When the lows are really low

Feeling lost and confused the past few weeks and lucky for all you poor souls. you get to listen to me rant for a few moments.

The highs have been so high here — but the lows have also been very low.

Some days I feel like I lack a purpose. There are things I want so badly, yet I feel like I have zero control over getting them.

And so I’ve toyed with what I’m going to do in a year when my lease runs out.

Right now, moving to a big city sounds like an amazing adventure.

Florida has been such a blessing in my healing process but in a way I feel like it’s run its course.

I’ve had seven, yes seven people I’ve become extremely close with move away over the past year.

And I’m about to lose yet another very good friend.

I’m sad you guys.

I’m tired, too.

And I feel so stupid for be depressed in such a beautiful place. I practically live on the beach for Pete’s sake.

So what’s a girl to do? Chase new adventures in a big city like Boston?

I know so much of this stems from the hell Fuck Face put me through.

I feel like everyone in my life always ends up leaving.

So many feelings.

Fuck feelings.

Remember when I was dead inside?

That made all of this so much easier.

I hate to let my secret out, but it had to be said.

I’m lost.

I pray a lot.


Have you heard of Project Semicolon?

The movement hits close to home. I’m sure I’ve touched briefely on wanting to turn my emotional pain into physical pain in the weeks following the end of my marriage.

I just love what the movement stands for — and right now, it’s reminding me of how far I’ve come on this journey.

Thanks for listening. I know I rant and bitch and complain and cuss and drink and smoke and whatever. I’m human too. I’m thankful for you for caring.


Back in the saddle

Hey blog world. Long time no talk, eh?

I’ve been back from Colorado for almost three weeks and I took some time to just veg, and eat, and drink when I got home.

I think it was the very last step in the mourning process of my old life.

(Photo is in Colorado with my sister)


Army guy is gone. I have not heard a single word from him since he wished me safe travles.

And that’s totally OK.

The sex was terrible, And really I only had fun with him when we were drunk.


I was pretty bummed when I got back from Colorado. I let myself sift in my own self pitty and drown my sorrows with pot and ice cream for about a week.

I had to fight SO hard to get myself out of that funk. I got my (now 5 pounds heavier) ass out of bed every morning to hit the gym and started making plans with friends again.

For a minute, they almost had to bring flashlights into my cave to find me and pull me out.

Shall we delve into why I was such a hot fucking mess?

It’s part I miss my family and my home state. It was part realizing nothing has changed from back home. The people and the places are the same and I found myself bored after four days. It’s part I’m still single and this sucks. And it’s part I still despise Fuck Face.

All is good though, I dug myself out of that depression hell hole.

I did some more flying last weekend and had a great drunken night with some friends. (Photo is in Sarasota)


I have no crazy stories for you.

You’re shocked, I know.

Give me another week and I’m sure I’ll have something juicy.

Just breathe

Checking in from Colorado as I sit in the sunshine on my aunt and uncle’s deck. There is nobody home and I spent the morning by myself, running around the reservoir across the street. 

It felt so good to reconnect with myself and this place all alone this morning. I really needed this recharge. 

I lived in his home for almost four months. I moved in the day after I caught my now ex-husband (Fuck Face for your loyal readers) cheating on me eight months into out marriage. 

In a way, I feel like a ran away from this state and my home. Which in a way I did. I worked my ass off to find a great job in Florida and start a new adventure in my life. 

I regret absolutely nothing. And I for the first time, completely love my life. 

I know this place will always be home and will welcome me with open arms. 

Yes this is a cheesy, stupid emotional post but you know what? I did it you guys. I went through the hardest thing I’ve ever been through and here I am coming out on the other side. I feel like finally coming home after more than a year and facing all the dark places I left behind is the last step in my healing process. 

I did it.

With a little dignity.

A little class.

And a lot of wine and weed.

My family and friends are my rock. The ocean healed my soul. 

I did it.    


“No Boys Allowed” (while I’m gone)

Whelp, this is it. I leave for the motherland (Colorado) in 12 hours.

I’m beyond excited for the people, the food, the beer and the weed.

I also have this annoying voice deep inside of me telling me this is going to be hard. It’ll bring up emotions and memories I’ve been so good at suppressing for more than a year, (Damn you feelings!)

(Enter weed to shut that bitch up)

I’ve got a lot of awesome stuff planned and people to see. I’ve also got a lot of people I’m avoiding and places I don’t care to see.

I do know Fuck Face will be out of town.

I know you are yelling at your computer, asking me how I know that.

I had to harass him (you know, my monthly ritual) about money.

I ended the conversation saying “I’m going to be in town next week, let’s do our best to avoid any awkward run ins.”

Which should read “If I see you or your piece-of-shit home-wrecking girlfriend there will be hell (and my first girl fight).”

I promise I really am an adult.

This trip will be a nice break from the horrendous thing people call dating.

Army guy is done. And as my grandmother put it, “another one bites the dust.”

Between the mediocre sex and the fact that he watched TV while I made dinner, I decided I WILL NOT take care of someone again.

I had a great girls’ weekend with my roommate which involved brunch, mimosas on the beach, catching the sunrise and one last smoke sesh with a girlfriend moving out of the country.

Looking forward to a clean dating slate when I get back.

Wish me luck (and a run-in free) week in Colorado!

dacia_yoga dacia2 dacia3 dacia4

“What up brochacho?”

Can someone please explain to me how it’s possible for me to be so annoyed/disgusted by the “male species” yet I still feel the need to have one of the dirty, smelly beings in my life?

For reals, this is a mean little game someone upstairs is playing.

Let’s start with this story…

I met a guy on Tinder almost a year ago. He is WAY too old, like the dude reminds me of my dad. He’s about 15 years older than me. We turned whatever nonsense that meeting was into a friendship that revolves around playing volleyball with a group of people every Saturday.

A while back, he had a party to watch football. OK cool, I’ll go. I’m always down to meet new people. I also met his parents.

Fast forward to Saturday (I skipped volleyball because a certain Army Guy was in my bed). Volleyball guy informs me his parents are making dinner and have a soccer watching party Monday night. I feel obligate to go. SO I drag my feet, accept the invite, make brownies (and eat batter in the process) and show up to the party Monday night after work.

Uh… more like party for ONE.

I was the only guest.

So it was volleyball guy, mom and dad and me.


Dinner was good. His dad talks about himself a lot (as does he) and really, the entire time I was there, I wanted to inflict personal harm.

WHY? I am so confused, especially because a few months ago volleyball guy even said “don’t worry I’m not hitting on you.”

Oh and the best moment of the night? His mom said “So, (Volleyball guy) tells me you had a few questions about IBS?”

Um, no?

He said “no mom, that’s a different friend.”

True story people. I can’t make this shit up.

OK, OK. Army guy?

Well that hasn’t been going very well. He blew me off last weekend. I was pretty much over it. (I don’t put up with bullshit any more)

He apologized and wanted to take me to sushi and what girl is going to turn that down?

Sushi > drinks > bowling > drinks > me puking after tequila (sound familiar) > him taking care of me > drunken sex > sleep over at my place > waking up early to take my roommate to the doctor > me bringing bagels home to him in my bed (at which point he began to fall in love) > fooling around > him finally leaving.

Then I had a date with a different guy on Sunday. He’s hot, Brazilian and very sweet. We’ve been out a few times but this time we got a bit closer, I saw his house and decided he might be gay. Or possibly just very, very metro. He has better sunglasses than I do and drives a Jetta.

I’ve talked to Army guy a bit since our Friday night rumble in which he gave me an open invitation to come “snuggle” whenever I want. Yet at one point he also texted me “What up brochacho?”

Um, what?

Back to me hating me. Can you see why?

I’m going home to Denver in two weeks, and until then I’m focused on getting my life back together, like going to the gym and paying bills. You know, all that being an adult shit.

I need a little clarity.

I also need Army Guy to get his shit together and make more of an effort to see me — and never, ever use the word brochacho again.

Out with the old, in with the new?

There’s been an interesting turn of events the past week.

For starters, Single Dad dumped me. Don’t be too surprised, I didn’t exactly put a whole lot of effort into keeping the relationship alive. He said he was tired of me being so back-and-forth. Who me??

Honestly, I’m relieved.

I had a date with a new guy. Which turned into three dates.

Date one: We met at a local bar for a drink and hit it off. Walked to the pizza joint then to a geocache spot and finished at my favorite tiki spot with plenty of swings, hammocks, live music and giant Jenga. All of which we enjoyed.

He kissed me goodbye

Date two: We met at a restaurant/bar on the water. Had a quick dinner then mingled with the crowed listening to music. We ended up cozying up at the bar and spent two hours people watching and gossiping together. On more than one occasion I received compliments on my dress and twice we were called a beautiful couple.

Yeah, I was on cloud nine.

And we danced….

The night ended with us sneaking onto a sailboat to kiss under the stars.

We will get to date three in a moment, I just have to explain how amazing (and boy free) the rest of my Memorial Day weekend was. Yes the paddle boarding and time in the sun was amazing but I was lucky enough to take another flight with my friend. This time we went to Sarasota and it was BEAUTIFUL.

Yes, my mother tells me all the time, I live a spoiled life.

I call it Karma for the hell I had to go through with Fuck Face to get to this point in my life.

sara1 sara2

sara3 sara4

OK date three: I went over to his house for wine and a movie. We managed to make it through the first movie (except for an intermission to sit on the patio and watch a thunderstorm roll in). But 10 minutes into the second movie we were all over each other. He ended up picking me up and carrying me to his bedroom totally cross-the-threshold style. NO I did not sleep with him!

But there was a lot of kissing and touching and you know…

He told me I should stay, and let me just tell you… every part of me wanted to stay but with my luck I was fighting stomach problems and knew I needed to go home to avoid any embarrassing situations.


Had I stayed I’m sure more would have happened than I would have liked.

You want details about him huh?

OK… 6-feet-tall, Army vet, is in the process of taking over his parents’ business. Owns a home and a very nice car. And I have to admit, he is a year younger than me.

Yep. I’m totally cradle robbing!

And the best part? I am SO attracted to him (Unlike my many issues with Single Dad)

Yes I’m still out to have fun. No I’m not trying to lock this one down or let him do the same to me.

But being called a beautiful couple is still pretty fucking awesome.

Why you shouldn’t drunk text … and other shenanigans

If you recall, I did a really dumb thing. I got stupid drunk and texted Fuck Face.

Nothing (too) crazy, just a selfie and me wishing he wakes up every day knowing what he walked away from. You know, normal shit.

I played it off (OK, tried) by saying a friend sent it and said “don’t worry, I’m not pining over you.”

A week went by and he was silent except for an “accidental” voice text of noise and voices I couldn’t quite understand.

I had to message him about money, because for some fucking reason the guy cannot seem to pay me every month. We are still paying off that beautiful wedding we had.

His reply: Shit sorry I forgot, I must have been pining over something else.


Well played.

Of course the conversation didn’t end there. We chatted about stupid shit like if a friend really sent my drunken selfie. I said it was dual effort but my friend actually sent it. Yes that’s complete bullshit.

He asked about regrets and what I miss.

I said I missed our dog, some friends and the weather. (I live in a different state now)

I think he got the point that IDGAF about him. At least that’s what I want him to think.

He made it pretty clear he doesn’t miss me either.

The shitty part is the conversation shook me up for a few days. Amped up the anxiety a bit.

In other news, I had a great birthday! My girlfriends took me out for drinks, then there was an after party and of course, birthday sex from Single Dad.


Yes, he is still in the picture…. sort of…

When I woke up with him in my bed (and finally sober) I told him to quit the bullshit about being possessive and jealous and just to enjoy what we do. He smiled and nodded.

When did I turn into a 23-year-old bachelor? “Just enjoy what we do.” So douchey.

I’m also back to online dating…. and again, it sucks. At least it’s entertaining.

What did we learn?

Don’t get drunk and text Fuck Face
I have the love life of a 23-year-old bachelor
Online dating sucks.

My life is awesome.