The Oddest Thing She's Ever Said

“Oh my god the things I’d do to you if I could have gone out tonight.”

About the only thing a Vermont blizzard is good for is creating the perfect situation for early-morning-hour sexting. And there are very few things I love more than early-morning-hour sexting. Over-the-knee Italian leather boots come to mind, and Criminal Minds marathons so I can stare at Shemar Moore for hours on end, but other than that…not much. I’m a writer. Is it really that surprising words affect me that much?

Thanks, Nature…

XOXO

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What A Real Man Looks Like.

What is a real man? What does he look like? What does he do? And where, where the HELL, can you find one?

A real man will be willing to part with money for your time. A real man dates. He knows your time is not free, and he’s willing to reasonably spend to take you out to lunch and talk to you, even after you’ve been doing it for awhile and are sleeping together. A real man knows picking up the tab doesn’t stop after your panties drop.

A real man is cognizant of the fact that you’re a woman. He knows that there are some things that may be needed from him because of this fact, and will pick you up from in front of the club at the end of the night so you don’t have to fight off the sharks or find your way home drunk, even if he wasn’t out with you and your girls. A real man will offer you his arm, even when you CAN walk in a straight line by the cops.

A real man always asks to see you. He knows that you have a life, and friends, and a job, and plans that don’t necessarily involve him, and so, he never takes the fact that he can see you, or you, for granted. He calls ahead to secure time and plans with you, and is equally comfortable letting you come up with plans as he is making them himself. A real man understands the give-and-take effect of work and play, and time.

A real man knows when to use words to solve a problem, and when to get physical in a confrontation. He knows the different between force, and being forced. A real man is a protector. A real man knows the extent of his own strength.

A real man never shows up empty-handed, even if he appears with nothing in his hands. If he has nothing to give physically, he’s 100% invested in being there mentally and emotionally. One man might bring you dinner while another brings jewels while another brings you stimulating news, but all real men will bring something to the table.

A real man has plans and ambitions. He may be living in the penthouse suite with millions in the bank, or he may still be living in his momma’s basement, but regardless, he’s actively planning and doing things with his life. He’s not content with what he is and what he can offer— he wants to be better and have more to offer. He is constantly on the grind, and is not satisfied with status quo or the bare minimum of effort. He puts in time and pays meticulous attention to detail. He thinks things through and goes by-the-book. He can relax when it’s time, but even when he’s chilling, he has a constant desire to better himself. A real man is a dedicated hard worker.

A real man is an attentive lover. He knows all women aren’t the same, and what worked for the last doesn’t necessarily float the boat for you. He’s open to trying new things and is comfortable talking about sex openly and frankly. He knows being safe and proactive is smart, and he practices what he preaches. He gives, and yet can still take. He can be dominant when you need to be manhandled, and yet submissive when you want control. He takes the time to learn your body, and what you like and need. He stops when you say “stop,” waits when you say “wait,” and knows that when you ask for a massage and wink what you REALLY mean. A real man makes you feel comfortable enough to lower your inhibitions and gives you what you really want.

A real man is kind to animals, children, your friends, and his family. He respects women, loves his mother, and always has a kind word or smile for people. While your friend who says “like” every third word may drive him crazy, he’ll talk to her for a few minutes when he bumps into her. Though he’s allergic, he’ll still pet your cat.

A real man is not afraid of commitment or relationships. He knows that one woman is enough for him, if she’s the right woman, and knows that even if she’s not perfect, he doesn’t need to look anywhere else to find what she lacks. A real man doesn’t play, because he knows emotions aren’t something meant to be a toy.

A real man takes care of himself. He values his health, and is aware of it. While he may not necessarily go to the gym every day, he knows that exercise is valuable, and is no stranger to it. A real man takes pride in his appearance, and has style, whatever that may be. He knows what he looks good in, and he knows how to keep himself looking good in it. His diet is smart, not juvenile. He has a healthy relationship with food, drinking, and drugs. A real man can cook for himself, in a pinch.

A real man isn’t ashamed. He’s proud to have you at his side. He introduces you to others, and doesn’t think twice about bringing you into public with him. (A real lady is someone who a real man wants to bring into public and be seen with, by the way.) He’ll kiss you in public, in front of his friends, in front of your family, in front of the world. A real man is not afraid to say what your relationship is, and is as eloquent in expressing it as he is articulate about his feelings and expressing his intentions for you.

A real man opens doors for you, both physically as well as metaphorically. He always remembers the little things to the best of his ability. A real man says “please,” and “thank you,” and is courteous to the wait staff and tips well. A real man can say “I’m sorry” with sincerity and admit when he’s been wrong. He’ll call your mother “ma’am,” or “Mrs. ______” and your father “sir” or “Mr. _____” until told otherwise. A real many carries the heaviest boxes and kills spiders, or lets them loose again back outside. A real man will protect you and stick up for you, always, even when he’s not happy with you at the moment. A real man knows a woman’s worth. He will pick you up for your date, and see you safely home. A real man knows his worth. A real man will understand if you tell him you can’t see him anymore. A real man will fight for you if he loves you.

A real man doesn’t have to be dressed in a three-piece suit. A man in a suit can be an ass, while the homeboy in the do-rag and chain could be the real thing. A real man doesn’t need to drive a flashy car to assert himself; he does it instead by the way he fills the space he stands in. A real man doesn’t need to be made of money— if he can’t take you on a date, but takes you on a walk around the neighborhood instead, his listens intently and actively to what you talk about. A real man doesn’t need to be making a set salary, as long as he’s making all the ends meet, and he’s in control. A real man has no set age— he could be 65, or he could be 18. A real man is made, not born. A real man does not have to be perfect, but he does have to be trying. A real man is not a physical manifestation— he’s an attitude, and a way of living.

And every woman needs a real man in her life.

XOXO

 —-

- From SATCG

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What You Should Never Say To The Guy You’re Seeing:

“I actually dig UFC. Big men. Small tight shorts. Lots of sweat. It’s a good time.”

XOXO

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I hate that moment when someone posts a photo or something of themselves on Facebook and while your relationship is such that it may be fine or better-than-fine, lead-to-sex-fine if you were to say something like, “DAYUM, you hot!” to their face, the protocol and appropriateness of leaving a comment or “liking” the photo is all ambiguous and up in the air, because the last thing you want is the guy you’re seeing to be like, “Whoooooa there, nelly! Stop objectifying my body; I have a brain, too, you know, and a shit ton of friends you’ve never met who just read that and now know you lust over me like a Monolo shoe sale.” (Though he would probably not get nor actually say the Monolo reference.)

When all I want to say is, “WOOF.”

…And times like now are when I consider getting all mysterious and tri-lingual and shit and just leaving “Tu sei caldo come pane,” and calling it a day to let people ponder.

XOXO

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And Some Odd Proclivities.

I’m not sure what it is, and it may just be because I’m a huge DC comic and Joker fan, but there is SOMETHING about a man in a zoot suit that really just does it for me…hnnnnnngggg.

XOXO

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This Is Just To Say…

Last night, after taking my second 50 milligram dose of Zoloft, I promptly ceased to retrieve messages fired from my neurons and washed it down with two glasses of a very tasty Malbec (…red wine, for those of you not obsessed with all things vino), which I will NEVER do again (or, at least, not until I really, really, RULLY want a $5 house margarita at Miguel’s), because, suffice it to say, I ended up brushing my teeth while leaning at a 45-degree angle between the bathroom door and wall and then passed out mid-scene while Buffy and Angel were cuddling in bed in Angel: Season One while spooning my cat and WHO REALLY DOES THAT. Anyway, I learned my lesson re: anti-depressants and depressants and that’s what really matters. That, and the fact that after receiving “Giant shark vs. mega octopus?” as a response to my 12:30 AM “I’m a dumbass who mixed drugs and drinking and I may not be alive in the morning due to the fact that my heart currently feels like a epileptic trying to dance to dubstep and isn’t it always said that heart attack signs are so much harder to diagnose and tend to go unnoticed in women? so I just wanted to let you know ‘cause I thought you might care” text to TGIS, he texted me back again this morning while I was (alive) (un-heart attacked) (sober) at work, just to see how I was feeling (and concernedly chastise/advise me about my medicating and self-medicating actions in the future like I was sitting in a high school chem class while he pointed to a pie chart labeled “Bad Life Decisions You Have Made Broken Down Into Things That Contain Chemical Symbols”, but that is an after-thought besides the point and sir, you need not worry. Lesson LEARNED.)

…Or possibly maybe just to see if I were still alive or if he is now a free agent. Men. But that’s the point…Men.

There. I’m sorry. I had to. Sometimes, men are the best. And in my honest opinion, he is the best of the best.

XOXO

(Amazing how easy seemingly insignificant little things can be, yet still make a woman sing a guy’s praises, isn’t it? Please note, dog-ear, and favorite this notion for future use, you of the Y chromosomes.)

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- Excerpt from SATCG

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