Mr. Sugar Baby was all sorts of grabby. I narrowly escaped and he sent me lewd text messages.

eeeek. Someone needs to take First Date 101. Sorry Mr. Booty Call, I’m not interested, in fact I’m moderately offended. So I do what comes naturally… I blog about it 🙂

Each day I can look at the stats and see how people find their way to my blog. The list is pretty hysterical actually.

OhJenni.com, disrespect, bichon frise puppies, koolhaas hat, creeper man, how to say beautiful chaos in Italian, how to make a penis cake, etc…

But for the first time ever… someone found their way here with my internet dating user name. Lol….

God Bless Google for making things so much easier & terrifying in the same second.

I don’t post tags because I freak out a little when I see there are so many people reading my blog. I panic a little when someone mentions reading it.

Google has forced me to take more responsibility. To fight the urge to clam up and talk about knitting booties and canning tomatoes again.

That poor girl- she was so miserably bored out of her mind and watching minutes just tick away with a bad boyfriend. I don’t ever want to be her again.

Don’t get me wrong, I love to knit and I treasure cooking meals with my children. I just have my own identity too now. I’m more than someone’s wife, someone’s mom and someone’s daughter.

I’m even kind of funny, or at least I have to laugh at myself sometimes.

A year ago I never would have been brave enough to get the tattoos I wanted. I was too worried about what someone might think or worried they’d judge me.

Now I just don’t care. I’d even go so far as to say I relish the opportunity to experience that, just because I’ve finally learned how to stand up for myself. Finally.

Don’t like them? Good thing they’re mine and not yours. Don’t approve? Awesome, I’m no longer a people pleaser. I’ve had it with the collective group of men in and around me. Done. Washing my hands of the whole mess. I can’t handle one more crazy date. I don’t want a boyfriend that badly. I can’t stand a continued parade of awkward lunatics like the guys I’ve met in the last year.

Single isn’t that bad. Single is pretty fantastic. I like my own company. I love living alone. I love the undivided attention I’m able to give my kids. I love my job and my friends and isn’t that what makes a day perfect?

Sharing it with someone would be nice, don’t get me wrong, but something always has to give… and unless it’s fun, what’s the point? There are some damn crazy people out there.

I’m tired of test driving. I’m frugal, I’m perfectly happy with what I have going on in my own life.

and if I needed any confirmation? It was the last email I exchange I had. His name is Rob. He’s 6’3, black and GORGEOUS. I figured if I had a selection I may as well pick my favorite, right?

He’s emailing me constantly. Ugh… a clinger. Sent me a virtual rose even, good grief.

I give in at the end of the day and send him a message. Within seconds he was firing them at me.

R- Are you busy?

R- How was work?

R- I hope you had a good day!

J- Hey…

R- Did you have a good day at work?

J- Yeah, how about you?

R- I collect SSI and have an under the table business. I sell knockoff high end purses, glasses, nikes and air jordans. NO1DUZIT BETTA

J- Gotta be honest, that’s not me. I work my ass off and I splurge on the real deal. Take care, you are cute enough to get away with it… and smart enough to know better.

R- Wow. I got hit by a drunk driver.

This guy is like black Adonis. Seriously. Totally and completely capable and healthy that I can’t believe he isn’t embarrassed to admit he’s on SSI.

I’m done. Through. Over it. Blech. At this point I think they all suck… and they’re all crazy.

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