Archive for the ‘dating’ Category

Shit I have never been embarrassed about:

*my family – even the rednecky, loser ones.

*liking the following bands or artists: styx, journey, matchbox 20, nickleback (just like jesse), justin timberlake, tim mcgraw,  a lot of Top 40

*big hair in the 80s

*wearing black Reeboks in the 80s

*not getting my driver’s license until i was 21 – almost 22

*growing up a ‘hood rat

*painting my toenails

*having 5 cats and 2 dogs

*being a picky eater

*watching a LOT of television


*cross-stitching.  yes, i cross-stitch. so??

*believing in God, but not caring what people think, and more importantly, not caring or judging those who don’t

*never having been married

*being a liberal

*my friends

*not being a homeowner

*cussing. i cuss a lot.  a lot.

*talking to my animals and answering for them

*Duke’s mayo

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I may have written about this before, so if you’ve read this before please feel free to stop at any time.  However, I am sure it will be even more brilliant and eloquent the second time around. (and if you’re a man, you probably need a refresher)

Yes, it IS a year later, and yes, I AM still single.   I want to be wooed.  Is that bad or anti-feminist of me?  I want sweet cards and flowers.  I like having doors held for me.  It is a big turn on to be wanted and desired, right?  I mean, who wouldn’t want that??  Have a I been single too long?  Do these things now happen in real life these days?  Is what I would like only a Hollywood-induced fantasy of how romance is?  I mean, I don’t need to be swept off to Paris on someone’s private jet.  I am not unrealistic.  A sweet email, a text, a card, flowers.

Take note men:  Women still like (and want) romance.  We’re suckers for it!  The old adage “You get more flies with honey, than with vinegar” stands the test of time!    It doesn’t have to be extravagant, just thoughtful.  Find out what they like and indulge them!    This goes for you married men as much (or more) as it does for single men.

I am sure you all do thoughtful things.  Thoughtful and romantic are not synonymous.  Thoughtful will get you a hug or kiss; romantic will get you, well, you know.   PLAN a date, don’t leave it up to us.   Be original.  Hold our hand in public sometimes.   If you try, I promise, we’ll appreciate it, and we’ll love that you tried, even if you do something corny and silly, we’ll be happy.

Maybe I am wrong.  Maybe it is just me.

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Well, The Tumor is busy.  (If you don’t know about The Tumor, you need to go read this blog (https://booknurd69.wordpress.com/2007/09/16/rikki-tikki-tumor/) before proceeding, or you’ll be lost.  I have been doing some wacky things, which as we all know are NOT my fault, but the fault of The Tumor. 

One recent example was the kissing of the 24 year old. However, I am starting to think I should have worked that a little more.  I hear the older fellas may have some performance anxiety. 

I have been doing the drunk texting.  I know. I know. You’re saying, “Kim, why don’t you learn that this is a poor idea?”.  It’s not me.  Talk to The Tumor.

This summer I befriended FIVE kittens.  Like I need more kittens…I still have two of them…The Tumor is nothing if not pet friendly.

The Tumor has been affecting my ability to walk and sit.  I have hurt THE ANKLE several times over the past year.  I also fell out of my chair today and bruised my butt.  I was in a cast due to the clumsiness caused by The  Tumor.

The Tumor also apparently likes hummus and pita chips as that is what I have been craving lately.

I also believe The Tumor is to blame for my recent desire for a boyfriend. The Tumor wants me to be driven insane by fickleness, indecision, flirtation and the possibility of hot sex.  The Tumor doesn’t care if I am miserable.  It FEEDS on my misery.  After posting my original Tumor blog, The Tumor forced me to date five men at one time, two of which I really liked, the others were just sorta fun.  I am now being punished by The Tumor because since then, I have only had ONE date!! Damned Tumor.

The Tumor is also prompting me to write numerous blogs in one night, as was witnessed this past Saturday. I think The Tumor might also be to blame for the endless surveys I am compelled to complete.

There is no end to the torment of The Tumor.

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Well, last night I decided I was gonna get a little fancied up.  I took off my glasses and wore contacts, did my hair up pretty good and curly.  It must have looked good because I got lots of compliments and people kept wanting to touch it.  I even put on some make up, did the smokey eye.  I had on a nice satin and lace top, some jeans that did my juicy booty some justice.  Oh hell! I even busted out some cute heels and had my pedicured toes out. I thought I looked pretty presentable.

When I got to Hunter Gatherer last night my friends all yelled my name, clapped and hooted.  HOT DAMN!  I have decided I want to be greeted in this manner at all times! I might even look into getting a guy to walk around with a boom box with my theme song belting out (like i Kentucky Fried Movie).  I was told I looked like a hot mama.  Sally and Crystal agreed, were they lesbians, they’d fuck me.  I took this as a good sign.

We progressed to Art Bar.  More compliments and hair touching. I started on the road to drunkenness helped in large part by Rhett and Stephen and various other of my mo posse.  I was talking to Mett, and I put my eyeball on a cute boy.  I told Mett he was cute, so I started giving him the eye.  You know, the make eye contact, hold it, then look away.  Repeat as necessary.  Well, later that night (after a couple of shots with the mo posse, I decided to ask the friends who were with Cute Glasses Tattoo Boy  what his name was.  They told me it was Travis, and made sure I knew he was straight. Shortly thereafter we starting chatting.  It turns out that Travis is only 24!!  OHMYGOD. Even in my drunken haze I thought. “This boy is too young, even for you”.  We chatted some, and exchanged digits.  I gave him a peck of a kiss (no tongue, people! Get your minds out of the gutter!) He took his sister home.  In the light of sobriety, albeit of the slightly hungover variety, I realized, you can not play with this boy.  He is too shy and nice, and quite possibly a virgin. I had decided to let him know I thought I was too old for him.  Luckily, he never called!! wooohoo!

Now Jill tells me this means I have to get fancy much more often.  I contend that if I am feeling frisky ( a nice word for “horny”), and I set my eyes on someone, I can usually follow through. Sometimes it’s not worth it because I am not looking to fuck someone. That could be accomplished any night of the week.  I want to actually be dating someone if I am having sex with them.  I have been known to do otherwise, but rarely. 

And of course, I don’t want to break Webb’s heart.

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Lately I have been wanting a boyfriend.  I am not the kind of girl who always has to have a boyfriend.  I really like having a boyfriend, but I don’t NEED to have one. I never have. My sister is the opposite.  she was always dating someone.  I haven’t dated someone in about 5 years.  I miss having a man to do things with.  And I don’t mean sex, well not JUST sex.  If I wanted to have sex, I am pretty sure I could have sex. 

What I really miss is the little intimacies that come with dating someone.  I miss the looks that you give each other, and the other person knows what you’re thinking.  I miss the cuddling on the sofa on days like today.  I miss the days when you lay around in bed naked all day, napping, watching tv, making love, napping some more.  I miss the pats on the butt when you pass each other.  My ex-boyfriend Bryan always patted me on the butt as a show of affection.  Once, after we had been broken up for several months, we were hanging out with a bunch of our friends and drinking.  We were playing pool, and when I walked by he patted me on the butt.  I nearly cried because I really missed that. I told him, you lost the right to do that.  He knew that I was right. 

I miss goofy nicknames for each other.  I miss buying silly little treats for each other.  I miss cooking dinner together and watching movies.  I miss going out to bars or parties but knowing that he is keeping one eye on me to make sure I am okay or that no one is makin’ any moves.    I miss kissing. I miss skinny dipping.  I miss going camping and making love outside under the stars.  I miss having conversations with men who aren’t gay, married or like a brother.  I miss watching basketball games together. I miss going to the movies and holding hands.  I miss those moments after you’ve made love where you lay there spent and tired, but laughing and talking.  I miss going on trips and laughing and singing. Those are the things I miss the most.  Of course I miss making love with someone who knows me and loves me and cares about how the experience is going to be for both of us, not just him. 

So, please don’t offer to fuck me because I say I haven’t had sex in a year.    Know that the sex isn’t what I am missing.  (Okay, I DO miss it, but I miss other things more)  Please don’t think that just because I want a boyfriend that makes me in some way weak or pitiful.  I don’t feel pitiful. I feel like I want someone to share intimate moments with.  I feel like that’s normal.  I am not going to compromise.  I am not going to go out with someone just to have some company.  I am not going to drop my panties because I am horny, and you think you have some smooth moves.

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(Originally posted 12/06, reposted because it seems pertinent to the predicament i am in once again) 

I have been thinking about this whole crazy thing called romance.  Well, not necessarily “romance”, more like mate finding.  Here in Columbia there was a recent article on dating in your 30s and how it differs from dating in your 20s, etc.  A friend of mine and I were talking also about how now, when you start dating someone, you can’t just go about it all hedonistically.  You find yourself, whether intentionally or not, thinking about this person’s long term potential.  You think about things like how he doesn’t ever want to marry or have kids.  You might be thinking he is way too into his career to be a good family man, or on the opposite end, he is too irresponsible and doesn’t have any professional goals.  When I was in my 20s I thought, wow, he’s hot.  Or, he is funny, whatever. I didn’t care if he was a waiter or a student.  I didn’t even consider if he ever wanted to get married or have kids.  Honestly, I can say, personally, I don’t really care what someone does for a living.  I would rather the person I marry be happy with what he is doing, regardless of what it is.  Would I love for him to be loving his high-powered job that offered him freedom on nights and weekends with a hefty salary and generous vacation plan? Hell yeah!  Heck, I want that for ME! 

I know that I am not the only person who thinks about these things.  I am sure men have their own set of worries when they start dating a woman: Will she be a good mom?  Will she keep giving me blow jobs after we’re married?  Can she cook?  Does she fuck like a porn star and can still teach Sunday school? You know, the important things.

Of couse we all also have qualifications for our “lovers” and “suitors”. There are certain physical and personality  characteristics that we are attracted to or that we find repulsive.  We don’t always adhere to these strictly, not all of us.  I mean, I prefer tall dark-haired men who don’t smoke. Have a I dated shorter guys? Yes.  Have any of them had light-colored hair? Sure.  Have they smoked?  Unfortunately.  But they were great guys, and I might have missed out on something if I had passed them up.  Of course nothing came of these romantic liaisons, but they were fun while they lasted.  I did do the breaking up.  I am a “breaker upper”.  I don’t like to do it either. I am a nervous wreck and in knots. It literally takes me weeks to end a relationship.  I don’t like to break up at the holidays because that seems so mean.  Then I tell them, oh, let’s only spend $20 on each other this year.  Inevitably, they don’t listen. When I was in college, and even as far back as high school, I would like a guy, like a guy then when he’d like me back, I’d get bored and start ignoring him until he went away.  That was my MO. All my friends knew it.  “Kim, just tell that boy you don’t like him anymore.”  “You need to quit ignoring him”.  Eventualy they all figured it out.  Of course I was foolish and immature.  Now I am confident enough to say, you’re a jackass or drug addict or loser or alcoholic or whatever and i don’t want to date you anymore.

I think what would make all of this much simpler is if we had a store to go to, and we could just do a little check list of qualities we wanted in our mate.  We turn the list over to a young lady or gentleman, who checks the inventory and brings you some possible choices for your mate.. 


Miss Finney, here’s a sample of men who meet your qualifications.  Choose the one you like and you’re on your way to mate-hood.  Thanks for shoppign at Mate-Mart.

I know many of you are thinking, uh, Kim, this is called a dating service.  NO!  Not a dating service.  Once you make your choice, you two are stuck with each other.  So you better choose prudently!  Don’t go for the guy with the best smile, check out his credentials on that pamplet they gave you.  Just because she has big boobs, doesn’t mean she’s the one!  Read over her qualifications as a mother and wife in her brochure.  This system does remind me of when I was in high school, we all filled out these little questionnaires and then they ran our names through the computer and we got a printout of the top ten matches for you in the school.  Then we all ran around to see if they matched up.  Like, was I “Tom’s” number one match too?   

Maybe my perfect match is Justin or Matthew.  Okay, probably not.  But I could go in with my list and browse the aisles, Men could come in and check out the females available as well.  Of course we wouldn’t OWN our mates. Payment would merely be a finders fee for the company.  Kind of like a realtor.  “Hey, I am looking for a three bedroom colonial style home in the Shandon area”.  Great, let’s check our inventory.

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I stole this idea from Melida Register.  Her list was really good.  I think mine is okay, but her’s is better! 

These are the things  wanna do in 2008.  THEY ARE NOT RESOLUTIONS.  More like Goals or Objectives.

1.  Start working on National Board Certification

2. Buy (and ride) a new bicycle

3. Have sex (preferrably with someone I am dating, and not myself.)

4.  Buy a Blackberry

5. Buy a laptop

6. Redecorate this house

7. Read a book a week.  Starting January 1.

8. Wash my car at least once a month

9.  Go to church more often, maybe a new church

10.  See the Foo Fighters in concert

11.  Get my S.C.U.B.A. certification

12. Travel more

13.  Take a photography class

14. Take the LSAT.  I don’t want to go to law school.  I really just want to know that I can.

15.  Have more parties at my house.

16.  Drink more water

17. Vote  for the first African American President

18.  Volunteer more time to worthy causes

19.  Kiss someone at midnight on New Year’s Eve

20.  Eat more fruit

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(originally posted january 17, 2007, but I think it warrants a repost)

The Polygamy of Women.  This is something Jill and I have bandied about repeatedly throughout the years.  Men, although, they may want variety in the number of sexual partners they have, they really can be taken care of by one wife.  Women on the other hand have a much broader need for a variety of men.  Not for sex, well not for sex alone.  Women need many husbands*+ to perform many duties:

The Fixer:  This husband is in charge of fixing the broken stuff around the house.  Loose doorknob?  He’s on it.  Need a light bulb changed?  He’s your man.  The Fixer should not be confused with The Builder (See Below). The Fixer only fixes things made by other people.  He does not create.  (Disclaimer: Often The Fixer and The Builder CAN be found in the same man)

The Builder:  The Builder is the one who makes things for you and the house. He makes the lovely garden bench for the back yard.  He can whip up a set of bookshelves in a heartbeat.  If you want to lay down hardwood floors, he can get the fixer to help him.  He is not just a handy man, like The Fixer; he is a craftsman, an artist of sorts.  Often, he, The Fixer and The Decorator can work together to complete fabulous projects in the home.

The Adventurer:  This husband will go on The Amazing Race with you.  He will tak you S.C.U.B.A. diving in Belize.  You will climb mountains in Germany.    You will take a photo safari to Africa.  He will never grow up, but you will never have a dull moment.

The Chef:  I mean, if you’re going to have a harem, you HAVE to have a chef.  Remember that this husband will be cooking for all of you, so it will be a daunting task, depending upon how many husbands you decide to have.

The Decorator:  Now this husband is certainly a must. He will have your house looking fabulous.  Your furniture will be rich and beautiful, yet useful and family friendly.  Your art will reflect the collective personalities of your family.  You will only sleep on 500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.  You will have state of the art appliances for The Obsessive Compulsive Cleaner (a.k.a. Monk) to keep your house in tip top shape.

The Mechanic:  This is a favorite of all the husbands and the wife.  No one likes to pay a freakin’ mechanic!   And this husband is often a car fanatic anyway, so you’re cars will always be washed as well.

The Lover:  This man will do nothing but pleasure you.  Well, he’ll probably have a “real job”, but his main purpose in life is to bring you to the O, repeatedly.  You need to choose this one carefully, the author suggests “scouting” around until you find the one who blows your mind, then nab him if you can. You, will have sex with the other husbands as well, but this will be the one you crave daily.

The Nurturer: This is the husband who will hold your hand while you’re in labor.  He’ll make sure you have all of your favorite bath scents for your long hot soaks in your fabulous tub that The Decorator picked out for you.  On occasion, he might even keep you company while you soak and relax.  This husband will most likely be the most useful in rearing your children.  He will listen to your complaints about the other husbands and keep you confidence.  He will always remember your birthday and anniversary.  Flowers will arrive for no reason, just because.  Little gifts will appear on your pillow.  He’ll remember that you love tulips and hate roses. 

The Gardener: Although I love to plant things and prune and water my pretty flowers, I do NOT like to mow the lawn or rake.  I would actually more readily mow than rake.  Luckily, I have my allergies to blame for not doing these things.   I don’t even care about weeds in the lawn.  But The Gardener? He will be all over this!  His goals will ensure that you have the greenest lawn in the commune.  Greener and nicer than Hank Hill.   He will prune those hydrangeas and keep the red tips from getting the fungus.  He may even be hot enough to work shirtless.

The Techie:  This little techno geek will keep your stereo, computers, television, mp3 players and other gadgetry  so up to date Steve Jobs will be calling you for advice on the newest and coolest.

The Doctor: Who the hell doesn’t want a doctor in the family for free medical advice and drug samples?

The Obsessive Compulsive Cleaner:  He will clean your house all the time until it’s immaculate!  Need I elaborate further??

The Lawyer: Free legal advice.  Duh.

The Pool Boy: This is the one Jill and I have pondered the most about.  We are constantly scouting out the possibilities.  Rhett helps us, too.  And Jim.  And Sally.  This Husband needs to be young and buff.  He will walk around in a cute box cut bathing suit while he serves us fruity, frozen, liquor drinks. He must also keep my pool a sparkling clear oasis for the family, but mainly for me.

The Intellectual:  Sex isn’t everything (don’t laugh! some people really think this!) and you won’t always want to have it (Again, I have heard this is true.)  When you’re not having sex, or basking in the sun, you will need someone with whom to have an intelligent conversation.  You will want a man who can discuss politics, books, current events, and big ideas.  (WARNING: you don’t want a Mr. Know-It-All.)

The Movie Buff: Not everyone will want this husband.  Not everyone likes to go to movies.  This is interchangeable and could really be called The Favorite Past Time Husband as well.  You might like antiquing, or scrap booking.  Maybe you like to go to karaoke.  Fill in the blanks.

The Masseuse:  The Masseuse.  Who the hell wouldn’t want this?  The Masseuse will keep your back in great health.  You will be relaxed and at ease with the Masseuse.  He will always have your favorite scents burning and maybe even give you a happy ending. Or two. Or three. *Please keep in mind that you may not need all these husbands. Some of the husbands might have dual talents and thus eliminate the need for the number of men in the family.  +Feel free to marry gay men and women if that’s your thing.  Sometimes the gay man will be a wonderful husband in some of the less traditional male roles.

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(Oringially posted November, 2006.  I am reposting it because of a journal question I had for my students today about girls asking guys out. I was remined of this blog.)


 This is something I have had several conversations with different people of both genders over the past few weeks.  Dating is dead.  People just don’t seem to date anymore. 


The act of courtship and wooing has disappeared.  A lot of my friends, married and dating, are together only after having “hooked up” or slept together several times, and therefore become a couple by default. 


Dating is a lost art.  Picnics in the park.  Drive in movies.  The theater.  Basketball games.  Hockey games.  Walking in the park.  Coffee.  Drinks (no, not getting drunk in a bar). Dessert.  Cooking dinner for each other.  It seems now that dating comes AFTER sex and the hook up.  We do these things once we are already intimately involved with someone.  We aren’t dating in the same way I guess.  We are still dating, just in a backwards manner.


I have several theories on why dating is dead.  One is that the sexual freedom experienced by both sexes has altered our methods of courtship.  No longer does the man feel it is necessary to take a woman to dinner, or the movies.  Heaven forbid he come up with something more creative.  I am sure florists and jewelers have taken a hit, except for the guilt flowers and jewelry.  I can’t tell you the last time I went on a genuine date.  I think it was with The Canadian.  We went for ice cream.  I hate ice cream, but I got a smoothie.  That was about two years ago. 


Theory Two.  Women are financially and socially independent these days.  It’s not like it was in the 50s when we HAD to rely on men for dates because we didn’t have our own money, or it was improper for us to go into bars and clubs unaccompanied.  We have our own independence and money so we can go where we please and buy what we please, including flowers and jewelry.  Dinner and movies. 


Theory Three.  This is a theory I did not come up with on my own.  Men have become emasculated by women.  You read about this in the media all the time. Why should they become emasculated?  Because we have OPINIONS??  Because we have JOBS??  Malarkey.  This is just a cop out to get out of footing the bill for dinner. 


Men and women have found it too easy to go out, get drunk and go home with each other.  It is much easier than dating.  Dating is HARD.  hell relationships are hard, so you know getting to one is! Keeping up your end of the conversation.  What?  HARD!  Not spilling spaghetti sauce on your white blouse.  For me, that’s REALLY hard.  Worrying about who is going to pay.  Another dilemma that has been the topic of many conversations over my lifetime.  It is much easier to get drunk, go home with someone you would actually LIKE to date and get to know better, and then you can blame your behavior on the bottle.  Or the beer goggles.


I think it’s sad that dating has fallen by the wayside, except for high school kids.  Hell, even they use the hook up method of courtship.  I would love to be wooed and courted.  Have love letters written to me.  Now all we have is drunken texting, dialing and emailing.  Not much of a trade. 


Have women made it to easy for the men because of our own physical desires?  We like sex, too.  We also like having dinner bought for us, flowers sent to us, little notes to let us know you’re thinking about us.  We can’t help it.  Even the most feminist of us still are women and more sentimental and emotional by nature.  Would it really kill you to treat us to a meal once in a while?  I mean we read magazines to learn better techniques in oral sex, bedroom maneuvers; we spend oodles of money on cute panties and sexy bras.  Does our effort not warrant some sort of reward other than a couple of quick drunken thrusts and then the inevitable pass out and snoring?  I know we women aren’t perfect.  I love to buy my man gifts.  I have spent more money on boyfriends than I care to think about.  I do it because I want to though. I want them to feel special and loved.  Is it wrong that I want that, too? I think not! 


I would put a ban on myself against drunken hook ups, but it would fruitless.  As many of us already know, dating in Columbia is dead.  I might as well get some good kissing out of it.


I guess it all goes back to my desire to meet a man like George Bailey.  I fear I will die waiting.

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