Monthly Archives: September 2016

"Fall"ing for the Little Things

Fall is without a doubt my favorite season!  And not just because of the donuts and apple cider, either (cue feelings of Michigan cider mill-induced nostalgia).  Leaves begin to fall from trees in a fascinating spectrum of colors ranging from deep red to a stunning gold.  Clear, sunny days are swapped out for thick, overcast clouds, cooler air, and thunderstorms that lull you to sleep.  It’s the perfect weather for falling in love.


Some of my fondest memories of falling in love took place in the fall.  One in particular happened when my husband had come home from a 12-hour midnight shift to cook me breakfast.  Two things made this event special for me– the first being that I was five months pregnant at the time, which meant that I pretty much lived in the bathroom!  The second reason this is such a fond memory for me is because my husband can’t cook to save his life.  Now I know what you may be thinking:  He just says that so you’ll be the one doing all the cooking.  And while that may be true of some men, let me be the first to assure you that in my husband’s case, nothing could be further from the truth.


At about eight o’ clock one September morning, my husband dragged himself into our townhouse after having been on his feet all night at the Naval Medical Center in Portsmouth.  Normally when he would come home, he’d climb the stairs to check on me and the kids.  However, on this particular day I noticed that instead of him making his usual rounds, he walked directly into the kitchen and began fumbling with the pots and pans.  Although puzzled, my pregnancy fatigue had managed to hold me captive in my own bed.


It wasn’t long before the questionable silence gave way to the piercing sound of the smoke alarm, as the pungent odor of burned food permeated the air.  I sat up, startled, and waddled down the stairs as quickly as my growing belly would allow, arriving inside my kitchen in just enough time to see thick clouds of smoke rising from a pot on the stove.  It seemed my husband thought the best way to scramble eggs for his pregnant wife was to crack them into a saucepan, turn on the burner, and hope for the best.  No oil, no water, Just.  Eggs.  As I’m sure you can imagine, I ended up scraping burnt egg out of the bottom of that pot for about a week!  But in a deliberate expression of gratitude for my exhausted, hard-working husband, I ate every crispy bite of the breakfast he made.


It is often the simplest of gestures that exude the most love.  My hope for all of you is that you find someone who turns all of those “little things” into cherished memories.


What are some of your fondest love memories of this season?

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You are 30+, yet, no man!

I understand the pressure from family and friends for you to just get “anybody” to call your man. 

Also the pressure from within  yourself at this point is unbearable.
Not that you are under spell or something. It is just time.
Some will say she was ignoring every advances when she was young was why she is still young and all sorts.
You don’t have to let the pressure and the talks get into your head.
Forget religious doctrine, you cannot cheat nature. Not that you refused all advances at you when you were young nor you were wayward, but the time is the difference here.
Yes, women should try to do all they need to do as early as possible as menopause is fast approaching, but we cannot achieve everything at the same time.
You are young and you have it all now, i bet you, you don’t know what this ladies are going through and this is why you should not take any responsible man for granted.
If you are among the few that is yet to have a man, you can still have it even at 40.
There is something those men are seeing that you are not paying attention to which is making them to pull back.
Don’t let the pressure make you take hasty decision that you will live to regret for the rest of your life.
There is nothing the world is yet to witness. You are not the first neither will you be the last.
Just be positive, be submissive, be observant and be prayerful to the God you serve as he knows the best time.

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So Are You too Good to Date Online?

Hey Hunty Boo Kitties! The last week has been extra cray but just know I have some new topics, and beyond alladat, I am working on bringing some vlogging into the mix soon! So continue to ride with the kid, I got you!
So let’s get into this topic kids!
So a little while ago (meaning like a couple years, so maybe not a little while ago… Whatever), I met my now ex fiancé on a dating website. Girl yes… I met him on a dating website. He was so nerdy looking in his pictures, and his bio was funny. It wasn’t funny because he was trying to be, it was funny because he was trying to be smooth. And if I could imagine his smoothness as a walk, I’m sure he thought he was Denzelin, but he was really Norbitin! But I for some reason saw past that, and gave his crunchy ass a shot. Turns out he was a good guy, until he wasn’t… And if you want to know what I mean by that, check out my previous blog…My Mommy Being Gone almost made me make the biggest mistake of my Life
So let’s get a few statistics about online dating.

Did the statistics make you scratch your head? Well according to online dating is more mainstream than you would want to believe. Now I get that a lot of people (well not that damn many), are still skeptical about online dating. And in my opinion, those same people are ones who believe that every person in Atlanta has AIDS because of what somebody told them.
I would never say that online dating is where you will find your Boaz (girl I wish), but I am saying that it could be worth a shot. Especially if you are a person who doesn’t go out a lot. I actually spoke to some men online about why they chose to date online, and the responses were just as diverse as all of them. One guy said, “because I work two jobs, when I get off, I’m tired, and it’s nice to speak to a beautiful woman, who could possibly want the same things I do.” Another guy said,”because I’m not really into approaching women on the street, but I can approach a woman online.” So there are a thousand reasons why a person is online, and a thousand reasons why someone would choose not to date online.
I have a couple of Judys that have chosen to not partake in the online dating pool. When asked what was up with that, the answers were pretty interesting, but always with something they’ve heard behind it. Like my one Judith said, “It’s just not my thing, I go out a lot and I go to church, and I would just want to meet a guy in the traditional way, plus them guys be catfishing!” While that does happen, catfishing is the exception and not the rule when it comes to online dating. So my question is… Do you feel that you are better than online dating?
Let’s face it, people think that the normal online dater is either some 600 pound white man with grandpa glasses, old pizza boxes on his desk, and 10 year old sweat stains in places he doesn’t even know exists anymore. And don’t let me get started on what they think the women behind the screen looks like, let’s just say they think she has cats named Chip, Charlie, Marley, Marilyn, and Manson!
But those of us who know better, know that online dating is really just as diverse as the club scene and the world in general. I mean, let’s be real here, the Internet has EVERYTHING! It has everything except in person interaction, but it does help those who don’t necessarily have the best opening lines. “Do you like spam…?” (This would actually be a good opener to get my attention because sometimes I do enjoy a late night fried spam sandwich. Not often, but sometimes… Slather that cheese and miracle whip on that thang… Lawd!)
But I know you guys don’t just come for the scenery, because you gotta catch the tea while it’s hot… The real tea is, the same guys/girls that you are picking up are the same ones that might be nice to your grumpy ass online. And also if you don’t go out, Mr./Ms. Right isn’t gonna find you on your couch (unless you’re in a porn)! So stop being messy on Facebook, and maybe find yourself a handsome gentleman caller! Remember all lives can’t matter until #blacklivesmatter. Like and share! -signed the black girl behind

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15 Words Of Affirmation For Your Spouse

My primary love language is ‘Words of Affirmation’. It means I LOVE when The Mister showers me with compliments, sweet cards, love notes and gratitude. If your primary love language isn’t Words of Affirmation but your spouses is, it can be difficult to find the right words that they need to hear. Don’t worry, I gotcha covered! 

Read more from 15 Words of Affirmation For Your Spouse at Just Murrayed

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Condoms, Coils, Contraception and Carburetion (an explosive mixture for internal combustion)



I had decided that it would be more sensible to visit the doctor for contraception than to fall pregnant with my sixth child at the age of 49 because I’m fed up with condoms and getting complacent about using them due to the fact that our combined age was now 101, and that’s surely to old to conceive?


I hardly ever go to the doctor, so there was a little list when I went, (a large wart and my boring old bad neck) and confronted with this list, the doctor actually thought that the diaphragm was a low priority and could wait.  Bad judgement call in my opinion doc, but I made a non-urgent (because I’m not seriously ill) appointment to see her again in two weeks so that she could then fully concentrate upon furnishing me with my contraceptive of choice.


She spent this second appointment telling me about the coil.  No thank you doctor, I don’t want that, I have heavy periods.  Aha! then you will love the Mirena coil, which has a little tiny hormone which all but eradicates periods.  No, doctor, I wouldn’t love this.  I do have heavy periods, but I don’t want them ‘eradicated’.  I just want to not have a baby, but to have sex, without my hormonal cycle being messed about with.


“Diaphragm it is then Mrs M.  Oh, I must ask,” (to satisfy the computer screen, for statistics, for drug companies)

“how did you hear about the diaphragm?”


God Almighty Doctor, I’m nearly 50, I’m a trained nurse, mother and grandmother and avid reader of women’s magazines, and I haven’t spent my entire life living under a stone, so how would I not have heard of the ruddy thing??  Poor doctor with her cup of cold coffee and acetone breath and her petulant peri-menopausal patient. She peers at me over her spectacles.


” Alright Mrs M,  on your way out make an appointment at reception, to see the nurse, for the fitting.”


Now I’m most certainly not about to make this appointment in reception in front of the whole village who will no doubt suspend their conversing, coughing and hawking just as she clearly enunciates the the word ‘diaphragm’ whilst looking at me, mad menopausal old Mrs M.  (you know, her with all the kids)


No. Instead, I go home and telephone the receptionist, who repeats my name with a questioning inflection in her voice.  This is usual..there are two Mrs Ms using the surgery, so she confirms my address.  I hope that the collective village, stolid in the waiting room reading year-old magazines and gently emitting an aroma of damp wool, and now clear upon exactly who she is talking to, are not listening to her end of the telephone conversation as she says, with an even more urgent questioning inflection in her voice (as if she’s never heard of one)




“Oh God can you please not say that out loud in front of everyone!”  I’m clutching the telephone receiver and burying my head under the cushions of my sofa.


“Sorry.  There’s no one here anyway. (!?) Is that for contraception?”


I hesitate for a second whilst my brain shuffles through its files of information on the diaphragm.  What other use could it have?  A fold-away soup bowl for Lilliputians?   Not boiling hot soup obviously but maybe gazpacho.  The only other diaphragms I have ever come across, so to speak, are the ones in the float-chambers of carburettors in spluttering motorcycles which are inexplicably losing power in the mid-range. Usually flexibility has been lost through age, resulting in a crack in the dry rubber which means they need replacing.  Which can be a pig of a job depending on the arrangement of the carbs.


“Well its not for my carburettor I can tell you that.  Yes yes, for contraception.” 


 She completely ignored my carburettor joke, unless it had confused her because then she said,


“You don’t mean the coil?”


We made me an appointment for some weeks hence. Well, I realised the following week, that I’d screwed up on my timings and couldn’t make the appointment, so I telephoned to cancel.


“Ah Mrs M, we’ve been talking about you and your diaphragm.  The nurse can’t do it and she thinks you will need to make an appointment with the doctor first.”



And they wonder why young, inexperienced, self-conscious teens get pregnant.  If a knowledgeable, worldly-wise battleaxe of a mother and nurse can’t get herself sorted in less than six weeks and four appointments then of course world population is going to grow exponentially

Jil x

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Modern Views on Young Marriage

This post by Ashleigh Elizabeth was originally published at Her Happy Heart

[image credit: Sky Simone Photography]

I have the torso of a ten-year-old boy and more baby-hairs than what is acceptable for an adult. I’m well aware that I look like I’m 12. However, it was never so obvious to me until after I was married. Are your rings real? How old are you? Is your husband rich or something? But you’re so young! Are you pregnant? Yep. I’ve been accused of marrying for money, being knocked up, wearing fake jewellery and ‘looking too young’ – all from strangers I might add. When people discover we didn’t live together beforehand or have premarital sex, it’s as if I’ve hit the reset button on their brain and they have to take a minute to reboot before they say: …Wow. That’s so… cool.

I was 21, Sam was 23, we were newly married and lived in a granny flat, had terribly paying part-time jobs and were both studying full-time. Two years later, Sam is a full time teacher, I have two part-time jobs and am still studying, we’re long-term house-sitters and everything is pretty peachy. Our house is almost always messy and most nights revolve around Netflix and pizza while I do my assignments and Sam marks year seven science work.

It would be untrue (and very cliché) of me to say ‘I wouldn’t change a thing’ with a faraway look in my eyes and a sickly sweet smile. Yeah, there have been ups and downs and there are some things I would change, but I have never, never ever, ever, regretted the age that we were married.

What I find odd, is that at my age it’s more socially acceptable to have multiple sexual partners than it is to get married. It would seem that we’re considered somewhat of an anomaly. It’s become sort of an unspoken rule in modern society that you should put off marriage so you can ‘play the field’, ‘shop around’ and focus on your education and career. To some, serious relationships are considered an inconvenient distraction. See, marriage isn’t considered the ‘cornerstone’ of a family or a relationship anymore – it’s the ‘capstone’, the final piece. Something you might do once everything else is in order. It’s no longer a foundation for beginning a lifelong relationship, but an accomplishment, a trophy or a reward. Perhaps it’s a way to congratulate yourself on living together for a certain number of years without separating.

According to the Australian Institute of Family Studies, in 1975 the average age for a man to be married was 24, for a woman it was 21. In 2014 the ages were 31 for a man and 29 for a woman. I’m certainly not saying one age is better than another; I’m not against people getting married when they’re older. What I am saying is that people only seem to see the negative side of getting married young. People think we did it out of a sense of urgency or that we rushed into it. Some of my friends have whispered that I’ll regret it later (true story, actually overheard that conversation, it was awkward) and a customer at my work sniggered to her friend that I wear fake rings for attention. Is it so hard to believe that we just love each other a lot?

I understand that if we got married later down the track we would have been more financially stable. We would be more mature, wiser and have a better understanding of the world. I probably would know how to cook way better and maybe we’d keep the house tidier and wouldn’t play PlayStation at all. But what I love about getting married at 21 is that we get to grow up together. Sam taught me how to poach eggs and I taught him how to fold clothes so that they fit in the wardrobe nicely. I actually love that we play PlayStation together in our undies and that we share Age of Empires tactics (always build a wall around your city, guys, always). I love that we’ve both never travelled extensively and we can travel the world for the first time together.

People look at us and think that our age defines our marriage, but our marriage isn’t different because we’re young. We’ve had many trying times together, and I imagine they’re the same struggles that any older married couple have overcome. Sam and I have endured the grief and loss of family deaths, worried over job pursuits, financial struggles, and faced personal battles. We’ve fought, cried, shouted, laughed, danced, teased, scared each other, and brought intense joy to one another. We’re each other’s biggest supporters, encouragers and advisers. We don’t just listen to each other’s burdens; we share in them, take them on and try to conquer them together. I know a lot of people have an ‘I’m a strong, independent person, I don’t need a partner’ mentality. And that’s cool, but it’s never been me. Is it so bad to want to depend on another person? I like depending on Sam, and I like that he has to depend on me. Taking on the burdens of another person is a lot of hard work but it’s also a huge privilege.

People tell me they’re delaying marriage because they’re searching for the right one, their perfect soul mate. Perhaps they are, but I think that view is backwards. I don’t think there is such a thing as the ‘perfect person’. I love Sam, but I hate that he steals all the covers and leaves dirty plates strewn throughout the house. Sam hates that my hair clogs the drains (like, actually so much hair – how am I not bald?) and that I take off my socks in bed and then push them over to his side. Does anything about that sound like a ‘perfect person’? Sam isn’t perfect, but he’s perfect for me, just as I’m not perfect, but I’m perfect for Sam. We became each other’s soul mate after we made our vows and our promises before God. I didn’t marry Sam because he was my soul mate; he became my soul mate because I married him (aw, bless).

My aim isn’t to prove that marrying young is better than waiting; I just wanted to combat the contemporary mantra of “If you marry young, you’ll regret it!” My husband and I married young, and it’s pretty great. We don’t have a fairy tale marriage, but only Disney princesses do. In the future, we anticipate new challenges and joys and accept that there will be things out of our control. We know that we are completely committed to each other and we will grow through those challenges.

smush test 6

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Why I Write Romance Stories

When I was a little girl, my mother told me that I would be a writer.  She pictured me having a lucrative career writing fictional books for children.  But while she may have hit the nail on the head with my career, she couldn’t have been more wrong about the genre I would choose to write in a few decades later.


A few semesters ago, I took a creative writing class, in which a book entitled Angel de la Luna, written by Filipina author M. Evelina Galang, was assigned.  In this particularly lovely book is a female character– a friend of the main character– who writes love poems on small slips of paper, and leaves them in different places throughout the village.  When Angel, the main character, asked her why she did this, she responded by saying that writing those love poems while her country was in the midst of a revolution was her way of fighting the hate that surrounded her.


When a person grows up in the environment that I grew up in– one of fear, domestic violence, and very little love, the imagination tends to wander, often drumming up fantasies in which “happily ever after” is as commonplace as blinking and breathing.  In fact, I can recall dreaming up such stories as early as ten years of age, from the safety of my room, where no one could penetrate my mind and sabotage what little happiness I had.  The drunken fights, the shouting, the name-calling and manipulative actions of my parents only fueled the fire within me to shut out the dysfunction, and envelop myself in a world where love was not only the effect, but also the cause. 


For so long, I wrestled with feelings of guilt and shame for writing the way I do– allowing judgmental people to convince me that I was giving Satan permission to use me through my talent.  Being raised by a devout Christian mother often meant having every minute detail of my thoughts thoroughly scrutinized and heavily censored in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.  However, it wasn’t until I became an adult, and began to experience lie for myself, that I slowly came to realize that everything isn’t always a matter of black and white.  And now, almost three decades later, I have learned to listen to my own voice, and let my heart lead me into doing what I do best:  Write.


I write stories and poems about love to show that black female paraplegics are more than capable of affection.  I write about love because I am a domestic violence survivor three times over.  I write about love to mask the terrifying and downright annoying post-traumatic stress symptoms I live with, as a result of the multiple cases of sexual abuse I have experienced throughout my lifetime.  I write about love because as an empath, feeling things on a much deeper level than most has practically become second nature to me.  And finally, I write about love, because like Angel’s friend, I choose to combat the hate that engulfs this world by putting out as much love into it as humanly possible.


Jimi Hendrix said it best in his quote, “When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”

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3 Reasons Why You Experience a Break-Up


No one wants a relationship to end but without understanding why, you will keep hoping from one relationship to another. To ensure you do not keep repeating patterns, here three reasons why your relationship may not last:

  1. You are Lonely
    Loneliness makes you settle and give in to any potential partner that shows up in that moment. You have a longing to be in someone’s arms and you want to be loved. You do not want to take the time to wait any longer and believe you can make it work.Reality is that loneliness will awaken your emotions and cloud your judgement, leading you to believe empty words without actions…giving in to get hurt!
  1. There is a Void in Your Life
    You have a void in your life that you believe having a partner will fill. Your partner may not see things the way you see them so you try to force them to do what you want them to do. The truth is that no one can fill that void but you…that longing for growth…to emerge into a higher level of self. Focus on filling the void and make the shift where necessary.
  2. You Are Not Ready
    You do not feel complete and have not meet your own needs. You do not have a vision or set goals for your life but you believe your partner can make you feel complete and meet your needs. The very things you are looking for in a partner, are the very things you need to work on by yourself (excerpt from my book, “Being Single: A State for the Fragile Heart.”). Ensure you feel complete and whole…become ready to be the partner to be found.

 Send me an email to learn more about what it takes to be ready.

This material is copyrighted. ©2015 Kemi Sogunle. All Rights Reserved. This article was originally published on Kemi’s website.

Kemi Sogunle

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Just Slip Out The Back, Jack

Just Slip Out The Back, Jack


As you all know, The Snark does love her some Gwyneth Paltrow and her out-of-touch-with-reality outlook on life. I do look forward to the GOOP Gift Guide coming out every year. Not only do I always need fresh stocking stuffer ideas for under $100,000, the laughs it generates around here has become my main source of cardiovascular exercise. Plus, I am some stuck on about a half-dozen other posts.

So, I checked to see if there was any announcement yet. Sadly, the release date is not yet posted for the catalogue, but the GOOP website always prints some foolish time-waster entertaining and helpful article to lighten my mood.

“20 Ways to Leave Your Lover” by Dr. Jennifer Freed caught my eye today. Normally, I would have skimmed over the article with the same jaundiced eye that I use for all that Free To Be You And Me crap, but I had to delve when I saw the following:

“If we could all agree that it is in the best interest of ourselves, and our communities, to get into some serious intimacy shape, we could begin to deal with the reality and the sorrow of relationships that are fizzling out… We could support one another to take regular inventory of the health of our love relationships….to not go into denial about intimacy erosion”

The best interest of our communities? What the hell does that even mean?

Apparently, while I’ve been worrying about things like Zika virus, nuclear war, and environmental breakdown, it’s the insidious erosion of intimacy has been tearing apart the very fabric of our society. Honestly, I had no idea. Does it mean that councilmen/women passing out copies of the Kama Sutra at town hall meetings would be more beneficial than trying to get new sewer covers? Does it mean, “Do you have a thong I could borrow?” has replaced, “Do you have an extra cup of sugar until I get to the store?”

So, in the interest of civic pride, no – civic duty, I feel some of these tips on the right way to “consciously uncouple” need to be addressed/adjusted, and that Dr. Freed needs to be pointed in the right direction. Note: Keep in mind that Dr. Freed brought us the concept of Marriage Midwives, who are experts in mediation skills and conflict resolution – I guess.

I’m also curious if there is something like the Marital Midwives of America Board or Institute that certifies these people or what. Maybe Doc Freed does it herself, but again, I digress.

I’ll at least start on a positive note with item #1. A few were just too stupid or incomprehensible to discuss.

1, Take full responsibility for your part in the ending – Ok, I like to think I’m a reasonable woman, so if she means I take responsibility for saying, “Pack up your shit and take it and yourself back to the psycho-bitch you call your sainted mother, ” then yeah, I’m all in.

sharking I was just getting used to ghosting.

2. I stopped appreciating you and took you for granted. – Bullshit on that. Start appreciating yourself and stop letting him/her take you for granted.

3. Keep your words in the affirmative about the situation and avoid all attempts to make you right and your partner wrong. Again, it is all just loss. There are no winners.Oh, there are winners, all right. Just make sure the winner is you. When you eliminate toxicity, you’ve won – and won BIG.

4. Keep all your soon-to-be ex’s secret vulnerabilities SECRET. Do not ever reveal intimate facts. That would be tasteless and petty. – I’m unclear on this. For example, my ex was sensitive about going bald, so by “tasteless and petty”, does she mean doing shit like this?


5. Take time to dissolve the ending by giving your partner notice and discussing reasonable ways to end things.While I stopped the credit card the second he went out the door so he couldn’t get a motel room, I did give him a lounge chair we kept under the bed to sleep on the beach. It had one of those little umbrella thingies on it, so I think that was MORE than reasonable. I also gave him enough for a sub at Buzzy’s. I mean, how much can one woman give?!

6. Refrain from clingy sex. – No worries, there, doc.


7. Keep appropriate new boundaries to avoid confusion and undue stalling. Respect your partner’s boundaries and their need for distance. Hmmm. Distance. Turkmenistan works for me

8. Speak highly of your soon-to-be ex. – HAHAHAHAHA!!!! Oh, you were serious.

9. Take up a new class or hobby to help you fill the new free time that is often fraught with compulsive over-thinking. – It’s probably too late for the “Effective Use of Nunchuks” course at the local high school or online “Undetectable Poisons For Fun and Retribution” (see “Stop! You’re Killing Me!“), but learning how to throw pots or weld, sure, why not?

10. Pay off all debts and split things up fairly. – I do have to say this is true. Nothing tickled me more than when, at meetings with our lawyers, his attorney would (repeatedly) lean into him and say, “So, Loser, what do you want to do about the kids?” We had no kids. He was fucked. I enjoyed this so much, I would have paid this shyster. On the rare occasion, lawyers can have their place.


11 Spend a good deal of time reflecting what you could have done differently. – This is a ridiculous waste of time. The only thing I would have done differently is that I would have done it sooner. The day I finally threw him out was a wonderfully defining and empowering time my life. The date is still the pin number of my ATM card. Honest to God, it is.

12. Be kind to all of your mutual friends, as well as the friends of your partner. Avoid taking sides. There are no sides. There is just loss. – Bullshit. The ARE winners. There ARE losers. There ARE sides. It’s human nature and you cannot fight that. You just can’t.

13. Use this time to take great care of yourself by getting in shape, not just physically but mentally. – I have admit that this is true. The empowerment you feel by making yourself look better and feel better after being with someone who made you feel like you are nothing is a truly wondrous thing.

14. Be faithful to your soon-to-be ex and do not involve anyone else romantically in your complicated emotional maelstrom until you are truly separated. – Again, true. Who needs the confusion? You don’t know who you are or what you want yet. You may not even know that you deserve better yet.

15. Give your soon-to-be ex lots of physical space and let them attend to things without having to see your face. RESPECT the transition. – Oh for the love of God, spare me the psychobabble! I just hate this shit! “Respect the transition.” Just give me a fucking  break, will you, doc?


Gwynnie says that she is going to start distancing herself from the whole GOOP thing, and I am just going to have to start looking for a whole new source of material. Mining this motherlode has been such a boon to a snark blogger such as myself, that it will be a wrench if she does that.

I’m just not sure if her cluelessness is a legacy that can be passed on to another. On the other hand, she probably has minions (not to mention little Apple) who have been learning at the feet of the mistress since Day 1.

For us, it will be rough, but GP says, “My dream is that one day no one will remember that I had anything to do with it.”

I can’t say I blame her.

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First Podcast with Tim Baughman – Dating Horror Stories



which doesn’t have a name yet

or a clear direction

just me, Tim Baughman, Tim’s radio skills, my totally irrelevant podcast expertise, and between the two of us, one decent sense of humor and some good stories.

Give it a listen, and then, if you love me (or him, I guess), give us some feedback!

Please.  We are begging.  I’ve even made it easy for you with specific questions, which you can see below.



  1. What the hell should we call this thing?
  2. Ideas for how to get it online for free?  Soundcloud charges after a bit, like 190 minutes I think.  Should I host it on my blog?  Do I have room?  Right now we have it on which is fine but is that where boring podcasts go to die?  I know nothing about it but that’s just what it sounds like.
  3. Where should we submit it?  Google Play, iTunes…that’s all I’ve got.  Halp.
  4. Are we interesting or funny, like, at all?
  5. If it’s terrible, do you still love us?
  6. What kinds of topics do you want to hear about?
  7. Any other sage advice?  We’ll take anything you’ve got.


Thank you.  You are all beautiful elegant swans.



Samantha Clarke



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