Musings For Those Who Are Relationship Challenged

Moving Forward

2011-06-05T23:53:00.000-05:00

Dear Chutney,

Great to see you a couple times last week. As you now know Swirl (or Husky) and I broke up. I'm still trying to figure out what happened. We went to Florida with her daughter and stayed with a couple of her friends. Nice place, about a hours drive to Disney World which we never went to. We went to Universal Studios - fantastic, to the beach at New Smyrna - wonderful, and Typhoon Lagoon - not bad. I think I liked the day at the beach the best. I love the ocean. One day , I hope to live on or near the ocean.

The first night in Florida Swirl stayed out till 5:00 am talking (and drinking) with the son of the couple and his girlfriend. I thought we were going to Florida together but apparently not. I should have brought up my issues earlier but I never found Swirl that easy to talk with about relationship issues. Pickles was much better.

The next day I made a joke (I'll admit in bad taste) and she didn't like it. She voiced her discontent. I felt criticized and I just shut down. She and the others went out that night and I stayed back at the condo and watched TV. That night Shirl slept with her daughter. Her excuse was that she didn't want to wake me up. Like that has ever been a issue -sheesh.

We manage to wear smiles for the rest of the trip but when I got home I was just done. I had put so much work into the relationship and bonding with her daughter that I had no more energy. I just gave up. For all my effort, I thought she would be a bit more appreciative. I have trouble with appreciation, I never feel like I get enough. I suppose that is life. Maybe someday I'll get used to it.

I was also very stressed out about Rhino coming to live with me. He was with Spandex for about 6 weeks but she sold her house and moved out of town. Can you believe that? She used to be a half decent mother but for the last 5 years or so she has be the worst. There is no way that Rhino can get out there on his own so now he is with me - forever. He did try to stay at her new place for a weekend but lasted only one night. He said he couldn't sleep. I don't blame him actually. Of course, I'm happy that Rhino is living with me but before he moved back I imposed the condition that he had to let me manage his money. He was really pissed off when I left for Florida so as you might expect I was stressed out. When I left his choice was to stay with me and let me help him manage his money or he could stay at the Drop-In Centre. Luckily, he chose to stay with me and let me help him manage his money. Now he actually wants me to help him. I'm thrilled.

But the stress of it all didn't help my relationship with Swirl. I need someone who can help me through the stresses of life. Spandex wasn't the one. Swirl wasn't either.

My conclusion, after thinking about this for a couple weeks is that I felt trapped in the relationship. Bottom line: Swirl was great. The sex was the best ever. She could cook. She wasn't very demanding. Except psychologically she was. Just little things that she would say or do - or not do. Like not going out for dinner when you were in town. That is just strange. I love sharing my friendships. To not share friendships is just weird.

---------------------------------

I wrote that a few weeks ago and never finished. I was feeling rather bummed out but now I'm good.

I don't think I told you this but I was quite interested in Cidnee - the woman sitting beside you at dinner with the kid. I'm over her now. Well truth be told she asked me to the opera and a few other events which I interpreted as asking me on a date but that wasn't her intention at all. She just wants to be friends. I fine with that. I like having friends. I've known her for a few years and never asked her out. I'm not sure why - I just didn't. I think I was pretty sure it would never work out. We are too close professionally. Anyway, it was good to finally get the possibility resolved.

I have a new interest. Her nickname is Genoa. We connected online. I haven't actually met her but we are hoping to get together next weekend for a coffee or a drink or a walk or something. I spoke to her on the phone tonight for the first time. She laughs. I like that. I could do with some laughter in my life. She has 3 kids; oldest is 17 - a girl. There is a father so she gets the odd weekend off. That will be a nice change for me. The last couple of gals had non existent fathers so they were on call 100% of the time.

I'll keep you posted.

Cocktales

Life is Tough

2011-04-19T23:19:00.000-05:00

Dearest Chutney,

I miss writing to you so I thought I would write. Don't feel obligated to reply, just read and enjoy. Or cry.

It was great talking with you by phone over the last couple weekends. I miss you. I'm sorry to hear about the difficulties with your boyfriend(s). Love is hard to find - true love, that last, is nearly impossible.

I would recommend reading The Road Less Traveled by Scott Peck.
See: http://www.mscottpeck.com/html/scott-peck.html. Excellent book.

The book starts with the line: Life is Difficult.
And then goes on with:
"This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths. It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it. Once we truly know that life is difficult--once we truly understand and accept it--then life is no longer difficult. Because once it is accepted, the fact that life is difficult no longer matters."
M. Scott Peck from The Road Less Traveled

So what should we do? Accept that life is difficult. That is it. Simple... sort of.

Of course, accepting is easier to say than to do. Especially, when life keeps throwing difficult curve balls. Unfortunately, this part of life will never change. The good news is that we do get relief - occasionally.

I'll describe my struggles. I appreciate your listening.

I have to sell my house. I have a few reasons as to why. First, I live on my own and the house is too big. I do have renters in the basement but it's not enough. The main problem is that my business has debts that we incurred in the first 2 years - when I was married. And we can't pay them off using existing cash flow. The only solution I can think of is to sell the house pay back a portion of our debts and then take a reduced salary to pay off the rest. Brutal. I don't want to pay too much in storage fees so I need to sell nearly everything. I'll keep the Cougar, my bed, photos, and memory items but everything else has to go. The sad part is that I have to sell at a loss - less than what I paid for the house. Brutal. Brutal. Brutal.

But there is another reason. I feel trapped. Trapped by debt and trapped by the North American lifestyle. I feel like the only way I can be free is to get rid of the debt and travel. So that is may plan. Sell the house, pay off some debts and travel.

Swirl (that's my new nick name for my girl friend. I never like Husky) and I watched Dr. Zhivago on the weekend. I think I've seen it twice now. They lived difficult lives. All the characters. It just goes from one tragedy to another. But there are bright moments. Love. Living in the country. Love is difficult.

I have some good news. Rhino was here then left for Spandex's place. The reason is that he started smoking weed 5 minutes after promising not too. He even signed a piece of paper, a contract. The consequence which he agree too, reluctantly, was to loose access to the Internet for a week. So I took away the connection. He left. Of course, Spandex welcomed him "home" - I would have done the same.

My real reason for the sever consequence is that I'm tired of Riley spending his money on drugs during the first part of the month and then asking me for money later in the month because he's run out. I will admit that when he was sick I was lenient. But he is getting better, much better. In my opinion, better health equates to more responsibility. So that is what I did and Rhino left.

Normally, parents talk and agree on rules and expected behaviors. Then they follow through on consequences - together. But in my case, or Rhino's case to be precise, this doesn't happen - Spandex just does what she thinks is best. So do I frankly, but this is only after years of trying to get my point across and feeling like an idiot because I didn't see the wisdom of her ideas. I think I told you this before but if she has 10 ideas, 5 are good, 3 are so-so and 2 are stupid but she thinks all 10 are brilliant. Rarely did I ever get her to agree to one of my ideas and if she did agree I never heard the end of her sacrifices. It was hell. Still is actually.

And guess who suffers. When the buffalo fight it's the frogs that suffer. Rhino ends up doing stupid things to hid the pain.

But let me continue the story. So at the end of this week Rhino and Giraffe are moving back in with me. Spandex sold her house. Giraffe has a rented an apartment but needs a place for a few day. Rhino doesn't have anywhere else to go. Spandex and her dipstick boyfriend (did I tell you meet him? That's another story) can only take Riley for 2 weeks out of a month because his 2 girls are there. I doubt that Riley will stay there ever. I'm counting on him getting some type of assisted living arrangement. God, I hope so.

Here's a funny fact. Spandex's boyfriend is an engineer with 2 girls. Divorced. Spandex's father was an engineer and she is one of 2 daughters. Isn't that creepy? Sad actually.

Okay back to the story. So the lads are moving back and I have no idea when Rhino will move out but soon I hope. One condition I had for moving back in with me was that he let me manage his money. The objective is to prevent Rhino from spending money on drugs so that he has money left over at the end of the month for... oh what....? Food, clothes, bus tickets, smokes maybe... I'm I an idiot for coming up with this plan? Spandex thinks so. She thinks that he is doing great. She sent me a long list of improvements she has observed. A good list but he can't live on his own if he is smoking weed and crack and has no money. Now who's the idiot? Can you believe that she had the highest marks in the university when she did her undergrad? When I married her I was proud of that - now I'm not.

Am I crazy? Sometime I would like you to answer that question. Tell me the truth. Be honest. I can take it. Of course, if I really am crazy it won't make any difference. Crazy people are just crazy - broken from reality.

Ridiculous Marriage Rules

2010-09-21T22:33:00.000-05:00

Bitchy? Really? Are you serious? That is a side of your personality I've never seen. And believe me when I say - there are sides of my character that you haven't seen. But I'm not really surprised at either of us. It's not that we are hiding parts of ourselves it's just that we never need to use those darker parts of our character. Nice isn't it? Nice to know someone that doesn't piss you off all the time. Hallmarks of a healthy, functioning, positive relationship. I love it.

And, who cares? So you kick ass once in a while. Good for you. I'm sure you're good at it. And now you get to kick Mr. Vancouver's ass. Go girl.

I loved your story about the "enginerd." Poor guy. He may not have the largest tool in the shed but he's a survivor and doing the best he can. Have you seen this video by Russell Peters? Russell Peters and the penis size theory. Opps, I just fell over - he kills me. Canadian too! BTW, according to his theory, my dick is getting smaller every day.

Thanks for calling the other day. Great to hear your voice and to talk with you. Looking forward to breakfast with you when you're in town. I'm thrilled that you and the Dog Whisperer are doing well. You deserve love and appreciation. I'm glad you are calmer and satisfied. Your efforts and patience are paying off.

So you went to NYC. Really? Without me? Seriously, I need to hear about your trip. I love it there. I would go in a heartbeat.

Speaking of rabbits I'm feeling like one. Remember the gal I told you about with the daughter and the dog. Well we hooked up. Actually, we got tangled up. Well, not us but our dogs; just like in 101 Dalmatians. Have a look at the 40 second mark, you'll see what I mean. Seriously. I'm in love. I'm not kidding. I even tell her as much. And she responds similarly. I think I've told you about how difficult it is for me to love and harder still to say, "I love you" but I do. Anyway we fuck like rabbits which is contributing to my shrinking penis - according to Russell Peters. Unbelievable. I'm thrilled, fascinated, enthralled, and warm.

I've nicknamed her, Huskie. She's pretty and feminine. But she snores which reminds me of Husqvarna power tools. I know, silly me. But sometimes these thoughts just happen with no rational reason. Oh yeah, and she's from Finland. She even speaks Finn. She wasn't born there but both her parents were. She has brown eyes. Who has ever heard of a Scandinavian with brown eyes. I thought they all had blue eyes. My grandparents were Swedish and I have blue eyes. Her eyes are still very pretty. It is possible to have brown eyes and be pretty. But you know that already!

Enough of the present, let me shift to the past and the topic at hand. Let me list a few of the "rules" I had to remember and follow (endure) during my marriage. These are her rules and her responses to my protests which you have to imagine me saying since most of our conversations were one sided anyway. I'm exaggerating a little but not as much as you may think. And the real nice thing is that none of them apply now. Ain't divorce wonderful?

1. Never have sex twice in one night.
"Quit rubbing your penis up against me."
"What do you mean you want sex again? We just had sex and now you want it again?"
"Are you fucking serious? God, you just don't quit. You want sex all the time. You're perverted. Sick and perverted, actually. Now turn over and go to sleep. And don't touch me like you did last night - I'm trying to sleep. Living with you is annoying."

2. Never have sex two days in a row.
"I'm busy right now doing important shit. Let me know when you want to schedule the next inny-outy and I'll check my calendar."
"No you can't look at my calendar. It's private."
"I don't give a shit about your sex drive. It's your sex drive, not mine."
"Shut-up. I don't want to talk about that. That is your private business. Just do what you have to do."
"No, I don't want to watch you. Put that thing back. Not here. Not now. Not ever."
"Can't you see I'm busy. I have to work out, take a shower, and get my nails done. After that I have to get my hair done. Shit I got to run."
"What do you mean, 'Who for?' For me you dumb ass. I get 'all dolled-up', as you say, for me."
"No, not for you. I just like to look good. Oh crap. I need to run. I just remembered that I wanted to drop by Holt Renfrew to pick up a few things."
"No I'm not going to tell you. They're not for you. They're for me. How can you even think that?"
"Yeah I know you're unemployed and we have no money in the bank. That's why I'm going. I'm stressed out."
"Stupid? You're calling me stupid? You're the one who is unemployed. You're such a loser."

3. In fact, it's a good idea to not have sex too often, ever.
"I'm sure it was last week. Remember, I got good marks in school, so I know stuff. Well not stuff about sex but I remember every time you rub your balls, forget to fumigate your pits, pick your nose, pinch a zit, sneeze in my ear, chew with your mouth open, touch my ass, scratch your ass, look at my breasts and think of sex."
"Yes, every time. Now I'm really not in the mood. See how you ruin everything. You're such an asshole."

4. No oral sex.
"Get your face away from me. Don't you ever do that again."
"I know other people do that but I hate it. You can't lick my... well you know, my... thing down there."
"Don't ever say that again, you shithead. Of course, I know what it is. God, what did your parents teach you? Oh yeah, you were born in Africa. What a fucking shit hole that is. I can't believe you used the V word. You are sick. Now I'm really pissed off. There you go again - killing the mood, like usual. Why do you keep doing that?"

5. No hand jobs.
"Well, okay once but never again. I'll use 2 fingers and close my eyes."
"What do you mean 'faster'? I'm going up and down as fast as I can and my arm is burning."
"What do you mean where am I going? I'm going to wash my hands. You could have told me your were going to.... to.... well, you made a mess and now I have to go and clean up. I'll probably take a shower, I feel dirty."
"Yeah dirty. That's what I said. I'm sticky, all over. Can't you control that thing? Now look what you did. Don't even talk to me, you bastard. You really know how to fuck things up. We were doing real well there for a while. But not now... not after you shot your load without giving me a chance to grab the towel. Fuck, you're such a fucking idiot. Don't even think of touching me. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Give it a rest."
"Yes, a long rest for a long time. God, you're so insensitive."

6. Sex in bed, only.
"Okay, we can have sex outside but only two times. And that has to be before we have kids. After we have children, forget about sex anywhere but in the bedroom. On the bed. Under the sheets. With the lights off. And I get to wear my full length nightie. The flannel one. With the long sleeves. And we're going to have fun. Aren't we, my little pet."
"Why so flopsy? You're like a little fish. See what I mean. I get in the mood and then you screw things up. Why do you always do that?"

7. Use lubricant, always.
"Just a second. Hold your fucking horses."
"Will you tie it in a knot it and give me a second. Where is that damn lube tube? Oh shit. It's all used up. That didn't take long to use up the whole tube. Remember we got that just after our disastrous honeymoon. Which was your fault by the way."
"Five years ago? Really? Five years. Damn, how time flies? I didn't realize it was that long ago."
"Another tube? Yeah I suppose we should. Do you mind picking one up in the next week or so? That's a sweetheart."
"Oh, you have a tube in your beside table. Wow, isn't that handy? I didn't know you were capable of thinking ahead. I thought you were only 'spontaneous'. Good for you but now I'm not in the mood. All this talking and planning just took the spontaneity out of it. I wish you wouldn't fuck everything up all the time."

8. Don't make a sound.
"Yes, I'm serious. Shut the fuck up. You're going to wake up the kids, the neighbors, the dog, the fish, and the plants. Plants need sleep too, you know."
"You are fucking ridiculous. You sound like you're taking a shit. Oh fuck, you didn't? Already? If you did, we are finished. Have you not control?"
"Okay, but I just had an visual and I freaked. Remember last week? You came all over me."
"Okay, sorry. Last month? I thought it was last week. Don't remind me. I'm trying to forget about that whole fiasco. What a disaster that was. You're such a moron."
"Are you serious? You enjoyed it? You actually got off on that? You need therapy and real quick. I got some of your.... your.... you know what, in my mouth. I had to use soap and mouthwash to get rid of the taste. I was in trauma for a week. I was going to call my shrink but I didn't want to freak her out. I was mortified. I can't believe you enjoyed that. You're a freak."

9. Don't pinch my nipples.
"Ouch. Fuck off, you prick. Those are my nipples, not yours. I grew them. I carry them. They're attached to MY body. They're mine not yours."
"Yeah you can touch them but not tonight. Maybe next week. You're so violent. You think you can just grab my breasts and pinch my nipples. Well, that's not going to happen. Not in this marriage and not in this life time."
"I know some women have orgasms when someone touches their nipples. My nipples happen to be connected to my tits - I mean my breasts - not my vagina. Those women are freaks. Do I look like a freak to you? No. I'm smart and don't forget it."

10. Don't touch my crack.
"I know I jumped. You touched my crack. Get your fingers out of my crack."
"I know that is the top of my ass but you can't do that. My crack is connected to my.... well you know. I could get a disease."
"Really! I read that. Next you'll be thinking of anal sex."
"You fucking pervert. You are so fucking sick. I can't believe you are even considering that."
"I don't care what you saw on TV or the Internet or in Amsterdam. It is fucking filthy. You fucking sick bastard. Get the fuck out of my bed."
"Kidding? You think that you are funny? Are you fucking joking? You weren't kidding. You're just sick. Just the thought of anal sex makes me sick. And now you've really done it. You wrecked my whole week."
"Bastard. I never said rectum. I said 'wrecked'. See what I mean. You're fucking screwed up. The only thing you think about is perverted sex. I can't believe that we have sex at all."

11. Always pee after sex.
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"I know we just finished but I have to go pee before I get infected."
"My friend told me, that's who. She told me I had to pee right after I have sex."
"She's an nurse, damn it. Don't you believe anything I say?"
"Okay but do it quickly."
"There, are you satisfied? You've had your little hug, cuddle and intimate moment. Now let me go and take a pee. Good night."

12. Nothing that even hints of frolicking like canines.
"No I won't 'flip over'. You can't tell me what to do.
"I know exactly what you're trying to do. You're trying to screw me from behind. That is so degrading."
"People don't screw that way - dogs do. Do I look like a dog?"
"Don't you dare answer that? Fuck! You are unbelievable."
"No, I haven't tried it and I'm not planning to try it. I like to see you head-on so that I can see what your doing."
"Now I'm totally pissed. Turn over start counting sheep."

Seriously, these rules were real - not a word of a lie. I'll admit to some embellishment, like adding a few extra swear words but the rules were very real. I realize now that I was naive but I was in love too. Love can be so blind. I lasted 20 years but the pain kept getting worse. I'm healing now. Huskie helps. And she doesn't look like a dog. She's beautiful.

The Bitch is Loose

2010-09-01T21:28:00.002-05:00

Welcome to my bitching session. My apologies in advance – I need to get the hostility out of my system, then I’ll jump into the juicy stuff.

Wow, I’ve been MIA since April. So I have to explain what has been going on. It’s nothing too crazy; in fact it’s entirely explicable. I feel like my life is out of balance at the moment. I feel like I’m a cleaner with no time to look after myself. It’s been a rollercoaster at work; I’m the workhorse of the office so to speak. They see a mess, throw me at it and assume that everything will be just fine. Unfortunately, I think this strategy has taken its toll on my mental sanity.

Without saying too much, let me describe my team for you and the mess I’m supposed to deal with at the moment. We get a new client through the door and they of course just throw people at the team and assume everything is going to be fine. A few months later they realize the client is about to fire us due to our incompetence. Big surprise! Why is the client trying to fire us….well because we hired a bunch of inbred lunatics in the south….that’s why. I have 2 very senior people on my team. One actually has bleeding ulcers from stress and she was admitted into the hospital today, another is a raving lunatic. She spends her time hoarding work, but not actually getting anything done, portraying herself as a martyr to the client and staying up all night to do lord knows what. What I can say is that she comes to work unwashed and with her clothes inside out. She is a classy gal. My other three team members include a weather girl (not kidding), a 22 year old intern, and a man that looks like he was hit by a bus. These are the face of my company.

I’m waiting for them to do anything coherent or constructive. As a result my 30 member production team is frustrated and my PM staff is about to quit. This is why I can’t sleep at night, this is the reason, I’ve turned into a psychopathic lady with a dual personality. To top it all off, apparently Mr. Vancouver now works for me. Awkward! Actually I’m very over that little tryst, and frankly I don’t have the time or motivation to even think about any of that stuff right now. But ya, he is apparently moving to Chicago, and he is working directly for me on my team. Imagine my surprise when this happened. He arrives in Chicago in about a week…my plan is to not rip his head off during the course of regular business.

What is the irony of this situation….well the only thing that is keeping me sane and also causing me more stress is basically the dog whisperer. Turns out he can drive me crazy and set me over the edge in a heartbeat, but he can also make me feel like I’m sane in an entirely insane situation. I think I would have been deported and shipped back to my homeland if it was not for him and his awful jokes.

So what have we been up to…well I told you last time that we were on the brink of disaster. That was certainly the case. The funny thing is, the more shit I cause, the more I feel like our relationship is solid. This is probably sick and twisted, so please call me out if I need to reevaluate. Let’s see, we have had our fair share of screaming matches, but somehow we always end up back in bed and everything is ok after that. I just need a hug damn it, and he seems to get that when it really matters. I don’t know where this is going, but certainly, we are spending more time together and I do really enjoy those moments.

The summer has blown by and I feel like I haven’t really had my fair share of the action. I did have a chance to visit NYC and a few other places. I’ve been on the road a lot trying to rally the crazies. It’s like chasing rabbits.

Speaking of rabbits, I met this man named Aristotle the other day. No, I’m not kidding. He is one of the Dog Whisperer’s friends. This man is one of the most unique individuals I have ever met. He sort of smells like a damp sponge, his mother clearly still dresses him at the ripe old age of 45 and he still lives with her. When he is not in his backyard watching rabbits (not kidding – this is a self professed hobby he described to me in great detail over a martini), he is in Japan holding his penis as a pistol because apparently this is the only place he can get laid. What a life. Enginerd at home, asset yielding rock star in Asia. Stories like this give me hope.

It’s time to blow this pop stand and get out on vacation. I’ve chosen Bali this year. Perhaps some of that serenity everyone keeps talking about in that Eat prey love crap will rub off on me.

Ok, so that is way enough hostility for one night. That was a lot of random thoughts. I’m hoping to hear your stories and crack a smile. I miss you!

Lost Love, Strippers and Cruising the Caribbean

2010-04-24T22:13:00.013-05:00

Dear Chutney,

You have such interesting tales to tell. I'm glad you're having fun. I love the story about Mrs. Marsha Mallow.

Your relationship with the Dog Whisper sounds less than ideal. It worries me that he is so distracted by work when he is supposed to be spending time with you. That can't be good. About a year ago I read Twilight by by Stephenie Meyer. I liked the book - it was interesting and entertaining. There is one part about a third of the way through that I remember well. Edward and Bella are in a restaurant having coffee or a dinner. There is a very cute waitress waiting on their table but Edward only has eyes for Bella. Focused. Intense. Fascinated. I love that scene. I hope that one day you will find someone that has that much interest in you. You deserve to be the only focus of attention for someone who loves you. I hope it works out with Mr. Vancouver. Keep me posted.

So it is Saturday evening and it is snowing (seriously). I'm at home trying to listen to the radio over Rhino's music which is blaring. I would ask him to turn it down but I'd rather save that request for later when I go to bed. The dog is lying on my feet keeping them warm. Earlier this week Rhino, Giraffe and I got back from a weeks cruise around the Caribbean. More on that later. The significant point at this time is that I'm home alone on a Saturday evening. A little strange but expected since I broke up with Pickles a couple weeks before going on the cruise.

It has been a long time coming. I think I mentioned that I broke up with her once before, after our trip together to New York City. Somehow she lured my back. Actually, I remember exactly how it happened. Before the NYC trip she had invited me to her niece's wedding which was after the trip and I had promised to attend. So I went but reluctantly. However, at the reception I met a few of the women that had attended her niece's stagette which involved lessons pole dancing. What is it with women and pole dancing, without men there? That is just wrong. As you can imagine a bunch of women pole dancing is enough to drive me crazy. And they had pictures! One of the gals who went to the stagette was a young brunette with the most amazing body - think Jennifer Connelly or how about this. The captivating part was that Jennifer-look-a-like had quite a thing for Pickles which apparently started at the pole dancing event. At the end of the evening Pickles and I were leaving and this gal comes up to say goodbye. She gives Pickles a long hug, starts kissing her and is even starting to caress her. Pickles didn't do anything to discourage her and I'm standing right there - weak kneed. I was about to fall over! I'm going nuts dancing from one foot to the other like I have to pee. I can't help thinking of Jennifer Connelly in one of her early movies - yikes. (BTW, my favorite movie with Jennifer Connelly is Blood Diamond.) The end result is that we (just Pickles and I - dang) went back to her place and had wild sex. I was hooked.

But now I have escaped. Honestly. Pickles was starting to express her undying love and I know I didn't have the same feelings so I had to call things off. I have no idea what I'm going to do but I'm sure someone interesting will cross my path. Actually, there is someone but I know it isn't going to work out. I'm gaga and she's not. Okay, I'll tell you a bit about her. I met her at a business event about 6 months ago. Her name is Catherine - brunette, pretty, 5'5", yoga instructor, and smiles. She lost her job sometime after Christmas and called me up to pump me for ideas. So what is wrong, you ask? She's too young. Well not too young for me - rather I'm just too old for her. The topic has never come up but I know that all she wants from me is to help her find a job. In the mean time I'm enjoying her company - give and take. On Thursday we went out for coffee and then for a quick dinner before she flew off to teach. During the 2 hours the only other woman I saw was.... shit I can't remember. I don't think there were any women anywhere. I don't think there were any men either. Who served us dinner? I have no idea. I swear we were the only ones in the coffee shop and the restaurant at 5 in the afternoon. Strange really.

The stagette story wasn't the stripper story so let me set the stage for how I ended up at a strip club. In March our company helped to host a conference. The producer of the conference, Len, is from Sweden and has been doing these conferences for 10 years. To reduce his costs he stayed at my house - in my bed in fact. I suppose that needs a bit of explaining. My house has only 3 bedrooms because I rented out the basement. Rhino sleeps in one room, I sleep in one room and one room is free. But Len brought a friend of his from Finland and he took the spare room. That leaves the living room fold out couch which I slept on. I wanted Len to have my room which is quiet - the Rhino tends to charge around the house at 2 am on a regular basis. Oh, I have to ask you, "What is it about Europeans walking around in their underwear?" Very funny if you ask me.

The conference was great. We had fun, learned a lot and made a profit. On the Thursday night a day after the conference I had arranged to have dinner with one of my gal pals. Unbeknownst to me, Len planned on staying in town a couple extra days - so he stayed with me. Since he was my guest I had no choice to invite him along. Well let me tell you the three of us had so much fun. We drank 2 bottles of Malbec wine then started in on Scotch. After 5 hours we called it a night. Or rather my gal pal called it a night. As Len and I got into my car he suggests going to Hooters but it is like 11:30 pm and I suggest that the restaurant will be closed. Len then suggests a strip joint.

Let me explain that although I have been to strip clubs, I'm not a frequent watcher of peelers. I gave up my reserved parking stall a few years back. To be honest I find the whole experience a bit frustrating - look but don't touch. To prove my point about not being a frequent attender - I got lost getting there. Really. I know where the place is but I had forgotten the exact route. However, we made it, eventually.

I knew Len liked Asian women, in fact his wife is from Thailand, but I was not quite prepared for the intensity of his attraction. Len is a frequenter and apparently his wife ignores his peccadilloes. We walk in and he scans the scene. I did too but my gaze stops at the dance floor as some gal is pulling off her bra and sling shotting it to an gawking admirer. Len spots the only Asian in the building and heads her way. I follow, tripping over chairs, tables, and patrons. We sit down and his eyes haven't left her. She walks by and Len asks her for a beer. She states that this isn't here area so we have to get up and move to her area. I'm stumbling all the way to the other side of the stage, looking like a real idiot, as the stripper is taking off her panties. Do all strippers have a Brazilian shaves? OMG. Luckily there is an empty chair for me to fall into. Damn.

Here we are sitting on gynecological row. I'm staring at some gal with her legs wide apart while the guy on the other side of me is tossing Loonies into a rolled up poster that she is holding. It is shaped like a funnel with the narrow end pointed at her... well use your imagination. I'm asking myself, "How can he aim properly?" I'm nailed to my chair - I can't even move, except for the occasional twitch. You see what I mean? This is torture. But I soldier on, enduring the spasms of pain. Len, in the mean time, can't take his eyes off the Asian waitress who, incidental, has on all her clothes and won't let him touch her (I don't blame her). He keeps buying shooters, 2 or 3 at a time - anything she offers - just to get her to keep coming back. Then - get this - he falls asleep. I'm not kidding. I'm nearly convulsing with excitement, repeatedly tightening my belt so that nothing pops out and he his head starts to bob. Unfuckingbelievable. In my state of duress I try to ignore him but only at my peril. Apparently, strippers don't take too kindly to people snoozing during their show. Eventually, she gets up and stands naked right in front of me. She starts to yell and clap at Len to wake him up. I would love to move my chair away to show that I'm not associated with him but I'm strangely comatose, staring at her fleshy Brazilian, as my chin keeps bouncing off my chest.

Well changing topics, we had a wonderful cruise. I'm telling you a cruise is the best way to have a holiday. Wow. Nearly perfect. If Rhino hadn't whacked Giraffe on the head and inflicted $1,500 worth of stitches, it would have been a very relaxing enjoyable trip. Luckily I had medical insurance. Enjoy the videos:

Jet Skiing in Miami

Liberty of the Seas

Zip Line at Labadee, Haiti

Liberty of the Seas 70s Style

Bob Marley's Records at 9 Mile, Jamaica

Atlantis Submarine in Cozumel Mexico

What happens in Vegas…

2010-04-10T19:17:00.001-05:00

Cocktale, I’m sure you will appreciate the post below, as we are still both on the same quest. I hope you are enjoying your vacation with your boys 

Ok, so I have to tell you that I am a romantic at heart. Every once in a while it seeps out even though generally I maintain my exterior persona of not giving a damn. So this post is for the hope of wild fireworks and the inevitable quest of finding your soul mate. Ok…maybe it’s not so deep. So far it’s a story about guilt, and a bit of animal lust that overtakes you when you are in a dysfunctional relationship. Come on people…we are not dead.

So, last month I had to travel to Las Vegas for work. I decided why not make a vacation out of the trip. It has been a while since I had a few days off and I asked the Dog Whisperer to come out and join me after the work activities were complete. I arrived on a Wednesday, and decided to stay until the following Monday with DW arriving early Friday morning.

So, what did we do? In typical work fashion, we drank obscenely, gambled (which I normally don’t do, but I did learn how to play a few decent rounds of Black Jack). On Thursday night, we rented a limo, went out for a swanky dinner, headed to the strip for a fun night on the town. There were about 10 of us on this escapade including the company brass. As the night progressed, we kept getting drunker and drunker. Of course, I was oblivious to what was going on around me.

About half way through the evening, I realized that I was sitting next to a very handsome man from Vancouver. He was a co-worker and as you know I have already played my hand at the inter-office love affair so I tried to maintain my distance. Later on in the evening, sparks were flying, we were talking about everything and all I wanted to do was lean over and kiss him. I was a good girl, I hung back and let him kiss give me a peck on the lips instead. I promptly went back to my hotel room without him and told him to talk to me if he was ever in my city.

I woke up the next morning feeling absolutely awful. I was hungover, that was part of the problem. Also DW was schedule to arrive in less than an hour. I hauled my ass to the airport, met him and handed him the rental car keys as I was still too drunk to drive. We did a little road trip which was fun, but seriously, all I could think of was the guilt from Mr. Vancouver. We did end up having a good time, but he was distracted as normal due to his obscene work load.

Three days later, we parted ways at the airport. He headed back to the city via one airport and I another. The trip back was the most entertaining. I met a couple Marsha and Jack. They were both well into their 70s and had been together for the last 27 years. Marsha had married late in life and she had difficulty committing to a man in her youth. She told me about her love affairs with the various good men in her life and how Jack had ultimately won her heart. She told me about how Mr. Mallow had courted her in the early days and how although they were together for 4 years, she could never walk down the aisle with him. She met Jack and she knew instantly that she was going to marry the most handsome man in the bar that evening. Also, she told me she couldn’t stand the thought of being called Mrs. Marsha Mallow. No, seriously, I’m not even making this up. Life is stranger than fiction I tell you.

Anyway, she tells me about their trips to Vegas and how she has a hobby of getting bouncers to let her sneak into clubs and taking her camera with her. She likes to photograph people in compromising positions in the Vegas bars. She waits till the lights flash to take the picture. She showed me a few. I probably should have reported her to the police, but she won me over with her charm and I could sort of relate to the lady. I have to tell you, the flight home was the shortest 3 hours of my life. I had a great time and I even let them both hang onto me when we were landing. It was kinda cute.

So where is my story going….well, I received an email 3 days ago letting me know that Mr. Vancouver is moving to my city. Isn’t life fun ;)

Chutney

Confessions

2010-03-08T01:46:00.000-06:00

Dearest Chutney,

Thanks for the update. Blessings on you. Life is busy for me as well. But the sun is shining more and winter is almost over. Today you are going to be my confessor as I share some of my dark deep secrets - stories really. Enjoy.

Extravagance
You mentioned the sweet word "vacation". Did I tell you I booked a cruise? Well I have. Me and the lads leave April 9th for Miami and seven days floating around the Caribbean. It is extravagant but it has been about 4 years since I have taken a luxurious holiday. In 2006, I took the lads to Cuba. We had a wonderful time there and I'm pretty sure we will this time. I've asked a lot of other cruisers and all of them have said they loved it. I can't wait.

Bitterness
Speaking of taking the boys on a trip, my ex has never taken them anywhere in the last 5 years. She and her sister took them to Disneyland when they were young but nothing in recent years. I think the most Spandex has done is take them north to visit her mother. It is possible that she has offered to take them on a trip and they refused but I can't remember them ever mentioning that.

I harbor quite a bit of bitterness toward her. It eats away at me sometimes. Son #1, Rhino, has an appointment with the dentist in a week or so. I booked it a year ago. Usually I would just take him and tell her en route but one of the professors at a local university wants me to make a presentation to her class. I agreed but it conflicts with the dentist appointment. So I sent an email to her highness to see if she could take him. Her exact response was, " I can’t take him -- I don’t remember scheduling this. I am guessing that he won’t go on his own as he doesn’t care much about this so you may need to reschedule. If you want me to take him to appointments I need at least 6 weeks’ notice or might be easier if I schedule the things that I will be taking him to." Can you believe that? I have to ask her 6 weeks in advance to take her son to a medical appointment. That is nuts. What kind of mother needs 6 weeks to schedule time take her son to the dentist? Besides I sent her an email a year ago with the date of the appointment. When I reminded her of that, her response was "Yes, but I didn't see a request for me to take him."

Brick Lane
Funny you should bring up Brick Lane. I just finished reading it a month ago and I saw the movie a few years ago. I joined a book club that had picked that book to read. I joined the group because I like to read and I rarely get a chance to talk with others about what I read. So this was a good opportunity and besides I thought this might be a good opportunity to meet some new women. What a mistake that assumption was. I finished the book on the Saturday afternoon before the group meeting. I drove for what seemed like an hour to some God forsaken community way up northeast. I was welcomed at the door by 2 of the ugliest women in the city. These two seemed to go out of their way to be fat, homely and titless. Sorry for my poor view of humanity but sometimes some people just bother me. One was about 40 and still living with her parents. Who lives with their parents when they are 40? The other one, who owned the house we were meeting in, had a little dog. And you know what I think of yappy little ball biters. Two other women showed up which should have improved my odds but didn't. One gal was tall and easier on the eyes but she lived with her mother. What is wrong with people? The other gal was friendly and chatted with me quite a bit. She was recently separated. I considered offering her my "re-bound" services but she was over 50 and made me nervous. The only thing worse than 40 year old cougars is 50 year old lionesses. I just sat through the meeting holding my book on my lap, covering my fragile balls.

I'm glad to tell you that I survived the evening. I left alone - happily alone. Their review of Brick Lane was lame. The gal who chose the book started the discussion by saying she didn't like it. What's not to like? It is a good novel. The characters are well defined, unusual and interesting. The story is about skating on ice and escaping bondage. Here's my take.

Young gal moves from Bangladesh to London to live with her new husband. As you mentioned, it is an arranged marriage. She's not happy and he is under employed. All I can think about is that he is a lucky stiff - she's young, obliging and unlikely to break the marriage. Of course, I can't say this in a room full of cougars and lions - I value my life. The couple has a son who dies. Tragic. They have two daughters. Beautiful. The husband borrows money to buy a sewing machine for the wife. Young handsome guy drops off material for her to sew. The wife has an affair with him. Again I'm thinking, shit the guys in this novel are lucky. Free sex and no obligations. What more can you ask for? This is perfect. Husband probably knows about the affair but doesn't say anything and why should he, she's a pretty good cook, gave him 2 daughters and she doesn't seem to be leaving. But cracks in the relationship are starting to widen. The family has a great outing to a museum (I love that part of the book). This experience builds up the husband's sense of power. So he creates a plan to go back to Bangladesh. Unfortunately, he has to borrow more money. With the money he books a flight for all 4 family members. This is the turning point in the story that leads to the wife's freedom from debt, bondage and tradition. I'm thinking that I would love to be free but in a den of cats I keep my opinions to myself. The remainder of the novel is about how the wife escapes. First, she confronts the loan shark with the bullying sons and wins. Next she dumps her boyfriend. Finally just before the flight takes off, she abandons her husband so that she can stay in London with her daughters who don't want to leave anyway.The ending of the novel is perfect. She is goes ice skating with her female friend. Free at last. What's not to like?

Impotence
Speaking of ugly, impotence is an ugly topic. Let me see if I can set this up without freaking myself out. Pickles and I are still hanging out. We do things together and every chance she gets she hauls me off to some bedroom to strip me naked. I should be loving this but I'm so conflicted that sometimes my noodle is al-dante. Either I'm getting too picky or maybe I'm just getting old or maybe it is her. Regardless, I feel guilt because I can't do the nasty with the lights on. A few years ago I was with another 48+ gal who always wanted to run around the house naked - even in the kitchen - with the windows open. I feared for the neighbors. There are some sights that should not be seen. She was over weight and had one breast that pointed down. I suppose gravity has an effect on every woman's breasts and they eventually start to point south. But just one? That was a bit freaky. To keep from going cross eyed I had to turn out the lights. This was after I was separated. I lasted 3 weeks with her.

Now it's the same with Pickles. When she starts her "sexy" striptease I just shudder and not from excitement. I cringe. I never thought I would be this selective. 10 or 20 years ago I could have fuck anything - a watermelon, a duck, a whore, a ... well you get the idea. I'm not saying I did all those things - I'm saying I could have - physically. Even older women were appealing. Sexy MILFs with a bit if mileage and a lot of experience. Sounded good to me. Now when these grannies (or soon to be grannies) start their dance, I start looking for the light switch. I think I'm going to have to go to a strip club. I need to test the equipment and see if I'm getting old or if it is old women that make my hardware floppy. I hope it is that latter.

Double Dipping
So you want to hear about Valentines weekend? Okay, I'll admit that I wanted to do a bit of double dipping. I don't really believe in double dipping unless it is with 2 consenting gals in the same room at the same time - still one of my top 10 fantasies. I didn't actually double dip but I sure considered it. As you may have so astutely picked up, my brain is pickled. I didn't really mean to start another adventure it just sort of happened. I got an email from POF. Usually I just delete them because I don't have time to torture my brain. But I clicked and logged on. Within 10 minutes someone sent me a note. Seriously, I was the hunted not the hunter. She said that we had similar interests and she liked that. I'm thinking okay lady let's go for it. So I reply with a list of all her interests and comments about our similarities. I thought I was pretty quick and pretty smart. She replied. I replied and asked if she was interested in going for drink. She replied - affirmative. We met at an Irish bar a couple days later. She's nice, kinda cute, not gorgeous but livable. We arrange to go to a movie. We have fun. But I made some comment about buying Rhino some smokes. She asks me if I smoke. I reply in the negative but add that I have a puff on a cigar once in a while. She nearly freaks out explaining that her Dad died from lung cancer. I'm thinking this is a bit odd because we don't even have a relationship and she is already worried about me dieing. This should have been a clue. Nonetheless, I let things rest for about a week just so she doesn't think I'm desperate. I ask her to come to a gig that some friends in a band are having. He plays lead guitar in a blues band. It's Friday night before Valentines Day. To be on the safe side, I reserve that day to have dinner with Pickles. Lucky thing I did because Twinkle Toes (I can't even remember her name) is a horror story. I get to the bar and wait a 1/2 hour or so. She comes late. I'm trying to be nice so I had picked up some roses for her. When she eventually arrives I tell her I have a gift for her when she leave. She literally sneered and stated that Valentines day was a crock of shit and just a ploy by companies to get people to buy chocolates, flowers, cards and dinners. I was shocked. I mean she is correct but I still like Valentines Day. It is fun. So what if companies make a bit of money on the event. That is what life is all about. Spending money and having fun. Luckily the band was loud because things were uncomfortable. I gave her the flowers when we left. They were blood red and thorny. Just what she deserved. The bitch.

The Little Brick Road of Life

2010-02-15T21:46:00.002-06:00

Hey Cocktail,

First and foremost, I owe you an apology for dropping off the face of this earth. The last few weeks have been really difficult. Not for any reason aside from its cold outside and I’m tired of this weather. Or perhaps, I’m just tired of being out here without my family. Maybe it’s because I’m getting tired of the mundane routine of work and sleep I have been confined to lately. I’m looking forward to the sun, I’m looking forward to a vacation or something magical to happen.

Fantasies aside, your last post moved me quite deeply although it did also leave me feeling a little more confused. I have seen many different depictions of love over time and the question of classification never gets easier. I was watching a movie recently called Brick Lane and it illustrates your concept of instant love vs earned love very well. The protagonist is an innocent girl from a Bengali village and she is sent to London to marry a middle aged man she is not very fond of. The story centers around the fantasy she creates about the life she left behind and an idealistic vision on love until she is abruptly brought back to reality and finds her voice.

I have read the Namesake and have seen a beautiful production of the Overcoat by Gogol. An interesting message here for sure (at least my interpretation), perhaps the things we believe we need are the same ones that destroy us - just like the overcoat or for some of us instant love.

Sometimes I think my parents were fortunate. They never had to deal with the dating games and just settled into each other after an arranged marriage in their late teens. I suppose they are part of the fortunate few that learned to love and appreciate each other over time. They never had the opportunity to experiment with instant love, so it wasn’t something they sought after. They just accepted the fact that life was planned and they had a duty to fulfill to their parents.

That being said, if you have had the opportunity to experience instant love, perhaps we are really out there searching for a mirage of what love really is. One of my best friends, Amy, is dating at the moment. She is looking for that jaw dropping feeling that comes with instant love. She is looking for incomprehensible passion, unbelievable sex and of course the constant butterflies. Unfortunately, this approach hasn’t resulted in anything long-term for her even though she has been trying for quite some time. I'm hoping there are some cases of success out there, but I'm more inclined to believe that love is like anything else in life and you have to work for it. I'm holding out for earned love and hopefully I'm on the right path, although I still have my doubts on a regular basis.

Well enough about me…I want to know more about the text message you sent me the other day. It sounds like Cocktail has got his groove back. You going to have to fill me in and let me know what is going on with you!! I’m excited to hear about your latest adventures.

As always, lots of love,
Chutney :)

Types of Love and Books I've Read

2009-12-26T12:08:00.051-06:00

I understand your dilemma regarding the Dog Whisperer. You think you love him; you want to love him but you're not sure - not quite there. Tough spot to be in. Torture actually.

As you might have guessed I have experienced many types of love. Allow me to be analytical and explain what I mean.

Instant love happens quickly and unexplainably. It is pure and clean. It isn't always safe or secure but it is strong and undeniable. Instant love is like infatuation but with slightly more maturity and longevity (but not much). Infatuation is when you see someone and get weak in the knees and say Wow, fuck is she cute. But that's it - short and sweet but it vanishes just as quickly. Instant love involves passion and touch, more like ripping off garments and grabbing various body parts - all hormones. The problem with instant love is that it doesn't last very long. Usually it lasts only until the next match comes along and lights your candle.

There is another kind of love that I call convenient love. I'm afraid this is probably where Pickles and I may end up. It isn't true love, it is just a relationship based on convenience. Like instant love the key ingredient is sex - all passion and great sex but the relationship lasts longer. The love part, however, is just a facade - no depth. The relationship between Ben (Nicolas Cage) and Sera (Elizabeth Shue) in Leaving Los Vegas is like this. Lots of books and movies demonstrate this type of love. The love is not deceitful it is just hollow. My first girlfriend and I had this type of relationship. Fun while we were naked but empty with our clothes on.

My parents had what I call cooperative love. I never got the feeling that they were "madly in love" but their love survived. They entertained, parented, worked and existed together but it wasn't a love or marriage that I wanted to emulate. They lived together and got along - most of the time. There were times especially after we moved to Canada that their relationship was dysfunctional and destructive. Culture shock, raising teenagers, lack of money and other pressures (like religion) overwhelmed them and ripped their relationship apart but they never divorced. Now that I think of it this sounds like my marriage until it fell apart. At least my Dad held in there until my Mom died about 11 years ago. I don't think she was the easiest person to live with or to love.

Along the love continuum is the type of love that your parents have. I call it earned love. It grows over time, usually a long time. It is probably the strongest type of love. Earned love involves respect, patience and commitment. It has less to do with looks and hormones and more to do with listening, understanding, caring and forgiving.At times my marriage had hints of earned love but then it would just fall apart. It is hard to have earned love without reciprocation and I often felt like I was giving without getting anything that I wanted back.

There is another type of love that most people search for but rarely find. It is what I call soulmate love. About 18 months after my Mom died, my Dad remarried a wonderful woman. I have no doubt that they are soulmates. Strangely, they knew each other long ago, before either one was married. Dad asked her out but she was already engaged so their relationship never developed until 45 years later. Isn't love wonderful? This type of love is really a combination of the other types of love. It is instant, it is convenient, it is cooperative and it is earned. Most love stories are about people trying to find this type of love.

My short and simple answer to know if you are in love with a soulmate is that you will know it - you can't help it. There will be no hesitation, no reluctance, no doubt, no question. It just is. It is mutual consent, entwined with passion and commitment. Do you remember the description that I gave to you in Chicago? You know you have found your soulmate when you touch each others' necks and you can feel your hearts beating together - perfectly synchronized.

As you know, I love reading fiction. I'll share with you some of the books I've read and see if I can give more definition to love.

The English Patient by Michael Onjaatje (Canadian)

I saw the movie first, years ago, when I was married. Spandex didn't like the movie because the love story involved adultery. I loved the story for exactly the same reason. I confess that I was considering an affair but I never did. I came close with an old flame - that was hot. In the novel, love materializes the moment when Count Laszlow (Ralph Fiennes) touches the tender depression near Katharine's (Kristin Scott Thomas) clavicle. At the time I wanted so much to be in love. I wasn't but I was trying and failing. Later, my older son bought the book for me - I still have it, somewhere. No question that this is an example of instant love with a slim chance the lovers eventually become soul mates but this isn't guaranteed - instant love never is.

Eat, Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

After her divorce, the author describes her yearlong travels to Italy, then India and finally to Indonesia. Chick lit but I liked it. The meditation part was a bit thick but her experiences in Italy and Bali where she falls in love are wonderful. Her marriage sounds like convenient love and her relationship in Bali might be instant love or cooperative love but she didn't convince me that it was soulmate love.

Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin

I think you suggested that I read this book but a few other friends did too. So I bought it. I cried for at least 2 chapters. Greg Mortenson is originally from the same country that I lived in in Africa. The parallels and memories tore me apart. Greg Mortenson has contributed so much to the lives of children, especially girls, in Pakistan. I also cried when Greg describes falling in love with Tara Bishop - 6 days later they get married. At first glance this may appear to be instant love but I'm sure that it is soulmate love that will survive for the long term. I admire every part of Greg. He is absolutely my hero.

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer

Action packed love story - instant love - and all the rage. Teenage girl falls in love with a vampire. I liked reading about the tension that Edward has for Bella. He wants to love her and kiss her but he risks biting her which he doesn't want to do. There are a few women I'd like to bite, although not because I'm in love. I also read New Moon too but I haven't seen the movie, yet. Classic story of 2 guys battling over a cute gal.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Strictly a guy's book, or so I'm told by some of the reviews that I read. I haven't seen the movie but I have too because Charlize Theron is in it. Actually, she is my soulmate, she just hasn't figured it out yet. I know she will - I'm actually waiting for her phone call. Sometimes finding a soulmate requires patience - she'll come around eventually. I'm sure. Soulmates can't live without each other. Destiny prevails, just wait and see.

Honeymoon with My Brother by Franz Wisner

Another guy's book but very good; all about traveling. Definitely not about soulmate love. Guy gets dumped by fiancée a week before wedding, has big party instead, drags brother on already booked Costa Rica "honeymoon", and eventually convinces brother to travel around the world with him. Great travel story. I loved it.

The Skystone (The Camulod Chronicles) by Jack Whyte (Canadian)

I'm reading this series now. True adventure and great story telling. All about King Arthur although he hasn't entered into the story and I'm on the 3rd novel. Soon, I hope.

A Million Little Pieces by James Frey

About a guy recovering from various drug addictions. Absolutely brilliant. Having dealt with a few additions of my own (but not alcoholism). Lots of controversy about whether this book was fiction or not. To me his relationship with Lilly as described in the book is one of convenience.

Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett

Great novel set in the middle ages. There is a love story but a little contrived. A good story though.

Blindness by Jose Saramago

What would you do if everyone in the world went blind except you? Brutal story. A bit about love but not much. Tough to be in love when you are just trying to survive although I think it is possible.

Fall on Your Knees by Ann-Marie MacDonald (Canadian)

I loved this book, wow. I can't remember if there was love or not in this book. I just remember incredible characters and a great story.

I Know this Much is True by Wally Lamb

Not the best title but a fantastic book. I couldn't figure out what the title had to do with the brutal story. Again I'm not sure this novel had much to do with true love but it was an interesting read.

Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt

Another brutal book describing terrible conditions in Ireland but I liked the book. For some strange reason I seem to read a lot of books that have "brutal" as and adjective. Must have something to do with my childhood. Parent in the book definitely have cooperative love; they aren't soulmates.

Love the One You're With by Emily Giffin

It took me an hour to remember the title of this book. This is classic chick lit but I loved it. I picked this up in an airport. It doesn't end how you would expect. Convenient love doesn't always work. Soulmate love is stronger. Soulmates are for life.

Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson (Canadian)

A very different story; like nothing you have ever read before. Tragic and beautiful. I may read this one again. Brutal car accident and fire in the beginning. The love story is about soulmates who find each other after centuries of time.

Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

Interesting. Another story involving soulmates and traveling across time, similar to Gargoyle but different. I read that the movie wasn't that good but I liked the book.

The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks

I loved the book; the movie was okay but not great. Great story about soulmates. When we were married my ex-wife didn't want to see the movie with me. I couldn't believe it - that was the start of our demise. I wanted so much to be in love but it just wasn't working. Her not wanting to go really pissed me off. I never recovered from those cuts on my heart.

Message in A Bottle by Nicholas Sparks

Same author. Pretty good but a little corny. After this book, I didn't read any more of his books. At that point in my life I had lost all hope of ever finding a soul mate. I'm still lost.

Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri

This is the Indian movie that we went to a few years ago. It was fantastic. I haven't read the book so I just ordered it. Female author - I didn't know that. The story is about a second generation Indian who is smart but has trouble with relationships. Sound familiar? You should read the Editorial Reviews on Amazon.

A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry

Another Indian author. You told me about this book.Thanks. Wow what a story. Thrilling. The Beggarmaster character is fascinating and tragic. I fell for Dina - what a saint.

Helen of Troy by Margaret George

Absolutely loved this book. Helen is my favorite female in antiquity. Another lost soulmate of mine. She sets my ships sailing. The love between Paris and Helen is all about instant love - destine to end in tragedy.

Mary, Called Magdalene by Margaret George

I read this book by the same author; also very good. There are only a few references to Mary Magdalene in the Gospels so most of this story is imagined, very well imagined. For centuries, she was considered to be a prostitute as declared by Pope Gregory and only in recent years, (1969) was she given more appreciation. The Vatican quietly changed the scripture reading from Luke 7:36-39 (Jesus Anointed by Sinful Women) to John 20:1-2, 10-12 (Jesus Appears to Mary Magdalene). Regardless, I love the song in Jesus Christ Superstar where Mary (Yvonne Elliman) sings I Don't Know How to Love Him. I think I listen to the video about 30 times while writing this post. Love it.

Which brings me to the last type of love - frustrated love. This is what Mary experiences with Jesus. She wants to love him. In fact she does love him. He moves her but he doesn't show any inclination to love her back. At least not in the way that she wants him to love her.

Got to go. The phone is ringing. I'm sure it is Charlize calling. I've sent her my phone number a few times and I have her on speed dial. Up to now, my love for her has been a little frustrating because she never calls back but finally she has recognized her true feelings for me. I'm smitten. This is true love and she is my soulmate. I just know it.

Talk to you soon.

Cocktale

P.S. Thanks for the dinner, the dancing, the scarf, the gloves and your friendship.

The long road to recovery

2009-12-22T12:17:00.001-06:00

Ah Mr. Daniels….how many nights I have spent sleeping in a shopping cart with you. Ok, it only happened one time, but that was enough. Anyway, I would like to take this time to advise the people out there (on the off chance we actually have a reader) that alcohol abuse is NOT a good way to make your life gel even if it is part of your job description. We may drink a fair amount but as my boss told me the other day, there comes a point when you have to decide for yourself if you are an alcoholic. Albeit he may have come to the realization at last year’s Christmas party when he used our co-worker as a mop after he spilled a full beer on her, fell on top of her and was trying to help her up.

Anyway, I know that you don’t have a problem with the liquor even though you are blaming me LOL. Actually based on your last post, you may have a problem with the ladies, but we already knew that. You have way too many on the go, and even I am losing track of who’s who in the zoo. It was good to see you the other night over dinner and of course salsa dancing. It was very nice to finally meet pickles as well. I can truly understand how she is still hanging in there. I liked her a lot. She was kind; she was very patient and extremely considerate. She was very carefully observing what was going on at the table and was careful to ensure that everyone was included and having a good time. I really liked her and I can understand why she is still in your life.

It’s a wonder to my how falling in love is an actual process. I understand that there are people out there that fall in love after a glance and they live together for 50 mostly blissful years, but I don’t think this is always the case. Take the arranged marriage for example, my parents had one, so I’m well versed in day to day observation on this phenomenon. They have been together for 30 years. They spend the majority of their time together (they work together), but over the years they have learned to like and even love each other. Now, I know this was not always the case. They are very different people, but when my grandparents decided they were a good match, they took education, family, money, life goals into consideration. Many times these basic fundamentals escape us when we are going through our own process. Sometimes the people with the characteristics you should be looking for aren’t the ones that turn your crank, so we don’t give them the proper shot. This was definitely the case with my ex husband.

Anyway, this brings me to my current dilemma….why do I have a nagging feeling that there isn’t something right in the current situation I’m in with DW. Is it because I like him and I’m shallow about what I shouldn’t be, or is it because I really like him and I am just scared about what it means to commit and I’m making excuses. You would think I would know the answer to this question, but I swear I have no idea! How can I not know how I feel? Actually, I think there are a lot of us walking around the planet suffering from completely paralyzing confusion. If there weren’t Maury and Jerry Springer certainly wouldn’t have such colorful careers.

So much for a quirky post about relationships LOL. For some reason, I’m more confused than ever and I just don’t have any crazy stories to share today. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy and enjoying my time, but I am going to spend some time and see if I can dig up some answers. Wait, maybe I do have a quick story….perhaps this seriousness was sparked by his use of the L word. Lord, I can’t even write it down. He basically dropped it in passing…I can’t even remember what our conversation was about. I may have been in shock. He said it…and I didn’t answer. I just looked at him with a dumb look on my face hoping the entire situation would go away. Anyway, I feel like I owe him some answers. I am going to spend a bit of time searching for those answers and maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll have them in time for the New Year. Can’t wait for 2010 baby….gonna hit an age milestone and I’m more than ok with turning 30.

Wish you all the best over the holidays and we will certainly chat soon. Btw…I will certainly post any epiphanies should I run into them. Tag – you’re it!

Chutney

Pumpkins and Women in My Life

2009-12-04T20:19:00.050-06:00

Okay, so I'll admit I'm wasted. It started with red wine at dinner with son #1 and my renter who joined us for steak and potatoes. Now things have progressed on to bourbon (which is actually whiskey as it later turns out - I'll explain). The red wine is probably no surprise to you but the bourbon might have you questioning my sanity. Of course, you're the cause of my excessive drinking but you knew that. Actually, it all started with your friend, Spindle, since you introduced us. Let me clarify and elaborate.

As you may remember, Spindle came to my place on Halloween with Sparky and some of my friends. We had a great time eating, carving pumpkins, laughing, eating, and later munching on baked pumpkin seeds. It was fun. The next day after Halloween, I had lots of pumpkins so I thought I would salvage the meaty parts and make a pie. Which I did but I had a couple cups of left over pumpkin. I intended to make another pie but never got around to it.

Later in November my younger son wanted to have a birthday party with his cousin in the other city. Both have a birthday on the same day (years apart). So I thought, perfect, I'll go up a bit early, take the pumpkin and make a pumpkin pie for both lads. I almost accomplished that task. I grabbed the cream in the fridge and the recipe but for some strange reason forgot to grab the pumpkin which was on the shelf below the cream - strange really. So in the other city, at my Dad's place, I made a apple pie which turned pretty well. But then when I got home I still had the pumpkin.

Well this week was my business partner's birthday so I thought, great, I'll bake him a cake. He hates desserts but loves cheesecakes so I did a little research and came up with Pumpkin Bourbon Cheesecake. I don't even know what bourbon is so I thought this would be a great opportunity to learn - first hand. So I went to the store and with the store keeper's recommendation purchased a bottle of Jack Daniel's Old No. 7. Of course, Jack Daniel's isn't actually bourbon but that is what I was sold by that idiot at the liquor store. Now I have to go and by a bottle of real bourbon. Anyway the JD is nice stuff. I'm surprised I have any left for tonight but here I am sipping away - straight, not even any ice.

That is how I got started on JD whiskey. Apparently it is made in Kentucky. It's filtered through sugar maple charcoal. I'm blabbing.

Right. So back to the main topic - women. Let me update you.

I mentioned Jasmine before. She is the Jewish gal - older - fun - reminds me of my mother - kissing is not pretty. We teach together and the other day we went for a drink after class. In passing she suggested that I come over and "play". What kind of language is that? I remind her that we had that option once but nothing happened. We then reminisced about the night I was over at her place and it was so cold at 2 am that my car wouldn't start. Wow. What a wonderful opportunity. Jasmine was happy to have me stay over. We crawled into bed. We kissed and ...... nothing. I tried my entire play book and nothing. She just laid there like a log. So we are reminiscing about what happened and she told me she was still waiting. WTF? Am I stupid or just totally out to lunch? The only thing I can figure out is that I like a bit of reciprocity - some give and take - something warmer than a cold limp fish. As far as I know her invitation to come over and "play" is still open. Sometimes I entertain the thought.

Cartwheels is AWOL. I have no idea what happened to her - she's just gone. But I couldn't give a rat's ass. She captivated my mind for nearly a year and then vanished. Fuck.

Spandex, my ex, actually made a joke in an email (our only form of communication - her choice) this week. Maybe she is finally coming out of her menopausal spin. What a fucking nightmare that was. I wish her the best but I can't even laugh at her humor. She just pisses me off.

Pickles is still hanging around. She's not my first choice for a lover but she seems to stick to me like semen on a blue dress. She loves sex which is wonderful. God, I wish my ex-wife had the same interest and motivation - that would have been nice - maybe we would still be together - heaven forbid the thought. Not that I care now but while we were married fantastic sex would have been nice.

Back to Pickles. I made a tragic error a few weeks ago. Pickles was over for the night. I thought I would get romantic and burn some candles. I think I mentioned that she is not Helen of Troy (my favorite woman in antiquity) or Charlize Theron (my favorite female celebrity). Anyways, I lit two candles to throw a little light around the room.

I should clarify that skinny women freak me out. This is because my ex was very thin. When she was a teenager she even had a diagnosis of anorexia. As a teenager and young adult I succumbed to societal pressures and fell in love with a thin woman. I didn't mind - she had nice attributes. But now that I'm divorced I can't even imagine going out with someone who is rail thin. I have had a couple dates with thin women and I just freak out as soon as I see them. Now I screen them out.

However, on the opposite side of the scale, over weight women are just non starters for me. I don't mind having fat chicks as friends but I doubt I can fall in love with someone who is quite over weight. My cut off point (got to love that phrase) is having an apron. I just can't get excited about an apron. I pretty sure Pickles has one or close to one but I can't look. I just can't face reality. I'd rather close my eyes and fantasize about Charlize Theron . As you may have guessed, lighting the candles was a huge mistake. I almost saw her naked. God, what a sick fuck I am. Why did God make me this way?

I'm in such a bind. Skinny gals freak me out and fat gals turn me off. What am I suppose to do? Oh and to really limit my options, I have the other issue which I've mentioned before. I can't get excited about older women either - they remind me of my mother.

I'm hooped. What's a guy to do?

Well, let me carry on with a few more women in my life. Actually, one is a group of females. Sounds nice, eh? Well, not really. I call them The Three Musketeers where I'm d'Artagnan. Sherri is the mother, Mya is the daughter and Tutu is the Goldendoodle. I see them walking on my street all the time. Sometimes we stop and chat when I'm walking Kharma or when I'm coming home from work. They are all very nice. I suspect that there isn't a Mr. Sherri but I don't know for sure. I think that Sherri had a painful experience with someone (who hasn't). Sherri wears nice hats in cold weather. She smiles and talks to me. She walks Mya to a nearby before-school-place and then picks her up after work. I respect her. I think she is a good mother. I like her but haven't tried to connect. But I would like too.

Then there is Ivy. I met her a few weeks ago when I was a guest presenter for a friend's (Doug) marketing class. Actually, I hardly met Ivy even though she was one of the students. The person I remembered was her "husband", Zie; he gave me his business card. I sent him an email, as I always do, but he never replied. Then I went to a networking function this week and saw him again. It took me a while to figure out who he was but I did make the connection. But then he left - early. I chatted with my friend, Doug. He introduced me to this good looking women called Ivy and reminded me that she had taken his class. I said Hi and then remembering the connection, I mentioned to Ivy that I had seen Zie earlier. She said that they had broken up and he came to the event to check up on her. She said this with disgust, then added that they had broken up. I was somewhat surprised but Zie hadn't impressed me. I'm sure he is an important business man - with a small dick. I despise guys like that. Not the small dick part. I could careless about their anatomy. It's their "I'm better than you" attitude that just irritates me. My theory is that men who are short or who have small dicks have to prove themselves. Their arrogant attitude is a compensation for their small dicks. I just want to whip mine out and say, see I'm bigger than you so shut the fuck up and go away. Of course, I'll never know who is bigger because I'm not in a habit of unfolding mine in public. But the thought is there.

So Ivy and I exchanged cards. She sent me an email that night thanking me for the people that I introduced her to. I replied with an invitation for coffee sometime. We met today. I hardly got a word in edgewise. She just talked - I listened. She is interesting. I didn't like all the funky new age spiritual crap but she is interesting. She is pretty. She likes to travel. She is fun. She likes friendships. She's pretty - did I mention that? She's going to make me a pumpkin martini - sounds interesting. I wonder how many we will drink?

Thanks for the email today - a blessing. Looking forward to dinner later in December. Safe travels.

Cocktale

A World of Dating Options

2009-11-23T17:01:00.002-06:00

Cocktale, how do you keep it all straight? So I have received several messages from you as of late confusing the women in your life. I have to tell you, it is certainly very amusing, and as long as it doesn’t backfire, I say do it!!! Not the best advice, I know, but come on, we only live once and it makes for entertaining stories later :). This brings me to my next story…

A couple of years back I was a dating machine and I definitely learned my lesson the hard way. I was seeing a few guys and I liked them all. Basically, I wanted to take characteristics from them all and turn them into the perfect man. Alas, I am still waiting for Mr. Right, but Mr. Close seems to be keeping my attention (we went to San Fran last week, but that is a different story).

Anyway, at the time, I was seeing a salsa dancing surgeon, Emilio, and I was also flirting with a male model who did overseas work for BCBG. I met Emilio online – he was handsome, he was very intelligent and he also had some very nice other assets (yes I went there). Add the fact that he was a salsa dance instructor in his spare time and you have a genuine lady magnet. The problem was that he knew it! He could not keep it in his pants to save his life. 3 failed marriages, and one daughter later, he was reassessing his life on the dating scene. Again, another big fail, but here is still hoping to you Emilio! I believe he is on marriage number 4 as of last month.

I met BCBG at a bar one night. He was a very odd looking man. Very tall, and quite thin with an angular face. He basically spent the evening staring me down in the bar. I normally don’t respond well to this approach, but he did eventually muster enough courage to ask if he could buy me a drink with his English accent. I have to tell you, I am an absolute sucker for an accent so I did accept. Turns out he was a model visiting his family and he wanted a persnal tour guide. I was happy to oblige for a few dates anyway.

Well, I basically ended up going out with both of them a few times. Emilio, I spent a lot more time with as I am a complete sucker for a man that can dance. BCBG I had been out with a couple of times, but I would not say I was captivated by the man. I had an understandable fascination with his career, but he seemed to be completely bi-polar and overly emotional. He is the reason I have a rule not to date models, actors or professional athletes. He was really quite insane as things turned out.

Once night, I decided that I should plan a quick drink with Emilio, then head out to the bar with BCBG. The drinks with Emilio were great, I was really quite sorry to leave him. I headed to the bar to meet BCBG. About an hour into the evening, who do I see walk into the bar….Emilio. This is when all hell broke loose. It became quite evident that I liked Emilio more. I wanted to explain the situation to Emilio as of course, he was curious as to why I was at the bar with another man when I just blew him off to go to a friends birthday party. Emilio being the "playa" that he is found the entire evening hilarious. On the other hand, BCBG went crazy and I was forced to leave the bar shortly after being confronted by him.

BCBG called me over a hundred times that night and parked his car in front of my house. Model = crazy…take note…this is important. Anyway, after weeks of deflecting calls, BCBG sent me a note indicating that he was saying goodbye to the world. He sent me a CD and a note. I ignored both. A week later I got a call from his brother telling me that he was dead. Ok…good times, now I am a total wreck. Well it turns out that models are absolutely insane. The guy is alive and well and still posting new status updates on facebook.

Anyway, I guess the moral of this story is not really not to date multiple people at the same time as everything was fine up to that point, but more to avoid bi-polar zoolander look alike models. You get the idea. So work it, and I hope it goes well. You may not want to have multiple dates on the same night and start a notebook with conversational details with each lady. I find it helps after a few dates LOL. Happy fishing!

On a side note, I’m coming home very soon, so I expect that we will have a wine date shortly. I can’t wait!!

Chutney

Compliments from Friends

2009-11-01T17:37:00.003-06:00

Dearest Chutney,

I loved hearing about your trip to India. I am envious (although not about the crying part). Oh to have gone with you but alas I am still stuck in the city. Sorry to hear you are having an extended ride on the emotional roller coaster. Sometimes I have to force myself to remember that tears are often from heaven and they help to shower your soul clean from all the dirt of life. I am giving you a long distance virtual hug.

Speaking of hugs. I have to tell you about one that I had recently that scored a 10 on my hugness scale. I was in Vancouver recently for a conference. I have a friend who has lived there for years. I got to know Gladiola after high school when I left home and went to a religious college in another city. She was thin and had the most beautiful long black hair. For years after, during the Christmas holidays she would make the best eggnog ever. We never dated. I don't really know why but we have always been good friends.

A few years back she called me on a Friday afternoon. At the time I was in my bachelor apartment basking in the sunlight that streamed into the room. This was a few months after separating from Spandex. I spent many hours alone those days so to get a call from someone, anyone, was a treat. But this call was disturbing. Gladiola called in distress to say she was trying to make a decision about whether or not to go into rehab for a drinking problem. I knew she had a problem but we had never discussed it before. She called to say that she was scared and didn't know what to do. She said things were so bad that she would get sick when she stopped drinking. She would vomit and the only way to stop was to start drinking again.

I listened and I hurt for her. When she asked me what I thought she should do I didn't really know what to say. I usually avoid giving advice to friends but I will if they ask and I feel that they really want an answer - not everyone who asks actually wants advice. I suggested that she should do what is best for herself and her family - she has a husband and a son.

I didn't her from her for a few months. Every once in a while I would call her or email her. She did go for treatment and is now doing much better.

Before my trip to Vancouver I sent her a note asking if she would have time to meet. She replied with enthusiasm and told me to set aside the whole afternoon before the conference. We arranged to meet at my hotel about 3:00. She called me when she got there and I met her in the lobby. She hug me so tight and so long that I thought she would never let go. It felt wonderful to be loved and appreciated.

We spent the next 7 hours wandering around Granville Island looking at all the shops. I had never been to Granville Island so this was a real treat for me. One store was full of sculpture from Africa - I was fascinated. We had a late lunch, drank tea, and had a beer. I asked her before we ordered if she was okay drinking alcohol and she reassured me that she was fine and she was. Between beverages we walked around and around sometimes crossing paths that we had been on before. We didn't care. We took pictures of each other standing in front of the harbor with all the boats. Absolutely spectacular. At 7 or so we went to this fancy restaurant called Bridges. I honestly can't remember what we ate but it was delicious. And we drank Malbec wine from Argentina (I wonder where I learned that from). Gladiola had one glass and I drank the rest. She was planning on driving later. We talked and shared stories about our lives. I told her about being married and why I left. I told her about my sons and raising them on my own. She told me about the good times and the bad times in her life. She told me about her family and her siblings and her parents. Some of the stories I knew already but some were new. I reveled in her openness and honesty. I love to feel share about my life and I treasure the trust that others show me when they tell me about themselves. At 10 pm she dropped me off at my hotel. We hugged again for a long time.

A few days later after the conference was finished, I sent her an email thanking her for a wonderful evening. Her reply was that the evening was "magical". Wow, what a compliment!

On another note, Cartwheels has tumbled off the map. I did go on a walk with her and her dog. We had fun. I enjoyed her company. But she's missing a tooth and she wore a white jacket that was filthy and her dog had poo hanging off his rear end. Now her work phone has an extended absence message. I think she is ill but I have no way of connecting with her. Maybe I'll leave another card at her mother's house. This is all very strange.

Pickles, however, is still hanging in there. I'm surprised and grateful. I tried to break up with her after our trip to New York. She understood me completely but basically ignored my request and kept in touch by sending me jokes via email. Then she asked me to go as her date to her niece's wedding. I went and had fun. Later we had lots of fun. Of course, that was after a 22 years old female guest (from the groom's side) mauled her very affectionately outside just as we were leaving. It seems that this gal took a special liking to Pickles after the pole dancing routine at the stagette the week before. Nothing better than 2 gals making out - one MILF and one hotty. I just stood back and watched in amazement while my own pole stood to attention.

Since then we have had lots of fun both in and out of bed. Last night we went to the haunted houses. I'm still puzzled. In six months I have had more fun with her in bed than I had in 20 years of marriage. Yet I can't fall in love. Strange. I'm beginning to think I'm the odd one. Although, I have to add that after 20 years of trying to please an unpleaseable women I finally got a compliment worthy of repeating. After one late evening both Pickles and I rolled on our backs exhausted and Pickles said, "I have never had sex where the guy focused on giving me so much pleasure." How about that? Made my day!

Moving on.... Spindle (her significant was sick), Pickles and my friends, Jay and Gee, from Brazil dropped by on Friday. We carved faces in pumpkins and lit candles inside - spooky and fun. We ate BBQed pork tenderloin and chewed pumpkin seeds roasted in oil and garlic. Spindle brought Gee a surprise birthday cake with exquisite butterflies made from icing sugar. It was stunning. Jay and Gee told stories about their previous marriages (5 in total including to each other). I started the ball rolling by asking them what they did to resolve disagreements. Their conclusion was to keep talking until both people come to a comfortable acceptance. They explained that both people have to change their perceptions and attitudes. Both have to compromise and both will end up as winners. Very perceptive and very wise.

Lastly, my friend Sandy has moved in with me for a few weeks. She is a wonderful singer and exceptional guitarist. She is having a few difficulties with her female partner after kicking her partner's 15 year old son out of the house. Not too wise in my opinion. It is difficult enough parenting your own children but giving a swift kick to someone else's child is bound to stir up the hornets nest can result in a few stings.

Glad to hear you are coming to town soon.

All for now. Love ya.

Cocktale

An emotional rollercoaster

2009-10-26T19:19:00.000-05:00

Firstly, I have to tell you that your Cartwheels incident has warmed my heart and if you end up getting together with who I hope is a worthwhile dame, I will be absolutely ecstatic for you! Frankly, it would be a Notebook worthy story, where I could actually bawl my eyes out at your second wedding. I would cry my heart out….this is not something I normally do, but in this case I would make an exception. This brings me to the emotional rollercoaster I have been on for the past several weeks.

PMS!!! I have no idea how that could last for 6 weeks. Ok, so one thing you need to know about me is that for the last several years I have not really been that in tune to my emotional side. I still love people, enjoy life, but overall when it comes handling life situations, I’m generally logical self composed human being. For whatever reason, perhaps I can blame some bizarre chemical in all the spider bites I endured on my trip; I have turned into a raging emotional lunatic. I seem to be crying all the time (not at work, thank god). I cry when I’m at home, I tear up at the sight of children and don’t even ask me what happens when I see the Dog Whisperer. Let’s just say, I’m a genuine mess.

So, this may have started on my trip. I have to tell you that it was an absolute wonderful time, and by wonderful I mean ridiculously hard. I was traveling to India with my grandfather to help him out with his charity. His vision is to open up a school in the village, so we did some great work while we were there with the local community and are now working with amazing team out there to help out the wonderful children in the ridiculously small village outside of Delhi. While I was on my trip, I had a LOT of time to think. I was surrounded by poverty and was very removed from any form of technology (electricity and running water count in this case). It got me thinking about what was important in life. Everyone there was focused on basic survival and simple pleasures were drawn from everyday interactions with family. Don’t get me wrong, I really have no answers, but it was definitely a moment when you look at a human face in turmoil and they are still smiling their way through life willing to give you all they have. This is where the crying started. Sounds logical right…well it was, but now I can’t stop.

I cried when I hung out with the children, I cried when I thought of my family and heck, I even cried a little when I got home and had a 30 minute shower after weeks without anything aside from a bucket, thinking about how much water I used and how the village could have used it for days. So now, the floodgates are open and I have to figure out how the channel the energy for the good of humanity. Work seems to help, but only in 15 minute increments. Cocktale…do you think I’m having an early midlife crisis? Have you ever been in this scenario?

So I have a few theories:
1. I have officially fallen off the rocker
2. My pent up emotion from the last few years since my divorce is filtering out in tidal waves
3. This might be the new me with “feelings” and I might have to learn how to channel them moving forward to figure out what I want

So I’m hoping for option 2, but I guess we will find out shortly. I just don’t want to turn into that emotional mess of a girl every time I see a bird chirping or worse yet when I see the Dog Whisperer, which has been happening quite frequently as of late. I see him and I am emotional because I like him, I don’t see him and I’m emotional because I don’t see him. Seriously…when is this going to end. I think if he were to choose, he would pick option 1. Wait, there might be an option 4 – my body is demanding I turn into an emotional mess to drive him away from my inconsistency. Option 5 – could I be pregnant…heck no, I double checked that one already.

As for any other forms of male distraction that might get me back to my old self, I am afraid to report there have not been any as of late. Well that is not entirely true…I will have to tell you about my new dance partner and his dance moves – important to note that this interaction did not make me cry. I signed up for a new Buchata class and it was more an experience in awkwardness where the hip movements may have gotten me a bit more than I bargained for…being felt up for the sake of the art is ok right? My dance partner did ask me where he should be placing his hand…I did advise that him holding my ass is not an acceptable form of leading, even during the Buchata which does have its origins in the Dominican Republic’s sex industry. Check it out on youtube…HOT!

Anyway, I digress. I wish you luck with Cartwheels…please give me an update when you have one. Until then, I will just report my emotional forecast…perhaps I can use it to channel the weather or something.

Love ya!

Cartwheels and Lemonade

2009-09-03T22:38:00.028-05:00

Dearest Chutney,

By the time you read this you'll be back from your trip. I hope you had a wonderful time and that you got some rest. By the way, you work too hard. If I worked as hard as you I'd be a millionaire.

At this time the lads are not causing me any grief or hardship. Both are doing well. My fingers are crossed. I never thought I would say that but it is true. Dancer, my youngest, is seriously thinking of moving to the city to the north to live with his grandma, my ex's mother. My Dad lives there too. My first reaction is sadness. I'll be sorry to see him go and I'll be sad about him not living with me. But I'm also excited. I think it would be fantastic for him to not live with a parent. I left home and went to another city after high school when I was 17. I doubt that everyone would be thrilled about going to Bible school but loved it and I had a blast. So listen to this.... He told me that the reason he wants to move is to get away from some of his friends that he feels are a bad influence. Wow. What a tremendous reason to leave. I'm impressed.

You have some interesting choices to make with respect to boyfriends. I wish you luck.

My situation is still complicated. But first I have to tell you that Grace finished the painting that she promised me. You'll have to come see it sometime. I think it is spectacular. I just got it this week and it is hanging in my bedroom so that I can see it when I wake up. The painting is an abstract landscape of New York City with the view point from a boat on the Hudson River. Fabulous. I love it.

Back to my love life or lack thereof. Pickles is still emailing me and inviting me to all kinds of things. I went to her niece's wedding a couple weekends ago. It was fun and we had a bit of fun after. She is good. But I just can't get too worked up about her. She is nice and all but just not for me. I can hardly explain it.

I did meet another gal, online. Actually Effervescent met me. I was just surfing around and she sent me a message. God, some of these women are aggressive. This one is especially so. I met her quite a few months ago at a coffee place. She told me how she was sick for many years and lost touch with her kids. Scary. Then she had to leave to go home and sleep - it was 8:30 pm. Not a good sign. I forgot about her until I saw her in Staples one day recently. I said hi. She emailed me and suggested going to an outdoor play. I replied that I would but that I was not interested in anything romantic. We still went. Then she invited me to a fireworks festival. I went but I can't even get close to interested. I feel like an idiot but she's as skinny as a rail. Skinny gals terrify me - too similar to Spandex. If I was a real man I would just take advantage of the situation but I can't. I'm just not like that.

The week of the wedding I went out three nights with three different women. It actually gets confusing. And once I managed to get my stories mixed up. That was embarrassing. Oops.

But let me tell you who I AM excited about. A few weeks ago I saw Cartwheels. I was ecstatic. I even talked to her but that was all I could do. Let me explain.

I'm sure I told you about her. I met her eight months ago just after Christmas at the neighborhood dog park. We had a wonderful conversation about her messed up sister and her Dad who's sick. She is a nurse. About 40. Cute. Friendly. Long blond hair that isn't falling out. She has a dog called Chunky that was a puppy at Christmas but is now huge - a Great Pyrenees. She's had a few of them which is fascinating because she is petite. I'm sure Chunky outweighs her.

Here's the problem. At the park, I couldn't figure out how to ask her for her phone # or give her mine. I had left my cell at home. I had no wallet where I always keep a business card. And what really held me back was that I was on the walk with my friend All-a-lone. Every couple of weeks he calls me (or I call him) because he is separated, depressed and unemployed. I worked with him in a couple different companies and we have stayed in touch. I like him and he is one of my good friends. He called because he wasn't with his kids that weekend and he was feeling lonely and sad. I've told him to call me anytime and he did. I was glad that he called. I invited him for dinner. He was reluctant because he's been over quite a few times for dinner. But I twisted his rubber arm. I made rice and curry - Canadian style. I even baked yeast naans. You missed a great meal.

Anyway before dinner he wanted to go for a walk so we took my dog to the same nearby park. Then I saw her. There she was - in living flesh. Cartwheels. The one I adore. I even talked with her for a bit. I wanted to ask her for her phone # or give her mine but I couldn't - not with Al there. And that was the problem. I just didn't felt right about all of a sudden focusing on her when I was going for a walk with Al. I was so torn. It was torture.

For the last three weeks I have been in agony because I thought it would be another 8 months before I saw her again. Four of those months - the first four - I would drive by the park to see if she was there and she never was. Then I gave up looking for her. I figured she had died or moved.

I was thrilled to see her again. Can you tell? During the brief conversation that we had she told me that she didn't come to this park very often because the people and the dogs are strange. I agree they are but the park is close and I don't really care about other people at dog parks. Except Cartwheels, of course. I seem to care about her. Since seeing her I have been going to the park or driving by the park looking for her. Every day I go - sometimes twice a day. But she is never there.

I've been trying to figure out what to do. How can I find her? How could I talk to her? Why did I never see her at the park for eight months? Obviously, I'm not a drawing card. I'm dying and she's killing me. It's tragic really.

She told me that she often goes to another park called Discovery Creek. I know where that park is so one Sunday I went there. It is quite a ways from my place and it isn't even an off lease park. What fun is that? The whole point of going to the park with a dog is to let them run around off their leash. I didn't go back. It is a huge park by a creek with lots of trees. The chances of being there at the same time and seeing her were too small. So I went back home to agonize.

Then lady luck (actually a group of young angels) helped me out. A week ago I saw a sign for a lemonade stand. I love lemonade stands and I always try to stop and buy a glass or two or four. I usually buy $5 worth. I love supporting young entrepreneurs. The sign pointed up a street that I don't think I have ever been on. I drove up, stopped at the lemonade stand and spent my $5 for four glasses of lemonade. Loved it. Then I carried on up the street and around a corner. There she was. Cartwheels herself. With her huge dog. Talking to a neighbor. Under a big elm tree. Smiling. Just as I was driving by she finished the conversation with her neighbor and started walking up the driveway to her house. Or what I thought was her house. My mind just froze. I didn't know what to do. So I just drove on only to continue my life in agony trying to figure out how to meet her again.

But I hatched a plan and tried it out last night. My plan was to go on a walk with my dog, go to her house, knock on the door and see if she wanted to go for a walk.

The main problem with this plan is that she is going to wonder how I found out where she lives - she may think I'm a stalker. Looking like a stalker is not going to increase my chances of success. I would bet that my chances would plummet. So I had to figure out a way to explain how I found her house. That is when I figured out that honesty is the best policy. I'll just tell her the truth about the lemonade stand.

So that is what I did. I ate dinner - cordon bleu. Delicious. I called the dog, leashed her up and off we went. I found the street. Walked up past the corner and up her drive way. I rang the door bell and waited. I heard something and my heart leaped. The door opened and some old lady asks, "How can I help you?". What a letdown. Dang. I had so much anticipation.

Not all is lost. The older lady is Cartwheel's mother. Very nice lady. I chatted her up, told her my lemonade story and left my business card.

Now I wait.

The Glamour Effect

2009-08-28T15:50:00.000-05:00

Hi Cocktale,

I miss you. I wish you were here. I’m glad that we keep in touch, but I really look forward to seeing you and can’t wait to come back over Christmas.

You know, although our situations are very similar, I can’t imagine how you cope with the emotional ramifications from the divorce combined with the onslaught of teenager issues from your boys. I remember being a teenager, and it was a time of serious confusion. I am still confused…maybe that will never go away.

As a teenager, I always thought I was smarter than my parents. I now realize the opposite was true. Although I may have deceived my parents by crafting camping trips so I could go run rampant for a few days, stole a bottle of wine or a few cigarettes, they were always supporting and knew that I had to learn some things on my own to become the person that I am today. I thank them for that, and someday your boys will too.

Speaking of confusion, I have a great story for you. The last few weeks have been insane. After months of layoffs, the office here is finally landing new clients and now we have the opposite problem. Most of us are trying to drink from the firehose of work around here. All I keep hearing is the phrase “it is a good problem to have” and I keep thinking yes, it is for you, but it’s not helping me get to bed before 2am every night. Anyway, I digress, so as a team building event, the office decides to throw an all day session with leadership facilitators to explore the concept of Extraordinary. I won’t go into details, but it was 8 hours worth of pain, followed by the typical advertising party where everyone gets fall down drunk. I was no exception – I was fully engaged in the drunken debauchery.

So, of course, the Aussie was in town and it turns out that he thought it would be a good idea to stay at my house. I gave him a random excuse about the dog whisperer and told him that he could not stay even though he was in Japan and would not be coming back for the next few weeks. Anyway, I head to the party, start drinking and like usual, the Aussie just wants to have a good time. Well, to be honest, I don’t remember what happened. I know there was a LOT of drinking, there was karaoke and then I woke up in my bed, without the Aussie, so I can only assume that nothing happened. The next day, the Dog Whisperer sent me a text message to let me know he was very upset with me. Of course I have no idea why and I feel like a total idiot. Thoughts that crossed my mind (in this order):

RUN!
Ok, I don’t know why he’s mad, what do guys do in this situation?
If I apologize will it go away?
Did I say something about the Aussie being in town, does this mean he wants to break up with me? OMG, did something happen?
Seriously man….he’s old, does it matter…it was only a matter of time!
Wait…why do I feel like I want to throw up?

Good times. So I spent about 2 days in this agony trying to figure out what I could have done that he no longer wants to speak with me. During the 2 days of emotional angst (a throwback to my teenage years), I was sitting in a salon getting my nails done reading Glamour magazine. I usually avoid trashy magazines, but I had nothing better to do while the small lady doing my nails tortured me with her nail file, so I read as a distraction. There was this small comic at the bottom of a page really making light of non-committal woman (apparently my issues are more common than I thought). The comic was about me…everything about the comic summarized my dating life since my divorce. I have a tendency to make up any random excuse in the book to try and justify breaking up with someone. The comic had a woman breaking up with a guy over his shoes, over his hair or over his height etc. It was actually quite entertaining until the comic character spends some time with a guy she really likes and breaks up with him for another stupid reason. All of a sudden she is reeling from heartbreak and needs to figure out how she was blindsided by the angry bus of emotion.

So, the outcome from my Glamour epiphany is that I am going to take a step back and re-evaluate my personal baggage to ensure I don’t miss out on an opportunity. Nothing is resolved with the Dog Whisperer just yet, and I’m not sure it will be before I leave on my trip, but at least I will have plenty of time to think what I want on my vacation.

I leave tomorrow – a few days of traveling across Spain, then a couple of weeks helping out my grandfather in a remote village in Northern India with the hopes of starting educational programs and promoting literacy. Thanks for putting on the fundraiser, it’s a great cause and we really hope to help.

Anyway, this is my sign-off. I will be sure to write about my adventures while I’m away.

Lots of love,

Chutney

Dinner and Relationships after Divorce

2009-08-07T13:17:00.006-05:00

Just read your post. Nice work. You are fascinating.

Friendship is like a old shirt, worn out underwear or a ragged pair of jeans - soft, warm and comforting.

I'm taking the day off work so I have time for a post. I'll comment on relationships after divorce in a bit.

First, let me describe my thoughts about dinner with Spindle, Sparky and the rest. Spindle's observations and comments were off base. Granted, you were quieter than I have seen you at other times. But I don’t think I would have expected anything different. Sometimes you are the life of the party - talking, joking, laughing, challenging, teasing, suggesting, motivating (notice I didn't add controlling - you aren't controlling). At this dinner I wouldn’t have expected you to be the centre of attention. That would have been odd. Everyone was new to you except Spindle and me. So naturally I would think you would listen more and talk less. I've met everyone before. So has Spindle, except for the Japanese gal, Tomato. You weren't hostile - far from it. I've seen you pissed off (although never at me) and you were nothing like that. I thought you were having fun and enjoying the food - getting to know everyone. To be honest, I thought you were partially inebriated from the wine we consumed previously - wasn't that fun? You were not bizarre or bitchy. Where did she get that idea from? I can't believe she said that. I think she was nervous and wanted you to be gaga about Sparky. He's not that type of guy. He is just a human being like the rest of us. Personally, I like him and I think he is great with Spindle.

I agree with the Dog Whisperer, looks are important. I saw that show, "Dating in the Dark", too. The show was interesting, except that all the gals fell in love with the same guy. I felt sorry for the other 2 guys. Getting to know someone before seeing them is a good idea. I think it would be difficult to set up a situation where 2 people are on a date and have never seen each other before. I can't imagine how that could happen. Then I'm a guy and guys are visual - very visual. When I ask a woman on a date, my criteria for what they look like is not very high. Actually I don't really care. I like friends and I like having fun. So I go on lots of dates with a variety of women; some of whom are not super pretty.

But when it comes to having a relationship, all of a sudden I find my criteria changes. My criteria seem to be quite rigorous when it comes to having a relationship. I seem to be very picky. Age is one hang-up that I know I have. I can't seem to get excited about any woman who is older than me. I went out with a Jewish gal. She was and is still a wonderful friend. She is about 6 years older. We actually went to the same high school but obviously not at the same time. I like her but kissing her was very odd. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t too excited about her. I took me a while to figure out because I love kissing. We kissed often but I had this nagging feeling that something wasn't right. Jessie is shortish, dark hair with some grey, and a bit over weight. All of a sudden it dawned on me - she looks like my mother. I'm kissing my mother! I freaked out and never kissed her again. It was terrifying. So now I can't kiss anyone older than me.

My second hang-up is living with my two teenage sons. I love living with them although it is nerve wracking. Having dates over is a bit awkward. I have brought women home after a wonderful evening but then I get nervous with teenagers around and one of them is always here. My mind just runs wild with images of them laughing because of what they think I'm doing behind closed doors. I know you can't relate as a parent but think about it as a daughter. Isn't having a parent over with a date a bit strange?

My third hang-up is trying to fall in love. I can’t seem to do it. Having a relationship after divorce is challenging for me. I was so in love with my ex-wife, Spandex. Dating her was absolutely a blast. We did so much together - hiking, skiing, canoeing, camping, eating, kissing, exploring. Getting married and setting up a home was fun too. Having kids was challenging but we did it. Playing with young kids and watching them learn was very rewarding for me. After getting married, Spandex and I managed reasonably well for about 10 years then things started to fall apart. My mother died. I love my mother but during the last 10 years of her life she was not healthy and not that nice. I have great memories of her but they are all when she was younger. Then our family dog died. Then Spandex's brother-in-law died. He was only 42. That was getting too close to home. But what finally killed our marriage was when her father died. It was sudden and he was only 67. Spandex didn't fall apart. She's too much of a controlling bitch to do that. She just went cold. I can't really blame her. I'm sure I wasn't the best person to live with when my mother died. Everything I did was wrong. Our sex life crumbled and I found strange ways to satisfy my hunger. I was a mess. My whole digestive system was mushy - food would just run through my body. I even had a colonoscopy to determine what the problem was - negative. I was angry frequently. I couldn't seem to keep a steady job and I hated myself and my life.

And having teenagers didn't help. One day my older son, Rhino, and I got into a tussle. He wouldn't go to bed. He was 16 and it was a Saturday night - I was way out of line. Spandex was away that weekend. I called her and told her what happened. She was cruel. After that call I realized that I had been enforcing house rules that were not my invention. I was trying to parent my boys in a way that pleased their mother and I wasn't being true to what I believed. At that moment, I realized that I couldn't do this anymore. I just gave up. I couldn't continue living the way I thought someone else thought I should live. I couldn't try to please her any longer. I was done. The next day I started looking for an apartment and within 2 weeks I had moved out.

Separating and moving out was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Within weeks my sexuality straightened out. Within 6 months my digestive system was normal. I could actually take a crap without shit splashing all over my ass. I smiled and laughed. I cried, lots. I cried for me and for my boys. I worried about them so much. Both have had difficulties with drugs and the law. But they are now working things out and getting better. Last term Giraffe did the best that he has done in school since grade six. Rhino was very ill, mentally, last year but he is improving slowly. He is even asking to do chores around the how. He wants to be paid but that is fine. There are streaks on the windows after he "washed" them but at least he did it. He tried. Last year he was comatose or nearly so. The change in him is like a fresh new dawn.

I’m sad because it will be a long time before we meet again. Have fun on your travels. Send me a post card. Miss you already.

Cocktale

Dating in the Dark

2009-08-07T12:07:00.001-05:00

It’s really good to be at home for a few days. I have to tell you that it was wonderful seeing you last night after such a long time. Our time together is always brief, but always enjoyable. I have to tell you that you really are one of my best friends and I’m glad that the president’s cup challenge years ago led to such an amazing friendship.

Speaking of best friends, my best girlfriend, Spindle, also joined us for dinner on Wednesday night. I am really glad that you were able to hit it off with her as well. She has a not so new boyfriend named Sparky. Spindle tends to be uncertain with many things in her life and she has always been a woman that rides the wind. This is the first time in her life that I’ve seen her in such a serious relationship. Spindle and Sparky have moved in together. Spindle is also working full time now, so I’m really happy for her.

So this week was the big meeting where I got to meet her boyfriend Sparky. I completely understand how this was a big deal for her. In fact, I have a story of my own of my friends meeting the Dog Whisperer for the first time, but I’ll get to that later. Honestly, I didn’t get to spend a lot of time with the guy. I spoke with him at dinner for a few minutes and that was basically the extent of our conversation. I thought he was fine and that everything went well. I mean, how much can you really like a person or tell what they are about after an hour or two at dinner. My first impression was that he was polite, a little on the nervous side, but overall a human with good intentions.

Well as it turns out, his perception of me was quite different. The next day, Spindle IMed me and asked me what was wrong with me over dinner. She said that I wasn’t quite myself and that I seemed hostile. I disagreed with her statement - in fact, I had a wonderful time over dinner and felt completely at home with the group (the entire bottle of wine you and I consumed prior to dinner helped). She insisted that my behavior was bizarre and that I was quite abrasive over dinner as Sparky had a hard time communicating with me. Oh no – how do you react to that? A man you have never met before in your life is influencing your best friend into thinking that somehow I have turned into an unfriendly bitch. How does a significant other blind someone you have known your entire life in a matter of a few months? I’m not really concerned, I’m sure everything will work out eventually, but the question is still interesting.

Are we really all blind when we are dating? What senses play the biggest factor in the experience? I have been concentrating a heck of a lot of sight, but there is of course the power of pheromones, attraction to the mind and just general energy levels that all play a part in the complex phenomenon of dating.

I recently saw a show called “Dating in the Dark” that exemplifies part of this question wonderfully. When I saw the show for the first time, I immediately thought of myself and the dog whisperer. Would I have gone for his sexy European accent, his charming personality and his overall intelligence – it’s safe to assume the answer would have been yes to all of these questions. What happens after a few dates in the pitch dark is that the person is revealed to you in the light for a few minutes before you go back and contemplate if all the other factors matter over sight. I have been documenting the results…I have found that in 2/3 of cases, the person deemed as being more attractive will give it a shot, but of course we don’t know what happens after this point. Does it last a week, a date or a year? Did they agree to go out on another date so they didn’t look like complete shallow assholes on tv?

I brought up this show with the Dog Whisperer the other night to see his reaction. It actually surprised me quite a bit. He told me that he would not ask a woman out he did not find attractive. He said that women he dates have to be the entire package and that physical appearance is integral to having a healthy relationship. My mind was on a complete rollercoaster ride during the conversation as I was trying to rationalize not going off the deep end with him and revealing my doubts on the subject.

I did come to one realization though throughout this conversation….yes physical appearances matter, but what matters more to me is the mental challenge that dating evokes – he was driving me insane with this comments. As humans, we always want what we can’t have. So here is where I think the Dog Whisperer is brilliant, the more I start to like him, the more he backs away, so I think I want him more. I’m struggling with this concept, and I’m not sure if the relationship is real at this point, but I’ll tell you this much, this is the first time in a dating scenario that I’ve been mentally engaged since my divorce. I find that this exact strategy works in reverse as well. The less I call, the harder he will work to see me and get my attention. I think I may have a rebuttal to “He’s Just Not That Into You”.

I know that your experiences in this domain have been similar. Pickles and how many other women have been falling over themselves in love trying to be with you and touch your hair? OMG, this strategy is gold if you know what you want. Now figuring that out is the real problem!

Pickles in New York City

2009-07-02T22:41:00.047-05:00

I loved your last post. Glad to hear that you got your own place. Wow. That is fantastic. You must be loving it. Except for no banjo music at 4 am - I'm sure you'll miss that!

The only time I have lived on my own was was a couple of years after I was separated. I'll admit was lonely at times. But it was also a time of healing. I look back on it with fondness. In contrast to now where living with teenagers is not lonely and hardly boring, to say the least. But I digress.

Before I get going on New York I should share the second story about women, me and dogs. I was at Pickles' place and her mutt jumped on the bed. I was in a rather compromising position and the monster licked my.... Well not really but I thought that it might. My reaction was to high tail (sic) it out of there. The next day Pickles went into retreat mode and started training the mutt to stay out of her room at night. I can just hear her, "Bad dog, biting the nice man's balls and chasing him away like that, Bad dog". It was a little shocking at the time but now it is funny.

The trip to New York was fantastic. I'm in love. With New York, not Pickles. She pissed me off a few times. First she lost my pen. I'm serious. It took her less than an hour into the trip to lose my pen. While we were going through US customs before the flight, she asked to use my pen. So I lent it to her. Then we got on the plane and I had to fill in yet another form so I ask for my pen back. She had lost it. Unfuckingbelievable. Usually I'm cool with a minor incident like this but I just thought it was careless and I took it personally. I gave her the evil eye. I'm still not laughing.

We arrived in New York on a Wednesday. Remember I'm travelling with two women. Pickles is my age roughly, a bit younger. She is nice. She is a giver. She's loving. She likes me. She massaged my feet a few times - I love massages (any part of my body actually). But she can be annoying. And I'm not in love which means that I don't really care about how I react to her annoying behaviour. I agree, this isn't too smart - I react before I think. Stupid really but that just how it is.

The second traveler is Grace. That's not her real name but that is what she is. She is a relative of a relative (my uncle Fairy, remember him?). Grace is 77 years old (born in 1931, can you believe that) and a real gem. She is the main reason that I wanted to go to New York. She is an artist (painter) and has never had much money so I offered to pay for her trip. I thought she would like to visit some art galleries and I wanted to see her reaction. She has been a spinster forever and I also wanted to let her know that someone cares about her and to bring some joy into her life. She actually does just fine on her own but, you know, sometimes it's nice to have someone do something special for you. She loved everything about New York. It was so fun to go with her. She made me laugh.

Back to Wednesday. We got to our hotel ($233 a night, not bad). Okay, I'll put a plug in for Best Western Hospitality House. It was a great place to stay: 2 bed rooms (I wasn't with Grace), kitchen, living room, 3 TVs, bathroom and continental breakfast. Then we went for a stroll to Times Square (can you see us?). That place is busy - even late at night! We took Grace back and then Pickles and I went back for more.

We ended up getting lured into the basement of some building by a guy offering us tickets for a comedy show. I thought, "What the heck?", but it was a little freaky going down into a basement. We lived and some of the comedians were funny. I love the guys that make fun of people in the audience. One black guy in the audience had a hat on and the comedian kept teasing him about being a pirate. Another guy had a Mohawk and the comedian kept referring to him as gay and joking with his date that she was going out with a gay guy. Probably not too funny for you - you had to be there. The strange thing is that when a comedian asks someone a question, they seem to reply with a real answer - how stupid is that?. I keep a very low profile at these types of things - I'm an easy target.

On Thursday we headed for The Cloisters. This was Grace's idea and it was fantastic. I was pretty excited but nervous too because it started with a bus ride to Harlem and a walk down 125 St to the subway. Luckily it was broad daylight. The Cloisters is at the northern tip of Manhattan Island which is why I was interested in going there, I had never been to that part of Manhattan before.

I should explain that I had surgery on my foot a couple weeks ago. The doctor cut a nerve (Morton's Neuroma) out of my left foot. He had a fit when I told him I was going on a walking tour of New York City. I revived him with smelling salts. He threatened me with blood clots on the plane. Apparently after surgery I was a bit woozy and I asked the nurse for a blow job in the recovery room. I can't remember if she obliged or not. Darn. So I experienced some discomfort and slowness in New York.

As mentioned, The Cloisters (every time I say that word, I can't help think of some female anatomy - silly me) was fun. Pickles started to complain after the first 45 minutes. I had arranged a work related appointment at 3:00 so I left the two ladies to navigate their way back to the hotel via Harlem. The visit with the ad agency went well except that he said it was tough getting clients to pay $150 per hour. I was stunned - this is New York! Martinis are $20 each and he can't get a client to pay a paltry $150? Ludicrous. I'm not sure we will be doing any business with them.

Pickles and Grace never made it back to the hotel. I found them drinking in Rockefeller Plaza. Grace doesn't drink but Pickles drinks like a beached whale. There is no way I can keep up to her. Makes for fun times later, however. They didn't know what they wanted to do in the evening so I made a few calls and voila, we were heading to the harbor for dinner on a cruise. Now that was some dinner. The food was great. The waiter was funny. The entertainment - singing waiters - was pretty good. The views were unforgettable. Glad you got the picture of the Statue of Liberty - the lady is impressive. We got back late.

Friday started with a visit to The Met - it was spectacular. It is a museum and it is big but it is art and not stuffed animals. I don't do stuffed animals. But art - I love art. I don't go for all art - I get tired of Renaissance portraits. I love the Impressionists and some modern art. Although some modern art is just for laughing at. I hope the artist is never around when I'm looking at contemporary art - I just ridicule it. Not all of it but lots of it. Well you know what I'm like. It didn't take Pickles very long to request a lunch break so we had hot dogs.

Now this gets interesting. Pickles can't stand spicy food. Really! She paid for 2 sausage dogs; tried one; nearly passed out and gave hers to me. It gets worse. On the Saturday we were tired so we went to a restaurant near the hotel. It served Indian food (that has to be the worst website). You would have loved it but Pickles could only eat the rice and drink the beer. I am fucking serious. Quit laughing. This is no laughing matter. She can't eat anything hotter than rice. I'm not sure I can date someone who can't eat food with a little kick. Of course there is an upside - more for me. Bring on the naans and tandori chicken.

Friday night Pickles and I went to Billy Elliot. OMG, it was sooooo good. I loved every minute. The story. The acting. The singing. And of course the dancing. I laughed. I cried. I didn't dance but I could have had there been room. God it was good. The movie trailer. The dancing. The musical. Music by Elton John, no less. This was the song that had tears rolling down my cheeks. I seem to have a little pent up sadness (and anger) from childhood.

By the time Saturday rolled around I was sick of continental breakfasts (you know I love breakfast). So I'm thinking, The Waldorf is just around the corner. "Hey, ladies what about the Waldorf for a change?" They agree so off we go. Only to lighten our wallets by $120. No alcohol. No seconds. No kidding. Luckily, Grace whipped out her Amex and paid.

Then we went to MOMA. Most of the time I was in hysterics. This is a long video of NYSE crashing. How can someone call this art? This was a huge room of junk called art. Even Bruno was there. Everyone marked their height on the wall. This is a chair. Who thinks of this stuff? My lord. However, Grace loved it and that was important. She loves modern and contemporary art but she takes it seriously and ignores my antics. Kinda why I like her.

Later, we went to a small gallery on Grace's list. She loved it. I sat on a chair and listened to her discussion with the curator. Pickles went off on her own to Pier 17 to drink beer.

On Sunday we explored Central Park. I rented a bike and pushed off the ground with my good leg. It is huge. Not my leg although it was a bit swollen - the park. We started off and after an hour or more we came to the end, or what I thought was the end. Pickles insisted that we had come full circle to the beginning - I was sure that she was totally out to lunch. But she pointed out a few land marks proving that we had not gone the full length but, in fact, only the width. I was soooo wrong and I'm the one with the outdoor recreation degree - embarrassing. But we had a super time.

For dinner we went to my cousin's condo. David is related to Grace too. David and his wife, Suzie, have two young children - adorable. Dinner was excellent. The condo is in Harlem so we had to go there one last time. We had a great time. Love it.

Monday was depressing because we had to head home. I never like coming home after a trip. Using my incredible foresight, I had arranged to meet a client from New Jersey at our departure airport, Newark, so that took a bit of the edge off.

Anyway, that was our trip. Fun.

A Good Night's Sleep

2009-06-25T13:58:00.001-05:00

Thankfully, my dating life has been slightly less complicated in the animal arena. I have not had to deal with any make-out sessions with eyes staring in the corner. The occasional lick has been averted – well maybe not, but there were certainly no dogs involved. My primary problem lies in the area of roommates. I have not lived alone since my divorce. In fact, I don’t think I have ever lived alone until quite recently – let me tell you, this makes for very interesting situations. As of the last 2 weeks, I’m officially living on my own. It’s quiet. I can walk around in any outfit I choose and I don’t have to worry about many of my prior problems. Some of the key benefits I have discovered in the last couple of weeks include:

- There is no cushion loving, gay room mate stealing my bank card to cut his cocaine
- No one is using my kitchen appliances for anything other than their intended purpose (My last turkey baster was relocated to the bathroom for unknown purposes that I will let you imagine)
- There is no 4 am banjo playing
- The random garbage on the floor has disappeared
- The S&M parties have ended (I lived in an open loft at the time and this made for very interesting evenings at home)

I would like to add the disclosure that for each and every room mate I have had, I did do my due diligence and get references and a credit check. Unfortunately this is obviously not a full proof method, so I am still trying to refine my selection techniques.

My latest flame, the dog whisperer (DW), and I ran into a few very sticky situations with my latest roommate. She has an interesting personality, but overall she has a good heart. She is autistic - suffers from Asperger's syndrome and has an open dating relationship with a coffee barista named Jordon. The two of them combined really make you understand the inspiration behind shows like Jerry Springer.

Jordon is an S&M addict with a mistress on the side, and my roommate is just different. My favorite evening was when we came home after a late evening of salsa dancing to discover them coming in after an erotic party. Of course the evening was not over for them, and it wasn’t for us either. Living in a soft loft puts a slightly different perspective on privacy.

DW and I are super tired and ready to go to sleep. My old roommate and Jordon fall into the door attired in what can only be called strips of lace and PVC. I of course had my own plans for the evening and it did not involve listening to what ensued. After about 2 hours of television (of course, it was already 3 am when we got home) they retire to her area of the apartment. This is when the pony noises start….good times. She likes to tie him up with shoelaces and ride him around like a pony.

DW is surprisingly understanding. You see, he is an older gentleman and my frat house open loft apartment is certainly not what he is used to. We of course get into a vocal match that evening with Jordan and my roommate when DW and I start trying to enjoy ourselves as well. I don’t think anyone won that evening, or maybe we all did. We finally fell asleep around 6 am. Over the course of the evening I develop just a little more respect for the guy, although I still have to close my eyes every time I see him.

I like to refer to this phenomenon as the roommate test. Putting people in slightly awkward situations is very revealing and can show patience, open mindedness, intolerance, humor and or course that little bit of kink in the bedroom. Of all the benefits and privacy I have gained, I think I will miss evenings like the aforementioned one, just a little.

Chutney

Further Musings on Canines

2009-06-03T23:47:00.014-05:00

Funny that you should bring up the topic of dogs because that is exactly what I wanted to write about. I love dogs. In fact, I have one. A golden retriever. All of us in the household love her. She's wonderful but she can be a real bitch too - typical. However, this post isn't about her. It's about women and dogs.

Dogs have been a regular part of my life. When I was a kid my father had guard dogs - two Doberman Pinschers. One day when my younger son was about five he asked me what their names were and I couldn't remember. I wanted to give him a image and something to remember so after a short pause I said Leftie and Rightie. I had to call my Dad after that and explain to him that if Son #2 ever asks him about the our dogs that he needed to say that their names were Leftie and Rightie. Those have been the names ever since.

I also had dogs when I was married - two in fact (dogs not marriages). The black lab died after six years. His death was one of the many stress factors that killed our marriage. The other dog I lost in the divorce. She got the dog and I got the kids. I think I got ripped off. All she has to do is feed the dog, walk the dog and brush his coat once in a while. I, on the other hand, am left with two teenage boys high on hormones, girls, sex, drugs, beer, and junk food. Parenting them is like dancing in a nest of vipers - terrifying and painful. And worry? God, I've never worried so much in my life.

But I digress. Let me get to the topic of this post: dating women with dogs.

Two of the women I dated recently have dogs. As I said, I love dogs but I have a bias toward big dogs. Little yappy mutts really bother me. Let me give you an example. Fenn (from about a year ago) has one of these rat-sized things that she called a dog. Truth be told, it is because of this feral beast that I never made it to the bedroom with her. I never got a chance. The barriers, partially dog and partialy woman, were insurmountable.

The first barrier was that Fenn is very religious - a real prude. I should have known that scoring a home run was just a fantasy. But there were other barriers. The second barrier was that she foamed at the month. I'm serious. She would start talking and a bit of white foam would appear at the corner of her mouth. One would think that this shouldn't be a problem but it was incredibly distracting. Literally, I couldn't consentrate on what she was saying - all I could think about was, "God woman, clean up your act, lick your lips once in a while," or" Don't you know you're foaming at the mouth," or "Shit, I hope she doesn't have rabies."

Although, mouth foam was a problem, it was resolvable. If I closed my eyes I was't so distracted. The clincher for ending our short relationship was Ruffy or whatever her dog's name was. This dog wouldn't stop barking and licking. It barked at the moon, at cars driving by, at the wind, at the neighbors, and at me. I don't think I'm much different from other people - I don't like dogs barking at me. But I'm also 50 years old - I figured I could handle it. Consequently, I decided to not let the barking bother me. I figured that I would just ignored the stupid mutt. It was annoying but never mind - I'm fine. Besides I want some good lovin'.

But this dog was intrusive and that is what did me in. Fenn and I were in the living room. Remember we couldn't be in her bedroom because that might lead to ... Lord save us - sex. Fenn has finally got the mutt to stop barking. We are lying on the floor - kissing. That is all we are doing - kissing. My eyes are closed so that I'm not distracted by the foam - I just lap it up.

Then all of a sudden Ruffy starts licking my feet. I jumped clean off the floor and nearly choked on a mouth full of foam. Eventually, Fenn calms the dog down and we start kissing again - still in the living room and still on the floor. Just as I'm getting my nerve back the dog starts nuzzling my hair and he's licking Fenn's hair too. The strange thing is that she doesn't seem to mind. She thinks this is "cute" and carries on kissing. But to me this is just too bizzare. I not impressed and I'm not having a good time.

What really pissed me off was that Fenn babed this dog and let the thing do whatever it wanted. All I wanted to do is swat the beast. I didn't but I've lost my motivation and any level of performance is gone. I give up. I fake a yawn and complain about how tired I am, then make a quick exit.

I'll save the next dog story for the next post.

Cocktale

The Dog Whisperer

2009-06-02T17:16:00.001-05:00

I can certainly understand your predicament. You know me – come on, I am a sucker for a pretty face. I have even had entire relationships destined to fail from the start over washboard abs and a little bit of arm candy.

Everyone wants to be with that person who walks in the room with the jaw dropping factor. Certainly, you and I are not any exceptions to this rule. To be truthful, I have done very well in this department in the past – come on, I married a gay man!!

He took countless hours to impeccably style his hair in the morning. This routine sometimes lasted upwards of an hour. He would iron or dry clean everything down to his underwear and t-shirts. His shoes would be glowing any time he left the house. I have to tell you –he made it look easy to look good, but it was a daily process that involved at least 3 outfit changes, a temper tantrum and an extra 2-3 hours in the bathroom.

My past lovers have also been quite attractive and could also be defined as metro sexual or even in some other cases as entirely homosexual. I have noticed a trend and am working hard on figuring out an alternative approach to dating (more on this later). In the past I had been happy to be arm and arm with:

- Chad – a very beautiful make-up artist trying to discover himself
- Rob – a bi-curious man with a fetish for leather pants (I ran into him at a bar several years later only to discover he was still wearing the same leather pants. They fit, but my first question to myself is how you go about washing such an article of clothing)
- TM – he was absolutely stunning! His beautiful body, gorgeous face made him a magnet for both men and women a like. Unfortunately he had some serious performance issues. I suspect this issue may have been due to his third testical (I am not even kidding).
- Anatol – my gorgeous German lover who was convinced he was in love with me after a few months of traveling together in turkey
- Emilio – my handsome salsa dancing doctor
- Neil – a confessed in the closet, supremely confused gay man with a propensity for cocaine. He was the spitting image of a younger Jude Law.
- KK – of course we can’t forget my ex husband

So this brings me to my current predicament with The Dog Whisperer (DW for short). You know what is entertaining about your issue with Pickle, is that I have a very similar predicament of my own with DW. His pseudonym fits him perfectly – he has an innate ability to communicate, but unfortunately his looks, in my personal opinion, would be classified and almost dog-like. OMG, that was mean! I don’t want to be this shallow and awful about this situation, as I really like the man, but unfortunately, we too have our issues.

What I adore about DW:
- He is a perfect gentle man – oh yes he opens doors, picks up the bill and becomes a handy man when required
- He is spontaneous – he took me to a shoe store and pretended to be the sales guy to get me to crack a smile
- He makes me laugh – see spontaneity above
- He pushes me to express myself emotionally– this is something that I rarely do now a days as generally I don’t get too attached or feel too much
- He is very well cultured – ok, ok, I am a sucker for accents and he has a great eastern European one that can make me melt over the phone
- He is quite wealthy – his shower is the size of my bedroom!!! I am not generally concerned about wealth as I do fairly well on my own, but there is something about walking into a place, stepping out of a gorgeous car (he opens the door of course), and stepping into a room.
- He can dance – OMG, I love a man who can dance. His Latin dancing skills are a little unreal.
- He is exceptionally smart
- He is not gay!!! In fact, he is borderline homophobic, but I guess any man with no homosexual tendencies is a step in the right direction for me at this point, so I will consider this a positive for now.
- He is absolutely unbelievable in bed – oh yes, oh yes, OMG, oh yes!!!

Sounds like a perfect match doesn’t it? One would think, I would be tripping over myself to reel this one in, but no such luck. In fact, I have spent weeks trying to avoid the man and get out of any sort of commitment what so ever. What is my problem? Well, he looks like a dog whisperer. I have to close my eyes when we go to bed, I can’t hold his hand in public and I’m always super paranoid that someone I know will see us together.

So, in short, I can relate to your dilemma entirely. I want to like him, I want to fall in love, but I don’t think I can or know how to tell you the truth. I am way to rational a person to dive and go blind (maybe that would help in this case).

I am still holding out for perfection. I agree with you, we are the entire package – attractive, smart, adventurous, successful, so why can’t we find all of those same characteristics in a single package.

I want it all! I am waiting for the entire list! Does this mean I will spend the rest of my life on the sidelines hoping for something to happen? Or will my selection criteria eventually pay off and will I ride off into the sun set with the perfect partner? These are all questions I’m currently struggling with as are you at the exact same moment.

The other question that has reared it’s ugly head is are my expectations too high. Before my divorce, I was not so fascinated by perfection and plagued by the fear of failure. Could this new behaviour be an excuse to not commit and stay single? I don’t have answers just yet, but I’m guessing we will discover them together!

Chutney

Got Myself in a Pickle

2009-05-25T12:01:00.006-05:00

So now I'm in a real pickle. I went to a resort town with a new date on the weekend.

In fact for the record, I'll call her Pickles.

The pickle that I'm in is that she likes me a lot more than I like her.

This shouldn't be an issue but it is. Let me explain.

The positives are that:.

She's friendly.

She's attentive.

She's giving.

She loves to touch.

She listens.

She kisses well.

She can do other things well but more on that later.

She can cook - that was last weekend.

And she laughs at my stupid stories and occasional jokes.

So I should be happy. Right?

Almost but it gets better.

In fact, I now realize what I missed as a teenager and as a married guy for 22 years.

I'm about to start on a mission to make up for lost time.

Remember how I said all my recent dates just wanted pleasure for themselves.

Well Pickles is not like that. OMG. She is amazing.

She bought a cute little (!) night thingy for the weekend - not a nightie - not enough material for a "nightie". It was baby blue - red or black would have been hot hot. But it still looked cute. Or technically I should say, she looked cute in it.

I had more fun in one weekend than a year with my ex.

I don't have a drop of semen left in my body.

I'm dry like fish out of water. Limp like a cooked noodle. Soft as ice cream on a hot July afternoon.

Nothing. Nada. Finito. Kaput.

If I tried to jerk off I would be red, raw, blistered and still waiting.

I should be in love, right?

But I'm not and I don't think I could ever be in love with her.

She knows about all my dates over the last few years.

I even told her that I can't fall in love.

She doesn't seem to care - she's still there.

I'm having trouble articulating why I'm struggling to love her.

But I may have figured out a clue.

Now to the "negatives".

She's not gorgeous.

She's not rich.

She's kinda cute - sort of. Let's say cute-ish.

The problem is that she looks old even though she's 2 years younger than me.

She says she has thin hair but I say it is thinning - wispy would be polite - balding would be closer to reality.

She's packing a few extra pounds but so am I (although I have lost a few since romping around with you in your city in February).

And there are a few other things.

She says sorry every other sentence.

Sorry, I bumped you. Sorry I touch you. Sorry for not being ready. Sorry for not thinking. Sorry for thinking.

It drives me crazy.

And the questions. Lord, save me from all the questions.

I don't mind questions per se, in fact I love questions - they are the foundation of good communication.

But there is a point when they can be over done - especially if the questions are coming from a place of insecurity.

Questions like "Will you phone me?" "Is my hair okay?", "Are you okay?", "How did I do?" , "Are we going to do something this weekend?", are really starting to bug me after the 10th time.

Let me give you an example.

Before going to sleep I took a sleeping pill because I know that in a new bed I don't sleep well the first night.

The problem with taking a sleeping pill, in a hotel, with a naked gal is timing - a person has to be careful.

Take it too early and, well... nothing happens and that could be frustrating for all involved.

My timing was ok but not perfect.....

We paid $14.00 for a movie so I take my pills just after brushing my teeth but before the movie starts.

I figure that the meds need a while to kick in.

Big mistake.

We didn't watch the movie. Not that I'm complaining except for the $.

What was I thinking?

Eventually the meds are going to kick in - this much I know - but when?

Well, I start to fall asleep at the end of the movie after some vigorous "exercise".

I thought my timing was just fine.

Pickle, however, can't or won't fall asleep.

And she's talking and asking me all kinds of questions.... Blah blah.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending the perspective) my eyes are drooping.

I try hinting that some sleep would be a good idea but I'm not succeeding in getting the message across.

She keeps talking and asking questions until she eventually asks, "How long does the sleeping pill last?"

Before I even had a chance to think about what to say, I said, "24 hours".

Oops. Apparently that was not the best answer.

There was some flapping and flaying about - even some thrashing.

I have a few bruises but they'll heal -- not scars, I hope.

So now I'm the one who is wide awake - worrying.

Luckily, the meds still have some effect and I fall asleep and stayed asleep.

What is a guy to do?

Here's my second problem: Holding hands in public or to be more exact - not holding hands.

I just don`t want too. I'm sure I could with the right person just not with her.

Picture this.

We park the car in the lot by the Sulfur mountain gondola.

We get out and start walking toward the ticket area.

She reaches for my hand and I tense up.

I can`t help it.

To make matters worse, Susan figures out that I'm reluctant in public but that I don't mind in private.

This is very awkward.

So she starts asking more questions. Here we go again...

Questions like, Why don't I like to hold hands in public?, Is it her? Is she ugly? Don`t I want to be with her?

What I'm I suppose to say?

There are some situations in life when it is best not to tell the truth. This is one.

But I can`t think of anything to say. I just mumble something about how it`s not my style.

I'm really messed up.

I think I need therapy.

Which brings me to the topic of prettiness.

Here is my question: Are a person's looks important?

The altruistic part of me says, No.

But the practical side of me is taking over and saying, Guess what chum, looks matter.

I suppose it doesn't take a genius to figure this out but I try not to be prejudice.

I take pride in being open to others of all racial, gender, and religious backgrounds and not getting too distracted by factors that hinder other people.

I even like women with brown skin - just kidding, I couldn't resist. :)

So I have come to accept the fact that l like pretty women.

There I've said it. I feel better now.

Here is how came to this brilliant conclusion.

Pickles and I were in restaurant. I'm sure you've been there.

We are sitting across from each other.

I should be looking at her.

But I'm not. I'm looking all over the restaurant.

I'm looking for who is pretty. I'm distracted. My mind is wandering. I can`t stay focused.

I'm thinking that if I was in love, really in love, I would be able to focus - focus on the person I'm with.

Looking at her beautiful eyes.

Looking at her hair, nose, ears, neck, freckles, dimples, forehead, lips, neck... okay we`ll stop there.

Remember that I told you that being in love is wanting to touch your lover`s neck and feel their pulse - and not remove you fingers.

You just want to sync your heart rates. That is love.

But I can't and this has me puzzled.

Which brings me back to prettiness.

If I was in a restaurant with someone who was pretty - really pretty - I know I would focus - focus on them.

I've been there before. I've been in love - but it is always with someone who is pretty.

I can't help it.

I used to be in love with my ex.

Before that it was:

- Valerie (the smoothest, softest skin ever)

- Andrea (I had to teach her to French kiss - she caught on)

- Lorraine (she taught me a few tricks. I can't believe I let her go - what was I thinking?)

- Kathy (okay, I`ll admit that she never loved me back but I was still in love with her - that counts right?)

- Eunice (I'm serious. At Bible School, no less. Seriously)

- There was someone else at Bible School but I can't remember her name (shame on me) (Maybe that is because I liked her younger sister better. I can still picture her sweeping the floor. Barefoot. Cute. Gorgeous, actually. There I go... getting distracted, again. I need therapy. Badly.)

- Gladys (she married someone else but we still stay in touch - well not in touch, physically, but you know, in touch... mentally, spiritually, emotionally but not physically. Although, if she reached out I wouldn't stop her.... Actually, she's too skinny for me. I don't like skinny any more.)

- Terri, Vanessa, Cindy, the list goes on....

- and Mary. (I can't forget Mary. I think she was my first love. She was 5 and I was 6. That was in Africa.)

I have come to the conclusion that I can fall in love - she just has to be pretty.

Aren't I smart?

Why hasn't anyone else figured this out and told me.

I'm so smart.

I'm brilliant.

Don`t you agree?

While I'm at it let me add a few more items to my wish list:

- good in bed (I wonder why that is at the top of the list)

- a great cook (second on the list - not too bad)

- rich (of course)

- forgiving (well we all know about my past which was a mess)

- understanding (obviously)

- loving (emotionally that is)

- able to laugh (a lot)

- pleasant (a opposed to bitchy)

- available (or soon to be available)

- and she has to like me (Dang, I was doing so well).

It looks like I have a few more issues to resolve.

Miss you too.

Cocktale.

I'm Chutney ;)

2009-05-22T11:51:00.001-05:00

Firstly, I did not intend for us to in fact be named Cocktale and Chutney, but ironically, the names do fit. So I guess moving forward this is what we will call ourselves. Unfortunately for Cocktale, he may have received the short end of the stick on this one….not literally of course, not that I would know.

Likely I should start in the same place as Cocktale. I am now 29 years old, I am divorced and enjoying my life for what it has become today. I was married to a gay man. He is technically not out of the closet just yet. He is a Muslim man with strong conflicting traditional values, like so many second generation Canadians. Frankly, it’s only a matter of time when he comes to the resolution his morning 3 hour routine and affinity for men is a lifestyle and not a choice. We were together for a total of 4 somewhat miserable years. We had sex only a handful of times, so this may explain my fixation with this particular activity now. I love sex. I crave it, and I need it on a regular basis to make me feel alive and desirable. Is this behaviors healthy, likely not, but for this period in my life, I have accepted it as an enjoyable extracurricular activity.

My life really began after my separation from my husband, but I met Cocktale almost a year earlier. Cocktale’s memory may be fading, but I remember the day quite vividly. I was in sales at the time for a small online agency looking for new clients. Every networking event at the time was like a hunt. I was checking out the crowd for potential opportunities and saw that Cocktale was in fact a competing company to my business. I introduced myself to see if perhaps we could work together on future projects and this was the beginning of our relationship.

At that particular time in my life, I was confident and secure. Talking to anyone and everyone was not a problem at all. So our communication progressed quite easily. We went out for dinner and I thoroughly enjoyed his stories. He is truly a wonderful story teller which is where the ‘tales’ part of his online name fits. Our first dinner was uneventful, aside from the great company and great food. The second time we went out for dinner I remember being devastated. My ex husband had sent me an email a few weeks earlier asking for a divorce. This was really the beginning of our journey together.

Hopefully, you can read our stories, be entertained as some of what has happened to us over the last few years is pretty surreal. Most importantly, we hope we can start a dialogue for us all who have a lust for life and affinity for getting into trouble.

Chutney

I'm Cocktale

2009-05-21T23:31:00.008-05:00

My name, Cocktale, is made up. Truth be told, Chutney made it up. I blame her. Damn.

Let me start by telling you a bit about myself. I'm 50 years old (unfuckingbelievable especially when I feel 38). I live in Canada but I was born in Africa to ex-patriate parents. I'm divorced. That happend a couple years ago but I was separated for a couple years before that. And before that I slept in the basement for 2 years - that was like living in shit. Going through a divorce is nasty. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone. But being divorced is okay - just fine by me actually. Better than being married to ..... well I'll refrain from being nasty; maybe later.

I live with my sons - 2 teenagers. Actually, they live with me or that is how it is supposed to be but teenage boys seem to have a habit of doing their own thing which ends up having an impact on me and my life. But I digress, they are a story on their own and I'll tell a tale or two about them at another time, not now.

Chutney can tell her own story. So I'll start by telling you how we met. Strangely, I can't remember when we first met, she says it was at some business event of which I have no recollection - I must have been drunk except that I never get that drunk. I do remember our second meeting. It was in a coffee shop after she emailed me asking if I wanted to meet for coffee. What? Are you nuts? Of course, I'll have coffee. Who are you again? Oh yeah you're female - good enough for me. I'm game to meet any woman for coffee.

This was about 5 years ago. Our meeting was like any other work related meeting. We talked about clients, projects and work issues. She was married. I was married. I often met (meet) female coworkers for coffee - I consider this one of the joys of working. To be honest, that is all I ever did while I was married - meet for coffee. I'm not a person that plays the field - I'm loyal. Scewed up a bit but loyal.

So we have coffee a few times. Then we worked on a project together and that was it. We were associates, co-workers, colleagues but not friends - all we talked about was work. Until... Chuney sent me another email asking if we could get together. By that time I was separated and I needed any type of companionship that was being offered. Being a sensitive guy, I suggested going for coffee. Chuntney replies saying that she loves nice meals at restaurants - how about dinner?

Let me ask you, what would you do? As I mentioned, I might be a bit screwed up but I'm not stupid - I know a good thing when it is forced upon me. Chutney is a goddess. She reminds me of Lisa Ray. So we went for dinner. Remember she's married. Well not for long. By the time of our next dinner, Chutney tells me that she's separated.

And that is how our friendship started - talking about relationships, separation, divorce, pain, sorrow, hopes dashed, dating, longings and by the way, what should we have on tonight's menu?

Our friendship is strange - we've talked about everything and we've been to many restaurants for dinner. We've even travelled together but we are just friends and that is the beauty of what we want to share with others.

Welcome to our blog, our stories, our frustrations with dating and relationships and our unexplainable friendship. Enjoy.

Cocktale