First Kisses (Maple Syrup-Like Sap Warning)

The movies always portray the first kiss as this wondrous little sparkle that ignites the fuse of the relationship and burns quickly until–you guessed it–you get to that stick of dynamite and everything blows up.

Oh, don’t worry, ya’ll.  Mike and I are nowhere near the end of that fuse.  I’m not quite sure there is one ( 😀 ).

I don’t believe that everyone has their “first kiss” and that’s it. I mean, each first kiss is a chance to start it all over.  That’s why people place so much precedence on it.

My very first first kiss was kind of a disaster.  I didn’t know it was coming, or what I was doing for that matter.  I was walking a boy out of my parents’ house on an early spring night.  I thank him for stopping over, gave him a hug.  And with my attempt to end the hug, I had lips on my face.  Strong, high school band, trumpet playing lips.  In truth, I didn’t want it to ever happen again. When I went back into the house, my mother realized my horror and smiled.

Oddly, I do not recall the first kiss of the boy I dated for three years in high school.  It was either on a bench at the ice rink, or in the back of my mother’s minivan while she drove us to his house.

There was a first kiss in my dorm room at Ashland University that I had been waiting for for months and told my roommate Kay about in the showers the next morning–all babbling and blushing and wonderful.

A hesitant first kiss on my front porch after he’d jumped down, paused, thought twice, and jumped back up.  That kind of sums up that relationship.

There was a first kiss that devastated a two-year infatuation in a single moment with a long-haired, Trans-Am driving mechanic that smelled of patchouli rose oil and Marlboros.  Because really, a kiss is sometimes all you need to know that what you were after was a bad idea.

And then I remember my first kiss with Mike.  Weeks of wanting to, but being unable.  Too many nights holding hands in the streets, our forearms brushing together, staring at each other’s mouths.  And then watching a movie in a dimly lit living room on Petral Court, he made a joke about Dirty Dancing, I jokingly pouted about Patrick Swayze and pulled a quilt over my head.  And then he was under the quilt with me, all warm breath and closeness, the light poking through the swirls left by the thread that held the quilt together.  In the dark, where neither one of us could see, our lips landed on one another’s and lit the fuse.

It was the best first kiss of my life.  And if I’m lucky, it’ll be the last first kiss of my life. 🙂

 

 

Why Pigs…I Mean Men Are Attracted to Younger Women

To continue with my Matt-Based Topic Week on the blog, I will address why men are attracted to younger women.  And if you’re a man and you say you aren’t, then you are lying.

Let’s just get right into this, shall we?

Men are attracted to younger women because:

1)  It’s survival of the fittest.  “Darwinism.”  Yes, the quotes are intentional, but whatever we choose to call this doesn’t change my opinion.  Men go after younger women because younger women radiate fertility.  Most men are looking to spread the ole seed, and they’re looking for good places to fertilize–places that will result in carrying on their legacy–or at least their offspring.

2)  Because younger women make them feel young again.  It’s a nostalgia thing.  As men age, they start getting nostalgic.  Think about it–ever walk up to a bonfire full of men, and all they’re talking about are the things they did when they were younger?  Well, they see a young red-headed 18-year-old at the grocery store and are reminded of that wild night in a hot tub when they were 17.  It makes them feel young again.  I get it.

3)  To up their ego–and to prove that they are still attractive.  A man thinks, “Hey, if I can get that young piece of tail to look at me, I’ve still got it going on.”  Okay, so maybe that’s not what they think verbatim, but you get what I mean.  And if they can get a young woman to walk down a crowded street with them, then they can show off that they’ve still got it to a ton of people.  In reality, though, all we’re thinking is, “He must have money.”

4)  Teacher Syndrome.  Older men think that they’ve got something to show the world.  They’ve been around, they’re “wiser.”  Ha ha, sorry.  Anyway, they think they can take an inexperienced girl and rock her world–show her something that she hasn’t seen before, make her feel like she never has before.   Good luck with that, men.

5)  Sugar Daddy Complex.  Many of the men who have Teacher Syndrome also have Sugar Daddy Complex.  Older men generally are more established and can provide younger women with things that younger men can’t–like $500 purses and student loan payments.

6)  The booty.  Men think that if they date a younger woman, they’re going to get the booty like they haven’t gotten it in years–either from their wives, ex-wives, or women their age.  This is probably true.  But watch out, boys–you make break a hip.

7)  Because they can’t/shouldn’t have it.  If we learned anything about my highly controversial, traffic-drawing blog post about longing for someone you can’t have, then we learned that people want what they can’t, and in this case shouldn’t, have.  Younger women are the holy grail for men, and regardless of how slim the chances are, they will continually go after them to prove that they can successfully get her attention.

So those are my theories.  There may be more.  There may be less.  You may think it’s bullshit.  🙂

However, if there is an older man out there who would like to purchase me the $500 handbag (oh come on, you knew it was me) or pay my student loans, you can contact me by leaving me a comment below.  I will NOT supply you with booty, but I’ll clean your house and do your laundry for a year!

 

What I Learned from Watching Children Fight in the Grass

What I saw on last night’s run:

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On a late summer afternoon, the grass sways lazily in Autumn’s approaching breath.  The sun is still warm and cutting slants through the trees, and jets move silently through the sky, leaving white trails that spread out and disappear into clouds.  A cardinal is chirping in a nearby tree, the smell of grilled hamburgers is in the air, and the sounds of children laughing in backyards while they throw grass at one another bounces off the houses. 

In the front yard of a white house with blue shutters, four children sit in a circle in the grass.  They are only four or five years old, and there are three boys and one little girl.  All of the boys are shirtless and wearing “play” shorts.  The little girl is in a blue and white sailor dress, her hair mussed on one side, her cheeks rosey.  They all laugh. 

Then one boy tackles another.  They play fight, roll in the grass.  The other boy jumps in on the fight.  They growl.  The girl twirls a piece of grass in between her fingers and watches intently as they begin to tumble into a shallow ditch near the yard.  She hesitates, inches forward and settles back down, then moves forward again and tickles the feet of the boy at the bottom of the pile.

One of the other boys gets up, runs around the girl and plops himself in front of her, blocking her from the boy’s feet.  She smiles, leans back and crosses her arms.  

The cardinal continues to chirp.

The boys continue to fight.

And the girl has gotten her first lesson in dating.

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Oddly enough, I saw this in only a matter of seconds as I ran past the house.  It just seemed so clear to me that it encompassed everything about the way boys and girls interact.  The girl wants to play like the boys, but they’ve already singled her out as different.  She likes the one who doesn’t want anything to do with her.  And the boy that does like her?  The one who can’t stand the fact that she’s tickling somebody else’s feet, well, she wants nothing to do with him.

It’s no wonder that so many love lives are full of turmoil or difficulty.

We’re all lucky to find that guy whose feet we want to tickle, and who actually wants us to.

 

 

 

What I Would Tell a Potential Boyfriend

First of all, I am so glad that I am not on the dating scene anymore.  It’s odd how much I hope I never have to go back to it.  I’m just so happy where I am that I don’t particularly crave that notion to “snag” someone anymore.

But I read a blog post by my buddy Tim today, that kind of really made me wonder what I would just tell people up front to avoid all the games and so that there were no surprises when we got further into the relationship.  I’m all for flirting, and for some games, but at this point in my life, I’m just happy to have a man who knows all of these things already.  I love my Mike so much.

So here are the things that I would bare to the person I was trying to date.  And my timing would probably be horrible.  And if you know anything about me, they would all come out in the first conversation I ever had with said-man:

1)  You’re not getting any.  This is a pants-on party.

2)  Oh, yes.  I am looking for someone to marry.  So don’t waste my time.

3)  I like kids.  You had better like kids.

4)  I’m a dog person.  Don’t bring that cat into my house.

5)  Diamonds are always a good gift.

6)  I can get a little jealous.

7)  I will put cold feet/hands/noses on you to warm myself up.  I will not ask first.

8)  I expect you to talk to my parents.

9)  Don’t yell at me when I get drunk.  A glass of wine a night is VERY acceptable.

10)  I will buy baby clothes even though I do not have a baby.

11)  Sometimes, I will just tell it like it is.

12)  If I walk away from you, I expect you to come after me.

13)  I won’t expect you to enjoy jewelry if you don’t expect me to enjoy golf.

14)  I fall asleep in the car.

15)  I will suppress PMS for about the first year.  Then I’m not responsible for what goes on.

16)  Don’t touch me for at least an hour after I’ve eaten.

17)  I will ask you for a puppy until you say we can have one.

18)  Just because I lust after long hair doesn’t mean you have to have it.

19)  You must believe in God.

20)  I expect you to trust me, and for you to give me no reason to mistrust you.

Now that I have successfully ruined any chance of dating any of the men who read my blog, I will rely heavily on Mike and I to work out.  😉

 

First-Hand Encounters

I.  Ice skating in circles, two teenage hands steady one another in a pure white rink while country music plays.  The glitter from my hair falls onto my cheeks and gets stuck to his lips.  Life is easy here; we hold so much potential.

II.  Between a sunset and a sunrise in a tent, we never slept.  His fingertips traced the scars on my hands as he asked me for my story.

III.  In the dark of a dorm room, everything was solved with his callused hand on the small of my back, raking his memory into my skin.

IV.  Against the cool burgundy counter top, he placed his palm against the back of my hand.  Unable to intertwine my fingers with his, I knew we would never be open to more.

V.  His hand and mine-silhouettes against a white-blinded window, dancing around one another in the dark.  We saw the world with our hands, felt the creases and scars.

VI.  Hands grasping one another over coffee in a parked car on a hot southern night.  And then my palm against his lips, my lips against the back of my hand.  Too many barriers to tear down on our own.

VII.  At night, my hand searches cold sheets looking for his, to fill it, to hold it, to know it.

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A few days (weeks?) ago, I wrote why I like men’s hands:

•  Hands I do this (stare at them when I’m interested in a man) for multiple reasons.  First of all, if I end up dating this guy, those are the hands he’s going to be using to hold my hand, to move the hair out of my face, and a few other things.  so they’ve gotta be good hands.  What constitutes as good hands?  Strong ones.  Ones that aren’t lotioned and lathered, but callused and rough.  Thick fingers, short fingernails, and some scars are always a nice addition.  The point is that good man hands demonstrate work and ability.  They can withstand struggles and move mountains.  I respect dirt and oil that is permanently in the creases of their palms, and I even forgive dirt under the fingernails.  It’s just so hot.  I also look to see if there’s a wedding ring.  While it’s unintentional and DARN sexy, I do respect marriage and will immediately discount him.

There is more.  Like my friend Tim said, you learn from someone’s hands.  You learn about them.  You learn about love.  You learn about life.

 

The Book of Love (For Men): What Women Are…

To start off, here’s what folks said on my “social media” sites when I asked them what women are:

WhatisaSKYWALKA: @HootyLou Women are the most interesting and mysterious creatures on the planet, anything with the cognitive ability to feel like you do is pretty amazing

Danielle:  The reason the world doesn’t fall apart!

Katie:  The new men.

Toni:  The caregivers of the world.

Jarrad:  Vaginas, boobs, and humans….. is that sexist? Ok seriously, human race that can birth children, lack y chromosomes, have less testosterone but more estrogen than men…. you get the picture……. vaginas, boobs, and humans.

Tim:  My life’s work

Jackie:  A man’s backbone!!If ya know what I mean??????????

Chris:  nerds

Ashly:   Women are the caregivers, the taxi’s, the house keeper, the chef, the babysitters, the lovers, the calendars, the financial keepers. Or in my case… I have to be everything (to my child) and more.

Michael:  The reason Adam ate the apple in the first place haha

Jackie:  And when Eve told him to take a bite his reply was……..Yes dear!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!hahahahahahahahahah

Tim:  But if too big a bite, its gonna taste like shit 🙂

Craig:  I’d halfta say, a piece of god’s work that he over achieved on.

Beki:  The final draft.

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And what do I think?  Well, I only took this question because I stupidly said, “Well, women aren’t real life.”  To which, my witty friend said, “Then what are they?”

I’m trying to figure that out.  If you catch me on the right day, I’ll say, “Bitches be crazy.”  Other times, I think that women kinda rock–to which I immediately knock myself back into place by telling myself to get back in the kitchen and make a pie.  😉

I when I said that women aren’t real life, I meant that maybe that dealing with women defy all the rules that apply to normal everyday life.  Calm down, feminists–I don’t mean this to be a bad thing.  It’s hard to use everyday logic or reasoning when it comes to dealing with a woman.  So here are my reasons for saying that women aren’t real life, by way of explaining exactly what women are:

–  Women are rational and irrational, and you never know what you’re going to get.  It’s roulette, and you love that about us.
–  Women are surprises.  Sometimes they’ll do something that completely throws you off kilter or outta this world (get it?  real life?).
–  Women are easy laughers, easy criers, easy everythingers.  We wear our emotions on our sleeves.
–  Women are steel traps.  Women want you to “pry” whatever it is that they don’t want to talk about out of them.
–  Women are strong, emotionally, mentally, and physically.  Watch one have a baby.  You’ll see what I mean.
–  Women are a challenge, which makes it more fun for you to try and win us.  (maybe.)
–  Women mothers, sisters, daughters, friends, and so much more–simultaneously.
–  Women are hard to put your finger on, or hold under your thumb…

I almost feel like this list is getting to be feminist.  Like women are some magical creatures that we should appreciate for their sheer mystery.  But that’s just not true, damnit.  Women can be pains in the asses, just like men.  They can be stubborn and bitchy and do whatever it takes just to make you angry.  But they’ll also turn around and make you forget why you were mad in the first place.

My final answer is this:  Women aren’t real life–they are anomalies.  They may not stick to the norms and may confuse the hell out of you–but you can bet your ass that they’re there when you need them, and that you can rely on them.

Just don’t rely too heavily.  Then we run away.  😉  KIDDING.  Crimeny.

 

The Book of Love (for Men): The Badass Factor

***EDIT*** Ya’ll are missing the point of this!  Women want men who ARE kind and decent, but have that badass factor about them!  The example below is exaggerated for a purpose.  WE WANT NICE GUYS WITH SOME BADASS FACTORS!  That is precisely why it’s a factor, and not a state of being.  CRIMENY. ***

So begins the Bon Bons and Martinis Series called “The Book of Love!”  Some of these will address men, some women.  I’m here to tackle the things that you all do that make me sick.  🙂  Or just try to make you understand some things that I think I’ve figured out.  Or I’m just spouting off a bunch of horrible advice that will ruin your life if you take it.

Each post shall tackle a different situation, or an aspect of dating.  Today’s chapter is: 

The Badass Factor

Guys guys guys, you think we all want the nice guy.  It’s. Not. True.  Well, in some aspects.  We want a nice guy once we’re IN a relationship.  We want a badass to start with.  Let’s use an example:

A girl is standing in among a group of guys.  And let’s be honest–girls think that they have every ability in the world to manipulate you with batting eyelashes, sly smiles, by chewing on their bottom lip and looking up seductively.  For the most part, this is true.  That or you think we’re having a seizure.

But among this group of men, there is one guy who is consistently checking in with the girl to see if she might need a refill on her drink, or if the sun is in her eyes.  Or he’s asking about that book she read or inquiring about her weekend plans.  He leans into her to make sure he catches her every word, and he sympathizes with her and blah blah blah.  All those things, you know, you think women want you to do.

On the other side of the group, there’s a guy in torn jeans who has ignored the girl as she chews her lip, who continually looks at his watch, and who is more interested in talking with the rest of the guys about hunting or fishing or how drunk he got the weekend before. And he’s got a scruffy face, and it’s obvious that he hasn’t combed his hair, but he standing straight and tall and looking around the bar like, “Go ahead.  Try me.”

So which guy does the girl want 95.5% of the time?  You can bet your ass it’s the second guy.  But why?  All you nice guys seem to be confused as to why you’re getting stashed away in the friend category before you can even ask to borrow a tampon from the girl.  (Sorry, low blow.)  I’ll tell you why.

You have no badass factor.  You’re too easy.  She already knows that she can walk all over you, come to you when she needs someone to tell her she’s pretty, to clean out her gutters, buy her dinner, and then pick her back up when some badass breaks her heart.  And you know what?  She’ll still want the badass!

Girls want the badass guy because–most simply–he’s a challenge.  Every girl loves a challenge, especially when it comes to a boy.  Think about the guy in the group who wouldn’t spend two seconds looking at the girl.  Well, she automatically takes that challenge to catch his eye.  And if she can hold it for more than a few seconds, or make him look twice, she’s onto the next one:  to get him to talk to her.

The second reason to want a badass is because he’s confident.  Women don’t want that guy who’s always bobble-heading around them, just waiting for that perfect moment to put his head on her shoulder and watch Dirty Dancing.  No.

Finally, women see badassness as a chance to make herself stand out in his eyes.   This one is a little tougher.  Okay, so the girl gets the guy to look at her for a second.  Then she catches him looking at her again.  And in their first conversation, he tells her how very much he hates missing a Cleveland Indians baseball game on a Sunday afternoon.  The girl and the badass start hanging out, and he challenges her, and she challenges him, but is secretly trying to win his affection.

And then it happens–there’s a one-day art exhibit on a Sunday afternoon in May, during a home game between the Cleveland Indians and the Detroit Tigers, and the Indians are on a 10-game winning streak.  And the guy walks away from the television and takes her to the art exhibit.

It’s then that women know they are special to the badass.  That he’s still a confident, challenging, cocky badass, but that he’ll deviate from his normal ways for her.  And that is the most charming quality a man can have.  A badass guy with a soft spot for a girl.

And that’s when women want you to start doing the nice things. 

 

Long Distance Run-Around

Thanks to Doug Hoover, an artist friend of mine who I met on a ferry to the OBX, and he painted me.

Since I’ve started dating, I’ve had one boyfriend that lived in the same town as me.  I dated Phill in high school, and we were together for almost 3 years.  I was a year older.  I went to college.  We fell apart.  Distance tore us apart…among some other things–like Phill really wanted to pursue his life as a youth minister for the Presbyterian church.  I wanted to experience college…and he wasn’t too keen on the drinking.  We really did grow apart, and we’re still civil, so that’s all that can be expected.

After that, I became obsessed with dating people from my hometown of Fremont, Ohio.  I felt dating outside of that town was a slap in the face to my parents, and to where I came from.

The boys I dated from there were okay for what they were while they lasted, but it took me awhile to realize that I didn’t belong in Fremont anymore.  So in North Carolina, I met Mike.  I thought my long-distance days were over, and that I would finally have a man in the same town.  We relished every night together…and then he told me that his company may close down, which would mean his job was history.

A month after we officially started dating, Mike moved to Pennsylvania–11 hours away from me.  Welcome back, Long Distance.  I thought I’d be okay with it.  I mean, it’s all I’d ever known.  I survived grad school, moved to him where we were together for about five months, and then distance again.  I took the job in Ohio, and Mike can’t get here yet.

So we see each other on the weekends, which means that we attempt to make the best of those days because they’re all we have.  But that also meant we didn’t fight…until this weekend.

It sucks to waste what little time we have together fighting, but I realize that we have to do it to learn each other…and to bring us closer together.  I feel like this time, it did.  But I’m not going to see him this weekend because he’s going to watch the NFL playoffs with his family, and I’m going to my cousin’s baby’s birthday party.  So we had a weekend of fights leading into two weeks apart.

This distance is taking its toll…and I’m not appreciative.  Mike and I will kick your ass, Long Distance.  We will kick you so far away that you won’t ever be able to find your way back to us.