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C me naked? CUL8R: Sexting a single mom

Categories: Colleagues and Comrades, Fighting the Stereotype, Tentative Steps

30 comments

1) SINGLE NETWORKING

I find that a lot of us Re-Singled Folk turn to Facebook and other social networking sites to expand our sphere of friends again. It makes sense. If we’ve been in a relationship for years, really “in” it, we may have forgotten to surface for some time. Our friendships may have evaporated like a vodka gimlet on Aunt Betty’s lips. No! you gasp! Not I!

Ah, friend, the unexamined single life is not worth living. I’m not convinced the examined one is worth the trouble either, but, anyhoo. Maybe you were just quietly, modestly, demurely coupled, like my idol, Caroline Ingalls. Maybe you kept in touch with all of your friends — single or married, kids or no kids — and did your part in life. You smooched when it was smoochin’ time and milked when it was milkin’ time and shot bears when it was bear-shootin’ time, amen.

But consider this: Most of us are no Caroline Ingalls, sirs and mesdames! Face it, many of us who were in partnerships left irritated friends by the wayside over the years. Once, we were the ones saying about our single pals, If only they could be happy, like us!

Perhaps we spewed out a sickening stream of glossy holiday photocards that marked the highlights of our perfect marriage (or our wondrous partnership or our gorgeous Wiccan polyamorist commune):

“HONEYMOONING IN TUSCANY!!! WE’RE JUST SO BLESSED!!!”

“JUST ADOPTED FIVE MORE BOYS FROM HAITI AND NAMED THEM ALL ANGELINO!!! SO BLESSED!!!”

“LOVE, LUST AND LIGHT!!! BLESSINGS FROM US ALL!!!!!!! VIXEN, HECATE, AMARAH, CEDWEN & FRIGGA”

I personally think, now, that each time a newlywed sighs with happiness, God eats a kitten. But that’s just me, just this week. Check back next week, when I might be back to Hope Is the New Black.

They tell me even chimps can talk, with sign language. Let’s see how much the chimp feels like talking after his divorce! BADABOOM! The past few years, I’ve been hiding out on one three-sq-ft stretch of quilt in my bedroom. Finding friends again online — especially ones who are single by choice, or who have gone through divorce — has been pretty helpful. The empowered singles empower like Energizer bunnies on meth. The divorcees recommend support sites and tell me life stinks before it gets better. If anybody’s fidgeting and rolling their eyes at my tale of suckiness, I can’t see them. And the best part? These friends all make me want to sit up straight and wear underwear again. Which brings me to the downside of single social networking, WTUCO: When The Underwear Comes Off.

2) THE DANGERS OF PREMATURE SEXTATATION

Dear Guy I Knew When We Were 14 and Never Even Couples-Skated With,

Remove thy tweets and Friendtacles! Cease and desist! Close the laptop and spend some quality time in YourSpace, speed-dating your trouserworm!

First, you find me on Facebook. I was down with that. You, boy, you were from my hometown, and seemed far enough away in time and location to be harmless. We had suffered through the same crappy grade school for eight years. You’re even behind me in line in my First Communion photos. I figured I’d friended people for less mojo, so, heck, sure.

We exchanged cursory hello emails. Nothing to indicate that you type with your pants off. When I found out you were single too, with daughters, I thought, Ah, he gets it, he knows the life.

New email. Click. “I AM COMING TO YOUR TOWN C U NAKED I AM VERY PERSUASIVE.”

Wha? Oh. Ew.

I was suddenly 14 again, except suddenly my skinny daddy was real big and tattooed and drove a Dodge pickup truck and had a shotgun pointed at you and was telling you to put your pants back on, and I was yelling real loud, THAT’S WHAT YOU GIT! YOU AIN’T EVER GONNA GIT NO COUPLES SKATE, JOHNNY DAWSON!

And then I was 39 again, and my head snapped back into place, and I thought, It’s not just the newlyweds. God also eats a kitten every time Johnny Dawson texts ‘C U NAKED’.

I may be single, and you may be single, Johnny Dawson, but ain’t nobody gonna C nobody naked here. Ain’t nobody gonna C nobody, no time.

100 feet away or the dogs come out to play,

The Nice Girl, 14 or 39, Single or Not

3) EPILOGUE, OR WHY IT ALWAYS GOES BACK TO CAROLINE INGALLS

I told him his “C U NAKED” was nuts, and no, thanks, I didn’t ever want to see him, or his nuts. He didn’t apologize. I unfriended, defriended, and would have deloused, degermed and decootied if I could have. If he had come to my town, my giganto-dogs would have eaten him, and then I would have deloused, degermed and decootied them. So creepy crisis mostly averted.

Until he tried to re-friend me on Facebook, and began following me on Twitter. Click: block. Click: block. Click: go back in time, become Caroline Ingalls, do not pass go, do not enter the 20th century, don’t even THINK about the 21st. It’s a real doozy.

I’d give my right arm for a barn-raising with the Ingalls. (Although I don’t suppose a woman with a missing arm would be a real sought-after guest at that particular event.) What’s happened in your single social networking world that’s made you wish for simpler days?



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30 comments so far...

  • Love, lust and light to you, Jenn. And kudos for blocking Johnny Dawson, it makes me sick to the stomach to think that there are actually guys like that out there.

    Stine  |  November 11th, 2009 at 7:39 am

  • HA! Great post, Jenn… we are your pookies and we shall goest wherever you say goest to readeth. Or something like that…

    Bethany  |  November 11th, 2009 at 8:24 am

  • So funny! And - EW!

    Rachel  |  November 11th, 2009 at 8:30 am

  • Caroline Ingalls was a little too tame for me. I prefer Laura - and her somewhat unpredictable, always entertaining, romance with Almanzo. FB is the new frontier, and there will always be dangers like Johnny Dawson on new frontiers. Onward and upward!

    Bridge  |  November 11th, 2009 at 9:17 am

  • My ex-husband wants to be my facebook friend. No. Srsly.

    LD  |  November 11th, 2009 at 9:57 am

  • “I personally think, now, that each time a newlywed sighs with happiness, God eats a kitten. ”

    This has got to be one of the best sentences ever written. :)

    eve  |  November 11th, 2009 at 11:05 am

  • WWCID? Next time I’m in a pickle, I must remember to ask myself what Caroline Ingalls would do!

    Enjoyed the read.

    Momsy  |  November 11th, 2009 at 11:32 am

  • Do you hear that sound? God slurping up kittens! Even though I am happily married, in an eyes-wide-open kind of way, I love your writing and am happy to see you anywhere.

    6512 and growing  |  November 11th, 2009 at 12:56 pm

  • Ew. Grown men with children– who you knew when they were children– texting bizarre, awkward sexts. How traumatic.

    I would love to be a woman who smooched when it was smoochin’ time and shot bears when it was bear shootin’ time. That is a great way to sum up what I’m aiming for, in life.

    Kristin  |  November 11th, 2009 at 12:56 pm

  • Once? When Pa was out hunting a bear that’d been bothering the cows? Some natives came around and ate all our preserves.

    Swistle  |  November 11th, 2009 at 1:29 pm

  • OY!! i can still see that picture! enough with that moroon already!

    BEGONE!

    love you, as always :)

    xoxoxoxoxoxol

    Lisa  |  November 11th, 2009 at 2:21 pm

  • But Caroline almost amputated her own leg, so I think they would even embrace the limbless.

    Strange fact, btw, when you Google “little house on the prairie leg amputation” you get 3,500 results. More than you would expect, no?

    Can you tell I’m working at home today?

    Professional Critic  |  November 11th, 2009 at 3:35 pm

  • I love how you get funny down to the tiniest details, Jenn. Brava! (That’s congratulatory in Italian, not telling your bra to go in French, so no need to let your dogs chew on your computer for me.)

    Noelle  |  November 11th, 2009 at 3:38 pm

  • Looove Caroline Ingalls! I agree, let’s get back to the simpler times. Reading your work makes me glad we’re in the 21st century, though :)

    caro  |  November 11th, 2009 at 6:14 pm

  • What is it with grown men sexting? Yuck! I did not give you my number so you could do that…immediate delete.

    Nikki  |  November 11th, 2009 at 6:31 pm

  • Oh, that leg amputation (almost) episode! *shudder* Great but DISTURBING!!!!!!

    Amy  |  November 11th, 2009 at 8:04 pm

  • Some men are so stupid. I’m guessing that worked for him once, and he can’t stop trying. Your Fabulous, Jenn! Wish I could introduce you to some of my guy friends!

    Yvonne  |  November 11th, 2009 at 8:27 pm

  • And, I think facebook makes obsessive stalking of ex-es (be they husbands, boyfriends, friends, or coworkers) way too easy. That can’t be healthy.

    Terrill  |  November 11th, 2009 at 9:12 pm

  • YUCK!! I think Carolyn would have taken the shotgun down from the pegs over that one…

    Despite the appeal of centuries past (and I am a huge Ingalls fan) without 21st century media we wouldn’t hear your voice. I know I’ll trade the perils of the present age to keep reading. However, not sure that I’ll even venture fully into the world of social networking after reading this post….what an utter slimeball. His poor daughters.

    julie  |  November 12th, 2009 at 9:28 am

  • Ick! I hope he’s not reading about himself. Here. Right now. NAKED.

    patois  |  November 12th, 2009 at 9:46 am

  • I think facebok has actually decreased some stalking. When I wrote on my blog I knew the ex was reading and then bringing it up in real world conversations. Now that we are all on facebook instead no one can read the other’s updates. Much healthier!!

    alisa  |  November 12th, 2009 at 12:02 pm

  • Love it. Glad to see the expanding horizons.

    Lisa  |  November 12th, 2009 at 3:47 pm

  • Oh, I shutter to think what my social life would be like if my husband decided to leave me for another woman. Or decided he’s not into being married anymore. Or woke up gay.

    I wasn’t the most socially-mature dater. If I had any Johnny runs ins, I wouldn’t know what to do. I’d feel like a flat-chested 14 year-old again. Just adding 25 years. And a half-cup size.

    god bless. Hire a pool boy instead.

    Mrs. Q.  |  November 12th, 2009 at 3:51 pm

  • “God eats a kitten.” HA! SO wrong. SO funny. LOLZ. This, from a cat person.

    milosz  |  November 12th, 2009 at 5:07 pm

  • You rock, girlfriend!!!

    Mater Inter Alia  |  November 12th, 2009 at 9:19 pm

  • Clearly, you get more interesting photo cards than I do.

    Vikki  |  November 13th, 2009 at 10:47 am

  • Ugh- you did the right thing. His lack of grammar alone would have been a deal breaker for me.

    reggiemomma  |  November 13th, 2009 at 11:56 am

  • “C U naked” from a grown man is so sad.

    tina  |  November 13th, 2009 at 12:03 pm

  • Damn, that’s funny. Or at least I hope you are finding it funny now, having wiped your monitor with high grade disinfectant and shrivelled the shrimp in his knickers. I don’t understand men, I guess, because I cannot imagine doing the equivalent.
    Loving your post.

    Mary G  |  November 13th, 2009 at 9:04 pm

  • “THAT’S WHAT YOU GIT! YOU AIN’T EVER GONNA GIT NO COUPLES SKATE, JOHNNY DAWSON!”

    LMAO, I am wiping tears from my eyes. Oh, this column looks good on you, Jenn. In the words of the great Mariah Carey, love you more.

    Julie Kang  |  November 14th, 2009 at 5:46 pm

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