My sex life is certainly NOT like the movies, . . . I just wish it was ~ Lucky Lopez

Blog #21: Cougar Cub Returns

December 3rd, 2011

Day# ? – Who Knows How Long of No Sex.

Sometimes, there is a dude that comes into our lives, and no matter how incredibly connected or attracted we are to this human being – all the rules of logic, common sense, and ensured mental sanity – state that there is no way in hell you should be with that person – sometimes even in the same room.

Have any of you experienced this?

I have . . . and I am.

Maybe it is the tug and tow phenomenon also suffered by two magnets – the dance of all that should and absolutely shouldn’t be – one always teetering on the other.

I told you guys about my crazy infatuation with one of my friend’s younger brothers (Max) sometime back. We shared a few adolescent-like rendezvous that ended in nothing more than a G-rated kiss – concluded by a week or two of me obsessing as to why he chose to disappear from my life.

I can’t blame the guy. It is most certain that a specimen of his beauty has a plethora of trim, toned, and tanned sorority girls clawing their way to get a minute by his side.

I would too.  If I was trim, toned, and tan that is – then maybe I’d stand a chance.

Aside from my obvious attraction to the “forbidden” . . . I can’t even understand why I am drawn to this guy.

I’ve never particularly been attracted to “hot” guys . . .

Most of them (from my experience) are terrible lovers, and have the attention span of a starving gnat . . . their eyes constantly darting in every direction to ensure they don’t miss another hot specimen of the opposite sex that may squander by.

But Max is different, and I can’t exactly tell you why.

I am sure you are wondering why I am bringing up Max again and why the hell I am rambling on with all this nonsense without divulging any juicy details . . . So . . . I’ll get to the point.

Max called me out of the blue the other day.

It was perfect timing as I have honestly been bored out of my mind and more than unimpressed with my dates as of late.

The closest “match” was a dental student who was in his last year of residency at one of the many med schools nearby.

We had an incredible first date:  Expensive steak dinner with a divine indulgence of twice-baked potatoes followed by a couple of glasses of wine over casual conversation in which he – (nearly over tears) confessed that he was in a “bad place” in his life and was not ready for a relationship.

Uhhhhh.  Okay?!? . . . Random  . . .

Needless to say, I gave him a hug at the end of date, wished him luck in his “crisis,” and Thank God – he never contacted me again.

But Max, on the other hand did.  And I was admittedly jumping for “yippy” joy when I heard his greek-god-like voice on the other end of the line . . .

He was going to be in my “neck of the woods” he said, and wondered if I wanted to grab a drink . . .

and grab a drink, or two, or three, or four we did.

There was no disingenuous talk of LSATs or law school . . . just the simple objective of partaking in some alcohol.

He offered to pick me up – which I thought was a little weird . . . but I agreed.

He arrived – looking as delicious as ever.  Hair:  effortlessly swept to the side as usual, and this time he sported an extremely hot five-o’clock shadow.

It was speckled in the most perfect way . . . defining every one of his flawless features.

I – on the other hand, had gained a little weight since the last time we saw each other, so I was filled with a host of random and dreadful insecurities – feeling pudgy, old, wrinkly, and the least bit sexy. 

Despite feeling like everything but “hot” when I saw him again, the attraction was dangerously obvious.

Which of course made me feel even more awkward – like a post-pubescent teenager . . . big and small in all the wrong places.  I hated it.

I hated feeling less . . .  Less attractive, less sexy, less confident, less everything than he.  I wasn’t used to that feeling and it bothered me – to my (admittedly) control-freak core.

I wondered if he noticed . . . that the confident lawyer he kissed in her Honda CRV about a year ago had all but wilted into an insecure handful of pruny petals – pitifully pining over this “man” that definitely seemed much more like a boy during our last encounter a year ago.

If he did notice, he didn’t let it show.

He smiled warmly and gave me a sincere hug – the type shared when upon it’s initiation – there’s a spontaneous and mutual realization that you actually missed the person you are holding in that moment.  My heart fluttered.

So he took me to a quaint little neighborhood bar – the kind where none of the furniture, artwork, or wait staff had been replaced in 20 years . . . it was cozy and comfortable. I liked it.

He asked what my drink of choice was . . . “Malibu with pineapple juice” I said.

We talked about almost everything . . . life . . . jobs, family, friends, and even love and how we wish we could find it.

Our conversation was incredibly more mature in nature than I expected from someone who in every way seemed like a man, but nonetheless was ten years my junior – no matter how I tried to slice it.

And then one, or two of glasses of my chosen drink later . . . I found that we were sitting much closer to each other in the booth – than we were originally.

My stomach sank, and then did a few summersaults upon this awareness. I liked him.

I knew I liked him.  But should I? . . . Like him?

The more I looked into his beautiful green eyes, the more I couldn’t extinguish that little voice in my head that kept saying . . . “I want him.”

I felt foolish for even entertaining the thought.  Here I was obsessed with the possibility that we could share anything more than a few drinks, and this poor guy probably was just bored on a Friday night and happened to stumble upon my name in his cell phone.

But then . . . After a few more drinks of mine and his choice, later . . .

“So you wanna go?” he said . . . looking at me with that irresistible grin that melted me like butter.

His eyes – piercing through me like Superman – who could without a doubt, read my mind.

“Ummmmm . . . sure” I said.

Where were we going?  I didn’t know . . . but I was sure about to find out . . .

Stay tuned.

- Lucky 

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Blog #20: The “Improvement” Committee

October 1st, 2011

Marilyn Monroe once said “I’m selfish, impatient, and insecure. I make mistakes. I am out of control and at times, hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you don’t deserve me at my best.”

I am a huge proponent and subscriber of this mentality.  Of course, I don’t look like Marilyn Monroe . . . nor am I “gifted” like her, so it’s kinda hard to advertise a similar trade-off to a potential date or partner.

Nonetheless, I choose to believe that I am a “catch” to someone . . . out there . . . somewhere . . . in this universe.

I mean, isn’t that the purpose and motivation behind dating?  You throw all your cards out there, hoping they will land in a pattern or combination that someone Read more…

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Blog #19: Is Passion A Hazard?

September 16th, 2011

I have frequently been accused of being passionate . . .
well, I call it passionate . . . others may choose to call it: animated, intense, melodramatic, fervent, and hot-headed – to name a few alternatives . . .

I just call it passionate.

I suppose I was born this way . . . or so it seems – as evidenced by my mother’s overly eager desire to share childhood stories – wherein I would purportedly get so angry, I would tremble in my tiny bones – tight fisted as all hell get out, and purple veins would rear their ugly head on the paleness of my 2 yr. old forehead.

Passion, . . . yes, that’s what I call it.

I can agree that the fact that I am 36 and still unmarried may indicate that my “passion” may possibly be Read more…

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Blog #18: The Hero Syndrome
(Lesson #3)

September 6th, 2011

Day 471:  No Sex

Lesson #3:  Never wait for a hero, because the type of hero you are waiting for may never come.

So yesterday . . .  a friend of mine who has been seeing a therapist for the last couple of months had a nugget of “insight” to share with me about men . . .

Her therapist insists that men are actually very simple creatures, and are motivated by the need to fulfill one role and one role only in relationships . . .


She went on to explain that men’s motives, objectives, and romantic reasoning were all fueled by the need to save, rescue, or salvage a woman.

I initially scoffed at this little perceived notion, but then began to wonder if it could possibly be true . . .

Do men really go around walking the world in search of opportunities to put a cape on?

Furthermore, is it men’s NEED to be a hero, or woman’s need to HAVE a hero that creates this phenomenon?

Well, let’s think about this for a minute . . .

The most common theme in the best romance movies Read more…

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Blog #17: Love, Lust and Losing

March 14th, 2011

Day 295:  No Sex

Okay, so I know you are wondering where the hell I’ve been . . . 

To be quite honest, I am too . . .

Wondering where the hell I’ve been (that is).

You know life is funny sometimes . . . okay . . .  dammit . . . most of the time.

We put ourselves out there . . . throw caution to the wind . . . flick ourselves at LOVE like spaghetti on a wall and hope Read more…

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Blog #16: Waking Up Next to Reality Dude

December 2nd, 2010

Day 194:  No Sex

As the sting of a sip/turned gulp of full-bodied carbernet began to settle into my taste buds, I contemplated the words that just came from RD’s mouth:

“Wanna spend the night?”

My mind became a fortuitous circus – playing out all of the endless scenarios:  all the things I “did” and “didn’t” want to Read more…

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Blog #15: Spending the Night with Reality Dude

November 17th, 2010

Day 179:  No Sex

So in our last phone conversation, reality dude was deficient of small talk – leading me to conclude that this hombre is an hombre of action, and not words.

And for that, I am awarding him a shiny gold star for a good start

. . .

considering my last boyfriend was a man of ummm . . . neither.

I knew a face to face would be required if I ever cared to get to know reality dude beyond any of my initial superficial perceptions.

So when I decided to call him a few days later, I was beyond shocked when he asked:  “You wanna come over for dinner?”

Although my knee jerk reaction prompted a casual affirmation, I was later swelled by anxiety as I began to contemplate all the possible interpretations of “dinner” . . .

For a single chick . . . being invited by a potential beau to “come over for dinner” can mean a multitude of things; including but not Read more…

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Blog #14: To Date or Not to Date (Reality Dude)

November 4th, 2010

Day 166:  No Sex

. . . Continued from “Phone Call From Reality Dude”


a distinctive man’s voice answered on the other end of the line.

It was “Reality Dude” sounding even manlier and sexier than I had remembered.

I wondered whether somehow my google “stalking” over the last week had subconsciously increased his dating “cache” . . .

He was still the guy who I met (quite hesitantly) at a coffee shop a week prior . . .

The “womanizer” reality star who surprisingly peaked my interest . . .

not only because he was far more intriguing than the egotistical guy he “played” on reality TV, . . .

but also because I felt strangely attractive, sexy, and Read more…

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Blog #13: Phone Call From Reality Dude

October 23rd, 2010

Day 155:  No Sex

So before I get to “reality dude” . . . I know a lot of you have been wondering what the heck happened with my sexually uninterested boyfriend  . . .

Well that “thing,” whatever it was . . . has all but fizzled out into a speck of non-existence.

I couldn’t ever possibly explain, describe, or attempt to define that catastrophic mystery of a relationship . . .

It initiated like a blazing fire . . . and then like a candle with it’s mortal wick; burned through Read more…

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Blog #12: Reality Stars Are People Too

October 16th, 2010

Day 148:  No Sex

So I had my first meeting with the “reality dude” . . .

to see if he could possibility play any role in my current work-in-progress screenplay.

Forgive me for admitting that I have never managed to shake my bias – of deeming anyone who appears in a show with the word “Real” in the title . . . as anything but.

Although I was initially adverse to the idea of a rendezvous with a reality star . . . I was persuaded by my good friend Mark who thought us meeting could potentially be a win-win situation.

So we met Read more…

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