Closed Blog

All right, this is the last post of Girl of True Heart.

I invite you to find me at:

Fourth Decade: Sucking the Marrow Out of Life since 1969.

I'll be posting there as One Lusty Sagittarian.

;-)

Special note: For those of you subscribing via email...you now have to click on the sidebar options in the new blog under the You Want Me? title. Options there will allow you to bookmark my blog in your web page favorites. I'm working on an email option and when I have one, I'll let you know.

If you decide to part ways, I wish you well!

Renovations Part II

There's much about which to blog, but I'm fixated on finding/making a new blog home.

Anyone have any suggestions, don't hesitate.

I just feel it is time. 2007 is so....long....ago.

Renovations

I don't know if I have any readers left, but stand by....

We're going under construction.

May not be this site, may not be this blog title....

But I will be back, and I will let you know where and when!

Have I Found My People?

"Take these broken wings
You've got to learn to fly, learn to live and love so free"

I think I may have found my people, and I think freedom is mine for the having.

One night of spanking and look out...I feel set free.

Who knew?
Not me.

Last night...

A bit of an epiphany happened for me.

(Let's pause while we hear harps and angels sing.)

I was at a party of about 100 people (among them were 3 of the people I met last week).

There was such a fascinating cross-section of people. People who were gathered together from many different walks of life and many different generations. And they'd come together for a charity purpose, to donate funds for a beloved friend who is battling cancer.

And they'd chosen to go about raising funds with a spank-a-thon.

I think the highest bidder went for $350.

My own novice spank-worthiness came in at $100. Not bad considering I'd never given my ass more than a passing thought. Let's face it, my ass is just large. I don't have delicious ghetto booty. JLo and I will not be confused anytime soon.

But back to my epiphany. No one cared or passed judgment on anyone else for their size, their color, their interest, their clothing. At least not that I could detect. It was like being in a strange surreality.

Oh sure there were raving compliments about where did you get that and how did you get your hair like that and where did you get those boots and what type of makeup are you wearing, etc. etc. but there didn't seem to be any petty jealousy or snide remarks or anyone being left out in the cold so to speak. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I like to think I'm fairly tuned to the drama that only human females seem capable of creating.

I think this general acceptance must come because these people are already on the outer fringe of unusualness. I mean, hello....they like to spank for fun....so perhaps because they've had to deal with their own form of being thought odd and judged, they understand what it feels like and they don't do it to others.

As for The Actor who invited me, he was so much more than nice to me. He kept me under his wing so to speak, introducing me around even though he was one of the organizers and had a lot of, well, organizing to do.

But when it came time to participate, he didn't let me out of his sight. In fact, he told me he was looking forward to bidding on my ass all night. Not every day a guy tells you that!

And let me tell you something else, that man knows what the hell he is doing. I have the sore buttocks to prove it.

This was not your "You wait until your father gets home, you'll be so sore, you won't sit for a week" 1950s style spanking. This was much more of a prolonged, dare I say, sensual spanking.

It went like whack whack rub / whack whack rub / whack whack rub.

*ahem*

Where was I?

Right. Yes, it was quite enjoyable.

Actually, I felt a lot of tension leave my body. There is a kinetic transfer of energy from one power source into another power source and returned. It was like sharing a moment between bodies despite being fully clothed. The Actor confirmed this sensation, and in fact, he seemed highly charged from it.

So the spankings were fun, and watching everyone else laugh together and joke around were enlightening moments for me. Here was a group of people who - for the timeframe - seemed to be completely enjoying their moments.

For me though, the best moments without a doubt were the long hugs and shoulder massages afterward. I think I need a cuddle fest next.

The Actor confessed to crushing on a married woman (who was not there), and I confessed to only coming to the party to see him (I know...I gave it all away). We had several long looks in which I thought he wanted to kiss me, and instead he went in for either a long hug or a kiss on the cheek. Funny, you can spank someone's ass with your bare hand, but you can't kiss them on the lips. You know, that might send a wrong signal.

Oh well, at the end of the night, he mentioned he would be giving a lecture on humor in May, and he hoped I could attend. I asked him to send me the information by email, and I would do my best to come back into the city.

What I didn't mention, was that I would try to see him before then as well.


"All we have to do now
Is take these ties and make them true somehow
All we have to see
Is that I don't belong to you
And you don't belong to me
Freedom
You've gotta give for what you take
Freedom
You've gotta give for what you take"

Skirt, Boots & a Smile

Well it seems as though 3 things helped me find some new-found friends in NYC this Saturday:

• my skirt (purchased for The Photographer and his motorcycle ride that never came around)
• my boots (had them for years, rarely worn)
• my smile (always had it, need to use it more)

I went to a group meeting of "BBWs/BHMs and the people who love them."

UGH! I dislike those labels. I dislike most labels. I also never identified with the term BBW, because for the longest time I was under the mis-impression that it stood for Big Black Woman. But even once I learned that was incorrect and it stands for Big Beautiful Woman (and BHM is Big Handsome Man), I still felt it didn't apply to me because I believe the term describes a woman who has large size breasts. That's not me. I'm just fat.

But I went to this meeting because I wanted to be around other woman who felt confident and celebratory of who they are, regardless of size. They indicate in their group description that they promote size acceptance in public places. The event on Saturday was to attend a club together after meeting up at a rendezvous point. Going to a club is something else I've always wanted to do but without local friends, has been impossible for me to accomplish.

I thought it would be a little like walking into an imagined addict's meeting. "Hi my name is ... and I'm a big beautiful woman who is avoiding high GI carbs and trying to lose weight." Wrong silly! This was about size acceptance...this was about seeing women (and men) who were many sizes larger than me sitting down, looking fashionable and beautiful, and eating whatever they wanted to order off the menu.

I was nervous. Too nervous to eat really. Like day-before-I-get-on-an-airplane nervous. But I arrived late and so it was easy enough not to make a big deal out of the food selection. And no one but me cared anyway. They were all engrossed in on-going conversations from movies to food to clubs to online dating profiles to the last group's meeting. There were 50, 40, 30somethings and even a 20something. There was an equal split of men and women, which I learned is not always the case. Everyone was really glad the men were there, as all the women agreed we've had enough kvetching amongst ourselves in general.

Everyone was super friendly, asking me all sorts of questions and expressing both surprise and delight that I had traveled in from Jersey.

It came time to decide to go on to the club or go home. As nervous as I was, there was no way I was going home already. An $8 bridge toll, a $6 taxi ride, and a $4 meal, and I was already invested in seeing this night through to the end, especially as the group was able to discount entry into the club.

Walking down a NYC street with a group of people dressed for clubbing, I felt a glimmer of my former self. It came flashing back, walking down to clubs, feeling that excitement, mostly for the music, the lights, and the sense that one could get "lost" in a crowd. I liked the feeling of my boots, and I mentioned that to the woman walking next to me. One of the guys asked how it felt to be out on the streets of NYC as a self-confessed "country girl" and I told him it felt absolutely exhilarating. And it did. The nerves had turned to butterfly excitement.

But I don't know how people do it on a regular basis. The club was so small. Luckily it wasn't packed or too hot. I wouldn't have been able to contain my suffocating feelings that sometimes surface when space and air are constrained. I was actually thrilled it was so cold out and I didn't feel overheated at all in my boots.

Inside the venue, there were many different types of people. Skinny skinnies and inbetweens, and at first I thought "This place is too small for us..." but it wasn't at all. Somehow the hallways and rooms and stairwells absorbed us. I never felt "too large" at any point. No skinny chick had to "squeeze" by me ever. Must have been a strange alignment of the planets. So the group I was in all wandered around in pairs and trios and chattered and gazed about at the scene. It was good, and I started to enjoy the moment, sipping on my drink.

It wasn't long before people came to mingle with us. Mostly men. Some in jackets, some in t-shirts, some in jeans, some in dress pants. Young, old, and all sorts of colors of the rainbow. Some men had nipple piercings you could see through their shirts and some had facial piercings as well. It was rather unique and different from the windowless walls of the scientific environment I spend most of my days. It reminded me of my college days, and I felt young again.

At one point I was surrounded by 3 men, all talking to me. They were talking to each other as well, but clearly only to be friendly. For every answer they gave the other guys, they added a question to me. Basic small talk, but still it felt good for my ego. They didn't seem to mind my size at all and there were plenty of skinnies to talk to instead if they wanted. One guy from Long Island openly lamented that it was a shame I didn't come into the city more often, and that there are no interesting women where he lives (I am not slamming LI, I've never even been there). I wanted to keep moving around so I said I was going to go get another drink, and before you knew it, they were discussing who was going to buy it for me. It turned into a "you get this one, I'll get the next one." Little did they know there wouldn't be a next one. I was driving later; two drinks max.

Their friends came over and eventually took them away or they excused themselves to hit the restroom, which was all fine by me. I wanted to people watch and just absorb it all and you can't really do that when someone's asking you to remember what your reality is like instead.

So as I was leaning against a railing alone and just sort of staring out into the crowd, I felt someone come up next to me and just stand there as well. He was just surveying the crowd as well. Then he said, "So what do you think?" he gestured with his hand to the room.

I looked over at him. Good looking guy, on the thin, lanky side. Late 30s I guessed. I said, "I like it here..."

He smiled and extended his hand to me, telling me his name. I told him mine and he affirmed it was my first time here, blah blah blah. Where am I from what do I do. I smiled best I could, but I was so tired of small talk. He told me he's an actor, and I raised a brow and asked how it was going. He said he's gotten a few good bit roles lately, notably with a major network of quality TV (you'd be able to guess fairly quickly). I congratulated him and tried not to seem too impressed. Actors don't need anymore ego.

A few of "my people" from my group came over, and....I thought that would be the end of that conversation. But no, they knew him. And I watched their interactions with him. Everyone seemed genuinely warm and friendly. Or he's a good actor. Ha.

Anyway, it was time to go already, and The Actor expressed great disappointment in seeing us go. Other people were exchanging contact information. The 20something was passing around her blackberry for people to add in their email addys. After I did and The Actor did, he looked at me and said I should look him up. I said I would, making a mental note to touch base with the 20something outside. It is well noted that he was too casual about it to give it to me himself, but I was also too lazy to pull my own blackberry out of my boot.

Then someone made a comment about getting together next weekend. And voila! like magic, The Actor pulled out invitations to a party this coming Saturday and passed them around. I have to admit in that moment I was quite giddy.

And when he handed one to me, he leaned in super close (like tickle-my-ear-with-your-breath close) and said, "I hope you can come, I'd love to see you again."

Um-hm.

First thought: what a great actor!

Second thought: why the hell not!?

And once outside, I collect the email addy he gave the 20something, and then I'm walking down the street to catch a cab in my boots and oh-so-obvious-non-city ways. As I'm waiting for the yellow vehicle to reach me, I finally looked down at the invitation in my hand.

Well, this is a first.

I have been invited to a spank-a-thon.

Game Over

On March 14, I asked, "Can unexpected lustful chemistry grow into something more?"

Three weeks later, I have the answer: Apparently not.

Yes, The Photographer and I were communicating daily, often quite lengthy conversations. He told me over and over and over again how much he couldn't wait to see me.

But once he returned from California, got over jet lag, and began to edit his photo galleries, he refused to set a 2nd date.

I called him on his bluff. He said he has (yes, still) every intention of getting together, he's just "really swamped" -- the similar excuse used before he went away to California.

This despite our 9-, then 12-day challenge to one another to abstain from self-gratification. This despite the trust that I thought I had developed....clearly only in my mind.

Something is not right. His time is not his own. Somehow. Maybe he IS married. Or maybe he is just a clueless guy who thinks he can keep a woman hanging on. Or maybe, Ta-Effin-da (say it with me!) HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO ME.


Well, guess what? This chick is outta here.

NEXT!



(Oh and yes, I reset the pleasure button. Phew. I feel so much better now.)

Cavoli Beach- Isola D'Elba - Italia

Who couldn't use a tiny split moment of a beautiful location? (Video snippet below for you emailers who may not see it.)





Compliments of my friend, Molto Bello Italia.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled tortured existence.

(Oh wait, is that just my life?)

Day 10 Plus

Well, Days 9 and 10 of the Master of My Domain challenge were absolutely brutal for me. And there wasn't even technically supposed to be a Day 10. Erf.

An acquaintance of mine planted a seed in my head on Day 9, oh-so-innocently: "I bet The Photographer's married..."

No. Absolutely not.

I have no reason to think he's lying to me.

*pause*
*pause*
*pause*

Well, he is vague about his schedule...

No. Absolutely not.

GodIeffinhopenotbecauseIwillkickhiseverlovingassalloverthestateofNewJersey.

*breathe*
*breathe*
*breathe*

Long long long conversation with The Photographer today.

Hi, I missed you and I can't wait to see you etc etc etc were his thoughts.

Yeah yadda yadda yadda, when, when, when were my thoughts.

Oh......shit.

You don't just TAKE photos? You have to EDIT them?

Hmph. Hire an bloody assistant!

No of course not. That's like asking someone to rewrite my poems for me.

So the short of it is....

WAIT ANOTHER 2 DAYS.

I'm a cranky, angry, nearly violent Sagittarian woman. I almost took the salon receptionist's head off when she told me there were no timeslots available for waxing until Saturday.

Do not make me wait! Any longer! For anything!

I warned him. Which probably makes me less appealing I realize. But I don't care!

The Photographer has until Saturday midnight or I take matters into my own hands, literally. And he can do the same for all I care!

Just a little addendum....

Some women (more than 3) have said to me: "Oh just take care of it...he'll never know if you did or not."

*blank stare*

Excuse me?

I get it. I do.

But....this was an exercise in trust. Self-control yes, but also trust.

What's wrong with starting a relationship off with trust? Seems an important element to me.

Day 9: Victorious

Day 9....I am still alive.

The best news is so is The Photographer.

We're on the honor system here, but neither of us have given in to our urges and we remain Masters of our Domains.

It will still be some days until we meet. *sigh*

To celebrate....

(no, not really)

It just so happens that....

I have some free samples of one of the supplements I'm taking as I mentioned in the post February Plan. The samples are tiny vials of liquid hoodia. Please read that post first to make sure you want it.

First person who wants them and leaves me an email address in their comment below, gets them. I'll contact you for a shipping address.

Weight & Food

Time to write a bit about weight...and food....

When this story came out last week, I was so appalled, I couldn't even share a thought about it with anyone. Yes, indeed, everyone needs to have goals in life, but to become the fattest woman in the world?

Really?

Her name is Donna.
She lives in New Jersey.
And she's not me.
Thank God.

Aiming to be the world's fattest woman

The super-sized mother determined to become the world's fattest woman

Of course, guess what one thing I picked up on while reading those articles?

Yup, she's got someone in her life who loves her. He loves her so much, he's helping her kill herself.

Damn, I wish I had someone like that in my life!

No, of course I don't! But wow....she has someone who accepts her the way she is. That's both beautiful and messed up.

~

So now that food no longer holds power over me because of the supplements I'm taking, I wanted to document a bit about what I have been choosing to eat. Because of course, it still matters, even if I'm no longer pre-occupied by it.

My main proteins are egg whites, eggs, organic buffalo, chicken, edamame, and whey.

My main veggies are peppers and onions, which have a lot of carbs in them. As soon as the warmer weather comes, I'll start doing salads again.

I would be lost without my shirataki noodles. ALL they are is FIBER! That's it! I mix them with either EVOO, Parmesan cheese, and garlic or with a Thai peanut sauce. I found that having a box of Dreamfield pasta in the house was too much temptation still (as in the whole box is quickly gone).

My favorite snacky items are blueberries, walnuts, nonfat greek yogurt, and ghiradelli 82% dark chocolate (one square/day).

I have mini luna bars in the car for emergencies (peanut butter), and I enjoy one cup of tea in the morning with a vitatop cranbran muffin top.

This weekend, I've just added this 40 cal/4 carb super green food supplement to my menu, mixed with light V8 juice.

As for alcohol intake, it is limited to two Thursdays a month, when out with coworkers. And I suppose the occasional baseball-game-gathering in the future.

Conclusion: I'm eating really well. Better than I've ever eaten in my life.

The benefits can come rolling in anytime now.

Hair Photos

Below are photos from Saturday, when I went for my free follow-up hair trim to get the dead ends removed one week after the keratin treatment. It is much more of a texture difference than a visual difference, in my opinion.

(Yes, that's static....odd.)

I just hope my hair can go back to normal now. I'm not going to blow dry it every day anymore, and see if that helps too. One day blow it straight, then the next day, wear it wavy.

~

I also saw the movie "Remember Me." Erf. I thought I was just going to make love to a much younger man on a screen and slip into his smoldering eyes without having to think. But pretty soon into it I realized this movie was going to carry weight beyond that "teen angst" they'd shown in previews. I don't want to give anything away, but if you want to know leave me a message and I'll tell you.

~

One good thing about losing my mind with this whole 9-day abstinence challenge? I've exercised a lot more than I would have, just to try to offset the physical side of things and tire the mind out as well. I could see applying this kind of restraint in the future for a good purpose. No wonder boxers are told not to have sex when they're training for a fight. Yo, Adrian!

Today is the end of day 7. Mr Photographer flies the redeye home from Cali tomorrow night. The end of March shall set me free. Whether or not it also sets me in his arms remains to be seen.

Day 5: Way Too Long to Go

I can't count anymore...something like 144 hours left....I don't know. My mind is mush.

When I close my eyes, I see naked men dancing. In a congo line.

How am I going to survive the weekend?


Exercise.
Exercise.
Exercise.
Clean the house.
Watch movies.

Hmmm, no wonder so many married women's homes are so clean....

Keratin Hair Therapy

Well, I'm here to report that I did not have the horrible experience that some people on the webby are reporting with their keratin hair treatment. But I'm also not going to report that it is a miracle hair saver.

Is my hair softer, lighter, thinner, straighter, and easier to manage? Yes, for the most part. did it hold the hair dye better? Yes, definitely.

What it didn't do is transform my dead hair into alive hair. I still need to have several inches cut off from the bottom. There's just no way around it.

And the sooner I get this done, the sooner it can grow back. But I'm still feeling whiny about it. I like my long hair. But what's the point if you can't effectively style 3-4 inches of it?

Last commentary about getting keratin hair therapy done...

Go to a salon that knows what it is doing. Some people may only have to leave it on for 1 day; some have to leave it on for 3 days. It depends how damaged your hair is, the texture etc.

Know going in that you will not be able to wash or put your hair up into a binder in any way for 1-3 days. I didn't know this and it was a pain in the ass to deal with.

Would I do it again? Well, this is supposed to last 6 months. If it lasts even 3 months, I would say it is worth it at $200. But I'm not sure I would do it again.

48 Hours In (168 Hours Left)

I'm not sure how good it is for me to focus on time gone by / time left. I think it causes me to miss the time in-between.

The treadmill gave me a good high last night, the lovely release of endorphins and serotonin doing their jobs. Honestly, I was almost too tired to think about self-gratifying myself.

That is of course until I looked at the photo The Photographer sent of himself the previous day to tease me. We're not talking stereotypically dropdead hot here, but there's something about him that makes me swoony and want to hug him.

I'm glad that Sawyer wasn't on last night's episode of LOST. I would have had a hard time.

24 Hours In (192 Hours Left)

Anyone remember this cute little movie, 40 Days and 40 Nights?

Well, my Nine Day contest definitely isn't for Lent, but it sure is for a greater sense of self empowerment.

At least that is what I'm telling myself after the first 24 hours of abstinence.

I am a self-confessed 2x/day-er. Morning and night.

What?
Why not?
What's wrong with that?
Nothing.
Exactly.

But last night as I put my friend The Blue Dolphin (whom you may refer to as BOB in your life) away somewhere so I wouldn't be reminded of him in the days to come, I thought this little experimental contest with The Photographer is exactly in line with my goals....to achieve control over things that I choose to control. Eating, exercising, self-gratification, it is all one in the same!

TA-EFFIN-DA!

Even though The Photographer got cutesy on me, sending over a shirtless photo of himself to "push me over the edge," while razzing me that I couldn't last 24 hours, I held out!

It's in the bag. I got this.

Master of My Domain: Game On

WARNING: OK send the ankle-biters and jailbait out of the room. I'm going to talk about sexual things.

A funny thing happened yesterday that I was going to keep to myself. But then I realized after a bit that it was going to somewhat consume me for the rest of March, and there's no way I could not record my thoughts here.

The Photographer and I jokingly (at first) challenged each other to a "Master of My Domain" contest.

Umhm. Do I need to elaborate? Oh you know how good I am at elaborating, but I'll let Jerry, Elaine, George, and Kramer help me explain (until they disable the video feed).

Yes. Can you say, "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!"

Anyone who knows me will know I've given up a lot of things in recent years. I eat better, drink less, workout more, and think positively more than I have ever consciously done in my life. So, really, the idea of "giving up" something else makes me feel a bit like "Holy crap, what else is there to take away?" (Don't answer that, you can't take my baseball, my movies, or my TV from me! I will fight you off! Back!)

But I was touched by The Photographer's approach to our being apart and his willingness to turn the long distance into something we can share together. Instead of focusing on being unable to meet, we're focusing on how great it'll be to achieve something together. In many many ways, it is MUCH too early in knowing each other to share something this intimate, yet it feels OK with me. I'll blame that on spring.

But even if this is going to be nothing more than a spring fling, I can't see it doing me any harm (besides driving my hormones insane) to challenge myself to feel good. And if the reward at the end of the rainbow is the Object of My Lust, sign me up.

So, for you voyeurs who will watch the torture unfold, here are the details:

Length of Time: Nine Days (Started March 22; ends March 31 midnight). This is the length of The Photographer's California trip (plus two days for potential jet lag).

Details: No self-gratification or sex of any kind.

Yes, I will entertain questions! Ask away!

And read the next post for the First 24 Hours.

Spring Things

There are many things I have to do....bills to pay, some work to catch up on, laundry, yard work, not to mention a week's worth of tv shows DVR'd. And October plane tickets to buy. Who has time for all this?

And to think I wanted to go see Alice in Wonderland, Remember Me, and The Bounty Hunter. What am I thinking?

Priorities, my friends, priorities.

Which is why of course, I'm blogging instead, about lust no less. *rolling eyes here*

Hey, "I'm a Sagittarian" explains everything.

The Spring Thing has hit full force. 40 degrees one day; 75 degrees the next. Too much too soon, I can barely breathe. I mourn the loss of the chill in the air that reminds me I'm alive.

However, spring has stirred my hormones like a pitcher of sangria, and I've been in lustful communication with both Mr Real Potential and The Photographer on a daily basis. Sadly, lustful communication does not translate into a 2nd face-to-face date with either.

Mr Real Potential is due back in Jersey this week, yet for some reason that's not happening. Perhaps next week, he says. We talk about Sox and socks and dogs and how it is still 46 degrees in Minnesota and what we'll do when we see each other again (I like the dinner option, and he's favoring the ripping the clothes off option which I secretly favor as well).

The Photographer and I were supposed to get together today, but it's not happening. And I'm annoyed but realize that I cannot be a petulant child about this. We're adults with lives. Right? Right. I'm trying to figure out how his life works. It is rather complicated it seems, and it may be too complicated and busy for me to fit into it. But if a guy wants a woman in his life, he'll make it happen.

So we talk a lot, but I find myself thinking if he'd just come see me instead of talking about it....I don't know. He's got an unexpected shoot (how do those happen I wonder) today, and he's got an earlier than thought flight to California Monday night. So it is what it is. He got me with the line, "When I see you again I don't just want to spend an hour and leave you," so he gets a pass for being romantic. He'll be gone for 7 days, working on a golf and bikini tournament. I kid you not. So there's balls and breasts and asses and god knows what else for him to deal with on a daily working basis. Perhaps I'll be some sanity in his day to text message? I don't know how it'll be. But I guess we'll see. If he's with a bevvy of bikini models and it is me he's messaging....I would think that's a good sign.

I have to say, I have hotter feelings for The Photographer but only because Mr Real Potential pulled back first. So, in conclusion, I'm taking it for what it is right now. In this moment, it is very nice to have these two men to flirt with on a regular basis. They have met me face-to-face and they still like me, and if I get 2nd dates out of them, I will be happy. I'll just keep my hormones in check with the treadmill.

In other news, I bought my very first skirt to wear for a man. Those of you who wear skirts for work, or just because you like them, can judge me all you want for being influenced by male preference, but until I heard a man say to me, "I'd love to see you in a skirt," I never saw a valid reason to try to buy one again (outside of the desperate must-wear-for-an-event situation).

Seven skirts failed. But one....the one I thought would be the worst actually....skirt liked me and I liked it. So I bought it, even though it is 2 sizes too big already. Yup. Paying $25 to have it tailored. That's when you know it is love. I like how I feel in it, and I like the idea of wearing it.


In addition, I bought 2 casual dresses. I know. Bizarre. One green, one pink. And tights. This spring definitely feels different than other springs.

And lastly, I had a procedure done on my hair. Yes, a procedure...may as well have been surgery. Come to find out there's some controversy out there about it too. Great. Some people have had hair loss. Great. Three hours of wearing some nasty smelling stuff (keratin complex, anyone?) on my head and THEN having it dried in and "sealed." I have to not wash my hair for 3 days (WHAT!?) and then I have been guaranteed to have 6 months of supple soft hair again. I don't know if I can wait 3 days. I really don't.

Why did I do this? Well, you see, I killed my hair somehow. In one year's time I went from soft silky hair to hair I couldn't even get my fingers through. All the natural keratin and cuticle are gone, and I'm more than a little afraid that I'm inheriting my mother's Sjogren's syndrome, but let's just err on the side of rationality that I've simply burned my hair too much right now.

So that's that in spring news. What have you got going on?

Unexpected Lustful Chemstry

Can unexpected lustful chemistry grow into something more? I don't know, but I want to enjoy the ride.

What I knew about Thursday night's date was he was a photographer, lived about 25 minutes away, and really really really wanted to meet me.

He wanted to meet me so much that I thought two things 1. he's one of those online jokers who just say they want to meet because that's the thrill for them and never actually meet anyone or 2. he was desperate (and I mean desperate) for a plus-size model or a roll in the sheets.

So, tired as I was, off I went with the most laid back "he's not even going to show up" mindset. I just had that vibe that whatever was going to happen tonight, it wasn't going to be a big deal. I still dressed as nicely as I could, black boatneck shirt, pink scarf, black half-trench coat, jeans, boots.

Part of the success of having a good first meet with someone via online, is that you can start the friendly, playful joking exchange before you meet and it helps break the ice.

For example, we had been trading two jokes back and forth during the day via messages.

One joke was that if it wasn't raining, he'd show up on his motorcycle and I'd be wearing a skirt, and that would be that, it'd be a match made in heaven (because I like motorcycles and he likes skirts, get it?).

(Side note: The sad reality is that I don't own a skirt. Not a single one. I might have to rectify that, but I really really hate them.)

The other joke was that if it was raining (and it definitely was) that I would be the one without the umbrella and he would be the stranger on the street who "rescues me" from the rain because we all know that's just how it's done in the movies.

Well, that's exactly what happened. He was standing on the street corner as I came walking up from the parking lot, umbrella-less, scarf flying as I tried in whacky Bridget-Jones style to secure it around my head without simultaneously dropping my crackberry into a puddle. The Photographer had a huge umbrella, a brown leather bomber jacket on, and a really warm look on his face as we met. We hugged hello like we'd been friends for ages, one of those body-to-body hugs that make you feel warm and secure. I don't know why it happened, maybe it was the weather, but I'd like to think it had something to do with us.

Even one-armed as he held onto the umbrella in the wind, his embrace was strong and confident. I wanted to crawl right into his bomber jacket because I was freezing, yes me....the normally cold-loving one was freezing. A very good indication that I was getting sick.

The other indication? When I went to speak, I suddenly sounded like the lovechild of Kathleen Turner and Demi Moore. Wow, I was rocking the sexy voice that night.

We headed to our destination of my choice, a bar that I knew had some cozy booths. We walk in and......the booths are gone. I must have looked crushed, because he leaned in against my ear and said "Don't worry, we'll find a place to sit down..." but there weren't even any tables. Seems the establishment clears things out on busy nights to pack more people in. Live music was expected in 2 hours etc etc etc.

He rolled right with the punch while I frantically searched my mind for a nice place. His philosophy "There's a million other options if the first one doesn't work out." I came up with nothing and we wandered outside huddled together walking up the street. The wind blew his umbrella inside out, and I was clinging to his arm and burying my face against his coat. We ran into the first open door we could find...which turned out to be a LOUD crowded unromantic well-lit restaurant blasting 80s music. But...it had booths. OK, we'd make do.

He helped me with my coat and then put them on one side of the booth, looked at me and said, "Can I sit here?" meaning on my side of the booth. I am not sure if I was grinning on the outside but on the inside I felt like the Cheshire Cat. So he sat down, our legs touched immediately, and I turned a bit so I could make eye contact with him, which is a big thing with me. And I saw that he was nervous. That made me melt.

Conversation flowed in buckets like the rain outside.

Curious cat that I am, I asked him every question I could about photography. How, when, why, who, and where. I got a boatload of answers that left me more than a little awestruck. He's been everywhere and he knows...well...just about everyone in the music and celebrity industries. Yes, including some of my favorites. Yes, Bruce. He phrased it as "Of course, who doesn't know him? When you grow up on the Jersey shore...you know Bruce." He's not paparazzi. He's magazine photo shoot type. Yes, he's shot Bruce's motorcycles. He explained a little bit more about how he knew him. And he told me some things that I'm still digesting.

And he asked me a lot of questions too. The usual, but I was happy to see he was paying attention. Why Jersey? Do I like what I do for work? Do I have kids? Do I like to travel?

We discovered we both like movies, and when we find one we really like, we watch it repeatedly. He thinks Brad can't act; I didn't argue. He's not a Yankee fan; he doesn't really like sports at all. As we sat there talking in the other's ear over the din of 80s music, we realized we grew up at the same time. Def Leppard had us both tapping our feet against each other.

As the waitress came back a 3rd time to see if we finally decided to order something, he told me to get whatever I wanted; he doesn't drink alcohol. So I went with something non-alcoholic as well, and when the waitress left us, I said, "How long..." figuring he was recovering.

With the lifestyle he'd just described, I'd figured it made perfect sense. But he's never touched it, not even once as a teenager, not even in a ceremonial toast at a wedding. It just doesn't interest him. That's an idea I'm still trying to process, but I think I like it. We agreed that life could be fun enough without it, and that's when we learned that neither of us will watch horror movies - who needs to pay to be afraid?

After a really cozy hour or so in the booth under the harshest of lighting, we both felt restless and more than a little lustful for the unexpected chemistry we were feeling for one another. There was a DJ who would be starting soon, and we both couldn't imagine staying there if it got any louder than it already was. We agreed what was the point of a DJ if there was nowhere to dance?

So out we went, back to our cars. There was no discussion, just silent walking but really close to each other. His hand around my back pulling me against him, my hand also behind my back, curled inside his, holding on as if I might fall into a puddle and never be seen again. There was a very comfortable feeling knowing he wasn't buzzed and therefore thinking I looked beautiful through beer goggles. Refreshing. If there was going to be a kiss, it would be a kiss of sobriety. Plus-sized sobriety.

At my car, I turned to unlock the door and he came with me to hold the door open against the crazy wind. Then he leaned in and set his head on my shoulder and pressed his lips against my ear ever so softly. I closed my eyes and just let the moment linger. When I turned back around, his arms slipped around me and pulled me in close for a kiss.

He then said several hot lustful things to me that made my toes curl and knees buckle. I vaguely recall the start of the 2nd kiss, but I know my hands went into his hair.

We were interrupted by a car wanting to get into the empty spot we were hoarding with my open car door and our shameless embrace.

We slipped around to the back of the car to give the other driver room to pull in, and he said to me, "I want to kiss you even more..." and I croaked out like an off-pitched froggy, "Me too, but I really don't want you to get sick..." He laughed, agreed, gave me a quick kiss, and we hugged for many minutes. I probably already exchanged whatever germ I had, I thought, and contemplated just going for it.

But he whispered that I would just have to get better soon then so he could kiss me again. And we were both incredibly reluctant to leave each other.

I am suppressing any silly insecure thoughts about being with a man who looks at images with a critical eye, and I've decided I really would like to see The Photographer again.

Q & A

Alright everyone, I fixed the link on the last post. It was just a link to my blog post entitled February Plan...it could have been found in the archives. But I linked it again.

But I've had enough inquiries to warrant a round of....

Questions and Answers


Why don't you just link to the supplements themselves?

1. I really went into great detail on what I'm taking. I think people should do their own research so that they've designed something that will work for them. After all, not everyone has the same issues that I have.

2. I don't want anyone saying "Well, she said this was going to work, and it didn't, so she doesn't know what the hell she's talking about." I have never claimed and never will claim to know what is better for anyone but myself.

3. If you really want to know where I'm purchasing my supplements from, I will tell you individually via email. Leave me a link to reach you. But I'm not going to publicly endorse any product or get myself into any kind of situation where I'm responsible for someone else's health. I'm focusing on taking care of myself.


Has anyone else tried it?

I know of one friend who has tried one piece of the supplements. I don't know how well it is working for her. Perhaps she'll comment on it.

Honestly, everyone's going to have their own track record with it. I can tell you that if you think you can take the supplements and not alter what or how much you eat and not alter the amount of energy you put out each day (yes exercise), the supplements are not miracle elements. They're not going to just melt off poundage.

What the supplements did for me was profound. It removed a fixation on food. Once that fixation disappeared, well, quite honestly I cried a bit because it was blatantly obvious how empty my life was without that frenemy to rely on as a crutch. But I have had some amazing social experiences so far this year, so that definitely helps fill the void.

Do I attribute the 10 lbs loss mostly to the supplements?

No. And yes. I attribute the loss to the massive downshift on calories coming into the body, which couldn't have happened without removing the constant addictive thought of food from my brain.

If I STILL ate Dunkin Donuts for breakfast, Taco Bell for lunch, and Dominos for dinner, and took the supplements, I would have probably gained 10 lbs.

The difference is I don't feel the urge to eat like that or really to eat at all. So when I do eat, I just make it as healthy as possible. I'm still off starch/carbs as indicated in 2010 with a Twist. And I still need to step up the exercise. A 10 lb loss in a first month is rarely repeated in a 2nd month, unless someone is on the ridiculous biggest loser show.

Hope that helps.


How are the other goals/aspects you had planned?

Well, the hypnotherapy I wanted so much got put on hold, as the therapist wasn't able to take on my situation as she'd indicated she had. I guess the downside of the alternative methods is that sometimes you deal with a little flakiness. There's another therapist I could go to, but I don't feel the same sense of trust, which I think it key. So I'm waiting it out.

I managed to start saving and contributing to a retirement fund. God knows how, because I have two thoughts: 1. I'm never going to be able to enjoy that money and 2. I could use that money right now.

Very hard for a Sagittarian to plan for the future. We don't trust institutions and we want to live right now. But I'm trying.

30 Day Update

Thirty days ago, I started on these supplements.

Ten days later, I wrote my frenemy a goodbye letter.

Today, for the first time in 30 days, I got on the scale.

I've lost 10 lbs.

Happy camper here.

Over & Out.

The Long Distance Dance

Mr Real Potential has been in contact with me every day since we met on Tuesday. Part of what he wrote on Saturday was about us:

"At the moment, I think I do have to keep this casual, because of my travel and living here in MN. Not that it won't change, but right now, let's just try and enjoy each day however that may be."

Breathe.

This is not a rejection.

This is a good thing. Right? I like the "Not that it won't change..." part. I like that he thinks the same way as I try to: living in the moment.

I'm so used to being fucked around and used, that my 1st reaction is to think, 'Sure, he wants to keep it casual so he can just use me when he's in town.' He's done NOTHING to make me think this way. That's the past talking, and I recognize it and it will stop.

It is important to keep eyes open, stay self-aware, be alert to the things he does and says. Let's remember from our past mistakes, saying is one thing, doing is another. Words are great, actions are better.

The real moment of truth will come the next time Mr Real Potential is in town. And actually, the days and weeks leading up to that next trip. How often am I in his thoughts, how often does he communicate with me, and what his phone calls or emails say. This is the dance of the long-distance possible relationship. It requires skill, and not everyone can do it.

And for me, I've got to lower my emotions a notch or two and not get hyper-attentive or hyper-sensitive on him. No drooling. Engage him in topical conversation. Dogs. Baseball. Perfect timing. The Red Sox season is about to start.

Let's play ball.

Fuhgeddaboudit

Wednesday night I went on another first date. Even though Mr Real Potential was fantastic, I really don't know how he feels about me, and I am trying to learn from my past and not put all my eggs in one basket. More accurately for me, all my desires into one man's broad shoulders.

So my date last night told me online that he was 5'5 but my sister says she's 5'5 and there's no way I'm that much taller standing next to my sister so he had to be 5'3. I loomed over this guy. Lately people have been suggesting in the dating world that we loosen up our criteria and our restrictions on who we will date. Indeed. After all, people who live in glass houses....I'll be the first to admit if I want a little consideration given to me, then I have to do the same.

The height thing isn't anything to do with him....it is about how I feel when I am with him. Yes, my insecurity. A big person doesn't want to feel bigger. And I suppose those who discriminate against me, don't like how they feel around a woman with curves and a kangaroo pouch.

My date paid for everything, told me upfront he was going to show me a great evening. He thought the sun shined on me and told me so. Very complimentary about the eyes. Very confident man with a senior management job with a very established company. Good-looking, very funny, passionate Italian. Yankee fan but not a Red Sox hater. (I remain skeptical on that point.) Says he's searching for a woman with substance, doesn't want the barbie dolls anymore. Has a crazy ex-wife.

Wait....ssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Did you just hear the warning bells? How about the red flags? Did you see them?

Hello....I have been there. Done that. And have a movie script in the works about it.

So, I may have been willing to try out the "I'm taller and bigger than you but let's see if it works," but I'm not willing to try out for a supporting role in another Italian soap opera. No way. I invest my four year's worth. An ex-wife - ok. But he used the words "crazy ex-wife" and then went on to explain all about her brand of crazy and years later she's still in his life.

Ummmm yeah no.

Fuhgeddaboudit.

Real Potential

Best date since 2004. Not sure why exactly.

Oh yes wait. The guy was the appropriate amount of into me.

He was neither drooling nor disinterested.

He was funny, had me laughing quickly.

He was a gentleman.

He was adorable. In fact, his photos do him an injustice.

He took the lead immediately. I felt at ease and ....safe around him.

He knows how to kiss. And then some.

He called me kitten, which if someone had said to me prior to that moment, I would have probably frowned and said "What? I'm no kitten." But when he said it, it sounded adorable.

Yes, like puke-you're-too-romantic-for-Sweden adorable.

So it seems Mr Real Potential has entered my life. It would be nice if he decided to stick around. Cross your fingers for me, will you?

As I was heading to my vehicle, I glanced at my phone to see the time (4.5 hour first dates rock), and I see there's an email from Mr S. Honestly, I couldn't plan this kind of timing.

Once home I read it. He's extremely concerned - for himself. Thinks there "might be something wrong" with him because his feelings for me dropped so suddenly.

Yes Mr S, there's something wrong with you all right...you just let a great woman slip away.

Hope Springs Eternal

At least, for the moment it does.

I am...living proof....

A 40-year old CAN still have fun sledding AND live to walk and talk about it the next day.


Isn't my sledding tube cute? And she'll double as a raft down the Delaware. I WILL be going tubing down the Delaware this summer, about time I accomplish a 4-year old wish.

Sledding with my token Jersey male friend Harry Pottypants was a barrel of laughter as well as an incredible workout. The rush of the ride down paired with the rush of climbing that steep hill. All for free! (Minus the price of the sled.) Thank you winter. I can't help but think how much healthier we were as kids because we played outside all the time! We did not realize how great we had it.

So, I've really had it with FaceBook. I don't think I'll be on there updating too much of anything anymore. Maybe an odd photo here and there to keep the growing group of lurkers happy. People who never spoke to me in HS, friending me and then not even bothering to say hello. What is up with that shit? Is that just a cold Connecticut thing or what? I've also completed what I'm calling the Facebook FML* Trinity: the first boyfriend, the college boyfriend, and the ex-husband have all friended me. I keep thinking they should schedule a Donna Conference. DonnaCom in Vegas. I wonder what the 3 of those men would have to say. It would make for an interesting book, or a comic strip at least I think.

Yes, I know, I'm a hard one to forget, and I might be a good one to remember. I just wish there could be a composite of those men available in my life right now.

Which brings me to say, on the eve of the silly, I-can't-help-but watch, fabricated romance of the Bachelor finale, that I have a date this Tuesday night. Not gonna lie, I'm so gun shy after what happened with my cataylst Mr S that part of me is bursting to tell you details about my date-to-be and part of me is thinking that to even mention him is tempting fate's fickle ways.

I can say that this man possesses every quality I could list in a Real Potential partner.

He's from Massachusetts but he's lived in Jersey in recent years.
He loves the Red Sox.
His voice is dreamy.
He likes me....just the way I am...physically. (Hello? Bonus.)
He loves dogs (owns one, by choice, not by default of previous relationship).
He doesn't want to have children.
He's oozing with intelligence...ex-military intelligence to be precise (Cue the MI theme).

So when the world gets to be too much, we could take our pack of dogs and invade some small barely inhabited island country or Bermuda perhaps, set up satellite, and watch the Red Sox for the rest of our lives. There we go, all mapped out.

Oops, did I say I wasn't going to tempt fate by talking about him? Oh well, as Kathy Griffin would say, fate can suck it.

*FML=Fuck My Life. Unhipsters, it's OK, I've got you covered.

Comp Me Again!

Thanks for the free room, Foxwoods...the wonder of it all....

Oh my God... for realz?

For realz...California, here I come!

Exhausted and alone, but so so so ridiculously happy!

The view from bed...where I could have stayed all day...next time!

Dear Food

Dear Food,

My old friend. My old frenemy. How are you? I ask, because I have no idea. I ask, even though I really couldn't care less.

I don't care how you taste anymore. Granted, I'd rather not put something shitty tasting in my mouth, after all, my taste buds aren't dead for god's sake.

But really, I smell you and I don't really have an oh-my-god-I-can't-wait-to-have-that-between-my-lips reaction anymore. Gone are the days of thinking about what I can eat, when I can eat, and how much I can eat.


Two bites of this warm pecan pie, and I was done. Wha!? Yeah. The thought of taking another bite really displeased me. The thought of bringing it home? Eh. No desire.

I don't recognize this type of thinking at all. Not for 40 years. But strange as it might seem to not give any thought to food, I honestly hope this type of thinking sticks around. I feel free from a trap I'd been setting for myself year after year after year after year. I owe it all to the supplement that has turned off my subconscious "need" to comfort myself with you....

So food, I'll be seeing you around. I just don't have the burning desire to consume you anymore as if I were starving to death.

Hopefully, I can transfer that desire to other areas of my life instead.

Best wishes.

Breathe, Wax, Refocus

I haven't had a hard lesson to learn in a long time so I guess one was due.

My Valentine was received but it didn't make anything better. Mr S still isn't sure he can get back to the way he felt before I melted down emotionally on the phone with him. Oh well. I told him that second chances were good things, but I've also told him I understand if he decides not to try. It will be whatever it is meant to be. He said that my messages were not helping, they were making things harder. So much for reminding him of whatever it was he liked about me to begin with.

Breathe in, breathe out. Wax on, wax off. Refocus on me. Selfish me.

I don't know why men spook so easily. Then again, I know a sobbing woman is probably similar to a monster for them.


There will always be bumps in any path taken; if Mr S' instinct on anything emotional is to take 10 steps back and analyze it like an engine and my instinct is to peel away the layers and look at it under a magnifying glass, then Houston, we have a problem with compatibility. I could likely adapt, I usually do.

But I will never ever ever put myself into another relationship where I have to "walk on eggshells" around my partner. I'm a Sagittarian. Hello, look in the dictionary and it is a synonym to the word emotional. Yes, I work on handling my emotions all the time, but I'm still going to be MORE emotional than other people.

*sigh* How many labels should I put on my dating profiles? Dog owner, weight-challenged, carb addict, emotional 40 year old female. If I did that....pffft, nevermind.

Breathe in, breathe out. Wax on, wax off. Refocus on me. Selfish me.

Perhaps his idea of a "rare lady" was one who has her shit together. I've accomplished a lot. But I'm still working on my shit. I'm still very much a work in progress, and I may remain a work in progress the rest of my life. As long as I'm working at it, that's what matters most to me.

Perhaps the connection, so new and untested, wasn't meant to be as strong as I imagined it.

Perhaps his only cosmic purpose in my life was to show me I was hiding.

So, the lessons I'm taking from this are definitely customized to my circumstances.

1. Don't communicate with a potential new partner when I'm exhausted.
2. Keep phone conversations from 20 minutes to an hour max.
3. Don't let things get too personal too early. There's no need to open the flood gates.

Although the verdict isn't completely in and dismissed, it isn't looking good. I am really hurting over the idea that I won't get to meet this man. Like I said he was one in a million in terms of qualities I seek. But I have to remember, I'm one in a million too.

And if he just doesn't feel that way, then he just doesn't feel that way. Better that than to be lied to just to have sex or something equally ridiculous that I've already experienced.

Breathe in, breathe out. Wax on, wax off. Refocus on me. Selfish me.

A Love Wreck

“The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you,
not knowing how blind that was.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.”
~ Rumi



I laid it out there. I pushed the envelope. I sent Mr S a homemade Valentine video and yesterday's entry.

Perhaps I should have waited longer, but I couldn't. After seeing that corny sweet manufactured Hollywood movie Valentine's Day, I just couldn't let today go by without trying.

Oh, I am a wreck strewn across the rocky idea of love.

Chemical Catalyst

It has been an interesting 7 days in the world of men and me. There's been a mail-storm of interest lately on all the sites I've got my profile up on. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I'm amused though, because I can't figure out the trend. Go for months with nothing, then suddenly men from everywhere express interest and I get to sort out who I like/don't like. Really, every time there's this much interest, I feel like I'm on a reality tv show and they're just playing a joke on me. The reality is there might be 2% in the pool that would actually be compatible but I'll take fishing in the ocean over fishing in a puddle any day.

Last Friday night, I met an OKCer. I wasn't even going to spend a word on him, but in hindsight, I think it frames up nicely in juxtaposition to the other experience I will also relay.

Mr Common was raised in Montana, spent quite a bit of time in the army, in Germany, and then Seattle. Currently in computers, in Jersey and unemployed. He assured me he had funds for 6 months, and he had a recruiter with a few great leads. Sure, whatever, I know some women won't date someone out of work, but really...I was not looking to marry him and didn't really care. If he'd never had a job, perhaps that would be a concern.

However, I knew when I first saw him, I would not be interested in him. He didn't smell right to my wolf nose. It wasn't as if he hadn't showered. He just had an unpleasant chemistry to him. Blue eyes which I love but one was lazy, off to the side severely. And lest you think I'm so superficial, he was short and stocky and THAT didn't bother me a bit. But eye contact....damn that is just key for me.

We sat at Panera and ate and talked. I got a nonstop earful - about an hour's worth - of army stories. And he had not one question for me. And not just army stories, but wild drunken army stories. Involving tricks he played on others. This man was reliving the past across the table from me and I couldn't help feeling as though he was really sad about his life now. I know, military men have to haze each other, and their bonds are tighter than tight. I love Band of Brothers and other military movies. But sadly, sitting there, a picture was starting to form of this man that I just didn't care for. He didn't seem....nice. I know that sounds lame. But I tried to keep an open mind.

We talked a little about how challenging it was to be new to Jersey, and what it was like to move out here for him. He proceeded to tell me two more stories from the past year that sealed the image forming. Both involved him losing his temper, once with a coworker in the office and once with a customer service rep at car rental kiosk in an airport. His description of his anger and his violent thoughts and behavior really made me uncomfortable. I saw a picture of a man who could not control his emotions or his actions. To have the police called on you because you made such a scene in an airport...maybe someone else can handle being around that, but it just isn't me. And why would you tell that to someone you're meeting for the first time and hoping to date?

So, I was ready to go, of course I didn't openly criticize his behavior when he was done or anything because I wanted to survive the night. LOL So, he walked me to my car, gave me a hug I really didn't want nor reciprocate, and he said, "Well, let's see how the chemistry is between us when you're not so tired."

Excuse me? How about we don't. And...I'm tired? I never said I was tired. I'd done my absolute best to be bright and bubbly. I should have said, "I wouldn't be so tired if you weren't so boring." Anyway, I wrote him a long email telling him exactly why I wouldn't be seeing him again. Done and next.

(Yes....next....there was a next that is worthy of a post all its own but I'm just going to babble on here.)

Every day we learn. Never stop learning.

Enter stage right...a man that I can really only best describe as... a catalyst.

Main Entry: cat·a·lyst
Pronunciation: \'ka-t?-l?st\
Function: noun
Date: 1902

1: a substance that enables a chemical reaction to proceed at a usually faster rate or under different conditions (as at a lower temperature) than otherwise possible
2: an agent that provokes or speeds significant change or action

Mr Catalyst. Mr Game Changer. Why do you ask?

I haven't found myself more interested in a man from the FIRST word exchanged in a very long time. If I had to think who was the last to make me feel this way, it was L, it was 2004, and I was open-hearted and open-minded. And yes, being THAT affected again, is startling. Like, wake me from a slumber I didn't know I was sleeping kind of startling. Holy shit, I still have THOSE types of feelings? I'm not dead there, in the deepest core of me? Really? Yes, really.

Mr S. is worthy of every complimentary word that begins with an S that I can think of. Sweet. Sexy. Super. Sincere. Sinful. He's a thinker. He's in touch with his emotions. He's a history enthusiast. He's got comedic timing. He's taller than me. He has blue eyes. He has seen the world. He wants to see more of the world. He doesn't want kids. He loves to snuggle beneath really cozy blankets. He has a voice that gives me those girly girly shivers. He's difficult to deal with, likely set in his ways, and confidently brimming with the experience to back it up. He asks detailed questions and wants to know about me. He goes off on lovely tangents in conversation that make me smile. He's 43 but mentions Winne the Pooh, loves the story of how teddy bears came into existence, and is likely a big teddy bear himself (though he would not want this getting out I'm sure - sorry, you'll all swear to secrecy right?).

We had about half a dozen amazing emails back and forth before our first phone call...which lasted 3 hours and 50 minutes....and I hate talking on the phone longer than 20 minutes! I felt like a teenager...with a super hard crush.

But here's why he's the catalyst, the game changer. He makes me want to be the best I can possibly be. He makes me bring my A game. He has a way of making me pull away the veils I hide behind and face the music. Yes, this early on. He has that much positive influence on me.

And now for the hard part. I messed up. He found this blog.

(Editor's Note: He found it before he ever contacted the crazy girl. And he still wrote.)

I honestly don't know if he'll read this post or if he's read one post or several posts or all 497 posts. I didn't give him a chance to tell me. Because it caught me so off guard that I freaked. And I melted down so completely that I may have lost the chance with him. The verdict is out, the jury is sequestered, and I'm wondering what will happen next.

But what I want to say, is that even if I do...lose any chance of knowing him further, I absolutely believe he "came into my life" as a great big wake-up call. The message? Stop hiding. Even when I didn't really think I was, I was.

Did I really think this blog was private? It is one of the first 5 things that come up in a google search about me, I've been writing and going around in circles here for years.

I have no reason to be hiding anyway. I'm someone facing my fears, my challenges, every day. I'm fighting for the best life I can have, even if that means I'm alone for the rest of that life. It may not be heroic or inspiring, it may be just one simple woman with one simple life, but I'm giving it all I've got.

If someone can't stand what's said here, then they don't want to know the real me. Having said that, there's so much more to me than just what's on these pages. I hope that anyone who reads any blog realizes that about the person they're reading. We can't show you everything or explain everything here. We'd be writing nonstop and we wouldn't be living.

"Get busy living or get busy dying." Either way, writing about it helps, and certainly gives a window. I just think if you want to know more, please try to come through the front door.

So I'm thanking Mr S for being my catalyst for change.

In a very short time, you found me, you wrote to me, you exposed me to myself, you called me a "very rare lady," and I'm grateful for the reminder. I used to know that. I do know that, deep down inside. I just need someone like you in my life to reflect it back to me once in a while.

If we don't risk rejection, we can't risk intimacy.

My Supplements

DISCLIAMER: Please note I'm not endorsing any product or supplement or weight loss techniques for anyone else. I am only sharing how things are going for me. If you decide to take these products you may have a completely different experience.

I've been taking the supplements since Friday morning. Although the instructions said it might take up to 2 weeks for some people to feel any effect, I felt a difference within the 1st dose. And I'm also taking LESS than they say to take, because I wanted to start out slowly in case there is a plateau and I have to increase it.

I've been talking over how different I feel, and trying to put it into a comprehensible experience, but I am finding it difficult to find accurate wording. I hope what ends up on the page makes some sort of sense.

Before taking the supplement, I felt almost always on edge of losing control over what I ate. It was a very conscious situation of preoccupation. Monitoring how I felt, making sure I wasn't eating my emotions, keeping lists and desperately trying NOT to think about food but held hostage by it nonetheless.

Enter the supplements.

Step away from the edge. Breathe.

New thoughts...

Food? What's that?

Seriously....who cares about food? I'll go so far as to say the feeling is somewhat extreme, as in I almost miss that excitement I used to feel about food. But now I really couldn't be bothered. I couldn't care less. I'm eating just as much as before, but the fixation is gone. And there's no such thing as a craving so far. I realize it has only been 5 days. We'll see.

Day 2 of the supplements I sat in a Chili's restaurant, completely untempted by the endless free tortillas and salsa. I chose a salad with grilled chicken, even though I could smell the fries from everyone around me. And eating the salad felt 100% satisfying. I did not covet food I could not have. I didn't even think about it.

I don't know WHY it works.

I don't know if it will continue to work.

I'm just taking it one day at a time.

And the cleanse supplement? Happy to say there's no "I'm going to poo my pants right now" feeling. It is more of a need to pee. I am drinking a full 8 plus glasses of water.

With the lifting of this constant worry I had over food, my mind feels so much lighter, and I find myself enjoying conversations with coworkers and feeling optimistic that maybe, just maybe, I can reclaim the energy to get my healthy life back on track.

And....I've continued to follow thru on my goals for myself.

Introducing Tready, the Life Changer...

My new friend is used, but I don't care. I love him. He's great so far, getting my heart rate up while I watch TV.

Only drawback is he scares the hell out of the dogs.