Wow! What a warm welcome from the bloggers out there! Thanx for all the encouragement.
A couple of years ago, I started to write a book about relationships. I thought I could cash in on all the valuable "life lessons" to which I have been so mercilessly exposed. I also thought that maybe others could benefit from my experience. Here's a funny dating story that nobody could possibly benefit from.


I’VE NEVER BEEN HOTTER…NOT!
Okay girls, here is an example of one of my favorite personal dating experiences, with notes at the end pointing out some wrong and right moves on my part and his.
We’ll call him “Farty Von Poopy-pants” or something of the like. At first glance, he was friendly, attractive, respectful…a true gentleman. I met him through my softball league at an all-star game about four months after my engagement to Smokey was terminated. We only exchanged a few words, but a few days later, he was asking around for people to fix us up. On the first date, he showed up with a huge bouquet of flowers. He took me to dinner and drinks, followed by a lovely long walk along the Frazer River. The conversation flowed and I actually thought there could be some chemistry. We had a lot in common in terms of music, view-points, and humour, so I agreed to join him at his friend’s barbecue the following Monday. The mood at the barbecue was light as we joked and played bocci-ball, and I really saw myself fitting in nicely with his friends. Could this be the one?
On the third date, I was really starting to like this guy. I went to his home, where he had steaks marinating, potatoes roasting, and a nice salad all tossed in its bowl. Wow, somebody pinch me! The man can cook! When he greeted me, he lifted me right off my feet, and squeezed me tight. Hey! Sexy! And then it happened. As he was flipping the steaks on the grill, whistling all the while, I heard two little farts, escape from his nether region. All I could think of was how embarrassed he must be, so I let it go casually and without comment while he, in passing, said, “Oops! Tooting!”
On the next date, we ordered sushi and rented one of the only Adam Sandler movies that stunk worse than my date’s dinner-time etiquette. Well, it must have been a bad omen, ‘cause to my astonishment, he farted while snuggling me on his couch! Try and picture it. My back, to his front, spooning, leather furniture, you do the math. And let me make myself clear. It’s not like he tried to hold it, like the rest of the world would, praying and making deals with God just to keep those cheeks together. I could feel the muscles in his stomach contract whilst he farted “God Save the Queen” into the leather cushion. Classy.
` Believe it or not, there was one more date after that one, in which the exact same thing happened while snuggling on the couch. He even rubbed my leg tenderly and whispered, “Excuse me” into my hair. Okay, so that was it for “Flatchy Mc Crapmeister” and me. I jumped up and told him that he was disgusting, and made a timely escape. I barely had the club off my steering wheel by the time I got to my sister’s house to tell her of my ordeal. I never heard from him again.
Okay kids, can you see what happened here?
#1) Nice move on his part for not farting while lifting me up off my feet. Way to restrain yourself, “Tootie Von-fluff’nstein”
#2) In fairness, dinner was nice, every woman likes a man who can and will cook.
#3) Thumbs down for me not making tracks after the first time he farted on the couch. Before that, when he crapped himself while cooking our dinner, it could have been an embarrassing accident. After that, it’s just disrespectful.
#4) Thumbs up to me for not repeating past mistakes. AKA getting the hell out of there rather than making excuses as to why a grown man wouldn’t know that that’s a turn off for any self respecting woman.
#5) and to “Poopy St. Stinky-bum,” on what planet IS this a turn-on for women?!?
When a person behaves in a way that you disapprove of so early in getting to know each other, you have to nip it in the bud. Now, I could have sat him down and talked to him about how it made me feel disrespected and insulted when he did that. But I just don’t think I should have to tell a guy who’s knockin’ on forty that that was inappropriate. Also, we all know that the way we act at the beginning of a relationship is not representative of how we behave on a regular basis. Let’s face it. We’re all on our best behaviour. If he’s crapping himself every time he sees me within the first two weeks of knowing me, I shudder to think of what it would be like a year down the road! Can you imagine sitting around Christmas dinner with the family when “Gassy Van Breakin’Winder” lets one go?!?

This is my beautiful Aunt Ellen, who has inspired me to start blogging. My first recollection of her was at her first wedding when I was about 7 years old. After that, I didn't see her again until last summer when she came to visit us in BC.
My Aunt Ellen has an energy about her that just makes me want to stop and smell the roses. I read her blogs daily to keep up with her thoughts and feelings, and she just makes me wish I could be near her. It's funny how you can see some relatives and wonder where the heck the genetic connection is. With her, I instantly felt a kinship. I felt like I was talking to a long lost sister rather than an aunt. This picture was taken the day she left BC. I had said my goodbyes the night before, but ran back over to my parents' house the next morning to catch her before she and her wonderful husband Curtis left. The reason, to get this picture.
As I mentioned in my last entry, my sis, my daughter and I made a calendar for my dad last year for Fathers Day. The calendar featured my dog Frisky in various costumes representing a significant event or holiday for each month. I figured, what could be more significant for that month than her visit with us?
My Aunt has been suffering with some pretty heavy medical issues in the last couple of years. Cancer is so cruel. It can take away so much, and yet she always seems to have time, energy, and concern for others. Just reading her blogs shows me that. Seeing the concern and love that pours onto her from former students, fellow bloggers, and friends is a direct indication of how many lives she has touched and continues to touch each day. She's a truly lovely person with an obvious passion (and skill) for writing stories of her childhood, and of daily events that can make you smile to yourself, or well up with tears.
We were all lucky enough to meet and get to know her husband Curtis as well. I rarely see a couple so much in love. It shows in the way they look at each other, talk to each other, and take care of each other. Truly inspiring to those of us who haven't found Mr. or Mrs. right just yet.
I was reading Curtis' blog the other day and my heart swelled so much I thought it would burst. He was talking about how happy it made him to see my Aunt happy, and I just thought it was the sweetest, most genuine sentiment. So heartfelt I sat there grinning from ear to ear while at the same time tears stung my eyes. Of course, I can't even get through an episode of Little house on the prairie without bawling, but still!
Anyway, I've only laid eyes on Curtis and Aunt Ellen a handful of times, but I love them both. Somehow, they move me, sap that I am.

Hello, all my faithful readers, aka "Mom". The little guy on the left is my dog "Frisky". My sister Sheryl, My daughter Alicia, and I made a calendar for my dad last Father's Day featuring our little booger-nugget. It was hours of torture for all of us, but look how cute he is!
Don't worry, I'm all finished gushing about the dog. I'm not obsessed, even though he's so damned cute!
So, I guess I was giving some background on my past when I started this blog yesterday. Where was I? Ah yes...Teen aged, pregnant, and making one bad decision after another.
My relationship with Alicia's Dad was going down hill fast. His drinking, and drug use made it impossible for him to put his priorities in order. After a tumultuous two years of escalating verbal abuse and the odd physical altercation, I decided to leave. I finally got it that this man was not the man I hoped he was. Maybe without the substance abuse, and his own childhood issues he would have been, but all the maybes in the world wouldn't change the reality. So I packed up and moved back with my Mom and Dad. The next day Alicia's Dad was killed in a car accident. He was drunk out of his mind when he let his car drift over the center line into oncoming traffic. Alicia was only 10 months old. Thank God nobody else was killed. The people in the other car were wearing their seat-belts, but Alicia's dad died instantly when his chest made impact with the steering wheel.
It was the hardest thing, so far, that I've been through. Still reeling from the break-up, my emotions were all over the place. I still loved him, even though he had caused a lot of misery for me. You know how teens can be. Hell, a lot of adults are like that, too. The guilt of our harsh and bitter last words plagued my mind. It was a difficult process, but here we all are, 14 years later, everything in perspective. When I think about it now, it seems like I'm thinking about a dream I once had.
Anywho, that's how I became a single mom at the age of 18.

Well, after reading many of my aunt's entries, I plum decided to start blogging myself. I've always had an interest in writing, so perhaps this is just what I need to quench my thirst for it. Thank God for spell check, though, because my love of writing has never influenced my ability (or disability) to spell.

My name is Sharon, I'm a 34 year old single mother of a beautiful 15 year old daughter, Alicia. I work as a hair stylist out of my parents' home, which has allowed me the freedom to be available to Alicia as she grew up. I could always make it to every soccer game, or drive on every field trip. I could schedule my appointments around what time she had to go to, or be picked up from school. It was a freedom that few single moms are able to enjoy.

Alicia's father was a brick layer who liked the drink. I don't know how many times I told him that he was going to get himself, and someone else killed one day if he continued to drink and drive. When we met I was only 13 and he was 23, and I had an instant crush. I was a not a promiscuous girl by any stretch, nor did I have much confidence to speak of. So I never suspected that I would wind up in a relationship with this older man. At the time, in fact, he was living with a girl a few years older than I, who was expecting the birth of his first child. Aaahhh, teen-aged pregnancy...

It wasn't long after that relationship hit the fan, that he came looking for me, through mutual friends. Being the self esteem starved teenager I was, I thought it was pretty cool that this older man would be interested in me. Especially since I had just had my heart broken by someone else. This was the perfect time for me to throw myself back into the mix...When I was vulnerable. So that was exactly what I did.

Within a few months, we were eagerly awaiting the arrival of my gorgeous little girl. By this time I had reached the ripe old age of 17. Hey, no reason to wait till I'm older, maybe establish a career, perhaps get to know the guy I will be sharing this huge responsibility with. I felt like my whole life was set. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

Teenagers have a very unrealistic view on life. Dr. Phil always says it's because they don't have the ability to see around corners. They can't predict consequences. Well Dr. Phil is a very smart man, because lemme tell ya, there are some things that I did not see coming!

Well, my client is about to arrive, so I guess I'll have to continue next time. If anyone is out there reading this, I would be very surprised.