Words of Advice to the Male Population (or at least the portion that has, is, or will be sleeping with me)

1. Grow a Beard. Or don’t. But for the love of all things smooth and soft in this world, please mind your facial hair. Granted, I am partial to boys with beards (it’s my thing, don’t judge), but however you choose to upkeep your face you must heed this warning: do not come anywhere near my lady bits with any sort of shadow. I don’t care if it’s 5 o’clock or noon on the dot. Keep it away. It’s prickly. Uncomfortable. And can leave me sensitive for days. Also it puts me in an extremely difficult position of explaining to the next gentleman (with finely groomed facial hair, mind you) as to why I let a porcupine attack my vajayjay.

2. Don’t talk a big game if you don’t intend to back it up. I guarantee that I’ve never slept with a man that I haven’t properly vetted beforehand. I like to know what I’m getting myself into. Plus my particular brand of kink involves lots of dirty talk and tension building far before the main event. But that’s the thing: I don’t bullshit. And you shouldn’t either. If you tell me that you’re into hair pulling and multiple positions then I damn well expect to find your fists against my scalp and to be tossed around just a little. I’m not saying we don’t all embellish a little when recounting secret fantasies, but for goodness sake don’t talk up your sexual prowess and then lie there like a dead fish letting me do all the work. Ain’t nothing hot about that.

3. Don’t fall of the face of the Earth. I’m a big girl. A big girl that likes sex just as much as you probably do. I am under no false assumptions that sex equals love, commitment, or even a second date. But the other things I like almost as much as sex are honesty, respect, and maturity. Trust me when I say that you aren’t breaking my heart if you tell me you want to leave it at sex and that’s all. Friends with benefits, if you will. Instead, it breaks my faith in humanity and kindness if you simply fade into the ether as if what we experienced never happened at all. Own your feelings/intentions and I vow to do the same.

4. My boobs are not your playthings. I like my boobs. Probably more than you do. They are a symbol of my womanhood and my sexuality. Touching them feels good…under the right circumstances. Touching them when we’re watching tv or cooking dinner or walking through the grocery store does absolutely nothing for me. In fact, the only thing it does is de-sexualize them during moments when we could both be deriving pleasure from their awesomeness. If you grabbed my boobs twice while we were watching Saturday Night Live, I’m pretty sure the effect will have worn off by the time we hit the mattress later that night. Caveat: doing this in a flirtatious manner in the hopes that it will lead to more totally doesn’t count.

5. Yes, you have to wear a condom. Can we all just agree to agree that the old, “but i can’t feel anything while wearing a condom,” line is bullshit? You can feel it, just as well as the last guy and every other guy after you. Does it feel better without a condom? Probably. But trust me, the reason you can’t keep it up has zero to do with the latex barrier that is between us. The barrier that will protect me from any nastiness that might be harboring in your urethra. And also from adding “baby-momma” to my resume. It’s as easy as that: you either strap one on or you aren’t coming anywhere near me. Literally and figuratively. I know from experience that absolutely amazing sex can be had with a condom and if you don’t know that same thing then chances are you aren’t doing it right.

“They Slipped Briskly into an Intimacy From Which They Never Recovered.” -F.S.F.

I removed the password from my previous post. I had locked it up because I didn’t want Mr. Professor reading it just in case he somehow stumbled upon my blog. But I ended up biting the bullet and telling him pretty much everything anyway, so now he can feel free to read whatever he wants.

We are both very well aware that the other is still dating other people. In fact, we often discuss our dates and interactions with those other people. Well, if I’m being honest, we talk about how much those other people suck as dates and all the things that are wrong with them. I actually can’t recollect a time when either of us has spoken promisingly about another date that we met or sex that we had. Then last week Mr. Professor emailed me a copy of an email he sent to a girl with whom he was planning to go out with that Saturday. He sent it to me because he thought I would find its contents funny–and I did. But I also felt something else that I wasn’t expecting to feel: jealousy.

I was jealous that he would be spending his Saturday night with her and not with me. I was also jealous because I knew she had to travel a long distance and would likely be spending the night at his place–something I’ve yet to be invited to do (more on that in a minute). So, I did what I knew was the right thing to do. I sent him the following email:

I can’t believe that I’m writing this and actually going to send it….

I think I need to take a break from hanging out with you. Or you might want to take a break from hanging out with me after reading this. Either that, or you just need to talk me down from my ledge 🙂 As I’m sure you know, I can get a little over dramatic and over analytical. I’m hoping (since you are the one with all the experience in these matters) that you can tell me that it’s totally normal to feel this way given our situations. The sex is fantastic and I surely know that I would miss that. But I think that I might be enjoying your company a little too much. No man has made me laugh in some time in the same way you do. Or appreciated my body. Or cooked for me. Or engaged me in interesting conversation. Or made me feel so comfortable being me. Or called me out on my bs (even if that bs is just that I’m way too nice!) Or made me anticipate the next time I get to see him. There have been other men who have made me feel those things to a degree, but it’s always proven to be fleeting.

And I certainly haven’t spent entire Sundays with a man (since I was married) like the two that we previously spent together. And the sex…I believe it was episode 4 of that day 🙂 The one you said was “special,” felt a little too “special.” Not because I didn’t like it, I very much enjoyed the intimacy, but because I know that isn’t a kind of intimacy that you can spare. I’m a little worried that it freaked you out. I’ve never done this kind of thing before–it’s a very new experience for me. I don’t know what’s right, wrong, normal, or abnormal and I don’ want to say or do the wrong thing…something I am quite prone to doing.

I know very well what your situation is and I have so much respect for that–enough respect that I feel telling you this is the right thing to do even though it sucks for me. You girlfriend is truly a lucky woman to have a guy who is so committed to her and so obviously loves her. I totally understand your desire to continue making that relationship work and admire your drive to do so.

And as much as I have told myself that this is working as is because you and I are in very similar situations, the more I think about it, we are actually in two entirely different situations. I have a relationship that is beyond repair and is ending. You have a relationship that you are very much still invested in. When I set out on this endeavor I told myself, you, and every other guy I’ve met that I’m not emotionally in a place where I can get involved. However, as time goes on I am starting to realize that while it may be hard at times, I might actually be ready to start opening my heart up to that again. This is not to say that I want that from you, I’m not asking for anything more. I just didn’t want to deceive you.

Really, I should be thanking you for that. Over the last 6 weeks, as I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve learned that it really isn’t that difficult to do once you find someone that you connect to on levels other than and including sexually.

Wow, that was a massive brain dump. Sorry to pile it on you. Ideally, I’m hoping that everything can stay exactly as it between us right now, but that I can alleviate the guilt (not sure if that’s the right word) over feeling this way when I know exactly what your situation is. I just felt that I owed it to you and your relationship to tell you this. And I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of the “i’m breaking up with you even though we weren’t really dating” conversation.

I know this is a conversation probably best had face-to-face or via the telephone, but I wanted to throw it out there. But if you want to talk about it, then that’s fine too. I’m pretty sure you know how to reach me 🙂

xo

Normally, I wouldn’t post his actual response verbatim (because those aren’t my words to share), but I really need your advice and I don’t think my paraphrasing would do this situation any justice. So here is how he responded:

Email was just fine. I think I knew this is where you were getting. The facts that you know that about yourself, and that I felt attuned to it is just proof of why I’m attracted you, and why we enjoy one another the way we do, respectively.

For my part, I think I do need to take a break from the intensity of you. I realized that in the past few days when it dawned on me exactly how much emotional time you take up for me: I have to recover from the intimacy we share. While in fact I have no idea whether I have any future with my girlfriend, I am not ready to put myself in the position that is…. just below the ledge where you described yourself–but I think I’m there, too.

For the record, I think we’re fucking awesome for recognizing this, and I think you’re fucking awesome for saying it so clearly. And I think that awesomeness should make this easy and not hard. 

Also, I think we should still fuck… fairly hard… on a to-be-determined but perhaps-less-continuous basis.

We can talk about it later but just wanted to give these first thoughts.
xo

Then we pretty much agreed to see less of each other. But over the last week since this email exchange, we’ve texted, emailed, or talked on the phone every single day even if it was just to say hi or to say ‘I’m thinking of you.’We did hang out last night…sex, grabbed some dinner, shared an ice cream, talked, laughed, cuddled. The usual. It was great and didn’t feel awkward at all after the conversation that we had. But he did say that we shouldn’t have sex for a third time that night because it would be “crossing the intimacy line” with a smile on his face. I guess that’s the arbitrary line that he’s drawn when really, the other things we did we equally as intimate as the sex…..

Now these are the possibilities that are playing out in my head:

1. We both really like each other and are scared of what that means in regards to what we thought our futures would look like. We both love someone else and this is just a case of bad timing.

2. I’m just being dumb and setting myself up for heartbreak. He knows how I feel about him and  I know how he feels about me, yet we can’t be together and we don’t want to be apart.

3. Sometimes I think it’s just for the sex, but both of us are more than capable of meeting and having great sex with other people–so why do we continue to do this to each other?

4. Maybe it just needs more time to play out. Maybe I’m over-thinking it. Maybe it just is exactly what it appears to be–two people who like each other and have great sex. Why does it have to be more or labeled as such?

5. I’m in way over my head and I need to run get out now and never look back.

6. I’m just being paranoid. I know (from what he’s told me) that he is often brutally honest with girls who end up liking him or wanting more from him. He hasn’t even remotely drawn that line yet. And, damn, I know I’m good in bed, but I can’t possibly be that good that he would overlook those things just to continue having sex with me 🙂

I hate this….guessing game. I have never been a good mind reader.

HELP?!?!?

Dating My Ex-Husband

Yeah, you read that right.

The X and I decided that it would be a good idea to try dating one another throughout this separation. To see if there is still something here. To see if we could find that one tiny spark buried beneath the hurt, anger, and indifference. To see if dating one another would be that little puff of oxygen that could feed that spark and return it to the flame that it once was. We have both changed so much over the past 10 years, exponentially so in the last year alone. I don’t think that either of us recognizes the other any longer. But we are both clinging to hope that maybe, just maybe, the people that we have become could love each other like the people we used to be.

So on Friday we had our first date. And it really felt like a first date. I came home, showered, and got all dolled up in the hopes that I could make a good first impression. After all, they say you only have one chance to make a good first impression. I suppose that also applies to re-dating your ex-husband. I was full of nerves and my stomach fluttered like butterflies. I was overcome with anticipation of seeing him again, but for the first time. Like any other date, I wondered if we’d have chemistry? Would we have anything to talk about? But also feared that this would truly mark the end–that my first impression would be my last. That he wouldn’t like me any more than the last time we said goodbye.

We met for drinks. Him, a martini. Me, a dark and stormy. I ordered the caprese salad. He ordered the beef tar tare.

One of the things that The X didn’t like about me while we were married was my picky palate. I’m simply not adventurous when it comes to food. I decide by looking at something whether or not I want it on my taste buds. It used to drive him crazy the way I would turn my nose up at anything that looked weird to me. So when he asked if I wanted to taste his tar tare, I said yes. He spread a little bite on the bread, sprinkled it with salt, and then sprinkled it with pepper despite knowing how I despise pepper. I gave an inch and he took a mile. But I smiled and silently accepted his dare. I knew it was a test and all I had to do in order to pass was the put the tar tare sprinkled with pepper in my mouth and swallow it. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of my mind, I think I thought that this one bite of raw beef would make him like me again.

I tried to like it. I really did. But I failed when he handed me the napkin in which to spit it out.

The plan was to have a drink and a light meal, go see a play, and then grab drinks afterward. So from the bar, we headed to the theater. The play we saw was called The Last 5 Years. This is the synopsis:

The show follows two timelines:

Cathy begins at the end of her marriage and relationship with Jamie

and ends with the moment following their first date.

Jamie begins with the first date and struggles forward through the relationship.

Jamie and Cathy rarely appear or participate in each other’s scenes;

only as silent objects, props for a focus, or to provide a hint of what once was, or could have been.

The Last 5 Years asks many questions:

Why do we fall in love?

Why do relationships fail?

Why do people grow apart?

Does success for one mean loss for the other?

Suffice it to say that this might have been the worst idea I’ve ever had. Of course we both took something away, but the take-away wasn’t nearly as enlightening or progressive as I thought it might be. Instead, we were both left with an overwhelming sadness over the demise of our marriage. Could I have been more understanding? Could he have been more supportive? Or was it the other way around? One line in particular really caught my attention–“Why do I have to lose because you can’t win?” As we sat in the small, dark theater and watched a fictional version of our marriage unravel right before our eyes, that one simple line seemed to sum everything up. But, really, in the end it just makes us both losers. No one wins because we no longer have each other. It’s just so sad.

We both cried quite a bit during the play. There is one scene on their wedding day (the only point in the entire play where the actors are on the timeline) that really touched us both. We sat there, hand in hand, as we watched ourselves in the actor’s faces say ‘I do’ and share their first dance as husband and wife. The tears were unstoppable at this point so we both just let them fall. We both expected to feel was a sense of grieving for what was, but in the end we were simply left longing and wondering where it all went wrong.

By the time the play was over, I was entirely too emotional to go out in public, so we headed our separate ways. Me, to our empty home. He, to who knows where. That night I cried my eyes out over the immense sadness that riddles my heart. I sobbed for the profound loss of something that I have always held so dear. But in the end, I felt a flicker of hope that maybe this isn’t over after all. If there is still something there to feel, then maybe there is something there worth saving.

For now, however, we’ve both agreed to let him plan our second date. Perhaps something that hits a little further away from home….

 

The Case of the Dating Doldrums

I’m feeling kind of blah towards dating right now.

I told The Ginger (who isn’t really a Ginger, but his beard is red) that I just wanted to be friends. I felt kind of bad about it. He just moved here a few months ago so he doesn’t have many friends, which explains why he was texting me constantly. He’s a super sweet guy, but I don’t find him terribly attractive. That, and the sex was mediocre. It wasn’t bad at all, but it wasn’t anything to write home (or my blog) about.

Frenchie is still around, but only every now and again. He’s a Quantum Physicist at a nearby prestigious university and he travels a lot. He goes all around the country and the world conducting research and giving lectures. I actually like that he travels so much because it helps keep things casual between us which is exactly what I’m looking for at this this point in time. Thus far, he wins the competition for the best date. He took me to this restaurant that I’ve wanted to try for a long time. It didn’t disappoint and neither did he. Afterward we checked out a couple bands a bar a couple doors down. Dinner and dancing gets me every time. Plus he has a knack for selecting the perfect background music for hooking up—a talent that is much appreciated by me.

The Actor is also still around, but I haven’t seen much of him lately. I had company in town for the past week and then I got sick so I’ve been avoiding him in an effort to not spread my germs. I think we’re supposed to hang out this weekend though. He is super sweet and affectionate—both of which I like.  However, every time we make out, I walk away looking like my face got in a fight with a porcupine. Not a pleasant sensation. We haven’t had sex yet, but I will say that he is AMAZING at other things and just leave it at that.

Obviously, I haven’t heard from Mr. Teacher since our awkward run in. I’m debating texting him just to see how he is doing, but I haven’t done it yet. I figure I will give it another two weeks and then see how I feel. I don’t want to come across as desperate, but I do want him to know that I’m still interested. I’ve yet to find where those two points meet. Honestly, I’m hoping that they meet at a point that scores me another date. Maybe more?

I think I’m experiencing a case of the Dating Doldrums.

I want to go out and meet new boys, but maybe I have unrealistic expectations. I want that WOW! factor. I want the butterflies and the feeling of anticipation for the next time I see him. Right now, no one really seems to be doing that for me. I want the desire to rip his clothes off and then stay in bed for hours just talking and getting to know each other. Does that even exist or is that just something I’ve invented in my head as a direct result of watching too many romantic comedies? Am I trying too hard? Or not enough?

I was warned that this dating thing wouldn’t turn out to be everything that it’s talked up to be. And I think I’m starting to get that. Each guy that I meet has so many great qualities, but none of them have everything that I’m looking for. Is it even possible to find everything that I’m looking for in one person? I am constantly comparing these men to my ex-husband. Not so much as people, but more so the dynamic between us. I mean, at one point I thought my ex-husband was the end-all, be-all. I did marry him, after all. I over-analyze the connection that I share with these boys. Could it be more? Should it be more? Are they just duds? Maybe I’m the dud?

Or is it simply a matter of time?

Perhaps that line I should be looking for isn’t the one between desperation and genuine interest, but rather the fine one between good and good enough.

I’m leading the crusade for the refusal to settle. But maybe, in a way, we all settle in the end. If I choose to throw that possibility out the window then I am left with two possibilities:

1. I will be forever alone.
2. I will find the man that is perfect for me.

I don’t think I’m quite ready to give up on my quest for the latter option. In the meantime, I suppose I will just bask in the depths of my doldrums knowing full well that what goes down must come up. So what if that statement defies the laws of gravity. I’m the one making up the rules now.

(click photo for source)

It’s A Small World After All

I live in a pretty major city on the East Coast. There are plenty of different districts downtown and each offers its own variety of people. The drunk college kids have a place that they typically hang out, as do the middle-aged divorcees (of which I most definitely am not). I tend to spend a lot of time in a specific district frequented by older 20-something, young professional, hipster type people. There is frequently live music, local beer, and cute boys. Lots of cute boys.

The problem with this is that I have a type. A very particular type. And, well, this type of boy tends to frequent the same bars, restaurants, and venues as I do. Normally, this would be okay seeing as it would provide me with prime pickings. The issue, however, is that I am starting to run into boys that I have come to know. And it usually happens that I run into these boys when I am out with other boys. As you can imagine, this makes for a very awkward introduction.

Perhaps now you can understand when I tell you that the name of my city rhymes with Smalltimore.

Enter Mr. Teacher. Again.

A couple of weeks ago Ginger BFF and I drove down to DC to go to a concert. It was at rather large venue that I had never been to before. I feel I should mention that we were experiencing torrential downpours, flash flooding, and tornado warnings. I would have been wise if we had just stayed home, but the pull of adventure was drawing us in. Once we finally found parking, we had to walk about 10 minutes through the pouring rain in order to get to our destination. This wasn’t entirely a bad thing. For one, it was a freak 70 degree night. For two, we had brought a bottle of wine that we chugged in the car once we were parked. What?!? Beer is expensive at concert venues and I’m a single lady with a budget now!

So, basically we walked tipsy through the rain in a city where we know absolutely nothing. We finally found will call where we needed to pick up our tickets. Will call was a tiny little room with standing room for about 4. As we were waiting at the ticket window, I was vaguely aware that there was a couple in the room with us. I didn’t really look at them because I was too busy ringing out my dress and wiping off my running mascara. That’s when I heard it aloud: Mr. Teacher’s last name being called by the lady behind the glass.

Mr. Teacher does not have an ordinary last name. In fact, I’m still not even sure I know how to spell it correct. So when I heard his last name, I knew it had to either be him or someone related to him. Obviously, these thoughts are all going through my head in a matter of seconds as I slowly turn around to glance at the man with the last night of my hot teacher. Much to both my surprise and relief, it wasn’t Mr. Teacher after all. But there was no denying that the man in the room was a close relation–the resemblance was uncanny. I know Mr. Teacher has two brothers, so I just assumed it was one of them.

I decided not to say anything because, really, what would I have said?

When I got home that night, I decided to drunk text Mr. Teacher and tell him what happened. This was our very brief conversation the next morning:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(He had used him own name where I blacked it out)

Talk about a disappointing reply.

Fast forward to this past Saturday. I went out to grab a drink with a male friend that I haven’t seen in over 10 years. I walk into the bar where we were meeting and Old Friend walks up and gives me a hug. Then he tells me that he was just sitting talking with a friend of his that he ran into, Mr. Teacher. I look over and sure enough, Mr. Teacher is sitting at the bar. He waved and smiled (uuuggghh!) at me. Apparently, my instinct in this situation was to act as if I had no idea who he was. How mature is that? I just looked away and went and found our seat at the bar.

He was there the whole night–or at least for the few hours that I was also there. The entire time I was acutely aware of his presence in the room. He sat in a place that afforded him the ability to look at me, but that would make it quite awkward for me to look at him. I’m not insinuating that he chose that seat purposefully, just that I was conscious of the seating arrangement and how nervous it made me feel. But nervous in a good way. Nervous like butterflies in my stomach. I hadn’t imagined it, he is definitely as hot as I remember. And had he asked me to go home with him that night, I wouldn’t have hesitated for a moment.

But he didn’t ask. He didn’t even exchange a word with me. Or a “nice to see you” follow-up text. To be fair, I didn’t either. I think I need to wean Mr. Teacher from my thoughts. And if I’m being honest, I also need to let go of the secret hope that he’ll be interested in dating me again. Against my best intentions, it seems that I fell for him harder than I intended to. I don’t know if it’s a genuine crush or simply because he was the first guy I dated after breaking up with my husband–back at a time where I had the emotional dating capacity of a 17 year old.

Either way, the point if moot. He clearly doesn’t reciprocate my feelings or desires. So I am left here to deal with my first rejection. Well, you know, besides the major rejection I suffered when my husband left me, but that is another post for another time. Chances are that I will run into him again and I am thinking that next time it’ll be best to play it cool. I can say hi, inquire about his well-being. And maybe flirt, just a little. In the end, however, I know that it would behoove me to accept that he’s just not that into me. All the signs there. And yet, even as I type that sentence I know that I’m not ready to leave it alone yet.

I know what I should do, but then I also know myself well enough to know what I will do. I’ll keep pining over him, daydreaming of things he could do to me, the way he could touch me. The dirty texts he could send. Those lips. Those eyes. And that smile. The secrets he told me. My regret at refusing to ever have a sleepover with him.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say that my heart is broken–things never got serious enough for that. But I will say, that it might be ever-so-slightly bruised.

Act 1: Hot For Teacher

I don’t know about you, but there is something about male teachers that just really gets to me…in a good way. I have this fantasy of screwing a hot teacher in his classroom on his desk. After school hours, obviously. While that may or may not actually happen, the idea of dating a teacher is still extremely appealing to me. Maybe it’s my bleeding heart or maybe it’s just that I find a man in a tie (a man who would otherwise not be caught dead in a tie) super attractive. It could be the idea of the over-worked, over-dedicated man who is so passionate about his job and his students. Or it could be that I’m simply attracted to intelligent men and something about being an English or History teachers screams “I’m well-educated and can carry on an intellectual conversation.”

Couple that with good taste in music, beer, and books…I am sold. Bonus points go to the teacher with good taste who can also play guitar. He would have me in his bed before he could even blink his gorgeous blue eyes. If it sounds like I am talking from experience, it’s because that’s exactly where I’m talking from: the hot teacher who stole I willingly gave my dating-after-marriage-virginity.

I met Mr. Teacher during the very brief period in time in which my marriage was open. He was my highest match on OK Cupid and our first date was great. I was beyond nervous because I hadn’t been on a date in over 10 years! I turned down a dinner invitation because it just felt too likely that I would embarrass myself that way. Instead, I counter offered with meeting for drinks of the alcohol variety.

Side note: I never accept dinner on a first date. It’s always drinks or coffee. It’s mostly a personal preference, but the idea of sharing dinner with someone who I have zero chemistry with sounds simply dreadful. Drinks or coffee allows me to make a fast escape should I feel so inclined.

We met in a bar downtown and I, of course, was running a few minutes behind so he was already waiting in the bar when I walked in. To say I was floored by his level of hotness would be an understatement. I had heard so many stories of people meeting on the internet only to be disappointed that they looked nothing like their pictures had promised. Mr. Teacher far exceeded the expectations his profile pictures had set. I was instantly smitten.

We had a drink at the bar we met at and then walked over to another bar where we played  a game of pool and had another drink. Then he asked me if I would like to come back to his place where the drinks were free and we could control the music. I hesitated for a moment while the following thoughts ran through my head:

“He’s obviously inviting you back to his place because he wants to hook up–rule #1 is no hooking up on the first date.”

“What if I follow him back to his house and he murders me and cuts me up into tiny, unrecognizable pieces?”

“What if he gets the wrong impression. I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Or am I? I certainly don’t want the night to be over. He’s super hot. I’m very attracted to him. If his arms look that good with a shirt on, I can only imagine how good they look with it off.”

So, in a very uncharacteristic move, I said yes. I said yes because I wanted to find out where this night could go. I said yes because when he hugged me upon meeting, I felt a rush of attraction unlike anything I had felt in sometime. And I said yes because at that point I was so turned on that I’m pretty sure the word “no” had erased itself from my vocabulary.

Best. Decision. Ever. I followed him back to his place and we has barely popped open the tabs of our Bohs before we were making out on his couch. Eventually, we took the party upstairs to his bedroom where we hooked up, but didn’t have actual sex. To date, it was the hottest hook-up of my life. It even beats subsequent hookups with the same guy. Probably because we were essentially strangers who were equally attracted to one another in casual agreement that our interactions would never go further than hooking up. After all, you must remember that I was still married at the time, albeit in an open marriage.

I drove home that night on cloud nine. But when I got home I was quickly brought back down to Earth–The X no longer wanted an open marriage which meant that I would no longer be able to see Mr. Teacher. I awoke the following morning to a text from Mr. Teacher saying how much he has enjoyed the night before and that he couldn’t stop thinking about how much I turned him on. I replied by telling him that the feeling was mutual, but I was no longer in an open marriage and I wouldn’t be able to see him anymore. I deactivated my OKC account and that was that….

….Until The X and I decided to separate about 6 weeks later. Upon reactivating my OKC account, I received a text from Mr. Teacher inquiring about what was going on. I filled him in on the situation and we decided to meet up again. And again. And again. And a few more times after that. I quickly realized that I was kind of beginning to fall for this guy. The last thing that I wanted was to fall for ANY guy right after my marriage had just fell apart. Which, is why it’s probably for the best that he seems to have fallen off the face of the Earth. One day his OKC account had been deleted and he didn’t return the text I sent asking if everything was okay. I decided not to send a follow-up text figuring he most likely received the first one I sent and if he wanted to get in touch with me then he would.

Who knows what happened? Maybe he started dating someone. Although one would hope he’d at least have the courtesy to tell me if this is the case. Maybe he tired of dating and hooking up. I certainly hope it wasn’t something more tragic, but chances are that I’ll probably never know. And I’m okay with that. I’ve chosen to look back at those experiences and appreciate them for what they were. I benefited from having a very positive first foray back into the dating world. And I definitely benefited from his amazing body! Maybe I’ll hear from him again one day–I haven’t deleted his number just yet. Or maybe I won’t. Either way, any men I choose to sleep with in the future certainly have a lot to live up to.

But by the same token, any other man has a lot to live up to in terms of intellectual prowess, guitar playing skills, songwriting skills, sense of humor, the ability to send dirty texts, the talent to turn me on (did I already mention that???), and the capacity to keep me intrigued and wanting more. However, whoever that man turns out to be, he’ll have at least one thing going for him that Mr. Teacher doesn’t…I’ll actually know what the hell happened to him.

Besides, most people have desks these days, right?

Because I Really Like Kissing Boys

…I’ve updated my “About” page so feel free to check that out. It should hopefully give you a little better of an idea as to what this blog is all about…

So, I suppose we should start by playing a little catch-up. I’d like to give you the short version (that’s still kind of long) on where I’ve been and who what I’ve been doing since my separation became officially official about 4 months ago.

The Cast of Characters (names have been changed to protect the innocent…mostly myself)

Mr. Teacher

The Ginger

Frenchie

Married-Guy

The D-Bag

Ron Swanson

I still can’t quite believe it myself that I’ve been out on dates with 6 different guys already. I have really been looking for distractions over the last few months and it would seem that these guys fit the bill. Some of these dates were better than others. One, in particular, was terrible! But it still makes me happy that I finally have a bad first-date story. Every girl should have one of those, right? Now that I’ve informally introduced you to the various men who have been taking up my time, I plan to be back and regale you with stories from our date(s). I intend to present these stories in a series of Acts, beginning with Act 1: Hot For Teacher. Keep an eye out for that in an upcoming post.

Meanwhile, I’m exhausted. I came down with the flu about two weeks ago. It knocked me on my ass for almost a week. I don’t think I have ever been that sick in my life. Obviously, dating had to be put on hold while I recovered but now that I am happy and healthy once again, the business of my life seems to be picking up right back where I left it. In an effort to preserve both that happiness and health, I decided to lock myself in my house and hide from the world this past weekend. I told all of the boys I’m currently talking to that I was going out of town and I rested and relaxed and texted nary a one. Instead, I cleaned, did laundry, arts and crafted, ordered pizza, and drank wine. All alone. And it was amazing. So amazing, in fact, that I decided to continue the trend this week because I have so many other things going.

Tonight I plan to grocery shop and paint my nails. Tomorrow night I am going to take myself to the movies. Believe it or not, I have never actually seen a movie all by myself! All that will change tomorrow when I treat myself to Silver Linings Playbook and a giant tub of popcorn. Yet one more thing to check off my 2013: Get Growing List. On Wednesday, my girlfriends and are going to see the Lumineers in D.C. Thursday is a day-o-rest. Friday is the “Save Your Soul” dance party at a local dance hall. Who knows what Saturday will hold. And SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY is the Super Bowl. Go Ravens!!! Whew! I’m exhausted just from having typed all that, hence my self-imposed break-from-dating week. But that is totally OK because I have so many, many other awesome things going on this week–things that make me happier than dating ever could.

To end, I’ll just say WELCOME, LADIES. I’ll hope you’ll stick around and follow me on my adventure! I would love it if you would introduce yourself in the comments–but please remember that I am hoping to stay anonymous here so do not use my real name.

Love, Sexy Sadie