Days of Grace (I forget which number)

Recently I have been graced by:

YOU

Yes you!
You all rock. I have gotten so many emails from you all wondering where I'm at and if I'm OK. I assure you that I am here, alive and well. Things are just hunky dory. For some reason I haven't been feeling very writer-ish lately. I'm hoping that changes soon because I do miss you all.

Just a real quick run down on what I should be blogging about soon:
1. Buffett and I broke up and went to dinner together anyway
2. My new furry coat
3. I got to go to a taping of Oprah (yes, there were prizes!)
4. The British lady who made me hit a construction barrel
5. Dueling Pianos and the "blind" date
6. The guy who wanted to pay me to rub his body
7. The guy who really really really wants to hear my voice
8. Making random friends
9. The Things and crap this parenting gig is HARD.
10. The guy who looks 24 but isn't and has the most phallic last name ever.
(Phallic like COCK9INCHES phallic. Really, I'm so not kidding!)

SMOOCH! Love you guys!

Wordless Wednesday - Subliminally Speaking

This was sent to me by one of my bestest girlies. She's the one who gave me the rusty vagina tool for my birthday. Damn I love that woman!

Hot and sweaty

Life is a lot like sex. You get this glamorous image in your head that is most likely based on movies and books. Things should look this way and smell that way. It should sound like this and taste like that. But real life and real sex are never actually like the movies. It's hot and sweaty and messy and complicated.

It's also scary because there are no promises. No guarantees. No promises of a happy ending. We fall down. And it hurts.

The guy I've been seeing, the one with out a name - oh hell, he really does need a name otherwise this all just gets confusing. Buffett. Stacie suggested it and she's never steered me wrong yet. So, that's it. I hereby christen the hot eagle scout architect Buffett. - Buffett has butterflies dancing a jig in my stomach and thinking about him at the most random moments brings a goofy smile to my face.

Friday, UPSGuy brought me flowers at work and asked me out. I thanked him but declined. I don't regret it. But the more I think I might kinda like Buffett, the more I want to chase down that UPS truck and... and... and anything. Because at the moment, anything would be less scary than getting hot and sweaty again.

Days of Grace: 41 - A weekend to remember

1. Date night wherein I actually had him all to myself. No children, parents, brothers, sisters, neighbors, crowds of drunken people.


2. Conversation that never seemed to end. There was too much to say and share until we didn't really want to talk anymore.


3. Hanging from a ladder with a chain saw and Thing2 who made sure I didn't fall and cut my leg off. You can actually see my house from the road now. And the sunlight reaches my windows. Hooray for sunlight.


4. The lake - boat - cliff diving - tubing - wake boarding - games - food - beer - sunset - sunrise - amazing friends.


5. Sitting at a picnic table with the wind coming off the lake and a live band playing. Everyone relaxing with a beer. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me up to dance with him. No one else was dancing. I got to be THAT girl.


6. Being completely unable to settle on a name for him because every aspect is that great.


7. HappyHourSue who made my crabby exhausted ass giggle this morning with:

(If you can't see the video, try THIS link)

French Bulldog Can't Roll Over - watch more funny videos

A do-over of sorts

Some of you later-comers (which is better than premature comers. I think.) have complained that YouTube took down the video from this post. Well have no fear, the internet is a wonderful thing and I am your goddess of odd cartoon porn.


EMBED-OH MY GOD! WATCH. - Watch more free videos

Happy Friday Y'all

I hate the word Butch

Ever since I moved to Madison I have been longing to go to the local hookah bar. Seriously, it's a hookah bar. How fun would that be? Tons of fun, I was convinced. I mentioned it to at least 20 different people saying that it's something I wanted to experience just once. I'm that kind of person. I love the random experiences in life and I want to try them all.

Saturday I had my chance and it turned out to be more awesome than I ever imagined. You see, it's not just a hookah bar, it's actually a gay hookah bar. A gay hookah bar with karaoke. A gay hookah bar with karaoke during Pride weekend. Fucking Awesome!

I was out with my cousin who was in pimp mode once again and after consulting with some of his lesbian friends on where he might find me some pretty ladies the Hookah came up. And so we went. On the drive over he kept trying to figure out what my type was. Butch or Lipstick? I didn't like the sound of either one. Lipstick just makes me think of overly slicked up high maintenance girlie girls. So not my thing. But butch? No. I want a woman who is a woman, not a man with an extra set of lips. What I discovered that night was that a gay man thinks that damn near every gay woman is butch. Of course every gay man I have ever met has been at least a little bit queenie in my opinion too. We all have our bias. But when I asked him how he would describe me and he came back with "a very feminine butch" I decided that I had absolutely had enough of that word. It's not complimentary. It brings to mind women who look more like men. Women who spit and wear flannel and don't shave. Nope. That word is officially being banned from my vocabulary. I have never been a fan of the word cunt. I have officially placed butch right up there with it. Do. Not. Like.

I met some fantastic people that night, gay and straight. I laughed so hard I almost cried many many times over. I cannot even begin to explain all the awesome of the night except to say that it contained big burly bear type men in teeny tiny Richard Simmons shorts calling my daah-llling.

Also, I have two dates this week. YAY

Wordless Wednesday

Because I don't have the words right now, Go HERE and HERE.

Days of Grace:40 - The Steph is an impatient bitch installment

At least I think this is what she wanted when she yelled at me YELLEDATMEEEE!!! on Facebook.

So a Gracey update you will have.

1. A BBQ with the Things, an ex-sister-in-law, the Ex, his girlfriend and her gaggle of children. I asked him to bring me out my drink but he forgot and she yelled at him saying "The woman needs her drink, Man!" It was awesome. Also, her young children got all crazy and Ex got all stressed and I had already gotten the hell out of dodge. Without doing dishes. Muwahahahaha!
2. Homemade enchiladas made by SM. No wonder I'm getting skinnier y'all, he's not feeding me all the damn time. That man can Cook! And by that I really do mean cook. Although I also mean sex but that's not what happened at the dinner table with his 3 little kids watching. I'm twisted but not that twisted... yet.
3. Watching the triplets ride the ferris wheel for the first time. They loved it. Declared it the coolest thing ever until the fun house. Then that was the coolest. Until the ginormous fall from the freaking heavens slide. But they didn't die or break anything so that's good.
4. A completely uncomplicated night of OMFG... no wait let me actually type that one out OohOhhOH Mah Fucking Gawd!!! sex and cuddling. And before you all get high and mighty on my ass, no I'm not still waiting and fighting for something. We're friends. Friends who bump uglies until one of us discovers someone else to bump uglies with. Things are much more comfortable now. Or they are until they get uncomfortable in the holy crap don't stop now kind of way. But of course, I'm a lady so I won't give you the details. Ladies don't discuss such things. For the record though, there was no hickey giving or getting.
5. My garden has borders. LawnBoy was going to come out on Thursday to dig me some trenches. In return he was going to buy me a beer on Saturday. Yeah, he sucks at negotiating. I told him that. Anyway, he couldn't make it on Thursday and I didn't really want to see him on Saturday so I assumed I was in the clear. I wasn't but I wriggled out of it anyway. So, on Sunday I got down and dirty in my own garden. I moved plants. I dug trenches. I put in pretty bricks. I got a fucking 9th degree sunburn on my virgin back skin.

And that ends this session of chill the hell out Steph. I'm tired and sunburned and still basking in the glow of amazing no strings attached sex!

How was your 4th of July? I hope you saw fireworks too!

**P.S. -- I have a date with TextGuy tomorrow. The hickey has finally faded enough that I don't need to wear a damn turtleneck. I'll keep you posted.

I am classy *updated*

After listening to several friends and half the blogosphere telling me that I should get out and live my fucking life, OMG, I did it. Yesterday morning I agreed to go out on a date with the TextingGuy. We have plans for Friday night. (That's tomorrow for all you calendarly challenged peeps.)

24 hours later (this morning to be exact) Thing1 is asking me what the giant mark is on my neck. Oh wait, not one mark but 3 scattered across my neck and collar bone. And so, with a killer hang over, I got my sorry ass ready for work and attempted to explain to my son what a hickey was. Yes, that mother of the year award is being engraved with my name on it right now!

Then, while driving to work it dawned on me. I have a hickey (or 3). A very obvious and unhidable hickey on my neck and a first date tomorrow night. I'm classy y'all, damn classy. I'm kind of hoping TextingGuy needs to reschedule... or cancel. Why the hell did I let you all talk me into this? I blame you, internet!

What the hell am I supposed to do now? Anyone know of a way to make them fade? Fast?

**Update - He had to cancel for tomorrow. WHEW!

Oh No He Didn't!?!

I've posted a lot of posts today. If you get through this one and have any desire to keep reading, I promise that the rest, that I wrote earlier, are actually funny and not as angry pissy bitchy as this one.

My dear dear friend called to figure out our plans for the day...

And before we had anything decided he started on a tirade about Ex. No, not his ex, MY Ex. I know it was intended to be one of those I am your friend and always on your side therefore he is an ass tirades. But I interrupted him several times to dispute his assumptions and to remind him that Ex is still one of my very best friends - Who is one of the best damn fathers to walk this planet - Then he finally got the hint.

Rather than finishing up discussing our plans, he decided to find a new target. SM. Umm, no. Just stop. Stop right now. I've said before and I'll say it again. No one knows what a relationship is really like unless they are one of the two in it. I was getting madder by the second as he kept on with his unfair judgements and so on. Finally, I was done listening to it and arguing with him. I told him that the topic was officially off limits. He was offended. Our plans were cancelled.

While I understand that my dear dear friend was just trying to be on my side and supportive and all that, it has been years. Years! since we were truly close. He knows only the tiniest snippets about my life. Just what I've been able and willing to share over the past 2 days.

In all honesty, I'm probably not the easiest woman in the world to love. I'm well aware of my short comings. I'm selfish and vain and more than a little bit crazy. I flip flop back and forth between sloth-like laziness and mad Must-Do-This-NOW compulsiveness. My attention span is that of a gnat until my head gets ahold of something that it Will. Not. Let. Go. Of.

Yes, I am not the total ray of sunshine that you all believe me to be. But despite all those faults, one good quality I have in spades is Devotion. If I care about someone, you better step the fuck off because I will own your ass for saying bad things about them or hurting them. End. Of. Discussion.

And so, now I wonder how long I should wait to let my dear dear friend get over feeling like I tore him a new asshole (because I kind of sort of did) before I call him to remind him that I do in fact luv him tons and would defend him in the very same way.

Is it ever just like in the movies? - making porn, I mean.

You know how some bloggers will try and talk about something personal but not really want to tell you exactly what they are talking about? They allude to a crappy marriage. They hint at an unwanted pregnancy. They skirt around a child with a drug problem. They pussy-foot around the worst sex of their life. Or the best sex with a complete stranger. Good choices, bad choices, bullets dodged or jumped in front of. Might - maybe - bad analogies. In the end you still don't know shit and they sound like a complete asshole.

Well aren't you lucky? I'm not going to do that to you today. There's safety in bullet points. I'm not talking until I'm ready to talk with full disclosure. I refuse to sound like a complete asshole. I sound like a partial asshole often enough.

The Weekend!

• Hanging out with Thing1 = Me having a web orgy with my laptop while the dog chases lightening bugs and Thing1 peruses Face Book... or porn.
• Being the mom who forgot to buy a gift for a kid party means that you have do something extra cool to make up for it. Water balloons are extra cool.
• So there's This Guy (TG). We've been out several times. I'm so not letting this go anywhere serious for many many many reasons. For right now, he's an interesting distraction. TG has a friend. ThisGuy'sFriend (TGF) has a lawn business, and a sweet little old lab, and a motorcycle, and a great sense of humor. He has a lot doesn't he? You know what else he has? A really good heart. He came over to my house this weekend and waged an epic battle with the dandelions. He stormed the castle and saved the princess queen. He was rewarded with a beer. Then we whacked my weeds and fixed my mower... and my screen door... and he was rewarded with another beer. End game, TGF. End game.
• I spent a couple hours being with and caring for my dying aunt. It will not be long now. My tears are for her pain and suffering. Because I love her, I hope she goes quickly. She lived her life with power and strength and being in a decaying shell is destroying her more violently than cancer.
• Harley has gained 1.2 pounds in 4 weeks. He also eats his own shit.
• Shimmy and I went to lunch and shopping and FUN! I adore that girl.
• If you haven't seen Zach and Miri make a Porno, then you simply must. But only if you are not easily offended. There was one part where even I was all "omg, omg, omg!" And no, not in that way, but in the "Holy ever loving buddahs butt, did you just see that?" way.

Days of Grace 35.5

I forgot a song...

It just makes me happy.

Also the fantastic IllBAMotherFucker sent me these to start off my weekend right. You totally get me, IBAMF. Much love and lots of hot wet kisses.

It's like he's looking up to me to save him from the pain. I'll save you Ryan. Let Sassy save you.

Class, an exotic accent, come fuck me eyes... mmmm

I love a bunny with curves.

This man needs to take his shirt off more however, I have to admit that he can make me wet with that smile alone. It's that rugged... something. Just WOW.

I don't know who he is, but he's bringing me flowers so it's all good. Dude, lose the pony tail.

Hot and ... and nothing. There's nothing more to say than OMFG HOT!

And finally; The most beautiful woman ever. EVER.

p.s. IBAMF, get a blog man. You crack my shit up!

Have a fantastic Memorial Day Weekend Everyone.

Some days it just doesn't pay to get up in the morning

An actual conversation here in the office

Sassy: Hi AdorableInternWhoCalledMeYoungOnMyBirthday
AIWCMYOMB: Hi Sassy, how are yooo... oh oh weird little jumping up and down thingy with flappy arms OOOOOHHH.
Sassy: confused stare
AIWCMYOMB: Oh my Gawsh, you and SM must be so excited!
Sassy: even more confused stare
AIWCMYOMB: How aRRRe you guys?
Sassy: confused as hell stare We split up.
AIWCMYOMB: No. No no no noooo. Oh NOoooo!
Sassy: wondering if she is off her meds today stare
AIWCMYOMB: in a hushed whisper Does he know?
Sassy: What the hell is wrong with this girl??? Know what?
AIWCMYOMB: More hushed tones That you are pregnant with his baby?
Sassy: Falls on the floor dead.

As I dance in the bright white light I have to wonder how this happened. I do NOT look pregnant. I'm looking down and smoothing my shirt against my smaller than it has been in for-ev-er etherial waste. Staring down at the shirt... The shirt that is cut like a triangle and sort of puffs out in front even though no part of my body is causing the puff... The shirt I will burn the moment I get... awww crap. No flames in heaven. I'm pretty sure of that. Burn the shirt or go to heaven? BURN the SHIRT or go to heaven. Burn... See y'all on the other side.

P.S. Somone bring the sunscreen. I'm gonna be topless
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Little bits of wisdom from Sassy

1. Great fun new haircut still turns into a tangled mess after 20 minutes on the back of a motorcycle
2. Dueling pianos freaking ROCK! Must go again and again and again and again...
3. Thistles hurt
4. Sangria makes you loopy
5. Great friends make the world a better place and my friends are THE BEST
6. It's hard to follow rules, even when you make them up yourself - Sassy=Fail
7. Mowing the yard and then sitting on the patio to admire your handiwork with a snoring puppy in your lap is the perfect way to spend a Saturday morning
8. Life is so so good.

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I'm Giddy

Recently I was awarded 2 blogging awards.
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Lilligirl gave me the "Thorns in my ass, get the baby powder" award. Or was it the "Snorting white stuff makes me think of roses" award? Oh wait, it was the: ONE LOVELY BLOG award.

I happen to think I'm lovely, but I'm probably a little bit biased. I have no idea why she thinks I'm lovely since lately all I've been able to talk about is OmgIThinkINeedToGetTheHellOverHimAlready and DragQueenMothaFuckinGangstas and boys boys boys... Not really lovely but I'll take the award just the same. I am an attention whore after all. No really, I am. I made this admission just last night to one of my suitors. I think he thought I was kidding...
Thanks Lilligirl. I happen to think you are pretty lovely too. SMOOCH.
.
A great big thank you with sloppy wet kisses goes out to Stacie who is all about her madness or some such thing. She's crazy y'all. Crazy like monkeys who throw shit at the walls and the people who think it's cute. Only the monkey has a slammin body, a great rack and is wearing THIS.
She gave me the Hell Yeah I'm Fucking Awe Summmm!!! Award.

Of course, it's really kind of hard to argue with that one because, I am, right?
Right?
*crickets*
...
Tough crowd.
.
So, there were rules and stuff about how to hand out these awards and things I'm supposed to do and say. I'm not really feelin' the rules thing today though, so let me just do this. I'm gonna borrow Stacie's new Eden Fantasies purchase, put on my BurgerKing birthday crown (Because my birthday is MONDAY! - Remember attention whore - Birthday du Sassy is MONDAY) and you all can just bow down and kiss my ass pretty little feet.
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No Sex For 90 Days

Saturday night I had a date. The kind where you actually get dressed up and he opens the car door for you. This man is such a gentleman and treats me like a princess. He took me to a $50 a plate (that was low end) steakhouse which I found amusing because each time we have gone out before I have picked little kitchy places like East African food where our total tab including a couple drinks rarely topped $30. I'm not complaining. It was nice, I'm just not typically that girl. It did feel wonderful to be that girl for a night though. After dinner we went to the comedy club. Having told him to get reservations about 37 times, he followed through and made sure we had seats. We were right up front but not directly under the stage. It was perfect. Since we had extra time before the party began, we started chatting with two other women who were at our table. Eventually the conversation came around to Date and I. Were we a couple? As his hand moved possessively to mine I coughed and said well, you know, we've been out a few times... Then came the dating advice. The best? "Don't sleep with a man until you've been dating for at least 90 days."

Ahahahaha! No, really, I was tearing up from laughing so hard. I wasn't laughing at her though, I was laughing at Date. He looked like he had swallowed his tongue. He looked like he had a family pack of condoms in his pocket. He looked like someone just turned his favorite pink pony into glue. And THAT cracked my ass up. Until it irritated me. But then the comedians came on and I was back to laughing so hard I was snotting on the table. Cleveland was the feature. He was talking about the perils of married life. How his father gave him advice saying if you find a woman who laughs at what you laugh at and likes women as much as you, you will forever be a happy man. Date then leaned over and said 50% isn't bad. To which I started snorting and laughing again because, well YOU know. He was at 50% just not the 50 he thought. Poor guy. The headliner was Pat Godwin. He has been on Bob and Tom and I swear to Moses if you ever get the chance to see him it will be like an orgasm wrapped in chocolate, or bacon, or maybe even chocolate and bacon.

.

Anyway, my point was that the irritation was gone, washed away with snorting laughter. UNTIL Date brought me home and stood on my door step obviously expecting something. I sent him on his way, not because I believe in the whole 90 day thing but because I just didn't want him. That should have been a big clue for me. I tend to be a passionate and physical person. If at this point I was not thinking about wanting him then I'm more than likely never going to get to that point. He just isn't... oh hell, I don't know what he isn't because there are so many good things that he is. But whatever that magical thing is that makes my panties wet. He isn't. The following morning he was all "do we need to talk" and "didn't like what you didn't say" and "I really want our future to be together but you have to let me in." Ummm, huh? We kind of talked through that. The very same evening he texted me to ask how my night was. I was at a friend's house and did not respond. Not 15 minutes later he was texting me with "what? no response? you're going to be like that?" At that point there was no way in hell I was going to respond. Bite me ass hat. In talking with Amy I told her that I was getting a possessive "I own you" vibe and I said that I just didn't think I would work well with that kind of guy. Her response was something along the lines of OMFG! THE EARTH WOULD END! So, there is that. I don't think I'll be seeing him again.

.

Of course, I worked in sales for years so I know all about building up your pipeline... LocalGuy and I are talking on the phone a lot. If it weren't for the fact that he tried to chew my lips off when we kissed, I think I'd be really excited to see him again. I have a blind date next week with a guy AMY says is perfect for me. Totally my type. (Since I thought possessive guy was my type- until he got possessive, I'm not really sure anymore but I'm going to trust her. She picked Todd and that man is Hotness wrapped in perfection topped with whipcream and a cherry. (Hi Todd, thanks again for the floors) So she's got great taste.

.

Here's me in my LBD:

P.s. Go visit Amy and comment and tell her to write something already. You will love her as soon as she gets her technologically challenged butt in gear. Also, she sells an amazing make up and skin care line that you'll want to know all about. This woman has stories that make be blush. Tune in, I promise you won't be disappointed!

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Days of Grace: 31

1) Eating at fun new places, trying new things and not washing dishes

------I've had an opportunity to eat out a bit more of late and have enjoyed going to places I've never been before or introducing someone else to one of my favorite off the wall joints. Most recently I had lunch with someone at an East African restaraunt that stole my heart months ago. My friend was skeptical, more inclined to meat and potatos, the vegetable laden menu seemed daunting. The final verdict, "That was good. I'd go there again. But we have to take turns, next time it's a steak place." Fair enough. Fair enough. I also ventured out to a Mongolian place that was recommended to me and thoroughly enjoyed the variety. I wish I had enjoyed the desserts because they looked amazing but if I'd have done that I would have barfed and that's just not the best way to finish a meal.



2) Soccer

------ I always swore that I would never own a minivan. A few years ago I broke down and bought one. Considering the things I was involved in at the time, it made sense. With or without the van though, I am most definitely a soccer mom. When I get out there (quite possibly with a beverage in hand), sitting in the sun watching the kids race too and fro, I morph into a cartoon character of myself. I'm yelling and shouting and cheering. I love to watch the kids get in there and really go for it. The girls that can take a hit and get right back up and go after it. The boys who will go head to head with those girls and not back down. I'm competitive. I won't apologize for that. Thursday is my new favorite day of the week.



3) Photography

------ I have a friend who has graciously agreed to give me some lessons on how to use my camera. I have a Sony A100... I think. It's a DSLR and I'm clueless. He has a Minoga or Menagua (wait, that's a city, not a camera) or something. Apparently our lenses are interchangable. Whatever. We're going to the botanical gardens to play this weekend and I'm so excited. He is also a techy and is going to give me some tips on Photoshop. Perhaps I'll be able to post some good pictures soon.



4) Phoenix in June

------- No really, I'm not kidding about that one. As y'all know, I have a wonderfully perfect squishy yummy angelic new nephew that I must smother with love and hugs and snuggles and kisses. Dan the Man, my oldest friend that I still have contact with, will be home (Phoenix) for a visit in June. He's stationed in Germany and just got back from a long time in the SandBox. Why not coordinate such things and take a mini-vaca in a couple months? Why not head for the Valley of the Sun in a few weeks. Here's why, because my eyeball juices will boil and my brain will melt and ooze out my ears. Oh hell, what do I care? I'll get baby loving and to see see a treasured friend. I'm saving my pennies. Bring on the heat!



5) Motorcycles?

------ I have a friend who is pulling out his motorcycle tonight for the first time this season. While he tinkers and does whatever the heck one has to do to make a bike road ready each year, I get to play kissy kissy with a 4 month old yellow lab. Then, we ride. WooHoo!



Now, if only someone can tell me how to ride with long-ish hair and not have it end up looking like this when I'm done:





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Pulling me out of the depths of my craptastic day

Steph, you are my own personal angel and this heavenly gift has saved me.



Amen.

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Sunday Wanderings

My friend got her ring. It was THE ring. She is on cloud nine and I'm so happy for her. But she did not spend the entire 20 minutes of our conversation gushing about the ring. What she kept saying was "He wants me... forever" in this awed voice that made me want to squish her up in a great big hug. Of course he wants you - forever, honey. Of course he does!

Our conversation only lasted 20 minutes not because she was done gushing or because I was done listening to her sound so happily-ever-after-OMG! It ended because I ran out of gas. No, really. I Ran. Out. Of. Gas. My car sputtered and slowed. I coasted to the side of the road and hung up. Then I walked my cold ass to the next freeway exit in search of fuel. By the time I got there I couldn't decide whether I was on my way home or if I had just left it.

I am here now. Wherever that is.



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You say tomato, I say OMFG that's ugly

I have a girlfriend who is anticipating being betrothed very soon. Soon as in TONIGHT soon. She stumbled across her man's credit card statement and there was a $22,575 purchase on it at Tiffany.




So let's just stop and look at that for a minute.

1) Stumbled across? Pfft!!!


2) $22,757 on a piece of Jewelry? OMG!
That's a freaking car people.
That's 7,611 Big Mac's.
That's 1,896 cases of beer.
That's 284 pairs of over priced jeans
That's 12 gallons of gas!



But it wasn't just the stealthy credit card glance or the crazy price tag that made my head explode in this conversation, it was the ring she hoped that he chose:


That has to be the gaudiest ring I have ever seen in my life. Now, I happen to know this man makes almost as much money as GM's CEO so whatever he does buy will be the real deal. But if I saw any other woman on earth wearing this thing I would immediately assume she had a lousy redneck trashy fiance who bought her a fake ring. Fakey fake fake. Top that off with the simple and undeniable fact that it is just plain FUGLY.

But being the great friend that I am, I oooo'ed and awwww'ed and gushed over how gorgeous it will look on her little bitty finger. Now, I can only hope that he actually was her own personal Super Man and that he picked the ring she has her heart set on. Otherwise she will be crying diamond shaped tears tomorrow and $21,000 is going to be cheap to repair the damage.

Now, since it's Friday and my office is EMPTY I've been emailing with some of my more classy and less wealthy single* girlfriends to see what they hope to sport on that all important digit some day. Here's what we learned.

Five incredibly diverse single women from various places in their romantic journeys have very different tastes but still dream of happily ever after with one man and one gorgeous rock.

• Ella is not currently in a relationship, has never been married and has no kids
• Stella has kids is dating but not seriously and has never been married
• Frella is a divorced cougar with grown children and a much younger lover
• LouElla has never been married and has no children. She has been living with the same man for over 15 years.
• Bella is divorced, has teenish kids and is in a committed relationship.

So here's the audience participation part. Vote for your favorite bauble. (Boys girls, married or single, join the fun)

*Sorry married ladies but you are required by marriage law #862 to love the ring you vowed yourself into, whether you had wet dreams of a different sparkly sort all those years ago or not.




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