tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35158127954242284962026-05-28T20:44:35.737+01:00Not a quite the cougar. Not quite the kitty. Caught in the middle of being older and feeling younger, Urban Puma is on the prowl. The District is her playground and sanctuary. She had no idea what the dating rules are, and frankly she doesn't care, she has a tendency to have problems with rules and authority as it is. Hop on in, brace yourself people. She's on the road in search of love and a deeper sense of meaning sprinkled with a healthy dose of baddassness along the way...Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-59246714799683982472010-01-20T04:40:00.000+00:002010-01-20T04:40:52.676+00:00

I am still alive, apologies loyal readers for the slight drop-off. Have you ever just been so overwhelmed with things to do, you didn't know where to begin? Not really an excuse here, more an explanation. I promised myself when I realized I hadn't been back to share life with you all, I commit to at least 1x week posts, and hopefully more! Sooo back to the adventure, in short: -had 2 more dates

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-48951130429404357072010-01-01T22:18:00.000+00:002010-01-01T22:18:33.091+00:00

Beds. Sex. It's hard not to think about sex when I think of beds. In fact, 9 times out of 10, I prefer sex over sleep. You can sleep anytime. I would love to say you can have sex anytime. Okay, you technically can, but good sex, that's another story. Out of DC, in a new city, I was ready to let my wild child out and part of that release automatically includes an extra burst of sensual/sexual

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-31167308306932331982009-12-30T18:31:00.000+00:002009-12-30T18:31:35.815+00:00

Puma in DC has been quiet. It's DC's fault, folks have high-tailed it outta here for the holidays, and the sharp chill in the air has this woman pretty unmotivated to prowl around. I've been content prepping for a trip out of town myself, see my besties for some fun in the sun. I am pretty sure my mojo will be unleashed by the very nature of leaving that which is familiar. It's somehow always

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-66868402976308263502009-12-23T17:07:00.000+00:002009-12-23T17:07:44.730+00:00

Delete. Right? Well I did, and then IM (Irresponsible Man, the one who never called to formally cancel date due to snow storm) stepped up, a little bit. As I left work last night, he texted me to ask when was a good time for me to talk. I like that, respect for my time, asking first, all good things. I let him know I’d be out and he asked me to ring him at my convenience. I was out last night,

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-58377085648438505332009-12-22T19:51:00.000+00:002009-12-22T19:51:59.125+00:00

So how was that blind-friend date thing? It was as I expected, I was not physically attracted to him , but really enjoyed a good time. I always find it interesting to meet someone who is focused on what they want and able to articulate it with passion and vigor.  We talked about a lot, from work to personal space and growing up, it was a good time...and as I was walking home, I started

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-90221057762009270692009-12-20T21:16:00.002+00:002009-12-20T21:16:47.652+00:00

I called NMM back on my way to the gym last week, and he not only picked up, but went on and on about how he was thrilled to finally hear my voice “Hold on, oh my, hold on, let me sit down , is this really you, your voice”. Super duper dramatic, and kinda cute. We chatted and he told me that he’s been soooo busy the last 3 weeks and not had a minute to spare, and now he wants to see me. Well

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-900253098530889882009-12-16T21:00:00.000+00:002009-12-16T21:00:40.695+00:00

Called NMM back last night, left him a brief VM. Back and forth the volley continues. Also heard from another online prospect, might do the coffee thing next week. Speaking of online…I mentioned in an earlier post my hesitations with doing the whole online thing…my hesitation goes back to earlier this summer…             July 15, Paris train

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-63278636284930364132009-12-15T21:20:00.000+00:002009-12-15T21:20:42.897+00:00

Non man-man called. I. am. so. excited. Not. You see, thing is, he lost it with the texting. Sexy texting banter is one thing. Calling me 'your woman' after not actually calling or SEEING me for 3 weeks is not sexy. Or interesting. It started like this: Non man-man (NMM): Hiiiii Where have you beeen? Why have you disappeared? Don't you care anymore? that was Friday. On Monday I replied: ME: Hi,

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-6182400776841084822009-12-15T00:21:00.000+00:002009-12-15T00:21:34.644+00:00

Game, set, Match? It's a game, we all play them, albeit sometimes unwillingly, but we play nonetheless. Sometimes the games of dating cross the line, and sometimes they're just flirtatious fun. Volleying back and forth, increasing tension, attaction and desire. Thus far, I've managed to step on court and find my own balls to play with, or rather they've rolled onto my court so to speak. Many of

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-71963447672968588962009-12-08T05:02:00.000+00:002009-12-08T05:02:15.861+00:00

Having returned from a whirlwind trip to NYC, I started to wonder....where are the men in DC? Let me rephrase that, where are the attractive men in DC? In NYC, nearly every bar, restaurant, shop and street corner seemed to be teaming with hot men. I realize the sheer number of people in NYC contributes to this fantastic phenomenon, but I do recall a few years back having a better situation in

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-44634123991015205302009-12-05T07:03:00.002+00:002009-12-05T07:10:29.995+00:00

Clean slate...well not really. No. such. thing. I often wake up thinking I'm going to start the day fresh, brand new. And while there's a morsel of truth in that, can you ever really wipe the slate clean? They say it's a good goal to have, strive to start anew from the day before, the month before, the year before. But is it always a bad thing to not have a completely clean slate? Don't some of

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-19335261450184547502009-12-01T15:08:00.001+00:002009-12-01T15:09:42.152+00:00

Lists. You make them daily or perhaps only prior to your grocery store trip. Some find lists tedious and stupid, others find them a stellar method of organization. I think most people who shy away from list making are simply afraid of disappointing themselves when/if they don't accomplish everything on said list. The beauty of making your own list, it's yours. YOU set the rules. You don't have to

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-69921872398421635372009-11-29T18:32:00.000+00:002009-11-29T18:32:55.945+00:00

Quick update, non man-man sent a text on Friday, asking how I was and wishing me a happy Thanksgiving. Nice, yes, but is it still nice when it's now Sunday, and again, nothing? Before you wonder, yes, of course, I did respond, and also inquired how he was doing. No response. My declining interest has morphed into solid disinterest. Oh and still haven't gotten any ideas for a new moniker, thus the

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-8007077798041707762009-11-27T22:27:00.000+00:002009-11-27T22:27:22.332+00:00

Red flags. Signs. That gut feeling. Signals that tell you something is off, potential _______ (fill in the blank) ahead. Danger? Heartbreak? Disappointment? Any and are possible. And experiencing the rocky terrain of uncertainty is part of the territory, so what's a puma to do? Acknowledge and roll. Go with the flow, with her head held high, yet having her ear to the ground. A few weeks after

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3515812795424228496.post-86121892252425031072009-11-24T22:23:00.004+00:002009-11-25T19:57:46.098+00:00

Do you bring it up or not? The *number*. I am still struggling with this. Is it bad to not let the 28 year old know that you're nearly a decade his senior? I mean, it's not like I am going to marry him right? I may not even see him naked. I have answered my own question, as I let the struggle dissolve into non-action. Here's how it started, and let me state this never happens to me. Well, it did

Urban Pumahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13919872654516311632noreply@blogger.com0