There are men…and there are jerks.

I have horrible taste in men. Read it and weep with me… They’re not all bad, and some of them are actually really great.

I have amazing guy friends…but I’m only attracted to assholes. Tragic… and painfully true.

My friends and I have decided that any future potential boyfriend will have to be pre-approved by a panel of friends. Much like a home loan.  He should have some sort of redeeming qualities, right? All too often I don’t pay any attention to that. Hot? Funny? Sharky? Check, check, check… I’ll worry about his morals & lack of a soul a little later on.

That doesn’t seem to be working. I’m officially getting off the asshole train. Turning in my idiot card…. burning my doormat t-shirt.

It’s no wonder… when you look back at the men I’ve met… complete with a little linked history.

My favorite of 2010, Mr. Flintstone. He who set the bar high… but ultimately flew back to Sacramento. I still get occasional drunk texts from him. He was delightfully charming and such a gentleman. Wow kind of guy and so so fun.

My Shark. The personal struggle of a lifetime.  He who inspires more bad feelings than good. Tragic & over. Nuff said.

Mr. Mystery…. not so mysterious, but an awesome guy nonetheless. Crush turned friend. Amen.

The Ex-Boyfriend. Oy vey. I suppose everyone has to have a stalker once in their life. Look’s like he’s mine. No matter how much I say no, he continues to bother me. You only have to throw one temper tantrum in public for me to cross your name off the list. I don’t do drama. Period. So long fella, and NO I WILL NOT FUCKING MEET WITH YOU. LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE. Oh sorry… was I shouting? Ooopsies.

The Baby Chicken. He’s the original guy-who-doesn’t-call. Oh and the guy-who-throws-you-under-the-bus. Adorable, hot as hell and ridiculously fun to hang out with, but ultimately? I can’t respect a guy that doesn’t treat women like he’d want his daughter to be treated.

Delicious. My friend. Completely platonic and funny. He’s one of those rare beautiful men with a great personality and a gorgeous body to go with it. He’s a ten… and he knows it, and he should. It’s awesome to have a guy friend- and though everyone assumes everyone is intimate with him, I am not. Cheers to those who are, he’s a cool guy, and it’s nice to know they aren’t all assholes.

Mr. Adorable. My most recent date. Adorable. Insanely good looking and friendly. Charming. Smart. Funny…. and to be completely honest after seeing the picture he sent this afternoon…. hung like a stallion. On a scary level almost. I’m not even sure what to say to him about it.

Smartypants.… a crowd favorite. I love the emails I get from about him. I may just have to post them all at some point because I know he hates me a little for blogging about him. I think he’s sweet businessman perfection and I will forever objectify him as the perfect man. He’s smart & sexy… you cannot beat that. Probably the only man I’ve met in years that I’d consider dating. Too much of a Mr. Scaredy McChickenpants for my taste. At any rate- a lost cause, waste of time- pointless. Sigh.

Mr. Perfect. My best guy friend, who I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole- but who restores my faith in holding out for more than a douche bag who cheats on you and buys you carnations. This guy should be writing a book.

I’m not including the odd-ball internet dates. Even though many are very strange and hysterically funny. These are my favorites and least favorites….

With a side of the real deal, the nice guys- who I’m eternally thankful for.

Without whom, I’d join a convent and swear off men for life.

and my goodness… who could blame me.


Lucky Girl

As a little girl I loved to sit in the grass and pick four leaf clovers. I still find them in between the pages of books when I’m reading to my daughter. They fall out, pale yellow and 20+ years old, but still lovely and perfectly flat. Four perfect leaves, reminding me to always believe in magic.


It’s one of those treasured memories of being a kid. It’s a gift that runs in our family, the uncanny ability to find four-leaf clovers by the dozen. My poor mom (and my son) can’t find them. My daughter made bookmarks out of them for her birthday party last year. It delights her in the same way it’s always delighted me. Especially when you pick one and give it to someone who’s never found one.

Watching their face light up with something so simple and free, it’s a little slice of the easy joy of childhood, there for the finding, if you are so lucky.

Nature’s tiny insignificant treasure. A four leaf clover offering you the potential for good luck. It still makes me smile, and I’ve done my fair share of depleting the supply.

So I did what comes naturally….

I found a permanent one, by way of my favorite tattoo genius, Melissa. I love it just as much as my many aged treasures tucked in the pages of my favorite books.

Floating a few inches off the ground on the perfection of a day spent with my baby girl, my friends and my favorite co-workers. Iced with a kiss.

Who has two thumbs and a permanent four-leaf clover?

A very lucky girl, indeed.