Times They are a Changin’

With the changing leaves and colder breeze, I recently had an idea.

I want more voices on this here blog.

If I had a sign it would say, “CALLING ALL SINGLETONS AND MORE!” Male, or female. Old, or young. Games of Thrones fan, or not. I’m looking for some new guest bloggers to hang out and talk about the nitty gritty relationship stuff. Whether you are single OR in a relationship, I want you!

Yeah, that’s right, I’m talking to you married folk, too.

Fill out this form and tell me a little bit about yourself and I’ll check ya out and see if you would fit. You could be a reocurring guest blogger, or a one-hit wonder. It’s up to you! I just know the world wants to hear your story, and this is a safe place to tell it.

This blog is about relationships, and it’s mission is to make people with broken hearts feel less lonely — women feel less insane about having emotions — and men feel less baffled by lady emotions. The goal is simple: let’s talk about the complexity of relationships and lurv. Clearly, there is a lot to talk about, and neverending stories to tell.


A Month Hiatus

Apparently I took a hiatus from blogging without knowing. Today marks 30 days since my last post, which to my knowledge, I have never done before. Apparently I was feeling uninspired. Or rather, I felt compelled to think more than write. But I’m back. And ready to rant and rave about all the relationship fixins that drive me crazy and keep my hungry for more. It’s a sick, sad world when your single, and even sicker/sadder when your taken. 😉

So what do I want to talk about after 30 days of silence? Something very big. VERY, VERY big.

As of this weekend I will no longer be 25.

26 is rearing it’s ugly head, and when I say ugly I really mean sexy. 26 is going to be sexy. I can feel it. It’s one letter off, six. sex. six. See? 26 doesn’t need reasons why it’s the shiat. It knows it is and just saying it makes it enough.

So who is going to be 25 single white female? I still am. Mostly because I bought the domain name, and I’m not really single anymore (unless I fill out a government form, and I still am)…so whatever, it’s all a mess. That’s the way I like it.

Speaking of the way I like it…some things are cookin’ in the proverbial kitchen but I can’t quite talk about them yet. Just let it be known, some serious changes may be coming down the way. And (as always) I will be taking you all with me. And hopefully Mr. M, too. 😀

Yours waiting on an email,



It’s May 20th, my dear friends. And I recently found out that (apparently) The Rapture is tomorrow. But that’s not what we are here to talk about…but at least I made it to my Vow in time. Otherwise, wow, to be tormented for five months, as predicted via The Rapture, at the end of a six month self-torment (aka The Vow) would just be a real doozy.

So what does May 20th mean? Well, there’s this Vow thing I embarked upon six months ago. It was my way of protecting my pants and my heart. And it worked. Some of my friends criticized my sexless sabbatical, but I don’t regret it one bit.

I can’t say that I reached my May 20th goal, entirely. But I will say that the past 20 days have been gloriously warm. And I’m so happy about the change in temp. And it may just be a coincidence, but I’d like to think that the fact that The Vow coincides with the time of the year when the whole world warms up and begins to bloom, makes it just that more special. Oh, Spring…I’m ready for my love affair.

And it’s already begun…this morning I woke up and there was Mr. M holding me while thunder shook the walls and rain raged on outside. It was the perfect way to wake up to May 20th.

Yours taking the day off work for obvious reasons (like to catch up on some errands…geez, what were you thinking?),


It should be.

He looked at me over the dinner I just made for us. Garlic sautéed bell peppers, wine, and dyed eggs sat between us.

“How could anyone ever be mean to you?” he said referring to the very limited information I had relayed about MF.

I smiled. But I wanted to cry.

“I’m serious. How? You are so nice, and caring, and…” His words trailed off and everything was a little fuzzy, including the velvet seat beneath my rump. I really have no idea what he said to me after that.

When I came back to Earth, “Well you deserve it. You are always thoughtful of me. Always asking me how I am. Always thinking of me. You are unlike anyone I have ever met,” I told him.

Immediately I regretted saying that last line. So cliche and dumb. Can we rewind and make me sound a little less like an ass? Nope. Ok well, moving forward.

“But that’s all normal stuff,” he said.

“No, it’s really not,” I said.

“Well it should be,” he smiled.

This past Sunday I planned a surprise day for Mr. M.

He has been working incredibly hard on some projects at work and the stress was wearing on him. And despite all of the stress, he was still wonderful to me. He didn’t ignore me, or treat me strangely. He even surprised me with cupcakes from Cuppies & Joe.

Red VinesAnd his surprise day was based around one thing. A bath. Funny, I know. But awhile back Mr. M mentioned he hadn’t had a bath in like a year. His current shower situation didn’t allow for baths. And I just found that unacceptable, since baths are a regularity in my life. I bought man wash (aka Old Spice), a man louffa (silver man color), Red Vines (his favorite man candy), and bath salts (that weren’t really so manly in any scent).

I cleaned my bathroom from head to toe, lit some candles, put on some relaxing music (Bon Iver Pandora station) and welcome Relax Town USA!

And before the best bath ever, we dyed eggs, in honor of Easter and really just in honor of the fact that dying eggs is an incredible amount of fun. We chomped on bread and brie, sipping some wine, and coming up with crazy egg creations.

Then I snuck away to get the bath ready. “Get naked,” I told him. And he did. Remember, the Vow is (semi intact). So no funny business, just a warm, relaxing bath.

While Mr. M bathed away his stress I started dinner. I was finishing everything up when he walked in.

After the fuzzy moments I mentioned above, our conversation continued… “No one has ever done something for me this nice,” he said.

“Well, that’s unfortunate…ever?” I was confused. Mr. M was one of the kindest guys I had ever met. No one ever did things like this for him?

“No, I’m usually the one doing stuff like this,” he said.

“Well it’s all normal stuff.”

“Not for me,” he was acting a little different.

“Well, it should be,” I said and we both smiled at our realization that we both thought it should be for different (yet I guess, the same) reasons.

Yours thinking about how it should be the case that we think about the ones we are with a little more often (but why don’t we?),


Guest Blogger – 27swf: Doggy Style, Part II…or the lack thereof…

(This post is part of an awesome series of awesome 25swf guest bloggers- read about them here!)

With the release of “No Strings Attached” two weeks ago, I began contemplating all the friends I’ve had sex with in my life. I realized that most all these incidences started just around when I became a 27swf. There was the colleague that I hooked up with on my couch, the friend I went home with after a karaoke party, the buddy who I spent a hot weekend with by the beach, the lifelong friend that I made out with…and felt like I was kissing myself. They were mostly uninspiring trysts, leaving me with great stories, some orgasms and ultimately, the intense desire to bolt when the sun came up.

It also led me to a singular conclusion: there is reason why we’re friends and not more.

However, I’ve found myself in a new conundrum dating D aka Doggy Style (read all about him here). After an impromptu run-in in November, we started becoming friends after years as just acquaintances. There were long distance jogs on the beach, evenings of long phone conversations, writing exchanges, book swaps, movie swaps. Then, one night, a little vodka led things to the bedroom. They that stayed that way for about two weeks, at which point I left town for a month for work and vacation. We spent nearly a month apart, communicating via text, phone and email, becoming closer and closer.

When I came back from my trip, we continued to stay close, our communication becoming more frequent and comfortable. But as time passed, he seemed less interested in sex yet more interested in me. Baffling. In all my other relationships, the sex became more frequent as we got to know each other, but with D, it seemed the closer we grew, the more he shied away.

Then, we had the “conversation.” The talk that every self-respecting woman has, then regrets soon after. Because, let’s be honest, ladies. No man out there EVER wants to have “the conversation.” Even if he’s crazy about you. Even if he’s madly in love with you. He doesn’t want to be pressured into saying how he feels. And so, I got exactly what I was expecting: the “I don’t know what I want. I don’t know if I can be a boyfriend. I’m damaged by my last relationship. You’re becoming my best friend, can we just keep things how they’ve been?”

Last week, I suffered major tragedy in my family. I left town, once again, and once again, D was there for comfort. He made me laugh on the phone, calling to see how I was doing. He sent me emails to cheer me up. He appeared faithfully at the airport, carried my suitcase upstairs, and sat with me for two hours while I regaled him with tales of the funeral, the characters, etc. Then, he left, a hug and a goodbye.

Again, the next day. Texting, phone calls, emails. We decided to watch Gossip Girl that night (with his puppy, of course). I headed over, convinced that maybe, perhaps, I could distract myself from my week of pain by getting naked — escape my emotions by swallowing myself in sex. But instead, nothing happened. We watched TV on his couch and he promptly walked me to my car after the show was over. Overwhelmed by the week’s events, I burst into tears. I told him I couldn’t be alone, that I didn’t understand his gestures which, to me, were so romantic and kind, but his actions seemed to suggest he found me repulsive. Why couldn’t he touch me and hold me? He said he didn’t feel like being romantic right now in his life, that he was still mourning his last relationship, that sex made him feel guilty because his last girlfriend accused him of using her for sex. Above all, he said that it takes him time to feel comfortable with someone…and he’s not there yet. He doesn’t know how he feels, only that he really enjoys our time together. That our chemistry is strong but he doesn’t feel compelled to romance me just yet. I asked if I could stay the night, that I was too depressed to be alone and he said yes. We slept side by side; his arm grazed my body throughout the night, pulling the blanket over me when he felt it fall. I couldn’t tell if he was awake or asleep when he held me. When I left in the morning, I told him I needed time to think. And I’m still thinking.

My girlfriends think he’s damaged, that maybe it’s too much work after getting over my 25swf romance. I’m a 27swf now — don’t I have new expectations? New goals? Do I really want the same guy all over again…the one who is fearful, confused, damaged, introspective? The one who needs and wants me but can’t bring himself to be 100% present? My father, on the other hand, says he’s a nice guy who just needs some time (don’t worry, observant readers, dad gets the G-rated version of this story)

Yesterday we didn’t speak and I missed him. I missed our great conversations, our jokes, our comfort with each other.

I remembered the days in college and after, when all I wanted was a guy to be kind, to pick me up from the airport, to be my friend, and not just want me for sex. To want to see me in sunlight and not the inebriated haze of midnight. And now…? I feel like the tables have turned. That I’m the one wanting sex, craving someone touching my body…and feeling okay with leaving in the morning. D says that maybe, I’m the “guy” in our relationship…that I have to wait for him to “ready” for the sexual relationship that I want and feel comfortable having.

I’m left wondering if maybe now, I’m the one using sex as a way of not really getting too close….or if I’m just making excuses.

What do you all think, fellow readers? I’m curious for your input…

Yours, in confusion,