Smile for the Camera

Ah, the curse of the penis picture. Recently a New York Congressman, appropriately named Wiener sexted on Twitter.

I'm no stranger to receiving an dirty picture or two. I had a brief flirtation with a guy online and thought he was normal enough to have my number. The FIRST thing he did was send me a picture of his dick with the caption "wanna ride?" No hello. No how ya doin. Just an upclose and graphic picture of his junk.

For some reason, the online dating scene is full of these guys. And no one wants to be "that guy". Usually it takes a few dates for me to decide if I want to see someone's package. I've been on okcupid for about a year now and if I wanted to, I could have enough penis pics to have a gallery opening. I might as well have been trolling for sex on craigslist.

I've seen them all. Big, small, crooked and uncut. Some are nice. Others remain burned into my retinas (fellas do the world a favor and try a little manscaping). Unless you've found Bigfoot's dick, I don't want to see photographic evidence of something that hairy.

And it seems the second the picture is received, all communication is lost. No more texts, emails or phone calls. And all I'm left with is photographic evidence that he has tamed the one-eyed monster. What I don't understand is why. If you're gonna commit to sending a photo why can't you commit to coffee? I'm at a total loss. And just like every mother thinks her baby is the most beautiful creature on the planet (mine actually is) every man thinks his manhood is the most beautiful...um, creature on the planet.

So I guess the moral is, once you send you can't go back again. So keep it in your pants until you've bought the lady a dinner or three. Oh, and if you do decide to go ahead and send a photo - at least be a little excited about it.

Beware

That's right. I'm in a foul mood today. A good friend suggested I go to the ladies room here at work and take care of myself.

Fellas do you actually do this? Duck into the men's room and give yourself an attitude adjustment in the middle of the day? I just can't imagine. That's so gross to me on so many levels. You know what? I don't actually wanna know if you do or don't.

I don't need an orgasm (ok, so yeah I do but whatevs). I need romance. I need the company of another adult (male). I need affection. And most of all, I need something to look forward to.

And a quick trip to the restroom accomplishes exactly NONE of that.

Finding a Way

While perusing through Target the other day, I found a sleep shirt that read "Love will find a Way".

Personally, I'd like to call bullshit on that.

There are plenty of outside factors that put so many obstacles in Love's proverbial path it's hard to claim it will always find a way.

For example, here lately I seem to find men that could be perfect for me. If only they didn't live so damn far away. Of course the dating pool here is terrifyingly shallow. But men who share my interests generally aren't drawn to East Texas. Men who enjoy the arts (and are straight), who are college-educated (and aren't already married) and will put up with my admitted quirkiness are extremely hard to find.

It's not that I've given up hope. I'm just going on hiatus awhile. I'm not going to actively look anymore.

And the funny thing is, everyone always tells me that when you stop looking is when you find that very special someone. My attitude has always been that if I'm not looking for something, I'll never find it.

Maybe the hurdles love has to jump in order to find me have been placed there myself. Maybe love will find a way after all.

Wink, Wink

You know the look. A batted eyelash. A crooked smile. A blush in the cheek. It's called flirting. And it's becoming a lost art form.

Look I can be pretty oblivious at times. But I know how to turn on the charm. A few light-hearted jabs thrown into the conversation with a few blatant double entendres used to do the trick. Damn I hate east Texas sometimes. The men here that can track with my admittedly dirty mind are either gay or married (or both).

It's not that I'm afraid to be blunt. It's that I enjoy the chase. That first realization that the guy you're digging might actually like you too is - well it's a hell of a lot of fun. It took my very first boyfriend months to actually make a move. And the anticipation was exquisite.


I'd much rather flirt and date and take my time then ask a man outright if he'd like to accompany me to the proverbial bedroom. Of course I couldn't use words like proverbial 'round these parts. Besides, I'm not looking for someone to fuck. I'm looking for someone to date -and then eventually fuck. I prefer to make love - but when it comes to sex, I'm a realist. Making love is another dying art form - but that's a-whole-nother blog post.


My approach to men is part Marilyn Monroe part Mae West. A little doe-eyed with a bawdy sense of humor. Very tongue in cheek. I feel there's a that's what she said joke in there - but I'm gonna leave it alone.

Here's the Cliff's Notes version of Flirting 101. If a girl smiles, makes eye-contact, touches your arm and flips her hair, chances are she's into you. And If you want to ever get into her - you'll have to pick up what she's putting down.




And if this post offended you - just remember the words of my idol Mae West. "Those who are easily shocked should be shocked more often".

Hanging Out and Hanging In

I love evenings when the company is stress free, the laughter comes easily and the beer and conversation flow freely. I had a wonderful evening with an old friend. It's so nice to be able to just hang out with someone special. It's super special when I can let go and truly be myself. No need for filters or fear. I have an amazing life that I've been known to hide. Just being Baily - both the girl I once was and the woman I've become - is such a freeing experience.

Normally, I begin my mornings with joy. I woke up this morning with such a sorrow in the pit of my stomach. What happens when you find someone but there are so many obstacles to overcome?

Finding someone is hard enough. Sometimes I think I might as well be searching for a needle in a haystack. I might never actually see it, but I keep getting poked. I've been told that I will find someone when I'm not looking. I think if I'm not looking, I'm just out there floating. I'm spinning my wheels - standing on the gas but not getting anywhere.

I've been searching for someone geographically, physically and intellectually desirable. Here lately it seems the universe has been telling me to "pick two". I don't understand why I can't have all three. Oh yes, now I remember. I live in Marshall fucking Texas. I'm a bit too quirky for this town. Distance can be overcome, but I won't compromise when it comes to my daughter. She and I are a package deal. The man I wind up with will have to realize he will be the only daddy she ever knows.

I said last night that I didn't really think I'd ever get married. Is there really not a partner out there for me? Am I destined to raise my little girl on my own?


All I've ever wanted is a family. Some days that seems unattainable. Some days it seems like it might be closer than I think. Sometimes I feel like the kitty in the poster. I'm hanging in there, but just barely. I'm clinging to something that will never really feel safe. Don't worry though - I'm too hard-headed or stupid to give up on a love to call my own.

I've lost more love than I care to admit. All I can really do now is keep my heart, and eyes open and hope for more lovely nights in the future.

The Rotation

Fellas, I'm going to let you in on a secret. Most single ladies have a rotation. Meaning, we have different gentlemen we call on from time to time for different things. There are plenty of times when a lady needs an escort. And sometimes, we just want sex. Now this doesn't mean all the men in the rotation have seen us naked- just means you might not be the only man in our life.

There's nothing wrong with keeping options open. It's a defense mechanism really. Some animals play dead, some fight back, and some smart creatures make sure they have a plan B (or C or D or E - All of the above). Having your heart ripped out is no fun. It's a hell of a lot easier when you have someone else to fall back on.

For me, the rotation ends when a committment is made. When a guy decides he actually wants me to be his girlfriend, I will invest all of my time into that relationship. I expect him to do the same. There's nothing wrong with keeping options open while you're single. When you've made a choice - either stick with it or break things off.

Believe it or not, my "type" isn't "has a penis". Although that has been suggested from time to time as being the truth. My type is "shows an interest".

My last serious boyfriend, SB won simply because he made the first move. We dated for 3 years and were wrong for each other in so many ways. At the time, I had two other perfectly nice guys in the rotation. But SB decided he wanted to be exclusive and I gave him 3 years of my life - only to wind up heartbroken.

That makes me seriously reconsider letting the guy make the first move. It's 20-fucking-11 after all. I'm a strong woman. And still, I'm scared shitless. I hate being rejected. But no guts no glory right?

I classify myself as clumsy. A good friend pointed out recently that I'm messy. And he's not wrong. Actually, he's right and it kills me to admit it. So, I'll continue to say he's not wrong. I'm much more likely to drop food on my shirt rather than walk into a glass door. I've done both. Today. But who's counting?

I hope I'm not making a big mess. But here I am...


I'm just not sure if he loves me back. So I'm going to have to take a risk. Fuck the rotation, I'm ready for something real.

And if it doesn't work out - life is just a series of circles anyway. There will be a new rotation. People enter and exit your life for a reason. I'm hope I'm learning my lessons well. I'm tired of heart break and all outta duct tape.

Up from the Ashes

My mother is an amazing source of advice. Unsolicited and unwanted advice. But sometimes she really comes up with some gems.

She asked me the other day if I really thought I could find love online.

Well where the hell else should I look?

I don't think I'll find my soul mate in some bar. I'm out of academia for the time being so no boys to pick up from school. Work? We'll just settle that with a fuck no. And it seems the activities I enjoy are also well-liked by gay men. Que sera.

So it's online or recycle. Now I'm all for doing the planet some good, but I'm not sure if recycling old flames counts.

With that said, I took a HUGE step towards healing this weekend. A phoenix from my past arose from the ashes. And just in time too.

I was under the impression that none of my former boyfriends had ever really loved me. For once, I can admit that I was wrong. And thank goodness. To feel that none of the men I gave my heart (and not to mention body) to gave a rip about me is hard on the ol' self-esteem.

I've been falling all over the fucking place. In my quest for true love I kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. I thought I was destined to stay in a labyrinthine jail forever. This weekend, I just removed a stumbling block. A door opened. A path to getting my groove back was revealed. Now maybe I can move forward again.

I'm not gonna lie. If I could find a way to keep the love I lost and found again I would. I'm just not sure there's a way. But most phoenixes (phoeni?) What the hell is the plural of phoenix anyway? Anyway, they're all destined to die again. Could I survive another death, even if I knew it could be revived?

Or is that love put back in my life for a reason?

I guess time is the only thing that will tell. But until I get a committment, I'm not going to sit in my room and pine for what once was and could be again.

I'm going to go out. I'm going to stumble some more. And hope like hell the next time I let myself fall, there will be someone worthy there to catch me.

Mom's right, after all. I don't know if I can find love on the world wide web. I just know I won't find it unless I look.

Home is Where the Heart Is

"This means the same to me" he said as tears streamed down my face.

We share a lifetime of inside jokes, anecdotes, and our own special language. We share a hometown and went to the same college. He's put stars in my eyes since I first had a crush on him in the first grade. We laugh together. We challenge each other. We support each other. We can pick up where we left off whether it's been 5 days or 5 years.

They say you can't go home again. They also say home is where the heart is. I'm still trying to figure out what it is they actually know. They sure do say alot.

Not too long ago I found myself back in my high school bedroom, living with my parents with a baby on the way. I'm back home in a big way. And it still gets to me. So I've decided to embrace my current situation whole-heartedly.

I'm getting back out in the community. I'm getting involved in church and other activities. I'm creating a legacy of service to my community for my daughter. I've firmly set my feet back home.

My heart? Oh I lost it a long time ago. See I'm the worst at losing things. I've put my keys in the freezer and searched frantically for my eyeglasses - that I later found on top of my head. In the kitchen I've been known to do a full 360 looking for a spatula that is still in my hands.

Last night I had a breakthrough. After years of searching, I re-discovered my heart.

Usually when I lose something I re-trace my steps. I put on my Sherlock Holmes cap when I lost my keys and found it was elementary. I was thirsty when I walked in the door and got a cold glass of water. For some stupid reason, I set my keys inside the freezer while I was doing something else (read: running my mouth).

I was able to re-trace my steps last night. After an amazing conversation, I realized he had it all along. My complete and utter romantic failures stemmed from the fact that I couldn't give my all to anyone else because my first love still had such a large part of me.

Two major things I had been battling suddenly were solved this weekend. My home is Marshall, Texas. In the same bedroom I used in high school. Right across the hall from my baby girl and across the house from Mom and Dad. My heart remains with the only man I've ever really loved.

I'm not sure what our next step is or if we'll even take any. At least I know where my heart is now.

Friday the 13th

Today is Friday the 13th. If I told you I weren't a superstitious, I'd be lying. So far today, it's been a bad one. I'm having a difficult time getting things to go right.

If I had a date lined up today, which I don't, I'd cancel. If I've learned anything from horror films (and gosh I hope so since that was my major in college) I know better than to try to get anything accomplished today.


It's not that I'm afraid if I were to go out with a blind date tonight that they'd wind up a machete-wielding maniac. But I'm kind of afraid that I would wind up with an axe murderer, mama's boy or unemployed zombie.

Or, I could shake it off and actually meet someone nice today. You know - normal, not living at home and employed.

Or, I could stay at home tonight, pop popcorn and watch a Jason Voorhees marathon.

I think I'm gonna go with Jason. With him, at least I know what to expect.

The Merry Month of May

May is one of my very favorite months. It's the beginning of summer, flowers are in bloom, and also it's National Masterbation Month.

We have a lot of fucked up holidays in this country but a whole month to celebrate self-love? Count. Me. In. I'm worse than a 13 year old boy with a new-found stack of Playboys.

Personally, I celebrate masterbation month every month. I know not every 20-something (Yes, I'm still in my twenties damnit.) is as empowered as I am. I can't imagine a world where one has to be dependent on a man to have an orgasm. Sure, they're more fun with a partner - but being self-sufficient is never a bad thing.

Ladies, I know toys can be scary. After my last post, I decided to let my fingers do the walking in a different way and get in a little online shopping. Since my first dildo was far too loud and impractical for actual use, I thought maybe I would find something else.

I found one that had tentacles. Seriously. Tentacles. This is me trying to get a little quiet time in - not a fucking animated Japanese porno. Also, there was one advertised that was 24 inches long. THAT'S TWO FUCKING FEET! And interestingly enough, I found a rubber ducky. Not exactly sure how that one works - but I'm sure it would make bathtime fun. That is, if I weren't so afraid of electrocuting myself. That would be a fun tombstone. Here lies Baily - she died by vibrating rubber ducky.

There's nothing wrong with letting your fingers do the walking. It's served me for more years than I care to admit.

So friends, this month - go on and give yourself a hand. The government says it's ok! You've earned it.

No Toy Soldiers

This past weekend, my two gay boyfriends rescued me from a Saturday evening at home. We went to the local bar and had an absolute blast - and some of the best margaritas in Texas.

Invariably our conversation turned to sex. Namely my lack of a sex life and what I was doing to help myself along.

Years ago, they accompanied me to buy my one and only bedroom toy.
I've used it maybe twice in my life.

They wanted to know why.

It's LOUD! The thing sounds like a damn lawnmower. And it honestly doesn't get me where I wanna go any faster than the um low tech way I normally employ.

I have lots of friends who swear by their toys, but I just don't get it.

I don't want a toy anyway. I want a man. But - here's the catch - I want a man who cares about me.

I'm not looking for a boy toy or a bedroom toy. I'm looking for something real.

And until I find exactly what I'm looking for, you can keep your plastic pleasure tools. I'm a self sufficient kinda gal.

Can it Be?

Whoa! I actually got a well written, respectful message from an online dating service.

Well hot damn!

So this gentleman and I have progressed from emails to texts. And thus far, not one lewd picture or clumsy attempt at sexting.

Holy appropriate conversation Batman!

Can it be? Did I actually find a semi-normal guy out there who actually wants to take me on a real date? Usually when things like this seem too good to be true, they are. And if his pictures are to be believed, he has all of his teeth and a normal haircut. No mullets in sight.

Seven. Seven. Seven. Jackpot!



Ladies and gentlemen, this could be a winner! Or it could be a disaster. Or a new friend.

Only time will tell.

Bad Blind Date

So this weekend was a little crazy.


I had a blind date. Apparently, he thought I was actually blind because his pictures were from 100 lbs ago, and he was not actually in the lucrative job he claimed - he was planning to go to school for said lucrative job in the near future (read: unemployed).


I decided to give him a chance, because after all, I did go through the trouble of finding a sitter and actually getting out of the house. That and I really didn't have anything else going on. Sad, but true.


The entire conversation circled around sex. If I tried to steer it away - he somehow brought it back. And honestly, some of his suggestions were pretty damn good. I mean, I seem to remember a time when I enjoyed doing the things he was talking about. There were just no sparks there. Not for me at least.

He continues to text me about the things he'd like to do to me. As a matter of fact, just three seconds ago I received "I'm so horney for you Bailey." There are two major things wrong with that text. He spelled "horney" and my name wrong. Don't know which is the bigger turn-off.

I'm baffled by the recent rash of men who have been so blunt about just wanting to have sex with me. I was in a relationship for a long time, and am still fairly new to the dating scene, but have things really changed this much? Whatever happened to getting to know someone before you jumped right into bed with them? What happened to going out on actual dates - where you do some sort of activity (dinner/movie/concert/etc) before assuming you'd actually want to have sex with a person?

I'm very honest on my dating profile about not looking for a special naked friend. I'm an attractive girl, if I just wanted to get laid, I could. But I don't want that. I want to be loved, cherished, needed and respected. Of course I want all of that from a man who knows how to *ahem* treat me right.

A note about sexting. I'm all for it - just make sure the person on the receiving end actually wants dirty notes/pictures/etc. There's nothing more embarrassing than recieving a graphic photo at an inopportune time. Also, please use proper spelling. I don't want to have to guess if you're actually trying to be graphic or your iPhone is dirty and autocorrecting.

This guy was coming on so strong, I decided to call it an early night. I hate being deceitful, but I also hate being unkind. So I did the only thing I could think of - I faked a baby emergency. I feel awful about it, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell him that I would never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever have sex with him. And since we couldn't seem to talk about anything else - I can assure you there won't be a second date.

Other than that, I had an amazing weekend. I went to see one of my favorite bands play with a very good friend. We danced our butts off and had some great laughs. As always, we had a blast together. Then Easter Sunday was all about spending time with God and family.

I keep praying that God will lead me to the man He has planned for me. But until then, I'll keep the faith that there is someone out there for me who's interested in the whole package.

Is it the Weekend Yet?

Busy weekend ahead! Family festivities, a Dirtfoot show with a good friend, and a blind date. Eek!

The blind date is tonight and I couldn't be more nervous. I've had so many crash and burn - so if this thing actually goes off without a hitch I'll be pleasantly surprised. We've been talking/texting so I'm sure everything will go fine. But sometimes, even if conversation is good, there's no spark to hold your interest. I hope that I can at least make a new friend out of the deal.

Stay tuned. Monday will bring a whole lotta new to the blog.

Happy Easter everyone. Have a wonderful weekend.

Damn Boys

Since when did Damn Girl become a compliment?

As you know, I'm doing the online dating thing right now. I got a message last night.

"Damn girl. You fine. Holla at me 903-xxx-xxxx"

That's just unacceptable. I can assure you, he didn't read anything on my profile. He saw my pictures and sent me the above message.

I posted this to my facebook page and one of my friends had a very good point. There's no more courting in the world.

I want a man who will take charge. For the first date, I want him to make plans. Yes, I'm looking for a partner but I'm still an old fashioned girl at heart. I want a man to be able to take charge when need be. It's an immediate turn off to me if I have to initiate every single plan made. Yes, I do love to cuddle on the couch while watching tv, but sometimes it's nice to have other plans made for you.

Is a little romance just not in the cards for me? Do you know I've never gotten flowers? I don't need 2 dozen long stemmed red roses. A 5 dollar bouquet from the grocery store would absolutely make my heart melt and not to mention, make my clothes fall off faster than a fifth of tequila.

Fellas, in the world of romance grand gestures aren't needed. It's truly the little things. I want to be courted. I want someone to work to gain my heart, my trust, my love and my body. I want someone who actually thinks I'm worth taking the time to woo.

A Night at the Opera

I had a wonderful and jam-packed weekend. Saturday night I went to the opera. My friend (and prom date from over a decade ago) Ricky was in the chorus, and got me a ticket. To my surprise it was 5th row center. The performances were amazing and the sets awe-inspiring.

The opera was about a pair of doomed lovers. Of course you can't imagine why this might speak to me.

I went unescorted and I learned something. I enjoy my own company. It would have been wonderful to have someone to share in the experience with me, but I'm finally okay with being alone.

Before my last serious relationship, I did alot of things all by myself. I went to concerts, plays, restaurants and even the occasional movie alone. If I really wanted to do something, and had no one to go with me, I'd go anyway.

When my ex came along, I leaned upon him as my constant date. We didn't always do the things I wanted to, but there was always someone with me. How lame is that?

This is part of getting back a piece of myself that was lost. I love a live performance. Comedy clubs, plays, music, opera, ballet, even my niece's dance and piano recitals draw me in like nothing else can. I've sat on the front row of a black box theater and silenty cried my eyes out. I've danced like no one was watching at a concert. And once again, this weekend, I laughed and cried along with the audience at the opera. There's something strangely intimate about sharing art with a room full of strangers. Watching other artists puts stars in my eyes. It takes me back to being a child sitting with mom and dad and thinking someday I'm gonna be up there on that stage. And I have been blessed enough to have graced a few stages in my past. Looking forward I hope to grace a few more. I have a lot of performances left in me. Both as a participant and patron.

A friend suggested that I make a list of qualities I'm looking for in a mate. Appreciation of the arts ranks quite high on that list.

Right now I'm still getting to know myself again. As I learn more about what is non-negotiable for me I'll add more items to that list.

And to have a partner who will not only go to the opera, but won't have to be dragged there kicking and screaming is definitely a must for me.

A True Love

God slapped me in the face this weekend. I've been looking for love in the wrong places, searching for something that doesn't exist. See, I've been trying to replace Godly love with an earthly love. And it just ain't working.

Friday night, I went to see The Sacrifice at my friend's church. It was amazing, and after the play I realized the completeness of God's love for me. He doesn't care that I'm not perfect. And the right man for me is one He will put in my life. I've been looking for a man that will complete me, but I'm already made whole through God's love for me. I had forgotten that. I had been sailing my own ship and not letting the Lord steer me through the tough waters I faced.

I don't talk about my faith much. Probably because I share an office with a complete nut case who will tell anyone who will listen the end is coming soon. (Beware false prophets friends.)

I have been praying for God to put the right man in my life for the last three weeks or so. I do love someone dearly. He tells me he doesn't see me in that light, but his actions tell me another story altogether. I'm confused and confounded by that man. But I still love him. He hurt me badly and I forgave him. That night as I watched the greatest love story ever told unfold around me, tears streamed down my face. Then a still, quiet voice told me not to give up. One day the love I have to give will be returned. And I'm not sure who He has in mind for me but I have faith He has a plan.

And we all know my plan sure isn't working.

"We love because He first loved us." 1 John 4:19

I have to accept God's love first, and let him give me a partner who loves Him too. For those of you who pray, please pray that God will continue to guide me and I will continue to let Him.

Cheaters Never Prosper

Okay - so I heard back from the cutie patootie from the tire store today. He still has a girlfriend so I'm curious as to why he keeps sweating me for a lunch date. I believe he has no intentions of leaving his girlfriend but is maybe looking for something on the side.

I so don't want to be that girl. Is it too much to ask to find a man who loves and respects me? Apparently I'm just not able to find that man.

Don't get me wrong, the dude from the tire store is a nice guy and I'd like to be his friend, but that's where it will have to stay. I'm not going to knowingly be someone's mistress. That's not who I am or how I was raised.

I've been thinking a lot about this lately, and I'm not going to find the man that's right with me until I'M right with me. There are many things in my life I could change. I'm currently thinking about going back to school, and changing jobs. I really want to get back into my own place and a new job will help me get there. Also, I'm searching for a church home. Oh, and doing the whole gym thing.

Once I'm the Baily I want to be, I'll find the man who's just as happy with me as I am. That's not to say I don't love myself. I do. But once I get to where I want to be I'll be much better off.

I'm ready to give someone my all. But maybe they can sense that I can be more. I'm working hard to becoming a better person. And when I reach my goals, nothing will be able to hold me back. I have to keep my hopes up. I'm sure there are more heart breaks headed my way. But I'm damn sure not going to break some other poor girl's heart and get nothing out of the deal. No dice friends. No dice.

I will find a man that loves me and respects me. I'm worthy of that. But a man who wants less than my all (or only wants my ass) is not worthy of me.

Out of the Blue

Confession alert! I have a little crush on my mechanic. He's cute and personable and funny. And I was sure he wasn't interested in me at all. In fact, months ago while waiting on an oil change, he told me he had a girlfriend. I didn't ask, it just came up in conversation. So, I dismissed it and just moved on. I saw him recently at my store and we talked while he was waiting. This was maybe two or three weeks ago. And I may or may not go to the tire store to get oil changes because he might be there. Whatevs.

Today he calls me up at work out of the clear blue to see if I wanted to join him for lunch. Unfortunately I couldn't. I had just gotten back from my break. I was taken aback to say the least, but the call itself did put a little extra pep in my step.

So...did he just ask me out? Would lunch be considered a "date" date? Or is it just two friends eating together at the same place and at the same time? And since we've never done anything together socially before why are we setting a new precedent?

Fellas here's a clue. I have NO FUCKING IDEA if you like me or not. I probably would have had much more success in the mating rituals somewhere in the caveman era. Subtilety does not work with me. In order for me to figure out if a guy is flirting with me or not, I almost literally need to be hit upside the head.

I have always had a hard time decyphering whether or not a guy is romantically interested in me. I'm a great flirt, but most of the time I believe it's harmless and he doesn't really mean it. My first love had to kiss me in order for me to realize he actually liked me as a girlfriend. I honestly didn't have a clue where I stood with him until he made the first move.

And I really like it when the guy makes the first move. Don't get me wrong, I have no problems asking a guy out. But with my string of bad luck, I've decided to let the man lead. This doesn't always work though. The object of my affection might be as clueless as I am. A nd letting the man lead doesn't always work out well. Last week my friend asked me to be his girlfriend and broke up with me the next day. I ought to get a trophy for breaking a land speed record on that deal. No worries though, we're still good friends.

But is a lunch date an actual date anyway? Isn't that generally the kiss of death? Lunch is generally reserved for family, co-workers and long time boyfriends. Not a first date. Right?

Since I didn't go, I guess I'll never know. And since I'm a complete dumbass and didn't ask for his cell number I guess I really won't know. Unless he calls me again. Or I rack up the 1,000 miles necessary for me to get my oil changed without looking like a complete crazy stalker.

Do I make a move? Do I wait it out? Do I put it to the back of my mind and not obsess over it?

Maybe the answer is to wait. But Tom Petty got this right kids. The waiting is the hardest part.

My First Love

Ahh, my sweet first love.

He texted me out of the clear blue today. He wants to see me. Unfortunately, he wants to see all of me. I'm not so sure I can do that.

The problem is, when we were dating, more than a decade ago now, I was madly in love with him. But I'm not sure if he was as in love with me. I'm not even completely sure he loved me at all.

We used to have a code for when I was on my cycle. He said I was broken. We didn't see each other except for times when we could make love. I was definitely making love to him. And I'm pretty sure he was just fucking me.

Don't get me wrong - he was very gentle. The best first love a girl could ask for really. He took the time to make me comfortable - among other things. I just wonder if he truly loved me. Because there is a large part of me that will always love him deeply.

Just seeing his name on my phone screen sends chills down my spine and releases butterflies in my stomach.

We had such a torrid love affair. Before we consummated our love, we'd date. We'd lose touch, and then the Universe would somehow bring us back together again. We'd run into each other randomly somewhere. After we finally decided to really be together - after that long-awaited first kiss outside my dorm room door, I thought it was all over. I thought I would be with him forever.

Then, one day he told me he was moving to Austin. I cried for weeks. We tried to date again once he returned, but the damage was done.

I'd love to see him again. There is a part of me that would love to be his again - even if just for one night.

But I can't. I don't think I could see his face without falling in love all over again. And even I'm not as big a glutton for punishment as you might think.

So, I can't see him. Not today. I'm broken. And it will take a lot more than one night of bliss to make me whole again.

Lost and Found

Ok baby brush it off. Time to get back up and keep going. Time to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Time to get back to Baily.

Somewhere along the way, I lost myself. I like to work out - so I'm going again 5 days a week. I like church - so I'm actively seeking a church home. I live to make films - so I'm grabbing every opportunity that comes my way. I love being a mom - so I'm going to hold my baby a little bit closer every night.

I'm going to listen to Hendrix, the Kinks and ZZ Top. Loudly. I'm going to quote Star Wars, and be the smartest person most people know. I'm going to count my blessings. I'm tired of fucking hiding. So I'm going to stop that shit right now.

See, I went into hiding because I got caught with my pants down. Being a single mom ain't easy. And I'm not looking for a baby daddy. Fuck that. I'm looking for a partner. Whoever is standing at the finish line when my journey ends had better love me. Don't get me wrong, my daughter and I are a package deal. But he'd better love both of us unconditionally.

He'd better love that I snort when I really laugh. Going to see live bands is in my very DNA. He'd better be able to go and enjoy himself. I yell at the TV...during football games and Jeopardy. I read for fun. I don't stop myself if I'm moved to tears by art. I have been known to completely geek out about movies. I have kept a journal every day of my life since my seventh birthday. Those are private. I dance when I clean house - usually to Jimmy Buffett. I'm a true and loyal friend. I mess with my hair - a lot. I am a good cook - but I'm even better at making a mess in the kitchen. I love funk music and seeing plays in the park. I need to create, write, edit, make movies like people need to breathe. I have a dark sense of humor and love a good slasher film.

I need to be me again. Unapologetically me. I need to be the person my friends know and love. Not some fake representation of myself.

I lost my joy somewhere - but I'm slowly getting it back.

And from this moment forward - I'm never going to lose Baily again.

Consolation Prize

Remember the little street fairs that would roll through town with the horribly unsafe rides and the rigged games? Sure, you always tried to win the big pink teddy bear, but somehow wound up with a tiny stuffed monkey instead. Well guess who’s the tiny stuffed monkey?

That’s me. I’m just a consolation prize. I am the toy that no one wants – but keeps anyway to play with a few times and then throw away. That’s me.
I have been asked to be a mistress. I’ve been asked to be the girl on the side. Friends with benefits? Sure, that too.

But I don’t want any of that.

I just want to be cherished. Is that too much to ask? Am I doomed to be the consolation prize the rest of my life?

When I was finally asked to be a girlfriend, he confessed to me that he let his sexual urges get the better of him. You see, he didn’t really want me, he wanted my body. It was nice of him not to sleep with me though.

A two year pattern is no longer a series of unfortunate coincidences. I think somewhere around the two year mark it becomes fact. And the fact of the matter is my sparkling personality doesn’t mean shit.

Bittersweet

Without the bitter, you don't appreciate the sweet.

Have you ever met someone and had those immediate sparks? The kind that turns your tummy to mush and makes your heart race? The thought of a new romantic interest, with it's promise of happiness and perhaps, love is almost addictive. They call it puppy love. Who can resist? Smiles from across the room, flirty kisses, holding hands - all the good stuff you get to do before the real work of a relationship starts.

Lately I haven't even had a chance to stay with someone long enough for the real work to start. The sweetness begins with a bang and then it's all over.

I think I may have a Romeo and Juliet complex. Are all my lovers doomed to be of the star-crossed variety?

Sometimes I feel like I'm perpetually stuck in Casablanca. The film, not the city. I'm Ilsa and I only have a Rick - no Victor in sight.

But could I settle for a Victor? A good man, whom I love dearly? Or will I always be chasing after a Bogey? The man who is wrong for me in so many ways, but just feels so right?

Whether it's distance, differing levels of attraction, or just plain wrong - I seem to only be able to find men who will at some point or another, still leave me lonely.

But ah, that first date is sweet isn't it? It's all about that first kiss. That moment when someone sees the real you for the first time. The first glimmer of hope that you've finally found someone. That's why I keep going.

I'm tired of the bitter. The parting is such sweet sorrow. The "'tis better to have loved and lost...".

I want a happy ending. My life is no fairy tale - I know. And I realize that even a strong relationship takes work. I guess I'm just ready for the work to begin.

Will my heart ever heal itself so much that the pieces of duct tape holding it together disappears? Probably not.

I pray my trials and tribulations today will help pave the way to a brighter future tomorrow.

I have no doubts that every man I've ever given my heart has helped to shape me. Mold me into a better person.

Because if I didn't still believe that the sweet was out there for me, I could become bitter.

So, to the loves I've lost, and the ones I haven't yet met - "Here's looking at you, kid."

Wisdom from Mom

My mother has some unorthodox views on dating. Just wanted to share an actual conversation we had recently.

Use Me

I love love love this song. I wish I had more words today, but I just don't.

Sometimes I feel the kind of relationship Bill is talking about is all I'll ever have. Here's hoping I can find someone to make me say "baby, baby, baby, baby, when you love me I can't get enough..."

Don't get me wrong - I still hope I find the love of my life. But until then, it would be nice to bring a little old fashioned lust into my life.

I'll leave you today with the sexiest song I know.

Ladies and gentlemen - Mr. Bill Withers

Cutting the Fat

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I just don’t know. I honestly can’t pinpoint why men don’t want me.

Well I take that back. The men that say they want me only want pussy. The men who want to be my friend don’t want to date me. And the men that want an actual relationship with me live too far away to deem a real love affair.

I just wish somebody would tell me what is wrong with me so I can fix it and move on with my life.

So I went to my best friend. Emil is the most honest men I know. He told me he thought if I lost some more weight I might feel better about myself. And he is right.
So, I’m going to post this in a public forum. On my 30th birthday I’m going to have some tasteful “boudoir” pictures done. Think old school pin-up. No nudity, but plenty implied.

And I’m posting them here. On my blog. For the world to see.

So here's a countdown to (almost) naked pictures. Good thing I'm going to the gym tonight.

Making It

Since I’ve become a mother, so many people are asking me about my “baby daddy”. He’s not in the picture. He never will be in the picture. I’ve tried everything I can to get him in the picture – for her sake, not mine. And I’m done.

Then there is the whole “I didn’t know you were dating/engaged/married” thing. I wasn’t. I was fucking him. That is the plainest, simplest way I can put it.

I began spending time with my daughter’s father after my ex-boyfriend shattered my heart. He and I (the ex-boyfriend) had been dating for three years, when all of a sudden he yanked all of his love and affection from me. The end culminated in a 24 hour period of him not answering or returning my phone calls/texts. When our relationship fell apart I was re-introduced to someone I had known (not in the biblical sense) before.

I was so hurt; I wanted any kind of affection. Love and sex have always walked hand in hand for me. I was fucking him looking for love in a very wrong place. And yet I found it. Because of him, I met the true love of my life. And I named her Zoey Elizabeth.

But when you tell people that your child’s dad is not in the picture you get strange responses. Someone actually told me “I’m glad you’re making the best of it.” Making the best of it? She’s MY baby. We’re not some charity case. We ARE a family. And this is the way it was meant to be.

Do I want her to have a father someday? Yes. I do.

But the man I marry, the man I decide to spend OUR lives with will have to love both of us. Not just one or the other. We are a package deal.

Life might have thrown me a curve ball, but baby I hit it outta the fucking park.

I’m not looking for someone to rescue us. I don’t need a life preserver. I’m not drowning. We are thriving. She has so much love in her life and so do I. I do hope I will find the type of romantic love I hope for and the type of fatherly love she deserves.

And until then, you can bet your ass we’re “making it”.

In His Arms

Occassionally I write poetry. And even less often I actually let others read it. So you can consider this post a rarity indeed.

In His Arms

You ask me why I look at you like that
Like I’m looking through you
But I’m not
I’m looking into your soul
Seeing us intertwine
Becoming as one
Bursting with love
You see me as more than I am
A bright shining star
But all I am
All I have
And all I want to be
Is just your baby girl

Where's my Prince?

I was recently asked by a would-be suitor what I was looking for in a relationship. I’m looking for a relationship in a relationship. I want it all. Dinners out, cuddling on the couch, love making, deep conversations and chatting about absolutely nothing. I want everything! What I’m looking for is intimacy in every way. The problem is I’m not getting a well-rounded experience.

I might as well say I’m looking for a leprechaun riding a unicorn. I’m concerned I’m looking for a boyfriend who will always remain imaginary.

It’s not as though my concerns aren’t valid. Shit I’ve had so many dates and relationships fall completely fucking to pieces I’m writing a blog about it. Maybe I just don't get the fairy tale ending. Sometimes I think I’m just not meant to find love. Maybe that’s why I was given the gift of my little girl. Maybe that’s all the love the universe has to offer me.

But I want a husband. A life partner. A best friend. A good lover. A great father.

And I don’t think I’m wrong to want that.

Fellas, here’s a newsflash. Girls like sex too. Seriously. But we only like sex if we’re, ahem, getting what we need. We also need all the mushy stuff y’all hate. Really. We need to be listened to and appreciated. Oh and we know you might not be able to be everything we need all the time. But you can’t fake your way through both aspects and get away with it for very long.

I’ve had relationships that were awesome in the bedroom, but nowhere else. And others that hit all the high notes with one very notable exception. I need a man who can take my breath away in all aspects.

Maybe I am asking for too much. Shit.

But if I wanted to settle, I’d probably be married (or divorced) by now. Why can’t I have it all? Why can’t I strive for the best relationship I can have?

I am an eternal optimist. Even when I get knocked down, I stand back up, brush myself off, throw my shoulders back and keep struttin. Just lately I’m questioning why I haven’t been able to make something happen with someone special.

My favorite animated film ever is Snow White. It has a lot of special meaning for me. But most importantly at this time, is the song “Someday My Prince Will Come.” Just like the beautiful princess, I’m still waiting on that special kiss that will mark the start of the rest of my life.

And so my friends, I leave you with a song in my heart...

Talking Dirty on Friday Nights

Working like I did in the film and television industry, I was privy to a lot of conversations men generally keep amongst themselves. I started to write a journal about all of the things I learned from the men I worked with - one straight, one gay and one - well just very open.

I'm not sure if any of our conversations have helped me along the way. But I certainly did learn more than I probably wanted to know about how men's minds work. They let me take a peek and see the inner workings of their brains. So I'm going to share a few of those stories with you.

Only I've done these in xtranormal form. Never heard of xtranormal? Then go here. It's so much fun.

I only have one favor to ask of you. Please, please, please follow, comment etc. It helps keep me accountable. I write for me, but I write a hell of a lot more for others.

So, here's my first video.

Mad Libs!

So, I got an email today on OkCupid that read as a very dirty mad lib.

It was too good not to pass along. Friends I know you're reading this - because you tell me you are. So prove it! Leave your answers in the comments section below!

Hi there! ;) I'm _________ (proper name)

I would just love to ________ (verb) my ___________ (body part) between those ________(adjective) _________ (body part).

Then, I want you to _________(verb) my __________ (body part) until I just can't ______(verb) it.

After that, I'm going to __________ (verb) you until you ___________ (verb) my name.

And then, I'm thinking dinner and a movie?

Sincerely,
____________(proper name)


On the one hand, it's a really great ice-breaker. On the other hand - if you're gonna be a pervert (as my friend Jessica pointed out) - go big or go home!

Please, Mr. Postman

Note: This post doesn't bring the funny at all. If you want to see something lighter, read anything else on this site.

Last night*, I received a very hurtful email from someone I used to - well we'll call it "date". He listed a multitude of my flaws, both real and imagined. I can easily ignore that. Trust me, I'm the first person to admit that I am a deeply flawed individual.

But there was one thing I can't ignore. Apparently he thought my only redeeming quality was the level of ability I had at a certain bedroom task. Basically, I am a zen master when it comes to fellatio.

And I agree, our relationship - if you can call it that - was mostly physical. I did, however, naively believe that we shared some level of friendship. To come at me with such vitriol was completely uncalled for and out of the clear fucking blue.

But I wonder if he's right.

Not that my only contribution to society are blow jobs. I mean, it's not like my tombstone is going to read "Here lies Baily. She sucked a mean dick".

It's just that I have no problems finding men who want me physically.

My problem lies in finding a man who wants all of me. My heart. My soul. My brain.

I want someone who wants to take me out to dinner damnit! I want someone who wants to watch TV with me. Someone to grow old with. Someone to love myself and my daughter fiercely.

And I fucking deserve it.

I want a boyfriend. Not a special naked friend. Not a not-so-special naked friend.

I obviously didn't find love in this asshole's arms. I found a temporary patch for my loneliness.

I guess I just don't understand why I can't seem to find someone who's even willing to try to love me. I wonder if anyone I've ever dated actually did love me at some point or another.

My first great love was in my freshman year of college. I did love him. We were very happy together, then all of a sudden - we weren't. We went our seperate ways. On occassion, we still talk - but the deep love I felt for him is no longer there. Of course a decade has a way of cooling even the hottest flame.

Up next was a horrific and abusive relationship. I know that particular boyfriend couldn't possibly know or understand what love means. Actually - he's a whole 'nuther fucking blog. So...

Then there was my rebound/post-college boyfriend. He might have actually loved me. He did ask me to marry him. But glaring differences in work ethic forced me to take a major step back and decide he was not the one I wanted to commit my life to.

Most recently was the man I felt would love me for a lifetime. I'm not exactly sure what led to our destruction. I think if he maybe loved me more than I loved him we'd still be together. And then where will I be? I'd still be unmarried and childless in New Orleans.

The man who wrote me that email offered me more than a shoulder when my last relationship busted up. I thought we had a friendship. I thought wrong.

His words shook me to my very core. I'm not writing this out of hatred or anger. He forced me to take a step back and re-examine the loves of my life. Hindsight being 20/20 and all... And I should thank him for that. Every man I've dated has turned out to be someone so completely wrong for me. Maybe if I actually learn from the past I can find someone to move with me towards the future.

*I actually received this email a few weeks ago, but have been arguing with myself as to whether or not I should actually hit the "publish" button.

The Thrill of Hope

Confession alert! I'm totally in "like" right now.

I know. It's a horrible idea. Every single solitary time I give my heart to someone else, it gets crushed. But this time it's different.

I know what you're thinking. It's ALWAYS different this time.

But I can see the signs. I know my heart is about to leave my body and belong to someone else. If even for a short while, I'm hopeful I will take that last, confident step off the cliff called love and begin the free fall.

I'm giddy. Every time my phone lights up - if it's a text or call from him my face lights up as well. Our conversations are easy and interesting. I find myself immensely attracted to him.

And we haven't even met yet.

Here comes the catch.

I must have done something awful in a past life. I probably kicked puppies for fun. I'm not sure what it was - but I'm sure the Universe is conspiring against my true and complete happiness. The little glimmer of hope who is single and single-handedly restoring my faith in men? He lives 5 hours away.

A five hour drive isn't insurmountable. Not even with gas prices at more than $3 per gallon.

I've always been a believer! Love can move mountains! All you need is love! Love is a many splendored thing!

And then, somewhere along the way, my heart gets shattered.

Make no mistake - he's treated me with the utmost care and respect. We BOTH agree the astounding list of commonalities we share is crazy. We can go from having an honest, profound conversation to flirting our asses off in three seconds flat. We laugh with each other. Besides being with my daughter, talking to him is the highlight of my day. Since he works third shift he's been a life-saver - texting with me during middle of the night feedings just to keep Zoey and I company. There's also no doubt in my mind that if we were to begin a relationship, he would love my baby girl like his very own.

Then I stop. I ask myself. Could he be the one? Could he be one of the ones?

My answer? Maybe. Probably. Gosh I hope so.

We've made a plan to meet up. He's coming to me - which is something Shreveport men won't do - and that drive is only about 45 minutes. The fact that he's willing to drive to meet me is a major plus...and a bit of a turn-on. Sometimes I feel like I've known him forever. I find myself counting down the days until I actually get to see him face-to-face.

The way I see it? There are exactly two ways our meeting can end. It can end as quickly as our whirlwind romance began. I would be shattered again.

Or, our meeting can end as a beginning. Of course, friends, I'd be lying if I told you I was pessimisstic about this initial encounter. This is me, the hopeless and somewhat hapless romantic talking!

Sure, all this build-up could make for a huge let-down.

But my money's on it's the start of something big.

And in my eternal optimism, I have to say - win or lose - the thrill of hope I get from talking to him is totally worth any pain I might have to endure down the line.

Bare Bones

After my most recent blog, I was asked - by the little glimmer of hope in my life - if I ever had a date that bad. My reply? I've had a LIFETIME of them.


And not all of my horrific dates were first dates. Sometimes, in the course of a relationship things unexpectedly take a turn for the worse.


My most recent ex and I dated for 3 years. Most of our time together was happy. However in the dashboard of my mind, I saw some blinking yellow lights - indicating perhaps our time together needed some attention. I call these yellow lights because at a red light I stop. I shut down. I break up. I fight. I do anything but give the benefit of the doubt and keep things status quo.


My ex and I had been dating for about a year and a half. We were still in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. He worked long hours during the week, and even some on the weekends , so when he told me he had a Saturday night to spend with me I was ecstatic!


But there's always a catch.


His boss had set up an evening out for some of his employees. The evening was to include dinner and then we were to all hop in a limo and go to the strip club. The evening, of course, included the employees' significant others.


I had never been to a strip club of any sort before. I was LIVID. And not about going to a strip club. I honestly pass no judgement.

Look fellas - ALL women want YOU to do the planning every once in awhile. MOST women wouldn't be happy if that plan included a strip club.


My options were to not see my (then) boyfriend for another two weeks. Or go do something I didn't want to with a crew I wasn't crazy about (for the most part - some of those guys are great people).


The choice I made, of course, was to go.


I was in a bad mood the whole day. The anger in my system stayed at a simmer as I got ready for an evening out on the town. When I arrived at his place, I told him my concerns and asked if he could get out of it. He claimed it would be rude to cancel. I told him I would just go home because I didn't want to go. He begged me to join him and promised me we wouldn't stay long and he wouldn't leave my side.


Dinner went okay. I used every acting skill at my disposal to seem like I was actually happy to be there. The crew made lots of fun of me for never going to strip club before. One of the wives assured me it was just good, clean fun and everything would be alright.

We went to one of the seedier clubs in Bossier City to start. We were able to get a table facing away from the stage and my (then) boyfriend gave me every bit of his attention. I finally loosened up a little. My heart started to melt a little. I was going to be ok.

Then, the group decided to change venues.

I had JUST gotten comfortable. I didn't want to leave. Everyone said that the next club was a lot nicer and I'd be okay there.

When we got to the next place, I found myself immediately abandoned at the table. My ex decided to mingle with everyone (men, women, clothed, definitely NOT clothed) working at the club while I got to sit alone and get angrier and angrier by the second. Finally he came up and apologized. I couldn't even look at him I was so mad.

But looking back I think I was mad at myself. I knew I had another option. I could have chosen not to go. Stood up for myself. I should have just put my fucking foot down.

Look - for those of you who know me you know I have no problems with strip clubs, strippers or nudity. The problem with the situation is I wanted to feel important in our relationship. The fact that he talked me into it - instead of validating my feelings - pissed me off. He promised me his attention and then just left me. It wouldn't be the last time he would leave me somewhere I was completely uncomfortable in our relationship.

Feeling coerced into an activity you don't enjoy is no way to be in a partnership. That's what made the date so bad - not the strippers, or the company, or the anger.
That's not to say I don't enjoy being occassionally pulled from my comfort zone by a partner. I like being challenged. But I expect being respected. Especially after "I love yous" have been exchanged.
The bare bones fact of the matter is - I just want someone to hold me dear. It doesn't mean my feelings will never get hurt, or everything will always be perfect. It just means I will always know I am loved by the man I choose to share my life with.

Hot to Trot

Ahhh, the first date. Is there anything more terrifying and electrifying? What's better than getting all dressed up with the hope that this time it won't completely suck?

Of course there are the wonderful first dates. The first dates that mark the beginning of something. The first dates where I don't drop any food on my shirt and somehow remain a lady for the duration of the evening.

And then there are the bad first dates. The first dates that go down in history as the ONLY date. Some are easily forgettable. Some are etched into your memory for a lifetime. Some simply NEED to be shared.

Let me set the scene:

It was a cool, crisp October evening a few years ago. A gentleman I met through work invited me out to dinner at one of my favorite Chinese restaurants. I decided I would meet him there.

The date started innocently enough. He was punctual, well-dressed and smelled nice. Conversation flowed pretty easily. I decided to order a spicy dish.

When our food arrived, he questioned me about picking out the little red peppers and putting them aside. I explained to him that while I like the flavor and added spice they provide - I don't want to set my mouth completely ablaze. Well, not on a first date anyway!

He then asks me to dare him to eat one. That should have been my first clue to get up and leave. After repeatedly telling him no - he did anyway.

Unfortunately for him, it wasn't the pepper that did him in. Although it was hot enough for him to down his entire glass of water - and mine too. I guess he didn't notice the copious amount of mushrooms in my dinner. Poor thing was allergic. He wound up getting sick all over the table, myself, himself, and a horrified lady at the next booth. Thank goodness he made it to the restroom before the secondary wave of explosive diarrhea set in.

Of course I never went out with him again. The signs that it was all wrong were so obvious.

Was it fate? Was it his own doing? Mine for ordering the dish? I'll never know.

I'm sure some disastrous first dates lead to meaningful relationships. But not mine. Then again, my relationships are disastrous enough. It might be prudent for me to give second chances. After all, if the first date is that bad - surely there's hope for the long run!

No Prize Ponies

A good man is hard to find. To quote my childhood (and current) best friend "You're a prize pony mulling about in a pig pen." The pig pen is my home town. Population 25,000.

The men here can be classified into three basic groups: dateable, redneck, and aw hell naw! (Please note married men looking to step out on their wives are located in the aw hell naw category.)

The problem is, in a town of 25,000 - the dateable men are a much smaller portion of the population than the other two. So, I had to expand my search from Saturday nights at the local bar. (Yes. Bar. As in the only one.) I went to the Internets. And where does any fiscally responsible person go to find love online? OkCupid. That's where.

Even though OKC is a free service, there is still a price to pay. It makes it a hell of a lot harder to weed out the crazies, hornies and totally broke-ys.

For the fellas out there reading, lemme break this shit down for you:

1. I do NOT want a picture of your penis before I've met you in real life.

2. If you get my number and take the opportunity to text me all the dirty things you're going to do to me - that will be the dirtiest thing you will have EVER done to me.

3. If your first message is "heyyy" I will NOT respond.

4. If your first message to me mentions my boobs (magnificent as they are) I will NOT respond.

5. If you have only three teeth and/or a mullet - I will NOT respond.

6. I don't mind a little kink - but good Lord PLEASE don't email asking for additional pictures of various body parts.

[Note: I had a guy ask me for a picture of my belly when I was pregnant and another ask for a picture of my feet - neither one of those are a favorite fetish of mine. Ewwww!]

7. I don't want to go out "as a family" on a first date.

8. I don't want to meet your children (even for a minute or two) on a first date. A first date is about getting to know you and if that's the only thing you've got going - guess what? I also have reproduced. But I'm more than just a mommy.

9. I don't want you to meet my daughter for six months. Period.

10. I don't want to see a picture of your penis immediately after our first date.

But the online thing hasn't been a complete waste of time. There's a little glimmer of hope out there on the horizon. And that little glimmer of hope is the only reason I haven't yet deleted my account and gone running for the hills.

There may be a prize stallion out there for me after all...

Baby on Board

So - a lot has changed in the last few months since I've posted. I'm now a single mom. I'd like to think I'm a milf - but baby bumps don't magically disappear on the due date.



Motherhood has definitely changed the way I think about my body. It's been reborn. My stomach is not just a bone of contention that used to be flat and is no longer - it is the part of my body that carried a brand new life. My breasts are the source of my daughter's food. My arms are a comfort my baby girl when she's upset.



Motherhood has also changed the way I date. Every decision I make now involves my daughter. If I want to go out - I have to get a sitter. If I want a relationship with someone, I'd better damn well know he will treat my baby like his own. And that we will both be loved fiercely. If I want to have sex with someone, I'll have to make sure I'm not on antibiotics. (Oops.)



Sometimes I wonder if I'll be a single mom forever. I always wondered if I'd ever find love. Hell I wonder if any man I ever loved truly loved me back. Now the stakes are so much higher. I need a partner now more than ever. And don't get me wrong - as a product of a single mom myself - I know I can provide the kind of life that will help my daughter grow into a strong, independent woman. But I want love. A partnership. Someone to help me carry my load in life.

I think that's all anyone can ask. Is to have someone that's there for them always. Maybe I'll find that person - but I'm sure there will be more bumps along the way - as long as there are no more baby bumps until that special person is found!