Put a Ring On It

"If you liked it, then you shoulda put a RING on it"... God Bless Beyonce. She's ranting about what I am feeling. Well, maybe not puttin' an actual engagement ring on it, and most certainly not a penis ring (gross). But, how about dinner? What the hell happened to a nice dinner date? I'm talking about a proverbial ring.

And this ranting feeling is because I've got a date next Friday night to go listen to live jazz with Mr. Good in Bed. So Mr. "GIB" and I have been knowing each other for about 5 years. I believe our first bedroom encounter happened on January 1st, 2006 (after 2 dates). Over those 4.5 years, I've broken it off with him roughly 4 times. Yup, 4. He just keeps coming back. He's persistent and cocky and sexy and he rocks my world. We've never been in an actual "relationship", unless you consider a couple of dates followed by the best sex of my life as a relationship. I consider him to be my relational bed buddy. The problem? I like him outside of the sack. But, all we've been is the sack.

So I broke it off the no strings sex with GIB a few months ago, explaining that I was dating other people, and it just jacks with my head way to much to be sleeping with him while I'm looking for my potential new boyfriend. And although it wasn't an ultimatum, it was honestly a last ditch effort to try to con him into actually dating. He didn't take the bait. It also doesn't help that we are so comfortable with each other that he accidentally screamed out "I love you" during an "intense" moment. Don't worry, I laughed and didn't take it to heart. But, I knew that I might be next, and thus must flee this toxic situation stat.

After the break off, I got a few crude "sext" messages from him and one email, which I ignored, and didn't hear too much of a peep out of him until a few days ago.

A few weeks ago I met someone new and promising. Stage right enter "Mr.Really Nice Guy (RNG)". He takes me to dinner, but I'm fairly certain won't break the bed or rip my clothes off before we even get the front door closed. He's nice. He's thoughtful. He's cute. We seem to have much in common, and he's super into me.

So GIB sends me the longest email he's ever composed. He asks about my job, my summer, and says he'd like to get together to chat-- as friends. REEEEEEAAALLY? So after a few bantering emails back and forth, it's a date. He will pick me up on Friday night at 8. Not this Friday, but the next. A man who plans two weeks in advance? Well that kind of gets my motor running. This Friday? I have a date with Mr. RNG (really nice guy). He's not picking me up at my insistence. I'm weird about new potentials knowing my address. GIB has obviously known for awhile. He's my go to booty call.

And the thing that makes me madder than a hornet at myself is that for years I've wanted GIB to turn into an RNG and be in a LTR- with me. Now I've got a guy who I can tell is headed that direction. He wants marriage and kids and the whole nine yards. And yet... I'm more excited about my jazz date with GIB. He finally decided to "put a ring on it", but is he serious about dating me? I'm spending a Friday night to find out. I however will not shave for two days prior to the date, and will be wearing my most hideous granny panties in an effort to insure myself against any advances made by GIB. He knows I'm weak. RNG has yet to learn that lesson. As Mae West used to say, "A hard man is good to find." Here's to treading lightly.

All Aboard the Crazy Train

Allow me to introduce myself... I'm a crazy magnet, and therefore your conductor on today's ride on "The Crazy Train." Yup, you heard correctly... crazy people are naturally drawn toward me. They can't help themselves. I should have gone into the field of counseling... I might have been a millionaire by now. However, as of late, the "crazies" I've been referring to have been of the male variety. So I've been doing my best to "put myself out there." Date more. Be open to the possibilities. And, it seems to have blown up in my face. So, I've met some guys on an online dating site, and I've went out with a few of them. Some normal, some a little weird, some just not for me, and this one in particular... CRAZY (about me, and not in a flattering way)... I also had to start this new blog as he did some digging (against my wishes) and sought out my old blog. He crossed a boundary that I requested he not cross, by searching for my Facebook page and somehow finding my blog linked to a comment I had made (my profile does not show up when searched. It is hidden, because I don't share it with every Tom, Dick and Harry that I go out with, because if you're my friend on FB, then I can't talk about you-- okay?) In addition, he lied to me on our second (yes, you read correctly- second) date about his divorce being final. He also sent me two stark raving mad emails... which you will get to read pieces of... until I finally sent a very curt email... that I will also share. There were a couple of other crazy emails. I won't bore you with all the details. However, I'm all about the sharing.



The confusion is due to the fact that I had a really great time on our first 2 (and only) dates. I laughed. I had fun. The conversation was great. The second date ended with a great butterflies in the stomach, and I want to jump your bones kiss and a "when can I see you again?"



"Friday" was my reply. A mere 4 days from now. You would have thought I had sentenced the man to life in solitary confinement. And so the persuading ensues... cute at first, but I held my ground. And then it begins to get a bit irritating. But, I recall the great kiss and the fun time I had and my patience stretch a bit longer. Then I get this in my inbox::

"on top of that when it comes to restraint, I'm sure you know I have  
none...  I'm extremely decisive. I want it or I don't. split second  
decision, based on a gut feel, reinforced (I hate that word) by a bit  
of experience and in this particular case, one really REALLY great  
kiss. And my gut feel without all the extra stuff is rarely wrong...  
(un)fortunately for me you happen to be the exception to the exception  
to the rule. WTH???? Most everything about you is new to me and I'm  
not afraid to say I love it!
 
OK.. I know that previous statement is probably some red flag  
according to most of the bazillion relationship books you may or may  
not have read, but I bet it's a green flag according to at least one...
 
Let's come back to sanity for a second... I know we don't know each  
other nearly well enough to make any kid of decision. I'm not asking  
you to move in with me... I'm not asking you to marry me... I'm not  
asking you to sleep with me... All I'm saying is I want to see you  
more... I want to talk to you more... I want to get to know you  
better... If you want to make me kiss you, that's your thing... ;)
 
All this is not meant to be any kind of persuasion. It's just me  
spilling my guts to you... Before the kiss... before the citrus  
beer... before the fried green beans... before the costume jewelery...  
even before the pithy cute sexy witty emails... there was something  
worth exploring...
 
I don't know what it is and I'm sure I never will, but I respect it  
and on some messed up level I like it, so thank you for being you and  
doing the things you do... It's all good...
 
FYI... if we ever get to a point where we sleep together, the first  
time at least we won't do anything more than sleep... That's one of MY  
rules :) Granted I HAD a rule of no kissing that early and you somehow  
shattered that...
 
I almost want to call you... how messed up is that? I do not like to  
talk on the phone more than 45 seconds..."

And to this email I make no reply.  In the words of avid texters around the globe, "WTF"?

And so because I didn't reply... roughly 50 minutes later, I get this email: 

"You don't even understand how much I respect you...

 
Sit down...
 
I almost didn't tell you this, and with anyone else I probably wouldn't...
 
I found you... As much as I want to I'm not clicking through. You have  
no idea how big that is. It's like you giving me your address... I'm  
very tempted, but I'll stay away I promise. I came across it while  
trying to find you on facebook - you talked about facebook last night  
but you're hidden. Nice job on that by the way...
 
Al Gore might have invented the internet, but in a hostile takeover I  
now own it. If it's out there I can access it... But I didn't... I  
swear!
 
There's a part of me that really really wants to use this information  
as leverage, but I won't... I can't. That's not cool and I do not want  
to be "that guy"... My heart is beating awfully fast though. I wish I  
could see your eyes... I wish you could see mine... I love eyes... and  
babies... Anyway...
 
Really though if you tried to hide yourself you did a great job! I  
don't think anyone other than I (or is it "me" in this situation?)  
could find you. Granted I wasn't trying that hard (but again, I got  
some serious skilzzz!) You slipped up once and that's how I found you...
 
Yeah you rock, I rock, we rock...?
 
I do want to read all about you when you're ready for that... Better  
yet I want to hear about it... I can wait. Jokes aside... I'm  
willingly, patiently waiting. I want to know you more. When you're up  
for it...
 
Phase two of my master plan is now in effect :)
 
MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! :)
 
(last two lines were a joke if you didn't know...)
 
loveyaseeyabye"

Dear Lord... explain to me again why I date, and why like a stupid ninny, I let this guy know my last name and pick me up for our second date? Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

And so I finally reply after a bit of deliberation, and after making sure my pistol was loaded: (this is a paraphrase)

Get a hold of yourself.  You're freaking me out.  And after a bit of "googling" of my own, it seems you are in fact still married.  So, on top of completely freaking me out, crossing boundaries that I made crystal clear should not be crossed, you are technically still married.  I can't see you anymore.  Best of luck to you.   

Yet, in my head, all I can think is..."WINNER, WINNER.  CHICKEN DINNER".  I'm going to be single forever. 

Mae West, Anyone?

What sassy girl doesn't love some Mae West?  Here are some of my favorite "Mae Westyisms":

A dame that knows the ropes isn't likely to get tied up.

A hard man is good to find.

A man can be short and dumpy and getting bald but if he has fire, women will like him.

A man has one hundred dollars and you leave him with two dollars, that's subtraction.

A man in the house is worth two in the street.

A man's kiss is his signature.

A woman in love can't be reasonable - or she probably wouldn't be in love.

All discarded lovers should be given a second chance, but with somebody else.

An ounce of performance is worth pounds of promises.

Any time you got nothing to do - and lots of time to do it - come on up.

Anything worth doing is worth doing slowly.

Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before.

Cultivate your curves - they may be dangerous but they won't be avoided.

Don't keep a man guessing too long - he's sure to find the answer somewhere else.

Don't marry a man to reform him - that's what reform schools are for.

Every man I meet wants to protect me. I can't figure out what from.

Give a man a free hand and he'll run it all over you.

He who hesitates is a damned fool.

He's the kind of man a woman would have to marry to get rid of.  

I like restraint, if it doesn't go too far.

I never loved another person the way I loved myself.

I never worry about diets. The only carrots that interest me are the number you get in a diamond.

I only have 'yes' men around me. Who needs 'no' men?

I only like two kinds of men, domestic and imported.

I see you're a man with ideals. I better be going before you've still got them.

I speak two languages, Body and English.

I used to be Snow White, but I drifted.

I'll try anything once, twice if I like it, three times to make sure.

I'm a woman of very few words, but lots of action.

I'm no model lady. A model's just an imitation of the real thing.

These are the rules we should live by.  

Calling All Tongue Sluts...

I need a little someplace to jot down my thoughts... the ones that are a little scandalous or just don't quite fit into my public "persona".  We all have one... a persona.  Basically, these are the assumptions that people make regarding who we are as people.  I will tell you that I am a fairly open book.  However, I'm not one to go "airing" what some might consider to be my dirty laundry.  Personally, I think the dirty laundry is what makes me interesting.  It adds the "spice".

Roxy is simply the alter ego of my genuine girl next door persona.

First I'll tell you a bit about me..I typically always do the right thing or try.  I follow the law (for the most part- see below).  I have a moral barometer that is probably better than most (including clergy).   I believe in God and the 10 commandments.  I love America.  I don't own a sex swing. I'm a 30something single girl who has never been married, and I have no children.  I would like to have both. I don't sleep with, make out with, or "date" married men (this goes back to the moral barometer).  Although I do sincerely believe that a little innocent flirting helps everyone regardless of if your marital status.  I occasionally smoke weed-just a tad (hey- it's naughty and only happens about once a year).   I've slept with 8 men in all-- maybe 9-- there are a few years in there that are kind of fuzzy.  But who's counting?  I've loved three men in my life.  I've given more blow jobs than I can count or recall (man pleaser).  And I'll most certainly kiss on the first date, sometimes before.  In college and a few years post-grad, I was a complete tongue slut.  I would sometimes kiss a few different guys in one night, but never (with one exception) went home with anyone except my bestfriend.  That was the rule.  Some may call it a tease... I call it taking what I like, and leaving the rest.  I've gone to third base in a dark alley in Puerto Rico, also against the side of a building in Mexico, and once on the back patio of a bar in college.  It was cold... no one was out there.  That's Roxy- unplugged.

I'm a bit of a free spirit.  But, I am sometimes super concerned with what people think of me.  And I shouldn't.  If I knew how little time they spent actually thinking about me, it wouldn't be justified to worry about.  Narcissism at it finest, huh?  

I love fat baby rolls, the smell of fresh cut grass, sharing popcorn at the movie, and I love men.  I just haven't found one to love forever.  Until then... I'll have fun with either  "Mr. Convenient, Mr. Cute, or Mr. Great in Bed."

I'm looking for a few more "free spirits" to join me in this blog.  One writer is just so dull, don't ya think?  And it's an exercise to let go of my inner narcissist!


The rules:
1) You must keep your identity concealed to all but the writers you invite to participate. 
2) You must use your "bar name" or stripper name in lieu of your real name
3) You must use a sassy profile picture that again, conceals your identity. 
4) You must remember that content can be a tad scandalous, uplifting, relevant to others or funny, but not X-Rated.  A little PG-13 with a smattering of "R", but always tasteful. 


If you are interested,  leave a comment via your anonymous profile and I will add you to the "writers" list.  I've got comments turned in approval only mode, so you can send me your email address if need be.  Please... don't give away your identity or the identity of the other writers.  Circle of trust, right?