How I Met Hubby

I was working as the senior editor of a lifestyle magazine in Florida when I met my husband by accident.

The publisher of this magazine was a huge (7 ft tall, 300 pound) intimidating lawyer who blustered into my office one day and said "All the other city magazines have personal ads in back, so we need to get some, too." I tried to explain that we were less than a week from sending the magazine to be printed and perfect bound, and we had no time to solicit personal ads. "That's okay," he said "We can just make them up, since they are anonymous and have a box number as an identifier." So I ran around the office asking everyone to create a fake personal ad and get it to me by the end of the day. I created one myself that read "Fluffy, fit an fun woman seeking a friend to prowl the frozen yogurt shops with me. You have to have a sense of humor, be intelligent, kind and have nice hair or all your own teeth, or both." I had just lost 100 pounds through working out with a group of larger women at an exercise salon specifically for big gals called "Women at Large." We all abhored being called fat, so we called ourselves 'fluffy' instead. Though I was, by that time, a 'normal' weight, I still felt a keen connection to my fluffy sisters battling the bulge.

The issue with the fake personals was our annual swimsuit issue, with an adorable cover model named Rowanna Brewer standing on a lifeguard station with sand on her butt in a yellow bikini.

After the issue came out, I got a reply to my personal ad from a guy named Jim, who wrote that he was a fun guy with a sense of humor who loved frozen yogurt and would like to date me. Unfortunately, he also wrote a letter to the editor, not realizing that the person in the fake personal ad and the editor were one and the same. His letter to the editor asked if he could meet that gorgeous cover model, because he was just blown away by how sexy she was, etc...

I realized that if he wanted a girl like Rowana, he would never be interested in a girl like me, who even slender was still a size 10-12. So I wrote him a rather rude letter, saying in part that he was "Yuppy scum who obviously wasn't at all interested in real women, etc..."
 And we ran another few pages of photos of Rowana Brewer in the next edition of the magazine, and reprinted his letter as representative of the overwelming response of local guys to our swimsuit issue.

Oddly enough, Jim wrote back to the anonymous and angry personal ad lady, and said that he was not yuppy scum because he drives a Toyota pick up, and that if I were to go out on one date with him, I would be surprised at how much fun we'd have together. I was so charmed by his letter, I wrote back to him, and he wrote back to me, and this went on for three weeks, and I had yet to actually lay eyes on the man, because he kept slipping into the office and leaving presents for me and slipping back out before I could get a look at him.

Eventually I came clean about who I was, and he wrote me his phone number, explaining that he worked nights at the local  radio station, so I should call him during the day to set a time for a date. I thought I'd call him one afternoon while I assumed he was gone and leave a tantalizing message on his answering machine, only to discover that he was at home! We had a wonderful conversation, and when Jim asked what I liked and disliked most about Florida, I told him that the strip clubs on every corner made me crazy because they were all for men, while women weren't allowed to have a club full of hot guys strip for them under the obscenity laws of the state. Jim said "Well,  I'll strip for you." I dared him to do so, thinking there was no way he'd rise to the challenge, only to hear, 20 minutes later, a knock on my door, and stripper music ensue, along with a shirt, a wallet, pants and other things come flying by me! I was left with a man in glow in the dark boxer shorts who seduced me in about 3 minutes flat and left me breathless.

Because he's a Scorpio, Jim has always had a deep understanding of sexuality, and he taught me a lot about my body and about making a man happy. But he treated me like a human being and a friend first, and then like a woman, which endeared him to me, as well as his first questions to me, such as,  "What do you want? What makes you happy? How do you like to be touched? What makes you feel good?" He was the first and only man I dated who seemed to care about the answers to those questions.

I think it is important for women to have at least one good, kind, tender and adept lover in her lifetime.

New Article

Greetings Gals!

I'm new to these parts, but I thought I'd drop in and write about what I am all about, that is relationships with people.

I'm a very personable, user-friendly person, and rolling in during my late 40s, I've been around the block a few times, danced the dance, gotten the t-shirt and all that, so I have accumulated a tiny bit of savvy and some wisdom to share.

I'm also a minor astrology buff, so I tend to use the sun signs as archetypes for dealing with people. So, as a fiery Sagittarius, the jolly Jupiter-ruled sign of the zodiac, I bid you welcome. Pull up a comfy cyber chair, grab a cup of hot tea and a home made muffin and lets chat. Want to talk about men, or relationships with the significant other?  I am all ears!

My mother was what was quaintly referred to as a 'women's libber' back in the 60s and 70s, though she had three children and a roaring Leo husband to try and tame. She was always telling me that men were after only two things, sex and someone to do the cooking and cleaning for them, and that they weren't to be trusted. I found her views rather stunted and cynical at the time, as I wanted to believe that there was more to a man's mind than whatever he had going on in his boxer shorts. I didn't want to believe that they were so selfish, so self absorbed that they were only interested in gratifying basic urges. So I set out to date and try to find my perfect man. And I encountered lots of very strange, very messed up fellows who really were only concerned with what I could do to make them happy with either sex or food or both.

One of the few enlightened souls I met was a bookstore owner whom I practically threw myself at, in hopes of getting a date, only to discover he was married for the third time to a middle aged woman who wouldn't have sex with him, and he therefore felt comfortable having sex with any other women he fancied, including the wives of his friends. I wanted no part of that, and explained to this guy that he would eventually have to divorce his current wife if he wasn't happy. He didn't want to divorce her because he was afraid of losing his store, or at least that was the story he gave me. Eventually, he did divorce after I'd left town, and married one of his employees. I met my husband under unusual circumstances while working on a magazine in the Tampa Bay area. I will tell you that story next time. Until then, hang in there, and hope for the best.