I am often attracted to guys with lots of tattoos. Not men with 1 or 2 tats strategically placed so a golf shirt or ankle sock hide them –I’m talking about guys with sleeves of ink.

But, it’s not the tattoos that turn me on – in fact, I think tattoos are gross (and no, I do not have one.) And I don’t like “bad boys” because, seriously, the last thing I need is drama. I don’t always want them in my life – I just want them in my bed.

If I’m feeling sexual chemistry between 2 guys and one is covered with body art, I’m fucking that one.

It’s because I interpret their refusal to conform to mainstream societal expectations as a willingness to embrace life on the fringe.

It has been my experience, that most people covered in tattoos are very open, self-aware individuals. They don’t worry what anyone else thinks about who they are or what they do. And because they are often judged, they can be some of the most accepting of new ideas and experiences.

And don’t forget how categorically tactile-centric they are. They love the pain. They love feeling. They love the adrenaline and dopamine. It is on this level we are the same.

I’m awesome.
I really, REALLY am.

There were a few years there where my awesomeness was so powerful, even I couldn’t control it.

It seems that around the time I started my personal work (ok, call it therapy if you must) I started to be less awesome. Oh, it was always there – but the “hella-awesome” started to dim…

Honestly, over the past 2 years or so, I’ve gotten quite boring. When you’ve gotten to the point where you’re bored with yourself it’s up to you and only you to do something about it because your friends and family are probably happy with the break they’re having from your awesome-drama and won’t tell you how lame you’ve become so you only have 1 chance to reclaim the former awesome you before it’s lost forever to mainstream momdom. (Yes, the second sentence should be exclaimed in its entirety using only 1 breath.)

Don’t get me wrong – much good came from my personal work. But my awesomeness wasn’t my problem... how I used it was.

So I’ve decided to approach this problem like a Project Manager: identify the problem, investigate solutions, make a plan, implement the plan, compare control to result to verify if plan was successful.

Identify the problem: I got boring. There’s no beating around the bush here. I was fun and exciting and spontaneous. Now I am predictable and cautious and regimented.

Investigate Solutions: How will I regain my awesomeness? Well, partying like a literal rock star, specifically someone of Madonna’s ilk, isn’t really what I had in mind. Maybe someone more along the lines of Gwen Stefani?

Make a Plan:
1. Hang out more – outside of my house. (Yeah, I’m for real.)

2. Talk to strangers like I used to. (Always loved doing that.)

3. Go to new places and try new things. (Alone and maybe with new stranger friends?)

4. Make time for activities that used to make me happy. (This one will be key to the success of this plan.)

Implement Plan: Alright, today is January 3rd. It’s now or never. I’ve already lost 2 days of this year. Good Project Managers don’t let their schedules slip because of excuses, whiney team members or budget constraints.

Next Steps: Let’s review in 90 days to assess my progress.

Wish me luck!

I often wonder about people and their priorities and their role within our society and the global community.

I know that’s a very broad, sweeping statement, but to be more specific, this is what I was thinking about while watching The Voice earlier this week:

Some people give up everything - an education, a house, having a family - for what they are passionate about.

While others give up what they are passionate about to accomplish what they feel is expected of them such as getting a degree, buying a house and having kids.

I don’t think either group is more right than the other. In fact, I think both groups are sadly missing a big part of what makes life worth living.

Just my 2 cents.




I was just explaining, to a nameless stranger, my theories on life and love and the 3 kinds of boys every woman needs in their life to be successful.  (If you don't know these things about me by now, either you are not a true NB fan or you're new so, you can read the historical posts on this site.)

Anyway... he was stunned by my honestly and grasp on reality and even completed that I really had my "act together." And he was obviously enamoured - who isn't, really?

And he said something that I found entertaining. He said "You're speaking my language - like we live on the same planet - and that has never ever happened before."

I know it hasn't, bro.
Cuz nice girls don't say out loud what most people are thinking. Cuz their skerd.

But Nat Blake does.
She has an anxiety disorder that's triggered by time, and a HUGE problem with authority. So yeah, she's in a rush to get a shit-ton of things accomlished in a very short period. Are you in or are you out?

tell me...




Been thinking about time - specific times in people’s lives. 

Some call them Phases.
Some call them Periods.
I call them Journeys.

I call them that because they are like side trips we take within our greater journey through life.

I call them journeys because we go places we haven’t been before – personally and perhaps literally. And we talk to strangers who may teach us something good or teach us something bad.

We make new friends and new enemies.

We get excited, we get satisfied, we get curious, we get scared and we experience.

And above all else, we learn something abut ourselves.

More on this to come…



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This is gonna ramble – try to keep up and don’t feel bad if you can’t.


o·ver·whelm [oh-ver-hwelm, -welm]
verb (used with object)

1. to overcome completely in mind or feeling
2. to overpower or overcome, especially with superior forces; destroy; crush
3. to cover or bury beneath a mass of something, as floodwaters, debris, or an avalanche; submerge
4. to load, heap, treat, or address with an overpowering or excessive amount of anything
5. to overthrow.

I often use the word “overwhelmed” when I’m feeling completely stressed. Not a little stressed, but stressed to a point where I feel frozen with fear, anxiety, anger, indecision, etc. and I stop moving forward with anything because I don’t feel like I can breathe.

My late therapist, Marilyn (RIP *tear*) told me that it takes 6-12 months for you to see your new partners “ugly.” She’s talking about what you KNOW you’re getting after the courting phase wears off and you get to see what they’re really like. Don’t get me wrong – they’re probably still charming and seem almost perfect or you wouldn’t still be with them, but it takes that long for them to let their guard down and feel like they can be themselves and they can show that side of them they don’t advertise while looking for love.

I saw his major flaw back in late spring. It’s a big one. But, more than what it was, was that he wasn’t up front about it at first. I know what my uglies are. I was up front once our relationship started turning from friendship to something more serious: I cheat and I get overwhelmed.

The first one was understandably concerning, as it would be for most people.

But the second sounds manageable – Nat gets overwhelmed. She’s a single mom with kids and pets and a career and a boyfriend and her own interests and friends… anyone in her position would get stressed out sometimes.

Yeah, but it’s more than that. And it’s hard to explain because of how it affects so many areas of my life.

Well, TAG saw what I meant this weekend.
It’s never pretty when I crater. It’s even embarrassing.
The tears, the stand-off-ishness, the pity party and the “thousand-yard” stare.
Then the admission that I can’t do “it.”
I do not have the emotional capacity to do “it.”
And he never wavered. He gets it. He was solid as a rock.
His reaction drew me closer to him than even I could have anticipated.

Sex with someone you care about takes work. Not in a bad way, but because you care about them and you care about the experience. And the caring is an emotion I just don’t have room to accommodate when I get like this – cuz I’m maxed out. I have no fuel left in the tank for extras because I can barely make it through the parts of my days that are required of me.

But, sexual encounters with strangers are almost effortless. I don’t care about them. I don’t have to talk with them afterwards or worry about what they’ll think of me. They aren’t going to need me to take care of them or listen to them.

They will not be a drain on what little I have to give.

And where sex with someone I care about will help me release some of my pent up anxiety – an encounter with a stranger will offer an oxytocin/adrenalin high that can not be matched and lasts for 2 days. 

So the angel/devil self-talk starts:
“But I can’t DO that anymore.” “But why can’t I?”
“I am not that person anymore.” “Then who am I?”
“I don’t want to risk what I have.” “But I love the adventure.”
“Why is this so hard?” “Because you’re denying who you really are.”

This is my ugly.





Social media is losing its shine.  

Facebook is changing almost weekly and I don’t care what photos my friends like – unless they are of people I am also friends with. My FB timeline is filled with the spam of what my friends are liking, playing and commenting on and it’s all jumbled in with the often hysterical political rants and raves of the same friends. If I wanted continuous political assessments and doomsday judgments I’d have downloaded an app for that – or maybe cancelled all my cable channels except C-SPAN (yawn) and Fox (aw shit, there was a jailbreak at Arkham.)

Twitter is also becoming less and less attractive. I was initially drawn to it because of the anonymity (assumed) it afforded that FB didn’t. I had the opportunity to say and do whatever I wanted – if I wanted and when I wanted. But now I know too many of my followers so it’s like the slightly naughtier FB. It was fun at first and can still make me laugh occasionally, but with tweets, subtweets, retweets, quoted tweets, star fucking, twittercides, DMs and now some entirely new group of assholes that has figured out how to spam me with “Promoted Tweets,” it’s getting tiresome and emotionally taxing.

I still like Instagram (for now) and I probably will until Facebook fucks that up, too – it’s only a matter of time.

How are we feeling about these?  

CougarLife.com ~ “The Ultimate Catch”


AshleyMadison.com ~ “Life is short. Have an affair.”

Oh, and for your convenience, both are available in the App Store.





Let me be clear. I KNOW I am very blessed and have so many wonderful and beautiful things to thank God for every day.


I'm feeling:

A little hopeless.
Trapped. (the kiss of death as hard-core NB fans know all too well.)

I've fallen into my predictable pattern again. I can feel it. I can see what it's doing. And, I can recognize it. But, I can. not. stop. it. 

You know the drill by know, right? 

1. I dont want to talk to people. (or communicate much at all.)
2. I don't want to leave my house.
3. Everything that seems even the least bit stressful feels OVERWHELMING. 
4. I am crippled - by fear, by uncertainty, by anxiety, by not being in control. 
5. I don't like this about myself. 

But I'm going to try something new.

TAG prays. He's open and sincere about it. He's really good at it, too. He's prayed for me before - and things happen. Like, my lost cat showed up, my kids and I got over the heartbreak of 2 pets that went to heaven, I got a job, the poison ivy incident didn't kill me, and several other things. It's almost a joke between us. When either of us is stressed or looking for answers to what life throws in our path - i just say "Hey! Pray about it and it'll all turn out just as it should. You do it, cuz God listens to you."

Early last week I asked TAG what he prays for.

Does he ask for specific things to happen? Not happen? If so, what do you pray for when God doesn't make things happen the way you prayed for them to? 

He said "I pray for guidance." 

Huh? Whaaaa...? Guidance? 

"Or patience to wait for Him to show me what his plan for me is." 

I was stunned. 

I've been a good little church going girl my entire life. And I've prayed (prayed so hard) the way I thought I was supposed to. I don't think I've ever prayed for guidance though. 

So, tonight I'm going to pray for guidance. With an open heart.

And patience - cuz i'll need it while I prepare to recognize the guidance. 

I've been thinking about God's plan for my life and how I got here. I've also been more aware of the impact I have other the lives of others lately. And I think maybe God put TAG in my life, right now, to offer me guidance.

nb out.

I'm always amazed at how people come into my life.
What brought our paths together here? Now?

It's even more amazing the affect some people have on me - often without even knowing it.

I guess it's all in the timimg.