San Fran.

Washington, D.C.



The Big Apple.

Geographically Undesirable. 

And the further away they are…they more appealing they get. Jesus. I swear, its like I want these men to be out of reach. Actually, there is a little truth to that thought. I do actually like them out of my reach, and out of my way! Men are a royal pain in the ass. They bug me. And I bug them, obviously. Mark couldn’t stand me, always all up in his shit. When he traveled we got along so much better! And you know ladies, when your man is away on “business” how much better your life really is. Come on! Admit it. The house runs more smoothly, you have some space…you can do what you want. And he isn’t around to piss and moan. That’s right. The constant pissing and moaning.

Pissing and moaning…

“What did you do all day?” or “Did you happen to get my dry cleaning on the way home from lunch with the girls?” Or this one, the ultimate passive-aggressive-doozie, “Hey, honey…I know it was really hard fitting in all your stuff today between 8-3 while the kids were in school, but did you find an extra hour to change the oil in the car YOU drive?” I always wanted to smack in Mark’s face. But now, I’m divorced. And life is good. I can just do what I want, when I want…and I do my very own pissing and moaning. And there is no one around to hear it. Or listen to it. Or do a thing about it. Hmmm. I guess that sucks, too. I kinda wish someone could hear my p&m. (Taking apps.)

My shrink says that I like the far-away boys because they can never become real. Ya know, like really serious. They are just far enough away to be good for now, but never good forever. I think that is just the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard! I mean, I have tried to make these Geographically Undesirable men work over and over, haven’t I? I think I’ve done a bang-up job! Given it my all. I’ve gone back and forth, and back and forth…I’ve racked up my frequent flyer miles to prove it! I even had one guy actually moving here to Charlotte for fucksake! She said that there are millions of eligible men right here under my nose job. Dr. Know-it-all says that I am just not “looking hard enough”. Well, fuck you, Doc. I have been in every bar this side of Queens Road, and there ain’t shit. These Southern Men can’t handle me, and we all know why. I am bossy, and I have a bad attitude. Oh, and I guess I write this “male-bashing-blog”?

So, whatever. I am doomed to be single. Doomed to be alone. Doomed to be sitting here drinking wine, and writing about my purple vibrators. And doomed to date hot, smart, sexy men that I find “accidentally swiping in Charlotte” but living in Arizona. Doomed. I mean what are the odds? Another fucking long distance relationship? And this one isn’t a hop-skip and a jump, guys. This is Arizona. It’s so far… he might as well be in Australia! I mean, talk about GEOGRAPHICALLY UNDESIRABLE! Wait, I should get a map. I’m pretty sure Arizona is in a desert somewhere. Or it is a desert. Whatever, I know its super-far from me. And I don’t like dry heat. Or sweating. I’m actually getting sweaty thinking about the heat.


I’m a total dumb ass. But what if this one is “the one”? Ok, what if he’s not the one. I don’t care. But I’ll tell you this, I like him. He is fun and funny. Not just one of the two, but both. And at my age, I feel like you have to be both. And he is a whole lot of other things, but I don’t want to tell you yet. I don’t even want to think about telling you…because I’m not sure where we are. But I like him. And I’m pretty sure he feels the same. And that’s enough for me right now. So that means it has to be enough for you, too. It’s weird, for the first time in a long time…I’m okay with it being enough. I am usually wanting so much more. So fast, so quick…all at once.

But not this time. I like the slow, steady…climb we are on. Kinda like riding a bike up a hill, I think. I don’t ride a bike, because it seriously kills my vagina. But if I wanted to ride a bike, I could get one of those gel seat thingies…and then I would know if my analogy was correct. Or, I could just ask someone who rides one. Like a triathlete, for example. Calling all triathletes! Do any of you want to date me…to see if its like riding a bike? ;)

xo j


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  • Brett

    God I can’t stop reading….I truly enjoy your in the face, pull your panties out of your crack approach when you write!

    I will say, I’m sure he is just under your nose; therefore, try looking down. Ha
    Keep writing, it is apparent, you’re damn good at it!

  • JD

    All this talk of far away men and not a mention of Canada? Am i arrogant to think I qualified for your list? You’re on my list….