When one thinks of spring, images of flowers and kite-flying usually come to mind, or perhaps a scene from Bambi brings forth memories of animals driven by primal urges, or "twitterpated". Alas, I am no exception to this spring time ritual, having found someone that I am particularly interested in mating with. He is an exceptionally nice guy and not my usual "type" which means he's probably extremely right for me...provided I can keep from screwing things up with him. (Insert "LOL" here.) As is typical with my habit of wanting men I cannot have, he is several thousand miles away from me - although I have a plan to remedy that. The difficulty falls with convincing said potential mate that I am the one for him - without divulging the location of my Thumper tattoo and explaining its meaning. I want him to like me for me, not for my insatiable sex drive. (Repeat "LOL".)
I have been married three times. This is something I am both proud and ashamed of. I am proud because I've had the intestinal fortitude to keep getting up, brushing myself off, and playing hand after hand at the game of love. I'm ashamed because I am 34 years old and have three failed marriages under my belt. I suppose it goes without saying that I know how to pick losers, although the downfall of one of the marriages was partially my fault. No, I'm not going to elaborate. Because of this, I have come to the conclusion that I just wasn't meant to be married. Therefore, any man who winds up with me will have to be satisfied with living in sin for the rest of our time here in the physical realm. The up-side? The man who winds up with me for the duration (and possibly eternity thereafter) is getting a real woman. Someone who doesn't know the meaning of the word "quit" and has so much love saved up, it's over-flowing and spilling over the aforementioned tattoo. Hello spring! I'm glad you're here!!!
