Which Avenger Have You Dated?

The Avengers

The Avengers


Okay, so I’m not up-to-date on popular movies.  Though both my teens have seen “THE AVENGERS” multiple times, I have not and since it was a long weekend, they begged me to watch it with them.  It wasn’t bad…not bad at all!  Robert Downey, Jr. is not one of my favorite actors, though I do applaud his strength in overcoming his addictions, and for a diminutive man, he’s attractive.  I avoided this movie because I regarded it as a good popcorn selling type of movie (i.e, not much story, but lots of action).  Those kinds of movies worked for my husband and father, but me?  not so much.  I was surprised.   When it was over, we discussed which super hero was our favorite and why and then took it a step further and applied it to relationships.  Remember, there’s no scientific basis here, just experience and viewpoints.


PROS:  Tony stark is brilliant.  He’s a leader.  He’s a smooth jokester.  He thinks out of the box and makes good investments.  He’s wealthy.  And he’s not bad looking.  He also likes to party.

CONS: Tony Stark is the quintessential narcissist. Everything revolves around him and he is better than anyone he knows.  He has father issues.  He is a playboy.  He has control issues.  Think Alex Rodriguez in baseball.  Think young Warren Beatty.  He’s sadistically sarcastic.  Pepper Potts is a great match for him as she understands these things, but honestly, having a relationship with Iron Man would not only be scary because of his super powers, but mainly because of his ego.  Poor Pepper will never find romance with a man like this, though she will find great pleasure in taking him down a notch or two.


PROS: He’s a god.  He can do anything.  He’s handsome.  He’s self-assured.  He’s strong.  He is Master of his Destiny.  He’s probably really good at lovemaking, I mean he’s a god, he knows!

CONS:  He’s a god.  He can do anything.  He’s condescending.  You’re nothing but a weak species:  HUMAN.   Why would he need you?  Why would he need anyone?  He is Master of his Destiny.  The only control you will have in this relationship is the control he grants you—then reminds you that he granted it to you.  The kind of woman he would need would be more a groupie than a complete person…or a subservient.


PROS: He is a natural born leader who always tries to do the right thing.  He is dependable. He is empathetic, principled and logical.  He wants to learn new things.  He’ll take one for the team if he has to and if he believes in the quest. He’s a team player.  He is humble.   He doesn’t care what others think, he does what has to be done.  A baseball parallel would be the Texas Rangers Adrian Beltre.   A literary character parallel would be Atticus Finch.  In a relationship, this is the man all your friends wished they had.  He does seem to think progressively though, so he could be convinced if you gave him a logical argument.

CONS: His baggage is in what he’s seen and lamenting what could be which makes him sentimental but melancholy.  He’s a bit of a goody two shoes, which means he could be a bit uptight.  Not a lot of room for hedonism here.  He might not be too “experimental” in bed.



PROS:  He’s beastly strong.  He doesn’t care what others think.  He’s his own man.  He’s brilliant.  He’s HUGE! If you’re into taboo sex, this guy would be the one!  He would accept any woman who gave him an iota of attention.  NO one would mess with him when he’s angry, they can see in his eyes when the transformation begins.

CONS:  He’s green.  He’s always angry. He’s bi-polar.  He’s secretive. He blames the world for his problems.  He likes to be alone, but doesn’t really.  He’s conflicted.  He’s ANGRY!  He could hurt you, then blame it on the transition.  He has deep-seeded issues.   He’s inconsistent.  He’s bullheaded.  He’s more a tool than a person. He likes you one minute, then turns on you the next.  His loyalty is scattershot.   Too bad Tom doesn’t read this anymore, I think he could relate. 



PROS:  This guy is cutting edge!  He’s up on all the new inventions, weapons and technology. He would be the guy with the biggest TV in his man cave.  He is loyal and has many friends.  He’s fun to party with.   He has a sharp wit.  He’s also precise.  He won’t quit until the mission is complete which would make him an awesome lover. He’s a one-woman man and would be faithful.  He has lots to offer to the woman with the most patience.  I know this one well!

CONS:  He’s insecure, always feeling he needs to prove himself.  He fights easily, and is usually the one to begin it.  He’s more a follower than a leader.  He second-guesses himself in relationships, but is confident in work.  He seems like he’s on the verge of breaking at any time.



PROS:  She is independent and doesn’t need a man for anything she can’t do herself.  She’s smart.  She’s beautiful.  She’s athletic.  A man would have to be patient and put his needs on the back burner to make a go of this relationship.  He would also have to be quite trusting.

CONS:  She isn’t very nurturing and doesn’t have time for romance.  Wait, to many men, this would be a PRO instead of a CON  She’s secretive, manipulative and not always loyal.  She does what is best for her, unless she cares about you, then you’re thrown a bone. She’s a bit on the hard side and would have been a great colonist.


So now you have the background, take the poll below.  It’s all in fun!





6 Sure Signs You’re a Sapiosexual




Urban Dictionary defines “sapiosexual” as ” (adj) A form of sexual orientation characterized by a strong attraction to intelligence in others, often regardless of gender and/or conventional attractiveness.”  Well, Urban Dictionary notwithstanding, a sapiosexual is someone who finds intelligence the most sexually attractive feature of another.   Since the brain is the largest sexual organ of both sexes yeah, I hear some of you snickering how size doesn’t matter a sapiosexual person isn’t as taken by visual stimuli as they are with intellect and wit.   This isn’t to say that sapiosexuals aren’t attracted to attractive people, but the attractive person MUST have a keen mind.   Still confused?  Here are 6 sure signs you’re a sapiosexual.

1. When playing Scrabble or Words with Friends, you know Sapiosexual isn’t a valid word but you’re impressed that they tried to use it any way. Words can be so damned sexy!

Here are some of my favorite words: hedonistic, cacophony, tempestuous, fervent, cognoscente, voluminous, indelible, enigmatic, serendipity, retronym, flourish, luminous, assiduous, poignant, impassioned, and contentious.  Funny, some of these words could describe my ideal man!


2.  You can spot a pseudo-sapiosexual which means if you can spot a fake one, you’re a real one,  by how they text, write letters or tweet.  They may want to impress with their vocabulary, but if they misspell, dangle participles unless its a measure of enticement or use words out of context, their intellectual virility may parallel their performance.  Well okay, with phone usage, you must build in a buffer for auto-correct mistakes.  For example, the following two sentences use uncommon words.  One is correct, the other isn’t.  Can you spot the sapiosexual sentence?

His braggadocio was acerbic in a pleasurable way.  His biting wit was at once tempting and revolting.  Her rationale knew better than to get involved with such a boorish character, but her hubris caused her to lucubrate during nights they weren’t together as to how to channel his discourse into intercourse.


Though he ruminated as to why he consistently chose women who were nymphatic, disingenuine and inane, he was happy he had a woman who could turn heads with her physique.

3.    Sapiosexuals actually LISTEN to lyrics of songs and will happily choose Leonard Cohen over Lil Wayne.  The brain must be stimulated and teased with feathery words, not shanked by “in your face” sexual terminology.

4.   A Sapiosexual understands that the best foreplay is a philosophical discussion.  Or a debate without anger but filled with respect for the other’s thoughts.  Or a union of words, emotions and thoughts made flesh.  Mind and flesh orgasms are the best!

5.   A Sapiosexual  will analyze before they finalize.  They are informed not just opinionated. They know what constitutes an impractical Utopian.

6.  A Sapiosexual is more impressed by the flexing of the intellect than the flexing of the biceps.

So….do any of these describe you?


Date Night with Glen…Another Perfect Date





Glen has been calling me since Saturday.  As the condescending blonde I can often times be, I ignored his begging.  All women know that there are times when even the best of dates can be boring, and God knows I get bored easily. Also, sometimes  begging is a big ego boost for me.  After a horrific Saturday late night, a “God why did I do that” Sunday and a typical “I hate Mondays” I gladly and oh so willingly answered his call.  Why I resisted I don’t know.  I mean he is “THE”.  Right?

So after a few getting to know each other again hours,  and a few trivial discussions about baseball, The Texas Rangers of course,  egos and sincerity, he held me close in his barley arms and we got, as we always do deep.  At this point, I must confess:  I really like the smell of GlenLivet.  Usually, it’s Armani Code  Black that does it, but Glen’s natural essence is oh so sexy!  

I began to feel relaxed and less tense than I had in days.  Glen isn’t intimidated by me.  He loves all the things that every other masculine name except my son has disliked about me.  And then it happened.   Like a verbal orgasm,  my worries, fears, concerns and tears spilled out convulsively.  I’m not one of those obnoxious people who date aged single malts and get all blubbery.  I NEVER do that.  But I did on this date.  And you know what Glen did?  He listened.  And listened.  And then listened some more.  I suppose its his many years of being casked up that has made him so sultry and elegant.  I mean, if you spend that much time alone with your thoughts and pure Scottish mountain air, how could you not distill into something so wonderful as Glen?

Glen doesn’t talk, but when I looked into his amber eyes, he told me how beautiful I am.  He did!  Okay, so I was seeing my reflection in the tumbler, my boobs aren’t perky, I have a few more wrinkles and pounds, and can’t get out of tickets like I used to when I drive too fast, but by GOD I’m still damned hot!   He pleaded with me to release all my pent up stress.  He lauded me for being strong over the weekend for my kids.  He admired me for having conviction and for keeping my promises.  He even reminded me I am behind on my writing.  He made me not worry about my finances.

Glen understands me.  He doesn’t judge.  He knows I don’t have a dirty mind, just a sexy imagination.  He places my level of happiness directly proportionate to his availability.  He wants nothing more to please me.  He agrees with me that most people don’t really care about you, just themselves.   And when our fluids mingle and we become one, its warm, then hot, then free. And its that good kind of freedom, you know the one I mean?  The total freedom to say, do, feel the way you want without worry that you’re hurting someone’s feelings, sensibilities or security.  The freedom to uncover that smallest Russian doll that lives within us.  I don’t let many people see mine.  In fact, the last one I did ended badly and now I don’t know that I have it in me to do it again.  I need a strong person in my life. I also need and miss my Aristotle.

Glen knows these things about me.  I love him for that.  Unfortunately, his strength is a bit much for some and they become addicted to him.  Or maybe its just they become addicted to the fact he unlocks their inner doors and forces them to look at their earlier selves.  I don’t share him with people I know can’t handle his allure.  I don’t share him with people who aren’t ready to unlock when they’re not under his or any of his lesser cousins’ influence.  I told you I could be a condescending blonde at times.  I can be pushy and sneaky too.  Glen didn’t tell anyone when my batteries ran out and I stole one from the television remote and forgot to replace it.

Glenlivet keeps really good secrets.  It’s me that shares them.





Sharing My Novel: Portion of Chapter Five


Here’s another part of a chapter from my novel. The first one is here if you want to read it. I will be finished with this in the next 90 days. ( I hope and my agent insists!)  It’s set in East Texas.  It’s about women finding themselves through their daughters, through their regrets, through sex.   I hope to capture the ambiance, the hypocrisy, the love and the jealousy….I want your emotions as you read to feel as if they’ve eaten at a Fusion restaurant and tingled all their taste buds.  Constructive criticism invited.  Hatefulness denied 🙂


Chloe Walker

Chloe stared out the window of her rural home wondering how her life had come to this point. The garden that had once made her so happy was viral with skunkweed. She had not even taken cuttings of her prize winning black iris and their withered stalks reminded her of shrunken voodoo heads; the once lush, velvet petals were now prunish and dank. She caught a glimpse of herself staring out the window and her face morphed with the view of the forgotten flowers….her now noticeable spider veins mimicked the spider webs around her roses. Her one-time firm Audrey Hepburn-like neck looked more like the folds that jiggled each time the former Texas Governor, Anne Richards spoke or moved her head and at once, Chloe realized she shouldn’t be talking badly about the dead, especially the sacred Anne Richards. It was Texas blasphemy to speak ill of the dead, especially the hallowed second woman governor of Texas, Anne Richards. Anne Richards has posed on the cover of Texas Monthly with a Harley. Anne Richards gave the opening speech for that sexy president Bill Clinton.  Chloe’s mother, the one-time Democratic Party chair for East Texas would roll over in her grave if she had heard Chloe’s thoughts, even though she too knew Anne Richards’ neck jiggled like a turkey wattle.

“Oh what the hell,” she murmured out loud, “if Vernard finds out about the phone bank in the utility room, it’ll be my soul that should be prayed for, and Mama could just get in line behind him.”

Her husband Vernard never darkened the doorway of the utility room, as that was “the wifely domain” as he told his fishing buddies.  He had no idea that she was paying for their daughter Lilly’s pageant career with her “side” business: 1-866-HOT MAMA. He thought she was working in the computer/utility room every night on the “at home business” she had found on one of those late night TV programs that promised you could work at home and make big money. She was making big money alright, but Vernard didn’t know she was making it by talking about things with strange men that she would NEVER say to Vernard for $3.99 a minute, much less do. God, how had her life come to this?

She had never asked herself that question before now.  All she knew is that she wanted more for her daughter, more than her parents had ever afforded her. More than Vernard could give her.   Hell, her Democratic, Baptist Mother wouldn’t even let her try out for high school cheerleader because “the skirts were too short” and it “wasn’t becoming to an upstanding young lady.”

“What would the neighbors say Chloe?” her mother said to her.  “They would talk every Sunday morning at church about how those Friday night cheerleaders do nothing but stir a boy’s filthy thoughts and I won’t have you being the swizzle stick in a boy’s poisonous mind.”

Chloe knew that arguing with her Mama was a moot point and since she had no brothers or sisters, not even a Dad, there was no one to take her side.  Lilly wouldn’t grow up that way.  Never.  Chloe would always be there to take Lilly’s side, even if Vernard disagreed, like he had with the pageants.

“We can not afford those damned pageants Chloe and besides, I don’t need a table of 5 old women and gay men telling me my daughter is beautiful, she don’t need some damned crown for me to know that” Vernard had ranted.

“Besides, them pageants costs more than a month’s worth of fishing bait and tackle, think of all the fish fry’s we won’t be having because you’re putting Lilly in them pageants… foolishness I tell ya”.  His thin lips pursed into a straight line and Chloe knew that was the sign he was not going to listen to more.

Chloe had decided right then that she would pay for Lilly’s pageant career come hell or high water.  Nine year old Lilly wanted to be the queen of Texas.  By God, Chloe would find her a way to do it.  “So it’s the money you’re worried about Vernard? Then fine, I’ll get a job, and I’ll pay for her lessons and clothes and entry fees.  It won’t cost you one stupid cent of your minnow bait.”  And that was that.

Before Lilly was born, Chloe had been happy to be living in a doublewide mobile home on the outskirts of Elysian Fields.   She tended her garden and was even awarded garden of the month by the Cowboy Creek Church of Christ.  She and Vernard fished, drank beer with their friends at the lake on the weekends and went about life like she had always known it in Elysian Fields.  But times were changing.  Lilly needed more, and Chloe wanted Lilly to have more.  More than Chloe was ever given.  Chloe knew that she couldn’t afford one of those houses in the “new folk” development of Elysian Fields, but she COULD afford for Lilly to participate in the pageants that all her friends were entering.  Lilly’s dance teacher, that strange Pansy Moss, had grabbed Chloe on a Tuesday night after Lilly’s dance lesson and gone on and on about how well Lilly was doing in ballet.

“Mizz Walker, Lilly has a God-given talent for grace,” Pansy had gushed to Chloe.  There is a preliminary pageant coming up next month in Elysian Fields and I think you should enter Lilly.  She is beautiful and she could do her new ballet for talent.  Here’s the entry information, and be sure to write that she takes lessons at Elysian Fields Elite Studio, okay?”

Chloe was stunned.  She never knew there were pageants in East Texas.  She had only seen Miss America on television.  “I guess this is how they start,” she mumbled to herself on the drive home.

“Mama, can I be a beauty queen too?” Lilly had asked her.  “Millay and Echo and Violet are all going to do it, and I want to too,” she had exclaimed on the way home.  Millay and Echo had moved here from Dallas and were well-liked by Lilly and her friends, though they were younger than the Dallas girls.  Millay’s mother and father lived in the home the people of Elysian Fields had nicknamed “the castle” and those that didn’t know how kind the Costas’s were, called Millay, “that little Dallas princess”.  Chloe had become friends with Iris Costas and adored the family.  Echo, on the other hand, was the daughter of the hoity-toity Cassandra Cushing, a woman Chloe did not like at all.  Echo was nothing like her mother and Chloe believed the Salon gossip that it was because there was a rumor that Echo was adopted.    She didn’t word her thoughts to Lilly, as Lilly wanted to be just like Millay and Echo.  There were worse people she could idolize, Chloe thought to herself.

“Can I Mama, can I be a beauty queen?” Lilly begged.

“Well Lilly honey, we’ll ask your Daddy and see what he says,” Chloe soothed her daughter’s pleas.  “I’m sure he will be fine with it.”  Chloe sheltered Lilly from the truth about Vernard.  If this was something Lilly wanted, then Lilly would have it.  Besides, Chloe had once wanted to be Miss America….if she couldn’t, maybe Lilly could.

The day she bought 1-866-HOT MAMA she got 10 phone calls.  One even lasted 10 minutes.  The first few calls she felt badly about, because the guys hung up after a minute, even though they contractually paid for three.   She had stuttered and answered the phone on the first ring with, “Th-this is your h-hot mama, what can I do for you h-honey?” When the heavy breathing teen with the crackling pubescent voice said, “I don’t want to fuck my Mama” and hung up, she realized she needed to think of a better way to answer the phone.  It wasn’t as if she had ever looked for DIY books or websites on phone sex, so Chloe set about educating herself.

She was shocked to realize she had not categorized her phone sex business as a non-taboo business.  When a smarmy sounding man called asking if she got off on dead bodies, she immediately hung up.  A few days later, another heavily accented man called asking her to sound like she was twelve.  A picture of Lilly immediately entered her head, and again she pushed the “off” button on her phone.  She couldn’t imagine letting Vernard seeing her naked before she got in bed, much less talking about sex with dead bodies and little kids.  Damn!  She immediately changed her website information to say “non-taboo” and started reading articles on the Internet on marketing her business.  She learned she needed to start frequenting rooms and forums on AOL and Yahoo.  She joined Twitter and discreetly tweeted about her website the start-up company had made for her.  There was so much to learn: how men liked blow jobs, what words really turned them on, fantasies about their school or college teachers.  In learning about her business, Chloe realized that it was much like raising prize Iris…the more stately and plush the flower, the better specimen you had.

She began reading Cosmopolitan every other week at the Beauty Salon to get tips on how to make a man happy because she knew she couldn’t talk about fishing for $3.99 a minute.  She listened to the women talk and began to imitate their cadences and voice inflections that sounded sexy to her.  No man had ever talked to her about her voice, especially Vernard, so when one of her clients had commented that her voice wasn’t that sexy, Chloe realized that she could make it better.  Cassandra Cushing had been at the Salon a few times when she was there, and her voice was the one Chloe tried the hardest to imitate.  Cassandra’s voice reminded Chloe of Kathleen Turner’s voice in Body Heat; in fact, Cassandra even looked like the movie star except she had Marilyn Monroe blonde hair.  Still, Chloe wasn’t fond of Cassandra Cushing, though she knew she was the best pageant consultant to hit Elysian Fields in many years she had heard.  Chloe’s friend Iris Costas introduced them and it was hard to believe that Iris could be such good friends with Cassandra—they were so different!  Iris was different from most women of Elysian Fields.  She had only lived there for a few years, but in that time, she had become one of the town’s leading women: always willing to help, never said a rude thing about anyone and each time her daughter Millay won a pageant title, no one ever complained, because Iris and Millay were so sweet. Cassandra, on the other hand, never looked at you in the eye when she spoke and paid more attention to the men of the town than the women.   Chloe wished she could be more like Iris, and reveled in their friendship.  She had thought about telling Iris about her business, as she knew Iris would not be judgmental, but decided against it.  She was embarrassed of her newfound endeavor, but at the same time loved the way it made her feel—so liberated!  She didn’t have to rely on Vernard financially anymore and even though it was phone sex, there was something secretly stimulating about it all.

Things were changing in Chloe’s life.   She began having sex with Vernard on days other than Friday, convincing herself that it was good for the business. Vernard was happily pleased and told her she should have started her own business long ago.

“This home business thing is good for ya honey,” he murmured after one surprisingly sexual Tuesday night. Chloe smiled secretly as she rolled over to pretend sleep.  Late night was her busiest time and she was beginning to enjoy her late night phone calls.

The first few times she said the ‘F-word’ in telephonic hushed tones she blushed, but after the third day, it began peppering each of her sentences like a repressed prude with a can of mace.  She was even getting repeat callers.  One, a man who would never give his name, was especially enticing to Chloe. He only wanted to talk about her and what made her feel sexy.  It was easy talking to him, and she had even begun to use “naughty” words when describing what she liked.  She told him after their last conversation that she felt badly for charging him but he convinced her that he didn’t mind at all.   He also told her that one day she could return the favor.  She began to look forward to his nightly calls.

After the first month, Chloe had enough money to hire a designer seamstress to make Lilly’s pageant dress.  She was going to go all glitz and glamour.  She pored over the Swarovski Crystal catalogues daily to choose just the right stones for Lilly’s dress.   Chloe had always wanted a crystal chandelier for her mobile home, but she would settle for one on Lilly’s dress.  Her next step would be to schedule an appointment with Cassandra Cushing.  Only the best for Lilly.

And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:
And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Bible, Matthew (ch. VII, v. 28-29)

©Gayle N. Jackson all rights reserved.

Another Night with Glen…Livet




Those of you who read this blog know that I have sporadic dates with Glen:  Glenlivet.   I have teens at home, so I don’t indulge in other recreational calmers at home, but Glen, well, he usually has the same effect on me.  One of the fun things about dating Glen is that he likes to get into deep conversations with me (Okay, he really doesn’t, but it makes me feel like I’m not just a drunk dating a bottle of Scotch) I usually share my thoughts the next day.  Here’s today’s synopsis of our date night:

  • Viagra.  Male Enhancement.  Cialis.  Okay guys, I want you to be really, really truthful.  You don’t have to answer in a public forum, but be honest with yourselves.  Promise?  How many of you who have taken the magic purple pill have secretly wished YOU were the one who had to go the Dr. after 4 hours of a sustained erection?  Come on, admit it!  Wouldn’t it make you feel virile?  Think of all the people that would look at you…not your fault, it’s the purple pill’s fault.  Right?  I know not of any other drug that would make someone secretly wish they suffered from the side effects except this one.
  • Male characters in modern movies that appeal to the sapiosexual.  I’ve noticed that the movies I like the most have intellectually gifted leading characters with emotional issues.  Mel Gibson in Braveheart.  James Spader in Sex, Lies and Videotapes.  Daniel Craig in Skyfall (okay, not just for his intellect).  John Wayne in the Searchers.  Al Pacino in The Godfather. Russell Crowe in A Beautiful Mind.  Guy Pierce in Memento. Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting.  Leonardo DiCaprio in Inception.  I could go on and on.    All of these men are the kind I’m attracted to:  they’re intelligent, they have principles and they’re flawed.  They don’t wallow in self-absorption, they fight against their weaknesses.   They have skeletons in their closets that they embrace, but don’t use as crutches.   All of them are attracted to emotionally strong women who can help them.   My kind of men!
  • Baseball Spring Training in 4 more sleeps!  So what if the baseball pundits say the Rangers are not going to make the playoffs?  I so love a challenge!
  • “we accept the love we think we deserve.”
    ―    Stephen Chbosky,    The Perks of Being a Wallflower
  • “And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.”
    ―    Stephen Chbosky,    The Perks of Being a Wallflower
  • “So, I guess we are who we are for alot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them. But even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.”
    ―    Stephen Chbosky,    The Perks of Being a Wallflower
  • “It’s just that I don’t want to be somebody’s crush. If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am. And I don’t want them to carry it around inside. I want them to show me, so I can feel it too.”
    ―    Stephen Chbosky,    The Perks of Being a Wallflower
  • “And all the books you’ve read have been read by other people. And all the songs you’ve loved have been heard by other people. And that girl that’s pretty to you is pretty to other people. and that if you looked at these facts when you were happy, you would feel great because you are describing ‘unity.”
    ―    Stephen Chbosky,    The Perks of Being a Wallflower
  • As you can see from above, I watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower.  I read the book a while ago.  I forgot how much I loved it.  I love the movie too.  So did Glen.




The Psychology of Attraction

Geraldo Rivera--Exposing Myself, 1991

Geraldo Rivera–Exposing Myself, 1991

I can’t help being a romantic. I just can’t. I’ve been through a torrid marriage. I’ve had 2 online relationships; one was “bleh” the other was “OMG!!!!” Neither worked. So I’ve had plenty of time to analyze and dissect and take stock of myself and what I deem important in a relationship. Since Valentine’s Day is less than two weeks away, I thought you, my loyal reader, would be interested in having this conversation with me. Why are we attracted to certain people?

From Pyschology Today (my go to magazine/website for all things Psych)

The Charm Offensive

When two hearts beat as one.

Charisma is charm in neon lights, a social gift we can’t help but respond to when we see it. A person with charisma—think: Oprah—may bend the light waves in a room, oozing confidence and self-esteem, and we move closer because confidence makes others feel good. A person’s self-esteem guides our instant evaluations: “Hmm, if she likes herself, there must be something there for me to like, too.”

The deep secret of charismatic people, however, may be their ability to create synchrony, to induce you to adjust your bearing, speech rate, even heart rate—through locking eyes, through touch, or simply because you feel a strong rapport. Researchers believe our strongest perceptions of mutual attraction develop in those first encounters where two people have a measurable physiological reaction to one another. It’s not exactly chemistry—it’s more like electricity.

—Hara Estroff Marano

This is so very true!  I like to think I have a bit of charisma (Yeah, I could be delusional) but my experiences with charismatic people is extensive.  Back in the 90’s when Geraldo Rivera had his own show, I was invited to be a guest.  I happily flew to New York and felt all important that I was going to meet “THE GERALDO” (this was before his Capone debacle)  The hotel was nice, the limo driver sweet and then it was time to meet Geraldo.  While sitting in the green room enjoying coffee and the company of the other authors (I had met before)  I analyzed how so many people become so full of themselves for so little reason. (yeah Mark, that last remark was aimed at you, remember our discussion that day?) Anyway, Geraldo came in to introduce himself to us all before taping.  I promise….as soon as he walked into the room it felt like light angles changed.  It felt like there was a totally different atmosphere.  It felt….ELECTRIC!  Okay, okay, I know you’re reading this thinking I’m one of those “celebrity worshipers” but if you know me well, you know I’m not.  I was astounded!  He truly had charisma and it was a palpable feeling.  I had to catch my breath!  For a quick second, I hesitated as if I had nothing to say (see?  I told you I was astounded) then I regained my composure and talked to him about his book.  He graciously chatted and then offered to sign it.  Of course, he made a sexual innuendo in the signature, but I promise, this man is charismatic! I had never thought of Geraldo as attractive physically, though I always respected his penchant for investigative reporting.  (and his hair!!!)  But after meeting him, it was evident to me why he was so successful.

I had this same experience with a man I dated for several years before getting married.  I think I’ve talked about it before, but won’t bore you now.  I’ll save it for later.  The point is, he and I had a palpable attraction….one that other people could feel when they were with us.

Have you ever had this kind of experience?  And if so, did you marry them?  Did it last?  Did you just walk away?

I want synchrony in my next relationship, if I have one.  I never realized how exciting and important it is!

Stimulating Reads for Valentine’s Day

So this will be one of those Valentine Days that I loathed when I was young and single. No great sex. No great romance. Not even a thought of great love. So what does a hopeless romantic do?

Read a racy book or two…or three.

Fifty Shades of Grey notwithstanding, I thought I would pass along a book that I’m about to reread as well as 2 more from the same author…Nicholas Baker.

Lately it seems I’m drawn to men with a little paunch, a beard and huge passion. In fact, that could be my next relationship trinity.  (Guy Garvey anyone?)

I won’t spoil the ending, but these 3 books are all erotic as well as thought-provoking and sometimes humorous.   I would dearly love to discuss any of them on a moonlit night with an intelligent man….beard optional.



Baker has written a novel that remaps the territory of sex–solitary and telephonic, lyrical and profane, comfortable and dangerous. Written in the form of a phone conversation between two strangers, Vox is an erotic classic that places the author in the first rank of America’s major writers. Reading tour.


Shandee finds a friendly arm at a granite quarry. Ned drops down a hole in a golf course. So begins Nicholson Baker’s fuse-blowing sexual escapade—a modern-day Hieronymus Boschian bacchanal set in a pleasure resort where normal rules don’t apply. House of Holes, one of the most talked-about books in recent memory, is a gleefully provocative novel sure to surprise, amuse, and arouse.
the fermata
The Fermata is a 1994 novel by Nicholson Baker. It is about a man named Arno Strine who can stop time, and uses this ability to embark on a series of sexual adventures