I’ll admit that I’ve been in a lull for a while. I haven’t been dating anyone, except for the occasional dates here and there. Nobody new – so, nothing really exciting to report.

I finally made it through those no TV for 30 days I promised myself. I finished Stephen King’s memoir (thank you DC Dude it was a wonderful book), and I’ve pretty much stayed off the dating website:  http://www.plentyoffish.com.  

My TV has been turned on twice in the last month. I had to catch up with Dr. Drew and see how my celebrity drug/alcohol addicts were doing on VH1’s, “Celebrity Rehab,” which I’d like to report – they are all still a mess!

People fascinate me, and I guess that’s why I like watching like “Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew,” and of course, “Tough Love.” I’ve always been the one to root for the underdog, probably because I was the underdog most of my childhood.

In a conversation with Beth the other day, she asked how my writing was going. I told her there was a lack of writing material, because I wasn’t dating anymore, and it was frustrating me. 

“Then write about your frustration about not having something to write about.”

She’s brilliant that Beth – she really is.

Here’s my issue: We all know that I love writing about my dating dilemmas and adventures. I do it because I enjoy it, and also because I know my girlfriends truly enjoy the stories and as some of you have said live vicariously through me.  But now that I’ve taken the online dating out of the equation, what do I have left? No dates. Which, I’m actually okay with, but now I don’t have anything interesting to write about.

On one hand, I don’t want to subject myself to the dog-chasing-its-tail routine with the on-line dating, because we all know it’s just a bunch of crap.  But, yet, here I am – stuck in a rut with nothing to write about, and I’m really feeling tempted to jump back onto Plenty of Fish.  It’s like the moth to the flame!

But wait, I do have a BIG subject to write about!

WARNING!

DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!

(Cover your eyes Nathan; this is going in the category of T.M.I. and could possibly come close to breaking Rule #3!)

*PAUSE*

“Woo-Hoo!”  That was Beth in the background.

*YELLING BACK*

Ya, easy for you to say, Beth. You are the one who said how great it would be to be penis free for a whole year, but now you get to snuggle up next to your B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D.

I think it was New Years Day that Beth and I had this conversation about being penis-free.  We were at her house in upstate New York for the holiday weekend; she was standing in the kitchen and I was sitting on the couch poking around on my laptop.

“Beth, what do you want for yourself in 2010?

“To be penis free,” she quickly replied.

“What? Oh, my god. Speak for yourself, sister and, for God’s sake, don’t please jinx me.”

But, it was too late.  Soon after that conversation Beth got herself a boyfriend.

So, here I am doing the penis free alone.  It’s not so bad; I have so much more time to do the things I like to do. Plus, I have a full schedule: A job that keeps me on my toes, family obligations, girlfriends that keep me entertained, and things I want to accomplish this year. Of course, whoever I date could partake in these things with me, but I know myself – it’s been a good 7 years of waking up alone, so when that right guy comes along, I just might want to stay in bed with him – for a week.

Spending a weekend in bed together is not just about the sex.  I miss holding hands, spending lazy Sunday mornings together, making breakfast, reading the paper together…

Long conversations in bed…

I miss spooning…

I miss being held…

I miss kissing…

God, I miss kissing.

I have a girlfriend (and you know who you are), who told me right after she broke up with her boyfriend that she never liked kissing him.

Let me ask you this: How does that happen? How did that guy get a second date? Because if it were me, it would be a deal breaker. If you can’t kiss – the date comes to an abrupt halt, I pull back with the deer-in-the-headlights look and say, “Well now, I think I need to get going,” to which, my date will start to object and whine. (And we all know there is NO whining in baseball – or dating.)

This reminds me of when Becky and I were living together in Jersey City NJ, I had a dinner date with a dude, which was fun, but then it got awkward when he dropped me off at my house.  I knew there was no chemistry, but he went in for the kiss anyway.  I was horrified because I tried to give him just a peck on the lips, but he decided he wanted a full-on kiss.  Now, insert above-mentioned comment about me having deer-in-the-headlights look and then quickly shutting the door behind him. 

“Becky!”

I made a mad-dash through the house and straight into Becky’s bedroom and kept calling her name until I reached her bedroom.

“Never again, Becky. I think I’m going to throw up – he kissed me like a dead fish, lizard mouth – Oh my God, the man had no lips.  Just tongue….

Becky, sitting Indian style on her bed, casually put down her book and looked up at me, “So does this mean he’s not getting a second date?” The guy never got a second date and got instead the infamous Carrie Rejection Line (that works like a charm): “Even though I enjoyed our first date, there won’t be a second.”

And speaking of kissing, the other weekend while I was home in New Hampshire, I bumped into someone who I had previously hung out with: Writer Dude.

It had been four months since we had last spoken – you know how it goes…I think we just lost interest in each other, or he had met someone else.

Then, in walks Writer Dude and some of his friends.

Holy shit, it’s Writer Dude! Seeing his handsome face again and having a few glasses of wine (you know wine makes me into the Kissing Bandit) I went over to talk to him.  

Once we had the niceties out of the way, I went in for a big hug.  (He’s 6’2″ – the man knows how to give a hug. How could I resist?)  Then, I pulled him into the front hallway, away from everyone in the living room, for a long over-due make-out session.

And damn – it was good!

Finally pulling away I said, “Had you kissed me like that the first time…I don’t think we would have let four months go by without seeing each other again.”

Then it dawned on me that our little moment could possibly be interrupted at any moment by “trouble” spying on us. I slowly peaked around his shoulder to make sure there wasn’t any…

This is what “trouble” looks like:

And sometimes, it looks like this:

A little background on Writer Dude:  He and I had met around the same time as I had met The Senator. I really liked Writer Dude, except for the fact that the first time we met, he mistakenly hit on more than one of the chicks in the Hen House that night.

*RAISING EYEBROW*

A few weeks later, I bump into him again at the Wild Rover.  This time he was making it obvious he wanted to talk to me. Trust me, I didn’t make it easy for him. 

Finally he gave it one last shot, as me and my friends were standing outside and waiting for our ride home.  Unfortunately for him, I had a few well-poured Jack & Cokes so and standing there, I finally told him how I felt.

“You can only flirt with one of us. I was interested in you the first night we met, and I made it pretty obvious.  But, you picked somebody else.  And now that she doesn’t want you – you want me.  That’s bad form!”

Even with my verbal lashing, I have to hand it to him, he stood there with his tail between his legs, hands in his pockets and took it like a man.  He wasn’t going to give up – citing ignorance and being drunk that first night we met.  At the end of my rant, he apologized profusely over and over.

Okay, I get it. It is true that when we are out with our friends drinking, we are prone to do stupid things, and we sometimes get a little over zealous.  I get that and I couldn’t blame him, especially when there were so many pretty girls in my circle of friends to choose from.

I adore Writer Dude, and to boot, he’s really cute with those big, blue eyes and 6’2” stature – great body, and really sweet. He’s got a calming energy, spiritual, a good father, and a good man, (even though Gail is always quick to remind me of his college antics).  But, who can say they are the same person, as they were 20 years ago? And what college guy isn’t trying to stick his penis in ever girl he sees?

So, what the hell was my deal then?  Here was my chance to finally sleep with him, and even after that great kiss, I still remain penis free.

Great.  Now I get to write about how exciting it is to be penis free.