Life in 3D: True Intimacy

There is a point in every relationship where a girl knows she is really in love.  It is not always at first sight, first kiss, even first time you two have sex.  It is not even the first time you say “I love you.”  For me, the first I know that I really love a guy is the first time I clean his apartment.

First off, I am NO clean freak.  I have some serious organizational issues.  The first of which are my clothes and shoes are in a constant state of chaos.  Even when I do laundry and everything is put up, it can take just one indecisive session of “I have nothing to wear” where I pull out everything in my closet, throw it on the bed until I find just the right outfit that expresses my true inner self at the moment.  Being that I, like most women, our “true selves” can shift and get out of joint like a pair of panties with the a shot elastic band is why we have and NEED more than thirty pairs of shoes.  That being said, unless I am in severe state of depression, my dishes are usually done and my bathroom clean.  I might be cluttery, but I am clean. 

So, I have a new boyfriend.  Totally sweet guy.  Although I resisted at first, his nerdy charms and overt attempts to woo me, I am wooed.  He really is cute and super smart.  He treats me like a queen even though he lives in squalor.  Okay, it is not really squalor.   He lives in a very nice apartment in a much better part of town than I live in and he has very nice furnishings, appliances and nice clothes.  You just can’t see the furnishings and appliances for all the crap strewn everywhere.  He has a twelve-year-old son so basically you have the mess of your average straight male times 1.5. 

The first thing I cleaned was the kitchen.  It was gross.  Now, I have seen worse.  There wasn’t anything growing anywhere, just that I refused to use the microwave for fear that the use of the radon beams would somehow animate the months of caked on crud and become the latest Marvel villain illustrating society’s over-reliance on technology.  Either that or a 50’s B-grade Horror Movie: “The Barbecue Left Behind.”

I have been kind of sick the last few days and have been basically hanging out at his apartment drinking lots of cranberry juice and watching cable.  The dog has been over here too at my side.  I believe in the healing power of puppy.  But today, I am feeling better and just had to do something.  I decided if I am going to spend more and more time over here: sleeping, eating, writing, working, showering, etc., that I could not live with the caked on food on the stove, the stacked up Coke Zero bottles in the living room, and the little flecks of red beard stubble in the sink.  I love this man, his child, and myself and it was time to make a commitment.  If I was going to stay with him and visit his place as often as I have been I had to take a stand for “us” and against germs.

I guess the ritual cleaning of the apartment (in his absence) sends a message that the woman is “nesting.”  She wants to make the apartment/house/hut/cave more inhabitable to herself and any offspring the relationship might create.  Call it nature, evolution, call it love, there is just something that says “I want to stay with you” like Lysol. 

Women of the World Beware of the Charm of Southern Men

Because they will charm the pants right off of you.  That is their mission, it is their duty, and it will be your undoing.

I am not saying that Midwestern Men don’t have their moments, because they do.  Once you actually get them to notice you and with a great amount of subtle and not so subtle hints of your availability, they might ask you to their bedrooms to pleasure them, if it is not too much of an inconvenience, if they are not busy with work or hanging out with the guys or if a sporting event is on TV.  If you meet those criteria, they are somewhat serviceable.

It has been my rather limited experience that Southern men take it to the next level.  A Southern Man will sweep you off your feet “Gone with the Wind” style ala’ Clark Gable and you’ll never see it coming.

First is the pursuit.  If a Southern man finds a girl he desires he will pursue her relentlessly.  None of that “take it or leave it” bullshit men from other regions pull.  By the way, men, we fucking hate that.  Any woman who will put up with that shit gets what she deserves. I had a man chat me up at a gas station and then literally chase me down a highway to get my number.  As psycho as that sounds, it worked.  And it worked because he was stupidly handsome, undeniably charming, and damn persistent.  How could a girl say no?  I had the choice to either pull over or call the cops.  Either way, one of us was going to surrender.

The next thing is how they kiss.  Oh my God, can Southern men kiss!  Jesus Christ!  I think I need a moment.  I’m good, I’m good.  Whew, just thinking about it makes me woozy.  Now, I have fallen for a few Southern transplants in the North and I thought it was a fluke.  Nope, all men from the South know how to kiss.  If a man has spent at least a portion of his formative years in the South, he learned how to kiss.  It was like they were all in on the same kissing seminar that they did not tell the Yankees, Midwesterners, or the West Coast-is.  Can you blame them?  I am not saying that they have the same technique.  I have not kissed every single guy from the half a dozen or so states that claim to be “The South,” but I think enough to make an educated guess that somewhere they learned to kiss with their whole mouths, nay, I say their entire being.  They get so wrapped up in that kiss, so intent and single-minded of purpose that nothing distracts them from the kiss.  I don’t know what they are thinking, because I know I lose my mind when they kiss me like that.  Other guys you know that they are just kissing you to get to “the good stuff” or so we don’t complain that they are not “romantic.”  They kiss you like they would like to fast forward through this section like coming attractions on their favorite Adam Sandler DVD.  Southern men take their time, like they got nothing else better to do than to kiss your mouth and make the two of you happy.   Like Scarlett O’Hara, when you have been kissed by a Southern Man, you have been kissed, and kissed properly.

Ladies, do not get out your wallet, because a Southern Gentlemen will not allow you to pay, at least initially.  He might be broke as hell and scrounging coins from his pick-up to treat you to the dollar menu at McDonald’s but he is sure as hell going to pay.  But be warned, just because he is shelling out big bucks in the beginning does not mean he’s loaded, it just means he is trying to win you over.  Do not be fooled, but do go with it.  Modern Southern men did get the memo that we can take care of themselves, but isn’t it sweet to let them try? 

Southern Men are not so troubled with a little thickness, at least not all of them.  I have heard some immature Midwestern men say that they might like a heavier girl for her personality, or might genuinely be attracted to her, but won’t pursue her because he is afraid what his friends might say.  Southern men do not give a shit about such things.  First of all, the South has a higher obesity rate seconded only by the Midwest, but they don’t seem to care.  Down here, if you don’t like chubby girls, then you don’t like girls because they all can’t bang the skinny blonde at the bar all at the same time.  And some of them like “something’ to hold on to.”  Now, if a Midwestern man said that to me, I would be offended.  Southern men will make reference to a woman’s weight, size, and body in general, but it is not meant derogatory, he is just “telling it like it is.”  And believe me, if he is slapping that big ass in a restaurant as you walk by, don’t be offended because you know he wants to tap that big ole’ ass of yours as soon as you two get home.

The South in general firmly believes in the “Lady on the street, Freak in the bed” phenomenon.  This is the Bible belt and you can trip over churches down here.  That does not mean they don’t like to fuck.  They love it.  Southern men (I imagine, have not actually witnessed yet) love to get buck wild and then  shower up, comb the pussy juice out of their beards from Saturday night and walk into church Sunday morning and shake the preacher’s hand with the same hand that was, quite possibly literally, all up in you the night before.  But they can be possessive.  They know what a wild cat you can be in bed and they DO NOT want to share.  There are probably more bar room fights over a lady’s “honor” down here than in the Midwest.  I imagine this occurs because they value the pussy and (often) the lady it belongs to it is worth fighting for.

Yes, they will treat you like a lady, they will hold open doors for you, and they will fight for you, but do not expect to be treated like an equal.  And you better let go of having some kind of “agenda” on a date, because your Southern Man is just going to throw a wrench into those plans anyway.  Just let it go and let them lead the way, at least initially.  They secretly know that the woman is smarter and makes all the real important decisions anyway, but they like it that way.  Don’t ruin their façade, ladies.  It is all about manners and appearances.  They want to seem like the “head of the family” but they know who the real boss is, but that doesn’t mean you have got to rub it in their face either. 

And if all else fails: the near stalker-ish pursuit, the worship of your body, the wining and dining and picking up the check, his chivelous way he opens the door for you and defends your virtue, and the intentional, deliberate, mind blowing kissing does not work, they use their secret weapon that is natural as, well, talking.  Their accents will really win you over.  I know I love the way they call me “Baby” and “Darlin’” just makes me weak.  I can’t help it.  Just understand that when a Southern man calls you “Sugar” that you are going to melt and get as sweet and drippy as honey.  Just accept it and offer up a piece of that sweetness because he sure as hell earned it. 

That is all I have to report on my observations of the mating rituals of the Southern Men.  And I don’t even know their mating habits, only their making out habits thus far, but no one really cares about those findings.  I am sure Albert Kinsey would hardly consider my little anecdotal evidence as scientific, but it is kind of funny and cute. 

+++By the way, men from other regions, you guys are great kissers… really… just… can you try a little harder?

++++These observations were based mostly on data collected on Caucasian representatives of these regions.  Men of other ethnicities, sorry, I just have not dated enough of you to gather enough data to draw any conclusions.   But those that I have had the good fortune to enjoy kissing…. Yeah…. You might have had your own little seminar that you didn’t let the Midwestern cornhuskers in on either.

+++++Did I mention that this is mainly a joke for humorous purposes?  Relax.  You are all hot, okay?  *wink

10 Red Flags Not to Ignore

The following are some red flags early in the relationship that should tell you to move on, get out, or run away as fast as you can.  These are in no particular order. 

1.        He never seems to want to take you to his house.  This means

A.      He might be homeless.  He does not have a house, or apartment, or a pot to piss in for that matter. 

B.      He is married or living with someone. 

If his house is a wreck, he probably not care too much although could be at least a tad embarrassed if he has any kind of shame.  He might clear off the pizza boxes and the XBOX games for you to sit next to him on the couch while he watches sports, but at least he invites you over.  Even if he has eleven roommates or lives at home with his parents, if it means he gets to have sex with you, he will sneak you in late at night and do you in the laundry room in necessary.  But if he doesn’t take you home at all, see the above.  It is most likely choice B, although I have had both occurrences happen to me in the recent past.

2.        He has too many children by too many women.  I’d say if he is in his mid-thirties and has two or three children by two or three women, this is too many.  He obviously has some commitment issues.  On the plus side, it at least means he is fertile.  But with that many kids by that many women, he is probably broke with child support or has had a vasectomy or needs one.  Date this one only casually.  He is probably very charming and possibly a great lover to convince so many women to carry his seed. 

3.        He wants to have a baby too soon.  Now I am in my mid-thirties and the baby thing comes up.  This is expected.  I have been informed by men in that dating women in their thirties without children it is expected that they would like some and only a fool would believe a woman in her thirties is “on the pill.”  Wrap it up regardless, okay?  I have rejected perfectly great gentlemen because they already have children, do not want anymore and have had vasectomies.  A couple of them are great and I really enjoy their company, but I know there is no future.  We want different things out of life. 

That is all fine and good if you at least bring up that babies are on the radar for you too, but I had a guy say (admittedly while making out and people say crazy shit when they are aroused)  “I want to get you pregnant so you will stay.”  That is crazy.  That is psycho.  This was also on a first date.  Yes, we have been talking on the phone and all for weeks, but still, that is just weird and possessive on the first date.  Perhaps he was thinking that he would impregnate me before I would come to my senses and leave his ass but it would already be too late.  He is amazingly perceptive.  I got out of their Scott free and with my virtue intact.

4.        If he says “I love you too soon.”  Obvious sign of desperation. 

5.       Asks odd question about domestic violence.  I had one guy confess he only hit a woman two or three times.  Two or three times too many, if you ask me. 

Another quote from a date after a huge diatribe about his kinky and cuckoo ex-wife he asked, “Do you beat people?”  It was such a ridiculous question; all I could answer was “Not even at monopoly.”  I am sitting here talking this to the man thinking that I might come off as the freaking Virgin Mary because I don’t have a criminal record.

6.       Does not seem to be the least bit interested in your family, job, or life in general.  He just wants a peace of ass.

7.       He keeps on wanting you to drive.  Several reasons for this.

A.      Too cheap/broke to afford gas

B.      Does not even have a car (of course, I will not even meet a man who cannot DRIVE to meet me somewhere)

C.      Has a suspended license

D.      Has every intention of getting toasted

E.       Too busy checking his phone/Blackberry to text other girls, illegally gambling or some other nefarious activity that needs constant attention.

8.        Checking his phone too much is a problem in general.  Either it is for the above reasons or he is trying to avoid you.  I was on a date once and he was pretty much courteous.  The only time he answered his phone was to take a call from his wife.

9.       Bad kisser.  Need I say more?

10.   He won’t pay even on a first date.  This goes again to either being too broke or not that into you.  Even if he were broke, he can take you somewhere cheap and interesting.  Be aware of “He’s not that into signs.”

Fun, Free, and/or Cheap Ways to Date Ms. Charlotte J (The Pensacola Edition)

How hard is it to date, I mean really?  Finding the right person can be difficult.  In fact, it can seem downright impossible.  But finding romantic places to go in this town are easy. 

-First, the beach.  I mean, can you go wrong?  Not that I am really comfortable in a bikini or anything.  In fact, I think I’d rather have a guy see me naked before I’d want him to see me in swimwear.  If he has seen me naked, he is already hooked and all that flesh in public should not scare him off, right? 

Swimwear aside, you can’t get better than a walk along the beach at sunset.  I would love to make out on the beach.  I have once with this Alabama guy at night outside the Florabama, but that is another story.  One time my date and I went to a lovely restaurant in Santa Rosa.  Afterwards, I wanted to walk along the beach and get my toesies in the sand.  He refused to follow me.  This was a bad sign.  I am no longer seeing him.

-          The second free activity is the Naval Museum.  This is about a mile tops away from my house.  It is a nice place to walk around.  You can also climb in and out of flight simulators.  Giggle as you reach around each other flipping switches.  Take all kinds of pictures.  Fun!  There is also a lighthouse on the base.  I believe there might be a small fee to climb to the top.  Hey, if you and your date can hoof it up to the top, it will prove you two have the stamina for some athletic boom-chaca-wow-wow later.  Also, there is a beach nearby.  But that beach is probably heavily guarded and giving hickeys might be a federal offense on military bases.

-          Thai food.  Yummy!  Any kind of ethnic food is a great date place.  The ambiance is often unusual and fun.  Many ethnic places have high quality, unique food at reasonable prices.  It can be an experience, something to talk about, and a way to get to know each other better.  I know I am impressed when a date takes me to his favorite ethnic restaurant and suggests dishes he might think I like, without being too pushy.  Do not order for me, though.  I am not a child.  One time a date put lemon juice on my oysters without asking.  It turned out to be good, but that is like salting someone else’s food.  This was also a first date.  Bad sign.  This was also the guy who on a later date would not follow me into the ocean.

-          The movies, a great standard, but a terrible first date.  Unless you are so uncomfortable you would just rather sit in the dark and not talk. I love going to movies and later discussing them.  Discussing movies can tell you a lot about a person: how they think, their world view, their interest or even awareness of the arts, sense of humor, how negative or positive their outlook.  It is important.  Right now I would love for some nice man to take to see Harry Potter.  I saw all the other movies with my ex-husband…. Sigh… He really was a great guy.

-          Art, ethnic or music festivals: Any kind of activity where you can look around and take in culture or art or something and eat food is great.  Sign me up!

-          Sporting events, I almost forgot.  I have been to a few on dates that have included sporting events.  My ex-husband was not too much into sports, but every other guy I have seen since really was into either watching and/or playing sports.  I am sure there might be some kind of stereotype in there somewhere.  I am not a huge sports fan, but I think going and seeing a game is fun.  Cuddling on the couch watching football while I read, play on the computer or knit on a Sunday afternoon is also perfectly acceptable time spent with my best guy.  Hell, I’ll even make you some nachos.  Just don’t be obsessive about it, okay?

-          Walking dogs.  Much like the art festival thing.  My dog is very important in my life.  Love me, love my dog.  If a guy doesn’t like dogs or is weird or cruel to dogs, I cut them to the curb real quick.  Also, if he has dogs I can’t help but draw a connection to see what kind of father he might be.  Who is the “alpha” anyway?  Often, my stupid doggie chooses a male to be her alpha.  I resent that.  It was my ex-husband, then my ex-boyfriend, now it is kind of my Dad, although she still looks to me for guidance.  Sigh….

-          Photo walks.  I have always wanted to do this on a date, but have never pulled it off.  I even have two cameras.  I think it would be fun to walk around town or in nature, whatever and see what the two of us saw as “artistic” by the end of the day.  Fun, huh? 

That is all I can think of at the moment for fun and/or cheap ways to woo me.  Would it be narcissistic to say that if I were a guy I would date me?  J  I am fun.  I am clever.  I am only a little psycho, but what girl isn’t in her own way?  Isn’t that part of our charm?  Anyway, Pensacola is rife with romantic potential, but these tips can be used in just about anywhere.  Just show your date a good time and that you are interested in them, not just that you are interesting. 

The Unholy Trinity

The quest for a suitable mate, a partner, frined, lover, etc. is a daunting one.  There are so many factors to consider.  Do you choose someone because you get along so well?  Someone you can really talk to, have fun with?  Or do you choose someone who turns you on in away that you never thought was possible to feel so alive?  Is it possible to get both?  And who decides?   

My heart, mind, and coochie have different agendas and they will not show up for meetings. 

Let’s start first with my mind.  My mind knows that I should find a suitable partner.  I should find an educated, professional man with a decent income and we can have a comfortable life together, nothing extravagant, just so we don’t have to worry.  And we will have sparkling conversations full of witty banter and deep philosophical discussions on the subjects of art, music, politics, philosophy, whatever strikes our fancy because we would never run out of things to talk about.   The age or sex appeal of this individual, let alone gender does not really matter as long as we can discuss and “get each other” on an intellectual level.  It is important to have friends.  Yeah, but if there is not spark….  And really, I have to be with a guy.  I am straight really.  As much as men can be a pain in the ass, I still like them and really want them to like me.  It ain’t no thing without that schwing.

My coochie, or “Ms. M” as she is sometimes referred because she is a lady, after all, she has an agenda all her own.  She has two main goals: get laid and get pregnant.  With these two prime directives, she wants me to choose younger, sexy men that appear to have strong genetic features and look like the know how to fuck.  I hate Ms. M sometimes.  I wish she would shut up.  She is so unrelenting sometimes!  But once she at least has her first goal attained (in whatever manner that satisfaction might come, she is easily confused) she is conspicuously quiet.  It is like once the hunger is sated; the slut monster will return to its cave and leave the villagers in peace for a time.  That time being about 25-28 days or until the ovulation rolls around again and I should be locked up for the safety of man. 

My heart…. Well.. She doesn’t have much to say.  She is a like a wounded animal cowering in the back of a cage that would rather bite your hand off if you tried to help.  We are just going to leave her alone right now and let her heal right now.

Except, I need my heart.  She needs to regulate the mind and the body to come to a good decision.  Those other two characters cannot be trusted.  The mind likes, the body lusts, but it is the heart that loves.  Maybe love is when the mind and the body agree on one person.  It is the heart that makes sure the other two stay in line and don’t think too much of themselves. 

For example, I had a very, let’s say “fulfilling” courtship with an older man mostly via phone. I chatted with him online and whatnot and we talked a lot on the phone in the few weeks before I left the Midwest.  He was very intelligent and witty although his humor had a distasteful bitterness that I saw as a warning sign. He was highly educated and in a professional line of work, but was not all that successful at it and I could tell he was barely scraping by, although he tried to cover it up.  He was in worse shape than I was professionally and financially speaking.  I am not saying that money is everything, but it is a factor.  Why lie?  And as far as a spark, very little and that fizzled out.  Besides, he thought he was so smart; he treated me like a bimbo.  Anyone who knows me would think that is laughable.

Another recent relationship was with a younger man who was smart and professional.  He had a lot to go with him.  We had amazing sexual chemistry, and I should not post this, but he was amazing in bed.  Of course, it is possible given my history that I am easily impressed. Nonetheless, it was amazing.  And I think I loved him too.  I really did.  Intelligence level was not a factor but we thought so differently and had such different world views that we fought a lot.  We just did not see eye to eye.  We fought so much that I began to feel guilty when we would go to bed because in between rolls in the hay he made me feel bad about myself and I could not make him happy.  Needless to say, that kind of passion also had a passionate end.

My libido is once again calling me to action, so to speak.  I am rather taken with a certain marine that is so devilishly handsome I am amazed he finds me attractive.  I do not see what he sees.  Maybe he likes me for my mind.  Ha!  As far as his mind and heart, I would have to stop kissing the man long enough to find out.  I know he would give me beautiful, strong, and intelligent healthy children.  I also predict we’d have a good time making those babies.  But the mind and heart part?  We will have to see.

So, so I hold out to try to find the heart, mind and body in one man, or should I just outsource?  I think we need to have a meeting.

Women of the World Beware of the Charm of Southern Men

Because they will charm the pants right off of you.  It is their mission, it is their duty, and it will be your undoing.

I am not saying that Midwestern Men don’t have their moments, because they do.  Once you actually get them to notice you and with a great amount of subtle and not so subtle hints of your availability, they might ask you to their bedrooms to pleasure them, if it is not too much of an inconvenience, if they are not busy with work, hanging out with the guys or if a sporting event is on TV.  If you meet those criteria, they are somewhat serviceable.  And a good roll in the hay can even occur in a neat and tidy bedroom with central heat in the dead of winter.  I'm not saying that men from other regions of the U.S. do not have certain skill sets and charm when it comes to romance.  However, it has been my rather limited experience that Southern men take it to the next level.  A Southern Man will sweep you off your feet “Gone with the Wind” style ala’ Clark Gable and you’ll never see it coming.

First is the pursuit.  If a Southern man finds a girl he desires he will pursue her relentlessly.  None of that “take it or leave it” bullshit men from other regions pull.  ***By the way, men, we fucking hate that.  Any woman who will put up with that shit gets what she deserves. But I digress** I had a man chat me up at a gas station and then literally chase me down a highway to get my number.  As psycho as that sounds, it worked.  And it worked because he was stupidly handsome, undeniably charming, and damn persistent.  How could a girl say no?  I had the choice to either pull over or call the cops.  Either way, one of us was going to surrender.

The next thing is how they kiss.  Oh my God, can Southern men kiss!  Jesus Christ!  I think I need a moment.  I’m good, I’m good.  Whew, just thinking about it makes me woozy.  Now, I have fallen for a few Southern transplants in the North and I thought it was a fluke.  Nope, all men from the South know how to kiss.  If a man has spent at least a portion of his formative years in the South, he learned how to kiss.  It as if they were all in on the same kissing seminar that they did not tell the Yankees, Midwesterners, or the West Coast-is.  Can you blame them?  I am not saying that they have the same technique.  I have not kissed nearly enough men in the half a dozen or so states that claim to be “The South,” to prove this hypothesis, but I think i have enough data to make an educated guess on the matter.  Southern men somehow learned to kiss with their whole mouths, nay, I say their entire being.  They get so wrapped up in that kiss, so intent and single-minded of purpose that nothing distracts them from the kiss.  I don’t know what they are thinking, because I know I lose my mind when they kiss me like that.  Other guys when they have kissed me I can tell that they are just kissing to get to “the good stuff."  Well, if the kiss isn't great, there will be nothing else.  They kiss you like they would like to fast forward through this section like coming attractions on their favorite Adam Sandler DVD.  Southern men take their time, like they got nothing else better to do than to kiss your mouth and make the two of you happy.   Like Scarlett O’Hara, when you have been kissed by a Southern Man, you have been kissed, and kissed properly.

Ladies, do not get out your wallet, because a Southern Gentlemen will not allow you to pay, at least initially.  He might be broke as hell and scrounging up coins from his pick-up to treat you to the dollar menu at McDonald’s but he is sure as hell going to pay.  But be warned, just because he is shelling out big bucks in the beginning does not mean he’s loaded, it just means he is trying to win you over.  Do not be fooled, but do go with it.  Modern Southern men did get the memo that we can take care of themselves, but isn’t it sweet to let them try? 

Southern Men are not so troubled with a little thickness, at least not all of them.  I have heard some immature Midwestern men say that they might like a heavier girl for her personality, or might be genuinely attracted to her but won’t pursue her because he is afraid what his friends might say.  Southern men do not give a shit about such things.  Now, supremely obese is another matter, I am just talking a little extra.  First of all, the South has a high besity rate seconded only by the Midwest, but they don’t seem to care.  Down here, if you don’t like chubby girls, you don’t like girls.   They all can’t bang the same skinny blonde at the bar all at the same time.  And some of them like “something to hold on to.”  Now, if a Midwestern man said that to me, I would be offended.  Southern men will make reference to a woman’s weight, size, and body in general, but it is not meant derogatory, he is just “telling it like it is.”  And believe me, if he is slapping that big ass of yours in a restaurant as you walk by, don’t be offended because you know he wants to tap it as soon as you two get home.

The South, in general, firmly believes in the “Lady on the street, Freak in the bed” phenomenon.  This is the Bible belt and you can trip over churches down here.  That does not mean they don’t like to fuck.  They love it.  Southern men (I imagine because I have not actually witnessed yet) love to get buck wild and then shower up, wash the pussy juice out of their beards from Saturday night and walk into church Sunday morning and shake the preacher’s hand with the same hand that was quite possibly elbow deep in pussy the night before.  Knowing thier own nature, they can be possessive.  They know what a wild cat you can be in bed and they DO NOT want to share.  There are probably more bar room fights over a lady’s “honor” down here than in the Midwest.  I imagine this occurs because they value the pussy, and the lady it belongs to, is worth fighting for.

Yes, they will treat you like a lady, they will hold open doors for you, and they will fight for you, but do not expect to be treated like an equal.  And you better let go of having some kind of “agenda” on a date, because your Southern Man is just going to throw a wrench into those plans anyway.  Just let it go and let them lead the way, at least initially.  They secretly know that the woman is smarter and makes all the real important decisions anyway, but they like it that way.  Don’t ruin their façade, ladies.  It is all about manners and appearances.  They want to seem like the “head of the family” but they know who the real boss is, but that doesn’t mean you have got to rub it in their face either. 

And if all else fails: the near stalker-ish pursuit, the worship of your body, the wining and dining and picking up the check, his chivelous way he opens the door for you and defends your virtue, and the intentional, deliberate, mind blowing kissing does not work, they use their secret weapon that is natural as, well, talking.  Their accents will really win you over.  I know I love the way they call me “Baby” and “Darlin’."  It just makes me weak.  I can’t help it.  Just understand that when a Southern man calls you “Sugar” that you are going to melt and get as sweet and drippy as honey.  Just accept it and offer up a piece of that sweetness because he sure as hell earned it. 

That is all I have to report on my observations of the mating rituals of the Southern Men.  And I don’t even know their mating habits, only their making out habits thus far, but no one really cares about those findings.  I am sure Albert Kinsey would hardly consider my little anecdotal evidence as scientific, but it is kind of funny and cute.   AND IT'S A JOKE!  Calm down.

+++By the way, men from other regions, you guys are great kissers… really… just… can you try a little harder?

+++++Did I mention that this is mainly a joke for humorous purposes?  Relax.  You are all hot, okay?  *wink

Life in 3D: The Pink Elephant in the Room

This blog does not make sense.  It is clever, sometimes sad, occasionally poignant, and funny every once and awhile, but as it stands it is just a smattering of witticisms, ponderings, and confessional observations.  It is like they are differently colored little tiles, some bright, some neutral, some pointy shards, but there is no cohesion, no pattern, no point.
 

Writing whether it is fiction, non-fiction, poetry or prose, the whole point or reading or writing is to tell the truth.  Even street signs tell the truth.  I have signs that don’t lead anywhere because I cannot tell you, fine reader, where to go if I have not told you where I’ve been.  So, in an effort to not further mislead you or to hold myself back, I will tell the truth.  I will, at last, mention the pink elephant in the room.  The pink elephant everyone can see but are too polite to mention.               

The truth about my marriage, the divorce, why I left town, why I am running around looking for validation and comfort in any man’s arms that will hold me is this: My ex-husband is gay.  When I reveal this to a close friend they often ask this, “What happened?”  or “How did you find out?”  The thing is, nothing specific happened and I think a part of me always knew. 

Let me get this very, very straight, please pardon the pun.  There was a time that he loved me.  He loved me mind, heart, AND body.  I believed he was my soul mate.  Perhaps we still are soul mates, we just can no longer live together as husband and wife.  He did love as a man would love a woman.  We had sex, very good sex actually in the beginning.  He loved me, thought I was beautiful, attractive, sexy, and made love to me.  We did all the kinds of things in bed that a men and women who love each other do.  Any other details on this matter would be uncouth and disrespectful.

That being said, now that I have been with “straight” men, I have observed my ex’s affection for me was perhaps more subtle, shall we say, then others.  I could chalk it up to the fact my ex is more reserved and subtle in all he does.  But now that I know the difference at times I say to myself, “How did I not know?”

So, how did I know and what did happen that made the marriage no longer tolerable?  Well, there were signs along the way.  Signs I either ignored or pretended not to know.  Signs I may write about at another time, but not at this moment.  But what really happened was when we were trying to have a child.  We were unsuccessful and trying became, well, trying.  His appearance and demeanor started to change.  He lost weight, started dressing differently, became obsessive about the gym, he started to spend less and less time with me even though we were in same house and still had the same circle of friends.  Then I was so lonely and sex and love starved that I entertained the attention of other men that was probably wrong, although I did not really act on these affections.  The fact that I was at all suspectible to these attentions was dangerous and a real symptom that something was wrong.  Then there was a point that he could no longer respond to me in bed.  I am fighting off the affections of men that would love nothing more than to have me, and my husband, whom I loved most of my adult life and with my whole heart would barely touch me.  It became intolerable and I knew that we could no  longer make each other happy, in or out of bed. 

So, that’s the truth.  That is the pink elephant in the room.  My husband turned out to be gay.  If not gay, he was not straight enough for me.  He could not make love to me, could not give me a child, and although polite, friendly, and the consummate gentleman, I could no longer abide with a man who did not love me as a man should love his wife.  The heartbreak is that I loved him as a man.  I was still attracted to him and his body, and he could not respond to me.  I could no longer live with a man who when I was with him made me feel ugly and wanton (for wanting to have sex in the first place) and it was dangerous that I would fall for any other man than showed me any interest.  There was a point that I thought it would be more honest and safer to be divorcee’ than a mistress because if I had stayed, I would have been so lonely and desperate, I would have sought the comfort and joy of another man’s bed.  And I believed my husband would have done the same.  That is no way to live.