Heavens to Betsy

I actually have a date with the Wall Streeter who looks like John John Kennedy.
On Thursday.
After 7:00 so I can come home and clean up from teaching preschool.

I wonder if I can lose 15 pounds by Thursday?
Oops! Too late.

The 39 year old Horn Dog attorney is hot on my tail, but he's definitely just a boy. This other one is a M-A-N, and I've been very provocative. He's seen this picture, though, so he knows what I look like.


It really is too bad a person can't lose 15 pounds in two days. Maybe I could with "Shit Yourself Thin" as per Anna Nicole Smith. The thing is that John John has closed his Plenty of Fish account, so he's trying to make it look to all the women he made dates with that he's not dating anyone but them. And there is the possibility that in real life, he looks like just another dark, tan, fit, wealthy golfer with an ex-wife taking him to the cleaners for being such a philanderer.

I tell you what: I am looking forward to hearing what this one has to say. As it happens, Velvet will be home since Buzz Kill will be out of town on business. I believe John John's primary residence is in Affluenza, NJ. He alleged that he spent Monday morning in the sun by his pool. Ergo: smooching is as far as this date is going. In the first place, there's no way I'm leaving Velvet home alone that long. Motherhood First - although being Velvet, he has already inquired into John John's potential as an "Uncle Beau." In truth, Velvet is rooting for the Man from San Antone, but that's a long term project. Secondly, I would never be on time for work if I went anywhere in NJ. I can't hardly make it on time right now, and I don't live a quarter mile away.

Dating can be exciting, but you never know when you're going out with a serial killer by accident. That's why I usually have set up a few safe calls throughout the evening with friends that I answer conspicuously. I confess there was a time during my scandalous past when, according to Rhet, if I disappeared Agatha Christie herself would have thrown up her hands in surrender. But that's in the book I'm supposed to be writing.

Jesus - what am I going to wear?
Thank goodness Rhet makes sure I have nice perfume so that even if I only have two decent outfits, I always smell nice. I'll never lose 15 pounds by Thursday if I keep eating the pasta that won't fit into the Tupperware when I'm cleaning up the kitchen. That's why smart girls chew sugarless gum when doing the dinner dishes: to prevent turning into a Human InSinkErator. Lord, I'm not going to be able to eat any snacks with the kids at school either. My BMI finally got into the Green Zone on the chart in my doctor's office so I'm no longer at risk just because my belly shakes like a bowl full of Jello when I laugh - just like Santa's in the night before Christmas.

I'm just glad to know from my reading on the internet that men are just as hung up on their bodies as women. And besides - John John probably has a squint or hair on his ears. Or just an arrogant attitude that makes me want to pour ice water in his lap . . .