French Kiss Misfire

Misfiring the French kiss

The first date was going well!   The first in a long while.   He smiled when he saw me and greeted me warmly with a light hug.  The conversation seemed to flow well – and I found myself laughing.  While some dates can feel like an interrogation, on this date I felt comfortable being myself.  It was a goal I had – to just be myself.  It sounds silly – I mean who else can I be but myself, but on the last several dates, I felt extremely guarded and kept myself hidden.    Over two hours of conversation and one glass of chardonnay, Gary asked me out again.  He paid the bill and walked me to my car.  As we stopped by my car to say good night, he leaned over to kiss me.  As I he lips approached, I saw the tongue – right between his lips.  As his lips touched mine, I felt the tongue on my lips. All slimy.   Is this guy for real?  Even in the most romantic of settings, I don’t want to see the tongue lead.

I am immediately  taken back to when I was 25 years old, working on my masters degree at University of Wisconsin – and had a similar kissing experience – first kiss, his tongue in the lead.  It was gross.  Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good tongue exploration, but not on the first kiss.   The first kiss should be all lips and long enough to say I am interested in more, but not too long to imply I am looking for a hook up.  After all, we have just met.  As soon as Gary’s wet tongue touched my lips, I hastily retreated from the kiss.  We hugged, and then as we drew apart, he tried again, but this time he kept his tongue inside his mouth.  The kiss was better, but still slimy and not pleasurable.  He said he’d call me.   As I opened the door to my car, I remembered, I never gave him my number.  I did not see him again.

After some repeat offenders, has it become necessary to include a section on this in my dating profile?  Perhaps “I don’t speak “french” on the first date.  Alternatively, I could just wear a t-shirt on the first date that says…   “Unless you are Mick Jagger, don’t lead with your tongue.”

One of my friends suggested that if I otherwise like the guy, I should tolerate bad kissing as I can train him how to kiss.  These are 50 year old + men.  If they can’t kiss by now, I am not going to be able to train them!  Am I wrong?

I think good kissing will light the fire – a slow burning fire that will stay lit.  A good kisser is on my list of “wants” in a relationship.  Bad french kissers need to move along.  Next!

Here’s to continuing the journey.

Warmly – Lucy

Wanted: Yoga Pants and Stilettos

Wanted:  Yoga Pants and Stilettos


As I wrote my last blog Enough with stupid profiles – or not?  I passionately complained about men’s on-line profiles.   I compiled a list of the most annoying things I hear men say they “don’t want” or “do want.”   I challenged myself to write my own profile based on a compilation of that and  I posted my Tinder account with my new on-line profile:

God-fearing woman fluent in sarcasm.    People tell me I look a lot younger than my picture.  I look great in yoga pants and stilettos.  I’m looking to keep it simple.  No drama.   So let’s meet and see if there is any chemistry”. 

I also changed my profile picture to a sexy picture of me in sunglasses standing on a pier in California with a beach behind me.   Sunglasses to remain somewhat anonymous – god forbid someone I knew saw my new slutty profile.  Also, a majority of men  like to post pictures of themselves in sunglasses so I assume they must like that look.  

I stood back and waited.   

One week later, only a couple guys had emailed me.  The only responses were they liked the vision of the yoga pants and stilettos.  Otherwise, not one proposal!    I was surprised!   I was expecting an onslaught of guys who had found the women they described.  The girl who was reflecting back what they said they wanted.   Or do they?   Maybe they really want something more substantial than that.  I believe so.  I suspect that a man with my “fake” profile doesn’t attract any better response than I received.  At least, I want to believe that.

I could not take the masquerade any longer, and went back to my “pre-experiment” profile.

I’d rather be me any day of the week.   Love, Lucy


pexels-photo-167838.jpegEnough with stupid profiles – or not?

There are days, like today, when I can get worn out in “Tinder-land.”  Tinder, is the of 2018.  It’s super easy to use.  You see a photo and you can like the person by swiping right or rejecting them by swiping left.

If you want to base your decision on more than the photo, you can click on “i” to get more information.  Don’t get your hopes up – the information, if they have even bothered, is often pretty skimpy.

Your profile is your “marketing piece.”  As such, you hope that what you post will attract suitors. This is not always the case with many men’s profiles — they are just superficial and stupid:  Here are some of the more common descriptors and my typical reaction:

Godly, God-fearing :   I get it – I’m Catholic – but it kinda scares me. Swipe Left

No Drama:  To my credit, I don’t know what that means – but what it tells me is that they have attracted drama.  Swipe Left

Let’s keep things simple:  You mean you want just sex….no relationship.  Swipe Left

Fluent in sarcasm:  Men seem to like sarcasm.  That’s because that’s how men treat men.  I can be sarcastic, but really hope for more in a relationship.  Unfortunately, if I’m not sarcastic or lead with a joke, then I get 86’d.  Ugh.  I gotta play this one.

Let’s meet and see if there is any chemistry:  No interpretation needed.  Swipe Left.

None of it worked for me looking for a man,  I swipe left every time, but what if I changed my profile  to write what seems to be important to a man?  Here’s how my ad might sound if I put it all together:

God-fearing woman fluent in sarcasm.    People tell me I look a lot younger than my picture.  I look great in yoga pants and stilettos.  I’m looking to keep it simple.  No drama.   So let’s meet and see if there is any chemistry”.

Let’s face it.  My inbox would be flooded with responses.  Maybe it’s time to think like a man.  I’m going to change my profile.

Let’s see what happens.

Enough with stupid profiles – or not?

The horror of the Grannie Panties


The horror of the Grannie Panties

After a few weeks of being on-line, I finally had a date.  This would be my first date in 25 years.  His name was Pete.  I was a nervous wreck.  My 23 year old daughter, Anne, stopped by to help me get dressed.  It was a beautiful summer day.  I had selected a pair of skinny blue jeans, and a cute top, and sandals.    I had my make-up on, and I stepped out of my bathroom to  get the final seal of approval.  I gave her a dramatic 360 degree turn.

“How do I look?”

Anne exclaims, “Mom, what kind of underwear are you wearing?”

I am confused “The jockey underwear I usually wear.”  “Why?”

“OMG, Mom, you have panty lines.”

I am nonplussed  “The guy does not care about panty lines.”

“OMG”   Anne is immediately calling  her younger sister Leigh.  “Leigh, we have a situation.  Mom is wearing her Grannie panties on a date.”

Leigh “OMG – you can’t let her go looking like that.”

I am still nonplussed  “Guys my age don’t care about that.”

Both girls together  “YES THEY DO!”

I had a choice, I could go commando or wear the Grannie pants and face the horror show of panty lines.  I chose the latter.  While, I thought the date went well, Pete did not give me a second chance.  The girls were convinced it was all about the Grannie pants.  They marched me straight over to Victoria Secret and lined me up with some modern day “no panty line” panties.

I still liked my cotton Jockey’s, and wore them when they were not looking.  They finally had an intervention in which they raided my panty drawer and confiscated the jockey’s.

In their defense, I got a second date.

Dating – Ground Zero

pexels-photo-253905.jpegThe day after I had my first baby, a friend asked me “when are you going to have another?”  As I sat on my ice pack , still sore from delivery, I thought … “are you kidding me? ”  So it should have come as no surprise that friends and family were on me from the day the ink was dry on my divorce — “are you dating anyone” – and my continual reply “no”.   Just as I was recovering from my sore bottom after childbirth, I had to recover from the pain of divorce.  I wasn’t ready for another relationship, and I could not get my arms around the idea of being with another guy.  So after my two year hiatus, I finally decided I was ready or so I thought.  The big day finally arrived.  I gathered two girlfriends, and took some photos, and we sat down together, armed with wine to launch me into the wide world of on-line dating.

As I hit the launch button, we sat together hopeful as we waited for Mr. Right to immediately appear.  Wow, was I in for a shock.  Despite setting up parameters for matches, I was receiving inquiries from 25  to 75 year old men.  None of them tall, dark, handsome or successful.  It was overwhelming.    I did not realize I needed a manual to navigate this.  After a few days of trying without one, my daughter asked me how it was going.  I told her that I was “freaked out”  by emails asking me out.  She calmly said, “Mom, let me see if I got this right, you are on a dating site and you are freaked out because guys are asking you out?”  That was ground zero.

Love.Grow.Life (LGL)

When life hands you lemons, you have to make lemonade — at least that’s how easy it sounds.  Learning to be open to love, loving myself, obtaining personal growth, and  fully living life again are conscience thoughts I repeat to myself each day…Love, Grow, Life.   It’s taped on my wall.  It only took 3 years of therapy to get to this.  I know that seems ridiculous as it should have been apparent from day 1, but, as the saying goes “when you are in the forest, you can’t always see the trees.”pexels-photo-460554.jpeg  I want to share my journey so that I might inspire or console others who may be on a similar journey.  I hope you feel a friendship with Lucy.