Sunday Boyfriend

I have said this over and over: When choosing your Sunday Boyfriend, or anyone you want to be in your world, you need to be choosy.  Got that: Be choosy. That said, there is an upcoming opportunity to make a choice that matters in your world; in our world. If you’re in a swing state, you know all too well this choice is coming. It’s been barreling through your world with messages for months; messages that sometimes stretch the limit of elastical-reality. But you know what? Just as snapping a waistband can leave a stinging mark on the skin, so too…

If you’ve been reading my blog you know I have been honest in sharing that while I have a significant other in my life, a really wonderful significant other (who has proven again and again that he is there for me), I do in one way or another, love all my Sunday Boyfriends. I’ve been asked,“Doesn’t that get sticky?” And in a nutshell, it can if you let it. While the purpose of SB relationships should serve to comfortably fulfill a need in your life, I would argue you need to balance that with being true to yourself. Sure, sometimes…

I’ll let you in on a little secret: in high school my friends voted me most likely to become a nun. I know. Ridiculous. Remember, I admitted reinventing myself several times. And when I say “reinvent,” I’m not saying I changed myself into something new; moreover I’m saying I figured out ways to let the real me out. Most of my friends had no idea I struggled with the feeling of being a trapped Janis Joplin in a Holly Hobby world while trying to redefine the good-girl definition. It’s probably better to say Janis was suppressed. I say suppressed because…

I’m going to admit something that I don’t like to talk about: Sometimes I have a difficult time processing disappointment. Whew…thanks for letting me get that off my chest. I know, I know…who doesn’t, right? Excited to see your Sunday Boyfriend only to be stood up? Yep, I know…crummy. Looking forward to your favorite band’s concert only to come down with the flu the night before? Ah, yeah…been there, sister, it stinks! Walk into your house to find a surprise party for you, but most of your friends couldn’t make it and your significant other drunkenly says, “Well at least…

Sometimes, I am asked how often I hear from a specific, or any of my Sunday Boyfriends. (I’m thinking some of you have your favorites out there—I don’t blame you, they are pretty fantastic guys.) Typically I don’t talk to, text, email or hear from all of my Sunday Boyfriends in any given week. Once and awhile I do, but unless I’m working on a post like this, I don’t keep track. I put more of my attention on being in the moment with each of them when it happens. That said, I thought I would use this post to…

The past week I’d been working on putting words to my feelings on the recent political rhetoric. And every time I sat down to write I became upset. Upset because I was wading in the minutia of careless leaders and overwhelmed at the idea that some in power view progress as renewing 1950s thinking.  My head is swimming. I’ve been paying attention to the news. I have been paying attention to what politicians say and do. I’ve been paying attention to, and reading, what friends, and friends of friends, have been posting/linking. I have recalled the difficult, emotional conversations with…

I had an interesting conversation recently. While chatting with friends, I admitted that sometimes I get a little “spent” with writing this blog. If the subject matter is pulling at the heartstrings a bit too much, I feel it. And while my significant other knows, and sees, the effects of any and all my posts, I have rarely let others in on my own personal blog backlash. Sometimes I just need a nap. Other times I don’t want to get out of bed. So why do it? Why do I put myself through the emotional ringer and share with others?…

                                                                                                                  Photo by Daryn Nahkuda   How do I even begin to explain how much my Foodie SB means to me? From the moment he brought that coffee maker to class 20 years ago (not as a prop, or tool, but just for coffee), I knew I had to get to know that guy. He’s the old soul: a curious, intellectual introvert with a killer smile and quirky sense of humor. He took Latin in college for fun. With a guitar in his hand, he’s magic. He has a hard time expressing his personal side, but give him a pen,…

I’m not going to lie to you. I’m in a funk. And not the fun kind of she’s-a-brick-house-kind of funk. Nope. I’m talking about the crummy kind of I-want-to-jump-back-in-bed-and-throw-the-covers-over-my-head funk. Phooey. From time to time, funks happen to the best of us. And each time it happens to me, two things go through my head: What set it off? How can I shake it off? Before I get too heavy into the whats of it all, please don’t cry for me Argentina. Even though some days feel like a mad existence, truth is I have it better than most and…

When I was growing up, I got it into my head that love was measured by grand gestures. The bigger gesture translated into more love. I suppose this came from hearing all the “damsels in distress” bedtime stories in a modest environment. All those grand palaces, tiaras and Prince Charmings cloaked in the finest duds upon their pristine horses, tend to make little girls growing up in Milwaukee equate the world – a grown up world – with fairy tales. No matter how entertaining the story, I think all these tales should come with a parent follow up at the…