Men. They have been part of my life actively these past few months. Who am I kidding...they have been a driving force in my life since age 2. A glorious preoccupation of mine since I could think? Walk? Talk? Feel? Not sure but if there is anything besides music that has been my life's compass it has surely been men. Loved my daddy and it went from there. I'm also blessed: Having been born a woman my emotional vision has no limits, therefore I have been attracted to the lot of them- Men. Someone who barely knew me once accused me of being a “player.” I considered it. I am not. I take people, love and connecting to one another much to seriously for that and you will notice as you read on, I remember almost everyone...from infatuations to a moment to true love. They have all carved out there place, some deeper then others...obviously.

Of late I have been distracting myself from the loss of my dad by being “pro active” about men. Also I've been trying to let it aid me in moving past the man I have this once-in-a-lifetime connection to and can not have. “The last one kissed” is a teen aged idea that sometimes works in grown up land too. The idea being if you “kiss” someone new (and sometimes actually the kiss has no quotation marks around it) you will at least be reminded that others can float your boat besides the one you are still pining for. Then there's the man I don't ever want to get over (my father) who I now discover is more my measuring stick than ever and no one....no one is THAT tall! I have male friends who are exceptional people and I sing with a band of amazingly decent and gifted men. ALL these fellows are filled with character and integrity (which is the sexiest thing in the world if you are or strive to be a person of quality yourself) so whether I'm just dating or looking for “him”...if he's any less then the above mentioned men, it will not only never work for me, but it just flat out does not turn me on anymore...if it ever really did I guess. If I don't get to f*c! what's between your ears and what's in your soul – I'd rather do it myself thank you. Don't let my language fool you. I curse like a sailor (Not a riverboat queen...a sailor) but I am all woman, part girl and very sure of the continued development of my fine character :) At this point, I also enjoy the hell out of my own company and think any man in his right mind who is even the slightest bit attracted to me would declare “Jackpot!” if he snagged me. As my mother would say “How do ya like them apples?” lol.

 I was born straight and it was very apparent and active in me by age two. Like someone who knows they were gay from minute one...I was S T R A I G H T! As I grew up I over heard my dad say to my mom ...with great concern...”Lina is boy crazy”. I guess at 12 that is a concern for a Greek/American father who grew up with only brothers . But...there was no stoppin me. I was off to the races boys and girls! Men. Oh how they thrill me still. I am lucky when it comes to my relationships with them over the years because I am a person first. I was/am a “fat girl” so I cultivated my person as I did not have an aesthetic to fall back on or use as bait with the opposite sex. When it came to men I was forced into leading with a real person so I had to develop one and thats most easily achieved if its based in honesty and therefore something one can authentically maintain. For this, I remain grateful. So before and after my female “aesthetics” fell into place, my relationships with men have historically been a bit more substantial then many of my girlfriends report about their own. I had a record producer say to me recently (after some fun smoochin and harmless foolin around) “You are unique”. Uh oh...here it comes Lina...brace yourself! But it was insightful “You are the sexiest woman but you make me laugh like I did with my best guy friends in high school too. Its confusing” Two things to say about that: “Umm...Fat girl here!” AND “Jackpot!” A quick sideline about the “Madonna/Whore” Complex: Don't fool yourself ladies of all ages MOST men have it ...God bless them. I am too old to fall into either of those categories anymore and slipped out of both of them to a large degree when I was younger cuz I had this healthy dose of “Oh. I want you to want me pal but if it doesn't go with respect...I won't be turned on” and that handy dandy shield of fat armor if needed.

 There was Mickey -We were in Nursery School, he pushed me on the swing, had big ears and sang “Zippity Do Da.”

 There was Ricky Jenkins. - I was “Little Miss Beaufort, South Carolina” when he made me close my eyes so he could give me a gift and when I did (heart all aflutter) he put a wad of black tar in the palm of my hand.

Ricky Welch - I was the self appointed director of the neighborhood production of “The Sound of Music” in Silver Spring Md., standing in my tree house with an old fashioned megaphone I had found. I was barking orders and showing off cuz I knew he was there and he threw a mud-ball directly into the megaphone and into my big mouth. Oh yeah. Junior High...bad moment. Didn't stop me.

 There were crushes - They were all consuming -Clifford Beek, David Cook, Dougie Martin, Doug Hooper and a 7^th grade hottie named Buzzy.

 First kiss was Joey- Naples Italy. First love was Joey - STOP: My heart.

 More crushes - Chuck who taught me to dance in the teen club there and then back to the states where it snowballed at the speed of light - Paul Bekker, Paul Bandish, John Widder, Richard Madeo.

 My cousins friends - Jeff Walser, Mike something, Capt America, his little brother and Andrew the village stud – STOP: My sexuality.

 There was George and Ira (not the Gershwins ...Not the “Brothers” I would have gone for!) and John- STOP: My virginity.

Continiued crushes and “play dates” and things I don't remember well. (ah booze and drugs!) Bob and Bob and David – STOP: My Big Romance. (still have his love letters in a red train case...hey! They are my love letters)

 Jeff H, Jeff Somethingelse, Some Irish dude, Some actor(s), a guy in the back seat of a car at a south shore bar and Frank.

New York City: Ivan the singer-schtupper; I think I wanted to be with him cuz it was his deal to “do” famous chicks and I was hell bent on being famous! Dr. Bob (a med student,) Clay (a boxer,) (lots more booze and drugs) Now, I'm not sayin I bumped uglies with all these guys...did not, but we all had a moment - each in our own distinct ways.

 Duane, Stevie - STOP: My Friend for life.

Bernie- STOP: Talent alone worth “stopping” for.

Dick - STOP STOP STOP: Dick Gallagher - my best friend and soul-mate in this world. In 3 days he will be gone from this planet for 6 years now. But our connection was so profound that even though he was gay and I am not that kind of girl we HAD to communicate the connection in any and every way we could with each other. So I sang and he was at the piano, he wrote the lyrics and I sang them to the people in the audience and we had sex for a week when we were in our 20's. We held hands and hearts and he played as I walked down the aisle at my wedding and I got to take his 17 year life partner as my 2^nd best friend in the universe and I was enveloped in their lives as they both left this earth and I cry now as I type because it was so magnificent. STOP. STOP. STOP.

 There was Mo - STOP with a wedding dress: A beautiful skin tight white wedding dress with leaves cascading down the whole thing. A gorgeous party and class A honeymoon in Greece. 12 years of everything. Good and bad. Real and ...well this ones got me cryin now too.

Mo - STOP: The love of my life thus far and my family forever.

 Heartache and pain. Joe, Rob, Cary, Michael, Marc- STOP: No more heartache and pain.

 Steph- STOP: 2 peas in a pod. He “saw” me. Through the fat and the facade and it changed my course.

 As I turned the corner -Seth, Bill (I think) Some 30 something tall drink of water on a Harley (and this time there was no booze and no drugs!) Saad, George, the man on 2^nd ave who was looking at me from across the street and walked into a pole. Every girl oughta see that happen because of her at least once! Gerry - STOP: My sex life. I will simply say that every woman (not girl) WOMAN, needs and deserves (even for just 6 months) a Gerry. Nuff said.

 Joe -STOP: Making love. May I simply say that every woman (not girl) needs and deserves (even for just 24 hours) a Joe. Nuff said.

 Roger, Buzz – STOP:Stop worthy because he is a re-appearer: same guy from the 7^th grade. Not sure what the hell this is about but this guy is in disguise. He's all man, all sexy and underneath is a ridiculous amount of what is needed to meet that measuring stick I talked about up above. He pushed himself up against me while we were waiting in line in a packed convenience store a few weeks back and the electricity was almost breath taking...I'm no stranger to these sorts of events but the fact that it can still take my breath away is testament to any man. Thats the kind of sexual chemistry this guy has....as he remains peripherally in my life, the respect that permeates just beneath the surface is noteworthy. Noted.

 The man who's name must not be spoken! (lol) - STOP; Goddamn it STOP: This is where I wanted to stop, literally. With him. The kindness, respect, laughter, admiration, humanity, peacefulness, grace and masculinity. The silly tingles for Gods sake. I was ready to be loved and admired and desired and wanted to give back double to him. This man is deserving and I am the girl AND the woman for the job! He comes closer to both the Dick Gallagher and Dad spot in me then I ever thought any man might come and have to say I didnt/wasnt/don't look for. I remain disappointed he is too afraid to let this kind of thing in. And that statement is after almost a year and half of micro dissection and over analyzing. Its not some response to “He's just not that into you” or something I've decided suits me after having read “Why men cant love a good woman”. Its complicated beyond that of course, but probably boils down to this even without the complications.

 Man who drank too much on a date and grabbed my ass, man who drinks too much in general and talks about AA, man who wanted to talk to me about music but not pick up the coffee check, boy who was born the year I graduated high school (who is the best of this latest bunch, but I enjoy that “Ive already raised my kids” thing in a man at this point), Man who called me to ask me out and then got another call and never called me back. Man who talked for an hour at me and then said he'd like to see me again cuz he felt like he didn't really get to know me! (Ya think??) And man who is calling me in a few minutes to tell me where we are having a drink later tonight.

 Yes, I want the electricity. I want the honesty. The integrity. The soulfulness, the emotional courage, the kissing. I'd like to talk, to tell the truth, to maintain eye contact, to laugh, to be kind, to respect and value, to desire, to witness, work things out, apologize, take responsibility and go the distance - however far that may be at this point-with some someone someday. I want to experience flawed and brilliant humanity with a man in this fashion before I go. I want to feel that male flatness up against my curves...yep...the ones that have shifted and “relaxed” on this journey of mine. I want to look at his crows feet and know that he is happy to see mine. I want to hold hands on the friggin beach and have sex like only a grown woman can.

 I wanna use my voice to sing a tune I co-wrote called “The Last Love Song” somewhere down the road, but in the meantime life is FULL with my own exciting company and the assurance that there is a whole lot of connecting with great men yet to come. As much as they (men) still blow my socks off and as much as they better me (as a woman and certainly as a singer/songwriter) I am good here for the moment. Maybe its because of the title of this blog, so I'll sign off with its explanation:

 A man on Match.com said hello to me this morning. In his profile picture he is in a red convertible behind the wheel, he is holding a martini-straight up/two olives -and in the passenger seat is a Chihuahua...in a leather coat. STOP