Intercontinental Suburbanites

Summer holiday!

2004-08-03T20:22:00.000-07:00

Although you don't want to hear I'll tell you that I'm going on vacation. Marbella, Spain, is waiting. Nearly four weeks of leisure time, fancy drinks, kinky parties, delicious food, superb wine, topless bathing girls, adventurous, horny, breast-augmented, well-funded, fresh-divorcees in their mid-thirties, ask me - it's there and available.

Now an update for the more frequent readers:
It's over with Iris. No more games, no firm B/C-cup sized, finger-thick nipple topped, hand- and eye-candy, no ever-wet, always hungry pussy, no disputes, no peekaboo, no emotional time bomb anymore. Marsha has split up with her husband, you all know that she is my favorite girl not only for going on a ride.

I wish you all a happy summer time, love you all

A quickie No, porn addicts, not that kinda quickie!!

2004-07-15T20:17:00.000-07:00

Remove your minds from the gutter immediately! This is just a quick update to let ya'll (if I were Southern that MIGHT be cute) know how things are going.

This side of the blog has been busying calculating her life...no pun intended. The prospective move cross-country has propelled me into a very self-evaluative state...which is quite dangerous for a therapist. I'm short on time so I'll avoid details for now, but let's just say that the
changes have been good.

Long story short, I'm not moving out of state. I have however, sold the dungeon of ex-laden memories that was my townhouse, both in an attempt to evade impending financial crisis and make a fresh start on my life. The Calculator and I are getting a place together, as he has decided to stay. I am thrilled with his decision and look forward to christening our new place.

Speaking of sex, I do hope that this "quickie" has not left you unsatisfied. In sexual realms, a quickie can be quite satisifying, leaving you primed for the longer, more calculated marathon sessions, while hopefully quenching your desires in a time efficient manner. I hope that this post has a similar effect, but more later... Until then, all my love, Jen

Decisions

2004-07-09T20:19:00.000-07:00

My dearest Jen, I really don't envy you for that huge set of decision making waiting for you. A new start in a new state sounds good, how's about your job opportunities and your career?

Last weekend I decided either to sell my gelding or to give up riding in a show jumping contest. Although our riding team became second in the show jumping series finals, I think, next year someone else should take over my part in the team.

Emotional roller coaster...or tilt-a-whirl?

2004-07-05T20:21:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone!! Sorry for the lack of blogging, but life has gotten quite complicated. Fortunately, it has not been complicated in the typical way (ie. running into 3 past hook ups at the same party, see earlier posts), but in a very real, emotional type of way.

Last week, major shit hit the fan with the Calculator. He has a lot of things going on at once, and went through a reclusive thirty six hour period during which he was definitely not himself. I tried to be supportive, which was odd for me, as my first inclination was to call it quits. However, some grace of God (or newfound emotional maturity) allowed me to keep my cool and ride it out. In the long run, I was glad that I did.

We spent the weekend together and did a lot of talking. The absolutely terrifying future plans for the relationship kind of talking. Long story short, he's moving out of state...as in cross-country. A lot of this has to do with a business opportunity, as well as the fact that his kids happen to live in the same state as the business opportunity. Well, the business opportunity doesn't actually LIVE there, but...well, you get the picture. All in all, moving cross-country is looking like a very appealing option for him right now.

Strangely, the option is also looking very appealing for me. Now you all know that I am not the type of girl to drop everything to chase some guy cross-country, but I love the idea of a fresh start. The past year has been very difficult for me due to the separation, particularly in the recent months during which the ex has had no contact with the kids and decided that the child support money would be better spent on his new girlfriend.

Advice anyone?? This seems like a crazy, out of the ordinary kind of move for me, but some part of me says that I should take a risk this time. I'll update the situation soon. All my love, Jen

A Bouquet of Flowers for Trixie

2004-05-26T19:44:00.000-07:00

Dear Trixie, this bouquet is just for you. Love, Frank

Feeling Lonely

2004-05-24T19:51:00.000-07:00

Since Thursday Iris has cut communications to me. I feel lonely. She even isn't responding her business phone nor her mobile. What a weekend.

Thursday, a day off in Germany, there was a horse show in a small town near by. I had the chance to ride with our show jumping team. My gelding did well, but two of our team members had 4 penalty points each.

Friday I witnessed an accident with a carriage drawn by four horses, which occurred after the wedding ceremony on the way to where the banquet should take place. Two of my fellow riders accompanied me for I was riding with our club standard. The carriage with the just married couple followed. Behind the carriage were about 20 riders with their horses, all dressed up in black and white. It was a beautiful picture. But suddenly one or two horses shied, began to gallop and began to take over the riding field. Now all horses accelerated suddenly and "infected" the four horses towing the carriage. I roweled my horse and forced it in a sharp turn to the left. At this moment the carriage and all the other horses passed in top-full-speed-mode galloping. The carriage collided with a tree planted on a street refuge, the carriage turned over, the ropes bent... It was a sheer horror.

Saturday and Sunday we had been riding several challenges in a big Town near by, we were quite successful.

So that's rural life in Germany. Love you all, Frank

Emotional Residues

2004-05-17T19:52:00.000-07:00

Beside all the happy things I may experience, there are latent emotional residues I can't defeat. There are still two girls in my life, who arrest my whole attention and I am unable to make a decision - or am I not willing to? It's the classic triangle, family and kids versus my personal quest of happiness versus staying in status quo (with tight timetables and pangs of remorse).
I think, I'll do it like our former chancellor, Helmut Kohl. He used to sit out severe problems. Maybe this tactic will work for me too? I'll concentrate on riding, several challenging competitions are waiting, even the job is quite time consuming. We'll see and I'll let you know. Love, Frank

Okay, it's my turn

2004-05-03T20:11:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry for the lack of blogging, but real life was very, very time consuming. This weekend was indeed the most eventful of the whole year. What happened:

Got a billiard (6ft long) which needed to be assembled correctly.

Had a family celebration, my son had his confirmation, a milestone for a protestant teenager, not in religious sense, but in worth of gifts received, as I had to notice.

Had one of my horses in a state-wide show-jumping contest, ridden by a young professional rider. Both did quite well, but they had to face fierce competition.

Iris got a new hair style and came to see me. We had a lengthy talk and so on. She is the best smelling girl I know. The "and so on" was fantastic.

Bought a bay foal with 4 white legs and a nice blaze. Normally this little mare should have been sold at the annual Westfalian Elite-Auction. But -what a pity- the breeder missed a deadline, they couldn't take it into the auction lot. So I benefitted from it and bought it for a price only I can call fair.

Dear Jen, Calculators are somehow reliable people. By the way, did I mention that I have a master's degree in economics...?

The Calculator

2004-04-25T20:23:00.000-07:00

Well, well, well! Methinks you all deserve a quick update on the status with "the Calculator," as he has been taking up a great deal of my time and inhibiting my ability to post regularly. True to my philosophy, the first night hook up left him intrigued, leading him to break the three day rule on the initial phone call, which I so obnoxiously pointed out to him. We got together later that evening, and have actually spend almost every night together since. Can you say "moving quickly?"

The Calculator is an interesting fellow. He's extremely sweet and attentive, and has made it pretty clear that he has not been seeing anyone else since we met. This is both flattering and terrifying for me. Okay, so I'm not a complete commitmentaphobe, but my tendency to overanalyze leads me to wonder if a committed relationship with this guy is a good decision right now. In a sense, it is good for me: he treats me well, keeps me grounded, and makes me happy. But a huge part of me questions things: is he really what I want? will this high of the new relationship last? what is the long term possiblity?

Fortunately, the Calculator has been very understanding. He has expressed that he would like a commitment, but also says that he is okay leaving things as they are. I spent last night at his house, and #1 (from previous posts) called me twice. I answered the calls, simply because #1 and I are on a friendly basis now, which prompted a number of "booty call" jokes from the Calculator. I assured him that that was not what was going on and made it a point to take the calls in front of him, so he knew there was nothing to hide. He still seemed a bit unsettled by it, so I decided to "distract" him a little bit.

What ensued was described (by him, not me) as the best blowjob that he has ever received in his life. After being in a committed relationship for almost eight years, I was blissfully unaware of my talents in this department. Don't get me wrong, the ex was appreciative enough, but I tended to think that it was his job to be. However, I was quite flattered. Any how, must go now...the Calculator has called. More later...all my love

Oversexed and underpaid

2004-04-20T20:25:00.000-07:00

I suspect that this title may pull in a couple of porn surfers, but a girl can only dream, right?! In all honesty though, the title is quite fitting, although I do hate to brag of my exploits in the wake of Frank's botched booty call. However, this has been my best run in awhile, so I need to bask in the glory as long as I can.

First of all, sex with the ex continued on a regular basis until last Wednesday. Although we spent a pleasant evening together, I realized by the end of the night that I needed to stop entertaining the possibility of working things out with him. He's at a really ugly point in his life right now, very selfish and unstable, prompting him to refuse to take our kids for weekend overnights again, disappointing them terribly and throwing me into a fit of over protective rage. However, I was still blissfully unaware of his decision at this last hook up, so last Wednesday I proceeded to initiate what can only be described a porn star quality sex. For you terribly unelightened people who refuse to partake in porn, porn star quality sex typically involves a great deal of high pitched screaming, four letter words, ass slapping, and public masturbation. It does not include gentle kisses, sweet caresses, or the words "I love you."

Additionally, I continued my hook up with the aforementioned #3 at a later date. I met him with some mutual friends at a restaurant for drinks, and later headed back to his new place. As always, #2 was present, although not for the actual hook up...which, come to think of it, may have made things a lot more interesting. Oddly, #3 and I did not actually have sex, but instead engaged in one of those "everything but" kinda nights. Odd, as the decision to avoid progressing to "the deed" was not discussed amongst ourselves. Nonetheless, it was fun, although the novelty is wearing off for me, but we'll keep #3 open for business awhile longer.

The most recent escapade was with a totally new guy that I (somewhat embarassingly, but only by societal standards) met and slept with on the first night. Many females will tell you avoid doing this, as it will leave the man uninterested in a future relationship. For these women, I have two brief points of advice: #1, if a man is going to be interested in a future relationship, he is going to be interested regardless or in spite of any physical activity that occurs upon your meeting. #2, if sex upon this first meeting leaves the man uninterested in pursuing you, you are most definitely doing something wrong in bed.

The new guy, whom I shall dub "The Calculator," is quite interesting. Very straightforward, yet each move is carefully calculated with player-like precision. He showers you with complements, often very bluntly, only to follow it up with a teasing remark that he needs to tone it down or my ego will be too inflated to ever talk to him again. However, he still plays it cool in a sense, and will likely follow the three day rule for the first phone call, despite the fact that he's already asked me out for later in the week. I initially shot down the idea of seeing him during the week, but later insinuated that I would consider it. We'll see if the Calculator's fragile player ego can handle a little bit of game. If so, he may hold my interest.

On a side note, a few pseudo-hook ups...an ex that we'll call "the Violator" (figure that one out kiddies) booty called me quite recently. Considered hooking up, but my general rule dic(k)tates that I will not pursue a purely physical relationship with someone that I respect as a person. Unfortunately, he falls into this category, which is particularly heartbreaking as he is incredibly attractive and our sexual chemistry is of the sort that is practically visible when we happen to embody the same airspace.

The final pseudo-hook up (not with the Violator) involved an aftermath of excessive text messages and "let's talk about this" kind of drama, so I dare not mention specifics for fear of the drama resurfacing. However, the brief mention is necessary for those of you who are keeping count.

And so goes the oversexed portion of my title. The underpaid portion really has no relevance, particularly in the wake of all the booty I've been racking up, but simply refers to the fact that I work too hard for my money, outside of the bedroom, of course. Sorry to diasappoint. Love always

Conversations

2004-04-20T20:24:00.000-07:00

Last Friday, a wonderful warm and sunny spring day, I arranged with Marsha for a long afternoon ride. I thought it was time to talk. I took off at work at 2 pm and at 3 o'clock we met at the stable. Marsha looked as beautiful as always, she was tanned, a result of the two weeks Austrian Alps vacation. She took my horse, I saddled my daughter's.

When we returned it was 7. We really had an adventurous cross country ride, he had to jump over fences, climb banks and cross several creeks. We talked about our partners, family, friends and so on. She's also still in a partnership but is also unable to quit nor does she know how to proceed. So we decided to proceed with our relationship and that weekends belong to family or partner. Sharing the same hobby (and so on) isn't cheating or is it? Don't we all look for a little portion of feelgood-happiness? For our episode of Fantasy Island?

Yesterday I was called by Iris. Why didn't I send an e-mail nor phoned her or send a text-message, she asked. I was surprised. We talked on the phone for about an hour. I told her about my job, the horses, what's happening at the riding club, what my kids do and so on. At the end I asked her why she sent that ominous message, I didn't understand. She said she had been in depressive mode and hoped to provoke a reaction. Oh shit, life and especially girls ARE complicated, aren't they?

My fifteen year old daughter was offered the opportunity to spend 4 weeks on a New Mexico horse farm with her friend (seventeen) as a some kind of a working student. Both girls are experienced riders and their job would be to take care for several horses which includes grooming, riding and exercising them. I had a look at the website and found it okay, but I was disturbed by the frequently used terms "protected" and "safe". Is there something wrong in New Mexico?

Freudian slip (and I don't mean Austrian panties)

2004-04-13T20:26:00.000-07:00

Personally spoken I envy Jen for her opportunities of choice.
Marsha took another week off at Austria so I had to activate another girl. But I noticed, that she was huffy and refuses to come over to me nor let me visit her but she texted via SMS "Fucking the fat girl is over!". What has happened?
First I was totally clueless. Iris, you have to know, has a relationship disorder. She's unable to maintain a classic partner-/friendship. If you want her something to do, or worse, if you order her something to do she refuses totally and closes up. Although she's 28 years old, and a high profile executive in her professional life she's somehow immature in her sexual being. Encounters are always wrapped into games, we're role-playing as if we were 14 years old. Touching must be "accidental", she loves to play the little girl. She hates to be approached directly, she dislikes to be told, how beautiful she is, how I love to be with her, how I enjoy sex with her and so on. Although she gained a few pounds over the last 4 years she's got a flat stomach and a all-over, always slightly tanned, firm body. Having sex with her is always deeply satisfying despite the fact of her sometimes nerving games. You may call her well-proportionate but you can't call her slim. Last week I was at a party and waited for Iris to appear. In the meantime I chatted with a friend of her, who suddenly pointed at a girl, who had the back turned to us, 'look, Iris has arrived', but I answered 'same length, but 20 pounds less - no, it isn't her'. We didn't meet Iris on that party, at the end I went home alone.

Now after a weekend of thinking, left sexless, I'm sure communications between Iris an her friend lend to this situation. I'm accustomed to flattery, yes, I love girls and I love to say nice things, I'm even able to stretch the truth easily but last time my inner Schweinehund prevailed and produced this little Freudian slip...and a good sex-laden (speak: fucking-only) relationship is over. Life can be complicated. Or easy. Remorseful, Frank

My weakness for drink!

2004-04-09T20:27:00.000-07:00

As I predicted, my weakness for a stiff drink and some good old fashioned fun got the best of me last weekend. I did attend the party, and, upon entering the front door, came to the stark realization that not one, not two, but three gentlemen that I had slept with in the recent months (post separation with the ex, of course) were in attendance. The odds were startling, as I have only slept with five people since the separation. I'm due to head out to Vegas in May, but so let's hope this kind of luck is still with me then (insert sarcasm).

But always one to take things in stride, I figured I could handle this. Some light-hearted friendly conversation, a few drinks, and I was ready to go...although not in the way I would have expected. A mind game ensued, who shall it be tonight? Hook up #1, the party host, is a sweet younger guy with a great sense of humor, and need I mention that he is the most well-endowed, shall we say, of the three. However, I tend to have more fun with him just hanging out than I do in bed with him. Not because of his lack of sexual prowess, mind you, but because the chemistry with him can be fleeting. Thus, I encouraged him to pursue more appealing options (i.e. the "jailbait" aged crowd of girls who had mysteriously shown up). I am proud to say that his mission was indeed successful.

#2 is what we call a flatterer...prone to give the vocal prompts that all women love to hear, such as "You're SO good at that" and "No one's ever made me cum like that before." Wonderful in his own right, and entirely ego-boosting. #3, who happens to be a very close friend of #2, is likewise flattering, but in a borderline cocky (the "nice" term would be "self-assured") kind of way. Stylistically, #3 tends to progress from laid back nonchalance to direct propositioning throughout the course of an evening. Underneath this junior high-esque facade, however, he tends to have the most depth, which is probably why I have the most pure physical chemistry with him, despite the fact that he is the least well endowed of the three.

#2, #3, and I leave the party early to head back to #3's place...which seems to irritate #1 (possibly because #1 and #3 are brothers...or did I forget to mention that fact), but I'll smooth things over with him later. As we sit back to relax with a movie (the title of which is not within my long term memory for obvious reasons), #3 pulls a trademark junior high move (is a theme developing with #3??) and asks #2 to turn off the lights, forcing #2 to abandon his post next to me and allow #3 to move in for the kill. Poor, naive #2 never saw it coming.

Well, give or take a few minutes and #3 definitely saw it cuming. Not my best performance by any standards (due to the alcohol, I suppose), but entirely enjoyable nonetheless. My major moment of regret occurred when I exited the bedroom to have a cigarette, and found #2 on the couch, wide awake, wondering aloud why I never "hold" him anymore. #2 has issues, and being the responsible therapist that I am, I found myself compelled to hold him and let him vent for a minute before returning to the bedroom.

And so it goes, my friends, in the every other weekend drama that is the life of a divorcee. Momentary fun, a distraction that serves a purpose...although all this leaves me longing for the slow build up of Frank's phone sex debacle, as it's somehow more appealing. Maybe I just need to find someone new to sleep with, rather than recycling. On that note, must get some sleep before work tomorrow. As always, all my love, Jen

Safer sex

2004-04-06T20:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening Marsha wrote a text-message. She told me, she had been kidding when she left. I really was relieved and phoned her instantly. We talked and talked and talked. Our chat slowly drifted into some kind of soft-porn phone sex. Like one of these Rosamunde Pilcher films playing in England in which a couple goes for a ride, dismounts their horses to have a picnic and a good fuck as dessert. I was in full horny mode. The good thing is we really can make this fantasy put into reality. The bad thing is, in Germany you have to wait until May at least - the weather is too bad to have outdoor encounters sooner.

When I decided to write this blog I got a film snippet from a militant non-smoker activist from my riding club. She's very happy with my proposal not to smoke anymore during our monthly meetings at the club. I love this small film for its main theme which is somehow "safer sex". Yours, Frank

http://www.fs1807.de/suburbanites/dont-smoke.avi

Desperately broken-hearted

2004-04-05T20:30:00.000-07:00

My lovely fellow rider Marsha went off to her parents in Austria celebrating Easter and having a break. Before she went we had a developing discussion about breast augmentation. You have to know Marsha is a looker, a real beauty. Professional, intelligent, witty, sporty, slim, excellent rider, she cooks like an Italian Mama, you can take her to the opera as well as to a barn party. I think, she's perfect. She really thinks about plastic surgery. So we've got a dissent. Frank

Stubborn but satisifed

2004-04-02T20:30:00.000-08:00

Okay, the first thing that you must take for granted while reading the remainder of this post is that I never (I repeat, never) do anything that I am told to do. As a matter of fact, I will often go out of the way to do the opposite. This is not to say that I cannot take well intentioned advice, because I do sincerely appreciate it. I just tend to ignore it.

That said, I did it. I slept with the ex. Multiple times. In one evening. And the next afternoon. Um, and a couple of days later. Can you see a pattern forming here?? And I must say, it was good. We easily slipped back into our old rhythm (pardon the pun), resulting in a couple of earth shattering orgasms.

Physically, I was left very satisfied. Emotionally, I was left very drained. As is often the result of sex with an ex, the old "should we get back together" conversations ensued. The result of these conversations?? Absolutely nada.

I must admit that I take the commitment to my marriage very seriously. That being said, I would entertain the possibility of working things out. In fact, I would welcome it with open arms, even after a long period of separation and a lot of hurt feelings. I realize that this makes me look rather pathetic and a fraction of the independent woman that I am, but it appeals to my overachiever side that says that I can accomplish anything, even the seemingly impossible.

The end result of all of this is that I'm letting it go. Whatever happens, happens. The ex has a long way to go in terms of developing the maturity to reconstruct our relationship, not to mention that he is having way too much fun playing the bachelor for the time being (while I was with him, at least three other girls texted and/or called him...one of which called his roommate when he wouldn't answer her call). So, although I haven't totally written off the possibility of working on things, something tells me that this isn't the right time.

In the interest of moving on, a past hook up/current friend is having a party tomorrow evening. So, after the kids are safely in bed and the babysitter (my mom) secured, I'm heading over to his place. Lots of fun to be had by all, although I should put the warning out that I plan on taking it easy (read: no random hook ups). However, my sense of adventure and my weak spot for a good stiff drink on the weekend may get the better of me. Updates will follow. Until then...Jen

The fetish (oh, did that get your attention)

2004-03-25T20:33:00.000-08:00

Argh...mucho apologies from the American side of this blog. I have become living, blog-manifested proof of what everyone has known for quite some time: Americans are slackers. We bounce indiscriminately from one whim to the next, with utter disregard for what we leave behind, and are ultimately never satisified. Thus, being the prototypical American, I have neglected my blog.

But no matter...I have returned. Unfortunately, I have very little excitement in my life at this very moment. Embarassingly, despite the pearls of wisdom from Frank, this lack of excitement has caused me to consider sleeping with the ex. I saw him just yesterday (damn visitation) and the sexual chemistry is definitely running rampant at this point. This may be related to the fact that I haven't gotten any in three weeks and four days...but who's counting. Ironically, that last tryst (pre-blog days) was with a guy I had briefly dated after "the ex." Environmentally conscious Jen has obviously developed a tendency to recycle.

The possibility of sex with the ex must include mention of his very particular, yet quite harmless, fetish. The ex had an affinity for white slouch socks. Okay, that in and of itself is not too strange, as many internet searches have proven that the same fetish does exist in other members of the male population. However, the ex's fetish also involved white canvas shoes (think late eighties style Keds), as well as the scent that they left on the socks. Thus, a great deal of Jen's married sex life was spent dangling the aforementioned footwear above the ex's face and teasing him with their scent, while he gazed longingly at the balls of fuzz (another part of the fetish) that had formed from the first washing.

As a result of this, I'm not sure how I feel about the whole fetish thing. While I am all for anything that increases the pleasure of my partner's experience, a fetish (in extreme form) can leave a person feeling rather empty. In my case, I sometimes felt like the alien-like host for the socks, which were clearly the center of the sexual attention. Don't get me wrong, I was certainly not neglected in the whole experience, but I often felt that the socks took center stage, particularly when I would catch the ex rummaging through the laundry to find an old pair for masturbation purposes.

But alas, I once again did not hook up with the ex (for reasons entirely unrelated to the fetish). However, the lack of sex threatens to cloud my ordinarily good judgment, so a random hook up (sans ex) may ensue this weekend. Or maybe not...I'll keep you posted. Until then, all my love Jen

Apropos Masturbation: De-American Beauty-ing one's life

2004-03-25T20:32:00.000-08:00

LESTER (V.O.)
"My name is Lester Burnham. I'm forty two-years old. In less than a year, I'll be dead."

INT. BURNHAM HOUSE - MASTER BATH - MOMENTS LATER

We're in the shower with Lester. A waterproof RADIO plays COUNTRY MUSIC. He stands with his face directly in the hot Spray, eyes shut.

LESTER (V.O.)
"In a way, I'm dead already."

ANGLE from outside the shower: we see Lester's naked body silhouetted through the steamed-up glass door. It becomes apparent he is masturbating.

LESTER (V.O.) (cont'd) (amused)
"Look at me jerking off while I listen to country music. I hated this shit when I was growing up.
(then) Funny thing is, this is the high point of my day. It's all downhill from here."

When I saw American Beauty on television the first time I was hit and shaken deeply by this film. Was it me too on the way to become LESTER? Jerking off showering in the morning, a dead sex life with my wife, a relationship based on duty and marriage contract, both living lifes apart from the other? Was I on the way to have a hazardous ralationship with a teenager? No, I sighted (I prefer girls in their late twenties/early thirties), but this film made my mind up, to keep my eyes open to avoid to LESTERize.

Affectivity disorder

2004-03-22T20:34:00.000-08:00

Different continents - same faults. Dear Jen, I know from own experience that sex with the ex is always very good but leaves a very bitter taste afterwards.

The sex is hot, because you know your partner very good, both don't want a relationship - it's just wild, horny, animalistic sex. What always follows, believe me, I really know, is this very special feeling of cognitive dissonance, the question of "why the hell did we split up?"

It is a given, as long as your brain is in horny mode, rational thoughts won't get processed. After climaxing your normal brain kicks in again and you'll remember the reasons why you split up with the ex... remorse follows (typically for women, men often think about continuing a 'fucking-only relationship' without all this stress of a real relation).

Our community championship is over. It was a very wet weekend. It was raining cats and dogs. My daughter won the team-championship, my fellow rider, I'm very fond of personally, became third in single- and third in team-championship with my gelding. There are no film snippets this time, I took some pictures, but the weather was really bad, I don't know their quality yet. Frank

Strange occurences My life is just one big ball of drama.

2004-03-21T20:35:00.000-08:00

And the odd thing is, the more I try to simply things and maintain control, the stranger my life gets. Case in point...Saturday morning, I picked up my soon-to-be-ex-husband for our appointment at our attorney's office. We had a good forty five minute drive to get there, during which we fought over the choice of music on my radio and other non-pertinent issues. We then grabbed lunch and had a stirring conversation about our post-separation relationships. He and the twenty-one year old have called it quits (NEVER saw that one coming). Bad news for him, good news for my kids, as she really didn't possess the maturity to handle the situation.

Here's where things take the Twilight Zone turn...we decide to stop for a drink...at a strip club. Now before you get images of beautiful surgically enhanced women gyrating in my lap, let's set the record straight. There is one woman walking around topless, serving drinks at the bar, who I considered paying to put her clothes back on. There is also a dog (literally) circulating the club. I refuse to tuck-a-buck to the nasty chick...the dog, however, receives a well-earned dollar bill in his collar. The patrons find this amusing. They inform me that the action picks up around 4pm. We didn't stick around to find out.

The ex then requests that we visit the adult movie store that is conveniently locally next to the club. He insists that he would feel much more comfortable buying porn with me accompanying him. So let me get this straight, you were not "comfortable enough" to attend counseling and work on our marriage, yet you can buy porn with me?? I respectfully decline. A somewhat purposeful discussion ensues on the ride home regarding when he plans on calling a cease-fire and wishing me dead. The ex claims that he does not hate me anymore, and a rather nostalgic discussion of our relationship follows.

So we finally get back to his place...which is not really "his," as it belongs to a friend of ours. Those of you who are waiting for some scandalous, sexual tryst, read no further. We do not hook up. There is some sexual tension in the room, until his roommate bursts in to thrill us with stories of his most recent night out (I'll spare you the gory details). I must admit, I am somewhat displeased at the interruption (could that be my sexual frustration?), as it felt like our conversation was really getting somewhere. Some small part of me is entertaining the possibility that things really could work out between us. However, I have other obligations, so I go on my merry way. In the distance, my ex and his roommate are discussing the party that will be taking place at their house later tonight (cue shouts of "toga, toga"...literally!) What was that I was saying about things possibly working out??????? I go pick up the munchkins and their cousin for a sleepover at my place.

The ex and I are a funny pair. We get along and laugh like crazy, have killer sexual chemistry, and make a hell of a good looking couple...not to mention, we make gorgeous children together. We connect on virtually all levels, with the possible exception of the intellectual one. Maturity level is also a factor (refer to "toga, toga" commentary), although I am beginning to feel that this is a problem for all men in the 18-40 range. Maybe I need to start checking out the senior citizens home...

In all seriousness, I'm learning to take things day by day. The ex and I were together since I was 16, so I think that I need this time to discover who I am without him, as so much of me was previously emeshed with him. I thought that finding myself would be sort of simple, like choosing the right outfit for a night out (classy and sophisticated or overly trendy and sexy?), but it's far from it. My difficulty has been striking a balance...I enjoy being a professional, I enjoy being a mom, I enjoy being the life of the party, I enjoy being a sex symbol (okay, the last one's a stretch). But how do they really all add up???

I think that the answer may be in becoming less of a perfectionist. I do not need to be the best professional, mom, sex symbol, etc...I just need to find a way to enjoy myself, yet be proud of what I'm doing and know I do it well. My desires often conflict, so this is difficult. Any suggestions people?? Ah well, I'll put it all together someday...and until then I'll continue the therapy that is this blog. More exciting stories to come, I promise...the plans for next weekend are already in the works. Until then, my existential crises will continue. All my love, Jen

Is it really Friday night???

2004-03-20T20:35:00.000-08:00

Due to Frank's advice to avoid the bar scene (and the fact that I have my kids this weekend), it's just me and the computer this Friday night. I have to say I agree with his depressing but accurate observations on men, although he is wrong on one aspect. Frank, my "sharp-tongue" usually does not sent them running...it keeps them coming back for more. Intelligence and cynicism is another story.

Either way, today was a pretty average day. Worked my ass off, went out to dinner with family, took the kids ice skating. Okay, the ice skating is totally out of the ordinary for me, as my athleticism is limited to the occassional drunken gyration on the dance floor. We had a pretty good time...a successful evening in general. Hey, any evening that results in the kids sleeping like rocks upstairs is successful. And, embarassingly, I was slightly flattered by the stares and muttered comments that ensued whenever I skated past the high school hockey team.

Oh, and on a really superficial note (forgive me, I'm exhausted today), I cut all of my hair off. My previous pornstar-esque long hair has been reduced to a trendy, choppy mop that just barely skims my shoulders. It's actually quite funky and adorable, but I somehow feel stripped of my sex appeal. I've been complaining that it has been entirely depressing to see all of my "sexiness" swept into a dustpan and dumped in garbage of the salon. I must say that my stylist did a great job of talking it up (i.e. "you look so hot"), but he seems to say that to everyone so it loses meaning.

Eventually, I'll post some pictures and you all can judge for yourselves. My girl Diablo (who, I don't mean to brag, has the best blog that I've ever seen) and I will be getting together soon, and some interesting pictures will likely result. I'm desperately planning a trip out of suburbia to see her as we speak (type?). I'll post the pics here if they're not too obscene...in that case, I'll ask her to throw them on her site:) All my love, Jen

Most men are pussy-grubbing assholes

2004-03-19T20:37:00.000-08:00

I sincerely thank Frank for confirming my intuition...that most men are pussy-grubbing assholes. The majority of my friends have told me that I'm being too cynical, stating "But maybe that guy who bought the last round of shots really does love kids...does it matter that he said it while staring at your breasts?" ABSOLUTELY!! Maybe the problem is that I spend far too much time in bars. Okay, I really don't spend that much time in bars, but it seems to be the only place that dispenses the proper amount of liquid courage to prompt a guy to approach me.

I have been told numerous times that I am too aloof/intimidating to be aproachable. This is a complete joke, as I am usually the overly nice one who will talk to anyone...which has resulted in my shoes getting vomitted on and my ass getting grabbed by the local boozehound. For some reason, confidence and intelligence seem to be often misinterpreted as "intimidation." Just because I refuse to play the ditzy, uneducated barfly (okay, I play her occassionally) does not mean that I am intimidating. I prefer to use the word "genuine."

But alas, there are no changes on the dating front. Work is going well. Yesterday I allowed one of my six year old clients to tear up every school assignment he had completed in the past week and throw it around his room. I actually encouraged it, shouting "Yeah, that feels good now, doesn't it?!" With my teenage boys, this would be unethical, as erections might ensue. Anyways, the foster mother looked at me quite strangely, as in "you're supposed to be the professional?", but played along. Remarkably, the kid calmed down and was able to process what set him off. Two points for Jen! No hospitalizations today! Hey, my methods can be unconventional, but they work!

Speaking of work, I am supposed to be doing some right now. It's about nine o'clock and I'm in the office, despite the fact that I will be back here in less than twelve hours. A dear friend of mine just called and invited me over for a beer, however, which is tempting. All work and no play makes Jen...extremely crabby and sexually frustrated, but left with some sick sense of accomplishment, so I may stay. Plus I need to make enough cash this week to buy Frank that new do-it-yourself blacksmith kit that I saw at the mall today. We cannot have his horses walking around shoeless, my dears!! All my love...Jen

Good News - Acknowledgement

2004-03-19T20:36:00.000-08:00

First of all the good news. Yesterday afternoon the long missing blacksmith showed up totally sober and protected my horses against ever lasting lameness. This weekend, you have to know, we have our annual community horseback riding championship in show jumping and dressage. To get an idea, how this sport is integrated in our community I give you a few figures of our community: 20,000 people, 3 riding clubs with 1,200 members, around 400 sport horses. I don't want to bore you with further details, it just shows in which environment a suburbanite lives. If I'm not too excited, I'll produce a small film snippet for your delight.

Jen, to be honest, most men refrain from further contact, if the dame of heart (recognized optically) seems to be intelligent, well educated, cynical and sharp tongued (recognized acoustically). The adjective "aloof" or "arrogant" is heard frequently in this context. Say thank you and put those jerks off the list.

Most of my female fellow riders (4/5 of all organized riders are female) aged between 18 and 35 are singles. Their main "problem" is dominance, based upon working with horses a long time. Think about changing the turf. What do you think about changing the target group. The average booby starring, pussy grabbing, salivating, drunk illiterate might not seem worth an approach.

In Germany there is a play called "Guidance to Sexual Unhappiness". It is more a performance than a play. The lecturer/actor asks the audience to part. Women were asked to take a seat on the left side of the theater, men on the right. Now he asks the audience several questions, but always just the men or the women. The questions to the single sexed audience, the explanations, he's professor for behavioural research, and the answers which make the play, show stereotypical patterns of western societies.

If he questions the audience, and they agree, they should answer with a hum. The volume should show the grade of agreement.

The following table exposes our sexual related prejudice.

Frank

Back to reality

2004-03-18T20:38:00.001-08:00

After reading Frank's latest post, I feel incredibly guilty. He spent a sentimental weekend with his family, while I ran (read: stumbled) around Colorado in a drunken frenzy. My own children (ages 2 and 6) were with their father last weekend, enjoying the every-other-weekend divorce arrangement. Of course, their time was well spent. They got to spend some much needed quality time with their father and his new 21 year old girlfriend (no bitterness there, only sarcasm).

It baffles me that my ex fails to see the impact that this has on our kids. Is this a male thing, or simply an asshole thing? He has lived with one girl and introduced the kids to two in the short eight months that we have been apart, despite the many objections from the overly concerned, possibly overly protective mother. Call me crazy, but I refuse to introduce my kids to any man that I've dated. I've had one rather short lived committed relationship since the separation, and still did not consider involving the kids.

The crazy thing is, upon my initial entry back into the dating world, I tried to use the kids as a shield. Shield as in, "Get back, drunken male barfly, or I will bore/scare you to death with soccer pictures and nursery rhymes!" Unfortunately, I have noticed a strange phenomenon. Being in my mid-twenties, I assumed the typical guys that approach me (late twenties to early thirties) would run screaming from a woman with kids, or at least make up some lame excuse that would allow them to move on quickly to the next potential date/victim.

Nothing has been further from the truth!!! Instead, men seem fascinated. They ask to see pictures, talk about their wonderful niece/nephew, and sing the praises of single parents. It's highly disturbing. I personally think that it's a pathetic ploy to get into my oh-so-sought-after pants, and refuse to take any of it seriously. As a matter of fact, I often state this to male pursuers. I see them as insincere, which creates the impression that they are using feigned interest in my kids to serve their own physical/romantic ambitions. This is not only unattractive, but anger provoking (boys and girls, let's recall my overly protective parenting tendencies).

Alas, one day I will find a man worthy of the two little angels that are my children. Until then, a drunken hook up every other weekend will suffice to fulfill my physical needs...okay, I actually could use a lot more action than that, but my time is pretty scarce. In terms of emotional needs, I have some great friends and family who are filling the slot temporarily, although I still have to remind them of my need for constant cuddling.

Speaking of, a pile of blankets, toasty fire, and cable TV soft porn are calling my name. I hope that this combination will serve to fulfill the aforementioned needs for tonight. I'll let you know next time...until then, goodnight. Jen

Caution, trap!

2004-03-18T20:38:00.000-08:00

Being a very typical member of your emotional target group, upper middle class, sexual active, educated, well-mannered, private-health-insured, liberal, maybe a little out of age for a twenty-something, but living far away on a different continent in a somehow rural part of good old Germany, I think, I'm able to afford the luxury of the plain, genuine, absolute truth. We now talk about crude facts.

Men who pretend interest mentioning their nephew/nieces just show that they at least had once contact with non-grown-ups during family celebrations or have knowledge of the existence of children within their family. These nephew quoters may be categorized as bootlickers. Try instead of mentioning your kids, the sentence "I'm totally bankrupt" or "I love snakes, I keep them at home", "Sometimes I have a bad drug habit". The reaction will be comparable.

Dear Jen, you knew it already.

Excellent candidates for a new partnership are men who have own kids already. They know what it means to take care for that little, I tend to say, merciless, raptoric brood.

This so called sentimental weekend had consequences. On Sunday two of my horses lost a horseshoe and my blacksmith just suffers a bad setback on his alcoholic excess. Is this problem topable? Frank

Oh-so-apologetic

2004-03-16T20:40:00.000-08:00

Dreadfully sorry for the delay in this initial posting, but I have been jet-setting in magnificent Colorado. Okay, that would be a lie (the jet-setting part, that is...I really was in Colorado)...I actually spent a drunken weekend with two close friends who generously donated their time to help me find "number ten." For those of you who may be on the outside of my inner circle (read:everyone), "number ten" refers to the tenth man that I will sleep with (in my lifetime, not in that particular weekend). I thought that christening him "number ten" was highly unoriginal, but it actually morphed into a rather interesting label for a variety of Colorado men.

The most ironic part of the quest for number ten was my own lack of involvement. My best friend was particularly obsessed with the quest, prompting her to accost random men on the street to ask them if they were "number ten." She got a number of "yes"'s and "absolutely"'s, along with one particularly witty guy who responded with "no, I'm number eleven" (I almost slept with him purely on the orginality of his response...well, not really).

I partially believe that my friend's obsession with number ten stems from the fact that she has a burning desire for my "numbers" to exceed hers. In truth, I'm not all that far off, but it makes me wonder about American society in generally. Are we really that sexually repressed? Moreover, are we really so categorical that we need to reduce our romantic and/or physical relationships to a number?

Either way, I unfortunately or fortunately did not find number ten last weekend. However, there is active bidding on Ebay for the privledge of the title. I did have a hell of a time, dance my ass off, and make out (high school keg party style) with a random guy in a bar. Amazingly, he was too drunk to stand, but not to drunk to maintain an erection that was pressed against my leg as he used me for support. All in all, Colorado was a blast, even though I did not fulfill my own personal objective for the trip, which was to drive to Vail and set random things on fire in the hopes that Ryan from the Bachelorette would arrive to "punish" me for my pyromaniacal tendencies.

Now it is back to my everyday world of mortgage payments and counseling the physically abused youth of America...which dictate that I should not be blogging at 1am. Should my life prove to become more interesting, I shall post more tomorrow.

Colorado vs. Hessen

2004-03-16T20:39:00.000-08:00

This weekend I visited my parents with two of my kids. My father became 76. It was a very special birthday, we haven't met since 14 years. I'd like to post something concerning my latest family reunion, but nothing of importance happened. I even really can't remember a specific reason, we just parted, drifted apart. My beginning career, working for a big German computer company, later as a consultant in a management consulting firm and now again in an other big company, didn't allow to settle down. My kids loved my sisters at once, both lawyers, my younger sister a career politician, the other a mother of two, despite the fact they saw them for the first time in their life. My daughter is 15, my son 14.

Maybe the time has come to rest. Frank

My Favourite Webspot

2004-03-09T20:41:00.000-08:00

Days ago I stumbled over a web snippet. It is about a girl who does not really share her boyfriend's hobby 4-wheeling. I love this spot because of this very, very desperate "Push it!" exclamation of her giving me the creeps.

http://home.eplus-online.de/1807/4by4-toy.avi

Killing Time on Weekends

2004-03-01T20:42:00.000-08:00

What does a bored Geman suburbanite do on a snowy weekend? He's supposed to go on a ride with his horse and produces a film snippet afterwards.

http://home.eplus-online.de/1807/schnee.mpg

The music I mixed in is taken from tatu - 30 minutes. Due to high compression needs I sacrified the original sounds made by my gelding. I love this song for its depressing mode.

Dear Jen

2004-02-20T20:44:00.000-08:00

what do you think? Would you like to participate in the first intercontinental blog?