The text came through and it said, “my copy has arrived.”

The words in and of themselves, and perhaps even put together don’t seem that important. Unless of course it’s a copy of a birth certificate for your newborn baby, a copy of the escrow documents on your first house, a copy of the divorce settlement or… your Memoir being delivered to the man you wrote about.

Suddenly I realized I had written about my life, in painstaking detail, and suddenly I began to feel exposed.

While I share a lot of information with the world, the things that affect me most deeply have always stayed very close to my heart, and suddenly I realized that all those things that I’d chosen to protect over the years were available…on Amazon.com. I felt like I’d taken a scalpel, cut out my heart, sprinkled a little bit of my soul on it and uploaded it to YouTube. Why did I do this?

Because somehow if I put my thoughts on p ... Read More »

Therapy Sessions of an Online Dating Addict: Failed The Myers Briggs

Me: I found the perfect match.com profile.

Therapist: Perfect is a strong word.

Me: No, it was absolutely perfect. He’s educated, works as a firefighter, fairly witty, photos looks excellent, owns his house so he understands commitment, my age…
So I reached out to him, sent him a wink, he winked back.

Therapist: A wink is a good thing right?

Me: Yea, in match.com land it means “I’m interested.”

Therapist: Got it.

Me: So after he winked back, he mentioned that we share a love of golf, and that we should meet up at the driving range…

Therapist: Wow, I like this one already!

Me: Then he adds, but before that I would like you to fill out this questionnaire.

... Read More »

Me: He was super cute…and with a girl.

Therapist: So you didn’t meet this one online?

Me: Nope, it was after the Padres game, a big group of us went to celebrate the win at the top of Altitude in downtown, since winning is so rare.

Therapist: (chuckling) How did you approach?

Me: I surveyed the situation throughout the evening, he was super tall, very handsome, blonde hair, green eyes, pretty well built. My guess was military because his hair had that look to it.

Therapist: Stereotyping, be careful.

Me: So just as my group of friends is about to leave I just walked right up to him and said, “Is this your girlfriend?”

Therapist: Smooth move.

Me: He said “Hi, what ... Read More »

A little salt on the deepest cut stings the most...

One day I stood with my feet deep in the sand, the ocean waves lapped over my ankles, and quickly, with each receding wave, my feet sank deeper; before I knew it, the tide had risen.

I was surrounded by water. I was standing in the middle of the ferocious Pacific ocean. Rather than turning to run, I stood still. I was almost calmed by the way the water rolled in, and the sky got dark. Stars peppered the ceiling above my head and somewhere amongst my fear I felt safe.

The sand became a mold of my feet and suddenly it was soothing to watch the wild of the ocean all around me and know that the water would not get higher, I would not sink further. So I stood still.

Then it all changed. I felt a current that sent a warning all the way up my legs and landed somewhere between my eye lashes and my gut, and I was afraid.

My ... Read More »

Me: I think I’ve been going on too many dates.

Therapist: Right, addiction is a tough thing to break, that’s why we spend this hour each week talking…What makes you come to this realization?

Me: Well, I said from the beginning this was a numbers game.

Therapist: To a certain extent, yes…we know though that you take this whole plethora of available candidates to the extreme.

Me: Well, last week the girls and I went to Taco Tuesday Girl’s Night Out at our usual bar.

Therapist: Ahh yes, Girl’s Night…don’t you usually invite a potential match.com date?

Me: Yes, I usually invite someone to stop in and meet the girls if I feel he’s got good potential.

Therapist: Ok, so tell me about Taco Tuesday.

Me: So I’d gone to lunch with this guy Patrick and I thought he was a potential for ... Read More »

Everything I’ve ever worked for is gone…

I watched the small white digital numbers switch from 11:59 to 12:00, another new day has arrived that I’m not sure I’m ready to welcome.

Optimism abounds in my life, I find the positive in all the negatives, I don’t dwell on the lows and I bounce back quickly from the blows. I’ve surrounded myself with people whose eyes express love and hope. Today, at 12:01 even those people whisper these words…

Everything I’ve ever worked for is gone.

Day in and day out I offer up words of encouragement having come from the very bottom (after all that’s what the whole novel is about, surviving that fall, not once but twice).

And I realize, I believe my own words each time they escape my mouth. But I’m saddened…I’m saddened to watch one by one as my friends and my family lose it all. A deeper part of me knows that I’m better positioned than ... Read More »

Me:  So, here I am floating on a daisy shaped raft in the pool of a friend’s house, chatting with her in that way two people chat when they are both randomly drifting across the water, soaking up the sun, enjoying life and the weather. So naturally, in this relaxed state of self indulgence the topic of my online dating experiences came up. I mentioned to her as I dipped one toe off the edge of the raft into the chilly water and dribbled the sprinkles across my sun stained legs that it is nearly impossible on a first date to really get to know someone without coming across as prying, or being overly anxious to get to the point. The point being, are you and I really going to make beyond the first ‘online’ date? This means I’ve met up with you at an incredibly public place, where the price point of anything & Read More »

I’ve never been the kind of girl who is the other woman, that is…until now.

No lady ever walks into a relationship and says; sign me up to be the one he runs to. When I first learned the truth my natural reaction was to run, but in the moment where I turned on my heel and spun, I asked myself, am I really ‘the other woman’ or am I ‘the woman?’

What felt like buckets of blood poured out of her body as she clutched her lower abdomen and raced to the bathroom in the early hours of the weekday morning. She spun around before shoving open the bathroom door and saw the trail of black tar behind her. 

<div styl Read More »