Puerto Rico…part 1

The reality is never as pretty as the fantasy… unfortunately.

A year ago, while whining about the current douche bag to cross my path, some amazing comment on my blog comes chiming in. Some stranger that has silver coated syllables is reading my journal? Weird. I’m immediately intrigued and click over to read his blog. Golden words. Nothing short of verbal porn, with a side of Shark… and we all know I have a certain weakness for that sort of thing.

He’s even bald. Be still my heart. He lives in paradise. He’s so exactly what and who I want, I could have ordered him for myself. He sends me an email… and it’s even more intoxicating.

But I was involved with someone close enough to touch… so I didn’t pay much attention.

And he kept on reappearing. He wasn’t intimidated by my disinterest. I blogged about him a few times. They were all true and I really thought he was the most amazing man I’d ever read about.

The man I was in love with at the time, said it out loud for the first time.

♥- I like this T guy… and I think he gets you. How outrageous would that be? I think you should talk to him.

It hurt to hear at the time, but it planted a seed….

I emailed him back eventually… and things heated up quickly. He woke me up every morning with the best app I ever downloaded, with sweet words and just…. intoxicating male perfection.

His text messages were so good my best friends begged me to give him their numbers. His emails were orgasm-worthy. Good enough I never deleted one.

I asked him to guest blog for me because I wanted to see what he’d write. It blew my mind, and the minds of many.

He started talking about the ultimate roll of the dice… a weekend in Puerto Rico together. I told him from the beginning I couldn’t afford it. He told me I could pay for meals for a few days- that was do-able.

He bought me a ticket….

I talked to my sister about it first.

J- So… I think I’m going to go to Puerto Rico and meet him.

P- Have him come here. I want to meet him and that’s a long way from home.

J- Yeah, in paradise… in February. He’ll come here next.

P- I don’t know…

J- I feel it… I love him already. I’m going.

I didn’t really know how to tell people. I requested the time off work and go to the line that said “Reason:” and froze. I wrote Puerto Rico… and walked away feeling naked. To be completely honest… I’m a chicken shit in my life. I don’t do the scary things. I don’t roll dice. I’m a big fan of helmets. I needed to have enough faith in myself to go.

4000 miles for a first date. A first date with a man I’d already fallen in love with. Wondering how this worked, how this was going to go and immediately feeling inadequate listening to him talk about the girls he dates. 6′ blonde girls in their twenties. Awesome. I called my best guy friend and he came over. I stripped down to my panties and told him I was freaking out about getting naked in front of this guy and he laughed at me.

B- You’re beautiful, and I hope he doesn’t see it. I hope you have a nice time, but it really doesn’t matter. We love you- and he’d better take care of you. I don’t want to pick you up from the airport in a bag.

J- Don’t say that.

B- You look great naked, relax…

J- You’re just making me feel better.

B- You look kinda orange but you have big tits, you’ve got this- RELAX! He loves YOU. Even the nasty bitch you can be on your blog. If he’s worried about about your chubby thighs then fuck him, he’s older than you- he should be thanking his lucky stars.

J- He dates six foot blonde girls in their twenties.

B- Yeah me too… come on Jen… don’t lose your head. Don’t jump in head first and DO NOT be clingy. You do that. I’ve seen it. Ugh. Find your confidence and take those panties. Damn.

J- I love you. Thanks.

I packed my suitcase a dozen times. A dozen dresses. A dozen pairs of heels… I broke one side of the buckle a month before I was due to leave. Overcompensating? Yes. If he only knew what I left at home…

I didn’t sleep the night before I left. Sober One Kenobe came over and made me into some sort of blonde bombshell. My sister drove me to the airport in the early twilight hours. I got out of the car and she walked around and looked at me and I started to cry.

J- I can’t believe I’m doing this.

P- Me either… but I’m so proud of you and I’m just… so proud. You’re going for it and you’re going big. I hope it’s everything you ever wanted. I hope it’s amazing. Enjoy every second.

Walking into the airport was overwhelming. Checking in for my first flight was terrifying. Handing my passport to the man in the security line was seriously an out of body experience.

It just kept hitting me. I was seriously flying 4000 miles to meet the man of my dreams. In a little black Ann Taylor dress and my favorite Coach bag… Maggie. My red leather security blanket… and my daughter’s bunny tucked inside. Praying I wasn’t putting my life on the line and I could just dive in head first without checking the depth of the pool… shocker.

I sat between a bunch of beautiful soldiers on my first flight and they were quick to reassure me, and buy me a few drinks…. A cool du-wop band on my second flight and an amazing couple on my last flight. I wanted to brush my teeth more than anything when we landed… but the airport was closed and the bathrooms were locked. We were the last flight of the night.

My phone was flashing the little red “I’m about to die” light at me… and I was facing the scariest moment of my life.

What if I didn’t recognize him? What if he didn’t like me? What if he was disappointed in my short curvy ass…. Damn near hyperventilating…. and a text comes in. A friend of mine… possibly the only one I can talk to about this moment.

I’m looking around and realizing that he’s not here…. or I’m living the moment I fear most and I’m not recognizing him. I decide to play it safe, find an outlet and plug in my phone charger…. and read the text that came in.

F- There yet?

J- Just landed.

F- I’m really happy for you. I hope it’s great.

J- I’m scared to death.

F- Relax. He loves you.

J- He’s not here.

F- What????????????

J- Everyone is gone… I’m not kidding. He’s not here.

F- WTF? Did you call him?

J- He didn’t answer both times.

F- Call him until he does.

J- He was asleep… he’s on his way.

F- I’m worried.

I stopped responding. He was only increasing my level of anxiety. Google said the hotel was 15 minutes away… so I walked outside. The balmy warm heat hit me and I knew I was going to have to open my suitcase to find my perfume. I didn’t know if I’d be able to get it closed though… I couldn’t not… so I pulled the trigger and it sprung open. It took me climbing on it to get it closed again, with darling airport guys walking by laughing and teasing me in Spanish. I found a little tourist stand with two Time magazines and started reading…

An hour later he drove up. He called me just before pulling up.

T- Are you in a black dress?

Gulp.

J- Yep.

and he hung up… and he drove up… and he walked up…

and I kissed him.

Angels didn’t sing.

T- Let’s get out of here.

He threw my suitcase in the back and we got in… and it was silent. Awkward silence because I’m literally sitting next to him for the first time and I am LOST for words. I reach over and put my hand on his thigh and he growled at me.

What have I gotten myself into this time?

Victory Yarden

My garden, aka The Yarden was overwhelmingly huge this year. Nearly an acre- and completely redesigned this year. With a freaking rake. I was determined, heartbroken and lost. Definitely depressed. Beyond depressed.

My mom brought her tractor over and we tilled the whole damn thing up. Go big or go home, organic farmer style. Like a blank slate… that had to be raked and shaped into the sexy round garden of my dreams. Fuck straight lines, fuck that rotten ex of mine and fuck everyone who told me I couldn’t do it.

I did it, God Damn IT…

Ugh. Wayyyyyyyy too well. I stood in my garden on my birthday in July and it hit me… What on earth could I possibly have been thinking. WTF. If I wasn’t out there at least 4 hours a day, it went crazy… and at a certain point, I didn’t care anymore. Without the sexual tension from the Shark and my iPod it would have been a miserable failure. Oh… and…

My ego.

Because the stupid boat stealing asshole got right in my face and told me I’d never be able to do it without him… and I would have died trying before I let him be right about that. I was nothing but a pain in his ass for the last year of our relationship. Admittedly. I was awful. However… he deserved nothing more than that. Having him completely out of my life is like the ultimate second chance.

Hearing horror stories about how his child is acting now- seeing him in all his scrawny, grey, & bitter glory? It’s all just icing on my ego cake.

He was wrong. I grew 3,200 lbs of vegetables (so far, I still have more to weigh) this year in my garden. I’ve been fine alone… and pretty damn happy with the new men in my life. Mr. Favorite is 19 years younger than him. Ha ha ha ha… and on a completely petty level…I hope it burns his ass when he sees us together at some point. I have a new job I love, a great relationship with my family and wonderful close friends. Life is bliss.

Even better? I was right. He’s content to live in a car. He’s happy bailing on his son to be lazy. He’s old. Lazy. Stupid…. and all washed up before he ever began. He’s a failure- and we were the best part of his life. I hope he kicks him self every day for the rest of his life.

Because like I kicked him out of our lives, my garden kicked his ass. It unfortunately kicked mine as well in the process, and I learned a valuable lesson. I have a huge ego…and it killed me this summer. My acre of healthy vegetables laid claim to my soul this summer and I hated it. The market was a failure and I am literally swimming in veggies. Canning like a pioneer. Spending every spare moment I have, dealing with the biomass I created out of pure stubborn pride.

I really showed him…

🙂