My Purpose: Entertain, Inspire, Be Happy, Free Hugs!
 

Project: 50 First Dates aka Wanna Date Me?

Wanna Date?Shut. The. Front. Door! Project 50 first dates? Master Dater??? So, here’s the dealio. In case you’ve forgotten, I am now a (self-)certified Dating, Love and Relationship Coach—Expert! I mean, why not, right? I’ve studied love and relationships for years! Yes, because, like a mechanic’s broken down car, my own love life was in dire straits and needed some serious fixing. Crazy as it seems, I know a thing or ten thousand about people. But a mechanic doesn’t often get around to their own vehicle—until they have to. After giving love and relationship advice all these years, I figured I’d better start walking the talk. Yep. Luck favours the bold and brazen. (And crazy.) Here I...

The Turkish (d)Rug Dealer.

Boracay Beach, Philippines Blog Seven. I'm walking along the Strip one day, and a man just sort of appears beside me. It happens so naturally that I'm not caught off-guard, and the next thing you know we've walked several beach blocks together. He tells me he's a rug dealer but, with his accent, it sounds like drug dealer. (Later, when I get to know him more, I'm not sure I actually heard him wrong.) He's touchy feely and has rug- (thug-?) beating meaty hands that constantly graze my shoulder, hip, and hair, and make me adjust my I(heart)BoracayPhilipinnes satchel to a more secure placement. But he laughs a lot and is charming. And alarming. I followed you, he...

And Then There Was One ... As in: Me, As in: Single, Single Here! (As in: Sad sigh.)

After taking a FaceBreak for a month, I go back on social media hub central. As I’m not so inclined to browse through a month’s worth of newsfeed for ‘my closest 400+ best friends,’ I simply jump back in mid-stream.Interestingly, it is true that no one does miss you (me) when you (I) leave the FB party. The real—not virtual—friends and I have stayed in contact outside of social media. Two of my closest friends aren’t even on FB.Nonetheless, coming clean, I am self-publishing a memoir in the coming months, and the book marketing course I took last summer was all “social media, social media!” There are other ways to procure purchases, but they’re slower going and a lot more...

Today I’m Kind of Sad. And Fat.

The highlight of my week is the Wednesday Santa Monica Farmers’ Market. It’s really the only place my budget allows me to buy unabashedly; after all, I need to eat, right? Numerous vendors sell everything from chocolate mint to persimmons and to fresh-baked artisan breads, from all manner of cattle (beef, bison, pork) to the most colourful array of produce; my favourite is the green, yellow, red, purple and almost black heirloom tomatoes—oh, my Golly, they’re like candy! I’ve taken to blending my breakfast. Mermaid, my housemate, has a Blendtec, which is a professional grade food pulverizer. Some argue that the Vitamix is the best. I’ve used both and prefer the former, though our friend, Tango (he dances), swears by...

What a Woman (This One) Wants in a Man aka Why I Defer to Food

I have a spreadsheet in my purse that I’ve had since 2008. It’s my Dealmakers/Dealbreakers List. Its alphabetized words are faded, scratched out, reassigned, modified and 60 points long, which is reduced from the 100 long that it used to be. The 100-long list is detailed in my memoir. (Preview/buy here.) I’ll include the updated top 20 herein as I suspect that should scare most eligible men away. Assuming there’s attraction, which for this woman, is based on the visual physical and chemistry/pheromones/hormones/parfum-de-soul, these are the requisite add-ons: Honourable: This covers a lot. You do the right thing because you want to—not because anyone will find out and not in any way with which you need to (self-) justify. You...

Just What Category of Sex ARE We Agreeing To?

From the time I was 21, I’ve gone from one serious, committed relationship to the next with nary a breather in betwixt. Oh sure, a couple of times between those relationships I tested the sheets with a few non-relationship fellows—I think that’s common nowadays and, even if not, that’s what I did as part of my journey. But for the most part, my M.O. was as follows: meet man, have chemistry, have sex, move in, fight, break up, repeat cycle. The details could fill a boring, repetitive book. (I didn’t put all this tedium in my “Memoir.”) After my split with my ex-husband, Nice Man, almost seven years ago now, I went through a rapid series of serious relationships;...

An Honest Online Non-Dating Profile (Mine)

This one's for the single straight men out there. I’m in Venice Beach, California. Home of misfits, hippies, hipsters, homeless, surfers, tourists, artists, con-artists and more singles than you can shake a handmade-hemp-stick at. (Also, stay tuned for more on this in: "The Abbott Kinney Disconnect - A Misfit's Musings".) I meet a new guy friend every other day, either at the beach, espresso shop, grocery store or anywhere in between. (So far, no ladies are very friendly, though I do try and—fine—I’ve only been here two days and met one dude, so perhaps I’m exaggerating ... but still.) Everyone is looking for connection and probably love (or a temporary measure of it, which is not...

The Art of Flirting

August. Getting ready for the music event (details later), my girlfriend and I discuss the art of flirting. Friend: “You’re so good at it, you have to show me what to do.” We’re both single. I reply, “It’s easy—make eye contact and laugh a lot.” Friend: “Okay, well, show me anyway.” She’s gorgeous and doesn’t even have to follow the two-step protocol I’ve just given her. She just needs to show up, but somehow she can’t see it. I say, “You need to learn to love yourself! Look at you. I love me. I think I’m amazing! In a non-narcissistic way, of course. And you’re way hotter...

A Gamut of Guys—Gama Rays of Rejection OR Why Rejection is Good for You (Me)!

July. I met a great guy recently in my Small Town, who I hung out with for awhile, enjoyed the company of, laughed endlessly with, went on hikes with (well, one hike), had coffee with (thrice), and looked at real estate with (I’m no longer a licenced salesperson, therefore, don’t have a lockbox key, therefore, they are drive by sightings—not B&Es). He is a man who has his shit together and is intelligent and interesting and—yes, I’ll admit—has lovely, soulful eyes and who, after a weekend jaunt out of town (him not me), never contacts me again! WTH? Perhaps he found some fine filly more his wave. To be sure, I know he isn’t for me...

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