50 Happy Things: Bloggers Unite in Flood of Gratitude

I’ve been seeing the happiness and gratitude posted all over the blog world today and thought, what the hell, I have a few things to be grateful for and things that have made me happy this year.

Here goes!!

  1. My kid.  She’s the very best of me.  I am more proud of her than anything else I’ve ever done.
  2. My bonus kid.  She’s 20, lost her mom last year.  She’s going to school full time and working part time.
  3. My family.  I love them all (most of the time)
  4. The fact that I haven’t told my job to go to hell.  Yay me!
  5. Orgasms.  Yep they make me happy.  Really, this could be every year though.
  6. My new friends.  M and K.  Different corners of the US and both wonderful new friends!
  7. Dr. Pepper
  8. Starbucks Iced Venti Tuxedo with four pumps of each syrup, extra ice and no whipped cream.
  9. People that can spell and use correct grammar.
  10. My new boots.
  11. E.  He makes me grin from ear to ear.
  12. My friendship with my ex-husband.  Unnatural maybe, but it works for us.
  13. The Sacramento Kings, when they win.
  14. The Oakland Raiders, when they win.
  15. Chipper Jones.  He tweeted me on my 40th Birthday.  I will NEVER forget this moment.
  16. Luke Bryan pit passes.  Luke Bryan all the time, but pit passes this year.
  17. Google.
  18. The fact that my daughter gets a discount on clothes at her job.
  19. My hair.
  20. The strangers that smile or say hello on a daily basis.
  21. Ladybugs.
  22. Facebook.  Most days.
  23. My dog.  He’s a pain in the ass, but so very loyal.
  24. My cell phone.
  25. The fact that I have smallish feet.
  26. Christmas lights.  Because why wouldn’t these make anyone happy?
  27. Orgasms.  Oh wait, I already put this on the list.  But I’m pretty sure they deserve two spots.
  28. Memories with my grandparents.
  29. The TV show Friends.
  30. Marlboro Lights.  Stop judging.
  31. Oh, I almost forgot tequila.  I’m VERY grateful for tequila.
  32. My new found ability to walk away from those who are hurtful and toxic.  This is a new skill for me.
  33. My direct supervisor.  As much as I hate my corporate company, my boss is the best.  And easy on the eyes.
  34. Nail salons and pedicures.
  35. Tweezers.  Because let’s face it, chin hairs suck as a woman.
  36. Bubble baths.
  37. Bubble baths with a partner.
  38. My ability to make people smile.
  39. People who hold the door open for others.
  40. On the flip side, those who say “thank you” when you hold the door for them.
  41. Candy Crush Soda Saga.  Again, stop judging.
  42. Colorful post it notes.
  43. My cowboy boots.  All of them.
  44. I love the fact that I am learning to love myself again.
  45. This blog.  Not because it matters to anyone but me, but I’ve met some great people on this blog.
  46. Eyeliner.
  47. Hot showers on a cold morning.  Except getting out.  That’s not so fun.
  48. My trip to Disneyland with my kid in the fall.  Best adventure we’ve had, just the two of us.
  49. Candy Cane Hershey’s Kisses.
  50. Did I mention orgasms?


Now you go!

If you’d like to join in, here’s how it works: set a timer for 10 minutes; timing this is critical. Once you start the timer, start your list (the timer doesn’t matter for filling in the instructions, intro, etc). The goal is to write 50 things that made you happy in 2015, or 50 thing that you feel grateful for. The idea is to not think too hard; write what comes to mind in the time allotted. When the timer’s done, stop writing. If you haven’t written 50 things, that’s ok. If you have more than 50 things and still have time, keep writing; you can’t feel too happy or too grateful!

When I finished my list, I took a few extra minutes to add links and photos.

To join us for this project: 1) Write your post and publish it (please copy and paste the instructions from this post, into yours). Click on the link below to join the party. 

Share your happy thoughts, your gratitude; help us flood the blogosphere with both!


Linkey thing here: http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=592585


Well, Shit.

That’s really all.

Nothing I can write about right now, because I’m not sure how this story ends, but I’m beginning to think tonight has had behaviors a full moon, on a Friday the 13th in which someone broke a mirror, spilled salt and walked under an open ladder.

Go ahead and pet the black cat as it crosses your path.  Not much more damage can be done.


Look At Me, Growing Up and Shit.

I have been through a lot of shit in my life.  Not as much as some and more than others.  I probably rank about a 6 on the 1-10 shit meter.

I survived heart surgery as a child.

I survived a domestically violent relationship.  WHILE PREGNANT.

I survived being a single mom at the age of 19.

I survived a failed marriage and again, kept raising my kid alone.

And if you can imagine, I even survived showing up to work in one navy blue and one black shoe one day.

I’m just kidding about that.  I went home and changed my shoes.

One of the things that hasn’t changed through the years, is my ability to be empathetic.  I care about others.  Strangers and friends and family.


We have a transgender at our work.  I had worked with him for 10 years prior to finding out that he felt like a woman, trapped in the wrong body.  I struggle with using correct pronouns, I struggle with the bathroom use situation and I definitely don’t understand what is going on, but I definitely have empathy.  I can’t imagine it’s an easy situation now, let alone, growing up feeling like you didn’t fit in anywhere.

I think at some point, we are all uncomfortable in our own skin, for a variety of reasons.  The reasons don’t necessarily matter. 

So, as I have talked about on this blog, I have been dating E for almost four months now.  He has been dating other people, including his roommate, the entire time.  I knew about it upfront and decided to try to be ok with it.

There was a connection between him and I that was undeniable.  I can’t put it into words, so please, just trust me on this.

Slowly, over the last few months, our feelings grew for each other and the other women he was dating dwindled.  It is now down to her and I.

Except she’s fucking crazy.

I believe wholeheartedly that she moved in to his house, as a ‘roommate’, to try and woo him.  She thought making him dinner, doing his laundry and taking care of him, would make him want to be with her, forever.  Now, E does not agree with me on this, but women are women.  I get it.

Excuse me for using the word “woo”.  I realize it isn’t 1937 any more and people probably don’t “woo” each other.

She says she has always been ok with him dating others.  Which she might be.  I don’t know, I’m not in her head.  However, once he started to have feelings for me, she started panicking.

I try to be respectful when I know they are having their date night.  It kills me, but every Saturday night, I leave him alone.  Unless I hear from him.  I find other things to do and occupy my time as best I can.  I’m not really respecting her, but I’m respecting him.

She, on the other hand isn’t so respectful.  We had the issue with her stalking my Facebook and then texting him to have him ask me to block her.  WHILE HE WAS WITH ME.  Oh yeah, and not only with me, we were at my parents house for dinner and Yahtzee.

She has a habit of doing this.  Every time he is with me, she attempts to start a fight with him that day or texts him shitty things while he is with me.  She thinks it is going to ruin his time with me, it doesn’t.  Frankly, it just makes him appreciate me more.

But here is where I feel like my maturity and empathy are hitting a high.

A friend gave me two tickets and a parking pass to the Oakland Raiders game on Sunday.  I asked E to join me and of course he did because it’s an NFL game.  He had never been to one NFL game in his life.

She got pissed, before we even left because she wanted to take him to his first NFL game.  Get the fuck over it.  You should have gotten tickets then. 

When we got to Oakland, he was almost in awe.  We took a few pics together and of the playing field.  We shared a soda, laughed and snuck a few kisses in.  I asked him if it was ok for me to tag him in Oakland with me, and a post a pic on his Facebook (because I’m fucking courteous) and of course he said yes.  So I did.

Well…at precisely the same moment, he was tagging ME in Oakland and posting a pic of us together.  It was at this very moment, I knew the shit was going to hit the fan. 

Here is a quick series of events, from this moment on.  The spanned about 4 hours.

She commented on his post.  I’m jealous!  Hope you have a blast!

She texted him.  We need to talk when you get home.

He asked what she needed.  She pulled the I don’t want to talk about it over text, we’ll just talk tomorrow when you get home.  So fucking passive aggressive.

He got fed up with it and turned his phone off.

All the while, I’m reminding him not to let her or anyone ruin our day together.

We stopped and had dinner and played some arcade games together.   We had a wonderful day and evening.

When we got back to my house, he turned his phone back on and read all her messages.  Apparently, the biggest issue she had was that HE had tagged me in Oakland and never tagged her anywhere.  I forgot she was six. 

During all this nonsense, my daughter commented on his post on Facebook and put a few smiley faces with hearts as the eyes.  She likes E.  She’s glad I’m happy.

I understand why the roommate is unhappy.  I understand why her feelings are hurt.  She sees the man she loves, falling in love with someone else.  AND she sees it every day.  He talks about me.  He is happy with me.

I do feel empathy for her.  She’s a 46 year old woman, she’s been divorced twice and finally met a nice guy.  A guy who treats people like they should be treated.  A man who is one of the best men I know.

I bounce back and forth between feeling guilty for her pain and judging her for acting like a child.

BUT, just because I understand her feelings, doesn’t mean I condone her behavior.  She finally blocked me and my kid from Facebook.  Now I don’t have to see her shit and she doesn’t have to see mine.

I think she is acting like a child.  My mom is concerned that she may be a stalker and is worried for my safety.

I don’t know what will happen.

I’m happy to be falling in love with a man, who is falling in love with me too.

I’m terrified that her behavior is some how going to ruin things between him and I.


Faking It


Attention Women: We need to quit faking it.  For our benefit and theirs.

Attention Men: We fake it.  You usually aren’t that good.

I feel it is pretty safe and necessary for me to write this post.  At this point in my life, I am having the best sex of my entire life.  I have not had to fake it one time with E.  Thank goodness!

Women fake orgasms for two main reasons.

  • To make men happy.
  • To make the sex end.

We’ve all be there.

This guy is amazing.  He’s so sweet to me and so good to me.  He’s trying SO hard in bed.  I want him to be happy and think he’s doing a good job.  It does feel good, so I’ll fake it this time, and I’m SURE next time will end better. 

This is the worst sex of my life!  This guy couldn’t find my G-Spot if I drew him a fucking map!  Oh hell, just fake it, give him something to feel good about and get it over with!

Here are the problems with women faking it: We get nothing out of it and it inflates men’s egos.

Women will walk away from a faked orgasm and think When can I fit in playing with myself today?  At least I can make myself cum. 

Men will walk away from a faked orgasm and think Wow!  I rocked her fucking world!  I must be the James Bond of sex! 

Giving men the false sense of accomplishment, not only hurts us, it hurts all future partners.   They go into future sexual endeavors with the head up high and the chest puffed up.  Then the cycle repeats itself.

I imagine this is how the scenario goes.

He is in bed with his future sex partner.  He is doing everything wrong.  Moving left when he should be moving right.  Licking like a mad man, when he should be nibbling.  Not using enough pressure or worse, using too much pressure.  His flavor of the moment is thinking Oh my God, I wish the bitch before me wouldn’t have faked it!  Now I have to.  Then she will start moaning, arching her back and moving her hips to make the man believe she is cumming.

Repeat the process.

It’s not good.  For anyone.

I have thought to myself, for years, that I wouldn’t fake it anymore.  That I would try to keep things honest for my man and all future partners.  But frankly, it just isn’t that easy.

Now, on the flip side, if your man gives you legitimate orgasms on a regular basis and one night, you just aren’t feeling it, fake that shit!

Just a little service announcement from me.

Women, don’t fake it if you can help it.  You are just hurting future partners.

Men, you won’t know we are faking it.  But chances are, someone along your lifetime of partners probably has.