Is it too soon for me to play this game?

We shall see…

*****

*theme song*

WELCOME TO THE DATING GAME!

Host: Our next bachelorette is a 40-year old 2-time loser divorcee from Utah, who likes music, movies, camping, and crafts, feels horny alone, and feels the need to get laid get back out there. Please welcome…STACEY!

*applause*

Host: So, Stacey. You’ve signed up on a couple of online dating sites.

Me: Yes I have. (No, I’m not gonna tell you which sites I signed up on. And no, it wasn’t eHarmony, cuz they have this tiny little ANNOYING quirk that your divorce has to actually be FINAL before they will let you become a member. And it wasn’t yet. Assholes.)

Host: You’ve survived the challenges of creating a username (eliciting help from a friend who has experience in online dating, laughing at every suggestion she came up with, and in the end choosing an absolutely retarded safe name), completing your profile, uploading a picture, and writing your description.

Me: *nervous laugh* Y-yes.

Host: And you’re not looking for anything serious?

Me: That’s correct. I just want to meet new people and have some fun.

Host: Well great! Let’s get to know the bachelors then!

Me: Bachelor #1, you have a really nice smile.

B1: Thanks.

Me: How would we get to know each other better?

B1: Well, we would start by e-mailing each other while you are in Vegas for the weekend with friends. After a few great e-mails, you would give me your cell number.

Me: Sounds good.

B1: We would start texting each other and those would be good too. I’d even suggest that we go dancing so that we can fix your out-of-practice 2-step. We would trade pictures and your friends would tell you I’m cute.

Me: I like that.

B1: And on the day you’re going back home I would ask if you made it back to the hotel before dawn. Then I would comment that your trip couldn’t have been all that great if you didn’t gamble and didn’t hook up with anyone.

Me: Oh……ok.

B1: We would continue to trade texts for a few hours while you are driving back home. And then I would just stop texting. For no reason. And when you send me an email a few days later, I won’t respond.

Me: ………

B1: And to top it all off, a week later, I’ll include you in a generic holiday greeting I send to all my contacts. That spans 7 text messages.

Me: Well, you would only have been the 1st I’ve met, so cute or not, I won’t let you discourage me. But you should know that I would think you’re an asshole. I’m just saying.

Me: Bachelor #2, same question.

B2: Have you had any luck yet?

Me: Not yet. I’m new to this. What about you?

B2: I’m new too.

Me: So how would we get to know each other better?

B2: Sex.

Me: Wha?

B2: Sex. You want sex, right?

Me: (YES!) No, that’s not what I’m looking for. (That’s good. Sound innocent so he won’t think you’re a ho.)

B2: Well, it’s been over a year for me. And I’m a nice guy. And you’ll get an orgasm.

Me: (Which means you’re prolly an axe murderer. And it shouldn’t matter that it’s been over a year for me too.) Mmmm… (Oh shit. Did I say that OUT LOUD?)

Me: Bachelor #3.

B3: Pick me! Hint hint.

Me: What would be your idea of a good first date?

B3: Well, after trading some text messages, I would suggest that you should invite me over for a drink, cuz you clearly need ice or…something. You would invite me over, we would have a few drinks, talk, and get to know each other.

Me: That sounds nice.

B3: At the end of the date, I would act confused on whether I should shake your hand, hug, or kiss you. You would offer me a hug, and I would not let you go very quickly, even though you try to pull away. I would insist on quite a few more hugs before I leave, too.

Me: Um……

B3: After I got home, I would text you pictures of my cats and tell you I wish I had gotten even more hugs from you. Then I would text you just about every day (including more cat pics) and tell you I miss your company. And your liquor cabinet.

Me: Making me wish you would lose my number. Like yesterday. The people I text every day are those that I’ve known for a couple of DECADES. Not a couple of DAYS. Btw, can I get your last name? I need it for the restraining order.

*****

Perhaps it is too early for me to be playing this game.

P.S. It’s taken me forever to finish writing this.

P.P.S. I keep having to stop writing and start drinking.

P.P.P.S. To try to forget.

P.P.P.P.S. That Bachelor #3 WON’T. STOP. TEXTING. ME.

P.P.P.P.P.S. I think I might put Bachelor #2 on speed dial.

1. The 2nd interview yesterday went well. I think. Keep your fingers crossed for me. And toes. And maybe even your eyes. And hell, if you can cross your bewbs, do it. I need all the help I can get. And know that I’m not opposed to using bribes to get this job.

2. SLCC must have heard all my bitching about their web design degree req’s. Cuz the new catalog now includes a couple of art classes that focus more on the digital design aspect. Yep. I totally made that happen. And I didn’t even have to give a blow job.

3. I’m putting together a playlist of really good sex songs. You know, for when I actually have sex again. With someone else, that is. Recommendations are welcome. For songs. Oh…OK. I’ll consider partner recommendations too.

4. I think my blog needs an overhaul. And I don’t think my skills are quite there yet. So if you stop by, and it’s a bright purple background with neon green text, bear with me. I’m still learning. And the spots you see will eventually fade. I promise.

5. I bought new sheets, a new comforter, new pillows, new shams, and even a brand new mattress. And I STILL wake up stuffed up. Every. Damn. Morning. I give up.

6. I still have to think before I introduce myself, especially when I’m on the phone. You would think that the 20 years I went by my maiden name would override the 14 years I went by my married name. Oh, and GUESS WHAT? If you shorten my name, I’m sPad. Fucking awesome.

7. If I have it my way, I’ll be partying with all the hotties at BlogHer@Home in my new place. And I’ll be KIDLESS that weekend! I can’t wait! Now I just gotta find someone to bankroll my booze.

8. Dating. Fucking. Sucks. Or maybe it’s just that dating in Utah that sucks. No. I’m pretty sure dating bites the big one globally. I think I’m gonna need more alcohol to get through this. Or even just to get through the post I’m writing about my experiences thus far.

9. Coming up with 10 things is HARD. I think I may need more caffeine. In the form of Starbucks of course.

10. 2 packed boxes is NOTHING in the grand scheme of things. I still have a shitload of crap to pack. So, if you’re heading out my way, and have a death wish wanna help, I would be more than happy to help you out (we have lots of high places here) SOOO grateful to have you here. Oh, and I have beer. And wine. And liquor. Did I mention that I have no trouble resorting to bribes?

Disclaimer: Today’s GTT post has the potential to be really REALLY offensive. Yeah, I know. What about my blog ISN’T really really offensive? Point taken. However, if you would rather not take the chance of being offended, you should click over to read about trolls. Cuz honestly. What’s offensive about trolls?

Hey! Did y’all hear? The Olympics are going on right now. No, not the games with the swimmers and the gymnasts. The OTHER games. The WINTER Olympics. Yeah, the games with the questionably masculine figure skaters and the red-headed snowboarding god that made me totally wanna have his babies last night. That is, if I even wanted to have any more babies. And since this baby factory is permanently CLOSED, I’m thinking the chance of me having his red-headed babies is… um… ZERO. But I bet he dies his hair anyway.

Anyhoo… Today’s Girl Talk Thursday question asks “What would you be an Olympic champion of?” Well, shit. That’s easy! I don’t even have to think about this one AT ALL. And it’s a totally new Olympic event, so the gold is gonna be all mine. ALL MINE. Wanna know what it is?

Blow Jobs

Bet you wish you had clicked on that link to go read about the trolls right about now, huh?

And now I bet you’re asking, “Is she SERIOUS?”

Well, if today were different, I might write this whole long thing about my prowess with oral sex and leave you really scratching your head wondering if I was dead dog serious or if accidentally overdosed on Nyquil last night and was still feeling the effects.

But today is what it is. So, I guess a better answer to the question is that I am an Olympic champion of survival. I’m trudging through this challenging course that is life. With my latest set of obstacles of staying in school, looming unemployment, and being a single parent. Again. And I’m surviving. I’m still here.

I’m not the only one out there doing it, though. We all do it. We all make it through each day, through all the trials and challenges that are set before us. Sometimes we miss and take a deduction. Sometimes we totally crash and burn, eliminating any chance for a medal on that round. And sometimes we TOTALLY FUCKING ROCK IT and get the gold.

And that’s all we can do.

I salute you all, fellow champions!

**********

So raise your hand if you were even the TINIEST bit curious about what I would have written if I had stuck with my 1st answer. Uh-huh. That’s what I thought. Y’all are as sick as I am. Good for you.

Husband: Why is the TV screen all slobbery and gross?

Me: Umm…..I dunno. I can tell you what it WASN’T from. It was NOT from me making out with Tom Selleck last night.

Husband: Huh?

Me: Cuz that totally didn’t happen. It must have been the dog.

Husband: What dog? We don’t have a dog.

Me: WTF? What do you mean we don’t have a dog? How could you forget Fifi?

Husband: Fifi?

Me: Yes, Fifi! Our little cockapoo? The one that bit you on the leg last week?

Husband: YOU bit me on the leg last week.

Me: Nooooo. I was pulling Fifi OFF you. She was upset cuz you were ignoring her. I was trying to protect you. Your welcome.

Husband: We do NOT have a dog.

Me: HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? It’s bad enough that you ignore her. Now you’re just being cruel.

Husband: *sigh*

Me: Shhhh! Magnum PI is coming on.

Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if any of that really happened. Except maybe the part about the TV screen being all slobbery and gross. Cuz I don’t need yet another restraining order.

What? You think Tom Selleck would make out with me in real life?

Yeah, me too.

Mondays are rapidly becoming work avoidance days, so I’m getting caught up on my to do list from yesterday.

Many of you are asking, “WTF is a gigglesnort? A lot of my friends can tell you just exactly what it is. A gigglesnort is something that is so amazingly funny, so outrageously funny, so laugh-out-loud funny that it causes me to snort. And it’s no itty bitty snort that leaves you wondering whether or not you really heard it. It’s loud. There’s no mistaking EXACTLY what is and EXACTLY where it’s coming from (i.e. me). And I want to share the things that make me gigglesnort (or come really close to it). Cuz I don’t wanna be alone. I KNOW there is someone else out there that will react just as I do. You know who you are.

So to start it all off an email I received this past week from a friend:

I think this topic is a brilliant way to start participating in Girl Talk Thursday, don’t you? Sadly, it will be pretty short. I’m writing this kinda late and I’m starting to get sleepy. I probably will re-read this tomorrow and add some brilliance to it that I just might miss tonight (watch for the update! LOL).

I have a little late-blooming love for undergarments. But if I had money, it would be a full-blown obsession! I would need a separate closet for just my undergarments! True story. I have my comfy undergarments for some days. The girls need support after all and I’m all about support. But…on the flip side…I just love sexy, frilly, racy, steamy undergarments that just plain make me feel hawt! I am not (I repeat NOT) afraid of thongs. BRING ON THE BUTT FLOSS! Even if no one sees my underwear, I know they are there. And that knowledge it a huge ego boost. HUGE. And the times when someone does get to see them? Honey there’s not enough water in the WORLD to put that fire out!

And since Victoria’s Secret can’t seem to get a fucking clue of what size a REAL sexy woman wears, I have to say how much I love Frederick’s of Hollywood. Frederick’s is this sexy woman’s saving grace. I wouldn’t be able to indulge my addiction without them. Actually, I think it’s time I head upstairs and do some indulging. For me. My ego could use a boost.

Yesterday, I was reading one of the blogs I follow and now I’ll be lucky if they don’t take away my internet access at work. (be warned that it’s potentially NSFW, which is why they’re going to ban me from the internet as work).

The post started out fairly tame. But then I read where it said that Target sells cock rings and I’m all, “The HELL???” So I read it again and I’m all, “WTF???” The author had to be making this up. HAD to be. So I clicked on the link…..and that was all it took. I immediately transformed into a teenage boy, doing my best imitation of Butthead:

Huh huh…huh…uhhhhh…huh huh…you said…huh huh…c-c-c-c-cock…huh huh…huh huh!

But in a much more dignified, womanly manner. Which means that I was drooling on my desk laughing so hard and trying desperately NOT to snort. Oh. My. Gawd. How a few simple words can reduce me to this.

The rest of the post was a blur, since my mind was totally focused on the fact that TARGET SELLS COCK RINGS. Nothing can worm it’s way into my one-track mind at that point. So don’t even try. After my teenage hormones had *somewhat* settled, I HAD to tell people, “Did you know that Target sells cock rings?” Which, of course, pretty much started the giggles all over again.

I don’t know if I will ever truly be able to express my gratitude to her for helping to perpetuate my status of the troublemaker at work. Huh huh…huh huh.

there might be a problem when an innocent lunch invitation turns into inappropriate daydreams. i mean, is like everyone out there a potential bed buddy in my mind? wtf?

i think the shock treatments have backfired. either that or they were trying to turn me into a nymphomaniac where no one is safe. that would be awesome.

update – i gotta call saying that the treatments will be increased. there was also a mention of upping the voltage. apparently i’ve become a danger to society. damn…..i was just starting to come around to the nympho idea.

so i’m watching a house re-run where house is at the cia. he says to another dr, “you know, i have a position available on my penis.”, and i was all ready to strip off my clothes and jump into the tv screaming, “i’ll accept that position, hell yeah! i’ve got an ‘ache’ that only you can cure.” then i ride him right there on the hospital bed, restarting his heart a couple of times until we’re both screaming in ecstasy cuz i’m just that fucking good. hoo-ah!

can i really be that fucking hard up? i must be cuz my fav vibrator and dildo are getting more frequest secret visits from me after dumb ass (a.k.a. the husband) has gone to sleep. granted, that’s not the most preferred option, but the member i would love to have a position on is not an option right now. the owner is not talking to me for some reason, and even if he was, the 1700 miles that separates us still poses a pretty significant problem.

looks like i’m still not gettin’ laid. crap.

i admit it. i receive emails from an online adult store. there, i said it. sometimes the stuff in the emails is just too unbelieveably weird. i received an email today from them and at the top of the message it said:

last chance – 25% off all vibrators for valentine’s day!

and i’m thinking, who in the HELL would give a vibrator as a valentine’s day present? i realize that many try to give something different than the more common candy or flowers. but, really? a vibrator? i guess nothing says true love more than a junk buzzer. well, some might actually agree with that.

maybe hallmark should get in the adult product biz. their new slogan could be “when you care enough to send the very best ………. orgasm”.