets see what you and I are really made of.

Is there love? or can it be built between us?


Well. You have a chance. I don’t know how big it is right now.

Maybe the next time I see you, Ill have it for you.


Because other lives are involved, I take things a little more seriously,

a little more quickly. Otherwise, i’d make you wait longer.


I shouldn’t have to decide so soon. I should get to keep deciding,

learning, and figuring it out.


Why do people rush each other to that point of comfort and stagnation?


Isn’t it more exciting not knowing? and constantly doing delightful things for

one another? I guess thats what they call the “courting” stage. I dig it.

The fear of getting what you said you wanted.

The truth is, i’ve been there before, and perhaps, that decision still hunts me today.

I married, out of fear. Fear that I couldn’t take care of myself and that no one else would do it.

I also married out of revenge to my last true love affair.

Doesn’t matter.

Anyways, so here I am, about to visit a nice young man who has a million things going for him. This will be our second try. He blames himself for it not working out the first time, I mostly blame myself, or at least take responsibility (with no real regret).

I let him go. On my birthday.

Yes I had other options, but I always have. A strong phenomena.

I can’t remember why I broke up with him the first time. Was I looking for better and didn’t find it? Or was I disappointed in him. Did something happen to turn me off?


Of course, he didn’t drive me back home. That was not good.

But truthfully, I was crazy anyway. So who cares. None of it made sense; it still does not.


Here am I, constantly announcing I want children. And someone is very directly answering me that I am going to have all that I want, and I already mourn my freedom, my independence, my lack of time to pursue any passion or career.

My every decision hunts me.

I also don’t think I am who I wanted to be before children. But children might make me brave, feel complete. It might be just what I need.

I almost feel guilty that I want children more than to focus on who “the man of my dreams” is suppose to be. I use to focus on my relationships, dates, men, then suddenly, it didn’t matter as much as finding the right father of my future children.


And I move too fast. I don’t actually know what he will be like.

He’s very wrong to say I want them right now.

I’m not interested in it.

God do I want to be with him at all? Or am I just freaking out.

wtf do I want. GAWD.

I wish I had more motivation, focus, and guts. No excuses. Really go for it.

Where and how can I get that drive?

She never was in love either.

I asked my mother, have you ever had a broken heart?

And I asked sincerely. Most women her age have, and often, more than a few.

Her answer did not surprise me. She said yes once;

“When I was younger. ”

what age? I asked.

“14 I think. I lost my virginity to him.”

So what happened?

“Other women, I was jealous.”

I laughed as I said, wow mom, you’re going to die a jealous woman.

She lifted one eyebrow, didn’t say a word, and shrugged her shoulders, as if she didn’t care, and accepted herself as she is.


I wondered, if thats the only time she’s ever been heartbroken that she can recall, how does she know she’s ever been in-love since?

I know she married young out of necessity. Her parents were not very loving, religiously conservative and arguably abusive.

She married to get away.

She’s been married 7,8 times.

I always wondered if her and I had anything in common with her.

The more time I spend with her, I see I do. I don’t know if it’s wise to try to change those things, or better to just accept them and who I am -genetically.

“you’re treating this like a business transaction”

I’ve been told that once or twice. Of course I go through feelings of excitement, passion, gushy love, but it soon steps aside, and then I start thinking critically.

But this piece was suppose to be about her.

She’s very tough love. She doesn’t have many friends, doesn’t mind insulting others if it means she gets to speak her mind. Her entitled freedom, means the most to her. Not getting along.

She sure does yell quite a bit. Easily angered, but seems to get over thing just as easily.

Extremely confrontational.

Entitled; demanding.

Does not let anyone tell her what to do.

Quick to end things if she feels wronged.

But some good things…

Great sense of humor, laughs at everything. Gorgeous most of her life, and even now,

quite beautiful. Whatever office she works at, her co-workers love her, and her presence is missed when she is gone. Other people in her life, wouldn’t believe that. Theres something about the working atmosphere that she enjoys. She is hard working, and a perfectionist.

Lovely voice like her sisters. Her accent is cute also.

Very organized and clean.

(“cleanliness is close to godliness”-ME)

Apparently, also good in bed. Is free and comfortable expressing her desires. Reciprocation also turns her on.

When she feels loved, she loves back and is pretty loyal.


I guess for a woman who has been married so many times, I would have expected her to have felt broken hearted multiple times (as she was the one who left them all), but her response was her 14year old self.


Anyways, I go from “She’s sweet, not too bad.”

especially when we are both laughing

(I get along much better, and laugh at her humor, much more when I smoke)

To, wow, how did I end up with….





“I think it’s their spirit. Not jaded yet. But also thats the range of what’s most out there and single in San Diego.”

Thats the answer I get when I ask a 38 year old man why he dates 21 year olds.

I mean wow. Do you see what I’m talking about? Some men don’t even give older women a chance because they perceive them to be “jaded.”

So then you’re genius solution is to date younger women, so they can become jaded faster? For the love of god, leave young women to date young men. FTLOG (for the love of GOD).

Like really? you need an almost 20 year difference when you’re looking for a date?


Another idiot bites the dust. I told him I have nothing in common with a man his age, who feels the need to date 21 year olds.

He assumed, based on my looks, that I was 23 “but you’re so young for me!”

Idiot. What is wrong with society. If my daughter tried to date an older man, that old, i’d slap her straight and tell her to stop acting like a gold digging hussy. And i’d slap some sense into him too.



The man with the suit and tie.

RVH. I never said no.


I was madly in love with that idiot.

How? Why? I don’t know. I was obsessed.

I met him after my divorce. Ok so I met him before my divorce.

You could almost say he made me WANT to get a divorce. Without a doubt.

He made me feel alive. And he made me wish I were dead. It would take three years before I really knew who he was. It would take three years to know he was putting on a facade.

Regardless, I loved that man. Obsessed over him for three years. He NEVER gave into me at the right time. Never wanted to be with me when I wanted to be with him. We kept “missing each other.” He never found me option-less. And I just didn’t trust him. I was madly in-love, but I didn’t trust him.

But I guess I broke all the rules, according to my friends.

and the worse part about him is how he made me feel I wasn’t good enough. I use to think it was my fault. I use to think there was something wrong with me. When the facade finally came tumbling down, it was one of our greatest and saddest moments. I finally came to know my success was important to him because he was filled with fear. And my lack of success brought about painful memories he was unwilling to discuss. We were doing so well during that time. But he completely stopped talking to me. He didn’t want me to know who he was, who he is (as you never escape who you were, it is always with you).

Nothing and no one could keep me from seeing him. I would always , always make time for him. I would always risk seeing him. He was my exception to every rule. I loved loving him. And I didn’t know what was more painful, not receiving his love back when I wanted it, or choosing to not love him anymore. I often choose the pain of being in love and without him. I didn’t want to move on.

“The heart wants what the heart wants.”

To this day I still feel like I need to make something of myself to make him proud. Though I don’t thankfully don’t think of him as often as I use to. I use to not go days without thinking of him. Then weeks. Then months. But never has a full year passed by without me thinking of him, even reaching out to him.

But god, I was crazy. I couldn’t even speak when I was around him.

I was shy. so shy. I literally couldn’t speak. Other than to tell him that , I could say nothing more. And instead of being flattered, he would be annoyed, and then I would be annoyed. And I don’t know if we would ever really fight (only happened once, and that was dramatic and awful), most nights spent together would be spent watching Seinfeld, and end in us making love. Well, it would end with me caressing him, playing with his hair until he fell asleep. No matter how tired I was, I was always willing to caress him to sleep.

In the morning, he would wake up, snuggle, then get showered and dressed for work, kiss me, and take off.

I once didn’t kiss him back. In fact I stared at him and said nothing. I was in too much shock.

It had been some time since we had seen each other, I think I was trying to resist him. Or maybe I was seeing someone else. Or maybe both. Regardless, we went out for drinks, came back to his place, and he started to profess his love for me. I attempted to stop him in his tracks. I said “see, you really don’t have to say that to me. We can just be together, and we don’t have to use those words.”

His “I love you’s” hurt me. And overtime we ever met back up, after a long stretch of not seeing one another, he would say, “you know you’re my girl right?” Never really waiting for a reply.

God. The last time I saw him, he wanted me to swear I would meet up with him the next day. I wouldn’t. He had a gf (an official, live-in gf), and I had a bf, official, who lived across the street from me. He again, told me how much he loved me. That we were it. And I couldn’t give in. I loved him so so so much. But I hated him too. Because of him I went on to date many other men. Say I love you to many more men. Rare, had I ever claimed to be “In-love.” Quite rare.

He never did answer his phone the following day. Or any day after.

Going back to the time when I tried to tell him to stop using the phrase “I love you,” when he politely refused, I also asked if he had been seeing anyone else.

He said no. I slept with him. Might have said I love you back; I imagine I did.

Then the next morning, clearly something in my stomach didn’t feel right. I wanted to prevent myself from getting hurt by him again. In three years, I had never looked at his phone once. It is so true, that he stopped putting a passcode on his phone, because he knew I would never look through it.

But that next morning, I did. I opened it to find multiple text messages from women he was talking to. I tried to quickly look down the list, to memorize their names (I don’t know with what intention), but he had so many names in his phone, messages from so many women, I couldn’t even count. 5? no. at least 10. All I know is it was too many to memorize or truly count. I opened one of the messages. He was saying sweet nothings to one woman who exclaimed she had left her briefcase behind.

I was dead heartbroken. In shock. and dead heartbroken. So much so, I didnt even have the heart to yell at him when he got out of the shower. I thought that would be the last time I ever talked to him.

Oddly enough, when he left that morning, kissing me without me kissing him in return, I cleaned his whole place. Even rearranged it. I think I was thinking I was going to say something smart to him like “now your place looks decent enough for all your women.” But I never did. He casually said “thanks for cleaning my place!” in a text. I might have said you’re welcome. We went on with our lives not talking for months.


I had either ran into him or decided to randomly invite him out one evening (the latter most likely) when I was out with girlfriends. He said yes.

My best friend, and my best friends best friend, and him, all hung out in the sports bar as he entertained all three of us (he was always so talented at that. so talented.). He came up with the idea of karaoke. My best friend invited her bf, and the other girl decided to call it a night.

Karaoke was a blast. First, he surprised me by signing us up for a duet. Then he surprised me by killing it in his rap performance. At that point, I hardly believed he listened to rap at all. Then, most interestingly, he signed himself, and my girlfriends bf up, for them to have a rap duet. He happened to do much better than my girlfriend’s bf.

At some point I was drunk. At some point he followed me into the bathroom. At some point we had sex. At some point we had to remain perfectly still as someone used the facility right next to us. (yes it was a first).

Then we sat at the bar together alone, as we watched my best friend and her bf get into one of their regular drinking fights. No shame in their game.

As him and I sat at the bar, overlooking the commotion, he started mouthing off about my girlfriends bf. Saying he was probably angry because he couldn’t rap as good. Then mouthed off something about him not truly knowing what it means to live a hard life. “I bet he never had a gun held up to his head.” Shaking his head, he started to sob.

What he proceeded to say, I don’t think I’ve ever shared with anyone, so I won’t even here. But it was a moment coming from a place of truth, and I was grateful he shared it with me.

I never heard from him for the longest time after that. I think a year or so. I moved before I ever saw him again. Then when I came back, we met up again, and he told me he loved me, when he had a gf, and I didn’t say no, but I didn’t say yes.

I never said no.


P.s. I hope this post was confusing, I wanted it to read like how I felt at the time: up down, up down, what time is it? Where am I? Those three years were a blur.

Girls Who Know How To Win IT

This is to all the lovely ladies out there who know how to win it.

I am applauding you. I don’t know how much BS you went through,

but gosh darn, you did it.


This is also dedicated to my beloved friend and temporary (in the middle of a break-up) ex-roommate: Sarah (not her real name).


Ok so, lets get started.

My gf Sarah came to an age (28) where she feared she was wasting precious time in the dating world. After breaking up with her ex-bf who she was certain she would marry, she suddenly found herself back on the market, and in a new city.

Why did she break up with him? Well…lets just say he had a minor drug problem? Was he a loser? You decide. Formally educated, and an engineer. Regardless. It was good she ended it. Or maybe he did? But who cares. Good riddens.

So anyways. She was out on “The Hunt.” After trying to meet men organically, with no luck, as I remember how angry she was that every good looking man in town seemed to be either taken or “gay,” she then proceeded to give a go a online dating. YEs. Online dating. It’s what everyone is doing now days.

At first, coming from a more conservative background, she would make the men she went on dates with, wait 2-3 months before being intimate. However, for better or worse, my nosy boyfriend at the time said she was doing it all wrong, and that waiting that long would make most men either loose interest, think she wasn’t interested, and they would probably be sleeping with the other women they were seeing..(OTHER WOMEN?! Thats right folks. No one, at least in the beginning, is monogamous. It just isn’t happening anymore. Certainly, not if you met them online. You are lucky if they are only talking to three others. So brace yourself).

She thought things were going exceptionally well with one gentleman in particular, he was patient about sex, but once they were intimate, I recall her saying it had only happened a couple times. He didn’t seem to have a strong force for it (and mind you, Sarah was most mens type). He also tried to claim she might have a drinking problem because she had a cocktail overtime they went out to eat. Also put down women here and there…making some odd misogynistic bitter comments. She never confronted him directly, but they soon lost touch. After having met some of his gay friends, she wrote him off as gay too.

After kissing a few more toads, and perhaps taking my ex bfs suggestion of being intimate a little sooner, she finally found her keeper. The second night they met was over my house and a little gathering I was throwing on the roof of our condo building. Perfect romantic setting! Fireplace and all.

Everything seemed to be going wildly smooth between the two of them until one day, when they had made plans, he suddenly stopped answer her texts and calls (though she had only sent a few). Finally when he did, he politely let her know he was too busy and had to cancel, that a sudden emergency had come up. I saw the tears float softly down her pink cheeks as she calmly said “ok, ok no problem; ok talk to you later, hope your day gets better.” I sat in disbelief. How in the hell could this woman be so kind and understanding to an idiot who just ruined her weekend plans, with really, no explanation, and worse of all, very very last minute. I was literally BLOWN away.

She took a deep breath in, whipped her tears away, and asked if I had any plans, and if maybe we could make it a girls night? I don’t know what my plans were, but I couldn’t resist, of course I had to say yes. I pitied and envied her at the same time.

And we did just that. We drank, we laughed, danced, took pictures, got hit on, and carried on with our night without a care in the world.

I learned a valuable lesson that day that I never did apply. Stubbornly, I always call men out on their bullshit, I don’t stop myself. And I don’t even feel bad when its over. Ok. Sometimes I feel bad, but I find ways to justify it to myself, and make myself feel proud. But the truth is, I think you have to let some things go. Thats just the bottom line. You can’t argue about everything. You can’t call someone out on everything. And until they are yours yours, they are free birds. And they don’t like to feel otherwise, until they have made that commitment to you.

Do they end up together? Love ever after?

Well.. I can save that story for next time. Yes, I can at least tell you he did become her exclusive boyfriend.




Lets Write About Love

Lets write about love.

I have been afraid to write about it for a long time.

When I was a bit younger, I’d have no problem.

I was full of the youthful blind optimism.

Full of life.

Of course, life then happens, and as it does,

you become that jaded almost 30 something year old.

It creeps up on you. And although you still fall in-love,

It is short lived. Why? Many reasons. One of the greatest,

has to be because deep down, a-part of you stop believing

in love. Just completely stop. And you start waiting for these

supposed “true colors” to come out in someone, or,

you start fearing they will find something in you not to like.

It always is that case; this waiting game.

So then true love becomes very ..

temporary to say the least.

You are almost unwilling to go out again, but the harder you

try to stay single, the more men want to be with you.

They not only love the challenge, the conquest,

but they also think you must be something special if

you are too good for them.

And what do you do? Remain too good for them, until they

loose interest? or give in, only to have them realize,

Oh, your normal. Once your guard is down, you want to

be accepted as a human and loved as one. Not this constant

game of making them work for your approval.

But even if you were to make them work for your approval,

non-stop lets say… it still wouldn’t work. Something would

make it not work.

How do people end up married? Oh gosh. Coercion.

Manipulation. Correct game playing.

Each player must play the rules of the game, and

“play to win.”

Must be careful to not give-in to your own desires and temptations.

Must be careful to not show weakness.

Maintain control.

You play to win, and there are rules. They will push your limits.

But you remind yourself, you are there to win. In it to win it baby.

Like my friend Sarah(not her real name).

She played to win. I don’t know that it all worked exactly as

she wished it, but ultimately, she got what she wanted, or close to it,

but more importantly: she’s happy.

(read about her story on the blog titled – Girls who know how to win it)

If you are out there, like me, in this big world…trying to juggle

life, and love simultaneously, and often find you are crying yourself to sleep, feeling like you’re never going to find your “some-one” (yet

remarkably falling in-love at least once or twice a year, maybe more),

I can relate.

Is it us? Is it them? Is it everyone?

I will not. I repeat, I will notttt give you love advice.

But I have dated enough, to be able to share my experiences with you.

All of them. No holding back.

Brace yourself.