Oops, I did it again - Dating rule #1

This is probably the first and last time you will ever see me quote a Britney Spears song. It's fitting because I did do it again.

Oops.

And to make it worse, I promised myself I wouldn't. And even more humiliating, I cried in a bar in front of my friends about it.

I admit it was the alcohol that let the tears loose. Shots to be exact. The very shots I don't do. But it was my pre-birthday birthday party. And I love tequila.

So what triggered it all was 6'4" dude I wrote about the other day. We started a little thing. No, it wasn't a relationship, but just a fooling around thing, I suppose. We ended up in the same group at the pub then at a dueling piano bar on my birthday eve. I'm a pretty touchy person already. I hug and kiss all of my friends. But add some alcohol and I'm even more affectionate. I walked up to him at the piano bar and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

He pushed me away. Then, even through the alcohol haze, I heard him say something about his privacy.

That's when I came unhinged.

Privacy my ass! There's nothing about me that would give cause to be embarrassed or ashamed to be associated with me. Some would even go so far as to say I'm fabulous. Besides, this is the guy I've played "Never Have I Ever" with. The one who's shared his sexual escapades and short comings over drinks on the pub patio with near strangers. This is the man who admitted he doesn't like giving head. This is the man who told me many graphic details about the last girl the went out with - plus a few others.

So were they private too or is that just unique to me?

My new dating rule #1 is very simple. If he's not man enough to kiss me in front of friends then he's not man enough to have sex with me. Ever. Why? Because if I can't kiss the man who was inside me a few days before then he can just fuck off. Then he had the nerve to show up for my birthday gathering. Yes, he was so private I hardly noticed he was there.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

P.S. For such a tall man, he has a small cock.

Sober Saturday for the luckiest single girl on the planet

Today's a day for water. H2O. That's all. Okay, maybe with a lemon. Yesterday was my birthday and I celebrated big two nights in a row.

I know, it's just a birthday. We all have one once a year. This one isn't even a significant number. But this birthday is significant. It's a re-birth. Part of my fresh start.

So why is it a dry day for this single girl? I drank tequila shots. And birthday cake shots and a vodka-butterscotch Schnapps shot and a vodka tonic and wine.

Over the last two nights, I broke a few rules. I drank shots and cried in public over a guy and woke up in a bed that was not my own this morning. I'll write more about these juicy little topics soon. Promise.

I also spent my birthday night with some of the world's most amazing people. My dearest friends (except for the few who are out of town). Most of these fabulous people have been by my side through the whole bad marriage and divorce, and now they're stuck with a neurotic single girl. And they still love me, and I love them.

We celebrated my birthday and we celebrated them.

Most of the people there didn't know each other before last night. By the end of the evening, they were all friends. They also broke the rules and brought gifts even though I asked them not to. That's when I realized anyone who's my good friend doesn't like to follow rules. Everyone in the group is friendly, fun, happy and never judges. But we all draw outside the lines from time to time. That's what makes us who we are.

After dinner, a larger group of friends gathered at the pub. The pub is where the shots always start. And after the post-after party is when my friend tucked me safely into his guest bedroom where I woke up this morning very thirsty and still wearing my magical vintage dress.

Tonight, I'm cooking the best parts of Christmas dinner and preparing for the dinner party my friend and I are hosting here tomorrow. In a minute, I'm going to sip club soda at a friend's going away party at the bar down the road.

And I'm happier than I've been in a long time.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

P.S. I just remembered a few birthday presents still under my Christmas tree. I can't believe I forgot to open them yesterday!

This single girl's had a rough Boxing Day

I'm a pretty tough girl, but sometimes a day just goes to shit. Today was one of those days.

I woke up hacking up a lung - so much it scared Lucy. I felt well enough to give myself a pedi and get myself cleaned up to venture out to buy cough meds.

Yesterday's white Christmas was magical, but it left patches of ice in really bad places - like on the other side of the door to my parking garage. Bundled up in my warmest coat and Uggs, I took baby steps down the ADA compliant ice-covered concrete ramp. Then bang! (Yes, that's solid ice.)

"Fuck!"

I'm glad no one was there to hear me - or see me on my ass. My elbow caught me but the fall jammed my shoulder and the rest of me so bad I ache. Now I know how Lucy must've felt after her fall from my second floor.

I talked myself into getting up just to find my car surrounded by ice. I mean ice rink ice. Since the snow was melting off the rooftops I didn't understand how all of the ice could collect between my car and me. I almost gave up and went back inside. But I have to be fabulous for my birthday dinner party Friday and the holiday dinner my good friend and I are hosting for our neighborhood friends on Sunday. And I dare anything to make me feel bad for New Years Eve.

This is supposed to be my week off. Days to have fun and do what I want to do, which usually isn't curling up and watching movies and sleeping the day away.

Now, two boxes of Puffs with lotion later, I'm waiting for the meds to work. I'm snuggled on the sofa with Lucy watching a young boy hug a snowman - his dead dad Jack Frost. And it's not the movie that's making my nose and eyes drip constantly. The pain reliever and heating pad are helping my shoulder a little.

This is one of the days it's nice to have a partner to take care of you, bring hot tea and blankets. And still care about you even though your nose is redder than Rudolph's.

That'll teach me to wear heels next time like i usually do. And I have a nice pedi for the next time I do.

Love to the single girls,

Addison

Glad to not have a mother-in-law today

My heart goes out to everyone who had to spend Christmas with the in laws - particularly the ones you don't like.

Today I was glad to not have in laws. The last Christmas day I had to spend with my mother-in-law was one for the book of bad Christmases. She didn't even like Christmas, she just wanted people to come over and humor her. The only decoration was lights on her silk ficus tree and the only warmth in her house was the flame from the glittery candles.

Instead of taking me up on my offer to bring a ham, veggies or just about anything, she told me to bring a salad. That's all. Against her wishes, I brought bread too since we can never consume too many carbs on Christmas. The funny thing was, the other three guests brought salad. So salad was all we had to accompany the frozen Stouffer's enchiladas and lasagna she served. For Christmas dinner. Oh, except for the bread I brought (and got scolded for bringing because she doesn't eat bread). The bread basket was empty by the end of the meal.
No judgment on Stouffer's frozen entrees. It's just not what I would choose for Christmas dinner. I guess people needed to fill up on bread and the salad bar to make up for the lack of anything else good to eat.

We could never visit the right length of time for her liking or please her with the right gift. The gift part was always amusing to me since her gift to me typically still had the free "gift with purchase" sticker on it.

Since my ex was getting more and more like his mother, I'm glad to spend my first Christmas as a single girl in a very long time. And it was a white one.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

A single girl's Christmas list

10. At least one beautiful, white powdery snow so all of the neighborhood can gather around the fireplace at the pub and waste the day away.

9.  The end of the "fiscal cliff" before we all jump off it.

8.  A massive sense of humor to survive this dating thing.

7.  Well wishes to all of my new neighborhood friends who have recently or are soon moving away to new adventures, and new, fun people to try to fill their shoes.

6.  More parties and good times at them.

5.  Jobs and the motivation to find them for my unemployed single friends.

4.  The discipline and creativity to finish my novel.

3.  More honesty and sincerity between friends and lovers.

2.  Good health and happiness for my good friends and family. May their biggest dreams come true.

1.  A lot less chaos and craziness in the world.

Merry Christmas and love to the single girls,
Addison

Single girl desperation

Last night, a fellow single girl did something interesting.

It was at a smallish party, and I kept noticing one of the girls getting very cozy with one of the guys. He wasn't getting terribly cozy back though. They had never been a couple before. In fact, I don't recall ever seeing either of them with a date. It's pretty widely known that the guy hasn't been with a girl in ages. He's in his early twenties, smart, fun and would be a great catch for someone. But he doesn't want to put out the effort. That can  be a deal breaker.

The girl is older, and she didn't hesitate to announce last night that she hasn't had sex in months. According to her, she's been keeping Energizer in business, and she's the one I mentioned in my post "Oral sex" who likes to taste herself. If she wanted sex as bad as she did last night, I find it difficult to believe that she hasn't had any. Around here, a decent looking girl almost has to beat the guys off. They're everywhere and never shy.

He was sitting on the sofa, and she was on the floor between his legs and facing him. They were like this a long time. At one point, I thought she was giving him a blow job. Right in the middle of the party. I don't think she was, but he looked a little freaked out.

"What's up with them?" I asked the hostess when we slipped into the kitchen for refills.

"Neither of them have been laid in a long time," she answered.

Yeah, okay, but that doesn't mean those two have to hook up. She was desperate. And obvious. And he looked uncomfortable.

I gulped. "But it seems so forced."

She agreed. Then we all left them alone in the hostess' apartment when we moved the rest of the party to the bar. I'm not sure what happened afterwards, but whatever it was or wasn't, I hope they parted ways happy. There's nothing worse than waking up the next morning with regrets.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

How tall is too tall?

Okay, he's 6'4" and I'm 5'3". Almost. Is that too much of a height difference?

I have to confess it was a little awkward the first time I kissed him while I wasn't wearing shoes. It was before he left the other morning and I felt like a little girl. I was vulnerable.

It reminded me why I always wear heels.

Is someone ever too tall? Or are they ever too short, depending on your perspective? A hug or kiss is a little awkward with the 13 inch difference. But it's more like 9 or 10 inches with shoes - a little closer to even. It's kind of sexy to look up at his smile.

In bed, there's a lot of him. He's slender but there are arms and legs everywhere. The extra height works so far, and it's more for me to wrap around.

Not many people realize how short I really am. There are many things I'll reveal before that. One friend laughed and asked me if I moved in heels. Big guys always enjoy picking me up and giving me the big bear hugs since I'm small. I'll never grow any taller, so perhaps I should work on coming to terms with it in 2013. But I do love my heels.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Oral sex

Now that I have your attention, I have one question. Do you love it or hate it?

Last night in the pub, we had one of those random conversations on the topic. There were three girls and two guys, and one of the guys brought it up - after the conversation about body hair.

"I don't like doing it, but I do it anyway," he said. "It's not like it tastes like strawberries and cream."

The other guy was covering his face as his friend talked. "I love it," he said.

Really? "And does any part of any body taste like strawberries and cream?" I asked.

He changed his answer to peaches and cream and I rolled my eyes.

A lot of people seem to just do it because they have to. They don't love it or hate it. I believe it's a cop out answer. You should either do it because you enjoy it - for you and your partner - or don't do it at all. I would never want someone doing something so intimate they didn't want to do.

I have to confess. I grew to hate it with my ex. He was such an ass about it. I never did it good enough or long enough or exactly the way he liked it. With other people, it's fabulous. Then with me, it felt like a power drill. He thought he was the best in the world. 

But even more interesting, I brought up the conversation at a party tonight and got a response I never expected anyone to give from one of the women. She only likes giving head after sex. "I want to taste me," she said. "I like the way I taste."

Everyone has their preferences, so make sure you give - and receive - yours.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Six months of single bliss

Today is my six month anniversary of being a single girl. I'm happier than anyone could ever imagined.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Forgive and move on

Sometimes I hold a grudge longer than I probably should.

That may be the case with my brother-in-law. He did some pretty awful stuff about four years ago. Then on that Christmas Eve while I entertained my extended family, he spoke not one word to me the entire evening. My ex stirred things up even more.

Then he called me on New Year's Eve to "clear the air" so he could start the new year fresh. What about me? My brother-in-law only filled the air with his bullshit and stinky insults. He tried rationalizing what he did and only made things worse. Since then, things have been pretty icy between us. We co-exist when we have to. I decided that New Year's Eve he would never be welcome in my home again.

Now, four years later, I have a new home. My ex is out of the picture, and I have a chance to restart the tradition of entertaining my family on Christmas Eve. Either way, I'll cook the food. The grocery list is made. The house is clean. But I haven't decided where the meal will be served.

Do I forgive and move on? This is a perfect time for a fresh start, but I'll never forget.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

How to avoid getting burned

It's simple. Pay attention to the signs.

The other night, I ran into a few friends in our parking garage and they ended up at my place for a beer. It was the first time they had visited and also the first meeting for Lucy, my cat.

One of the guys, a self-proclaimed cat person, looked for her as soon as he walked in. She came running down the stairs and sniffed his fingers.

As he picked her up, tummy side up, I said, "She doesn't like being held."

He held her. Hugged her.

A little later, he picked her up again. Tummy side up. She squirmed and meowed. With no drama, she swiped her claws across his cheek. He dropped her.

"She told me she didn't want to be held," he said. "I guess I deserved that."

How many times has this very scenario happened with someone you're going out with? Okay, you're probably not being held tummy side up, but we should learn this lesson from a cat. When they don't listen; keep behaving badly even when you've said no, it may be time for us to swipe our paws - or claws - across more cheeks.

We don't have to be bitchy. Just firm. Say what you mean and hold them accountable if they ignore you.

I know Lucy taught me a good lesson this time.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Why do I want it both ways?

I tell myself and I tell others I don't want a relationship. I'm not ready. Besides, I like being unattached. But I miss it.

Is it bad to want it both ways?

Last night I went with a couple of girlfriends to a local bar for their end of the world party (remember the Mayan calendar thing?). It was great. Lots of people gathered. They were chilled for the most part. And only one newish guy hit on me. He was cute but not for me. It was easy to say no. Especially considering the amount of alcohol most people  consumed - just in case things really ended I suppose. 

Throughout the evening, I hung out with someone else. A friend? Friend with benes? Whatever you call us. Then he went home. He's pursued me off and on since the summer, but I haven't been that interested. Then we were together about two weeks ago. Since that night, I'm more interested. I'm not sure why, but I'd love to see him more. Not date. But he's one of the good guys and easy to like. Today he and I, with another friend, went to a movie where he mentioned the girl he met last night he wants to ask out. In fact, he's already texted her. I guess that puts a more clear label on us, but I was a little disappointed.

I want it both ways.

I said yes to another guy who has been hitting on me for weeks. The festivities. The wine. The holidays. Not having anyone. His subtle approach. The fact that he's nice all the time. It was easy to agree for the first time last night. There was lots of passion. I'm still not looking for a relationship, and neither is he. But it was nice waking up with someone, and he was late to work (oops). Now that the chase is over, I wonder if things will change.

What do you call a relationship that's not a relationship but is full of respect? One with no commitment but you see each other regularly? Sort of.

This is what I want for now. Whatever you call it.

Love to the single girls,

Addison

The best way to send a single girl running

A dirty apartment will send this and many other single girls running. Fast.

I had to catch myself the other day. I almost told a friend "I'll meet you for a drink as soon as you clean your apartment." But I stopped myself because I refuse to sound anything remotely like my mother. He moved into this place about a month ago. Well, sort of. Then he broke up with his girlfriend the night before. But no excuses. As you can see in the pic, he needed to hear it from someone.

I'm not talking a little dust and clutter. This is nowhere near OCD. I'm talking about when there's so much stuff thrown around you can't see the floor. When you can't tell where the kitchen sink stops and starts.

One guy invited a friend and me over to see his apartment. It's a great place. Good floor plan and big. Nice view. Two balconies. Probably pretty pricey. He had nice furniture and art, but it was just a wreck. Piles of stuff around the floor. A door off its hinges and leaning against a wall. Crap everywhere. If someone can afford the nice place, they can afford a housekeeper. Or at least a few minutes a day of attention on the place.

It all starts in the kitchen -- especially the fridge. Even if the counter tops are straight and the sink empty, food from six months ago smeared across the refrigerator shelves is disgusting.

Then there's the bathroom. People, toilets are white. They should be white all the time. If not, squirt some of that blue or green gunk in that takes off all of the crud. I've seen a couple of single guy - and girl - bathrooms that look like they've never been cleaned. Sixty seconds with a toilet brush hasn't killed anyone I know of yet. I'm a master at hovering over a toilet I don't want to touch, but sometimes what might jump out and bite is way too frightening. A girl just can hold it all night. A clean toilet might keep that single girl from running out the door before she makes it to the bedroom.

The one with the most huge ick factor is sheets. First, have them. Yes, I've seen a bed recently with a bare mattress that had been slept on. And this one happened to be a girl's apartment. Second, sheets should not be crunchy or have spots on them. Anywhere. Any of these is guaranteed among the fastest ways to kill a moment.

We have a happy ending to the mess in the pic. He woke up yesterday morning and decided to clean. And he did most of the day. I saw a transformed place. A home. Maybe the next single girl he invites in might stay.

And now, I'm going to do a little cleaning.

Love to the single girls,

Addison

Lonely versus alone

This is the time of year when a lot of people feel lonely. And it doesn't always mean they're alone.

I was lonely at Christmas time for the last years of my marriage. To my ex, Christmas was such a pain in the ass. He thought gifts were a waste of time. He was always in the middle of some tiff with family - his side and mine - and never wanted to spend the day with them. I've spent the last few Thanksgiving and Christmas Days with my family and without him (except for one Christmas Day with his mother - what a disaster!).

And what are the holidays all about but spending quality time with family and friends? Even then, it was lonely, but I wasn't alone.

This year I'm alone at Christmas for the first time in many years. It's lonely.

You don't realize how nice it is to have a someone who cares about you until you don't. One person who always puts you as the top priority. But I'll never go back. Any bad relationship is worse than none at all. I'd rather be lonely and alone.

There are caring friends all around, and I appreciate them like you wouldn't believe. But it's not the same. I'll be stronger after this year, I hope.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Surrounded by heartbreak

Last night I sat at the bar of a neighborhood restaurant with a friend and literally had to grab a hanful of cocktail napkins for him and a couple for me to wipe his tears off my shoulder.

Tis the season...for breakups.

There have been three lately. Three hot summer romances that were sizzling . . . until now. And my heart goes out to all six people. It's a tough adjustment going from us and we - to I and me. Coming home to an empty apartment, eating alone, waking up by yourself. But it's just an adjustment, and usually one worth making.

My friend last night broke up with his "home girl" Saturday night. She has no job and her unemployment ran out a few months ago. Last week she gave up her apartment and moved in with her mother a few miles away, but she hadn't spent a night in her apartment since June. He works from home. He just sold his three-bedroom townhouse with two roommates and moved to a small one-bedroom apartment. He hates being alone. Last night I watched his mood go from happy to sobbing on my shoulder. I'm not sure if his tears were for her, for himself or both. As of Sunday night, he hadn't eaten since sometime on Saturday, but he was not short on drinks.

They're nice people, but their relationship was toxic. They both drink too much. Day and night. The he started getting fed up with having to support her. Two drinking habits are expensive financially and emotionally. I was afraid they would implode together. Separately, they stand a chance of drinking less and being more productive, happier people. I the mean time, I'm exhausted.

Another breakup has the roles reversed. She loves her job. He doesn't have a steady income but dabbles in music and is trying to start a company. They met when she was new in town and not expecting a relationship. He moved in. She recently asked him to move out, so now he's couch surfing. They're still together but not like before, and it's hard for both of them. Some nights she'll talk to him at 11 o'clock and he doesn't know yet where he will sleep.

The last was a guy I was involved with for about a minute. The one who fell in love overnight and I found out about it on Facebook. He blew me off while I was wearing my amazing Dr. Who Tardis dress. I gave them until Halloween. They lasted until Thanksgiving. But I'm not cynical. I hear the breakup was dramatic.

Sometimes a breakup seems like it's tearing lives apart. But time heals. It always does. Then we do it all over again.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

The gift that keeps giving

No, I'm not talking about STDs or Chia Pets. Either would be cruel. In my mind, the gift that keeps giving is a smile.

Today I was on the road for more than 3 1/2 hours but never left the metropolitan area of my city. There was just way too much construction on roads with too many cars, and then rain on top of it all. People drove like they just learned how. It wore me out.

Toward the end, I had to stop for gas. The man who pulled up next to me smiled and said hello. I didn't know him, but I said hi back. Having someone take a moment to be friendly made my day. And he said bye when he left. Then he let me in the queue of cars in line for the exit. I wish there were more people like him on the roads.

We can put more people like him out there with a few more smiles, like putting the phone down when walking by someone. Instead, look at them and smile.

There are days I just don't feeling like smiling. This has been rough year dealing with lots of change. Adjusting to this new life as a single girl isn't easy. But I try to anyway, and sometimes smiling cheers me up - especially if someone smiles back. I know the friendly man cheered me up today. He made me be more patient with others on the roads - even though some of them were really bad drivers.

But with all of these smiles, it doesn't necessarily mean they want to get in your pants. Perhaps they're just happy and want to share it.

Share one today and I'm almost certain you'll be it back.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

He's not a jerk

Somebody shake me. Seriously.

He's not a jerk. This is how I described a guy I hang out with to a good friend the other night. He's really better than a jerk, but if this is how I measure a guy's character, I'm in big trouble.

There are a lot of jerks out there, and there seems to be a high concentration of them in my neighborhood - and in my life. It's not always guys either. There are some pretty major female jerks out there too. I've been burned by jerks way too often. I had to stop myself from putting pics of a few of them to illustrate this blog.

Here are a few recent ones. I met one guy by the pool the weekend after my divorce was final. He seemed really nice and asked me out to dinner that night. We had a great time. When I saw him at the pub not long after, he was drunk. And he was all over me. It was annoying. Then he put me in a headlock. I slipped out of it (one of the advantages of being height challenged). Headlocks are beyond annoying. No more wrestling moves since, but he hasn't given up on me yet.

The first guy I hooked up with after my divorce complained almost the entire time he was at my place. From evening until morning. He complained about my small balcony, my cat, having to walk up stairs, his hurt finger to name a few. Jerk. I should have kicked him out after the first complaint.

Here's another good one. My ex asked me for advice for his Match.com profile - before I had moved out. Really?

And the most recent winner is the man I've had a relationship with for nearly three years. He lives halfway across the country. The last time I saw him about six weeks ago, we talked about maybe getting together in December. Our visit was good. No, it was great. But now I haven't heard from him since Thanksgiving except for his occasional "like" on Facebook. I messaged him twice with the dates I'm available for our December visit. The last time was almost two weeks ago.

Jerk.

I'll never learn.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Alchohol

I'll warn you now before you read any further that you may not like this post.

It's real. It's painful. And it's the truth.

I'm writing this now because, for whatever reason, more people drink more alcohol during the holidays. It especially affects single people. And I want you all to stay alive.

Some may say I'm judging. All I'm saying is I can't be close to an addict. I'll be their friend, but will keep a very safe distance. As clueless as I am about picking the right men, I won't date an addict.

My heart can't handle another break.

I've seen so much destruction from alcohol, and these are just a few. One of my childhood friends was driving home with her husband from a weekend road trip to their university's football game. Both of them, along with their unborn child, were killed. A high school friend was in her first year of marriage when a drunk driver hit her and her husband. She was killed.

My first husband was an alcoholic, but I didn't realize it until after we married. Not long before I met him, he had seen his pre-teen baby sister die in a car crash when her babysitter took her on a joyride with her friends. The friend had been drinking.

While we were together, his brother was driving his wife home from a wedding he had been in. He and another driver were on a two-lane highway and hit head on. Both of them were legally drunk. The other driver was in a pickup truck and survived. My ex's brother was in a Mustang and didn't. He was still wearing his rented tuxedo. When I went with the girls to collect the car seat from the wreck (luckily it was empty that night), the images of the blood splattered child seat and the steering wheel bent on both sides in 45-degree angles will remain imprinted in my memory as long as I live. It was a closed casket service.

Destruction from alcohol isn't always from driving.

My ex never drove drunk. But he was drunk six days a week - from the moment he could consume enough after work until he passed out about 8 o'clock every night. Even after losing a sister and a brother to alcohol accidents, he never slowed down. After a while, I was with a stranger. He lost his job and his decline to rock bottom was happening so fast when we parted ways after just a few years together. couldn't handle being married to an alcoholic, and I don't know today if he survived.

I also watched a friend's big brother die from alcoholism. He was only in his 30s when his body started breaking down. He got really skinny, had very unglamourous conditions that made it difficult to digest food, and his skin turned yellow as his liver failed. He couldn't keep a relationship going and only had his brothers to stand by him as he died at 40. My friend was devastated.

I know we all have a few drinks - especially when we celebrate the holidays. Please keep it to a minimum and do not drive or let your friends drive if they've had too much.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Who's sneaky?

Sneaky has come up a whole lot lately. I guess it's the time of year?

We all sneak around when we have to. Sometimes sneaking around is good - like hiding Christmas presents or a surprise party. Sometimes it's not so good.

Last night I was at a happy hour I organized for a professional group I belong to. One of the guys there suggested he'd order appetizers and put them on his tab. But when I put them on mine, he called me sneaky. I guess that one was a good thing?

Speaking of happy hour, a friend was having drinks with her boyfriend a couple of weeks ago. It seemed odd that she ordered a shot and downed it real quick while he was outside smoking. They're both big drinkers, so I'm not sure why she felt the need to sneak a shot. And sneaking around in a relationship means there's almost always an end in sight.

I hid a relationship with another guy from my husband for the last two years of my marriage. I've written about it before, so you may know he was a big part of helping me get to where I am today emotionally. My ex was so clueless he never noticed the extra travel, the texts, messages and other clues. It's the only time I've ever done it and I don't think I'll ever do it again, but it's what I had to do to help gather the confidence to leave. Some might judge, but from my vantage point, this was a good kind of sneaking.

Sometimes sneaking isn't so easy. Saturday night at the party I didn't really want to attend, my friend and I decided to sneak out. He left first so we wouldn't look so conspicuous. Afterwards, I mentioned how the people standing near the door said.

"Are you sneaking out?" someone asked me.

"Uhm, no, I have to meet someone." I'm such a bad liar I didn't know what to say.

My friend suggested how easy it is to sneak away. "Just answer your phone and walk outside to take the call," he said.

"But I have a chip and dip serving dish and a purse in my hands. How do you explain that?" This time, he didn't know what to say.

And speaking of parties, I'm having a party for my closest friends in a few weeks. One of my long-time friends wants to sneak another date to it. Someone other than her husband, whose name is on the invitation. She even suggested bringing the married guy who's been chasing me for years. I had to tell her if I wanted him there, I would have invited him. She'd better not sneak him there anyway. That would be a bad thing.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Stay vertical!

Lots of single people seem to be landing on their asses recently. These aren't broken hearts and emotional breakdowns. These are real falls. The kind that break bones and bang people up.

There is definitely a trend with three falls since Friday - not including Lucy's fall from my second floor loft. And the trend is with people who are not old - they're in their 20s and 30s.

On Friday, I learned my friend had just slid down the last four steps of her parents' stairs and fractured her wrist. It's her writing arm - and she's moving this week. How inconvenient. I'm not certain if she was sober when it happened. She opted to wrap it herself and skip the doc since she doesn't have health insurance.

This morning I heard about another single friend who fell last night carrying a cup of tea. She spent a few hours in the ER to learn she's banged up and has a nasty burn from the hot tea, but all still in tact.

Then the winning fall was no accident. Early Sunday morning, a guy I know thought it would be cool to jump from the party hostess' second floor balcony. News flash...Superman is fiction. Bet he's still sore today. What a way to wrap up a Saturday night holiday party.

Single girls, please be careful! Casts, crutches and bruises are not this holiday season's latest accessories. And it's tough to feel fabulous when it hurts to move.

And for god's sake, if you do have a mishap and hit your head or body parts swell, go to the doc! Even if you don't have insurance, your health is the most worthy investment.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Parties, cookie dough and Superman

Okay, it was better to go to the Christmas party last night than to stay home, and it was all because I knew what to expect. But a few surprises make things interesting.

My friend was exactly as I thought she would be. She was the star of the party in her short, tight dress with her Mrs. Santa apron. And probably 3/4 of the guests were guys, and she wanted all of them to pay attention to her.

Not long after I arrived, she told those of us already there about two guys she'd met on Match.com. Luke  was her Friday night date. But why she'd take him to one of the neighborhood bars I'll never understand.

 "Whatever you do, don't mention Luke because Dylan will be here tonight," she said.

Not long after Dylan arrived, he and I were in the kitchen talking when another friend walked up.

"Hey, this is Luke," I said.

Oops, I meant Dylan. I wanted to suck the word back in but it was too late. I hoped he blamed it on the third cup of mulled wine I had in my hand. But he was probably more distracted by the hostess ignoring him most of the evening though.

Aside from introducing people by their wrong names, there were a few old friends and some new, fun people. Well, they were fun until the honey whiskey and two bottles of vodka were gone.

And if you like cookie dough, I tasted the most delish cookie dough dip recipe that's similar to the one at on this Snack Girl site (except the one I ate had honey instead of sugar and she used chocolate chips with red and green sprinkles). It's also good with pretzels or graham crackers for dipping. And it's certainly healthier than real cookie dough. Yum!

And there was a quick out. Just like I predicted. A friend and I made a stealth escape. He slipped out first so we'd be less conspicuous. We had a drink at a neighborhood bar then had our own nice little party. 

This afternoon, the hostess called to check on me. Seems the real craziness started after we left. One of the guests decided it would be great fun to jump from her second floor balcony. It was about the same distance as Lucy's fall onto the wood floor, but he landed on a brick sidewalk. I'm told he's hurting pretty bad today. He's lucky he's not in intensive care or worse. What was he thinking? What was he on?

Single girls, be careful who you invite to your holiday parties. The world doesn't need anyone else thinking they're Superman.
Love to the single girls,
Addison

I should know better than say nibble on Facebook

As long as I've used Facebook, I should know better than to use any variation of "yum," "delicious," "tasty," "hot," "nom, nom, nom" and other words we might use to describe food.

They attract our Facebook stalkers. These are the guys who watch your posts but almost never comment. Until these opportunities, of course. And the comments are always sexual.

I used nibble in a post about an event yesterday. The nibble was supposed to be of chili, but one of the comments was about nibbling me. This is a guy who's been trying to get in my panties for years. Never mind the guy is married with two children. I hope his wife and kids aren't on Facebook.

And it's funny these comments are usually on single girls' posts.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

To go, or not to go?

Is it better to go to a party when you don't want to or stay home?

I've already had a fun afternoon with friends, and I wouldn't mind staying in. And I'm still feeling out of sorts from Lucy's accident last night. But a girlfriend invited me to her Christmas party. It's a pretty small one at her place, so she'd notice if I didn't show up.

If you read this blog regularly, you've read about her. She can be nice, but instead she chooses to be such an attention hog and sometimes just downright rude.

She's always trying to outdo. Be the most dressed up, sexed up party girl around. The girl all of the guys talk to. And if that doesn't work, she's been known to try tears. And it works.

But I can't lie to her to back out. I'm such a rotten liar. (That's how you know all of these blogs are the truth.)

I know the party will be okay for a while. There will be other fun people there, and I can have a conversation with most anyone. And if it's that bad, the pub is about 100 yards one direction and my place is about the same distance the other direction. There's always a quick out.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Crazy risk

Last night Lucy fell. It was from this ledge of the mezzanine level of my loft about 10 feet up onto the wood floor.

I knew it would happen. She's tempted fate at least once a day over the almost nine months I've lived here. She usually takes a crazier risk by walking along the top of the narrow iron railing about three feet higher. I can't stop her. I've tried.

But Lucy's a cat and doesn't understand risk. People do.

People take crazy risks all the time. Not long before Lucy's fall, I left a couple of friends after having a beer with them at a bar. With the short drive home ahead, they each had a shot and at least two drinks before I left, and they never eat. I suspect the drinking and driving thing will happen with them and way too many people more over these holidays.

People take crazy risks doing other things. Carrying weed on airplanes, buying and selling drugs illegally and skipping out on taxes are just a few I've seen happen. People surprise me with the illegal or unethical schemes they try to get away with at work too. They always involve taking home more money by doing less work. 

Most of them know it's wrong, but the longer they take these crazy risks, the more Teflon they feel.

"I'm still here," they say. "It hasn't caught up with me yet."

Lucy has done this crazy balancing act dozens of times over almost a year. But this time, there was a loud bang, and she did not fall on her feet. Luckily there was no blood and nothing seemed broken. She was just dazed and confused - likely with a killer headache - and hid under the bed for about an hour then had a good night's rest. This morning she seems fine and more lovable than usual. Lucy's just a cat, but I hope she's learned her lesson and won't do it any more.

Remember, it only takes once.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

P.S. It's been four days and she hasn't been back up there.

Roommates

Lots of single people have roommates. Sometimes it even works.

I haven't had a platonic roommate since college, and there are volumes of stories. One roommate used to entertain us when she'd sleepwalk and talk about the dinosaurs. Eyed wide open. She graduated and moved out while I was away before summer classes started. When I came back, she had taken my silverware. She shipped the set back but was convinced it was hers. Now she's an attorney for a large metropolitan county.

Okay, my roommate issues were nothing compared with some people's nightmares. And keep in mind it's not just the roommates, but also their friends and lovers. I don't know a situation as bad as the movie Single White Female, but there are some pretty bad ones.

One friend just found out his roommate's ex has been spending on his debit card. Surprise! She's almost wiped out his account. This was after he bailed her out of jail in the middle of the night and god knows what else.

Another friend decided to share a place with one of her best friends. But the friend never paid rent or bills. She didn't cut down on her partying, but for some reason she was never motivated to look for a job. Then some nights, my friend would come home from work and find herself locked out with the keyless deadbolt. Other nights, she'd check the wallet in the strange jeans on the living room floor to find out who was in her apartment. She's living alone now and loving it.

Roommates can be great fun too. They share expenses, help take care of pets and keep the place from getting lonely. The good ones tend to get new job or fall in love and move out. Then you're alone again. One friend is so upset he and one of his roommates now have different addresses you'd think it was a teenage breakup.

These problems and bigger ones also happen when you fall in love and move in together. Some people decide to share a place because one doesn't have anywhere else to go. We're more likely to overlook the problems when love's involved. Don't overlook them. If they can't be a good roommate, forget everything else.
Another guy I know is about to move into an apartment by himself for the first time in a long while. He's talking about turning his new place into a naked zone, and I'm thankful I don't have a view into his windows.

You can certainly be freer in your own place. Decorate how you want. Keep the place tidy or trashed to your liking. Invite whomever you want over. Whenever. I recommend it.
Love to the single girls,
Addison

Thankfully unfamous

I opened my web browser today and saw a story Demi Moore Parties with Lenny Kravitz in Miami on Same Night as her Boy-Toy Makeout Session. After reading the story, I'm still not certain which one is supposedly her "new beau." As a single girl, I am certain that I'm thankful most people don't give a crap who I am.

Most of us don't have a paparazzi like Lindsey Lohan, Paris Hilton and Britney Spears - some of Hollywood's famous single girls. Well, infamous might work better for some. E! is now tracking Demi's party going. Wonder if the reporter who got that assignment is enjoying it.

If the paparazzi followed me tonight, they would have seen me partying in three places and hugging more than a dozen girls and guys. They would have overheard how my friends' and my first kisses happened and our notorious losing our virginity stories. They likely would've snapped pics of the very interesting lap dance a guy performed for me. Yes, in my lap. He said he liked my leopard-print tights. And I was joking around with another guy about how many times people have introduced us. We decided to make up new names every time that happened. His name for me was Sex Slave. The paparazzi might have had fun with that one. I wonder which one would have been my "new beau."

The Hollywood rags would eat up some of the topics on this blog. But they're not interested if the people in the blog don't  register on their fame meter. Or maybe they do. Only I know that.

Love to the single girls,
Addison 

Reality

The last few days I've been taking life easier. Staying up late and sleeping in. I've spent more time shopping, relaxing and having fun than working. And the weather cooperated.

I saved up for this mini break - time and money - and it was worth it.

Now it's back to the real world. Waking up earlier and not staying up so late. Doing work for my clients that they really should do for themselves. Back to the exercise routine and eating better until my next mini break.

It's also holiday party season - a time I'm starting to love again. If I know there's something fun to look forward to, it helps me get through the bleh work.

There's just half of the week ahead and always something fun around the corner.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

 

Under the watchful eye of big sis

My friend and I both had bizarre big sister childhood experience flashbacks today. Actually it was our big sisters' guys. And neither of us are Kardashians.

My friend's sister decided to take her to a pasture in the country where the local high school kids went to drink and smoke weed. The big sis decided her baby sister would drink anyway, so she wanted her to have her first drink together. But while they were there, the college-aged guy my friend's sister really liked secretly kissed both of them. My friend was only 14.

And I had my own big sister story. Our family lived in Europe when I was in high school and she was in college. She took classes at the local university and met a handsome 27-year-old graduate assistant from South America. They dated for months and, although she never told me, I suspect he was the first man she ever had sex with.

Before we returned home to the U.S., I went with her to his place to say goodbye. She made a quick run in his house and left me outside by the car with him. He put his arms around me and said what a beautiful young woman I had grown up to be.

Then his tongue was in my mouth.

My eyes must've been huge when my sister walked back out. This guy started a political party and ran for president of Costa Rica three times. He wasn't successful at that either.

My friend nor I ever told our sisters what happened - when we were 14 and 17 or today as adults. And we're guessing lots of other girls have big secrets from their big sisters too.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Life in 3D

Tonight I saw Life of Pi. It was a beautiful visual movie, and the 3D effects put the reality of survival that Pi faced right in your face.

Pi was a boy who loved adventure and learning about different religions. He was afraid of nothing. He had no reason to be until what became his greatest fear was the only thing that kept him alive.

This isn't terribly different from the lives some single people face - especially soon after a breakup when being single is fresh. Waking up every day struggling with basic survival. It's like being on that lifeboat for endless days and weeks, stuck with just you and the thing you fear most. Being alone.

The 3D glasses made the movie even more real. I felt Pi's vast loneliness in the water surrounded only by horizons, jumped when the tiger lunged and rocked with the boat in the stormy waves. I almost felt the water close in when Pi was thrown into it.

I wish there was a special kind of glasses single people could wear to make every day more clear. More real, similar to what 3D glasses do for a movie. I would love to wear those glasses to peer into a guy's soul so any dishonesty would jump right in my face. They could show if new friends have true friendship in their hearts. What are they really like. Would glasses really show me?

Could special glasses be a way to have the courage and hope it takes to do more than just survive this new life?

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Revenge

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a birthday party where something truly bizarre unfolded. But I didn't know until the next weekend what happened right in front of me.

A guy I know brought a girl to the party. They sat across the table from me at dinner but I never knew they were together. I didn't know he had recently said that four-letter L-word to her. Nor did I know another girl he had been having sex with was sitting next to his date.

Awkward.

But during dinner, the two girls figured out what they had in common. His penis. I'm sure it wasn't difficult to pick up the signs. These two smart single girls turned on him, and he ended up driving the birthday boy home - without either of the girls.

Some men envy him for his sexual conquests. Some girls are his friends because he can be a nice guy when he wants to be. It's the stuff country songs are written about.

The next weekend was his going away party. But no one brought balloons, but there was baggage. Before the party, one of the girls opened the bottle of Crown Royal she was planning to give him as a going away gift for us and we toasted to her freedom to move on. I wondered how many other bruised hearts showed up for a last farewell. He's lucky none of them were crazy - none of them I'm aware of at least.

He's now moved to the sunny coast where there will be new conquests. I'm certain. And time for the old ones to heal.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Sunday fun day

Today was an amazing day.

Sundays are such perfect days for sleeping in. We run around like crazy people all week. Between work, family and social commitments we just get burned out.

By Sunday, we need a break - or at least I do. A day to do nothing but have fun.

Today I did lots of hanging out then had a delish brunch with a friend. We took advantage of a sunny, warm day by the pool. In bikinis. Surrounded by Christmas decorations. And tonight was filled with romantic, holiday themed movies. And wine, of course. What more could a single girl ask for?

I can't get enough of days like today. With the holidays and stress and shopping and parties and all of the chaotic and fabulous things that come in December, take as many Sunday fun days as you can. Because now it's Monday.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Samesiders

On Friday, I ate a yummy BBQ lunch with two writing friends and saw the cutest couple. They slid into the same side of the booth, shared a drink and ate shoulder to shoulder. Samesiders. I could tell by her ring the couple was either engaged or married. They weren't get-a-room touchy but it was very clear they were into each other. I hope they keep that forever.

My ex and I never had that. He always wanted his space, unless we were in bed. There was no touching unless it was sexual, and that's a problem.

The sweet couple reminded me of the beautiful time my lover and friend and I have spent together. Ever since our first date - a delicious three days in San Diego - we held hands as we walked down the sidewalk, kissed often and shared the same side of a booth.

"Oh, you're samesiders," a waiter said during that weekend. It was the first time I had heard the word.

We looked at each other and laughed. I guess we are. And three years later, we still have that closeness.

Yesterday I saw another couple doing the dress-alike-while traveling together thing. They're the ones in the pic. I didn't get to see them eating, but when they do, I'll bet they're samesiders.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Damn I can get a lot done when I stay in

Since I got back from Thanksgiving, I've been trying to stay in a little more. And I like it. For now.

It's part necessity for survival and part desire. My clients have been especially needy lately. I guess everyone's trying to cram as much as they can in before the year ends. They want to finish the to-do list before they go on their long Christmas vacations - and I get to relax at home!

Having a couple of extra hours I would have otherwise spent sitting at the pub with friends has been a huge help in getting other stuff done too. My Christmas tree and decorations have been up since early this week and about half of my cards are mailed.

I have two cute pairs of skinny jeans that are made for Amazon women that must be 5'10" at least. So I've been stuffing the extra length in boots. On one of my evenings in, I thought about how dumb it is to waste two hours in the car when I have a sewing machine and can hem them myself. So I did, and it took the two hours it would've taken to drive to have them altered, plus I didn't spend a dime or have to do without them for a week.

Now I'm refreshed, almost caught up and getting a little bored with staying at home. So I plan on getting my single butt out of the house more over the next week. It's time for some new adventure.

Hope you do the same.

Love to the single girls,
Addison