Why Do Fools Fall In Love?

Surely I did once love a boy,

Who thought me no more than a toy,

Or perhaps a passing whim,

He broke my heart so shame on him.

And then one day he did return,

And swore his lesson he did learn,

To take him back I did agree,

He broke my heart so shame on me.


Nubile Flesh

When on the street my eyes do rest,
Upon a piece of nubile flesh,
He reminds me a bit of you,
Or some other boy that I once knew.

And so as we lock eyes,
I allow myself to fantasize,
That in another place and time,
That for one night he could be mine.

But in his eyes not that lingering look ,
And so it seems I have mistook,
This boy for a potential lover,
I’m old enough to be his mother.


The Blind Date From Hell

He said he resembled Brad Pitt somewhat
More like Nick Nolte in his mug shot.

And I wonder if that’s his real hair or his real teeth,
Or if he really likes listening to music and long walks on the beach.

He says his Rolls Royce is in the shop, and it’s just bad luck,
That we have to drive around in this Chevy pick up.

He said he was 34, looks more like 43
And if he’s rolling in the cash, why are we at Applebee’s?

And now he’s standing at the door, attempting a seductive grin
I suppose he’s hoping he’ll be invited in.

A door slammed in his face may be all that he deserves
But I think instead, “What the hell, I’ve done worse.”


Napowrimo Entry #6


Jimmy and The Twins

Jimmy wore a big smile when he left that night
Sure the fun was about to begin
Not only did he have a girl on each arm
Imagine his luck-they were twins!

But when he got into his humble abode
He felt his heart begin sinking
When he realized he knew not what to do with the two
His smile wasn’t all that was shrinking.

He thought he’d lay back while the two girls attacked
But since they weren’t into each other
He awkwardly sat in between the two girls
Wishing that he had a brother.

He decided to give the girls back rubs
A task that would prove so demanding
He found himself almost grateful to find
The evening not quite what he’d been planning.

It was at this point that Jimmy gave up
And let us agree not to speak
Of a night spent playing Monopoly
Paired with a peck on the cheek.

But Jimmy’s not one to be down on his luck
He returned to that same bar to spin
Sordid tales of that wild night
He totally banged the twins.



Napowrimo Entry #3


Tips For Cyberstalking Your Ex-Boyfriend

Your mother might not know a zip disk from a memory stick, but there is one part of technology she most certainly is familiar with and that is cyberstalking. Not only might your mother want to cyber stalk you, but after all those years married to your dad, cyber stalking her ex-boyfriends is probably one of her favorite past times. Based on all my years of experience, I have done woman kind a great favor by compiling these words of wisdom for cyberstalking ex-girlfriends everywhere.

A great cyber-stalker is an outside the box thinker: Don’t be discouraged when a Google or Facebook search does not yield results. Think friends, family, work connections, web sites, pass words, band mates. Come on ladies, he’s out there somewhere!

Get Reacquainted: Now that you have found your ex, you want to know, is he bald, has he gained weight, did he finally get a good job or is he still the loser you dated, did he in fact leave the country like he told you he did, and, most importantly, is he in a relationship.

Keep Your Enemies Close: If he is not in a relationship, you might as well stop stalking now and revisit in a couple of months. However, if he is an a relationship, the search has just begun. It is now up to you to find out if SHE is attractive, if SHE is fat, if SHE has a good job, and most importantly, what she has on her that you don’t got on you. Think of how much closer to closure you will be after spending hours trying to figure out why SHE made him happy when you couldn’t.

Do Not Contact Him: I know in this cyber world, where contact is just a click away, it may be irresistible to go ahead and contact your ex. I strongly recommend you do not do this. It will not end well. As a matter of fact, you should really write a letter to yourself that says’

Dear Self,

No matter how drunk and desperate you are, do not contact (ex-boyfriend you are currently cyberstalking).

And hang it in front of your computer.

But If You Must: If you know yourself too well and feel that a mere piece of paper will be no deterrent for you, it is important that in these moments of drunken desperation, you sound neither drunk nor desperate. Here is what you SHOULD NOT be writing:

Dear (Ex-Boyfriend I am Currently Cyberstalking):

Why did you tell me you moved out of the country leaving me here to die alone? What did I ever do to you? I thought your parents said we made a cute couple.

The object is to make him feel you are a mature adult who has moved on. I would try something more along these lines:

Dear (Ex-Boyfriend I am Currently Cyberstalking):

Long time no speak! You look great! The receding hair line really becomes you!

I see you are in a relationship now. Good for you! She looks like a really nice person. You two seem like you really enjoy a good meal.

As for me, you will be pleased to know that I am now a successful (highly exaggerated job position here.) I also have a very cool blog.

By the way be sure to say hello to your brother for me. You do know I slept with him right?



But You Doesn’t Hasta Call Me Victoria

I don’t think I really had a name until I was about 20. But I suppose that is the plight of an identical twin . Before that it was ‘hey you’, the cringe worthy ‘twin’ or a horrifying amalgamation of both of our names, ‘Marissa-Victoria Victoria-Marissa’. I  am just happy that we predated the Bennifers and Brangelinas or we would have surely been Vicrissa or, worse yet, Maroria.

Baffled friends regarded us, studying our faces before even saying a word, in a pathetic attempt at that Holy Grail of knowledge that would answer the question, “Which one is which?” My boyfriends scratched their heads in wonder before clumsily sticking their tongues down my sister’s throat.

Then, when I was in my 20s, something terrible happened. I fell in love.

People wondered why I chose Jon as the object of my affections. He was short, with unconventional looks, and, although he was in a semi cool rock band, he was only the drummer. The thing was, Jon was the first boy who was brave enough to call me by my name. Often. And with feeling. Like it was a term of endearment. I guess anyone might find that charming and flirtatious, but oh readers, if he knew what that did for me…

Well, as you can well imagine, that relationship quickly ended in disaster as most young relationships do. However, soon other boys would come along who called me by my name. And as I established my own identity, I found other people, in different situations, calling me by my name more and more often .

But alas, no sooner had my identity had been established, then I found it all too quickly taken away. I soon married and had children and, once again I was no longer Marissa but Mommy, Mrs. Bergen, or Anjelica’s and/or Jesse’s mom. In fact, it seems the only time I am addressed by my name nowadays, is when  I’m at work or when my order is ready at El Pollo Loco.

Even my husband rarely calls me by my name. With him it’s usually ‘Babe’ (equally cringe worthy). I think he’s still a bit afraid he will call me ‘Victoria’.

And if you’re wondering whether he ever ended up with his tongue down my sister’s throat…well…that is the story for another blog.

I’m Breaking Up With You Because…

This was actually one of the first blogs I wrote and today’s Daily Prompt inspired me to reblog it. (Hope that isn’t cheating.)

Recently, I was inspired by a blog written by new favorite blogger The Office In Betweener ( http://seansmithson.com/). (If you haven’t read his blog you really should). He said he was trying to follow a blog written by a woman who was trying to go on 30 dates by the time she was 30 and blogging about them.

This does seem like an interesting premise for a blog and it made me reflect on the many, many dates I went on when I was younger. However, being on the rock n’ roll dating scene, they weren’t so much dates as a series of glorified booty calls. Still, my experiences prepared me a virtual pupu platter of men which I sampled without the complications of a full on relationship.

The problem, or maybe not the problem, but one of the desired outcomes, is that these relationships often fizzle out rather than coming to an ugly ending in which you tell each other how you really feel.  However, sometimes I wish I could tell them what idiots (cute idiots, but idiots nonetheless) they appeared to be at various times. So here I go, vicariously making fools of all of them in open Dear John letters. I will change the names to protect the innocent.

Dear Eddie,

Because you have a mommy complex, because it is not cute to put the adjective ‘Little’ before your name when we all know you are about 5 years older than most of the people in the club, and because 5’2 is definitely too short for a man.

Dear Jamie,

Because I really can’t be with a guy who can’t tear himself away from a mirror, who takes longer to get ready in the morning then I do, who may be gay (not that there’s anything wrong with that) and if not missed a really good opportunity, and, oh yeah, who has a very obvious nose job.

Dear Marc,

Because you really need to get a car. I simply can’t be driving you home every time after we hook up. Also, the glam heavy metal thing is kind of getting old. I suggest you update your look and seriously look into a day job. You’re really getting a bit long in the tooth for all this.

Dear Tracy,

Because you didn’t take your shirt off when we…you know, but I could still see that your quite overweight. Because you made funny noises when you…you know, and just because you had somewhat of a career back in the 90s, your really not all that.

Dear  Kurt,

Because the 90s are calling and they want their dread locks back. Because you blasted rap music at top volume in the car when we were driving home (and not even cool, rock type rap). Because you live way out in the valley and think it’s cool. Because I don’t like the fact that your huge dog sleeps in the bed. And, oh yeah, because you’re a stupid idiot!!

Thanks. I feel much better now!!





image credit: http://relationshipplaybook.com/2012/10/breakup/

Valentine’s Day Blows: Death to Cupid

Valentine’s Day sucks. At best it’s a holiday manufactured for the sole purpose of a couple meant to conspicuously exhibit their sickening, undying love for each other in such a way that deepens the pockets of jewelry stores and chocolatiers everywhere. At worst, you’re single.

There’s really no way around Valentine’s Day for one who is single. I mean, you could call your best FWB, but that might make him think that you’re actually into him, and one would not want that to happen. You could go to a club and try and pick up a random stranger. But again, the significance of the date will always somehow put weight on the hook up. Or you could go to one of those single’s mixers. But that just reeks of desperation.

Trust me, I know. Even though I have been married for quite some time, I have spent more than 50% of my Valentine’s Days as a single girl, and it is not pretty. That is why, to this day, I try to see Valentine’s Day for the miserable facade it is, rather than trying to be all googly eyed and mushy with my husband. (Although a great big box of chocolates it always completely acceptable, thank you).

Here is a poem I wrote for my husband last Valentine’s Day. Keep in mind that he is a huge death/black metal fan and this is meant to be a spoof on such. In fact, on the card it says, “to be sung to the tune of your favorite death metal song”.

Black angel soaring swooping low
Carrying his evil bow
Blackened wings, piercing dark
Training arrows at my heart
Demon creature taking aim
“Cupid,” speak thine enemy’s name
You will not threaten me tonight
Grab my weapon, I take flight
With my shield his darts deflect
Then I wring the cherub’s neck
And wrestle to Hell’s fiery floor
St. Valentine shall rise no more.

Happy Valentine’s Day to all you single people and just so you know, if I wasn’t married, I would definitely sleep with you on Valentine’s Day!



Dating In Your 40s

In your 20s it’s all casual
An age when girls and boys
Are getting schooled at playing games
And all their lovers? toys

30s, time to reel them in
The long and short of it
Your favorite Friend With Benefits
May be ready to commit

But if you’re in your 40s
It’s quite a different thing
Cause he’s wondering what’s wrong with you
And you what’s wrong with him.