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What would I do without my Flower – she IM’s me this about that, “There is an old Russian saying, the first pancake is always lumpy.”

I just took Loca to the Bonnabel boat launch for her kennel pick up. She’s on her way to the pokey and I miss the bundle of mess already.

A friend of mine just had an intense, short-lived, love affair. I love this – on the second night of sleeping together, she rolls over and says sweetly, “How’d you sleep, honey?” – the lover responds dreamily, “I couldn’t sleep, I was staring at you all night.” Ahhh. You’ve got to love that one.

Reminds me of a text message I got two years ago – “Looking forward to pillow talk” – Now, that is hot!

A week later, lover now loser won’t return my friend’s calls or emails.

Whatyagonnado?

A friend says why do you listen to what all these people tell you? I accept dating advice from women who are chronically single. And I say, I invite it by being a public person. If I kept all my life questions to myself then no one would know what buttons to push with me – but instead I’m like a whack a mole, you might not know what hole or issue is going to pop up and pop my head out, but you can damn sure count on getting a whack in if you listen long enough.

The truth about dating, or my experience is this, everyone has a strategy and here’s mine – you see something you like, go for the gusto. Gomez says if a girl does something, and the guy doesn’t like it, then he’s not into her. But the girl could do the same thing and another guy likes it, and it’s not cause this guy necessarily likes “it”, it’s that he likes “her.” I buy that.

I also buy that people have unwritten expectations that they heap onto others. My largest expectation is I expect you to be true to your feelings – don’t come on like a house on fire and then evaporate like smoke – that ain’t right. Although rumor has it this shit goes down all the time.

“The more successful we are, the more American troops can return home.”
PRESIDENT BUSH, on Iraq.

Moosey showed up last night on the porch when we returned and were sitting around having a nightcap. Hmm. He has a sixth sense, that one.

There was something in the air last night that made it kind of one of those full tilt boogie nights where everything is hilarious and the music feels so good you just want to move your whole body. Gal Holiday and her Honky Tonk Review were at the dba and we danced and had a blast. Watch out.

At Bacchanal the other night, the guy at the table was very interested in the fact that I’m a writer. He looked at me with those almost mesmerizing eyes and said, “What do you write?”

And I tried to meet his gaze when I replied, “Mostly email.”

I had dinner with my mother last night and she asked me about the mesmerizer – I said, I don’t know what is up with the mesmerizer. He’s a nice guy (actually I think I said hot guy) with no time and I’m a nice girl with even less time. And my mother said, “He’s not into you, honey. Next.”

Harsh judgment by one’s own mother.

Then I speak with Steve a little later and he says he kind of agrees with my mother. (That’s a first.) Says I should have a talk with Mr. Mesmerizer. A talk about what? I ask. I don’t want to talk – actions are the best interpreter of thoughts – I saw that on some parochial school marquee today and have co-opted it for my purposes here – if Mr. Mesmerizer is interested, he’ll call, if he isn’t, he won’t. If the tables were turned and he wanted to talk, I’d say, about what? Who are you? I don’t know you.

False intimacy invites trust that is premature. Trust that he’ll want to call you the next day.

Whatyagonnado?

I want a lover with a fearless heart.

We are all actors fretting and strutting across the stage – some of us strut more naked than others – and perhaps we’re the ones who take the most POW BAM WHAM, since we simply offer up so much more of ourselves than the average bear.

But nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Indeed.