Who’s The Flake?

I’ve been seeing a guy I used to date four years ago. Let’s call him Repeat. I broke up with Repeatrepeat in 2011 because I couldn’t see anything long term. We literally had only one thing in common *wink*. He loves watching sports- I’d rather have a root canal. He loves to travel- the idea of jet setting 24/7 makes me queasy. I like to read, write and express myself- he hasn’t read a book since it was mandatory in college.

The point is, we both agreed we’ll never be serious. Quite frankly, I have no time to have anything other than fun until I graduate my masters program.

Last weekend, we had a good time at a wine bar, which led to the inevitable. Repeat promptly asked for a follow-up date for this weekend. I agreed. He had to babysit his brother’s kids on Saturday night, so I offered to come over with board games and keep him company after the kiddos scampered off to bed.

So, last Friday came and went. No text or phone call. That’s okay, I reasoned. We already had plans, right? Saturday in class, not one text to confirm plans. So, I did what I almost never do- tried to confirm via text. He skirted the issue and mentioned he was at a baseball game that would end at 10pm.

To me, that sounded like a flake move. I resolved to make other plans with friends. At 11pm, I received this message:

“Hey, I finished up a little late here. Still down to come over?”

Doesn’t that sound like a booty call? It did to me, so I didn’t respond.

So, my fellow bloggers- Who’s the flake?

Sharing Is Caring: 55 Good Ideas For Blog Posts

I’m a public relations practitioner by day, mother 24/7, student of the arts on the weekends and dating app swiper by night, so I’m always on the look out for good content.

Suffering from blogger’s block? Check out this AWESOME infographic on the “Ultimate List For Blog Post Ideas” by clicking the graphic or here. Although it was created by a digital marketing firm, it holds water for personal blogging with a dash of ingenuity.

Bad Habit #345: I Overreact

I can’t help it. I mean I can, if I work on it, but the impulse is so hard to control.

I’d like to say that I am an impassioned person to justify my impulse to react, but that’s not fair.



I got into it with the new boyfriend over a topic near and dear to my heart- using contraceptives. I’m for, he’s against. Regardless of where you stand on the issue, I did get mad at his stubbornness and failure to see why my point of view (i.e. my accidental mom status has forever shaped my perceptions) makes me a little bit of a tyrant on the issue.

I kind of became a bit of a drama queen. I need to check that. It’s a new relationship, so I need to temper my expectations.

What Are Your Top Posts?

I believe in a little self improvement and agonize over my traffic- the posts that were read, but not commented; the posts that had more comments than readers; the old posts that warrant more revisits; and etc.

Help a girl out and post in the comments section what your top blog posts were. I’d love to see what types of content people are REALLY interested in reading.


What Happens When You Don’t Give Credit…

This happens to me all the time at work. I produce something really awesome and my client gets the credit. I must sit back and smile. My pay check is the last one laughing, although it stings.

So today, henceforth, I will be better with crediting photos on my blog. I’m going to add a link-back to header images and a caption for embedded media. I’m pretty sure through reblogging and commenting, I do an okay job giving others credit for their good ideas and if I borrow an idea, I link back to the original poster, but I can always do better.



Some side-effects when you don’t give credit where credit is due (whether it’s at work, at home or on a blog):

– Resentment. It might take awhile to fester, but the idea originator(s) will become a slow burning enemy(ies).

– Credibility issues. The more you borrow and fail to credit, the more people catch on that you’re kind of a con-artist. Don’t be surprised if your ship is suddenly desolate and your not really the captain anymore.

– Stale ideas. You are constantly re-purposing old content that has worked in the past. But it’s still a pig with different shades of lipstick.

– Disillusionment. Everyone is nodding or agreeing with you once in awhile, but you’re not having real conversations. You start to have this me vs. them attitude as your ego tries to absorb the blows.

Slut Shaming

Listening to some of my guy friends talk about the pantheon of girls they slayed in the past month, I thought to myself, how many guys would call a girl a slut if they overheard this conversation? Oblivious to the double standard, my guy friends did the proverbial back slap and complimented each other’s conquest.

The Myth:

Women who live a “free love” lifestyles are sluts while men who do the same are masculine and virile.

If we refuse to scrub the word “slut” out of our vocabularies, then it needs to be an equal opportunity slur. In fact, I think I called a few of my guy friends sluts while they shot back a nonplussed glance my way. I chose not to say “male slut” because I am treating this word as agnostic of gender or sex.

Until we erase this word completely, my promiscuous male counterparts, I will mercilessly slut shame the fuck out of you.


An Amazing Dinner With A Cameo From Lizzy The Roommate Who Is A Little Bit Crazy

I’m a little late, as usual, while I drive almost a half an hour away in Friday afternoon traffic. My make-up is nearly perfect but I am a little disappointed in my outfit. My apartment is a little bit of a wreck right now- a variable clothes explosion- I couldn’t find the outfit I was going to wear to save my life!

I pull up to his house, effortlessly yuppie with a well-manicured lawn, and hear Hipster’s music blasting from the window in the kitchen.

The screen door was propped open, inviting me in.

“Helloooo?” I called.

A half balding, older man popped his head in the hallway, “Hiya. Come on in.”

I walked into the kitchen and was greeted by Liz, a very petite blonde in ass-hugging jeggings, a white blouse, nude pumps and a white Chanel handbag.

“Hi I’m Liz,” she said and shook my hand.

So far so good. The three of them were downing moderately priced champagne. It was a bit early for me to drink so I nursed the glass while Liz went about the kitchen tidying (it was already immaculately clean). Poor Hipster looked agitated at the roommate and boyfriend intrusion.

Liz certainly didn’t get the hint and made herself at home on a bar stool.

“So Penny. Tell me about yourself.”

“What would you like to know?” I asked pleasantly.

“Hipster tells me you’re a single mom. So like do you have baby daddy drama? Are you friendly? Do you guys talk? Were you ever married? Do you miss your kid on weekends?”

I kid you not, this woman asked about 20 inappropriate questions in one breath.

I’m not the kind of woman to divulge my life’s story after knowing a person for five minutes, so I answered some of the more mundane questions.

She then went on to tell me about her impending divorce to a man 15 years older (in his fifties) who was a psychopath and a sex addict. I then learned she was trying to settle for spousal support and the house but the divorce process had taken two years.

“Do you ever want to get married? Was your pregnancy planned? Why don’t you and your ex talk? Even to co-parent?” she kept yammering.

After about an hour and a half of interrogation, I wasn’t sure that I liked this woman. She acted like someone who snorted too much Adderall, running around the house, chasing her dogs.

Finally she and her boyfriend left. I was relieved. Hipster went on to plate our first dish: perfectly cooked gnocchi with pickled artichokes, asparagus and a pesto sauce. The second course was even better: seared scallops on a bed of cauliflower puree (tasting surprisingly nutty) and sun dried tomatoes with flecks of bacon. The first two courses were so big that neither of us could stomach the other three he planned to cook. The desserts were cheese plates, delicious mulberry jam and chocolate-covered, fresh coconut.

We had amazing conversation, plenty of wine and those “come-hither” glances you see in movies. No more than two hours later, Lizzy and her boyfriend came home to make yet another cameo, drunker than before.

The two of them plopped down next to us and restarted our previous conversation. Liz rambled on about her female and male houseplant’s love connection (?!) and said things like “I know we probably shouldn’t be friends, but I think we will be,” “You should bring over your son next time- I love to babysit!” and “you have an intimidating type of style” because I wore black and white and dark makeup.

Our night ended after WE excused ourselves to Hipster’s room. I’m not quite sold on this chick, but their body language didn’t portray any hint of a past, romantic relationship.

At the end of the night, I am happy to report that we are now exclusive :-).

Should I give her the benefit of the doubt and loosen up or is something somewhat unhinged?

He’s Making Me Dinner!

After a weird morning running into my ex on a back road (without his flavor of the week in the passenger’s seat ?!) I am happy to report I will have a five course meal waiting for me at the Hipster’s place later today. We had lunch earlier in the week and he gave me a beautiful bouquet of flowers!

He’s kind of a big deal chef around here. The only downfall to this perfect date is that his roommate, Liz, will be moping around acting like a third wheel.

Still haven’t figured out that relationship…

Updates to come!

Single Dad Uses His Car To Advertise For A Girlfriend- Cute Or Creepy?

From Yahoo:

A single father who has had no luck with online dating is taking a new approach: posting a personal ad on the side of his pick-up truck.

Robin Thomas, a father of three in Arkansas, has been spotted driving around town with a sign on this car door that reads: “Looking for a date? Would you date a single father?” The sign lists a phone number and only one requirement: “Ages 21 & Up.”

single dad2So- cute or creepy?