the reason

The Dilletante’s Ball

So here it is– my sins laid out in rigorous fashion for public consumption and the topic of choice, for the moment is this:

How does a semi-smart know-it-all (who knows hardly anything), 30-something woman-child find love on her terms while finding purpose and a path that suits her?

I guess the answer will lie in these pages, but may not truly be revealed till hindsight kicks in…months, maybe years later. I will be chronicling my foray into this beautiful struggle, gathering, along the way, excerpts of wisdom from pals, experience, friends, exes, lovers, random’s, one-night-stands, strangers and the like, to reach some sense of complicit indifference or unrevealed enlightenment. With the help of my thesaurus, poems and rants I will find the answers I am searching for.

But first, a pledge. In late 2005 I honored a promise I had made to myself. I vowed to let life happen, to be open to what comes and to throw away childish things. I vowed to find love, put down my guard, break through some of the walls I had built around myself and let go of things that I vigilantly attached myself to that were holding me back. And I did. Well one out of four.

My Pledge: (as of 01/13/0200

Accept what the universe offers without protesting (too much), let down my guard, put away childish things and be accountable. That way when I find a focus, I can move into it with ease as opposed to resorting to self-sabotage and acerbic self-deprecation.

I am a LATE BLOOMER— In all intents and purposes of the term. As such, I must maintain an uncomfortable honesty. (Refer to the poem on my About Me page)

September 17^th, 2006, a slightly drunk, capricious but determined thirty-two year old finally dove-head first- into the shallow waters of carnal knowledge and found her overcomplicated womanhood much more simplified. With one overnight indulgence that lasted 1 year 6 months 3 weeks and 13 days, I became a woman. Most, might wait till prom or college, maybe even their 8^th grade dance to take care of this right of passage. I waited for 6 shots of Jameson at Danny’s, a highly frustrated rant in a dark corner and a 13 minute cab ride to Ravens to get mine!

It took me (I mean us) 13 hours of trying, but finally after years of sublimation, I was a woman. Maybe not respectable, but a woman none the less.

And the popper of my proverbial cherry… a six foot eight, Dungeons and Dragons loving, World of the Warcraft playing-dork; a gentle barbarian named (to protect the not so innocent) Wheat Toast. Yes, for lack of a better replacement for what he really called himself, let us just call him Wheat Toast.

I have to admit this was the moment it all changed for me and my adult life truly kicked into high gear. Not to mention my new-found lascivious nature. Yep, I am the horny girl about town asking the questions that obliterate my once naïve and archaic ideals of female sexuality and perversion. And I kind of like it!

Welcome toThe Dilletante’s Ball!