The story channeled down only four days following me feeling like I would never write a story on
this topic. Never say never: one of my old standbys. I cannot remember the exact details but an extremely special gentleman friend suggested that I write a story about some interactions we were having. My first thought was, “you know, you may not want to be the inspiration of a story in my hands”. For most of my male romantic interests, it is not necessarily a place you would choose to find yourself. I kept going back to the statement in my mind. Why not write a story about my sexy beast, my juicy Jesus, my Italian stallion? Quite a few nicknames have collected in the short time since we met on August 9, 2014 – at the Edmonton Folk Music Festival. My FFF – Folk Fest Friend. My new lover. My new friend. My new playmate. My inspiration. Sigh…
I consider the connection like the Pilot of a television sitcom. You shoot the first episode and then find out if the series will fly or not. Love swishing the early memories of our meeting and meetups around in my heart and mind. First of all, I did not purchase a ticket for the Festival. I was expecting to get a free pass from one of two possible friends. The same expectation last year left me wanting. In 2013, it did not work out. I was disappointed but planned to go on-site and try to luck out and find someone with an extra ticket as there so often is. Turned out once that weekend arrived, I just wasn’t in the mood. I spent 
an introspective weekend on my own, mostly hanging in my backyard enjoying some lovely summer weather. What a difference a year can make. The date was drawing nearer. Still no word on tickets. Thought of it a couple of times but tickets had long sold out. Cast it out of my mind as quickly as I could. Nearly last minute, my buddy came through with not only a pass but an all access pass. I was feeling very looked after and grateful.
Turned out I was not inspired to partake in any of the fancy extras that came with the all access pass. Just being there was the part I loved. It had been three years since I attended the Festival so it was overdue. Prior years, I had dragged kids along at times so they knew what it was all about. Kids under 11 are free. Now two of my kids would have required tickets so less of an option this time. The kids clearly vocalized that outside of the Kettle Corn, they could leave Folk Fest behind. Being the fantabulous mom that I am, that was all the nudging I needed to ensure they experienced Folk Fest fully. I vowed to buy the biggest sized Kettle Corn that same night I learned of their feelings. Saturday night here I come! I 
arrived to the site. Made my third of a nightly stop at the Beer Gardens. Beat several men off with a stick. Exchanged phone numbers with one lucky gent the prior night. Tee hee. I clearly stated it would be great to have supper sometime. I nicknamed him James Bond as he bore a likeness to the most recent actor playing James in the movies. Lots of wild stories. He asked me if I would actually phone him. I honestly stated, “I don’t know”. He applauded my honesty. Received a few calls from him that weekend. Kind of the twenty questions approach to dating. He asked me over the phone what do I look for in a romantic partner. Etc. Etc. Kind of giving the sense that he would not want to waste his time having dinner with me unless he knew a little more (or a lot?) about his odds of connecting romantically. Not a style that I endorse, by the way. He did save himself some time though. I saw him as a friend. He had a lot of those kinds of friends in his life already it became apparent – from his stories. Imagine that? Unlike myself, he was not desiring another one. Who knows? Funny that a friend, my latest singing teacher, who came along while I was talking to him, later 
conveyed that she highly recommend that I steer clear from this particular man. She was volunteering in the Beer Gardens. I guess he drinks a lot and created some problems over the weekend. Hmmm… These things have a way or working themselves out. I was certain that I would enjoy his friendship. That was not what he had in mind. No harm. No foul. Authenticity rules!
Getting back to the Kettle Corn. After the Beer Gardens, I had a very big decision to make. Do I buy the big bag of Kettle Corn now or later? Ha ha. Well. I did not know when the Kettle Corn stand would close. “Now is as good a time as later” – in this particular case it was better but I did not know that then. So many sizes of the sweet and salty popcorn to choose from. “Oh, I’ll take the biggest please.” Turns out that was a very big bag of corn. I was equipped that night with only a small backpack. I learned long ago that I am not the typical Folk Fester. There is a culture where everyone stakes their claim of land with a specific regulation sized tarp. Then most people just fart around everywhere with the beautiful comfort in knowing that their place will be ready and waiting all weekend long. Some people look at you funny if you even step a toe onto their homestead for the day. So I had made zero effort to stake my 
claim. I was flying solo so even if I had a homestead to call my own, it would not seem prudent to leave valuables behind. Hence, the oh so fashionable little backpack. Many years, I would sport the even more fashionable fanny pack. I was teased a bit for that trend. The backpack was my attempt to bring it up a notch. Geeky is as geeky does…
Backpacks can come in handy but this was not the right backpack to contain the largest bag of Kettle Corn. The treat bag was a large cylindrical shape that I attempted to store inside the backpack but one third jutted out of the top insistently – not unlike the semi-erect penis from my story “It’s All In The Jeans”. Except it was sticking all the way out. Picture duplicated for the curious. Next stop was the dancefloor to the right of the stage. It was semi crowded. My wallet was also in the pack so I just danced with it on my back. That corn attracted a fair amount of attention. One trio of women took turns performing fellatio-like motions with it. It was quite entertaining. Many commented on my popcorn. Wait for it… Wait for it…
One tall, handsome gent happened along. Not sure what he said exactly but it prompted an extremely 
genuine offer from me, “Want some? Have some.” He was not the first that I had said that to but it was with a lot more authenticity in his case. His reflex response was “no thank you”. But with only a millisecond pause was followed up with, “…perhaps I do”. Mr. Magnetic took two steps back while saying it, bringing his body in line as it was like a magnetic force was holding our faces from getting too far away from each other once the first glance was locked on. Mmmm… He had my full attention. Playful banter. Hint of an accent. “Are you French Canadian?” Yes, he replied. Felt like two minutes went by and we were exchanging phone numbers. His version, I have learned, does not match mine in the time before numbers were exchanged. What do you know? It had been decades since I had exchanged phone numbers. That weekend it was happening twice. Something in the air…
Edmonton Folk Fest
As he typed in my name, he got the accent in my first name wrong. I was quick to accuse, “you are busted! You are not French Canadian!” He just smiled. It was a while before the truth came out – raised in Brazil, left at 18 to spend a decade in Montreal and then moving to the Edmonton area. He enjoyed a significant relationship lasting over a decade with a French Canadian woman which occurred in French. His French speech is/is divine. Explained why he was frequently mistaken for French. Despite the fact that French was my first language, I am not bilingual. He was quick to detect my insecurity. Did I get sidetracked?
Once we met, we spent the rest of the night together. The sun had already set. The music was great. The 
night ended with Michael Franti and Spearhead. I had heard them at a prior Folk Fest. Purchased some of their music shortly thereafter. Awesome band live!
Michael Franti & Spearhead with Sonna Rele The song is called 11:59.
Whether this song played that night, I was not sure. Was a little distracted. There was a playful, sexy man with some sparkles painted over his cheeks – nice touch. Never got the story about those. I would imagine a hopeful lass was flirting with him and applied this beautiful effect. Thank you Darlin’. He is in his prime after all. One of many fond memories that have accumulated was watching him enter the beer gardens the next night, Sunday. We were both playing the casual game – to be expected when you first meet someone. We loosely agreed to meetup there after a short hello late afternoon. The afternoon meetup was only because some smarty pants dropped her all access pass in his car the night prior. (How could I do that? … My precious.) So when I texted that I was heading for my nightly ritual drink, he quickly replied he was 5 minutes behind me. Nice. I quickly form traditions in life. My beer gardens 
routine was to collect my drink and enjoy it at the furthermost point from service as that was one of the only areas you could see the main stage – to enjoy the tunes more live than through the speakers they had set up within. I had full and easy view of the entrance. Enter Mr. Magnetic. Somehow does not look my way. He was taking a motorcyclist’s strategy: to look where you want to go, not where you are going … see photo. Was thrilled the first time I saw him standing next to his beautiful Triumph bike. One cool night, watching him zipping on his chaps to leave sent me over the moon!
Hope to someday replace this pic with the inspired idea from that day. My lips are sealed…
Inspiration hit, let me tell you. My photo shoot involves fully clothed … and those chaps. I shared my dream with him. No reaction. Fair enough…
I shake my head now … OK. Breathe.
Back to Sunday night: watching him walk through the crowd towards the service area was sublime. I wish I could show the video clip. His posture. Quiet masculine confidence in his gait. Beautiful silhouette from behind. His black sleeveless Blues Festival T-shirt – the result of a cute shirt exchange the day prior with a fellow Folk Fester– showing a healthy musculature. Shoulders that go on and on. Blue jeans with sports sandals. Sporting a backwards baseball cap. Seeming the perfect combination of boyish playfulness not taking away from all that is masculine man. Could not take my eyes off of him. Clearly, I was not the only one when I somehow managed to pay 
attention. Forget calling out, “here I am”. Forget texting to get his attention. Just sat back and enjoyed the view. “Live in the now”. Like a fine wine, I was just rolling that experience around in my mind. Mmmmm… “Yes, this is a good year.” His essence was taken in using senses I did not know I had. Don’t know how else to describe it. Wow! Liking. This. Guy.
I was pulled out of La La land by his text: “Guess I don’t see you. Will keep moving.” Foreshadowing??
There was no hesitation. I texted back: “Where are you?” When he answered. I immediately went there. He was surrounded by three very young ladies…and one young man. Slight discomfort on my part. One of the ladies wanted him badly. She was beautiful, inside and out. Should mention that at this point, I did not know how old he was. When we exchanged phone numbers, I asked his age. He asked how old I thought he was. We repeated the same questions reversed. He guessed 35 for me. I was more timid giving a range 25-35. Answers were never sorted out. Seeing him in this young circle had me thinking. Whoops! Maybe he was 25 or so. I sat in my discomfort. Let us not jump to any conclusions. How did I feel? Very taken and interested in this man of unknown age. “Let the moment teach me”. He does not leave me hanging too long before he declares, “let’s go”…and he meant he and I. Promising. Everyone gets up to hug goodbye. The interested girl was 
nearly 6 feet tall – wow! Loved that I hugged her extra long and whispered in her ear that she was beautiful in and out – which was my authentic sense. I had been on the receiving end of this type of action. Quite effective. You kind of fall in love with the girl…and you leave her guy alone. Just sayin’. If you are looking for options. Mr. Magnetic is 6 foot 2 so maybe he might prefer taller women? I am 5 foot 7. See how insecure I could be? I felt it rush through me. Not for long though. Things have a way of sorting themselves out. Next minute, I was being introduced to a close friend of his … that he was sure would get along with me well. He was right. They work together and displayed their lovely friendship to me. We talked about Ecuador, a place I had visited in 2012. His friend was very interested in Ecuador as a place to retire – being 55 years old. OK, now my new friend seemed more 35 years old all of a sudden. These two spent a fair amount of time together outside of work. I was enjoying this sleuth game I was playing. How old was this most eligible bachelor? Before long it came out that Mr. Magnetic had experience with Ayahuasca – as I had. Sooooo interesting. What have we here now? That might explain a few things.
Maybe I skipped over some Saturday night stuff. Who me?
Once we got our introductions and phone number exchanges out of the way, we jumped right into having some fun. Dancing. Flirting. Teasing. Goofing around. It was not long before we were kissing. So good. We felt a bit cramped on the public dancefloor area. We created our own private dance area out of the way of things. Now we were in our own little world. The crowd around us disappeared. I will always 
remember his bold moves. One of which: He forcibly grabbed a handful of my hair with his right hand, repeated with his left on the other side of my head and then kissed me the way I have always wanted to be kissed. I. Was. Lost. In the best imaginable way. We were starring in our own movie. Playful adolescent pups. I guess we were putting on a show for a lot of people. All kinds of acrobatic dancing and playing and kissing and hugging and talking. To me, it felt like it was just us. The throngs of people nearby just melted away.
I’m Alive (Life Sounds Like) Michael Franti & Spearhead
So as the end neared, he suggested we go somewhere. I laugh when I recall my uncertainty. Not jumping at yes somehow. I asked, “where would we go?” I guess that was my playing hard to get. Ha ha 
to that. No further specification was discussed. He noted that I was parked off site, he was parked within walking distance. He gently stated that he would drive me to my car. OK. We were just like longstanding boyfriend and girlfriend walking along the darkened streets with his arm around me. He got a little turned around having trouble finding his car. The long walk was enjoyable. No rush to end. Long story short, we spent a fair amount of time in that car that night. I was again reminded that there was a God…
Somehow my precious all access pass does not leave the car with me. What do you know about that?
Getting back to Sunday, the last day of the Festival: last two acts were Phosphorescent and Blue Rodeo. I was inspired to see Phosphorescent but ended up missing it once I left my usual spot in the Beer Gardens to connect with Mr. Magnetic. Slightly dismayed. No enthusiasm for Blue Rodeo despite liking their music back in the day. The performance 
matched my expectation. We left early. He must be just like me because we had already established our routine. He again drove me to my vehicle. From the prior night’s experience, we decided to visit in my more spacious vehicle this time. Tee hee. I have to laugh as I recall that I stated to myself, “I am not jumping into bed with the next guy I meet that I am interested in”. You know by now that I am a powerful being (as we all are). When I declare something… so it is. Well there definitely was no bed in sight, I assure you. True to my word … as always. Gotta laugh…
Feeling pretty intimately connected by the end of this night. We had never been on a formal date together. Turns out, we both agreed that traditional dates were not our preferred style of connecting. It was time to ask again, “How old are you?” I was holding my breath. I wanted the answer to be over 30. I was still unsure. His answer: 36!!! Yeah for me! I could let out my breath. More comfortable than I was expecting. Well preserved at his tender young age even. Really never heard his truest reaction to my answer: 47. Seemed this matched the prior trend for both of us. Amazing. A saying I often repeat to myself, the concept introduced to me by a spiritual teacher Bentinho Massaro, if you have an inspiration to do something, somewhere in the world will be a match to that inspiration. A comforting thought, to my mind.
Sound of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel
Interlude:
Marc Quinn, co-founder of Turn On London, talks with Alex Howard about the practice of Orgasmic Meditation (OM) and specifically how we can have more authentic communication in our relationships.
This video really speaks to my experiential learning in the dating game of 2014. Authenticity is what I want. I noticed many templates being
Most inspiring couple I had met in 2014 … in Abadiania, Brazil
used as I played with the boys on the Plenty of Fish (POF) dating website. So glad I did though. I would never have been prepared for a real man like Mr. Brazil without noticing what was not working. Throwing out all the old templates. On my own, I decided that I would ask three questions while dating any man to guide my behavior:
What do I want right now?
Am I having fun?
How do I feel? Past history often found me wringing my hands wondering how the gentleman felt. As much as it was relevant, it was not as relevant as how I felt.
Slightly simplistic. But in the early dating stages, anything else is a total bore. So many people seem to be so ahead of 
themselves with the twenty questions etc. I had a funny experience with another writer back in the POF days. He only wrote in poetry – all questions and answers. Quite unique. I was always drawn to people expressing themselves fully. Quirky and unique style: a bonus. I recommended he read my writing. Do opposites attract? In that case, no. He was repelled. I laughed. And vowed that I do not want to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes. I must be my fullest self. That is the only way that I will believe in the affections of the suitor. If they do not know the real me, they cannot love the real me. Seemed every romantic movie ever made is based on this theme. Do not act like your true self. Almost lose the love interest…until you start acting like your real self. Yet, couples play that one out over and over. Sadly, myself included …
Stuck In A Loop by Randler Music (Cucumberdwarfs on itunes)
Roller Coaster Highway, Tulsa Oklahoma
This man did a lot with the loop – not unlike most people.
Latch by Disclosure feat. Sam Smith.
Inspiring lyrics exemplifying the old template: Now I got you in my space.
I won’t let go of you.
Got you shackled in my embrace.
I’m latching onto you.
Getting back to the messages in the Marc Quinn interview:
Orgasmic Meditation is a practice that I endorse despite never experiencing it myself. Just makes perfect sense to 
me. Different from so many other therapies, it is designed to tune you in to your own energetic flows and feelings. Nothing to do with words or concepts. When a couple engages in the regular 15 minute practice of one stroking the clitoris of the other gently and deliberately without view to an outcome, the two people gain experiential learning in connection, intimacy and feeling. Lends itself to encourage us to drop templates/expectations for couple activities and get outside the comfort zone into authenticity. Marc describes it as “feelings over formula”. What is the next right thing? No script for being real. People are afraid of communicating in a vulnerable, real way. The interviewer, Alex Howard, described how it is very liberating and satisfying to express in a real way. Even when it is not received the way you want it. You can express yourself, get somewhat of a rejection but you haven’t rejected yourself.
Alex goes on to ask, “What supports having the courage to express in that way?”
“How did you cross that bridge of uncertainty in saying what is true?”
(Disabled Angel speaking now) A gamechanger for me was adopting the mantra Embrace Uncertainty. In dating it is more true than in any other realm of life. Listen to me now, believe me later…
The energy of needing certainty is a natural repellent to the opposite sex. The story is way more interesting when you embrace the “I have no idea if he/she likes me”…what do I want right now? What do I want to do right now? I would argue, who cares if he/she likes you?
Do you like you? Who are you? Much better questions to be asking yourself. When you have those answers, you live authentically and see who shows up. There’s your man, or woman, whatever the case may be. A much more empowering and empowered way to view the dating game. Games are fun! I add: when played with integrity. If you are not having fun, you are not doing it right.
In the last four minutes of the interview, Marc talks 
about how connected he feels and thus has overflow to share with anyone he comes into contact with. He is confident to be authentic, even when blushing and sweating when nervous. I have felt this in my own life too. A Beautiful Truth when you can serve from the saucer … because the teacup is full and overflowing. The OM (Orgasmic Meditation) saying of Truth is verbal orgasm points to the fact that when we speak truth and avoid putting up the masks, we have more energy in general. The orgasmic meditation can facilitate this but is not essential to the fundamental connection with yourself, your truth. You are no longer using any energy to keep things suppressed – taking the lid off.
(My words)Sexual energy can unblock areas that are blocked. Some therapies are more desirable than others…
Story continues:
Thank heavens for Edmonton’s many festivals. The Blues Festival was the following weekend. Mr. Brazil was 
volunteering. Talk of connecting after his Saturday shift did not happen, fell through on the fly. I simply tapped in to determine if this had any meaning to his interest in me. Received a no to that question. I realized that my intuition was so much sharper. Really did not need to know more. He had written a text early in the week, touching base. He was clear to include that it was only because my name came up in discussion with his friend – the one that I met. There is strength to acting casual. Heaven knows that I learned the hard way when you get too excited about things, it often leads to disappointment. Somehow, I knew that I would see a lot more of him. Not to worry myself with the details. After the mini standup on Saturday – my guess it was his subconscious testing me, no big – he made up for it on the next Monday. Loose plans were made to see each other that day. It ended up perfectly: I was just leaving the Fringe Festival where I had seen a show. He had just finished a meeting- later learned it was a Spiritual gathering. He texted. Instantly, I pulled over my truck to answer. Before I answered, he was phoning. Loved his daring, for the early dating game, move to just say. Cut the chase with the texts. Are you free now? Would love to meet somewhere. Yes and Yes. Even when intuition is there to guide you. Some 3D confirmation is always welcome.
I had not attended the Fringe Festival in over 15 years. I was hooked. Many logistical improvements enabled me to join in. The history of long lining up to get tickets turned me off. The busy Doctor had no time for that.
Ain’t Nobody Got Time For Dat Love this silly little viral video from yesteryear…
Funny that I had not thought earlier to join in attending Fringe Festival. Now that I was a writer, seeing live theatre performances sounded like a fantastic idea. I scoured the schedule and vowed to see a short list of them – several relevant to my 
own creative pursuits. The following Friday, I saw an improv act with Mr. Brazil. Started to notice that I was scared. Just seeing him sitting beside me in the audience. I could hardly look. Just melting in his presence. Feeling so goofy. This felt completely foreign to me. Except for the goofy part. Yet I loved it wholeheartedly. I was sitting next to the strongest magnet on earth and I was focusing my energy on holding my metallic mask looking forward. How weird was that? The improv performers were interacting with the audience using Twitter – so interesting. I was trying desperately to be funny. Falling down pretty flat. When they asked for people to tweet in their worst vacation destination ever, I instantly thought of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. Mine was picked. It was my birthplace and always seemed to get a laugh. Not that night though. 
Didn’t happen in these performers hands. I received a reply to my tweet: Boooooooooo. That hurt my feelings…
Went out for Bubble Tea after. The same place my daughter and her boyfriend go almost weekly after swim team practice over the summer. I know, because I am usually the one picking them up to drive them home. I was feeling 17 years old again myself. The only traditional date for Mr. Brasil and I – so far. Definitely sensed his discomfort with it. My take: he was making an effort. Nice.
After that, it was always going to one or the other house. We had graduated rather quickly. First he stopped by my house. The night he drove me wild in his motorcycle gear. Then I was honored with a casual invitation to his acreage. Beautiful spot he had developed there … with his own hands. He, as my Dad before him, was a carpenter. Love that! The next week was his Birthday. That was when the authenticity level got turned up. Templates were thrown away. I was completely overwhelmed at how much I enjoyed trying on my new style. What do I want to do? In the context of
trusting that he is asking himself the same question.
These scenes probably better in movie format but here goes.
Starts with my playful text asking if he needs any help celebrating his Birthday and does he like cake. Wondered about baking him a cake.
He answers: love cake. You coming over?
Me: If invited, yes.
He: Only if wearing animal print…
He: …and high heels.
Instant elation. First thought. Go shopping? No. I have something better in mind…
Generally, I have re-evaluated the customs and rituals of my people. That includes Birthday celebrations. I have enjoyed decorating cakes as a hobby since I was 16 years old. I have a chocolate cake recipe that always receives rave reviews. I decide that I would love to bake him a cake. And I did. Just following our loose arrangements, I had to finish decorating the cake I made for my daughter, Birthday a week before my Juicy Jesus. I stopped at Bernard Callebaut for the lovely chocolate shavings they sell. I joyfully purchase chocolate for the four Virgos in my life. I celebrated my daughter, sister-in-law and brother’s birthday in one fell swoop. Jesus was the fourth. That started a little gift bag of consummables for the sexy Birthday boy: My favorite Ageless Xtra juice, a bottle of wine, pink himalayan sea salt (from Costco – so romantic) 
along with dark and milk chocolate formed in symbolic shapes. Could not help but notice my enthusiasm. I always say that I am nothing if not enthusiastic. So it was with giftbag and cake taker in tow that I drove the 35 minutes out to the acreage. Unlike my habit, I did not speed that day. I took no chances to be seen by anyone outside of Jesus wearing my favorite animal print lingerie nightie … with my sexiest high heel shoes, also animal print with orange (favorite color) trim sporting the Jessica Simpson label. Sometimes $30 goes a long way. Seemed prudent to throw on my short black leather belted jacket just in case. He later told me that the risqué look would fit right into any restaurant in Montréal but I am not so sure I agree. He wishes.
I had only been to the acreage once before. I noted there was a gate – straddled with structural walls with red tin roofing, lovely touch, to match the roofing of all the buildings on site. Wow! The first time, the gate was wide open. This time it was closed. What? I do not know what I am dealing with. Get out assuming this was a manual operation. First glance offers no clues how to open it. I look and see Jesus in the distance – tan work pants and no shirt. In my own movie again…. Starting to like it here.
Carpenters … are sexy
It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas by Harry Connick Jr.
Love Harry Connick Jr.! Sometimes I shuffle all my songs on my iphone, needing to skip over a Christmas tune every now and then. This one came on and got stuck in my head weeks earlier. Everyday is Christmas – in my world – so I often sing to myself just the first two lines “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas … Everywhere you go” any time of year. Echoing my belief that we all have Christ-like potential. So when my Juicy Jesus has a birthday, it is just as much to celebrate as our well known Jesus Christ’s birthday – Christmas. The song would benefit from a complete lyrical overhaul by the Disabled Angel, but I feel lazy today. Maybe come back to it … someday.
Back to the story: Shirtless welcome. Smooth operation.
I am delighted … and just a wee self-conscious. Was my nightie thing really a good idea? Yes, play it bold. He was holding the remote: open sesame. Smooth, slow motion of the gate opening: I am mesmerized. Slick operator… I am 
turned on in so many ways. Canadian Tire is a store I adore. Automatic gate opener: meow. Especially when there is a shirtless, sexy beast operating the controls. Now do not get the wrong idea here. I see him in many dimensions. But I am not blind! So now I get to use some of the long ago skills learned in modeling class – how to get back into your red SUV wearing high heels and a very short nightie and still look sexy. My sense – I nailed it! Years of practice afterall. Ha ha. Maybe I flatter myself.
I was welcomed at my vehicle door. His enthusiasm matched my own. I had hard evidence.
Here I Am by Fred Everything
So somehow the Birthday party for two turned fairly quickly into a pyjama party. God showed up that night … a few times … of course. Mmmm… We never did end up touching 
the cake but it was enjoyed by him slowly over the week. There is an old fashioned woman in me, I cannot deny. Satisfying a man’s stomach +/- sweet tooth is a simple pleasure. As a marketing strategy: genius. Daily reminding until the cake was done. He chose not to share aside from one piece with a coworker so it lasted a while.
The casual tone between us when we were not in each other’s presence continued. Texting seemed such a favorite for men in my dating experiences of 2014. In my first dating phase way back, telephone was king.
Text Message Confusion by Key & Peele
I see myself in the Black guy: kind of Forrest Gumpish. Fantastic example of how your perception may not equal reality – especially where human to human communication is concerned. Good thing to keep in mind as we roar along in the great green earth day by day. I have text message confusion with almost anyone I use this form of communication with. Crazy… Texting just is not my forte. I try to sway 
towards voice communication as much as possible. I am surprised how seldom I use it despite my preference. Perhaps this is my disability. When it comes to dating, I just read texts and I can think of five different ways it could be interpreted. I usually default to I have not a clue what the intention was. I likely overly lean on those three questions: What do I want right now? How do I feel? Then I wonder what would be the most fun way to interpret the message. I have not really had feedback but I enjoy it. I occasionally lean on the higher intelligence. Recall one really cool incident with that. I was getting such mixed messages from Mr. Magnetic. Certainly, when we were in each other’s presence it was clear. When receiving those pesky texts, I was left scratching my head. I asked for a sign from above. I received my answer in the form of a song, as occurs regularly enough for me.
It’s a match! He stated that he will not chase women. Kind of getting that. As strong as 
things began, we were cruising at a much lower altitude after a fun start. I am completely confused by men. I wave the white flag. Good thing I love my own company as much as I do. I am so fond of my enthusiasm. Not to everyone’s taste is my sense.
Bottom line: I am having difficulty with the authentic communication. C’est la vie… The Network appears to be quite tight-lipped about whether the series will get picked up.
I will continue attendance in my lessons at the School of Life.
P.S. – I have full faith that anything meant for me will come my way. Anything not meant for me will fall away. Let go of control. Go with the flow. Love, Peace, Harmony have no obstacles with this mindset. Follow your arrow along the way. If upset and drama show up, look carefully where you had expectations or are trying to control another person. In a Nutshell statement.