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.