Darling Readers,

The time has come to say goodbye.

It has been two years since @goodbyegal and I started this blog. It was the day after my Ex Husband told me he was leaving. I knew from that very moment that I needed an outlet. Already on Twitter, I decided that outlet was a group of virtual strangers. And what did I find? An amazing mix of fantastic people who were there to commiserate, empathize, lend support and even just an ear. I have been overwhelmed by the generosity of spirit coming from my blog readers. You all have kept me strong when I truly didn’t want to be.

This isn’t quite how I anticipated ending my participation in this bog but the time has come. My life is taking on many new directions and for the most part, they are wonderful. I will continue to share on my Twitter account and hope that you all will continue the fantastic support that has kept me going for these past two years.

My compadre in crime, @goodbyegal, will continue blogging here while taking on some new projects of her own. I owe her a debt of gratitude. My perennial bitch slap, @goodbyegal has been my wake-up call on more than one occasion. This journey would not have had the laughs it’s had without her.

I am eternally grateful to you all.

Best of luck in the journey,

LuckyBroad

Once upon a time, I was a Lost Girl. And, like most lost girls, I made mistakes. Those mistakes often including inviting people into my life who didn’t belong there. Some of these people were Bad Men.

At points toward the end of my marriage and beyond, I engaged in various virtual relationships with far-away men that were often emotional and certainly sexual. I’m sure they each got a little something different out of our encounters, but I’m fairly certain the end result was the same for me; I felt wanted and desired. What I wasn’t able to come to grips with in reality, I could manifest online. I felt I had complete control over these situations. In truth, I had none.

Last night, I was on chat when one of my former “Bad Men” found me. He was a man who was into the emotional mind games; enjoyed his “drama” and seeing what he could get out of “someone like me”. At one time, I enjoyed his company, but looking back, I truly can’t remember why. I remember distinctly a situation in which Bad Man exerted his control, and I succumbed, but not without a fight. He sensed the challenge and that made me only more viable to him. This theme is one that became resounding in my virtual liaisons; I am a challenge, one that must be conquered. In some ways, this has carried over to my real life as well.

When I chatted with Bad Man online last night, I realized how dull he is. He still throws out the occasional hook, but I don’t catch it and never will again. I keep our interactions short and wonder – what did I ever see in him? Was I really at such a low point in my life that I found THIS satisfactory?

The answer is yes. At one time, I ushered Bad Men in because they made me feel sexy and loved. I endured the mind-fucks for the sake of the attention, and countered all the slights with excuses. When I pulled away, they came on stronger. I took this as a sign of control when it was really the exact opposite. I was a pawn.

When Darwin (also in the “Bad Man” category) broke up with me a year ago. I realized what was happening. Feeling empowered from this break-up, I eradicated all these men from my life.

I’m not a victim. At one point, I needed this. And while I call them “Bad Men” because of my own mistakes, many of them are not. They were men, on a question for their own “something”.

For many years, this was me. Today, it is not. While the hurt and games were hardly worth it, the experience was invaluable. It’s all in the lessons we learn along the way.

By now, you’ve read a hundred blog posts on the topic of “size matters”. This is a spirited debate that @goodbyegal have on occasion, and I have to say, it’s one that never gets old for us. So, it’s Friday, you’re at work, you’re bored, why not jump on for another foray into the topic, shall we?

Many of you won’t believe me – but I don’t think that size matters. Honest. And I assure you, I have a good sampling under my belt with which to test this theory. Granted, I’ve got some sexual quirks which could possibly contribute to this philosophy. But, if I were going to look back historically at some of my most satisfying sexual encounters, they weren’t with Mr. Big Johnson.

Goodbyegal subscribes to a different theory. She has a pre-screening process by which her potential suitors and their units must submit to. Goodbyegal has some very specific peen requirements. For examples, they can’t be “turtles” (and we’ll spare this debate again) and they need to be pretty. I give Goodbyegal credit: when she re-dickrolls me, her contestants are rather nice looking.

I’m not saying either of us is right, or wrong. Just two different viewpoints in the ongoing size debate. I’m sure their are some biological issues that contribute to this desire to, but hell if I’m going to go all medical on you guys.

So, let’s discuss. Does Size Matter?

In the world of Online dating there is much room for deceit and deception, sometimes unknowingly. We are hidden behind words and images hand selected to show us in our best light. We include our strengths over our weaknesses and post our most flattering pictures over those which we feel are not. We intentionally project our most attractive features in hopes of catching the interest of a potential mate.

But so easily a profile written by one individual could be read by another and interpreted in a completely different manner then intended by the author. It could be better, it could be worse.

It’s easy to bend the perception of others with creative writing and clever angles in our images, but we must keep in mind that what you see is not always what you get.

I’m an average girl. I fully disclose this information in my profile and I am always sure to have a recent full body shot in my images. I know I am not every one’s cup of tea, I’m no statuesque model, but I’m cute and dare I say sexy in my own way.

There seems to be a reoccurring theme with me lately where a guy find my profile, skims my self assessment and photos, then sends me a message because he’s interested. We start to chat and he becomes more engaged to the point of asking to meet me. Then he discovers that I am, in fact, merely “average”…something that I would have expected he’d research prior to asking me to commit to meeting.

Just yesterday I received an email from a guy I had exchanged a few messages with. We live close and we are close in age (my two pre-qualifiers to accepting a date). He asked if I would be interested in meeting for a drink on Wed after work. I responded with a yes and my availability, he responded with the location and confirmation on the time.

This was a perfectly executed proposal and I was looking forward to learning more about him, so as I was entering his number into my Cell phone I sent him a text to say Hi.

He responded and we started to swap more information about each other. He asked me about my photos and how recent they were. I don’t bother posting 10 year old images, what’s the point? I started to get the feeling he hadn’t really looked at my profile too closely and that it’s likely I’m not his type, so I offered up “I’m not tall and skinny if that is what you are looking for. I’m Average as stated on my profile and can be seen in my recent full body shot”

About 10 minutes passes and I receive a reply “I am Sorry. You have a great face, just too full figured for me. Thanks for chatting and good luck.”

Date Canceled.

I can’t be upset by this. He was honest and polite. I’m not what he is looking for. I did my best to portray my true self to the world of online dating, but his initial perception led him astray… thinking with the wrong “head” no doubt

For the record I am a size 14 – “Average” by US Standards. 38D/36/42. I don’t know if that means I am full figured or not, but I use the Average descriptive for body type in my profile… please do correct me if I am wrong on this! It’s much appreciated.

As you may have heard, I’m back in the dating game. Over the past few weeks I’ve spent countless hours sifting through what feels like hundreds of potential suitors, exchanging messages with those who pique my interest and responding with a polite “thanks, but no thanks” to those who don’t. Well, it’s only a matter of time before you hit a sore spot and unearth a Loser.

Last night as I logged into one of my online dating inboxes I was greeted with, not one, but two messages from a very sore loser. He’d initiated the communication the night before with a subject line “fun fuck buddy here” and included a pic of his cock. The body of his message informed me how he could go all night long … Now, if this guy had bothered to read my profile he likely would have been advised that I was not looking for this type of relationship and could have saved himself some time and embarrassment.

I replied with a simple statement of “thank you, but I am not attracted and I’m not looking for a fuck buddy”. I thought I was honest and to the point, but apparently I hit a soft spot.

His first response was “I agree, you are not attractive, fat, and may I add, delusional … time to hit the gym Miss Piggy lmao”. First off, Guys – let’s try and get some originality in these insults, because calling me Fat is hardly offensive to me at this stage in my life, and Miss Piggy is super sexy, so I’m having a hard time accepting this as anything but a compliment.

He followed up with a second message, just to be sure to cover all potential bases for insult, with “no suprise you’re divorced and live alone with 2 cats … obviously you hate men and are deluded into thinking you’re attractive – I actually feel kinda sorry for you”. Being the mature woman that I am, I responded “and you, sir have an ugly cock!…I wouldn’t touch it if it was in a bubble!! Ew!!!”

As they say, it takes one bad apple to spoil the bunch, and while I was quite amused by all of this, I’ll be taking the read & delete approach with those I have no interest in for a while.

How do you handle sore losers?

As many of you know, I’m reading “Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough” and running Virtual Book Club (come join us)! In the current chapter, the author relays a situation where a woman “dismissed” a potential suitor because he didn’t reply to her email within her desired time frame. She had to wait – get this – twelve hours. In that twelve  hours, the guy had attended his son’s graduation and after-dinner party, but this response time was still “unacceptable” to her. To me, he dodged a bullet.

This reminds me of the Psycho I dated for one week last year. One of the “warning” signs was the unnecessary follow-up texts. It went like this.

Him: “Hi there, how was your day?”

Me: (no response, because I’m in a three hour training session).

Him: “I see. Are you busy?”

Me: (still not responding, phone not even turned on).

Him: “What, are you mad at me? What gives?”

This entire transaction took place within 30 minutes. Thirty-minutes. 3-0.

Where am I going with this? Well, I’m going to throw out (and then duck) that we (mankind, not judging men/women here) have set up these ridiculously unrealistic expectations on response time from our mates. And really, I only say “mates” here, because if your BFF texts you, and you don’t respond for 3 hours, you generally wouldn’t be too concerned. There’s something about dating that forces us to channel our anticipation (and by default, insecurity) into technological means. And somewhere along the way, as in the examples above, we seem to have lost sight of something; we are all still living way beyond our phones and internet.

I’m not a saint; I, too, have fallen victim to this peril. I assure you, I’m far more of a Luddite than most people I know, and yet I’ve done it – translated a delayed response into a beacon for the Apocalypse. But when you sit down, and think about it logically, it’s really just kinda silly. For example: I have a crappy cell service. I work in a cement basement: no service. I don’t get a cell signal in my house unless I stand on one foot, in the dining room, when the moon is full and the Year is Rabbit. I’m not ignoring anyone – I’m just living with the reality of my situation.

Even if I did have perfect service, isn’t it reasonable to expect that people are not attached to their phones on a minute-by-minute basis? I won’t get started here on the etiquette of dinner with friends who spend the majority texting, and I’m certainly not saying there aren’t reasons why this might be perfectly legitimate. But when it comes to a “dating” situation, aren’t we setting ourselves up for failure by expecting immediate, all-consuming attention via technological means? Is this not a giant flag of insecurity from which we should run far and fast? Am I living in the dark ages?

I don’t know the answer, but I do know enough about interpersonal communication to state that a text is not the same as an in person conversation, and yet we’ve gone ahead and treated it like such. I welcome all thoughts, and I’m ready to take my old-fogey credence if that’s what’s desired.

Bring It.

It’s been a while since I’ve encountered a bad kisser, and Local Guy is undeniably bad.  He purses his lips and pecks. Peck, peck, peck.

We had plans to meet for the first time on Thursday, but the weather caused us to reschedule. Since we had yet to speak on the phone I decided he could call me. As we got to know each other better he began asking some very specific questions about where I work and I told him it was making me a little uncomfortable, but then it came out that he grew up with a guy who used to work with me and I was really close to. Based on that I was already feeling very comfortable about our 1st date.

Thanks to snow I was forced to base my 1st date outfit on my snowboots, so when things were going well at coffee and he asked if I wanted to grab a drink elsewhere I told him I wouldn’t feel comfortable in a bar dressed as I was, but he could come over for a couple beers at my place if he wanted to hang out.

He was acting really nervous and I jokingly asked “am I intimidating you?” to which he replied “Only a little”. I don’t get it at all. I am just a girl, a normal girl…what is so intimidating? I think I am easy to talk to and comfortable to be around, but he was totally not relaxing.

We watched tv, had a few beers and chatted about this and that. Slowly he started to relax and we even moved to touching and holding hands… it was nice and  he has these amazing hands… warm, strong hands. We eventually started to doze off on the couch and I had to get up for a lunch date with JJ, so I sent him home.

The next day I wake up and shoot him a text message about what a nice time I had and asked what he was up to later. Turns out he was planning a movie and more couch time with me

He arrives and greets me with a peck. I pour some wine, pop in the movie, which we end up chatting over and not really watching. and then we eventually get to the point of the night where he comes in for a kiss. Peck, peck, peck…. ugh. “Really? Is that what you got?” I huffed at him. I think it shocked him, but up to this point I was totally open and honest about everything, so if he was paying attention to my personality it shouldn’t have disturbed him much.

He may have potential, but do I have the desire to train? He is very handsome, but so shy and insecure. I need a man who shows what he wants and to quote my earlier tweet “if you can’t kiss me like you wanna f*ck me, then you’re never getting invited to.”

I haven’t fully dismissed Local Guy, but I’m still on the dating train and waiting for my next stop.

When it comes to Friends with Benefits, I don’t do sleep-overs.

This is not necessarily a hard and fast rule. Some circumstances have required that a sleep-over ensue, and I have obliged, but as a general rule of thumb, unless we are in love or on our way, I’m not sleeping next to you.

Why? Well, let’s go ahead and assume we all understand the emotional complications that arise when spending the night. There’s the spooning, and the snoring – the drool that covers the pillow and the kicking that occurs. There’s the waking up in someone’s arm, the toleration of morning breathe and the potential awkwardness that arises when in the morning, you may or may not have anything to talk about.

When I entered Single-Girlhood, I swore off the sleep-over. And with one major exception (from which I declared, eventually, “no more sleepovers”, I have stuck to my gun.

My bed is my solace. When I come home I night, I’m centered. I’m reminded who I am and what I’m going for. I’m reminded that the person I just had sex with serves a purpose that is not generally emotional, it’s physical. It gives me a chance to establish some guidelines and enforce my own rules. My bed is my domain, and I only want those in it who belong there.

What are your thoughts?

Last night I was having dinner with a friend and discussing what happens to your friendly Exes when you enter into a relationship. It’s a timely and interesting topic, and one that hits very close to home for me at many levels.

Zinc’s best friend is a former Ex-girlfriend. And I mean way former – like high school. She lives far away but I know they communicate often and I don’t feel threatened by that in the least. But what if she lived closer? Would my feelings change? In truth, they probably would. But why? She appears to be happily married, and well on her way to a life to the life she wants. I don’t sense any motivations that she’s trying to win Zinc back and find their friendship to be healthy and productive. So why would I be threatened if she lived closer? I truly don’t know.

When it comes to Exes in our lives, it’s a conundrum that many women seem to come at from varying viewpoints. And I am singling out “women” here because admittedly, men seem to have a far easier time adjusting to this than we do. In general, I have found myself relatively comfortable with the “Ex” situation in my life. My Ex-Husband had a very nice Ex girlfriend who used to write him and send him post cards from her travels. When she came to visit our area one day, he declined to meet up with her. Why? I presume because hew as afraid of my feelings, but I certainly didn’t feel threatened by an Ex passing through town. Apparently, however,  he did (a telling sign? That’s another blog post for another day).

What I see happen more than not is that women force a man to choose. It’s her (the current girlfriend) – or it’s her (the former now friend). Now, I’m not saying that their aren’t scenarios where this isn’t appropriate (although you do have to wonder if you can’t trust your man enough to hang out with their Ex, why you’re with him at all). But I do wonder why it is this is necessary. We feel jealous, and threatened and all of those other burgeoning insecurities. But in the end – aren’t the Exes the safest people of all? I mean, the guy  has already passed them over once (or maybe more!). It’s like they’ve been checked off the cosmic list, which in my book, makes them pretty safe.

I know many will disagree with me, but in truth, it makes me sad. My friend last night said I’m a 60s relationship child that wants everyone to hug in one giant chorus of “Kumbaya” before passing the peace pipe. I think she’s right; I’m always looking for harmonious relationships and if nothing else, assuming the relationship ended in a “just friends” instance, why wouldn’t I want my Ex to go on to find someone who makes him happy? What makes me sad is that just by virtue of my “Ex-hood”, there is no longer a place for me in that scenario for reasons that I just have trouble grasping.

I welcome your thoughts. Why do the friendly Exes often have to go?

I’ll never forget …

Your face, your smell, your touch, your kiss.

The laughs, the love, the longing.

First, last, and every second in between.

Watching you, watching me, watching you.

The music, the food, the feeling of being alone with you in the midst of millions.

The girl I was then and have since left behind.

The man I thought you were, but will never be again.

The day you broke my heart.

….but above all that, I will never forgive you for making me feel so insecure and humiliated when I reluctantly fulfilled your request the last time we “saw” eachother … those feelings resound every time I think of you and nothing will ever change that.