Classy and sexless!

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This is the new-age dilemma. Some version of this conversation has been going on for days amongst my friends.

If you are my daddy or my kid, don’t read on from here. And if you do, well it’s your own fault. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

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I know this is an age-old dilemma for women but I think it gets worse as you age.  As a single woman, how can you have it all?  This is the catch-22….you like being single; you like sex; you want to be classy.  For whatever reason, these 3 can’t seem to co-exist.  Toss in online dating and the MANY conundrums associated with it and you have the modern day grown woman’s dilemma.

Now I get that I am a grown-ass woman and I can do whatever the heck I want to do…one of the great plusses to being single.  However, I also don’t want to take on the life of a nun either.  And being classy is a state of mind….so logic should say, “do what you want; you don’t answer to anyone.”  I think this may be a product of my southern upbringing.

My BFF and I have had this ongoing discussion for a while now because can we (women in general) separate sex from a relationship?  I’m not sure it’s possible.  The men I’ve discussed this with don’t seem to have this problem.  They have “boxes” for things and evidently they’re not related to one another at all.  This videoexplains it perfectly and it’s quite comical.

Another friend contends that we (me particularly) are placing too much pressure on men to be in a relationship too early.  In all fairness (to me), this is Amy’s position and she’s kind of a hippie anyway.  But the question remains, can older woman have a man-toy without then changing the rules on him and wanting a relationship of some sort?  And should class (or lack thereof) be tied to sex within a relationship as opposed to sex without a relationship?  And most importantly, why aren’t men having these issues?

Man!  I am too old!

  • Too old for moving.
  •  Too old to sleep on a blow up mattress. But I did for a week between vacation and the move (see previous complaint).
  • Too old for those new-fangled remote access/video tellers at banks. Those that know me well know that I am a stickler for good customer service. A teller on a computer screen just does not do it for me. 

Well the house closing is complete. The move is in the books as they say. Thanks to my son and one of his friends, I am completely unboxed.  It really feels good to downsize and get rid of stuff. If you know me and read this, do NOT buy me anymore stuff. Let’s find another way to celebrate. 

I always marvel at the great friends I’ve cultivated over the last few years. There are a few long term friends but for the most part it has only occurred to me in the last 10 years how truly important great friends are to my life. 

My oldest son came by and brought their young daughter and I was terrified the whole time she would fall on my concrete floor and bust her head. My new home is definitely not little kid friendly. She’s a cutie and brings out an adorable side of her father. He is definitely smitten with her. 


My friend and painter came by to help me choose some wall colors. He has a great eye and is very meticulous. If you ever need a painter, let me know. 
My two closest friends came and visited and offered a different eye to my placement of things in my new place. Isn’t it funny how we have a “place” for things and can’t imagine things in a different role? I will have to say that the close friends I have now are ones that would defend me rigorously to others, and totally call me on my bullshit once we’re in private. That’s friendship at its most productive. 

My Daddy will come visit my new place this weekend and we will catch up…really don’t do that enough…I need to be better at that. 

School starts back in a couple of weeks and hopefully I will be good and settled by then. Life has finally settled down a little and at least at the end of the day I don’t stink…it has been crazy hot. 

Got me a new haircut and color today. Now a manicure and pedicure and I should be good to go…now I just need to find someone to take me somewhere. Lol

The Dream: Day 19

The Georgia sun is hot, hot, hot!  As I am trying to parcel my sun days wisely, I ventured into Wilmington Island (which is weird because it evidently isn’t actually an “island” at all) and roamed and explored. 

As I am from a town that has a large Hispanic population, Mexican food is at a premium. Therefore, it isn’t easy to find good Mexican food just anywhere. As I was exploring, I found a Mexican restaurant and decided to do something other than seafood for a change. It was good!


It’s no Los Reyes (best salsa ever) but a nice change of pace. 

Bingo on the island was in store for the evening. As is always my way, I happen to sit at a table with a teacher (retired). She (Elaine) was delightful and very helpful. I didn’t win money but I did win a new connection. 


Two weeks left and then home to hopefully an uneventful move and onto a new chapter of my life. Minimalism is my new goal. I’ve done very well downsizing in the last few years. I want to travel more and have less things to hold me back. Night all from Tybee Island. 

The Dream: Day 18

The clouds lifted today and the sun returned. Lisa and the girls went home and I’m already planning for my next visitors. Couple of friends from work and some family will close out the stay on Tybee. It’s been relaxing and exhausting, busy and boredom, sunny and rainy…and always hot!  Georgia summers. Whew!

Last night when we went to dinner (Lighthouse Pizza), the waitress recognized me!  That’s either good or bad, depending on your perspective. I’m going with good!  I felt “part” of the island at that moment. And it is one of my favorite places. 

The rental agency delivered a brand new vacuum to me today so I could tidy up and I found a Kroger on Wilmington Island. There’s only one small IGA on the island so it was a nice familiar find. 

Another beautiful end to a nice day. My life is so blessed. I try to remind myself of that daily and be thankful for this opportunity. It’s been nice to relax and spend time with family and friends. Great memories. 

No “sun” in this sunset, but equally beautiful. 

The Dream: Day 8

Ok…in an effort to keep it real, I’m gonna admit that I’m bored. I know! Sad, but true. But in defense of Tybee, I’d be bored anywhere after too much down time. Today was gloomy…in weather and in mood. 

For those that have known me forever, you know how I am. And for those of you who don’t, it’s the teacher conundrum for me. I came to teaching late and am unsure how to handle down time. So, several things happened today…

  • I visited a local high school to see if I “felt it” there…I didn’t…they had metal detectors at the entrance.
  • I called about a local rental…very rare on the island…no one stays for long term evidently. It was already rented. 
  • Which turned out to be a good thing because a place I’ve wanted to live in Dalton…old factory made into lofts..and next to impossible to get into…approved my app and called me for a place in August. 
  • It’s a townhome, which I didn’t think I’d want, until having marathon-training kids in the condo above me for a few days. Again, no one stays long, so it’s temporary. 
  • Now if my house would sell while I’m away, I’ll consider it a sign that I’m moving in the right direction. I’m ready to get out of the commitment of home ownership. No lawn maintenance. More travel.
  • I don’t think I’m built for downtime. The thought of one day retiring stresses me out a little. I’m envious of those people that have true hobbies to consume them. 

As I walked the beach tonight, the funk lifted with the sunset. 

And tomorrow my son and family come to visit for a few days. That will make me less bored I’m sure. 

And even though it was gloomy all day today, I came “home” to a beautiful sunset on my wall. Beautiful colors. 

After Midnight

My grandmother always said “nothing good happens after midnight!” What is “good” is very relative and changes with age.

My 20 year old self: “oh my! We don’t even get dressed to go out until dark!” This is hysterical now because I can’t drive after dark…well I can…I just shouldn’t.

To my 19 year old son: “please don’t get in any trouble! And if you do, call your dad!:

And here is the reality of that statement…after 10pm, I’ve likely taken my Ambien and will not remember a single, solitary thing we talked about.

Hence this conversation with my BFF at lunch yesterday:

Me: we still going to Harrah’s Casino Thursday?

BFF: huh? (Total confusion)

Me: we had a whole conversation last night when you texted me after midnight.

BFF: we did?

Me: uh, yes we did. We talked about taking a day trip; what time we should leave; what ur wearing to a job interview tomorrow; a text you had earlier with a mutual friend…along with pics!

BFF: (getting her phone out and scrolling messages) hmmm…guess we did!

Me: Ambien?

In her defense, she’s a newbie to the Ambien amnesia. I can say that because I DID remember the conversation.  Matter of fact, I was already dreaming of what to do with my winnings.  But as a good friend I had shared my own hilarious experiences.

For example, Lord forbid you be on my shit list AND in my contact’s list. Let’s just say more than one man has disappeared from my life under what seemed like an un-called for disappearing act.

Giving essay writing advice to my son for his college essays…he DID pass English but barely and clearly not on the merits of my advice.

Personal advice…write your blog anytime the mood hits you, but DON’T post until morning! Trust me on this!

Ambien is like a truth serum so if you don’t want to know exactly what I think, don’t ask me after 10pm. On the other hand, if you’re my kid and you want permission or money, it’s hands-down your better option.

And for the love of God, do not use me as your one phone call from jail…I will often wonder why you’ve disappeared from my life so unexpectedly. And you will wonder where the hell I am, because I will possibly say I’m on my way to get you and go back to sleep. I’m so sorry! Don’t take Ambien while you’re in jail.

Anyone that calls me late at night and knows me well starts with “have you taken your Ambien yet?” before they proceed. I have smart friends.

Like all things in life…it’s relative. Best sleep of my life and a great excuse to tell it like it is!  If this is anything like my future, old lady, tell it like it is, self…I like it!  After all, “the truth will set you free” they say…unless you’re in jail…remember, don’t call me after 10pm!

I can’t make you more by making me LESS!

I love me a hard-working man…a manly man…a man that will climb out of the truck and whoop someone’s ass if necessary.  And I’ve rarely passed a passel of blue jean-clad, hard-hat wearing, up at dawn, men that I didn’t feel the testosterone barrier suck me in.  Something deep in my primitive brain says “that man can take care of me.”  And that’s where it starts ladies…right then and there…the hair twirling, the exaggerated sway of the hips, the licking of lips, the slight glance and innocent smile as you daintily skirt the construction zone that you can’t possibly navigate without the help of a big, strong man.  It’s a beautiful dance and one every southern girl worth her grits has mastered from an early age.

Whoa….yes, you could sop him up with a biscuit (the good ones your grandmother makes, not the canned ones) IN THAT MOMENT.  Been there, done that…several times…and loved every single moment of those early days.  And then the white collar/blue collar dance begins.  Some people can meld their lives into a beautiful shade of pale blue…but for most it’s an oil and water solution that no amount of simmering heat can mix together seamlessly.

Now before you get all up in arms and assume I’m saying that all construction workers are dumb, I AM NOT!  Far from it, skilled labor is an art that is quickly diminished in our society (that’s another post conversation) and a skill set few possess.  What I am saying is that the well-educated female brain harks back to its primitive brain and makes decisions only on that.  Which is fine for about 3 months and then you have to talk, go out in public, introduce him to your friends and family…all of which require long hours of talk….and  you have 2 choices at this point:  be who you are and risk it or start chipping away at yourself to make him appear “bigger and better” to you, to him, to them…

While I’m sure both men and women do this “downplay” of themselves, women surely hold the record.  I’ve yet to meet a woman that hasn’t stepped back from who she really is to make her partner feel more secure.  Maybe it’s the “I work so I can pay” or “I’m going to sell my house so we can start new in something we’ve both built” to a long myriad of excuses for the new partner that everyone knows IS less but you love anyway.  At least temporarily.

But the grip of someone dragging you beneath what you’ve worked, sweated, and clawed so hard for will eventually wear you down.  The “but he loves me” and “damn, he’s good in bed” only lasts through the glow of a honeymoon stage of the relationship before you inadvertently notice you’re slipping.  If you’re lucky, you will have friends that will support your new love but also won’t allow you to sink below who you really are….it’s usually in this period that you realize your two worlds don’t mesh.

AS I post, a gaggle of hard hats and safety vests pull up to the restaurant and I begin to fluff my hair….purely instinct I’m convinced.