Forgive my, Father, for I have sinned. I haven’t written a word in 3 1/2 weeks. And I wasn’t even ending world hunger or anything. I was making out…(whispering)…with a boy.

To think…I almost didn’t include a Hot Lips section when I was giving birth to this blog baby. I mean, when you’re 37 and single, what do you write about? The dating pool? There isn’t a woman on the planet who isn’t familiar with the dating pool. That hasn’t, on occasion, found herself standing next to a man who just peed in it.

But it’s amazing how things change in an instant. Two months ago, I was bounding happily through single life, determined never to date again, boldly going where no man has gone before. Like to the movies alone. Now…I’m dating again. Not just dating. But Dating. My college sweetheart from 17 years ago. And I think he may have roofied me. Because I used to be able to form complete sentences. But for a couple of weeks now, all I’ve been able to manage is “Jafarfer flugen double-jointed gooyah huba…creepy goggles.” It’s like the last 10 minutes of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

And you know how I made fun of tragic-man-kissers last time? Well, God punished me. By turning me into a Venus Bear Trap.

Venus Bear Trap – A female mouth you couldn’t pry open with the jaws of life. That screams “There ain’t no way you’re getting past these lips!” Usually given by a woman with adult braces. Who is convinced she will permanently mangle the perfect face of one college sweetheart. 

But really, I blame him. He asked for a peck. He actually said the word “peck.” Ugh…he obviously didn’t read my last blog post.

Fortunately, this may be the most persistent man on the planet…who doesn’t let anything slide. Because Kiss #1 (or #327, depending on how you look at it) may have been the Venus Bear Trap, but Kiss #2 (or #328) was the greatest kiss EVER. PS…no face was harmed in the making of this film. Even though I had Edward Scissorhands in my mouth.

And as long as we’re talking Rohyphenol, I wonder if I’m suddenly emitting a hallucinogenic substance that temporarily incapacitates my victims. Because Mr. Texas (oh yeah, he lives in Texas) says I calm him down.

Wait, let me turn my mic on…TAP TAP TAP…HE SAYS I CALM HIM DOWN.

34 people just blew milk out of their nose. No one has ever used my name and “calming effect” in the same sentence. Imagine Fran Dresher and Gilbert Gottfried as a team on The Amazing Race. That’s me in a relaxed state. So to hear that I have a calming effect on the man who is known for his calming effect means something is definitely up. But, whatever. 

So, the roller coaster ride begins. Did I mention I get severe motion sickness? On a scale of stomach flu to Linda Blair, I’m way up there. I didn’t even make it through Cloverfield.

PS, Father…as long as I’m confessing, I’m not really Catholic. But my mother married a Catholic. With six Catholic children and something like 47 Catholic grandchildren. So our Catholic to Protestant ratio is pretty high. That counts, right?