Ok, it doesn’t matter if you say it any differently, or alter the punctuation mark on the end. Really, it’s just the same flipping word. It doesn’t change, it just stays, well...happy. Happiness. Happier. Happiest. In it’s true form, it is an adjective to describe a feeling. How person feels, right? Delighted, or pleased. Glad, or joyous. Ok, you get it. Happy. You can be happy, or your mood can be happy. Or an action can be happy. For example, I could be happy to see someone. Or in a happy frame of mind. Wow. I am just beating this “happy” thing to a bloody pulp, aren’t I? Well, fuck. I just want you all to know how happy I am. I am SO fucking happy.
I’m happy as a pig in shit.
Can’t you tell?
I mean, I just spent the weekend in the sunniest of places…with the prettiest of views. And greatest food, and the best company. I got treated like a princess, by one of the hottest guys I have ever been with…and saw DRAKE in killer frickin’ seats! Hmmmm. Pilot, what pilot? I mean…what was his name? Did I get dumped last week, because truly…I can’t even remember what that asshead looked like! My weekend was out of a romance novel. I was swept off my feet…and loved every, single second of it. It was nice to be wanted, and not left guessing. He held my hand, and opened my doors. Surprised me with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries! Wowza. It’s the little things, ya know? He knew I was hurt, and wanted me to have a good time. Forget about all the bullshit for a bit. I was so touched that he thought of everything..like honestly, everything. We talked about our “war wounds” and shared stories about our families…both raised in Jewish homes, it was cool that he understood what I was talking about without having to explain. He just got it; and me. Doesn’t happen too often in Charlotte…so effortless for once. Just so easy…
And we laughed until he cried. I’m funny? Yay! I loved that he thought I was funny. Mark never thought I was funny. He seriously thought I was so stupid. He looked at me like I was saying the stupidest shit in the world. But this one laughed. I loved it, and laughed with him. We laid by the pool, and talked. And guess what? We didn’t do any hiking. Or biking. Or climbing, or sweating. We ate, and shopped. And the only sweat on my body…was between my tits from the SUN AT THE BEACH! And we didn’t touch a beer. Not one fucking beer to my lips…my kind of man! Fuck it’s about time. And it’s about god damn time a guy actually picked up the bill, and said NO when I offered to pay for dinner! What the fuck? It’s been 3 years that I’ve been doing this “dating dance” and NEVER has a guy said NO when I offer to pick up the check, until now. Holy Hotness, he is all that and a bag of Sun Chips. And he even bought hats for my boys at the concert! He thought about MY boys. I forgot, and he remembered! Impressive, huh? It was kind. And sweet. He was charming, And he looked at me when I spoke. And smiled at me. He actually acted like he liked me. And you know what, he didn’t expect a thing in return. He was a total gentleman.
I mean, clearly I put out…
But if you saw him…you’d jump his ass, too.
And sure, y’all can talk smack…and say I’m a moron. Tell me I’m an idiot for hanging out with a new guy so soon, but whatever. I got dumped. What did you expect me to do…sit home and cry for a month? Puhlease. The Pilot was never into me to begin with, I was just a girl he used to get over his ex. And after reading my blog for 2 years, don’t y’all know me better than that? I am so NOT that chic. I bounce back, y’all. I get right back on that horse! Ok, maybe not the best of analogies…but you get it. This delicious man asked me out, and I said yes! Wouldn’t you? No brainer. If a hot, eligible guy called, you would go running! Timing is of the essence, people. And especially, if you’d been dumped for a woman with a flappy vagina. Oh, you heard me. She has a flappy vagina! Pussy is out of the bag, all y’all! He told me she did, and he chose her flappy-ass pussy over my amazing one. Ugh. Its like adding insult to injury. Just throw some more salt on that wound. If there is a hell, I’m so going there. Good thing I don’t burn too easily. Even better thing that I don’t use names! (Secret is safe with me, girl) And why doesn’t she do her Kegel’s? Ladies, it is so important to squeeze those vaginal muscles every single day! #tightisright
And anyway, this new hottie isn’t really new. He’s new-ish. We have mutual friends, so shut your pieholes. Don’t judge. Or if you want to judge, do it where I can’t hear you. We have a great connection, and I dig him. And that’s all I’m saying about that. And really, after talking about vaginas how can I possibly say much more? I’ll just wrap this up with a happy little bow and say goodnight…
Oh, and of course…smile, and be happy! Life is too damn short for anything else! ;)
Tags: dating after divorce, divorce, geographically undesirable dating, jennifer hurvitz, jennifer weintraub, the truth hurvitz, women and sex