The List

I bought the most adorable new dress today, and I put it on to write this post because I feel meaner when I know I look hot. It takes a sturdy mean streak to reduce all the major (and minor) relationships in your life to a list of nicknames and snarky observations. And Kate Nash. It also takes Kate Nash. If you haven’t heard Foundations, put it on now. Here’s the link to the music video. Oops, yeah, there’s an ad first. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.

Ready? OK….


Jared – The First Kiss. My total wet dream in high school…senior when I was a freshman, singer, varsity wrestler, class clown, drool-worthy, everyone’s friend and my boyfriend after I carefully orchestrated our introduction and then pursued him until he fell for me and asked to senior prom making me the envy of all of my prettier friends who didn’t have a date.

Miles – The College Boyfriend turned Buddhist monk. No shit… he took a vow of celibacy shortly after we broke up. Hugely sensual jazz musician with Beattles hair and crushingly bad breath. An inexcusably bad kisser who did not improve despite first tactful then increasingly desperate “coaching”.

Antonio – The First Lover. A breathtakingly gorgeous illegal immigrant from Mexico who I hired to work on a farm that I managed for (blissfully) absentee owners. Our secret relationship lasted over two years and was punctuated by spectacular screaming fights in Spanish, fits of guilt, a pregnancy scare, multiple break-ups, and lots of really amazing sex. I still can’t hear Nos Estorbo La Ropa by Vicente Fernandez without getting wet. Yeah, the title is “We took off our clothes” in English. Not subtle. We were pretty sure we were the first people ever to discover sex, and it was the coolest thing ever.

MiltonThe Fetish. I met Mil at a time when I really needed a best friend. He was the full nerd package: computer geek, star trek, fantasy/sci-fi, video games, Anime, the works. Of course he wore glasses and had pasty pale skin and a gimpy leg. He was also the best listener I have ever had the privilege to know. He would gaze into your eyes and actively suck the information out of you. Of anyone I’ve ever dated, Mil really knew me to the depths of my soul. The good, the bad, the ugly. And he worshiped me. I doubt I will ever be lucky enough to experience this type of deep understanding, acceptance, and loving again in my life. So what was the hitch? Well, I’m glad you asked. After all, he was The Fetish.

JoseThe Bruiser. Jose was unsuitable from the word go, except that he was Panamanian (I have a weak spot–yup, the spot between my legs–for Latin men). And it didn’t hurt that he is an Army Captain (similar weak spot for men in uniform) and stunningly handsome and could pick me up and carry me around (I’m 5’11” and not a stick, so that’s rare!). I was prepared to overlook the fact that we had no interests in common, that he was divorced with an 8 year old son, that he was tremendously self-centered, that he was not kind, and that he had no interest in who I was as a person, all for the sake of overwhelming physical attraction. But fairly quickly I was slapped in the face by something I couldn’t ignore. His hand.

GuyThe Buddy. I met Guy the week I broke up with Jose, desperate to have a good experience following that disaster. Guy was smart, funny as hell, and totally into me. One problem? I was not into him, except as a friend. Instead I fell for….

ChrisThe Unattainable. For three short weeks I dated Chris with his departure looming over us like a guillotine. We didn’t talk much, or rather, he didn’t. I couldn’t seem to shut up. I wanted to explain everything, I wanted him to know me, because if he knew me, he couldn’t possibly not want to be with me, right? RIGHT? Wrong. And my heart continued beating, but with a little bruise in it now. Or maybe my rib cage shrunk a bit, because it hurts to breathe when I think of him, too. Which is pretty much all the time. Still.

AdamThe Baptist. I’m still shaking my head in amazement over this one. Of course, I’m still sleeping with him, too. Apparently it’s not a sin to be really good in bed.

The One-Date Wonders – These guys will get cameo profiles, either because they have funny stories, or I learned something interesting from them, or because they did something really obnoxious that could serve as a cautionary tale for our male readers who may wish to take notes. Start with this one: If you’re married, you’re not fucking single.


Shit, that’s a short list. 

Hmm, I need to do something about that.

~ Sex Kitten (with Claws)