I want to be a man on the holidays!

Another holiday is upon us, Happy Thanksgiving!  Which reminds me, I have a bone to pick with half the population.

Men.

In this day and age of sexual equality, and two-income households, how come the MEN aren’t expected to go to work, clean the house, prepare the feast, and then do all the clean-up?

Hell no they don’t, they eat, drink beer, and then lay on the couch and watch football.

couch1

And how come single woman are expected to do all of the above, but single men just show up somewhere empty-handed?  Ok maybe they bring a 12 pack of their favorite beer.

kitchen1

This just frosts my ass.  But women perpetuate it, by letting men get away with it.

couch2

I used to go ballistic inside at company Christmas parties, where the woman all were expected to bring in all kinds of food, and the men brought nothing, or were assigned to buy paper plates.  Talk about unfair.

Now, before you get your undies in a bunch and cry foul, not ALL men are like this.  I have seen a few that do cook, and chip in with prep and clean-up.  They are worth their weight in gold.  Although, beware of the man who cooks and then leaves the kitchen looking like a nightmare!

kitchen2

Also, since when are children exempt from helping out?  When I was growing up, my sister and I did most of the cleaning, the dishes etc.  But it seems our generation didn’t want to treat their kids the same (like slaves, lol), and so they continue to do it all themselves, and don’t ask their kids to do much at all.  Maybe take the garbage out.  And before you get your undies in a bunch again, I’m not talking about little kids, I’m talking about maybe 10 and up.  Old enough to help out.

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Even the dang animals are lazy!

couchcat

So I guess I have a bone to pick with MORE than half the population.  Men and children, lol.  And cats.  Now, I’m not trying to be picky and bitching on Thanksgiving.  I just want EVERYONE to help out, and give your women folk a break!

But if you look like THIS….forget everything I just said!

couch4

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

P.S.  Please take this blog in the irreverent spirit in which it was intended!

Zoosk me not

zoosk1There is an online dating service that keeps appearing on my Facebook and sending me messages for matches.  Zoosk.  I’m always up for a good laugh so sometimes I peruse the website and look at the “matches” they have selected for me.  I’m not sure what criteria they are using, but we are NOT of the same mind.

Men with beards down to their waist, men with ponytails, men holding their phones up to a mirror, men with HUGE glasses, men with old dirty T shirts on, men with flannel shirts on, men holding toy poodles, men with SQUIRRELS on their shoulders, I kid you not!

Not ONE PICTURE have I seen that is 1)clear and in focus 2) the man has bathed and at a minimum combed his hair 3) the man has shaved in the last 5 or 10 ten years, 4) the man has updated his wardrobe in the last 20 years 5) the man has made ANY attempt to look attractive to a woman. 6) the man doesn’t look half drunk.

I almost want to pay the subscription fees so I can email these men and tell them how to shape up so that they might get a little action going on.  But I recently broke up with a guy who made very little attempt to make himself more attractive to me, even after we had several talks about it.  Some men just can’t be changed, and that’s fine.  Just not for me, no thank you.

Now, I am no lovey duck myself, but I do try to bath every day and put on some makeup and do up my hair and put on clean unwrinkled clothes.  I try to put my best foot forward, as much as possible.  These guys put zero effort into posting a decent picture on a website to try and get a date.

Well, I guess it’s good for a laugh.  And I’m really trying hard not to be mean and make fun of people.  I just don’t understand it.  Many people meet online and get married and live happily ever after.  I think you get what you pay for, and Zoosk may fall at the bottom of the sites as far as I’m concerned.  But, I’m not looking, and I’m not paying, so I guess I don’t care!

She – Don’t Open That Door!

drinking

After Door #4, she was having a great time, enjoying the single life. She was out with friends all the time. One Friday afternoon, she went to the racetrack with her girlfriend, and they went out for Happy Hour drinks and appetizers afterwards. It was a beautiful spring day, and the bar was crowded with TGIFers glad to be out of work having a cocktail. She and her girlfriend were having a great time mingling with all sorts of new, fun people.

And then she saw him from across the room. Tall. Dark. Handsome. Their eyes locked, and she felt their magnetic pull and synapses sparking with energy. They gravitated to each other, and when he touched her arm, she shivered in anticipation. She doesn’t remember much of anything that was said the next few hours. It went by so fast. They sat with hands clasped and heads close, just talking. And talking. It was magic. It was perfect. Just when she was not looking for love, it came and hit her like a wrecking ball. She could see Door #5, and it looked perfect. It was FINALLY her time!

They both were smitten. Severely smitten. It was fate.  It was serendipity.  It was all that sappy stuff.  They talked of long-term plans. She felt as though she had known him forever. They talked of their families. And then….wait for it….BOOM. The shoe dropped. He asked her about her last name. She said it was her married name. He said, wow, what a small world, my sister married someone with the same last name! And there it was. The punch in the gut. A connection of the worst sort. His sister and her ex. How could the world be so cruel?

She stood up quickly, as tears burst from her eyes. She flung open Door #5 and started to run out. He caught her and said no, no, no, it will all work out, we can do this! It’s only family. We don’t have to see them, we can live our own lives, I can’t lose you! She looked at him sadly, with tears streaming down my cheeks, and said it would never work. He said please, we can just date for a while and see what happens. She said no, I already love you, it would be too hard to give you up. And I would indeed have to give you up. You are close to your family, you love your sister. I cannot take that away from you.

She went to find her girlfriend, so they could leave. He followed with her, begging and pleading with her. Her girlfriend was quite concerned, and hustled her out quickly, thinking he was stalking her or something. She cried all the way home, telling her friend the whole sad tale. Even her friend was shocked at the turn of events.

For days she was in a daze. In a fit of anger, she SLAMMED Door #5 shut behind her, and stalked away.

That Man

grey man

I want to meet THAT man.  That man who narrows your universe down to just you and him.  Who makes you not care if you interact with another human being ever again.  Just him.  That man. He is enough.  Who is on your mind 24/7.  Who you can’t wait to see.  Who every second apart is pure agony, and every second together is pure delight.  That man.

That man who touches your heart and soul and makes them sing.  That man who eyes are the window to his soul, and yours.  That man who makes the hair on the back of your neck tingle.  And everywhere else too.  That man who makes you feel beautiful.  Every. single. day.  That man who never speaks a mean or harsh word to you.  Ever.  That man who only touches you with love and gentleness.  That man who massages your back without being asked.

That man you have been looking for all your life.  That man who maybe you HAVE already met, but it was not the time or place.  I can think of two that I though were that man, but they turned out to be NOT that man.

I think that man is out there.  I’m not sure where, or if I will ever find him.  So if you happen to find him before me, congrats.  There may be true love out there after all.

A blind guy and…..no pie???

no pie

Some of you may remember my first encounter with my window treatment guy/blind guy.  When he came to measure, I shared some coffee, pie and stimulating conversation with him.  He did say he had a girlfriend, but we got along really well, and he stayed for hours.  So I figured he at least liked me well enough as a friend.

He came back today to install the blinds.  We spoke on the phone prior a few times, and he made me promise NOT to make a pie.  It’s a new year, and new resolutions, and pie is not on it for either of us!  So, I figured with no pie, his stay would be brief.

He was late arriving, busy day.  It was fine with me as I had a swimming class in the morning and it gave me time to do my hair and makeup, since the last time I was in sweats fresh out of the shower.  When he finally arrived, I was happy to see that I remembered him well.  He was still attractive and funny etc.  My cats were all over him like a cheap suit for awhile, and he took the time to pet them and talk in “animal voice” to them, just like I do, lol.  It was almost embarrassing how much they were pawing all over him.  I was jealous.  Of my cats, good Lord!

He only had to put up a few blinds, but of course we got to talking and 3 hours flew by.  His cell phone rang a few times and he ignored it.  (Wonder who was calling).  I was so comfortable with him.  We talked about being married, divorced, being single, dating, etc.  I just kept thinking, why can’t I meet a guy like him, who DOESN’T have a girlfriend?  I’m always a day late and a dollar short, so to speak.

As it got late, he was showing me how to use the blinds, and I was standing close to him.  I started to feel faint, lol.  He turned and looked at me and I almost thought he was going to kiss me.  He put his hands on my shoulders and said “I wish I had met you a year ago.  Where were you when I was looking for a girlfriend?”  I was so sad for a moment, cause I have such bad luck when it comes to men.  I just looked at him and shook my head, and my eyes kinda filled with tears.  Of course.  I’m a crier.  But I didn’t really cry, just a few tears dribbled out, thank God.  He hugged me and said, it will feel weird not seeing you anymore, I feel like we’ve become best friends.  I’ll miss our talks.  I babbled about if you’re in the neighborhood kind of thing, but really, what could I say?  The man has a girlfriend.  A LIVE-IN girlfriend.  I am not a home wrecking kind of girl (unlike some people I know), so I have no choice but to close the chapter on this one.  As per usual.

As he drove away I couldn’t help but feel a little mad in addition to a little sad.  Mad that I am never in the right place at the right time in the right frame of mind.  Or whatever.  Just when I think I am happy being single, I run into someone like him.

Someone I can’t have.

There are advantages…..

My blogger friend Jenni got me thinking on this subject.  Another douche bag man…she’s thinking of getting a kitten instead.

Worked for me. I don’t need no stinkin’ man I got me a baby kitty…..Ozzy.  Let’s see, what are the advantages?  Snuggles on my neck every night, doesn’t go out “catting” around, always happy to see me, and never leaves the toilet seat up for starters.  Clean as a whistle, doesn’t leave dirty clothes hanging everywhere, doesn’t take up much room in the bed.   Doesn’t have any bad habits, like smoking, drinking, or doing drugs.  Likes reality TV shows and Animal Planet.  Gives you hugs and kisses whenever you want.

Any disadvantages?  Sure, as in any relationship, you have to take the bad with the good.  Ozzy expects food and water in his bowl at regular intervals, and expects me to clean his waste every day.  Also uses me as a springboard for his nightly gymnastics.  Chews up all my strings that dangle.  Occasionally has bad breath.  Gets a little carried away with smurf bites.  Tongues a little raspy on the face.  Likes to try and trip me.  And, yes, he is an animal, not a real man, who does have an occasional use.  There are obviously a few men out there who could trump my cat, but they are just delusions illusions of reality for me, lol.

But overall?  For unconditional love?  Please, no contest.  A cuddly kitten or puppy will win every time.

Hot guys in a tool belt!

They are building a new house in my neighborhood.  Beautiful two-story, right on the lake, with a nice sand beach.  But even better is the work crew.

Hubba Hubba!  It’s been a very warm spring here, and as I drove by the other day, they were all on lunch break.  With no shirts on.  With abs of steel.  With tool belt slung low on their hips.  I almost drove into a huge pile of dirt in the parkway.  It would have been worth it, they most certainly would have come to rescue me!

Usually all that noise of hammers and saws would annoy me.  Not this time. No way.  Hammer away.  At least once a day I find some excuse to drive by and gawk.  I really wish I could stroll by, walking my dog, and strike up a conversation.  But damn my luck, both my dogs died and I can’t walk because of my back 😦

I wish I could whistle like men do when construction workers see a woman walk by.  Back in my heyday when I worked in downtown Chicago and all the women wore skirts, there was a lot of whistling going on.  I miss that, lol.  And if I could whistle, I sure would, right at them!  They would probably get a kick out of it, lol.

Sigh.  So here I sit.  All alone.  In my ivory tower.  Waiting.

My Dream Man….Pinch me, Please!

I’m divorced.  A two-time loser, actually.  I need to stay away from brown eyes and Leo’s.  Dark, smoldering bedroom eyes.  That stray.  Pfffftttt.

I do love a man with dark hair and blue eyes.  Something like this……  Hey, looks help but it’s the whole package that counts.  Someone might LOOK good on the outside, but their insides are rotten to the core.  So, in order to sweep me off my feet, here’s the scenario:

 

 

A tall, dark, handsome stranger walks into the room. He has piercing blue eyes, and dark hair with just a bit of wave to it, and just a touch too long to be conventional. His white teeth and dazzling smile seem to gleam from across the room. He is superbly dressed. Crisp white shirt, beautiful suit and tie, polished black tassel loafers. Suddenly he spots me, and glides over to me, like a beautiful sleek animal seeking his prey. He extends an immaculately manicured hand. As I lean in to touch his hand, I get a whiff of his fresh, clean, nautical scent, like he just came in from the ocean. He lingers just a moment longer, and I inhale deeply. My pupils dilate as I recognize the smell of his pheromones. They match mine. I cannot as yet raise my eyes to his. I am fascinated by the crisp black hairs on the back of his hand, which is holding mine. My own body responds…the hair on the back of my neck tingles. I finally look into his eyes, and see my own reflection staring back at me, like I am mirrored in his eyes. I am hypnotized by his deep gaze. I cannot pull away. His manly aroma surrounds me, and I am helpless. The world fades away to a blur. I feel him, I smell him. His scent is imprinted upon me forever. Without a word spoken, I am his, and he is mine.

Whew.  I think if I really ran across this man, I would faint before I could utter a sound!

 

 

Beer Goggles

Do the girls really look prettier at closing time?   Or is just pure desperation that the night is almost over and no luck yet?  Do men really want to chew their arm off in the morning?

Seems so sad, and so desperate, although I’m sure it happens more than I know.  I have had a few fuzzy nights of naughty fun back in my day, but I usually knew what the guy looked like and remembered his name! 

Times have changed though.  People aren’t really looking to date, they just want to hook up, or go on group dates somewhere fun.  It’s so complicated nowadays.  No wonder I would just rather be a friend than a date. 

Some night I want to wear those beer goggles, and see what happens.  Too bad I can’t stand the taste of beer!

 

The 10 Year Rule

   (Tongue-in-cheek)

 I am a Cougar.  I like my men young, tender, and tasty.  However, I am not a cradle robber.  I do have some scruples.  I have rules.  The most important rule is no more than ten years younger than me.  I actually started this rule back when I turned 30.  So many delectable interns on the menu!  But no fun unless they were twenty one.  They had to be at least legal to enter a bar and buy me drinks.

Being the older woman has its advantages.  Usually more experienced, can train the cubs properly.  They are so grateful afterwards.  Of course, sometimes it can backfire.  As you age, so do the cubs.  And when you reach a certain mature age like myself, the cubs can be past their prime and turn into plain old lazy lions.  No more fighting over the female.  They just want to lay around all day and nap, and then maybe go for a few sips at the local watering hole with the other old lions.

So can you imagine going 10 years OLDER?  I shudder at the thought.  If I’m going out hunting, I won’t settle for less than prime meat!