I moved two years ago. There’s a story, but I don’t want to tell it yet.

I found myself in a new place, with very few friends. I went on my trusty dating site, and had about the same level of success – almost none. But I did make one good friend. It’s been about two years since we first met.

In those two years, we’ve been walking, hiking, shopping, and napping. We’ve laughed, cried and made dinner together. We’ve had sex Continue reading ‘my friend, with benefits’

don’t change



I love this. What do you think about change?


I had two adult experiences recently, neither of which resulted in a call back. One was what I would call “good” and the other, “bad.” Which begs the question of why? What makes an experience good or bad? It’s all casual, so what was the difference?

I just figured it out.

I’m an adult. I no longer judge myself for having sex, whether it’s a part of or outside of a relationship.

It’s whether or not continue reading

The sad truth is that, while beauty really is only skin-deep, those of us who are considered more attractive get benefits. It’s been proven in countless studies and illustrated by the media. Mainstream movies, TV shows, as well as romance literature rarely focus on the romantic hero or heroine’s fantastic personality and ignore their humpbacks and hairy, wart-ridden faces. Life isn’t like romance novels, but they do illustrate, if not exaggerate societal ideals of masculinity and femininity.

I’m not claiming to be more evolved than most, perhaps just different. As I age, I find I’m less and less interested in appearance. It just doesn’t matter that much. Sure, some people are more attractive than others. I’m not blind. I can see the difference between an Abercrombie model and, say, Santa Claus. I’m way more physically attracted to the 18 year old male model continue reading

fourteen years


I was listening to music tonight and a song came on by an artist who my mother really liked. This particular artist played on the radio every five minutes for a few weeks after my mother died, and some of the lyrics of this song are about being in the arms of angels. It has absolutely nothing to do with my mother continue reading…

I went on a dating website recently. Filled out the profile and cruised around looking for potential people to talk to. I was very casual in what I said, and I looked for like-minded people. I normally have better luck with the ones I contact first. Probably because I already think I might like them.

I got almost no responses to my messages, and from what I’ve heard, that’s normal. I got about a dozen contacts over the course of the week. Those guys seemed to fall into two categories: men slightly older than me who are interested in serious, lifetime relationships and younger men who want to know continue reading…

The title of my blog notwithstanding, I haven’t written much, if anything, about smut. I was thinking about this today. Well, I was thinking about smut. I enjoy reading in many genres; and when I read romance, whether or not it’s erotic, I tend to fantasize.

It stops at fantasy, though. It’s doubtful whether the hero so often portrayed in romances would be as fabulous in real life. While the fantasy of having a take-charge lover who knows what he wants and how to drive me wild sexually is marvelous, a partner who constantly makes decisions for me continue reading…

I told a very good friend today that I had fallen in a hole (of depression) and she asked me when it started. She said she had to ask, because I fall a lot. Ouch. It’s stinging in my head. I don’t know how else to explain it. Sometimes, someone says something that just hurts. It then plays over and over in my head continue reading…

a brief pause


I live in a relatively friendly neighborhood. In these modern times and in such a large city, it’s rare to even nod to stranger. When I lived in my house, I smiled at everyone walking down the street, and I knew most of the people around me. In my new apartment only a few blocks away, I’m pleased to say I know a few of the tenants by name and even have a few phone numbers.

My next door neighbor is older. She’s an interesting woman, originally from the West Indies. continue reading…

A good friend told me this week that Ekhart Tolle says that by taking even one conscious breath a day we can achieve higher awareness.

I’ve been whining to him about my lack of ability to follow through, to stay in the present, to get to the next level in my path toward “enlightenment” or whatever you want to call it. He couldn’t relate at all to my thought continue reading…