bad dates

Oh, I’m sorry.. I can’t tonight. I’m busy. I have dates. I mean, a date.

A date. A date. A very important date.. and this one is cuter than last night’s guy. And funnier. And smarter. I think. Wait. Maybe not. Shit. What’s his name again? When it rains, it pours all y’all. And let me just tell you.. it pours hard. It’s raining men! Amazing, hot, smart.. men. I’m singing in my head. And no, I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t write my digits on the bathroom wall, or wake up last week and decide to start “serial dating”. It just happened! I started getting asked out. And I don’t know why, or how. Ok, maybe I joined Tinder. Maybe I was in carpool, and the guy I’ve been crushing on asked for my number. Maybe, just maybe, I got fixed up with a JEWISH guy in Charlotte! Be still my beating heart! But am I not allowed to go, if asked? It’s like this insane double standard that rules the world, and I’ve just about had it. MEN have it all. MEN can do whatever they want. MEN can go out with multiple women at the same time.. and it’s just fine. But the minute a woman decides to accept more than one date, she’s a slut. Well, I am no slut, and I’m not lonely. Or, trying to fill a void. I am just dating. Getting to know new people. Not to find the “ONE”. Maybe I’m just trying to find a guy that I dig. If it ends up being more, well then, cool.  What is wrong with that? I am not afraid of being alone, in fact I like it. But I also love attention. Duh. Have you seen this blog?

It’s my turn to be wanted. There, I said it. Yup.. and I’m not taking it back. 

Here it comes, the sob story. So if you don’t want to hear it, stop reading. But it’s where as women, and mothers..we can all relate. Actually, men, too. I think men want to be wanted. I won’t leave my male readers out. Sorry, fellas. Married, single, or divorced, it makes no difference. We all want to be wanted.  I lived for 12 years talking to kids. About kids. I lived for my kids. I lived in sweat pants during the day. Pumped my boobs. Drool all over me. My hair in a ponytail. Fat. I was hot. Not. And like most couples, when Mark and I went out on a Saturday night, we discussed the kids. It was marriage. And life. And I was happy. Kinda. I loved being a mom. But I missed being a woman. I felt lost, and sad. And my “pretty” was gone. Thank g-d for antidepressants. Yes, I take them. So does most of the Free World, give me a break. If you’re reading this, and you don’t take something.. maybe you should consider it. I swear, life is too short to be miserable. You might actually be happy! Back on topic, Jen.

But now.. I’ve had  a life change. Or, a life-style change, I will call it.  My babies are grown up. My tits are brand spankin’ new. (thanks, Mark) My fat is gone, with only a nice Frankenstein-like scar left across my stomach, that looks like I was cut in half by one of those whack job magicians on a bad day. I actually feel confident. Not cocky, but confident. I know who I am, and what I want. Oh, and what I don’t want. Really, what I don’t want. I know what I’m doing in bed. (Sorry, Daddy) But I do. I am forty-one, and I’m in my prime. Let’s do this, thing! And I’m ready to CONQUER THE WORLD!!! omg. In the dark, please. Do not turn on the lights. Keep them off, and I’m READY TO CONQUER THE WORLD IN THE DARK!!! I am woman hear me roar. Ugh. But hear me bitch if you don’t pay the bill on the first date. Damn straight. You pay or you are out, mo fo. I had a guy open the car door for me, the other night. I was like.. omg. #winning.

It’s amazing, what blow drying your hair, and putting on a cute outfit can do for a girl. Forget the fact that a guy says something about how I look..bonus! It’s nice to hear, right? But it’s about how I FEEL. And how he looks at me when I’m talking. And he actually wants to know about ME. OMG. Does he really want to hear about ME? And we laugh, and touch. And he thinks I’m funny. As I flip my hair, and smile. You might think it’s pathetic. But really, try it on a Saturday night with your husband. Have him meet you at a restaurant and pretend he’s a blind date! Like on Modern Family! Don’t talk about your kids. Or your bills. Go out for a nice dinner, and just flirt. See how great your sex is that night. Not that I have sex. I’m just saying.

And sure, a haven’t forgotten I have kids, and I love them. And miss them. And yes, I do volunteer work. And I have a job. I do laundry, and clean the house. I wipe my ass. And all the same shit every other women does. I am doing stuff for me. I am “finding myself”. I work out. And BLOG! I’m good, peeps. But guess what? I am single now. And I can go out when my kids are with their dad. And I can flirt. And look pretty. I get to think about someone else besides my husband, and not feel bad about it. Are you jealous, ladies? Don’t be haters. Just try and live vicariously through me, if you want. NO pressure! And if you’re happily married, then I applaud you. And I’m the jealous one. Being happily married is the hardest thing in the entire world. It’s work. And don’t ever give up trying. Most of my married friends have wonderful, strong.. beautiful relationships. And others, are just full of shit. And should have thrown in the towel years ago.. but are too scared to be alone. Can’t give up the Country Club living and just deal with the crap they are dished. Good thing for vibrators. And meds. Omg, did she just say that? Yes, I did. And I’ll say it again. Over and over. Vibrator. Viiiibrator. We can talk about them all day long. Vibrators. ha. 

But for now, my only goal is to be “happily divorced”. I’m going to date, and have fun.. and enjoy being single. For now. Who knows, by my next blog.. I could be TAKEN! I’m open on Sunday evening, call me!

xo j