Who Needs a Lovelife...I have Pinterest

Figured it is about time for me to attempt a new post. I originally was going to add the Pinterest Button in the "openly stalk me" section, but as you may have guessed, I do not remember how in the heck to do that. HA!

So, I thought I would write a little and  put that little sucker right here. But, can't figure out that either so just follow this link   --->STALK ME ON PINTEREST

This should allow you to openly stalk me on Pinterest. I don't spend a whole lot of time there...oh, who am I kidding? I spend HOURS there. I don't always "pin", but oh, I'm there! Browsing things I love; clawfoot tubs, photography, and anything involving hot glue or velcro; looking at pictures of places I would like to visit; Greece, Australia, and the ever popular, worlds largest ball of twine; and lastly, finding things I can, but will never have the time, to make. (Note- I have the time to collect the items needed.) This would explain why I have a broken dresser drawer, 23 empty Mason Jars, and all the wickless wax from the last 4 months of candle burning.
Someday I will make something very cool.
*NOTE* In the very likely event that the little code up there did NOT take you anywhere, oops! I will be back to fix it. :) And in the crazy, unheard of event you do not know what Pinterest is, then you need to get out more! GO THERE. It is very cool. GET OUT MORE...START HERE!

So, other than Pinterest, what am I going to blog about? Good question.
What else is there?  Just kidding.

There is my love life. Oh no...we won't go there. My parents READ this! Heck, my KIDS read this!

(*Note to my parents, my children and my bestie, Crystal.

No, there is not a mystery boyfriend you do not know about. I am being humorous. 

DO NOT start blowing up my phone!)

There is my new book...{insert intense John Williams theme music here}

Abrupt end to music..

"Details Soon"

Next...my job...it's killing me. Literally. So, moving right along.

My kids....are absolutely great. But, they still won't write Ellen ( a post about this). UGH!

My friends....still the coolest on the planet. Without them, I would....well, I would drink the wine by myself and it would last a lot longer, and I would probably enjoy the wine itself a lot more....hmmm? Again, just kidding, I wouldn't drink ALL the wine.

My parents....what can I say. They rock!

Ah, my new apartment.
Yes! It is wonderful! Spacious 5 bedroom upper in the heart of downtown. River is about 3 blocks away. My new hair girl is two blocks. Record store around the corner. Truly love living downtown. In fact, got some good shots of the moon the other night. Wanna see?

 And there is a gorgeous church about 5 blocks that is lit up at night..

(I can actually see the steeple from my windows)

So, as you can see, I have the camera back out as well. Yes, the photography bug has caught up to me once again. I spent the weekend taking a lot of pictures. Went on a walk with my granddaughter and took some of her, too....

There you have it. My life. A great view.  A new pad. Surrounded by awesome cuteness. 

And, I have  Pinterest.

Who needs a love life?

Until next time,
~Kimberly

Too Much Testosterone and a Red Microwave

Someone said to me that they like my witty posts and then asked, "Why did you stop?"
I didn't stop. I really didn't. My little mind is turning and churning with thoughts and wit...Then it hit me....oh nobody else is in here...I get it.

So, what have I been up to? Well, let me enlighten you....

For four months I worked 13 days in a row for 1 off. At my job I tray, pack, sweep, load, unload, clean, tray, pack, sweep, load, unload, and clean--repeat as necessary.
It's a great job and I love it, but it's not funny. Thank goodness we are on a 5 day work week again!

On to the next thing....my son turned 18 a couple months ago. My last of five to enter into adulthood. Which basically means I can now move to Tahiti, The Bahamas, Cozumel....pick one! However, I have spent my whole adult life raising children and have not a dime saved. True story, but not funny.

Next, I have been counseling my sister who is in marital turmoil. More specifically, her husband of 22 years just walked away. Again, not funny...

So, what is funny in my world? All of the above. Yes, believe it or not, in some way or another, I can find humor in any situation...it's a gift.

Starting with work...can we say too much testosterone? Seriously. It's like being married sometimes. I work in a man's world and they are seeping testosterone all over the place. Of course, not a one of 'em has as much as they think they do. And, like a having a husband, I need less medication as time goes on but the desire to throw heavy objects increases dramatically. Is there balance? Haven't found it yet. I make funny faces behind their backs and usually say something, completely inappropriate, amid the roar of loud machinery. When they turn my way, I just smile and give a thumbs up. That part is funny.
By the time I get a day off (even during a 5 day work week) my house is a wreck, my laundry piled high, my fridge is empty, my sink is full, and my gas light is on. I am exhausted, my feet hurt, my back hurts, and I want large bottles of Tylenol washed down with cold bottles of Miller Lite! That, too, has proven to be funny. Especially, if I throw an Ambien in the mix. Okay...now I am just kidding, but you get the idea.

Next, my 18 year old who loves to lay claim to fame with the ever popular, "I am an adult now" statement, usually bombards me with, "Hey, will you buy me a pop", "I'm starving", or "What's for dinner?"
I kindly remind him how much his rent will be, how much I will charge for cleaning services, taxi service, babysitting service, and how I want my eggs done when he fixes ME breakfast! He shuts up pretty quick. That is pretty funny.

And finally....marital turmoil. I recently told my sister I want to write a new book entitled, "Who Needs Therapy-I Have A Sister." It would be a collection of our e-mails to each other during this madness.
Her husband, who I now refer to as "WHF" (What's His Face) has experienced something between a mid-life crisis and The 'Don't look now, cause I am about to prove to you what an idiot I am and how everyone knows it but you' Syndrome. And yes, that really is a thing. Most men have it but only show occasional symptoms, therefore it is overlooked in most formal diagnosis'. (Sorry, guys....probably a really bad time for you to choose to follow, but super glad you are here.)

Let me say, for the record, I am not a "man-hater". Really, I am not. I love men. My sons are men. My brothers are men. Even my dad is a man. So, I do truly LOVE men. It's husbands I hate! Those guys are just dumb! Any husbands out there reading this...how many times in the last week have you said "oh Sh!%..." and fumbled with how you were going to explain something to your wife? Be honest. That's what I thought. And if you said "none", don't think you are in the clear....she WILL find out!
And, for the record, I don't hate ALL husbands. My friends are married to some of the good guys and my mom did okay for her self and I guess my sister-in-law got lucky too, but, well, my point has been made.

(*Special note to WHF...Don't worry about it...we will take care of each other!!! DUH!)

So, that's what I have been up to. Took a look at my previous post that listed the top 10 things I want to do in 2012. I think that was it. Notice I said "took at look at my previous post..." It did not say DOING THE THINGS on my previous post.
But, pretty sure I covered the procrastination part. That is also a syndrome and I totally have it.

But, from the list...I have not gone on nor taken myself on a date; real or otherwise. I did take my son through the McDonald's drive-thru twice but pretty sure that doesn't count.
I have not stopped smoking nor lost a few pounds. Neither one of those things interested me in the slightest so were moved to the bottom of the list to be done AFTER I complete the things on the top of the list.
I have not organized my house, although I have found a new one. More about that later. But I will say it is a FIVE, count 'em...FIVE bedroom upper, close to the river, with a jacuzzi tub so it's all good.

Now, I have been writing...Book #2 is coming to life. That does make me smile a lot. Oh, hey that was on the list, too!
And, I bought that fire engine red microwave!
Pretty much sums it up! Will be moving into the new place this next weekend and with an apartment that is intoxicating with inspiration, that new book will be on the shelf before we know it!
And more posts will be on here. I always post when inspired.

So, to my friend who likes my witty posts and asked why I stopped...
I didn't stop!
That will never happen.

Until next time,
Kimberly

Where's My Creative Flow?

Write.
File. Select all. Delete.
Write.
Repeat.
What is wrong with my creative flow? Where are my words of wisdom? Humor? New thought provoking posts, are empty pages or lonely drafts, unseen by others and taunting to me.
There was one about my Princess status being revoked, complete with my utter dismay, chronological analyzation, and a major bashing of all known "Princes"...respect for my male followers put that one on the "Save for Later" list.
The one about my job and the amount of testosterone I am amid daily, comparing it to marriage, due to my need for medication and the desire to throw heavy objects, was completely deleted as it was somewhat incriminating and, while, hysterically funny, not a good idea-I still work there!
And the one about my sister and her recent dealing with marital abandonment and complete disrespect by her husband of 22 years, my dumb-ass brother in law, What's His Face, is being saved and turned into a private, personal email that I will send when the time is right.
So, what's left?
Well, there is Christmas and the Santa debate. You know the one where people don't believe. I mean, come on. That notion that the parents do the gifts and eat the cookies. That can't be right. My parents would NOT come into my house in the middle of the night, leave presents under the tree and eat the cookies. They just wouldn't DO that. Besides, we go to their house and exchange gifts. They don't need to do it in secret. So, that idea just doesn't hold water. So, that post didn't either. It's an open and shut case! Santa is real!


So, that leaves the stand by post for end of year creative drought....

Things to Accomplish in 2012

Most lists I have seen have 100.  However, due to a severe and chronic case of procrastination, I will start with 10. These are in no particular order...

Go on a Real Date. (*Note: Going to the corner bar, the drive-thru at McDonalds or running to Kmart is NOT a date!)
Organize the House (this could take most of 2012 and should not be taken lightly or seriously...a 2-1/2- year-old lives here with her 18-year-old father!)
Stop Smoking (YEAH....there is the humor!)
Lose Weight (this would be weight gained by trying/accomplishing the above goal! Thinking ahead here!)
Write More (Write in this blog, expand on novel #2, finish a couple short stories, catch up on letters to family/friends, emails, notes to the kids, and write and send a letter to Santa to thank him!)
Smile More at the People I Meet. After all, I paid a lot of money for these teeth....May as well show 'em off!
Regain Princess Status...can be done with a pair fancy shoes, a shiny diamond necklace, and a new sparkly dress! Or, according to my granddaughter, I can marry a Prince...I'll take the shoes!
Redecorate My Kitchen Can you say fire engine red microwave?
Take Myself on a Date. (*Note: Going to the corner bar, the drive-thru at McDonalds or running to Kmart IS a date!)
Sleep Sounder, Dream Bigger, Live Fuller, Eat Better, Love Unconditionally, and Always, and I mean ALWAYS, Have an Alibi!

Write.
File. Select all. Post
Write.
Repeat.

Until Next Time,
Kimberly

Sorry it's not tomorrow....

In my life of working, children, friends, Twitter, calling my mother, emailing my sister, drinking an occasional beer with my father and coffee with my brother, there is still time to sleep a little, shower quickly, drive fast, and eat while I smoke. Yet, in the midst of all this living, I think. I think about the things I will do tomorrow.

My laundry for one. Grocery shopping for another. I still want to hang a new picture I bought 9 days ago!!! And then there is writing. I write in my mind all day long. I write at work, on the phone, in my car, and while I sleep. I think about writing all the time. I come home and jot a few things down. Then I say, I will post that tomorrow....

This is NOT tomorrow. I am very sorry my posts have disappeared. Please hang in there and know I will be back. I will get used to this overwhelming grind of work and being a grown up and will start posting again. I have a pile of notes, thoughts, and ideas.

Thoughts take over my day. My mind swirls and spins in a menagerie of words, stories, posts, jokes, quotes, and just plain silly stuff.

A quote came into my life today from Lady Chatterley's Lover,

"A woman has to live her life, or live to repent not having lived it."

Are we doing this? And not just women....men too. As PEOPLE, are we doing this? When I am 60, is it going to matter that I worked 71 hours this week? Probably, but only when I go in for my hip replacement!

All kidding aside, I will ponder this quote and it's meaning until I can post a meaningful thought. Or until a better one comes into my mind. Until then, what are your thoughts on it?

Are you living your life? Are you setting yourself up to regret that you didn't.

There are things in my life that I am putting off. I am putting it off until tomorrow. Until my day off. Until winter is over. Until the kids move out.

Until John Cusack.....well yeah, you get the idea!

So, you ponder this. Write your own thoughts, ideas, jokes, quotes, or just plain silly stuff.

And while you do that, I am going to hang up this really cool picture I bought!!!!

Until next time,

Kimberly

For my "Jilly"...

This will not be a post full of laughs and attempts at satire that I usually engage in. It will not be free from mentions of my book. It will be from the heart. Wrote straight from there with no rewrites or edits. It will be real. So, if you read my stuff for the chuckles, this may disappoint you. For that, I apologize. I also apologize for mentions of the book here as I promised I wouldn't do that on the main page. I am not mentioning it for sales boost or exposure. It is necessary for this post to make any sense at all. Sense that, only I, will benefit from, as it is, I suppose, therapeutic or perhaps my way to just get it out. For that I also apologize for- but also thank you, for allowing me to do it.
So, what is this all about?
Well, when I was little I met this woman. A crazy, silly, fantastically odd, wonderful woman from Alabama. She was my father's aunt. And she was like no adult I had ever met. She would come to town and in her wild choice of dress, usually something in large floral print with an outrageously funny hat, and with her thick southern accent, make her presence known in our small family. She was a bright shining light in my otherwise dull Iowa life.  
She would be so excited to see me. She would talk to me about her brother, who she called "Bubba"- my grandfather- who I had never met. She could tell a story and make you feel like you knew every person she talked about. Stories complete with  names and places, silly in origin, that to anyone else, would seem completely fictional, yet I knew every word, every place, and every character were real. And they were all my family. Extended family that I had never met, yet I felt like I knew each and every one of them.
Each time she would visit, the stories would be told. She would talk of family with great love. She loved our family history and researched it with passion. She would share her findings with excitement and pride.
As I grew older, my relationship with her grew as well. We would write to each other often and she would share details of her life-from the flowers blooming in her yard, to what she had for breakfast, or who came for a visit. Trips to town she took on her bicycle and talks with friends she met along the way were included in vivid detail. Secrets, advice, thoughts, poetry, and life changes were shared by each of us.
We shared in the births of my children and her enjoyment that our family legacy would continue. She would refer to my children by their full given names, just as she would refer to me with my own. The only one to call me Kimberly without the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up. I always thought this funny as everyone else she had ever known, including herself, had a nickname.
We continued to write and occasionally spoke on the phone. As she aged, her travels ceased and her life became less mobile, but still entertaining to her.  I cherished her letters, written eloquently and with detail as vibrant as she was in person.
We shared over 25 years of correspondence before she shared with me that her sight was going and her Parkinson's disease was taking control of her life. While her passion remained and her mind sharp as ever, her physical being suffered.
A caregiver started writing the words she told her to write. She asked me to come care for her.
Although my life over the years was great, it had been as wild and crazy as one could imagine and stability was never used to describe it. With children still at home, I was not in a position to move and be with her. As much as I wanted to help her and be with her, I could not. While I was sure she was in good hands, I wanted to be there and she knew that. I continued to write but I received less and less correspondence back as time went on. I sent her pictures of my family and continued to keep her posted on life in Iowa.

A letter came in early fall 2009 that I won't share details here, but it was a plea of sorts. To carry on her legacy. To not let things end. That letter filled me with bittersweet memories of her and of our unique long distant friendship. Also, building inside me was a strong desire to visit the place she so vividly painted. The place in all the stories. To see the walls that held the love she spoke of. To see her again. To watch her tell the stories. To see her face light up, her eyes twinkle and to be swallowed in that smile and surrounded by that laugh when she humored herself.

Despite desire, I had responsibility at home. I had my children and my work. I talked with my son many times about taking the trip south to that tiny Alabama town that would put us in the middle of our heritage. Near the heritage that she had instilled, first, in me, and then in my son, who, years earlier, had stumbled upon her letters and started his own family research. To the tiny southern town that housed our family home. The one she was born in, that my grandfather grew up in and where my own father played as a child. The place in the stories that I had heard since I was a young girl and where I longed to be.
To be with her. Holding her hand as she told me more stories. As she told me of my grandfather. Of my great-grandmother and of herself. Stories of her as a teen making a beauty mark on her face with charcoal and of my grandfather curling her hair with the iron heated in the oil lamp. Stories that I had heard over and over but never tired of hearing.

In winter of 2010, I began writing the story that would become my first novel.  All I knew at the time was it involved a little girl and she had a story to tell. I did not know then what that story was.
Then, in what I call a twist of fate, I had the ability to go to Alabama.
Feeling an urgency to visit her, my son and I left on the 13 hour journey to Alabama. We spent a week with  my lifetime friend. Recovering from an illness in a nursing rehab facility, her physical being was weak but her mind was still sharp, remembering dates, times, places and the people in her life who had meant the world to her- many who had passed from this life before her. My son and I stayed in her home. The family home. A painting in my mind, came to life as I walked into the house. The beauty of the memories she shared were there; I could touch them and smell them. I felt at home.

She and my son spoke of generations of the past and he promised to continue her research as she admitted her eyes were not well enough to proceed. Though she spoke of going home from the nursing facility she was in, she knew in her heart, that was only a wish. And I knew, that place would be her new home. It saddened me when I listened to the quiet of the house that it would pass from our family into the legacy of another. But, the memories and the love would stay with me. Those I would keep.

She told me of the journals that she wrote in everyday and told me to take them home with me. "They contain the words of our family, Kimberly. Take them home and read them to your children." she said. Although, she gave them to me, I could not bring myself to do as she asked. I told her I would get them when I came again in the summer.

The morning before we left Alabama to return home, we visited her again. And again, she told me, "this is not the end." She told me not to say goodbye. "See ya later," she said. "Say see ya later." And then she told me to write everyday. To write it all down and tell a good story.

That request I honored. I went home and I wrote. The little girl in my book did have a story to tell. For 8 months I wrote. In the end, I called it Just Sippy. A story about eleven-year-old, Sippy, and her beautiful, quirky, hippie cousin from Alabama named Jilly. While the storyline is fictional, and the character of Jilly is somewhat exaggerated, there is a 30 year bond there that is real; the love; the faith and the friendship is all very real. And Jilly's quirky, silly, happy, love for family and life is very real.
The love of her life; her family, is what kept "Jilly" going. It is what gave her the twinkle in her eye, the bounce in her voice and the joy in her heart. That is very real. And that part of "Jilly" is very real to me...to the little girl in me...an 11-year-old Iowa girl with a silly Great Aunt from Alabama.
My "Jilly". My Great Aunt and my friend of 30 years. That was real.

I received word from family this week that my "Jilly" was very ill and no longer responding.
On Wednesday, I called and asked the nurse to put the phone to her ear. I told her I did what she said and that I wrote it all down. I told her I loved her. I ended with "see ya later."

She quietly passed early yesterday morning. It's hard not to be sad!
See ya later, my "Jilly." Say hi to "Bubba"!

Until next time,
Kimberly
P.S. To my dearest, lifelong friend- I'm sorry I never came back for the journals. I will always love you!


            

It's a Trend!

I am seeing a trend.
No, not on Twitter. Come on, people...it isn't always about Twitter. (Right? Please tell me that's right, cause I put some stupid stuff on Twitter.)
Okay, anyway, don't side track me. Have you not realized by now, that my attention span is NOT a virtue! Seriously, I'm like those dogs in that one movie...."SQUIRREL!" What movie was that? OH---See? Stop that.
(UP, The Movie)
Okay, so, I am seeing a trend.
First, I saw a blog about dating over 40....oh crap, now I gotta go find it so I can link you to it. Apparently, it really is a thing. And then, I saw an article about getting a job over 40. (Crap, I need that link, too) This could take some time! (Dating Over 40 and The Other One)
Okay, so I got to thinking...is there something wrong with being over 40? Is it a stigma? Is it contagious? Cause, I think people think it is. Then I got to thinking about all the other "groups" that have a stigma...you know, like a blemish on your character...or a big oozing pock mark on your personality. Depends on the level of self esteem you have left as to how you view these groups....Some can be compliments-others, not.
But, we do group people. As a society we "group" people, like little fraternities, but without the cool parties!

Single mothers * Divorced Women * Divorced Single Mothers * Dead Beat Dads * Stay Home Moms *Stay Home Dads * Self Published Authors * Women Over Forty * Fifty and Fabulous * Big and Tall * Domestic Goddesses *Smokers * Ex-Smokers *99-ers *Non-Traditional Students *Job Seekers *Applicants *Working Mothers * Women Writers * Career Women * Baby Boomers * Players * Gamers * Bloggers * Indie Authors * Teen Mothers/Fathers

Obviously not a complete list, but, some of the most popular. So, what does this all mean and what is my point? Well, obviously, I don't have a point and it means nothing....kinda like that game show, where nobody wins and the points don't matter. (Who's Line Is It Anyway)
But, on that same note, there is something I want. Something that we should do. If we are gonna group people that is...


THROW FREAKIN' PARTIES!
I mean, seriously! Why not? What better way to prove we are not judging anybody by grouping them? That's right. I said throw parties!
It's easy....from now on, when we group somebody by saying "she's a single mom" or "they are smokers" or "hey, all women over 40"...I'm thinking that conversation should end with "You are cordially invited to...."
How much fun would that be? It'd be freakin' awesome. In fact, I think this idea should be retroactive. By that I mean, we owe people a lot of parties.
Heck, just based on the above list.....

I am a Single Divorced Mother Over 40 who spent years as a Stay Home, Domestic Goddess, before becoming a Non-Traditional Student to be a Working Mother in a world full of Job seekers and Applicants until finally going for the dream of a Woman Indie Writer. Add to that I have become a 99-er, a Blogger, a Chronic Smoker and mother of a Teen-Father who is a Stay Home Dad. And now, I am well on my way, to being Fifty and Fabulous! (that's enough parties to get me to retirement!!)

So, what about that trend of being over 40? Dating over 40? Getting a job over 40?
Doesn't matter really....
I heard #FiftyIsTheNew29 is going to trend on Twitter!
And it really is all about Twitter! Right?

Until next time,
Kimberly

Would the Real Me Please Stand Up?

So, I've talked about my kids, and my parents. I've rambled on about my book and writing. And I have even talked a little bit about jobs and the fact I need one.
But, I haven't really talked about me....The real me!
Not the "me" who thinks about cutting her hair every other day, or wishes she could lose 10 pounds. Not the "me" who talks about how much she loves Dr. Pepper but tries not to drink it. Not the "me" who believes George Clooney will someday give up on her and marry a super model, already! Not even the "me" who proposes to John Cusack on Twitter when she has nothing else to say....No, believe it or not, the real me actually knows John Cusack would never marry a girl who proposes on Twitter and that poor George is stuck-delusional even, in thinking this would all be given for him. (Please George, I beg of you! MOVE ON!)
No, I'm talking about the real me. The one who deals with life everyday. The one who deals with the struggle and the stress. The one who budgets, cleans, taxi's, and cooks. The one doing the laundry, the dishes, the vacuuming, and the dusting. The one who counsels kids, gives advice and loans $5 for gas. The one who listens to her friend complain about her husband, daughter complain about her lovelife, and son complain that he's bored. The one who worries about her parents, frets about money, and occasionally contemplates really stalking John Cusack.
But, most importantly, I'm talking about the real me!
The absolute real me is the one who wakes up every morning and wonders if all this has been a dream and if there really is a gorgeous hunk of a man in her kitchen making Hazelnut coffee.
The real "me" wonders if men realize asking a girl "wanna ride my Harley sometime" is not the same as asking her on a date. She's the one who thinks that just once a guy could say "You are really pretty" instead of saying "Baby, you're so hot". The one who thinks a kiss goodnight is romantic and it doesn't make you less of a man if you try for just one.
The real "me" who wonders if she will ever find that one she is supposed to be with forever. (Sit down, George! It is NOT you! See? He's obsessed!)
Here's some thoughts from the real me...
The real me doesn't want to get married. I have been down that road a time or two (or three). It's safe to say, I don't like husbands.
I don't want to take care of someone. I have enough trouble taking care of myself.
I don't need someone to take care of me. That is just damn scary and men are too fickle...they change their mind and, poof, I'm livin' in a box! No thanks!
I am not looking for a souvenir to drag to family parties that my brothers can wrestle with. I am, however, interested in drinking a beer or two with my father and if someone were there to open the bottle, that would be great!
Not looking for someone to mow the grass, drive the boat, or man the grill. But, if he happens to HAVE a lawn mower, OWN a boat and can bring his own grill, that, too, would be great.
Not looking for a guy to clean my gutters, repair leaking faucets, or figure out what that noise in the furnace is...I have a landlord for that, but if he wants to kill a spider, change a lightbulb on the porch, or pump my gas, that would be super!
Also, not looking for someone to cook for everyday, pick up after, or feed their ego.
Not looking to cater to, explain to, or justify the actions of me or my kids. We are who we are. Not perfect. Not exciting. Not rich. Not famous. Not at all.
Doesn't have to be an Einstein or anything. Doesn't need to have his face in a book at all times. But it is helpful that he knows what a book is and may actually be kinda cool if he has read one, in say, the last 20 years or so.
Don't want him to cry in a Kodak commercial or anything but a little sentiment goes a long way. Like if the Mayhem guy does anything at all for him, I am good with that.
I don't want him to live in his mother's basement or anything, but he needs to at least know her first and last name and occasionally speak to her. And "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number doesn't count." And while we are at it, "Hey You, there is something I need to discuss about that time in the 4th grade..." is pretty much a deal breaker, too.
Don't want someone I can beat up but don't want President of the WWE either.
Don't want a guy who calls his time in witness protection, his stint in prison, or his unemployment "a vacation".
Don't want a guy who lives in a bar, at his job, in his car, above someone's garage, in my garage, on my couch, or in a storage facility he has converted into an efficiency apartment. He doesn't have to own his own home, but he can't make me hide under a blanket and pretend he's not there if his landlord knocks on the door.
If we are in a relationship and he refers to our intimate moments as "hittin' it", "bangin'" or any other colorful, slang use of vulgarity- he can bet I will tell his friends I broke up with him because he couldn't "bang it" effectively!
(Which, in my experience of the men who use those phrases, well, I would not be lying.)
Tattoos in moderation are fine, but not as a substitute for clothes and self portraits, Nazi symbols and anything they can make dance is not attractive. 
Well, by now, you are asking "where is she getting all of this?" Believe or not, from experience.
Yes, I have met most of these men and even married a couple of them. It has not been pretty. Now, of course not all of this is without imagination or exaggeration. I mean, even I realize by now, that George is not giving up.

But, you may also be asking what does the real me want?
That is a loaded question. I will try to answer.

I want the old fashioned thing. The guy who talks and listens. The guy who loves me from the inside out. The guy who thinks about me all day. The guy who tells his friends about me. The guy who remembers those silly things I like.
Doesn't exist?
Oh, it does. Granted - He married my mom! But, any whoooo, a girl can dream!
And what am I willing to give?
All of who I am. A single mother of five who thinks about cutting her hair and losing 10 pounds while smoking, writing, reading, eating, singing, dreaming, wishing, hoping and praying. A woman who proposes to John Cusack regularly and would leave you in a heartbeat if he ever took her up on it. A Grammy who thinks her grandkids are way cuter than her first generation kids, and would hate you til your death if you ever even thought about hurting any of them. A girl at heart who thinks her dad is the best man on the planet. A karaoke, bar-hating junkie, a book loving, non-library card holding geek, an unemployed workaholic, a published, unknown author, a starving writer, a poet, a flutist, a painter, a photographer, and her kids' friend.
A sister, an aunt, a daughter, a granddaughter, a niece, a cousin, an ex-wife, an ex-girlfriend, a former co-worker, a former boss, a former employee, and a former student.
A blogger, a Twit(terer), a Stumbler, a Scrabble lover, a coffee addict, a best friend, and a trivia buff. A lover of Elton John, Eva Cassidy, The Cranberries, and Ellen! Someone who likes black and white movies and oldies music, believes in Santa, wants to be an elf, and lives for Christmas! One who cries in sad movies, at the end of Frosty the Snowman and during fireworks. One with Christmas traditions she won't give up, superstitions she doesn't falter from, and a collection of ugly chairs her kids try to throw away.
A simple woman who is grateful for what she has, unapologetic for what she doesn't, proud of who her kids have become and excited for who they have yet to be, confident in the choices she has made and ready for  those to come.
So, until then I just wake up every day and wonder....WHAT IF there was a gorgeous guy in my kitchen making Hazelnut coffee? Oh hell, I would have to get up!
Just bring me the coffee!

Until next time,
Kimberly