A Quick State of The State


For those of you who follow this blog with any degree of regularity and/or consistency, you know that I have the worst luck in love.   I pick emotionally fractured men.  Perhaps, it’s all the result of water seeking its own level.  I mean, I can’t deny that I”m not the most mentally healthy bottle in the wine rack…

Then again, I’m not sure anyone out there pounding the pavement of life is without mental or emotional sin in some form or fashion.

But with me?   I collect these men.   Like a menagerie.   They gather round me like I’m this Pied Piper of the Mentally Frayed.   In fact,  a few months ago, I broke up with a man who’s emotional flaws  were so massive, he’s destined to one day be the face of Thorazine.

I had a conversation with another man recently who’s having massive priority issues….namely in that I’m not one of them.  Now, the old Laurie would’ve pouted and stomped her feet and demanded his time and attention, but she would also have been willing to settle for whatever crumbs she could receive.   My self-esteem was such that I would’ve been content to be the seventh most important item on his life’s “To Do” list.  And I was.   I was irrelevant .   From what I understand, I barely bested an upcoming rectal exam.

Be that as it may, I’m relatively proud of the fact that  I’ve emerged from the ashes of all my failed relationships like this mighty Phoenix…but with a  damaged wing.   Admittedly,  I’ve not completely nursed myself back to complete emotional  health, but the mere fact that I’m no longer willing to put up with that which I once was willing to put up with, means forward progression.

But progress has come with a price.  I’ve done some idiotic things to get and keep a man in my life.    

I’ve begged and pleaded.

I’ve cried and moaned and turned myself into women I wasn’t and never wanted to be.  The willing forfeiture of your identity is a tragically heinous  thing and I did it repeatedly. 

Back in 1979, I fell head over heals in love with a fifth string University of Texas Longhorn fullback.  He was also a heavily starched Polo shirt wearing UT Frat Rat who worshipped God, Texas and William F. Buckley, but only when Reagan was busy.  I became this sad, pathetic sorority girl wana be, but I couldn’t pull it off.   I tried to walk the walk and talk the talk and wear the Anne Klien Espadrilles, but I looked like an obvious  knock-off  “Prado” bag  in a sea of real purses.  I still shake my head over that ridiculousness.

Then, I (an inveterate carnivore) became a Vegan for an old Hippie in the early 90’s.

I learned Spanish for another.

I lost 40 pounds for one man because he liked his women thin.  “Women” being the operative word.

And I tried like hell to care for all of them.

And I failed at every relationship.   I never cared that much about any of them.  Not enough, anyway.

But the bigger issue here is that I just didn’t care enough about myself.

So, my self-imposed “no man moratorium” continues and I won’t allow any dalliances or brief flirtations to the contrary.  Now isn’t the time.   It is however time to employ steely resolve.   I still have wounds to heal, lessons to learn and strategies to plan.

And by lessons, I mean learning from  previous mistakes.   

I’ve learned the hard way that there are certain things you simply cannot tell a man.   For example, referencing the current  geo-political climate in an argument for your cause isn’t a good idea.   

Never attempt to tell a man (crazy or sane) that if he DOESN’T fall in love with you, the terrorists will win.




  1. I don’t know how to fix making mistakes with men, but I do know what to look for in a man that will bring you a successful relationship.

    I started a blog about men and how they can better love women. I would love for yo to take a look and give me your comments and feedback. The things I tell men to do are the things to look for in a good man.


  2. You are dear and hilarious! There’s a man out there for you. There has to be! Keep on keepin’ on and bravo for sharing in such a delightful way.

    Thank You.

    May All Beings Be Happy.

And now, you may opine your ass off...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s