When Life is Poetry

Love is the only thing we can not control.

The Blonde is not alone!!

Aloha Hawaii

AloNo I can't go!!

I and the Commodore were planning our next trip together and I was all set for Hawaii until the dates changed and I had to do the responsible thing and turn down the trip.

I have an exam in french and there are no re-takes on the darn thing.

I guess this is where I begin to think why bother with a long distance relationship. You hardly see the person and they are wide open to find other woman to fill the absence.

Woman that have a nice bank roll either from working or from a nice divorce settlement who have the time to take off for such fun eventures will eventually get my spot.

Me, I am a struggling non-traditional pre-law student without a Gucci handbag to cry into.

If things work out with the Commodore, great..if they don't..well, let's just say, that I am very used to the 'fizzle out' theory in long distance dating.On the bright side; I do have a Louis Vuitton global shopper I found at the pawn shop to carry my woes in for awhile.

But that too will eventually find its way on Ebay to keep my monthly bills paid.

I guess I am throwing this little pity party lately because I spent way too much time looking at the meager efforts of online dating. I have passed the age of popular searches from the penis packing club, no matter how old they are and its just not a sort way to see the reality of the dating world accurately.

I really think the bar scene is coming back for the whole reason that ageism and gold digging have supplied the dating sites with negativity.

I took my profile down awhile ago and have sunk into the belief that its just going to be me from now on.

Its alright; I am looking at the blonde side.

Eventually I will be a lawyer and will have all I need to carry on a lifestyle with some pups hovering around the cougar den!!

I am too old to where a wedding dress anyway!!

Well. back to studying!!

The Blonde says helo-ha backwards!!

A bit about Girlfriends

Girlfriends can be your friend and they can be your worst enemy.

Mine usually fall under the latter.

What I once thought of as advice, now seems more adverse in commentary.

Take for instance Cinderella.

I haven't really had much contact with her in a very long time. We hooked back up after a decade of hiatus on facebook and her antics are still the same.

Really?

Have you not matured or changed direction in your friendly advice after all this time?

I post pics of my new beau, of who she knows nothing about, and she simply posts, "You can do better."

Really?

How could I possibly do better than a man that really cares for me beyond the simple fact that I am arm candy on his side.

I have been there and done that more than a few, and quite frankly, I was left in the dust when it really counted. This guy 'whom I could do better' would never leave me stranded at the beach without calling someone ASAP to get me out of the sand.

This man, 'whom I could do better' would never, not give me a gift on my birthday because I expected one. As a matter of fact, he would go out of his way to give me a gift, even if no special day occurred.

He would do it simply because he really wants to see me happy.

What kind of friend tells me, I could do better when she has no idea of the plethora of arse I have been susceptible to in the past?

She sees a pic of a handsome man on facebook with me and she reverts to the time we were in high school together.

Always finding fault with someone I really want.

Knowing she doesn't like him, means I am on the right track to being with the man I really should be with.

Thank you for all your advice but this time, I am flying solo.

And when I fly solo, I am always on the right path.

I just didn't realize it until now!!

The Blonde is steering clear of friendly advice!

Married People Do Not See

... the world like single peeps do; or maybe they do and I am just super critical and harsh of all that I see, in my particular spot of the world.

Texas.

Yeeha...not!!

When I meet friends for drinks, I like to be in the more stylish part of town. When I get dragged to the part of town that hosts rednecks and beer bellies, I am one very unhappy little blonde.

I don't want to sit and see fat married couples or fat single people, or fat anything. I don't want to see haggard faces, unstylish clothes, and general ick.

Married people don't see the crowd, in the same way, because they aren't looking for potential mates. They keep their backs to the crowd, while the singles have eyes turned out onto the scene.

And when a blonde mistakenly ventures outside her designated 8 mile radius from downtown, to the outskirts of Austin's more country-ish side, its some serious fugly on the scenery.

I am a city snob.

The country is for couples to enjoy on the weekends.

Not for stylishly single blondes to go out for happy hour at the hot new tex-mex bar.

When you move me outside of my city parameters, especially in Texas, it gets ugly.

Fashion is not a staple in this part of the world.

If I wear my Tommy Hillfiger boots in Dallas or New York, I am getting praise. If I wear them in Austin,, some chunky texas jackhole makes hooker references.

Honestly, if you have never been outside of your home state or travelled outside the country, you should just keep your little redneck trap shut and stick to commenting on football and friday nights special at your local Chilis.

I am pledging never to go outside the style safety perimeter I have zoned 'Blonde Safe' in Austin, ever again!!

The Blonde can't bear to look anymore!!

The Breaking of Falling In Love

We worry that our love is unrequited.

We worry that love will not be returned at the same rate, time, or level.

There is nothing we can do after it begins to happen.

The best we can do to protect ourselves is to halt it.

Wage war against our own heart because of fear.

Unfortunately...

We might lose the takings of that war.

Fear settles us on small battles, with others that have no interest in loving us.

So what are we to do?

Fall and worry about new wounds and scars?

or....

Shy away from that edge?

I have no answers.

I am not Tsen Su and I do not believe he, the master of war, would have any answers toward love either.

I am not a guru any more than anyone else is.

At one time, I thought it was better to fall a thousand times in love and break, and heal, and look again, than it is to live cold, stark, and sternly against the whole notion of something that is not finite.

But now...

I believe...

In the same, but...

In baby steps,

toward the edge...

and falling, and being afraid, and thinking maybe this time I won't break because someone will be there to catch my fall.

What can I say?

I am a hopeless romantic.

I do not suggest this route for all.

You must be brave and foolish and have hope beyond hope in order to survive the journey of the hopelessly incurable.

The hopeless romantic understands that pain and suffering beyond what most are willing to endure will eventually bare the fruit of the forbidden tree.

The tree that few ever get to.

Love is worth so much more than just finding comfort in another.

The Blonde will face her fears!!!

My Favorite Part of a Man

The part I dig the most about my new beau is the part of him that shows how much he really likes me.

Its amazing how much one person can make you feel so good about yourself.

I think the only man who ever did that for me was me ex but since he took my house, the part of him that was nice will never count again.

I fell settled, happy and quite frankly relieved that I do not have to partake in an all out online beau-fest search for a new BF.

I can sit back and study this semester and work on feeding my educational goals with selling my clothing wares online which is a heck of a lot mo' fun than pitching one's self on a dating site to every Tom, Dick, and, Harry, well, let's face it, a lot more dicks than Toms and Harrys.

The Blonde is happy with all of it!!

Damn the Buttery Soft Leather Boot

Another over-the-knee boot pulled at my heart strings and my wallet. I had to have the Steve Madden Sabra boot.

I love them and I don't care if this puts me behind the black line.

Every once in a while some garment or shoe or boot will catch my fancy and after being so frugal year round, I just have to bust out that carde de credite and splurge on myself.

After all, I deserve them.

And my man deserves to see me in them.

Speaking of the new man...We had a blast in Aspen and although with each new guy, my guardrail is a little higher, this one seems to be the best of the lot.

I have to admit I am inching into better and better territory with every new man I score.

BUT

and that's a big but...

its still new and a hidden freak or foe may come out eventually.

I will give it another 3 months and if its still golden, I will still be cautious.

I am not letting my guard down for a second.

These days the only thing I can count on are my boots and they are made for walking out of anything and anyone at anytime.

The Blonde is putting her foot down!!

Aspen 2011

The Blonde loves to play ski bunny!!

New Year, New Ground 2011

Its the New year and a whole slew of new men to accomplish.

But I am looking for a particular man this time and the run of the mill man won't do.

I want the right age, the right look, the right lifestyle. 'Right' meaning that someone who will compliment me, be compatible with my lifestyle.


I am not going for men over a certain age. Quite frankly, men aren't holding up like Paul Newman did.
Seriously, look at the Baldwin band, Brad Pitt looks haggard from Jolie fatigue, and Johnyy Depp brings a whole new NO to face lifts.

Honestly, its gut galore on anyone over 50. No wonder women start looking at the wallet. The pudgier the wallet, the more slender the man may appear.

I guess its like the man version of getting boob implants. Women know their ass is spreading a little each year so to offset the poundage, they get bigger breasts to stay in proportion.

Men's guts get bigger every year and to offset there belly pudge, an even pudgier bank role will make their buddha glory seem slimmer.


I am also shaking off my skirt hem, the plethora of non-commital long distance booty calls I have cherished in the past. I have a law degree to obtain and due to a few out of town visits, my GPA grossed only a 3 .0 for the semester.

I can't have that.

So this spring semester, I am bringing on a mileage curfew. Only those willing to set up shop in Austin and visit me in Austin, will be granted face time and with any luck...new booty time with a committed minded soul.


The Blonde has limited hunting ground this year!!

HAPPY F$#@&**N NEW YEARS!!

Party until your panties drop but don't take that drink on the road.


The life you save might be a Blondes.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

The Pretty Cookies

...are not for me!!


Nope!

Treated like the unwanted stepchild left over from a second marriage, I was told to eat only the horribly disfigured mutant cookies.

It would be one thing if the cookies were for guests or for presents but nope, they are just there to look pretty in the cookie jar.

Eventually the cookie jar will disappear as my Mother systematically tries to hide the pretty cookies still assuming we fall for her holiday scams.

When asked where the pretty cookies went...she will simply say that they are for freinds and she needs to pack them and mail them.

Of course the undisclosed location is for their safety...right!!

The pretty cookies will never get mailed.

They will however show up in cars and bedrooms as little crumbs of there former cookie self.

I am so used to the Christmas scam that I didn't even blink an eye when I asked for a gingerbread house which disappeared right after she gave me a laundry list of fake people she is giving them too.

I have know idea where the ginger houses disappeared too but seeing as they will be difficult for Mo' to consume the entire gingerbread hood before spring....


...the ant trail will eventually clue me in after the turn of the New Year!!



The Blonde is keeping with tradition!!

What Flatulence!!

I went to Neiman Marcus to pick out some christmas favors and low and behold did to my wandering nose appear?

Making my eyes water up as if they caught winter wonderdust?

Someone ripped a huge one in between the glass entry way of the store letting the sun bake in and heat the odor to a remarkably potent stench.

Open the second glass doors and the waft of perfume mixed with the fartabulous that almost brought me to my knees!!

What the F?

For fart that is..

What kind of jack arse does this sort of thing?

I can only think of one and duh, wouldn;t you know..it would be someone I went out with.

We went to the Celtics / Lakers game and in the elevator crammed full of body heat, he rips a silencer.

I knew it was him even if his face stayed plain as day. After all, he was my date.

Who else would be such a putz?

Anyhoo,

I left Neimans unable to take the vibrant mix of holiday arse spirits.


The Blonde hopes this season you keep your hot air to yourself!!!