I must have “Breeder” tattooed on my face somewhere.

I’m beginning to wonder.


I have a date Friday… with Rick… handpicked by me… and my shark.

If there were ever a bigger sign you need to get over him… it’s his choosing who will be replacing him, right?

Then I get another email…

Hey baby,

I have a big city mentality. I think more of the big picture as opposed to the week. Having a nice home I own and a running vehicle is more important to me than having a toy for each season and a vehicle worth more than the place I live in.

I love nice shoes but wearing them in Idaho is not much of an option. I am not one to think like a lot of girls I have met. I can’t see someone saying I want marriage and kids by the end of the year. The white picket fence, kids, and marriage at 18 years old is not attractive to me. It is now and that’s what I’m looking for in a woman. Do you want to have more kids?

I also just remembered that Fathers Day is Sunday so my dad and I will go out for dinner probably Monday. Where do you want to go Friday?


Dammit. All I can think of saying back to him is:

“Shhhhhh….. Don’t talk… I liked you so much more before you said anything” but somehow I think that could make my date on Friday a little awkward.

Let me be painfully honest.

I would love to have a delightfully scrumptious baby with the man of my dreams. You know the guy? The one that gets up in the middle of the night? The one that helps the other kids with homework because you’re nursing a baby and making dinner and canning salsa… etc…

But he doesn’t exist… unless you’re a whiny demanding bitch that wants to pass the baby off…

and that’s just not me. I’m good old fashioned territorial. If I grow it- it’s mine- and I’m not leaving it…

I’ve begun to believe I have this tattooed somewhere… because if I had a quarter for every man that emailed me asking me if I wanted to have his babies… I’d be able to maintain this fabulous single life forever…

and not wearing good shoes in Idaho…. Hmph. Makes me want to cancel.

and incidentally… I had the whole white picket fence thing… at 18…sooooooo


Ok… You cannot call me baby yet…and in all fairness- if you met a woman who told you she wanted to be married & pregnant by the end of the year, wouldn’t it scare the hell out of you? I had the picket fence at 18- and while I wouldn’t trade a minute of it, it’d definitely be easier and perhaps more… treasured… the second time around. Hopefully we all learn to value the important things more the older we get, right? I spent the last 7 years with a non-committal guy… so I sort of gave up on my second white picket fence.

I don’t know Coeur d’ Alene very well- do you have a favorite place to go?

xo Jenni

I want shark.