Wednesday, September 30, 2009


If you were to look at Gentleman Jack and me at the surface level, it seems apparent that we are very different.

We frequently joke that my "sandal wearing" friends would probably not hang out with his "redneck" friends. I practice yoga and study spirituality. He lifts weights and watches sports on TV. I rarely eat meat and he's a hunter with a freezer full of deer. My house is filled with estrogen while his is loaded with testosterone. I can't stand when I don't understand something and he seems to believe the adage that "ignorance is bliss." I am a planner and he takes each day one at a time.

There are also many ways in which we are alike. We parent the same. We both love the outdoors. We look at life in much the same way. We both believe in the power of now and the power of positive thinking. We both believe in a divine Source that is somehow involved with our lives. We both enjoy downtime and playfulness in life rather than being workaholics. We're very compatible sexually. We very much enjoy the same pleasures in life: beauty, nature, love. We have each learned from our past relationship mistakes and communicate with each other in a very honest, open and respectful manner.

I have to write all of this out because, in the space between our visits, my mind begins to wonder. Maybe with lack of sex, my mind actually does begin processing things clearer.

Is it OK that we are so different in many ways when there are so many other ways that we are alike? I mean, surely there are no two people who are exactly alike. Each new relationship has give and take. We learn to adjust to each other, right?

My ex-husband was opposite from me too. However, I was only 19 years old when we began dating. Both he and I were much more adaptable back then. Though I frequently joked that he should buy the house next door so we could each have our own space, we lived together very well. Thankfully, he traveled with work nearly every week.

Now?  Well.... after divorces and single parenthood, Jack and I are both pretty set in our ways.

With Martini Mom welcoming The Man to her home and Rachel blogging about it, it has my mind spinning...

Though opposites attract, can they continue down a path long term?

I do realize there is no need to worry about this now; however I do wonder if I could live with someone again. Or marry someone again.

I guess we'll see where life takes us next and cross that bridge when we get to it. We will have sort of a "co-habitating test run" in December when we take our first trip together.

Baby steps ya'll.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Mi Favorita

I have a favorite area along the Mayan Riviera that I like to visit. There are such wonderful little towns and fishing villages that, in the 20 years I've been traveling to this area, it never gets old.

With the cooler weather lately, I'm always reminded of one trip in particular I took with my now-ex husband to see the ruins at Coba. That was the trip where I was introduced to Sopa de Lima or Lime Soup.


My ex-husband and I left our condo as the sun was rising and drove the tiny road to Coba through poor shanty towns and jungle. We were both a bundle of nerves upon arrival due to our dodging of small children, foxes and other jungle animals that darted out unexpectedly along our drive.

Honestly, the Mayan ruins are nearly everywhere along this area of the Yucatan. This particular city, however, is one of the most recently uncovered. The ruins have all been overtaken by the aggressive growth of the jungle. Even to this day, most of the city of Coba is still buried or covered by the jungle.

We were directed to the ruins by several non-descript signs until we arrived in a clearing. We parked the car and followed the jungle path.

(This trip was taken in the late 1990's. Coba is now more readily known and available to tourists; therefore the area is more well-marked than it was then.)

As we walked the path, we saw parrots, wild boars and heard all of the natural sounds of the jungle. I loved it. I have always felt comfortable surrounded by trees and nature.

We walked for a while, exploring and experiencing the beauty of this place. We climbed to the top of the pyramid in the above picture. It was a spectacular view as we were above the treeline. My poor husband, who's terrified of heights, was not as thrilled with this view as I was. We walked around one of the lakes - a rare site in the area.

We visited as much of the ruins as we could before the sun reached a high point in the sky and the humidity of the jungle was bearing down on both of us. As we ventured back to the car, we noticed that the jungle was much quieter than it had been during our early morning arrival.

Ah yes, the tourists had arrived! The animals grew quiet as the busses pulled into the clearing.

Ever the research fiend, I had studied many forums and websites about the area. Someone had recommended this tiny place right outside the entrance to the ruins. The restaurant was nothing more than a lean-to really. It was called El Bocadito and today, it is a wonderful lodge and restaurant.

Back then, however, there were one or two tables under a tin roof and a friendly waiter who offered us Coca Cola in tiny glass bottles.

I love to try new things and the sopa de lima was a recommendation on many travel forums. We ordered it, despite the heat.


Sort of a combination of chicken and tortilla soup with just the right amount of spice and tanginess, this soup had us both in agreement that we would have to make it at home too.

To this day, I want that soup if I'm feeling ill or the temperature drops. My body craves it now. You think chicken soup is perfect for a cold or flu? Sopa de Lima, because of the lime, has an even better boost with Vitamin C to fight off illness.

There are too many recipes for me to pick just one. I tend to go by taste, adding more jalapeno or cilantro or more lime as I cook it.

Try it!



Emeril Lagasse's version
Rick Bayless version
New York Times Recipe
San Diego's Parobs (and picture)

Monday, September 28, 2009

I need sex

I took time this weekend to catch up on the season premier of Grey's Anatomy. If you'll recall, I became smitten with Dr. Owen Hunt, the new Army surgeon on the show, because his reaction to the character Christina and his struggles with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), reminded me SO much of what I went through with Soldier.

Funny thing. Now when I look at him, he reminds me of Gentleman Jack.



Part of his therapy was to abstain from sex. Christina couldn't think clearly about ANYTHING because she wasn't getting any.

That's how I'm feeling right now.

I need sex because I can't think or concentrate on anything!!


My Gentleman and I have the same primary love language: physical touch

Both he and I require that touch, that physical intimacy, to feel as if our "love tanks" are filled. I can usually tell, by the end of our second week apart, that we definitely need to get to some boom-chicka-bow-wow so that all will feel right in our worlds again.

Well, you can imagine how we're feeling right now after 15 days apart!!! We still have 4 more to go til we can be skin to skin again.


I'm not sure if this particular separation feels more difficult because it is the longest we've been apart since the beginning? Or is it because we've fallen madly in love with each other?

It scares me, really, because I don't want to get to a point where I'm craving more than what we already have. Neither of us can move right now. I don't want this to become difficult.

We had a conversation last night where we each expressed fears of the other one wanting to end everything because of the difficulty. Here I was thinking that he will declare this is too much and that he can't do it anymore. He was concerned about the same thing with me.

I have reminded him more than once that I've done the whole not-see-each-other-for-extended-periods-of-time thing before. *ahem*  If I can do a 15 month deployment, I can do anything!

Thankfully, we are still able to communicate our fears and hopes. We've both realized that we do want to continue this for as long as we can.


Until Friday, I will read over the wonderful memories of our touching each other. I will remember how he holds my hand to his face and tells me how much he loves me. I will remember how, in the afterglow of reconnecting, he will look into my eyes and tell me that he missed me. I will think of how he likes to wrap his arms around me, pull me into him and I feel as if I've disappeared.

And I will remember the unbelievably amazing love we make together.

I'm not sure what else I'll be able to accomplish this week.


Friday can't get here fast enough.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Competitive Spirit

I am home from my first 5K run since having my surgery almost 8 weeks ago. I knew I'd be unable to run the 3 miles but I was going to try anyway. I figured a nice slow jog would be perfect for my recovering body.

Yesterday, I rode my bike 4 miles to the yoga studio, took a gentle yoga class and rode back home. My body felt great. I knew this morning's run would be exactly what I needed.

Gem and I arrived at the race site and stood in line to pick up our bib numbers. Somehow I was mistakenly signed up for the 1 mile family fun run instead of the timed 5K.

I was ticked!

I was surprised that I was so upset. Who cares if they gave me a bib that said "1 mile" instead of "5K"? I was still going to run the 5K.

Well, apparently, I cared!

As we crossed the finish line, the announcer said, "And here we have one of our 1 milers crossing the finish line."

Grrr! Are you kidding me?! (I wanted to say.) Like it would take me this long to do 1 mile?!?!

On the drive home, I wondered... "Where is this coming from? I'm not competitive."

But it took everything I had not to walk by the announcer's booth and say, "Hey you! I'm a triathlete!"


I have never considered myself competitive.

One of the reasons I stopped singing was because I grew tired of the nonsense from other vocalists trying to outdo or other bands vying for weekend nights at the club we used to play. I simply didn't care enough to compete. I was doing it for fun.

I have said all along that these athletic events are fun. These triathlons are fun. Yes, the benefits they serve to my body are good too.

However through them all, I only felt that I was competing with myself. I wanted to better my time but I still didn't put that much thought into being competitive.

I'm continually learning more and more about myself.


Earlier last week, Gentleman Jack and I were having a conversation about my job. He remarked that I don't talk that much about it. He remembered my stumbling around a description of what I do for a living.

"What's wrong with your job?" he asked me, "You seem to be... not challenged or something."

I had to think about it. He was right. Still, I was surprised at my response.

"Jack," the tears began welling up in my eyes, "I miss being a badass."

When I was a technical guru, a systems engineer, I was held in high regard. People came to me for help. I was an expert. I had to go to specialized training. I took exams to reach certain certification levels. I made a ton of money because I was good at what I did.

I felt like a badass. I loved that feeling.

Now... I don't like talking about my job. I do a job that feels... below my intellect, below my capabilities, below my experience. However, I can't complain. It is an easy job. It is a job that pays my bills. It is a job that I can leave at work so that I can focus on my children. It is a job that is close to my house.

And there it is again. That competitive streak.


Back in January, I declared to myself, family and friends that 2009 would be The Year of T.

I hoped to do triathlons and find new love and that's what I did.

I'm already making new plans for 2010. I have a feeling that this new found competitive spirit is going to push me even further than ever before.

Picture from here

Friday, September 25, 2009

Prayer in an angelic voice

Two of my favorite things: Sarah McLachlan and the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen

Thursday, September 24, 2009

A little sunshine cleaning

Tonight I have the house to myself. I finally convinced the ex, on the one night per week that he has the kids, to take them to his place across town. He travels every week with work but occasionally, he can do this. Usually he is spending time with them at my house.

The kids are thrilled. And I have the whole weekend just for me.

I was hoping to get to the pool tonight for the first time since my surgery. I've been planning on it all week. Wouldn't you know it that today is the first day that the pool is closed at the gym? Of course. Tonight. After two months of no swimming.


So... I decided to come home and do... nothing really.

Then it occurred to me that I could rent a movie on pay-per-view. This trailer caught my eye:

I ADORED the movie Little Miss Sunshine. I loved its characters and its unpredictable storyline. I loved how I wanted to stand up and cheer at the end.

So, I nuked a baked potato for dinner, sat on my bed and watched this movie.

As a single mom, I was inspired. I giggled. I cried. Again the characters were lovable. Again the storyline took me on a journey of emotion throughout the movie.

I loved it and ironically, it left me missing my girls.

If you get a chance, you single moms and dads out there, watch this movie. See if you start believing...

"You are strong. You are powerful. You can do anything."

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Secrecy vs. Privacy

I remember the day I finally felt the straw. You know the one?  

The one that broke the camel's back?

It was a year to the day after I'd found hard evidence of my husband's affair. I was feeling especially insecure that day. I was home alone - my 4 year old and 1 year old daughters were at a friend's house.

I wanted to check, as I'd done a thousand times before, my husband's email to see if he was still communicating with her. He'd long ago changed his password and refused to give it to me. He said it only made me more suspicious and that I read into everything. Maybe he was right.

He had been trying to convince me for months that the affair was over. I paid his cell phone bill, though, and I saw the multitude of times that she was contacted each day. I had his email password and I saw that she still flirted heavily or made suggestive comments.

Every time I approached him with these things, he would deny it, have an excuse or otherwise tell me that I was "reading into things".

The trust was long gone. How on earth could we gain it back?

Surely my having access to these things would prove that it was over. Instead they only proved, to me, that it was not. So he had his cell phone bill sent to his office. He changed his password. All in the name of "saving me grief."


That day, he was traveling with a co-worker. The memory of the day a year prior, when I'd found the evidence, was eating away at my already tired brain. I'd been going insane for 12 months. I couldn't stand it any longer.

I called him and asked for his password.

"Why?" he asked, irritated that I was going there again.

"Honey I just need to know. I'm feeling very sad today and I .... just need to know that we're ok."

"Well, I'm not going to give you my password. Just... no. I'm busy right now. Can't we talk about this later?"

I was stunned. He flat out refused. My heart couldn't take it so I said it. Maybe I was testing him. Maybe I wanted to see how serious he was. I asked him....

"Do you mean to tell me that your privacy is more important than our marriage?"

When he answered "yes" I thought my entire world was torn away from me. I felt like I was having an out of body experience. I could hardly form the next sentence in my brain. I was hurt. I was angry. I was spinning like a destructive force. That's when I said, "Ok, then I can't do this anymore. I want a divorce."

His flippant response told me that he was so over it, "You do what you have to do." And he hung up the phone.


My ex-husband hid many things from me during our marriage. Silly little things like cigarettes when he tried to stop smoking. And major things like credit card bills that he owed when we initially moved in together.

Some of these things I needed to know about. Others, perhaps not.

Eventually these things were trips to strip clubs (which was ridiculous because he knew that I enjoyed strip clubs too) and money that he would withdraw to gamble on business trips to Vegas. Its not like I wouldn't find out about these things. We had a joint account and I paid all the bills. He would specifically choose not to tell me, allow me to find out on my own and then, when I would get angry, use it as justification to keep even more secrets.

The affair was one secret too many.


That was 3 1/2 years ago and it is still burned in my mind.

Now that I am in the early stages of a new relationship, I wonder...

What is private and what is secretive?

I don't doubt that Gentleman Jack would allow me to see every email that he receives. When he gets phone calls, he usually puts me on the phone or makes me say hello. He talks to everyone about me. I love that he naturally trusts me and naturally wants to earn my trust.

However in order to maintain a sense of self, each of us has things that we call "mine":

My blog: He knows about it and chooses not to read it. He finds it "weird" to read about himself in the third party. (occasionally I'll share a post.) He also wonders about these "readers" and what they think of me. Do they fantasize about me because I share so much sexually?

His Facebook page: Sort of like his own blog, if you will. He puts a lot of thought into his status updates and what is on his page. He has friends there that I know and MANY that I don't know. Is there a need for me to question the hottie who looks to me to be flirting with him on his FB page?

I know that the deceptions in my past will come back to haunt me at some point. I had difficulty trusting Soldier when he came home from Iraq too. I've had trouble believing in monogamous men.

Thankfully, I'm with someone who wants to prove to me that good men do exist.

But I so don't want to overstep my bounds...

What do you consider secrecy? And how is that different than privacy?

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


Merriam-Webster defines the term dispirited: to deprive of morale or enthusiasm

I have used this term endlessly in my A Course in Miracles study groups. My definition is this:

- A sense of disconnection from Spirit -

It is essentially the same thing, no?


I am looking forward to spending time to myself this weekend, getting organized, getting back out on the bike, doing my first post-surgery 5K and working on my vision board. I've got it all planned out.

There is one thing I didn't plan for, however....    PMS


Hormones do a number on us girls. Still, I honestly think that the degree that I'm affected by those hormones has MUCH to do with my state of mind.

Mind over matter, right?


My friend D has always told me that the only relationship I need to focus on, is my relationship with Spirit.

I find this to be true. When I feel dispirited or disconnected from Spirit, everything affects me. My thoughts are negative. Things look bad. I feel lonely and isolated. Life feels heavy and weighed down.

PMS kicks my ass.

Once I am able to turn my focus back to Spirit, once I am able to remember my connection to Source, once I recognize that I am loved, never alone and that I only need to bring my mind back to the Now and see the positive, then I am light again.

I feel inspired.


Merriam-Webster defines inspired: outstanding or brilliant in a way or to a degree suggestive of divine inspiration.

I define it as - In Spirit -

Both "dispirited" and "inspired" derive from the root word spirit, right?

When I am "in spirit", I feel the love around me. I feel as if I'm walking on air. Things just fall into place and if they don't, I am hardly affected.

When my Spirit is strong, so am I.

Then the PMS doesn't make me a moody bitch for a week. Maybe only a day or so. (I mean, come on!)


So for the next few days, I'm going to dive into my A Course in Miracles book, do a little yoga, get some good rest, breathe deeply, snuggle with my kids, have a glass of wine, meditate and quite possibly masturbate as well... all in the name of moving past my PMS funk.

Hey, it sounds like more fun than taking a Midol.


"When you equate yourself with a body you will always experience depression."

"When you are sad, know this need not be. Depression comes from a sense of being deprived of something you want and do not have. Remember that you are deprived of nothing except by your own decisions, and then decide otherwise."

"There are times when you simply have to make a decision to rise above the pain of the world. And when you do, the world has a way of changing with you. It is absolutely nothing but a reflection of your mind."
~Marianne Williamson

Monday, September 21, 2009

From "I" to "we"

Being in a new relationship, even a long distance one, is a challenge.

As a single mom, I am used to planning my time WITH my children and WITHOUT my children. Because I live alone, and because my man is 3 1/2 hours away, I can continue to do that.


Gentleman Jack and I do our best to see each other every other weekend. The next time we see each other, though, will be three weeks since our last visit. *sigh*


I'm sort of looking forward to this weekend when I'll have time to myself.

Don't get me wrong. To say I ADORE my time with Jack is an understatement. But I have spent nearly every weekend (that I would normally have to myself) with him. I feel like I need a breather, you know?

Now, I'm sure I'll have some anonymous commenters who'll say I'm complaining but I really am not. Every new change in a person's life requires some adjusting.

I enjoy my alone time. In moderation.

I enjoy my Mommy time. In moderation.

I enjoy my Gentleman time. In moderation.

I guess I just need balance.


Funny how I remember writing a post last year about the opposite effect - going from "we" to "I".

I was trying to explain to Soldier how I had been a "we" for so long. When he would ask me about my past... well... that past always included my ex-husband. He felt uncomfortable when I would use the word "we".

Now I've been an "I" for so long and I'm trying to readjust back to a "we" again.

I feel like some things have fallen by the wayside because I haven't made time for them anymore. I feel behind on household or domestic duties because I'm spending that time on the phone with Jack. I need to get back to some semblance of an athletic training schedule again.

And oh how I miss my yoga...

When I want to make plans for the time I spend with GJ, I have to get another opinion. That can be frustrating when our opinions don't mesh.

I was used to deciding on my own! Now I have to compromise?!

Ha ha! That sounds funny to even write. How many times did I want someone else's input on what to do?!

Sometimes, when I'm feeling overwhelmed or tired or just want to be alone, it should be easy to have my space, right? He lives a state away!

But there are still misunderstandings or misperceptions even when my silence has nothing to do with him.

He is trying to find balance too. As a single person, there are things that he did or I did to maintain a sense of belonging or love. Going out with friends. Hanging out with single people.

Now? Well, we're both adjusting to new feelings and new views about life, love and each other. Sometimes those adjustments have to be worked out between the two of us.

Different expectations. Different fears. Different pasts filled with different baggage.


I believe that two whole individuals coming together is much healthier than two people who lose themselves in each other.

It makes sense that, though we've fallen for each other, there are going to be some growing pains or adjustments that need to be made.

We live in different states for reasons that each understands. Will either of us move? At this point, both of us say no.

We've each been single parents for so long. Both he and I have opinions on that too... raising children and parenthood.

The adjusting, sometimes, can be quite complex.

There is much more to be discussed. More compromises to be made. More learning opportunities.

Still, I think that we will be better for each other if we are able to maintain a sense of self in this relationship. Balance is good.

I am grateful and thrilled beyond words to have someone to grow with and adjust to, wherever this takes us.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Ode to the Single Parent

Rose turned 8 years old yesterday. My first thought of the morning yesterday was...

Wow, I remember leaving the house 8 years ago today as part of a couple. Two people.... and I knew we'd be returning as 3.

Rose and Grace both adore Hannah Montana so of course we had a themed Hannah party. We even have a friend who performs as Hannah (at a local theme restaurant) who gave us a private concert in my living room.

Say what you want about Hannah/Miley Cyrus... we adore her new movie and this song. The character Miley is raised by Robbie Ray, a single father. In the movie, she performs this song with him.

It seemed especially fitting that I post this song, sort of a thank you from child to single parent. It always brings tears to my eyes.


Butterfly Fly Away
Songwriters: Glen Ballard, Alan Silvestri

You tucked me in, turned out the light
Kept me safe and sound at night
Little girls depend on things like that

Brushed my teeth and combed my hair
Had to drive me everywhere
You were always there when I looked back

You had to do it all alone
Make a living, make a home
Must have been as hard as it could be

And when I couldn't sleep at night
Scared things wouldn't turn out right
You would hold my hand and sing to me

Caterpillar in the tree
How you wonder who you'll be
Can't go far but you can always dream

Wish you may and wish you might
Don't you worry, hold on tight
I promise you there will come a day
Butterfly fly away

Butterfly fly away, butterfly fly away
Flap your wings now you can't stay
Take those dreams and make them all come true

Butterfly fly away, butterfly fly away
We've been waiting for this day
All along and knowing just what to do
Butterfly, butterfly, butterfly, butterfly fly away

Butterfly fly away
Butterfly fly away

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Orgasm... let me count the ways!

Back in December, when I pondered the orgasm, I asked the question, "Why rush it?"

I was frustrated with the lack of orgasms in my previous relationship. I was begging for more.

Sometimes, in life, you get exactly what you ask for.

Over the weekend, I experienced the longest and best orgasm of my life.

I couldn't even begin to explain it. I can't count the numerous ways that I'm able to orgasm with Gentleman Jack. Maybe because its new? Maybe because I feel so comfortable and loved with him? Maybe I'm at some sort of sexual peak?

Maybe it's just because he's that damn good.

Or maybe, just maybe, it has something to do with me.


I'm fascinated by the orgasm. I find pleasure in so many different ways but to reach the pinnacle (but hopefully there are many MANY more) of heights of orgasm this weekend... I want to know more!

When there is a need to know more, the Internet is a playground of fun.

I found this group that focuses completely on the female orgasm. They have videos on youtube (but not graphical). They claim to be able to teach a woman to have an hour-long orgasm from clitoral stimulation.


Then again, I have also experienced many orgasms that didn't involve the clitoris. And some of you have said the same.

There are so many youtube videos on g-spot orgasm that I couldn't even get to 'em all. G-spot stimulation could also lead to female ejaculation. This is yet another topic that fascinates me. I've heard female ejaculation is only possible in 30-35% of women. Still, I think I might achieve that goal at some point. I am SOOO close.

Clitoral and g-spot are the two most common ways to orgasm but let's not stop there!


This article was completely fascinating to me because he introduced "4 sexual hot spots" for women: the clitoris (C-spot), A-spot, G-spot and U-spot.

And that doesn't even cover others like anal orgasms, orgasms from breast or nipple stimulation or the myriad other ways to cum and enjoy sex!

I also haven't scratched the surface of Tantra and how opening up your vocal chords could lead to even stronger orgasms.

Woohoo! Isn't there so much more territory left to explore?


All I know is that the older I get, the more I'm learning and finding there is more to learn about sex.

At this point in life, I'm beginning to think the entire body could be an erogenous zone. You can simply orgasm from breathing! Why the hell not?!

It all begins with an orgasm in your mind, doesn't it?

For now, I will relish in the memories of this weekend and those many minutes of shuddering in out-of-breath ecstasy at the touch of my lover. The best part of it all was that he was crazy turned on to witness me experience something that powerful.

I think that one trait alone makes him the most amazing lover.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Do kids emotionally eat too?

Over the weekend, I spent a little more time with Jack's teenage son. We'll call him Carbon Copy (CC) because he is just like his dad.

I adore this kid. He cheered me on during my triathlon and was totally inspired. He's a sweet, affectionate, little gentleman who does really well in school and treats me very respectfully. Gentleman Jack has done a great job.

Since Jack was at a fishing tournament over the weekend, CC and I went to breakfast together on Saturday morning. I have noticed, from time to time, that Jack will get on to CC for eating too much. He's the typical teen boy that wants to play video games or read books. When he's bored, he eats. And that boy can eat!

So, we're at breakfast and I'm marveling about how much he can eat.

"Please don't pick on me about how much I eat," he pleads with me, "My daddy does that enough already. I'm fat. I know it. I don't care."

Now for the record, this kid is not fat AT ALL. And the only reason GJ says these things is because CC doesn't get out and do any form of exercise to balance out his food intake.

Then again, Jack has also told me that he thinks CC may be feeling a deep sense of pain about his mother. He wonders where this pain will manifest.

Food perhaps?


I worry enough with having two daughters.

I am a label reader. I try to put healthy foods in our bodies at least most of the time.

I don't pick on my girls about food. I try to get them to balance though. Did they have a vegetable with lunch? If they've eaten nothing but fruit, then no juice til tomorrow. How much water have you consumed today?

I try to teach them to eat like it took me YEARS to learn. One simple word:


I eat whatever I want but I try to maintain balance. I try to eat smaller portions. I try to exercise.

I had a horrible metabolism for many years from yo-yo dieting so I feel fortunate, at nearly 40, to have a great metabolism.

But most often, people and children eat for emotional problems. My concern also, as a parent, is that if I focus too much on food, will it become an issue later on?

I also think, though the focus is mostly on girls, that boys can emotionally eat as well. Or have problems with body issues and eating disorders. If that is true, this is the perfect case for it to happen. CC is so sensitive... I could imagine him falling into this.


"I'm not going to pick on you about how much you eat," I told CC, "You can eat whatever you want. And you ARE NOT FAT. The only reason your dad says anything to you is not because he's worried about you being fat. He's worried about you being healthy. Exercise will help you to stay strong so you don't get sick so much."

"I am not doing a triathlon," he grumbles.

"Ha! Sweetie, you do whatever you want to do that will keep you active. Your dad says you're good at all kinds of sports!"

I dropped it at that.

Later that night, CC talked my ear off about how he went to the basketball court and shot hoops for an hour. He was so proud that he would challenge himself to certain goals of how many he could shoot or from how far. He is exceptional at whatever sport he puts his mind too. Gentleman Jack was the same way.

As he followed me around the house excitedly talking, I high-fived him and encouraged him to keep it up.

GJ was glowing.

"I'm so glad he opened up to you," GJ said, "He just needs encouragement from someone other than me, I guess."

I hope the little I gave helped. I really dig that kid.

Before and After

1000 words.

Pics taken before my surgery and less than a month after my surgery. Swelling is still decreasing. I am VERY happy with the results!

Oh and I've already inspired a reader to do this for herself as well. If you are considering it and want the complete detail of what it's like, email me:

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

93 Years of Life

Today is Papa's 93rd birthday.

If you'll recall, he has been in mourning since Mema passed away. I headed back to Louisiana this past weekend to pay him a visit.

The drive to his place, in the middle of nowhere, is a very peaceful drive. Childhood memories come flooding back.

He was thrilled that both my brother and I surprised him with a visit. I wonder if he thinks that he's forgotten. He confessed to many lonely feelings. He sits in his chair and drinks his favorite, Old Charter and Diet Coke, for hours on end, sometimes passing out.

I've no problem with his drinking. As he says, "I've been doing it for 93 years and it hasn't killed me yet!"

So, I surprised him with a cupcake and a fifth of whiskey. You'd have thought it was Christmas morning.

Papa always loved to spontaneously get up and take a trip somewhere. He and Mema owned an RV for as long as I can remember. We took many a summertime road trip with them. So when he said he wanted to head to Natchitoches for their weekend meatpie festival, my brother and I didn't blink. Besides, its been at least 2 years since I've had a good meatpie.

"OK, let's go!"

I sat in the back for the nearly hour and a half drive and listened as Papa reminisced along the way. I wonder if he doesn't recognize every field and tree (and bar!) along this route of nearly deserted road. No major freeways were taken. He wanted to take the scenic route.

I tried to record some tidbits as he spoke:

"That place right there has great fried chicken. Your Mema always made us stop there."

"Look at there! Hamburgers on the hoof!" (His expression for cows. I'd completely forgotten about this and suddenly I was 8 years old again, riding in the RV as we drove to who-knows-where.)

Upon hearing that I am turning 40 years old in December: "That's a long damn time since I held you as a crying baby in my arms." (The visual of this made me smile.)

He told stories of how long he had been drinking - since childhood! How during the war, when "the damn French winos" didn't have whiskey, he and other soldiers would sneak pure alcohol from the medics. The medics figured it out and switched to wood alcohol because "it would kill you if you drank it."

"When the war was over and I was back here, I could drink a whole pint of whiskey and not even flinch after that."

He knew the whole time exactly what little tiny town we were in and exactly how far we were from Natchitoches. When we passed the Red River, he announced our arrival.

My camera phone could not capture the beauty of this city. My family has attended the annual Christmas festival since... as far back as I can remember. The city was immortalized as the location of the movie Steel Magnolias.

The antebellum homes, French, Creole and Native American influence and southern charm are only a few of the reasons my family loves this town. My grandfather sighed as we drove through the cobblestone streets along the riverfront. He said he always wanted to live there.

It was a rainy day so the festival wasn't hopping as we'd expected. We walked down the street for a bit and Papa spoke to nearly everyone we passed. One lady in particular struck his fancy and he growled at her. She didn't even notice. I had to ask,
"Papa, what was that?"

"Well, it used to work!" he bragged.

He doesn't move around very well so we thought we'd have him take a seat while I visited the vendors for some meat pies and gator on a stick. We found the perfect place.

He and my brother sat and enjoyed a beer while I ventured to the riverfront festival. Meat pies in hand, I joined them at the bar for a beer.

Papa had the perfect place to sit.

I sat next to him on the bar stool and listened to him talk to the young female bartender about his wife of 70 years. Not many can say they were with the love of their life for 70 years. I'm not sure the college student who worked at the bar could understand the magnitude of that.

As we were about to leave, I began to rub his back. He winced, as if in pain. I asked what was wrong.

"I remember your Mema rubbing my back right before she went into the hospital. You just reminded me of that."


The pain and loneliness he feels is palpable.

We only stayed in Natchitoches for less than 2 hours. We headed back to Papa's house and listened as he told stories again, making my brother and I laugh out loud along the way.

As I left that day, Papa was sitting in his old chair again, drinking an Old Charter and Diet Coke. This time, however, he was smiling.

"I really enjoyed the day," he said, "That just makes the time feel so much better."

I agree.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Don't know nothin' bout me

I'm perturbed.

I can generally follow my Four Agreements and 'not take things personally' but... grrr...

This is bugging me. Maybe if I write it all out, I may not even have to publish it. Then again, I've not hidden any emotion from this blog. This is my blog and I am learning, for the first time in my life, to allow and accept my emotions - whatever they are.

On that note...

I had a few comments on my post about envy that have stuck with me.


Anonymous said that I was projecting my "past unhappiness at being single" onto my co-workers.

My co-workers aren't single and I wasn't unhappy as a single person. I was mourning the loss of my relationship. I also wasn't unhappy as a married person. I was crazy in love with my husband for the 4 years we dated and the 13 years of my marriage. That last year sucked ass but other than that, I was a happy happy girl.

Projecting? Maybe. That's what we all do. Assuming? Yeah, most likely.

Anonymous also suggested that I was being "elitist" because of my assumption that perhaps my co-workers were envious.

Elitist. Really? In the post I asked if they were envious. And then I went on to explain how I had been envious in the past.

Another commenter (who I would like to offer kudos to because she used her name) agreed with anonymous stating that "newly coupled people tend to think what they have is the greatest thing ever and want to share every detail of their perfect bliss. and those who aren't as enthusiastic are jealous and miserable."

I'm not sure that I would go that far that I assume that a less than enthusiastic response equals jealousy and misery. Maybe the post came off like that? Others had suggested that was why my co-workers responded the way they did and I only wanted to relate to it in the post.

The other commenter also suggested that perhaps I leave it at "He's a great guy. I'm very happy." Now that is great advice. Thank you.

Still... can I ask: what is so wrong about a newly coupled person wanting to gush about their happiness?

I can understand that some of the sweetness could give you cavities so I get the playful, "I just threw up in my mouth a lil bit."

That shit is funny.

I also realize that some people would rather watch a train wreck than the sunrise.

I'm just not built that way. Call me a helpless/hopeless romantic.


There really is no need for me to defend what I've written. I am writing my feelings from my perspective.

I will not convince a soul to see things from my perspective. Maybe I can come off as preachy sometimes, but it is not my intention to do that. What many may not realize is that I'm preaching to myself. We all teach what we need to learn.

I do my best to try to see things from many perspectives so I actually do take these comments to heart. I do look at myself and wonder if I came off that way. Of course I am not perfect. I am only me. Many times, these comments will turn things around in my head and I learn something else about myself.

I'm not sure why these comments have me a little off today. Perhaps it was my dream last night. But for some reason, I've noticed something....

I remember being in my funk. And I remember that funk lasting for a very long time. And I remember thinking that I needed to put on a happy face for those of you who come here. I felt bad that I was sad.

I also remember worrying that if I was actually happy in a relationship again, that would turn many of you away as well.

I also remember thinking how ridiculous both of those thoughts were.


I didn't start this blog as a sad, lonely single woman's blog. I haven't been a sad shell of a person until a man walked into my life.

I began this blog while all sappy and in love with my soldier. This blog is a document to the roller coaster of not only being single and a mom, but also supporting a man I loved through a war in Iraq. This blog has been a journey through all that I learned about myself through that relationship and others. This blog has chronicled ALL of my UPS and DOWNS of the past 2 years.

I can't worry that if I'm too sad or too happy that some of you will tire of reading my words.

I can't worry that if I want to record an amazing sexual experience that some of you will judge me.

I can't worry that the way I raise my children may be different than how others raise theirs.

I can't worry that if I choose to do something to my physical appearance that people will scoff and roll their eyes at me.

I do worry though. I've realized, however, that many of these comments or perceived judgments are coming from those of you who are reading only one post. Or perhaps a month or 3 months of posts.


Unless you've read every single post from the nearly two years of blogging, you cannot assume anything about me. Even with that, you may not know me in real life. My history. My family. My personality.

For the first time in a very long time, I am falling in love again. I want to SHARE that. I want to detail these happy moments. I want to gush and smile and be mushy.

I have always been that way. Be it 4 months into a relationship or 1 year or 12 years.

This is MY space. If it bothers you so much, if you absolutely can't take it, then this isn't the blog for you. If you must leave a comment (and all are taken seriously) please use your name so that I can go to your blog and learn more about you.

I am fair here. I am exposing myself and yes, I realize that leaves me open to criticism. Most bloggers have opinions and some are different from my own. I get it. Help me to understand your point of view. I want to see where you're coming from.

And if you knew me, you'd know that already.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Big Red Love

Please note: For those of you that are tired of reading about the sugary sweetness that I've found in the man I've fallen for, move along. For the rest of you, enjoy!

Once upon a time, a lonely flower decided to pop up in the backyard of a big strong man. This big strong man was a father of two sons.

Now this flower didn't realize that the big strong man had a big giant heart too. The man felt much love for all living things but recently, the man's heart had grown even larger after falling in love with a girl that he called "T".

Early one morning, the man saw the lonely flower in his yard. He was bewildered but felt honored that the flower would choose his yard to show its beauty.

"What a gorgeous red flower!" he said, "I like beautiful things that just appear in my life. I will name this flower 'T', because like the flower, my beautiful T just appeared out of nowhere."

The flower liked her new name. She'd never had a real name before. She felt loved.

One day, the man was in his house while his two sons were outside playing. Something told the man that the lonely flower was in trouble. He rushed outside, only to find the flower gone!!

Gently, he asked his 4 year old where the flower was. The son proudly pulled the beautiful red flower from his bike satchel.

The man and his sons decided to do what they could to save the flower.

The flower was happy to feel such love from the man and his sons so she told the man a special secret.

"I understand why your son would pull me from the ground. A red flower is irresistible and cannot be denied! I can see that you and your sons appreciate beauty and have much love in your hearts.

If you will dig where I was growing, you will find my two sisters lying under the ground. They haven't bloomed yet. But if you replant them somewhere with lots of sun and give them the same love that you've given me, you will be rewarded with beautiful red flowers year after year!"

And so, the man grabbed his shovel and began digging.

After digging over a foot into the ground, the man found the two sisters!

The man planted the two sisters in the sunniest spot in the front of his house. Now the red flowers will bloom happily every year!

So, if you ever drive by the house of this big strong man and you see clusters of beautiful and happy red flowers, you will know:

In this house lives a man with big giant heart. This is a house where much love blooms.

Photos care of Gentleman Jack except for the last one taken from here.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Turning envy on its head

I was hanging out in the break room at work today when the CEO came to chit chat. We are known for our long drawn out metaphysical or psychological discussions. Its just what we do.

Today he asked me about Gentleman Jack.

With a twinkle in my eye (as I'm sure you can imagine), I began waxing poetic about how sweet my Gentleman is and the romantic things that he does or says. As I was speaking, another co-worker came in and began listening to me.

I was smiling and all glowy. They both responded, "He's gay."


Just because a man is sweet, loving and kind to all living things? Just because a man does nice things for me? Is their calling him "gay" the same as calling him "pussy whipped"?

Are they just picking on me?

Or are they just envious?


I know that envious feeling all too well.

I remember spending time with couples or reading about love and feeling that dull sick-to-your-stomach ache. I remember the longing. I remember the ugliness of thinking, "Must be nice!" I remember walking away from the computer screen in tears.

Its so strange because we do all want to be happy.

We do all want to glow when we talk about the love in our lives.

But that longing, that dull-ache, that feeling of "its never going to happen to me" or "I've already had my chance at love" festers like some putrid virus in us.

Do we believe so strongly in lack that we cannot even be happy when someone else is happy?!

Do we believe that the other person has taken all the love in the world and therefore there is not enough for us?


I've written here about the Law of Attraction and the power of our thoughts.

If we believe in lack, that is all we will see.

A Course in Miracles says that we choose what we wish to see and then look for witnesses to our beliefs.

Ain't it the truth?

You have a bad day and suddenly everything seems bad. Nothing goes right. You've already decided that the day is going to be bad and so that is all you see.

Same with lack. If we believe there is not enough love or good men or good women in the world, that is what you will find to be the truth. EVERY TIME.

Instead, bless those who are happy. In that blessing, you are acknowledging that love is present. Love is boundless. Love is available.

And you will attract LOVE!!


Yes, it is much easier for me to write this from a happy place. I remember when I felt those feelings of jealousy and envy, I felt ashamed. I knew they weren't good feelings. What I decided was... I had to accept myself where I was at the time in order to let those feelings go.

I'm sure that at some point, that virus will raise its head again. But that's why I blog. So I can go back to my happy places and remember that I am blessed in so many ways...

"Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep."
~Romans 12:15

"Envy is the art of counting the other fellow's blessings instead of your own."
~Harold Coffin

"Jealousy is simply and clearly the fear that you do not have value. Jealousy scans for evidence to prove the point - that others will be preferred and rewarded more than you. There is only one alternative - self-value. If you cannot love yourself, you will not believe that you are loved. You will always think it's a mistake or luck. Take your eyes off others and turn the scanner within. Find the seeds of your jealousy, clear the old voices and experiences. Put all the energy into building your personal and emotional security. Then you will be the one others envy, and you can remember the pain and reach out to them."
~Jennifer James

Wednesday, September 9, 2009


I remember when my ex-husband and I were dating, his friends would call him "PW". I had no idea what sort of nickname they had given him. He would always look half-annoyed/half-embarrassed. One day I decided to ask what the nickname meant.

"Pussy whipped."

Um.... ok.

Apparently they only called him that around me. Apparently they called him that because he was a completely different person around me.

According to Urban Dictionary, the term has quite a few connotations:

pussy whipped ~

(1) adj - situation whereupon a male is undeniably at the mercy of his high-maintenance girlfriend & answers to her every beck and call, usually followed by the re-prioritizing of girlfriend over friends, family, school, food, water, and air.

(2) adj - making decisions based on the incentive of sex.

(3) Your world blindly revolving around your woman.

Yeah. You get the idea.


Just as I blogged a few weeks ago about how some women get "dickmatized", apparently the opposite is true.

When I think about my ex-husband, I feel bad that his friends called him "PW" during our dating days. I mean, I didn't think I was a "high maintenance" girlfriend who always demanded my way. But, I guess when a man is falling in love, he does whatever he can to make his girl happy.

Or is that the reason?

We are all responsible for our actions. Sometimes those actions are driven by love. Sometimes they are driven by a different urge.

Have you noticed this?

Will a man stick around in a relationship, good or bad, as some women do, simply because they're gettin' some?

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Pawning off the kids for a sexcapade

Last week an anonymous commenter responded to my erotic post with the following:

"Most married women don't get to pawn off their kids every other week for their sexcapades, trust me."

In response, many of you questioned this commenter wondering if it was only married people without children who should be allowed to have sex.


Unfortunately, many people do believe this and to that I say, to each their own. Perhaps this isn't the blog you should be reading.

To me, the tone of that comment sounded like someone who longs for a "sexcapade" with their spouse.

If I learned anything in 13 years of marriage, it is this:

We all tend to lose ourselves in it.


I honestly feel like I spent a majority of my marriage begging for my husband to spend quality time with me or to have sex with me. I even wrote about husbands and sex after marriage earlier this year.

Marriage is tough. Frequently married couples start to act like roommates instead of spouses. Then you add in the stress of finances, household upkeep, children... it is very soon that things begin to slip by the wayside. And one of those things is sex.

I wanted to be one of those couples who had a date night every week. I wanted to be one of those couples who still flirted with each other in front of our children. I wanted to be one of those couples who, once the kids were in bed, would, at the very least, snuggle up together and talk at the end of the night. Maybe we could even spice up our sex life with every passing year.


It didn't happen, despite my intentions.

With every day without intimacy, our communication wavered. We both became complacent and then resentful and then.... we didn't know each other anymore.


So, anonymous commenter, whomever you are, I mean absolutely no disrespect when I offer you this unsolicited advice:

Find someone you can "pawn the kids off to" once a week or so. Have yourself a "sexcapade" with your spouse. Rebuild that intimacy that it sounds like you long for.

It may be the best thing you could do for yourself and your marriage.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Honesty? Honestly?!

Gentleman Jack and I are honest with each other almost to a fault.

Sometimes, the things we say are not comfortable for the other person to hear. Usually one or the other of us feels hurt or discomfort but we have to share that feeling too. There have been times that I'm crying or he's upset but we talk through it and feel closer after.

Sometimes these are VERY long, emotionally exhausting phone calls.

Sometimes, I can feel my brain saying, "This is HARD!! I don't want to do this anymore! I want to hang up now!"

But we keep on until its resolved.

I like honesty. I usually tell men I'm dating,

"You can tell me anything as long as you're honest with me."

However some of these things are NOT fun to hear. Some of these things stay in my head for a while and I have to come down from them.

If I feel that way then surely he does too, right?

Is there such a thing as too much honesty?

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Wear Sunscreen

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.


Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.


Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.


Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.


Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

~Mary Schmich, Chicago Tribune, June, 1997

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Funny People

My girlfriend Alex is hilarious.

I love being around her because I never know what she will say next. I sometimes wonder how her mind is wired that she's so quick witted.

For instance:

She and Gentleman Jack have become Facebook friends because they're both commenting on my FB page. She picks on him. He picks on her. They both crack me up.

One day last week, Jack and I both put up status updates that were very ethereal. It was completely unplanned! Apparently Alex had noticed that Jack and I do this quite often. So she left the following comment on his post:

"If you were a girl...I'm certain that your periods would be in sync with T's."


My ex-husband cracks me up.

The guy can come up with one liners at the drop of a hat! And forget it, once there's alcohol involved, he could seriously get paid for where his mind goes. He makes up funny songs. He dances for everybody. The dude makes for wonderful party entertainment.

It was one of the reasons I fell for him.

When we were initially dating, one of his favorite things to do was to make up stories to see if I would believe him. I was new to the Dallas area and one of my favorite landmarks was the infamous Reunion Tower.

He actually told me an entire story about how they had trained monkeys that they used to change the light bulbs on the tower. It made perfect sense to me. I couldn't imagine any other way they could be changed.

I was convinced!

Until I met my friend Marie a few years later whose step-father was one of the designers of the tower. She clarified the story for me.

No trained monkeys. And one boyfriend who pulled one over me for two years!


One of the very first bloggers I started reading was Susan at One Woman Show. She was a single mother of two, like myself. She has the same struggles but she handled it with such humor.

It was one of the very first blog posts I read that hooked me: Scenes Not from an Italian Restaurant

I remember reading that post and thinking... YES! Humor gets us through so much!

I love funny people.

I LOVE to laugh.

I think I'm too damn serious for my own good. Sure I can make my kids laugh. I can crack up any member of my family. Occasionally I will say something that I think is pretty witty.

But I want to be more funny!

And as a blogger, I can't help but LOL when I read the following blogs:

QT Mama
Random Esquire
Manic Mariah
Barefoot Foodie
The Bloggess - (this post is pee-in-your-pants funny.)

Are there any funny bloggers that you read?

Please share!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009


Fresh out of the shower, I stood in front of the mirror in my white terry bathrobe. I let the robe fall open and looked at my damp skin underneath. A half-smile formed on my lips as I noticed that the scar from my surgery was healing very well. My stomach was taught, flat and finally the way I've wanted it to look for a very long time.

He walked in naked, his hair still disheveled from a good night's sleep. Standing behind me, he kissed my cheek and wrapped his arms around my waist. He rested his head on my shoulder and whispered a sleepy 'good morning lover' in my ear.

I liked looking at us in the mirror. I look so small wrapped up in his giant arms.

Turning me around, he kissed my forehead, cheek and mouth. His fingers grazed my skin as he gently pushed the robe from my body, letting it fall to the floor. He licked the droplets of water from my neck, shoulder, chest...

What is it about being kissed on the shoulder that feels at once respectful and charming but seductive all the same?

He aggressively gathered my breasts in his hands while looking deep into my eyes. I heard a loud breath escape his lips as his mouth covered my pert nipple.

My half-smile crept into a full grin while watching him savor my breast. I was panting and the moisture was building between my legs.

Then he lowered himself to his hands and knees in front of me.

In my craziest fantasies, I have wondered what it would have been like to be Catherine the Great. She apparently had many subservient lovers in her lifetime and would promote them to her court when she was ready to move on. Subservient, huh? Hmmm....

Here was this statuesque gift of a man knelt before me. His eyes looking up at me filled me with absolute lust. I stood in front of him, eyes wide in awe, and I felt like a queen. I felt beautiful. I felt powerful.

I felt breathless as he leaned his face closer to me and weakened me with one swift lick.

I could barely remain standing as his tongue widened to cover my flesh. My knees began to shake as he discovered the one throbbing point that would make me moan out loud.

I didn't want to close my eyes. My breath was quickening and I leaned back further on the bathroom counter. Still my eyes were locked with his. I stayed focused on how he was pleasuring me and the more I watched, the more it turned me on.

What was it that was so unique about this moment? Was it because of the new landscape of my mid-section? I couldn't help but center in on his determination to conquer me.

Though he was on all fours, I was the subservient one. I was the weak one. I was the one who was losing control.

I was the servant to his glorious talent. I was the slave to that moment.

I was the one who was struggling, gripping, clinging and melting helplessly as he worshiped my body.

Though he was on his hands and knees before me, I was the one who was left in a state of reverence... and absolute admiration.

Lovely kneeling man taken from here

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

September Challenge

Do you ever get the feeling that God or the universe is trying to tell you something?

I mentioned that The Secret changed my life 3 years ago. It also cheered Gentleman Jack when he was having a bad day last week. Back in September 2006, it seemed like something or someone was telling me to watch that movie.

When I finally did, I knew it wasn't coincidence.


One of the things I was encouraged to do then was to create a vision board. My 3 year old vision board is 99% fulfilled now. I haven't thought about it in a very long time.

When I made that vision board, I was 6 months into my separation, my house was on the market, I had a part time job, no full time job prospects and I held a LOT of anger and resentment for my situation. I was sad, lonely and fearful.

I wanted to be healthy, alive, happy and I wanted my kids to feel the same way.

I have since completed my divorce, found a full time job, sold my house, bought another one and have a friendly and healthy co-parenting relationship with my ex.

I wanted a warm comfortable home that was close to work and my kids' school. I wanted to travel and see the world. I wanted a job where I enjoyed myself and could focus on my children. I wanted to be more athletic and be in a relationship with an athletic, loving, kind-hearted and giving man.

I'd even described what I wanted in a job and a house down to the detail and accomplished it!!


Lately I've been getting another message over and over again from several different sources.

It is time to create another vision board.

When I think about it, I don't feel much aim or concentrated effort towards a goal of any kind. I actually feel like I am wandering aimlessly. Perhaps that is why I've been able to focus on my triathlons. Those athletic activities are the only goal I've had for a while.

I am a goal-oriented person. I know me. I will make it happen and if I can't make it happen, I generally have faith that it will happen for me.

So... I will search through my magazines for words, pictures, dreams and other goals that I'd like to aim for.

I will cut them out and glue them on a poster board that I will hang in my office.

I will focus and visualize those things.

I will be grateful, knowing that they are mine.

I know it is possible because I have done this before. I believe in the infinite abundance in my life.

And when that vision board is fulfilled, I'll create another one.

How about you? Can I challenge you to do the same? Do you believe that your dreams will come true?

What are you putting on your vision board?

Pics of vision boards from here and here and here.