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Prioritizing in 2015

As you know, I haven’t been doing enough writing lately. And it isn’t just here–my YA career has suffered as well. Be that as it may, I wanted to give one last update before closing the year out and letting you in on a key resolution for 2015.

Anyway, here’s the Reader’s Digest condensed version of the rest of 2014:

Date 37 – Seven dates in the space of two weeks. I really thought he might have been “The One.” He told me he wanted me to pick out a house with him, where he wanted to get married, and where he wanted to be buried. And then he went MIA. When I drunk-texted him a month later, saying basically, Look–just tell me what I did wrong so I don’t make the same mistake with the next guy, he replied, You didn’t do anything wrong. It was just moving too fast. Seven months later, I found out this peach of a guy had (most likely) given me HSV-2.

Date 38 – I can’t write about him. For one thing, I’m pretty sure he’s psychically intuited that I’ve written about my love life online and is defensive about it. And for another, I fell in love with him hard. Our relationship lasted four months, ending back in July, but I’m still not over him. The story doesn’t seem to have completely wrapped with Date 38, though. In fact, we’re texting back and forth right now, as I type this. But maybe I’m just fooling myself. Probably. Although his cat really likes me, which I find amusing. Last time I was there, about a week ago, he kept giving me kitty-nose kisses (and he’s normally pretty antisocial with everyone except Date 38 himself).

And then there are the rest. Date 5 is still a friend with benefits (great benefits, as you know ;). Date 31 wants to steer clear of me and my HSV, so I haven’t seen him since some random angry-at-Date-38 sex back in June. Date 39 thought I was too nice for him to date (joke’s on him!). I’m still seeing Date 42, who’s actually famous in a geeky-cool sort of way (seriously–dude has almost 5000 friends on facebook; he holds a world’s record in his profession/sport), but I’m concerned he might share some key traits with my ex, so I’m not letting myself get too attached. Date 43 was another contender (a 50-something partner in the-profession-that-must-not-be-named who I was totally smitten with), but he turned out to be a bit enigmatic in ways I wasn’t so thrilled about. As in, is he mega-possessive or just bipolar? Couldn’t figure the guy out, but it’s over now anyway, so I need to just forget the way he took me all night, not asking permission, no matter how fulfilling it felt.

The rest aren’t really worth mentioning. Suffice it to say, I’m still struggling to find a guy who doesn’t want to have kids (one guy I met even told me he had embryos frozen in a local fertility clinic, ready to go!). Frighteningly enough, I can picture having a child with Date 38, and I’ve told him so. Can’t help but think that nugget of info has been rattling around in his brain since July, but yikes! God forgive me for even thinking such things!

Anyway, this is it. I’m saying goodbye and sailing (or, rather, flying) off into the sunset. It’s time to get more serious about my “real” writing again, since I need to sell another book in the traditional arena. As soon as I finish typing here, I’m going to pull my e-book off Amazon. A few months from now, this blog will disappear as well.

Thanks for reading and sharing in my journey. I wish you all well.



Context: Dates 31.6-8, 35.1-2, and 14.4

Before I get to telling you about Date 37, who deserves a solo entry, just a quick update on where I was at in the dating arena. As you might recall, Date 31 was the sadistic nice Jewish boy who loves country music (and the way I give head). He would be so appalled if he knew I was writing this! Hehe. Anyway, he and I fall into the friends-with-benefits category since we love having sex but know we’re not right for each other based on where each of us is in life (i.e., he wants kids/I *don’t* want any more kids).That said, like me and Date 5 (whom you might recall has porn-star-worthy anatomy), Date 31 and I have an understanding that if we find someone we think is a serious contender, the benefits part of our friendship will be put on hold (hopefully indefinitely, but, you know…this isn’t our first rodeo).

Anyway, here’s the sequence of my dates just prior to meeting Date 37:

Date 31.6–He comes over to my place in his work clothes because he has client meetings afterward. All I can say is, yum! I love seeing a hot man (especially one I know is going to give it to me and hard) in a suit. Have I mentioned that Date 31 is a financial adviser? Well, he is. He works for a nationally known investment-banking conglomerate, so we always chat about the market and such. So there we are, on the clock, at my place. He’s hot, I’m hot for him, and he spanks the living daylights out of me until my ass is various shades of black, blue, and red. Which means I’m out of commission for at least a week with anyone else if I don’t want them to know what a slutty freak I am.

Date 35.1–Coffee date with a guy I met online. Even though I’d sworn off dating Hispanic men, since my many friends who are married to them consistently deal with all sorts of jealousy and possessiveness issues, Date 35 was super hot, over six feet tall, already had kids (boys–which are my theoretical stepkids of choice), and worked in lucrative field (yet another guy from the profession that must not be named, actually), so I made an exception. After meeting him in person, however, I was on the fence. I detected an angry undertone to Date 35’s words–especially regarding his ex-wife–but he was definitely hot and I couldn’t help wondering how the sex would be with him. Being that I was still all bruised up from Date 31.6, though, I knew I’d have to take things slow with this guy if they were going to go there, giving my ass time to look innocent. But what do I do? Instead of taking my vitamins and laying low, the next day…

Date 31.7–On my way to meet a romance-writer friend (of the sweet, chaste variety–yes, there is such a thing!) to attend a literary event, there was just enough time to meet Date 31 for a quickie. Right beforehand, he sent me this text: I’ll leave the door unlocked. Please lock it behind you. I’ll be naked in bed waiting when you arrive at 4:45. Please don’t say a word. Simply take off your clothes and start sucking my dick. After sucking it GOOD for a little while, ask me nicely if I am ready to fuck you. If I say yes, just turn over in the doggie-style position and wait for me to whip and fuck you. See you soon!

Oy. What can I say? I think Date 31 liked the idea of resetting my clock on getting close to anyone else. But that didn’t stop me from going out on a second date with Date 35, since I figured I’d be waiting until at least the third date with him anyway, but…

Date 35.2–When Date 35 showed up in his luxury SUV at my place to pick me up to go out for a sushi dinner, I was wearing a skirt, high-heeled sandals, a dressy top, and a very pretty cardigan (no, guys aren’t that far off base when they say I’ve got a “librarian thing” going on). Date 35, however, was wearing nylon gym shorts, shower shoes, and a grungy T-shirt. I almost didn’t get in the car. “Oh, sorry!” he exclaimed upon seeing me all dolled up. “I should have told you–because I have to wear a suit all week for work, I don’t dress up on weekends. At all.” No shit, I wanted to say, since he’d looked really nice when we’d met for coffee. “Want to go up and change?” he asked. I hesitated, wondering if I should just call the whole thing off, but honestly, I hadn’t had sushi in a long time, and I was super craving it. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll just be five minutes.”

Mistake!!! To make a long story short, the sushi was great, but the conversation was questionable. Date 35’s deep-seated anger became more and more apparent as the night wore on, but at the same time, he kept ordering drinks for us and touching me in ways that were turning me on, despite my better judgment. After dinner, he said he needed to sit in the car for awhile before he felt like he could drive responsibly. Now, the right thing to do would have been to tell him to walk me home, since the sushi restaurant was reasonably close to my place. Instead, I said okay and hung out with him in his car, where he proceeded to maul me like a sex-starved teenager. No, I didn’t have sex with him, but he got way too up close and personal with my business. Luckily, it was dark, though, so he didn’t see why I was fighting so hard not to remove my clothes. In the days afterward, he texted me incessantly, wanting to take me out again. Because of his angry attitude, I hesitated to say no right away, kind of giving him the run around, but within a week, I manned up and told him sorry, I just wasn’t feeling it, and he left me alone.

Date 31.8–Knowing I was about to have oral surgery and my dick-sucking prowess would be impaired for at least a few weeks, Date 31 made a special late-night visit to my place mere hours before I was slated to show up at the periodontist’s office. It was the third time I had seen him in ten days, and I have to say, even though we were clear on not being serious with each other, it felt way too comfortable, like if we did ever decide to take things to the next level, we’d actually be pretty happy together. We talked about pre-nups, my kids, the stock market, after-hours trading, and whatnot. He ate my leftover Chinese food, then devoured a bunch of my homemade oatmeal-craisin cookies, exclaiming how fat he’d be if we were married. But what can I say? Different goals. At any rate, we parted on a good note.

Date 14.4–Have I mentioned that I’m a sucker for men in golf clothes? Not sure what it is, but I can’t help it–I get totally wet when I see hot guys in polo shirts, visors, and golf shorts or pants. Date 14, who was still 27 at the time, works for a major golf-equipment manufacturer and golfs a lot as part of his job. I was probably way too loopy from the painkillers I was on after my surgery, but for whatever reason, when he texted asking if he could stop by for a little while, I said okay, sure. When he showed up still wearing his golf clothes, however, I was like, right on!!!

What a mess. So, all that to say, I’m somewhat lacking in the self-control department. Both Date 31 and Date 5 had been telling me forever that if I liked a guy, I needed to NOT sleep with him right away, instead making him wait a bit. With that bit of wisdom in my pocket and my recent experiences–which proved I was going nowhere fast in the relationship department with how I was behaving–a couple days later, I went on a first date with a new guy: Date 37.

Where I’ve Been Lately

March-April: Bought a condo. Loan application was an exercise in futility given the new mortgage laws that took effect in January. Despite having an 800+ credit score and owning real property in my home state of California since early 1994, when I was 23, I was summarily rejected everywhere I applied, necessitating a tax-unsavvy raid of my IRA in order to pay cash for said condo. Because my divorce wasn’t yet final, I couldn’t even qualify for a home equity loan in order to repay the kitty (even though I owned the property outright and it appraised for $10K over my purchase price!). Ridiculous amounts of time were spent emailing financial documents all over the place, all to no avail. But whatever–I love my new place and it’s already gone up $50K in value, so suck it, mortgage industry.

April-October: Remodeled my condo’s kitchen and bathroom. I should have a Ph.D. in complaining by now. Very tempted to say some horrible things about a certain large home-improvement store and a pricey cabinet maker also known for manufacturing furniture. What I will say, however, is that next time I do any remodeling, I’ll check out Ikea, instead, or explore having a guy from Mexico custom-make my cabinetry.

July: The indie bookstore I was working at (of five part-time jobs, my main gig) was in danger (even more than usual) of closing their doors. The store owners warned me I should look for other employment, since August might be their final month. Taking them very seriously, since it appeared that the property manager was attempting to force them out with strong-arm tactics, I decided to give applying for flight-attendant jobs another shot. Yes, this might sound random since I’m an author who worked in the publishing industry for years, but I grew up in an airline family. Don’t laugh, but my dad and stepmom worked for PSA back in the day. As a kid, I used to wonder, Why don’t all airplanes have smiles on them? But even as a child, I knew those PSA uniforms were something else with their bright-orange go-go boots and mega-short skirts. Anyway, every time my dad went to work for a long trip, my mom was like, “Come on, girls–let’s go!” and we’d be off to Northern and Central California to visit her friends. That said, I’ve flown a lot, and I always loved it, so the thought of working as a flight attendant myself sounded kind of cool.

This time around (I had applied at various airlines when I first left my ex, but with no luck), I decided to list my various volunteer leadership positions on my job history when I applied. Not to sully anyone’s organizational name, but I’ve been a prominent member in all three scouting communities (laugh all you want, but after 15+ collective years as a scout leader, I know how to politely boss around unruly kids–and their parents). And guess what? It worked! I got multiple interviews and job offers!!! I chose the airline with the base easiest to commute to and from my home town (since no way I’m giving up my sweet condo I fought so hard to get/improve), which also happened to be based where my mother and stepfather currently live.

Now, I’m not going to say which airline, since I love the job and don’t want to risk being fired, but I’ll give you two clues, since these won’t come up in search engines: (1) like PSA’s, our planes are “fun,” with unique pictures on them; and (2) we were recently in national news for a certain worldwide-panic-level-virus-infected passenger we transported.

August-present: Training/working/commuting. I’m down to four jobs now, the airline one being full-time, but that hasn’t left much time for blogging (or writing, truth be told). Also, I cleaned up my act a bit on the dating front (yes–that’s a relative qualification, because I’m still scandalously dirty with my love life) and went through a series of more serious romantic prospects. But, oh! The more serious, the worse the heartache! I’ve learned a lot this year about trust and human nature. I was going to say “unfortunately,” but it’s better to know and watch out, moving forward, than be naive, right? At least that’s how I’m spinning it in my mind.

So here we go again!