30 Days of Truth, Day 3


Day 3 — Something you need to forgive yourself for.

Now I remember why I stopped half way through this the last time. All this introspection and self doubt gets difficult to wade through. Sigh.

I need to forgive myself for writing this blog. Absolutely. I have a million reasons to delete the whole thing and retreat into my long-lost anonymity. Yet I don’t. It’s a verbal map to the hardest times in my life, and also a few of the spiciest. When I’m rock-bottom devastated, I don’t write, so thankfully the worst moments have faded away instead.

I started writing in 2009, in the midst of my live-in boyfriend moving out. I wanted a ring and a baby and he wanted to smoke pot and avoid getting a real job. I’d burned 7 years waiting for “someday” and was FED UP. He liked to consider himself a writer, and mocked me for my “little journal”. I’d worked so hard to build a real life with him, and didn’t know what to do with all the broken pieces I was left holding after he left with me to clean the whole mess up by myself.

I was lost. So lost. He’d eaten away at my self esteem for so long that all I knew how to do was apologize for everything. My sister picked me up, dusted me off, painted some makeup on my shell-shocked face, and took me out.

What happens when an emotionally destroyed woman adds alcohol and bad choices to the mix?

This blog.

What ever possessed me to write about it, I’ll never know… but it’s all here in black and white for the world to snack on. I knew that going in, but I never dreamed people would give a single shit. I never wrote a single word in hopes of it being read.

As luck would have it, I must have pissed in the wrong bowl of cornflakes, because I woke up to a Facebook group made with the intention of sending the link to my blog out to everyone in creation. Decades of classmates of mine were logging on and the stats shot through the roof by lunch. I quietly drank in the dark and prayed for spontaneous combustion.

Something incredible happened as a result.

Nobody died. Not even after reading about how much I love a good blowjob. People started to come up to me and tell me they loved it, something I never saw coming. I learned to embrace my scandal and accept petty judgments for what they were. I learned to breathe through what I thought would kill me. My exes read it. Their wives read it. Hell, that lunatic from Puerto Rico STILL reads it.

So maybe I should just delete the whole damn thing and start fresh.

Or forgive myself for being so damn wordy.

Tall Order


I ran into him yesterday and was struck silent. My nerves were on edge and I could hardly breathe. He smiled at me and my resolve liquified. He leaned in and the words fell right out of my mouth.

J- My God you smell good.

This is why I need a filter. He looks confused and I’m trying to delicately back-pedal. There’s just no getting around it. I love an artificially fragranced man. No natural essential oils, either… No. I love me some after shave, die for even the most basic dollar store cologne, and heaven help us all if he’s ironed. I have vices, I admit them.

Sometimes it’s better to just admit to them and move on. I do my best to squash these natural inclinations, to no avail. You want what you want and there’s no getting around it.

My mama is a firm believer in list making, and this is no exception.

  1. I want a man who makes me laugh when I want to slit his throat. I realize this is a specialized skill, but if you can make me laugh when I’m furious, nothing bad will ever happen. I’m a happy person by nature and would much rather fuck than fight… so this is a skill that will make your life pretty damn spectacular as well.
  2. I want a man who can fix things with tools. One of the hottest things I’ve seen recently, is a man searching for a tiny replacement screw in the gazillions of drawers at the hardware store. He found it… and I could hardly speak. Men with man skills are my jam.
  3. I need him freshly shorn. I’m capable of handling a beard these days, but it needs to be more manicured hedge than broom. A million bonus points for silky soft man face.
  4. I need him artificially scented. No patchouli, no lavender and NO Old Spice. I’m not attracted to naturally scented anything, hippies OR men who smell like my dad. Beyond those guidelines, anything goes. I don’t have a favorite cologne, but any is better than none. Hell… soap has been known to blow my mind lately… so this is an inexpensive vice to exploit.
  5. I need him to love his mama. This is one of those old fashioned vices that I can’t seem to quit. I loathed my mother in law and my ex did too. It only took away from our life, and I wish I’d been older and wiser so that I could have tried harder to build a healthy relationship with her. The older you get, the more you realize how priceless those people really are in your life. If I’m going to commit to a man, I’m going to have to want to hang out with his mom.
  6. Faith isn’t important to me, but I have found that the Christian boys are just as dirty and dishonest as the heathen atheists. I don’t care what someone’s faith base is, as long as they don’t force it on me or mine. Jesus is like your penis. Keep it to yourself until I ask for it.
  7. I need for him to know his way around the kitchen. Men who cook are my achilles and I am powerless when it comes to a perfect medium rare steak. If he can tie on an apron and blow my mind on a dinner plate, I’m going to thank him in ways he’s only dared to fantasize about. You cook for me: I burn for you. It’s a win-win situation.
  8. Can he dance? He needs to. I don’t care if he looks like an elephant in roller skates, I just can’t be the only one bumping and grinding while I get the dinner dishes done. Miserable chores are made better by a little ass shakin’ and I want the guy who can’t help but dance with me if I’m gettin down.
  9. I’ve been celibate for 5 years. I need to not be anymore. Along those lines, I want He-Who-Can-Keep-Up. Don’t whine about needing sleep or having to work the next day… life is short and I’m insatiable. You’re welcome. If he can’t or won’t, I don’t want him.
  10. Last but not least… I need him to be a very good man. The one nobody can believe is single. That guy who opens doors, puts the toilet seat down and says please and thank you. Manners, integrity and a quiet masculine strength that doesn’t need to be loud or aggressive to be perfectly obvious.

I’m pretty sure you’ve realized the same thing I have after reading this.

I have a better chance of finding a unicorn growing out of the soil in my garden, and we’re still buried under 4′ of snow.

A new kitten or a fresh tattoo sounds a million times better and FAR more likely to be a perfect match, so if anyone has any suggestions for either, let me know!