Archive for the ‘relationships and romance’ Category

Sometimes, I have a dream about you, and it just rips me back twenty years. My heart breaks all over again. You used to say I would be the one to leave first, but I told you it would be you. I knew I would love you through everything, and I would have.  I might still. Some days I am pretty sure I’m over it, but other days I am sure there will always be the lion’s share of my heart that still has your initials carved in it.  Those out of the blue dreams are always so bittersweet. They are always so sweet and innocent, so real. Then I wake up and remember that it hasn’t been that way in decades.

I wish I could be more resolute when I sleep, more determined to keep you out of that vulnerable zone.  I don’t even think I want the you of today.  I think I want the us of yesterday.  I’m no romantic fool.  I don’t pine for you, but I do think I miss what we could have had. I do know that I have never in my life loved someone the same way, so openly, so completely.  I think I have managed to guard against that heartbreak again.  I try to lower that shield sometimes, but it always ends up in a disappointment, but disappointment is far easier to overcome than heartbreak.

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I have been on Facebook for a while now.  Since then, I have learned that several guys I went to high school and college with always wanted to ask me out but didn’t! At first, I was thinking, “Damn!  If you guys had stepped up, I wouldn’t have been dateless all through high school!”  Okay, It wasn’t that serious. I did have dates, but the  guys who have fessed up to me were definitely guys I would have gone out with, at least once.  I am not uppity, nor do I think I’m some goddess in flip flops. I AM picky, but mainly I’m picky in that I won’t date drug addicts, men who look like hobbits, trolls or ewoks, men who act like assholes to servers, old people or children, men who are not too bright, and men who take the world and themselves far too seriously.  Besides, I went to school with some pretty awesome guys, who I would have dated, except for a couple.

The men in college (and I use the term “men” loosely considering we were 18 to 22) didn’t stand a chance. I was completely in love.  I did have guys man up and ask me out, tell me to dump Bryan, date them, etc. It didn’t work, I was smitten and no cute hippie boy could sway me.  I wonder how my life would be different if I had said yes to Scott, Jeff or Craig (who is a doctor and was completely in love with me), but I don’t regret my decisions. The only regrets I do have don’t involve my love life at all.

After I thought about it, I realized those scaredy cat high school boys weren’t to blame. It’s hard enough to ask a girl out, but a girl who is full of confidence, realizes her own potential and future greatness? It would be easier to run naked through a football game. I have always been brazen and opinionated, not always top qualifications for a girl growing up in SC who was a little odd to begin with.  I should have made it easier for them but not seeming like a friend or a buddy. I was a flirt, but I was an equal opportunity flirt.  Bryan often commented on that, but he didn’t mind.  He understood that was just my way.  I also think that as amazing as this might seem to someone who doesn’t know me, I was a little scared myself.  I was scared for different reasons though.  I didn’t want to grow up and make mistakes my mother had made.  I WAS going to college, and I WAS NOT going to get knocked up in high school.  I kept boys at arm’s length oftentimes.  However, even now, if I set my sites on you.  You’re pretty much doomed. It’s rare that I don’t “get my man”

Now, I’m 42, never married and still not much of a dater,and I’m okay with that, because I suck at it.  I’m good at relationships, but I feel so awkward on dates.  This is probably why most of the guys I have dated were guys I was already friends with.

I wonder if any 25 years when I’m sixty, some old friend is going to come u to me at funeral or an bird buffet and tell me he always wanted to ask me out, but didn’t.  It reminds me of our friend Margie who passed away a couple of years ago.  This older man who no one knew was at her funeral and when her sister asked who he was, he told her that he had gone to college with Margie.  He said he had always been  in love with her but was too afraid of rejection to tell her how he felt. How sad for both of them.  Imagine the life they could have had? If he never married and loved her without being with her, imagine how much love they would have shared had he made that move.

So what Facebook has taught me is to Go for it.  Whether I will follow through, I will have to wait and see.

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For all of my bravado and audacity, I only show people about 70% of what I really am.  I usually say what I am thinking, but always know, I’m holding back just a bit.  Inside, I am usually repressing some feeling or thought that I think it’s safest to leave unspoken.  Safest for me.  I am generally, not concerned about how it will make me appear to most of the population, but I have gotten so used to agreeing to do things I really don’t want to do that it’s only a rare few that gets the gritty truth.  I have probably only revealed romantic interest in 5% of the men to whom I’ve actually been attracted. It’s much safer to not step out on that limb.  This I have learned the hard way.  I am not a heart on my sleeve kind of girl with my emotions, except those of the pissed off variety, but even those, I often tamp down – it’s usually not worth the uproar.  But for sure, sadness, disappointment, unrequited love – those will remain on the down-low, controlled and only displayed to a select few, no matter how raw or painful.

I often wish I could have grown up a crazy one.  The one who drinks daily, smokes weed, snorts, shoots up, doesn’t work, sleeps, mooches, disappoints, but most importantly, does so with  reckless uncaring abandon – regarding those who care for them.  I would love to just give in to insanity and blame all of my problems, failures, insecurities on some one thing or person.  The idea of just sitting in a mental hospital on drugs and telling people what they want to hear is appealing.  Unfortunately, at some point they’d see through my ruse.  They’d know I’m no more crazy than the next man or woman.   The ironic thing about this, I am pretty sure I”m in the majority.

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So, it’s been a while since I have done shown some love (and some unlove)

Things I am loving right now:

**almond bear claws from Publix

**teen lit

**my new teaching ideas


**fresh, new razor cartridges

**the promise of fall in the air some mornings

**the reminder of summer in the air most afternoons

**planning my halloween costume

**playing with Matthew

**my new clinique mascara

**walker’s short bread

**my friends

**all of my dog/house/pool sitting jobs

**tammy’s pimento cheese

**thinking about the SC State Fair in a month!!

**reading my students’ journals (my favorite of which was a funny, cute account of trying to get Justin Beiber’s phone number on Twitter)

**our seventh graders this year

**ginger ale

**goat cheese


**orbit spearmint gum

**my kitties

**a certain man who can always make me laugh


**new tv line ups

**project runway

**tim gunn telling off one of the contestants on PR

**Pinnacle whipped cream vodka with orange juice

**Jon Stewart and The Daily Show


**new season of The Amazing Race in two weeks!
Stuff I am not loving….

>>fall allergy season (achoooo)

>>car repairs


>>being too busy to walk (which will be rectified this week!)

>>my  tan is fading

>>extremists who are intolerant

>>the stinkiness of the river

>>lazy students

>>my messy room

>>judgmental people who don’t know what they’re talking about

>>not being a trustfund baby or lottery winner


>>those ankle boot sandals mutations

>>jelly shoes

>>katy perry songs (all of them)

>>my spilling everything

>>my crappy old ass mattress

>>my crappy ankle

>>white chocolate

>>raspberry anything

>>lemon anything

>>the new cherry 7UP formula

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Recently, someone asked me about my most memorable date.  Most of the dates that I have had that are memorable are memorable because they were so crappy.  It reminded me of the worst date I ever had.

When I was in 11th grade, my best friend Debbie and I had met these college freshmen boys from USC.  Details on how we met them escape me.   One boy in particular caught my eye, Dante.  I know. I know.  The name alone should have warned me, but I was young, and he was hot.  Picture it, Columbia, 1986, a beautiful young high school junior meets a hot young college freshman.  Okay, I was slightly above average looking, but he WAS hot.  He had long blonde hair, -hey, it was the 80s damnit- blue eyes, and best of all, he was realllly smart.  I have always been a sucker for a smart guy.  Anyway, after we had all been hanging out one Friday night, I drinking a two liter bottle of Sun Country cherry wine coolers, the rest drinking beer or wine, Dante asked me out.  Woohoo!  Well, I should have known better.  The date was riding with him to Rock Hill to drop off some winter things and pick up some other things because it was getting close to time for school to be over.

That night, Debbies front axle fell out of The Banana Boat and we waited literally hours on Main Street in front of the USC School of Law for her lame ass dad to send a tow truck to get us.  Lord knows HE was not going to do it.  We got home around daylight.  Dante was picking me up at  7:30 to leave for Rock Hill.  To this day I do not why we left that early.  Needless to say, I was extraordinarily sleepy, but I went.  It was downhill from there.

Problem 1

I had explained to him about how we had not gotten much sleep, hoping he would let me off the hook for a small nap (as a REAL gentleman would have), but he said, Aw man, that sucks!  I bet you are tired.  Lets talk about the most boring subject I can think of.  Okay, he didnt say that last partbut he proceeded to do just that!   Granted, I am a relatively intelligent girl.  Even as a high school girl, I could carry my own in most any conversation on nearly any topic. HOWEVER, just because I COULD talk about any topic did not mean I WANTED to.  I do not even KNOW how this topic arose, but someone I found myself in a discussion over the Watergate scandal.  Why were young adults talking about freaking Watergate at 8:00 on a beautiful spring morning?  Perhaps I would not have minded so much if I had gotten more than 1 and a half hour of sleep. I was just NOT in the mood.  Finally, the KIMFINNEY in me came out and I said, Do we really have nothing more interesting we can talk about?  He became a little miffed, but he let it go.

Problem 2

When we arrived in Rock Hill, I was getting my third or fourth wind and we were getting along.  When we walked into his house I met his mother.  SHE WAS AN OLDER VERSION OF ME!  My new crush had an Oedipal complex!  She had short curly dark hair like I had, fair skin, bubbly personality.  She was really nice!  We were also wearing the exact same sweater, color and all.  I was so freaked out.  Dante spent the next two hours ignoring me and talking to his mom.  He was definitely a mamas boy.  She started his laundry!  We had to stay until his dirty clothes were clean.

Problem 3

His father came in and we all had lunch.  I dont even remember what it was, but at least it was edible.  While we were eating, someone was outside practicing a TRUMPET! It was very nearby and we could hear every single botched note clearly.  I was slap happy from the sleep deprivation and the entire twilight zone aspect of this date, that I started laughing and couldnt stop.  I know his mom and dad thought I was a fool.

Problem 4

We barely spoke the entire trip home, so it was big fun.  I did mention that his mom and I bore a striking resemblance. He didnt seem to appreciate the observation.

Problem 5

When we got back to Columbia, instead of taking me home first, he went to his dorm, parking a good two blocks away and asked me to help him carry all this crap we had brought back!  I toted this big ass basket of his freshly laundered clothing while he carried two guitars.

Problem 6

Oh, yeah, did I mention he was a musician.

Problem 7

When we got home, I think he actually wanted to give me a good bye kiss!  WHAT??? He must have been NUTS.  I jumped out of that car, yelled bye over my shoulder and bounded up the steps to my house.  Only stopping once I was safely inside.

This was hands down the worst date I had been on.  I only refer to it as a date because he said, wanna go out?    I didnt hear from him for several months. Then one night, I was working on some project for history  when he appeared on my doorstep.  I invited him in to be polite, which is where the niceties ended.  We made small talk.  He made some comment and I retorted.  It was so unimportant that I dont even know what it was about now.  He said, You always have to have the last word.

I said,  No, I dont. You do.

He laughed and said, Uh. No.

I said, Really?  Then what are you doing here?  You had to get the last word after that disaster of  a date when I yelled bye and took off.

He said, I just came by to see how you were doing.

I just smiled.  I figured if I gave him the freakin last word, hed leave me the hell alone.  Nooooo.  He kept going on and on defending himself.  Finally, I said, Listen, I need to finish this, youre gonna have to leave.

Oh, Okay.

As he was walking out of the door, I did get the last word.  I said, Glad you got that last word you were seeking.  And slammed the door.

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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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