Sex, The Single Girl And The World's Largest Adult Site...

Yes, I am an adult site drop-out.

How did this happen? Wait, which part? Well, first, quiet down, it wasn't always a sex site. Then it was. I was there for both personality shifts.

So maybe I was more of an accidental sex site drop in before I was a drop out. We'll work through that later.

Now, since I live in a city that should be a mecca for dating (and isn't), I have learned quite a few things about dating, sex sites and the adult male species. Namely:

Men love attention. Yes, it is true. It is not always sexual attention that they love. Sometimes, they just want to goof off for a few hours telling you stories. True. Stop laughing.

The men on Match, E-harmony, Plenty of Fish, AFF, Ashley Madison, OK Cupid and Boyswanttomeetgirls.com are all the same.

No, not that they are similar in personalities. They are the same men. Ask any of them. The honest ones will tell you that they are on multiple sites. No, it does not matter if they are married or single. They are branching out, okay?

Don't be a hater.

Men, for the most part, do not seem to have a lot of like-minded male friends after they get married. How does this happen? I’ve got a thesis proposal to submit to Smarty about this.

You'll see women who have friends from childhood. Ask most men who their friends are - the ones they really share deep things with - and they will point to a woman.

This is fine, okay? I'm not saying it isn't. But men...you need male friends and you need to be honest with them. Just letting you know. It just may well extend your lives.

No one...repeat after me...no one wakes up and says: Today I will have an affair.

That is not what these sites are for in the beginning. Just an FYI for you.

Yes, affairs happen, but it is not as simple as most people seem to want to believe. It is not that your husband sucks. Or that you suck. Sorry.

I know that hurts the most. It’s easier to say someone was awful. Well, I’ve now seen it all and even done a lot of it. It’s just not as black or white as we all make it out to be.

A million stories exist out there. Each of us only has our own to tell. Yet, far too often, these sites become places where everyone wants to tell any story but the one they know best.

That’s why I am here. To tell you mine. Why? Well, it isn’t so special and that alone makes it unique.

So yes, I am an adult site drop out. And I am not in any way embarrassed by this. I grew up a lot ‘over there’ and I wouldn’t undo any of it for any reason.

I Will Not Forsake The Colors That You Bring...

I'm just trying to find
A decent melody
A song that I can sing
In my own company

...Stuck In A Moment; U2

I have been thinking a lot about the idea of passion... How does one define something so vague, so fluid, so too-often out of reach?

Far too often, we find it when we are either least expecting it or when we can least really understand how it will change our lives. But that is the thing, without it, what do our lives really mean?

I love the idea of passion. To be swept away by a feeling. To want to jump, heart first into something. That's what life is about, right? Leaping. To find the beauty in something that perhaps no one else sees.

Faith.

To be honest, I am not thinking specifically about the passion associated with love or lust, but also the passion we find for things like our careers or destinations or our friends and families.

I find that many people hold just a little bit of themselves back and with that hedging comes, I honestly believe this, an inability to truly leap.

Now, the truth is, I am guilty of this. Yes, I can say it until I am blue in the face, but last night I was reminded of the hedging that I do with people. Even when I simply want to act, I don't always.

It isn't for any other reason than I don't want to impose.

No, that isn't true. Not really. You see, I believe everyone deserves the leap. No one should live a life of grey. There is too much color out there for us to sit in a box and wait for the lid to close on us one day.

But to find that color, that passion, takes trust. Trust that if one day you are without it, that you will be okay. Trust that you deserve it. Trust that it does, indeed, exist. Trust that if you lose it, you will be okay.

To trust in passion.

How wonderfully poetic. To trust in something you can not see.

That's what I want. I remember being in Paris and thinking: I want to feel like this forever. Then I came home and life started to intrude just a little too often and I had to remind myself that I'm capable of passion and color and leaping.

So, to any of you out there who have heard me say you need to find your passion. You deserve it. Next time, call my bluff because so do I.

Besides, this 'awesome search' ain't gonna start itself.

And What It All Comes Down To Is That Everything's Just Fine...

Fine, Fine...
.....A. Morrisette.

I love angst. No, not for myself. Not really.

I don't think I do angst very well. But it does come in handy for those creative types who can take a feeling or a word or a feeling and who can turn that into something with which we can all identify.

Angst can be a good motivator for change.

While I sat here last week wondering what was next on my 'to do' list, I harassed one of my friends who was supposed to be focused on his conference call. DF is funny. He and I have been discussing 'bitter'. He says I am not a bitter person and he is totally right. Then he said that I put the happiness of others ahead of my own. He's right about that, too.

Perhaps he should be less right and focus on getting that new treadmill in his office so he can take walks for both of us. :)

But in reality, for the right people in my life, I will stop everything I'm doing to make sure they are alright. That's what a friend or a lover or a parent does when they care about someone. Right?

Now, the sad fact of the matter is that I have been wanting to write about so much that I can't choose a starting point. I've got a little book filed with notes and each one is like a little lighbulb! YES! perfect blog title. Then. Nothing.

Then it hit me. I am tired of people telling me how awesome I am. Yeah, that's right.

I am tired of hearing it. Sometimes, I feel it's a sort of cop out. Or maybe it feels more like a question. You're so awesome, but.

But how come you haven't. Won't. Don't. Can't. Whatever. You're awesome.

Friday night was interesting. A very good friend of mine came over for pizza and basketball and we discussed our past year. A lot has changed for us and we're on this new kick of feeling really good. Well, that is until I was reminded that I'm not 'dating like a normal girl'. What does that mean, exactly?

It should be enough that I am surrounded by lots of friends, no? That counts as far as I am concerned.

Okay, maybe I don't date in a way that would make it easy to bring some of my friends home to mom. But hey, remember, my mom passed away a few years ago and I really don't think she would be upset at any of my choices. Well, aside from the fact that we weren't close, she also managed to trust my decision making skills more than anyone else's in her life.

So, yeah, I don't date 'like a normal' girl. I date like this girl.

And that's why when it comes down to it, everything's gonna be just fine, fine, fine.

There Is No Grief...

Like the grief that does not speak.
.....Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I am probably one of the world's most shameful Catholics.

It isn't on purpose by any means. I just believe that God really does love all of us, regardless of our views on sexuality, pregnancy and multi- faith beliefs. I know...crazy talk.

That doesn't mean that I don't look forward to Lent.

The chance to get things right. To have a renewal. To learn about yourself. These are just some of the reasons I look forward to this time of year. More than any other Christian holiday, Lent reminds me to stop and focus on who I want to be, not who I have been.

When I was a child, I would give up things like chocolate or gum.

A few years ago I decided to give up intangible things. Well, maybe they aren't truly intangible. Can a change have no form? Maybe, but it still offers intrinsic value, right?

Last year I decided to give up anger for Lent. It was harder than you might imagine. I had to let go of things that upset me and there were times when I forgot that I was supposed to be releasing instead of holding things inside. But, at the end of the process, I did feel a lot less angry. I especially felt less angry about things for which I had no answers. I started speaking just a bit more freely.

That's the things about holding things inside. Once you get used to doing it, you lose a bit of your voice - of yourself.

How sad, right?

This year I am giving up grief. Sure, I wander around smiling. A lot. And laughing. But there are things that have made me sad and once sadness sets in, it can lead to grief. No, it's not always about a physical death. Sometimes an emotional one can be just as hard. If not harder.

And of course, grief holds us back from where we need to be, right?

Right. So that's why I need to learn to let it go.

What I felt while traveling this past January really feels like a sea-change in my life and I just really want it to be who I am always. Not just a few weeks out of the year.

So...40 days of getting rid of a new tangible intangible.

This could be the start of a whole new trend. Or not.

Happiness Is...

Anyone and anything that's loved by you.
.....Charlie Brown

I remembered this morning that my new blog was supposed to have a focus.

Of course, that seems like a lot of pressure. I mean, who is to say what focus looks like these days, right?

I was just talking to a friend and I asked him when he had his first kiss. He said, 13. I said: Oh, now I feel sort of slutty. Thanks, DF. :)

My first kiss took place on a really chilly (by San Diego standards) May day. I was 5 and so was J.

We were best, best, best, friends. I mean, like totally best friends. We did everything together. We went trick or treating together and we played in the dirt together and we caught frogs near the local swimming pool together. His mom would make us peanut butter cookies every Saturday morning while we watched cartoons.

Our moms were best friends and we all lived in the same apartment complex. In fact, J lived right across the courtyard from me so we would wake up every morning and run to the window to yell out the plans for our day.

Those plans usually included: Playing outside until the streetlights came on. Very rough schedule. Good times.

On the morning of my first-ever kiss, J and I were getting ready to see THE movie of the decade. Or our 5 short years. Star Wars had just opened and we were probably really annoying with our excitement. I don't remember the annoying part. I just remember knowing that we were about to see something fantastic.

On the way to the car, J stopped me and handed me a piece of candy for the ride. Then he kissed me. Our moms were watching this and asked us to do it again because they wanted a pic. So, 33 years later, I still have that pic of J and I and our first kiss.

It was magical. I mean, it included everything a girl could ask for, right? Candy, a movie to end all movies and her best friend.

Who wouldn't want to remember such a perfect first kiss, right?

J and I check in once a year and we talk about what we've done for the year. He's such a great guy and has a really fantastic family. Of course, he thinks I have this great life here in NYC. I swear those San Diegans need to get out more.

Kidding.

Yeah, That Raven Had It Right...Nevermore, Indeed.

I was picking up A last night and she was telling me about her night.

She hadn't seen some of these friends since last August.

Lots to talk about. Most of A's friends are like my own kids. They call me mom. I used to think it odd when her friends would add me to their facebook profiles, until 2 years ago when I was alone on my birthday. Every single one of them texted or called to say: Happy Birthday, mom. Yeah. Not one forgot.

Many of these kids have, at some point, lived with us. I know all of their parents and I trust A with each one of them.

Trust is big for me. I take so long to build it that I hate to have it broken.

I told A about my new home here and she read the recent posts. She's more of a fan-fiction writer, but she likes to see how I say things as opposed to what I say.

She asked me about Red's trip. And we talked about Smarty and GG meeting R. She thought that meant I really like these ladies. I do. A knows that she and R are the last 2 people I have others meet if I can help it.

A thought I should explain why. I thought not. Then I got a text last night that made me think it's just sometimes easier to ignore things until you can't.

When I was 6, my mom and step-dad divorced. I loved B more than the moon or Mickey Mouse or Shaun Cassidy. With him in my life, I had a total feeling of being loved and protected. Having spent the first 3 years with my grandparents, my mom was a stranger to me. But B always made me feel like I mattered.

I remember sitting on his lap on the last day my mom and I were going to be in Lafayette. I was crying and asked B not to leave. I can remember being ‘that’ kid. You know the one. The one who says they will be the best kid ever if their parents would just stay together. B looked at me and said: I never really loved you; I was just staying close to you because of your mom.

Six-year old me hopped off of his lap, went to finish packing my toys and never told anyone what he said. I didn’t say good bye to him, I don’t even remember actually crying. I just sort of dealt. When you had a mom like mine that was the best way. Four years later when my uncle died, B called the house to offer his condolences to my mom. He called twice and each time I hung up the phone as soon as I recognized it was him.

On the third try, my mom answered. She and B talked for hours that day and I went outside to play. When I got home my mom asked me why I didn’t want to talk to him and I refused to tell her. Then my grandmother called and asked the same question. I finally spilled and let it out. They both called B and he drove to San Diego from Lafayette to apologize.

By that time I guess I had decided it couldn’t matter. I could trust myself and I could trust my grandparents.

And that is why, all of these years later I hold A and R up as the ultimate test of what I think of someone. If you meet them or I tell you to check them out on FB or listen to something they’ve done, you are in. Probably forever. Sometimes it seems like there is no rhyme or reason, but there is. It’s just a feeling.

Last night A told me that I should just say it and be clear about why I am like this: I know that I will never let her down so I protect her from anyone who might.

See what a text from someone who says they love you will get you to thinking about when all you want to do is eat ice cream?

"These Bitches Are Not My Friends"...

Odd title for a posting on "International Women's Day", right?

Well, not really.

Last night someone asked me to be really, really honest about why I am a sex-site drop out (note to self: title of next post is in the bag).

I hedged. I hemmed. I deflected. I lied.

Then I said:

Those people were not my friends.

Let me clarify:

Many were. No, many are. They are my friends. My family. The people I talk to daily if not weekly.

I love them all, which means I love many of you because many of you now watching came from 'there'.

You are a witty, intelligent bunch and I have learned so much from you. Thanks.

But you know me too well.

The truth is that I should have left that site when I fell in love with Chato. I didn't. Did that play a role in our 'where we are now' story? No, it did not.

I stayed because I had so much I thought I needed to say. In all honesty, I'm often so vague that most people probably didn't even know what I was talking about half the time.

But life was good. My blog supplemented me in many ways. Between love, work and regular old life, I was happy. Fulfilled.

Then Chato and I had the 'great Austin trip of 2010' and I was thrown for a loop. I had no fucking idea what to do next. I cried. I didn't eat. I doubted myself. What the hell was wrong with me? I didn't even know. I just knew that I wanted to write through it.

I tried my hand at dating and came away thinking perhaps I sort of suck at it on some level. But no worries, I still blogged through it. I just didn't name names. Maybe the truth was that I wasn't ready. My heart couldn't be in it. How could it, you know?

And then all hell broke out.

Everywhere I went, people told ME who I was seeing. How did they know? I'll tell you. One person. One person kept telling people everything I was up to, based on what she 'thought' was going on. It's like having a stalker, but better. Was she sharing the news because she cared about me? Nah, lol. If you ask her on a good day she will tell you she can't stand me.

Now, a stalker has no idea what you're really doing. A 'better than' thinks she's got you one-upped.

Cue the eye rolls.

One day, right after Paris, I called my friend and said: Enough. No Mas. I don't want to do this anymore. This blogging thing. I will go to Vegas. Then I never want to see most of those people again. Why? They are not our friends. Or science projects. They don't care if I am happy or sad. Working or not. Keeping to my training schedule or sitting on my couch. They care about silly things like 'top blogger' and who is sleeping with who this week.

They just don't care about anything but themselves. I don't think those things are important.

And then I felt great. Like the sun was all happy to see me again. And I told Red and Smarty and a few others and then I came here. And I designed my space and I sent out notes saying: Come join me if you wanna.

And then I said: I will no longer write things that sound vague. I will write what I want to because I deserve this after years of holding onto feelings because everyone else might be hurt or upset or not understand.

Yeah, that's right. I deserve this freedom to hang out with my friends (you) and say what I feel.

How else can I write about this 'awesome' search? Huh? How? that's right. I can't.

I don't even know if it has been, or will be, awesome. Hell, I don't even think there is a search going on. If there is, it's for what to wear to Yoga tonight.

But either way. I like my new home. Stick around while I decorate, ok?