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Diaries Past of a Serial Dating Virgin #2 Birdie’s First Cat

Right after graduation, we begin to pack up the house. Box upon box upon box was stacked to the ceiling in the living room. Where were we going? We didn’t know. It was only my mother, my two sisters and I. Mr. Fidel Castro, whom I will call “That Man” from now on, originally left the home for a new job that required him to travel continuously but we later found out he began living with his mistress of 12 years and bastard son in another state. He never returned. I was ecstatic. Apparently, he must have planned his disappearance all along since we had received notice that the house was going into foreclosure for a year’s worth of missed mortgage payments and tens of thousands of dollars were “missing” along with him.

By then, I figured That Man had abandoned us but my mother was still oblivious to that fact. She was hopeful to say the least. I called it delusional, in my mind. I never said it out loud until a few years later. Here we were, my mother, my two younger sisters, and myself all packed up with nowhere to go and a possibility of homelessness hanging in the horizon. It had to be through Divine Intervention that some long time friend’s of the family reached out to us out of nowhere, offering a place to crash for a little while. So we headed on down to the hottest place on earth, where everything’s bigger…the hair, the bugs and the disappointment. Good ‘ol Texas. We were there for only 2 months during the summer but I managed to get my first job at a close by Dairy Queen. It was my first taste of freedom and independence. Something I wasn’t afforded once That Man came into my life at the age of 4 years old on that awful day somewhere in Panama.

So here it begins. The adventures of my bad decision making. I hated my job because that Dairy Queen visor and matching shirt was doing nothing for my innate obsession with style but I loved it because it became a place to get away from the troubles that constantly loomed over our heads. Plus, I could make my favorite strawberry cheesecake blizzard to my heart’s content until I officially got sick of it. We soon found out that we escaped the tyranny of That Man only be bullied by another head-of-household dictator. Therefore, I tried to work as many hours as I could. It was my safe haven. While working there, I somehow gained a lot of admirers from my male co-workers as well as the customers. Some may think this to be considered a great thing but I soon found it to be a great nuisance. Everyday, those boys would come in there to buy any item they deemed appropriate to not look obvious, only wanting me to be the one to serve them. How annoying when I’m in the back trying to feed my face inconspicuously. The only perk to this ridiculous fiasco was that I no longer had to endure a 5 minute ride of unadulterated uneasiness from the new dictator. He was always so…mean. So, to avoid trying to survive another moment of being in the presence of his wrath, I would accept any ride that was offered. Yes, in the back of my mind I knew that one of these desperate boys could have taken me on a detour towards Deathville. However, considering my alternative, I decided it was worth the risk. Thank God their resumé for desperateness didn’t include experience in psycho.

There was one particular boy that began coming to the store every single day. He didn’t strike me as one of the admirers since everyone kept telling me he was gay. He wouldn’t ask to be served by me exactly, but I would notice him staying back until I was the one at the register taking orders. He was weird to say the least. He came dressed like a Michael Jackson imitator with the red leather jacket, tight black pants that barely reached his ankles, black penny loafers, white socks, and an afro like the young Michael to top it off. He wore this outfit each and every day. He never smiled, laughed, frowned…nothing. He was just…there. But everyday, he would come back ad stare at me until I came to the register to serve him. Finally, he broke his silence, I mean, besides the usual request for the chicken basket and oreo blizzard and said, “Will you go out with me?”. Before he could take his next breath I replied with, “I have a boyfriend”. It was a lie but I couldn’t think of anything else. “No” just seemed to easy. He smiled for the very first time, took his order to his favorite table facing the register counter to continue his staring match. I began to freak out internally, speed walked to the back of the store and told all my lying co-workers to shove it for telling me he was gay. They had the most contorted looks on their faces as they tried to soak in the news.

I wanted to disappear. Michael Jackson #2 never failed to complete his daily routine of showing up, ordering his favorite basket, and using his powerful beam of invisible staring laser to make me a nervous wreck. Everyone said he was harmless but I just didn’t have a good feeling about him. All of a sudden my safe haven was turning into hell. One day, I ended up switching my schedule with a co-worker from day to night and I had to close for the first time since working there. Upon starting my shift, everyone informed me I had just missed old Mikey and he didn’t fail to ask for me before leaving. For once, I felt peace and I was happy I wouldn’t have to see him that day. When it was time to close up shop, I began gathering the trash to dump them out back. I had 4 huge bags that probably weighed heavier than me to take to the dumpster. In my preoccupation with trying to successfully get the third bag over my head into the dumpster, I failed to realize I had company. With the bag stuck over my head, Michael #2 grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and the bag tumbles over my head and down my back with an eerie crash that echoed through the night. I attempted to pull my hand away in quick jerks but was shockingly surprised to find he was ten times stronger than his rail thin body looked or I was ten times weaker. Either scenario wasn’t in my favor. I screamed, kicked, screamed and kicked some more but he really had a death grip on me! Out of sheer desperation, I slashed my finger nails across his face aiming for his eyes. Of course, I missed and prematurely began to see my life flash before my eyes. Instead, it was the night manager flashing her flashlight blindingly in my face and screaming for him to go away. We ran inside leaving the last two trash bags to fend for themselves.

After that incident, Mr. Jackson continued his regularly scheduled program.

He was my first stalker. Certainly not the last but…I will never forget him. I wonder if he ever thinks about me?

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Read 1st entry of Diaries Past of a Serial Dating Virgin

How Natural is Monogamy?

 I posed a question to the females in my family and to some of my girlfriends…a question that didn’t sit too well with either one of them right off the bat. Necks started rolling, hands started swinging, and lips started curling. I find it quite funny, how defensive women get on these subjects. Not because it makes me laugh, but because I feel them. I had to tell my family members to set aside all bias because they are females, but to really think about it. This question has always been in the back of my mind, in another attempt to make sense of the world around me, however, unsuccessful.  But, I do understand why it bothers them. This question has been playing in my mind over the past decade because of the experiences I’ve had and other women as well. Is it a coincidence that so many of us have stories so similar to each other? I would think not.

Is it natural for a man to be monogamous? Yes, I know there are men out there that are…but the scale tips over with those that are NOT. The first defense the women had to my question was…of course it’s natural, didn’t God make Eve for Adam? My reply was…Well, of course he only wanted Eve, there were no other women on the planet…well actually, I said…there was no other pussy on the planet…but you catch my drift. I don’t question this because I’m bitter or some broken hearted girl, because I’m really not. Not now anyway. I must admit, I was that girl back in the day when my delusional ideologies about love fell quite short to the reality I faced in dealing with men. I mean, I’m good now. I hold no grudges with anyone since I released all the bad feelings I had…and some terrible ones I had indeed.

 I pose this question because of the world around me. Why are there so many more women than men? Are some women just destined to not find love or be with anyone? There isn’t enough to go around. It’s not just about infidelity…but…Why are so many women constantly cheated on? Yes…again, there are those men that don’t cheat but there are more that do. Is it always the woman’s fault her man cheats? Of course not. Society tends to make the female internalize the reasons why her man cheats…she wasn’t good enough in bed, or she was lacking personality, or she wasn’t pretty enough, or a million other things people come up with. And the main question…Why did those men bible have hundreds of wives and concubines?

That one has me confused. That was changed by a man at that time (Paul)who saw fit to change the law for men to only be allowed to have one wife because of the problems they had back then. Men who had tons of wives weren’t taking care of them or they were openly favoring one wife over another. The women were becoming unruly because the men had too many wives to deal with to keep them in line, per se. This caused problems because the “hated” wives were shunned by the other women and their children were not given their proper titles and inheritance. So, it was a man that changed this. Was that meant to be? Did he change something that was natural to something that is close to impossible? Would everyone be happier if it was acceptable for men to have more than one wife? I mean, as long as he could take care of them.

Don’t get it twisted, I don’t think, for one second, that I could be able to live in that type of lifestyle, like most women think. But, is it because we are used to the way it is now? Most women are still going through it these days with their men (sharing with other women) just without their consent. I only pose this question because of my curious nature but I am still sticking to my story. I’m not putting up with it.

I’m just tired of hearing the same old story from my girlfriends, my aunts, my sisters, my co-workers, my neighbors, the media, the celebrities, the teachers, the students, the mothers, the go-getters, the birds, the chicken heads, the welfare chics, the rich chics, the shy chics, the bold chics, the strippers, the librarians, the saved chics, the pretty chics, the ugly chics, the grandmas, and the naive 16 year old chics that got their first boyfriends…My man cheated on me

It’s getting so old. Real old.

And yes…blah, blah, blah…some women do it too…(only a handful) lol

~Raquel (Ms RAQ)

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Bedroom Behavior: The dreaded Shoulder Tap


 Question: My wife and I have been together for almost 2 years now. Before that, we were dating for a little over a year. Our sex life was bangin’ until about 6 months ago. We have sex only once to twice a week but before we would have sex everyday. I think she may be seeing someone else. To top it off, I tapped her last night to have sex quite a few times and I even whispered her name and shook her lightly but she stayed sleeping. She’s not even a heavy sleeper. This is the first time. I just wanted your opinion.

P.L., South Florida

Okay P.L. from South Florida…One of my biggest Pet Peeves when it comes to bedroom activities…the super annoying 2 am shoulder tap. I’m sure lots of women feel the same way. It’s not annoying because it’s 2 am. It’s not annoying because you want sex. It’s annoying because it’s a ridiculous, unspoken, whack attempt at asking for it. It does nothing for my libido and I would bet for her’s neither. As a matter of fact, if I was about to wake up to engage in some extra curricular activities and I feel that vexatious gesticulation…I would feel my vaginal walls begin to retract in dryness and I would pretend I was knocked out, even if you tap to your heart’s content for the next 2 hours. The shoulder tap is the most unsexy, uncreative gesture a man can do. I just do not appreciate it. Men think women just don’t ever want to have sex. That’s not the case…it was the shoulder tap man.

If you feel she may be seeing someone else because of this behavior you describe from her, don’t automatically jump to conclusions. Your sex life may just have become boring or mundane and she simply doesn’t want to do it. But if you have also noticed other signs that may cause you to think she is creeping, then you should find the courage to ask her. This will not guarantee she will be truthful but you might be able to feel out her reaction since you might know her well enough. However, this still does not guarantee you will find the truth. Either way, communication is the key to every relationship or situation. Don’t be confrontational since this may cause her to become defensive.

If there are NO other signs leading you to believe she is cheating, you should change your bedroom game. Step it up. A woman wants a man to be creative, passionately aggressive. Why do you think women always fall for the bad boy type? For one, they NEVER do the tap! It’s not even in their DNA to do it. The problem is, they only want to tap that a** lol. Instead, scoot up behind her and start feelin’ up all the good parts. She is your wife for goodness sake. We loooove that. Not too aggressively at first, kissing the herrogenous zones like the neck and shoulders to get her stirring out of her “sleep”, fake or not. Even go as far as taking the initiative to start removing any clothing or barriers once she starts to wake up, if she’s not pushing you away. If she participates, most likely it was that you needed to step up your game. If she doesn’t, it may be something a whole lot deeper…

That’s where my advice stops…

I don’t have a PhD in Psychology, just in common sense

~Raquel (Ms RAQ)

ASK ME a question

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disclaimer:any advice given by me or anyone else on this website is strictly for entertainment purposes and it is the responsibility of the reader/s to do with it as they please. If you do something that causes you to end up in jail, prison, or on death row…not my fault. If someone ends up filing a restraining order against you…you were already psycho before any advice was given…not my fault. If you end up doing anything else that I haven’t covered in this paragraph that you have managed to think up on your own…not my fault. If you have any thoughts of committing suicide or similar, please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

Diaries Past of a Serial Dating Virgin: #1 Time to let birdie fly free

These are the days of my lives…

I managed to turn 18 with my virginity still intact. How the heck did that happen? I was hot in the panties and equipped with an imagination more explosive than a volcano eruption. I grew up in a very strict Christian home with a hypocritical, domineering stepfather that could be compared to the likes of Fidel Castro. I might be 5% exaggerating, Fidel Castro would be insulted by the comparison. 

I was very sheltered, or more like suffocated under his reign of terror, not allowed to go out past the garage during daylight and I was accused of doing everything under the sun. I wasn’t doing anything but maybe he could read my dirty little mind. I had nothing else to do all day but read, draw, create and put my imaginations to good use writing amateur erotic novels. I was 14. I had no privacy. As soon as I left for school, he would search my room and he would always find my writings, no matter where I hid them. Maybe that’s why he was freaked out and didn’t want me to leave his sight. He probably couldn’t fathom the thought of me becoming the sex-crazed women that starred in my novels. I get it. But it was just my way of expression and release. I was locked up, my own home was a prison, and I was a helpless little bird inside a cage screaming to be released. A good christian girl on the outside and a torn bad one on the inside.

Each time he found my writings, my mother told me he would come running to tell her the details of his new discovery. He was shocked and appalled by the accuracy of my candid little tales only because I was 14 years old, telling her they should try out some new things. I was devastated, to say the least. I didn’t want him knowing my private thoughts and I instantly felt violated and crept even deeper within myself. Nonetheless, this continued for years, two more years to be exact. One day, he decided to find the courage to confront me about my little writing collection. Maybe he felt they were getting to be a little too much. Maybe he felt this couldn’t possibly just be in my imagination. The day I most wish would erase from my memory is the day I remember like it was yesterday.

I come home from school surprised to find him standing in the kitchen waiting for me to come home. I thought it was just one of those days he would tell me I was in trouble for one thing or another, get my punishment, and be on my way. No. It was worse. He wanted to have the…discussion. I thought I escaped having to endure this with him. This was the first time he ever even attempted to talk to me about sex and I was 16 already. I wanted to run and run fast but I held my ground. He stumbled over all of his words and his nervousness was wreaking havoc on my peace of mind. I needed him to just get on with it or let me be. No. It dragged on. My armpits begin to prick with nervousness and I begin to sweat in the oddest places. Not once did he say any words of a sexual nature except for the use of sex, one time. He only used it to insult my intelligence with saying sex is the least enjoyable thing in life. He also said a man would never ever love me. What? You think I’m dumb? Is that supposed to be a feeble attempt at thwarting from any interests in sex or the opposite sex? I couldn’t respect him after that. He didn’t know that I knew of his extra curricular activities but that was beside the point. I just stared at him with the blankest look and asked if he was done so I could go in my room. I left, sat on my bed and cried from pure embarrassment, then laughed at his mediocre attempt at trying to be slick…hysterically. My amateur, erotic, novelistic career ended that day.

He left the home when I was 18 and I was all the better for it. He wasn’t my dad anyway right? I didn’t care…until I begin to spread my little unused wings…

until my next entry. . .

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Looking at life through a shut window…I am longing for more


I have recently turned 33 years old this past April which has caused me to really look at my life thus far. I have developed a splenetic outlook, however minor at the moment. I can’t say I am at a place I thought I would be when I was younger. I am not the renowned author I thought I would have been, I am not the successful designer I thought I would been, and I don’t have the family life I thought I would of had. My vision was diverted somewhere along the way and I really have been pensive about this. I’m not saying that I’m not happy. That’s not it. I’m just not content with not following my passions and my dreams any longer. I have been complacent for the past few years and especially the past year and a half in that I haven’t traveled in a while, I haven’t made any new experiences for myself, and I haven’t changed my scenery. I need new scenery!

I don’t want to look back, when I’m 55 years old asking myself what did I do with my life. I don’t want to have to say, “I did nothing that I loved”. Right now, I feel like I am missing out on opportunities and new adventures. Like I’m stuck looking out of a shut in window instead of being the one outside enjoying the sun and the breeze. I am longing for life. Period.

I have been settling for a mundane existence joining the rat race along with everyone else and I am showing my daughters that is the way to be. I still don’t know how this happened when I was never ordinary, per se. I have always thought BIG so I should be living BIG. It isn’t about the finances, the fancy cars, the expensive clothes, or flashy jewelry. It’s about living life to the fullest, touching other’s lives, experiencing new adventures, seeing the world, and just allowing God to pour out his glory on me. He gave us all free will to create our world but most of us choose to waste it, dying in mediocrity. Scratch that! When did I lose the vision I had for so many years? I don’t know, but I see it again and it’s ON for real.

I decided to create a list of 10 things I want to accomplish or experience before I turn 34, on April 22, 2012. I have about 11 months and 12 days from today.

one of my pieces

1. Have 10 retails stores/boutiques carrying my jewelry
I seriously need to push my Purple Skies Jewelry Collection harder. Get Rich and Live Trying!

2. Finish my Poetry Book
I have seriously been procrastinating

3. Enroll in Dance Classes
One of my passions is dancing. I should go out there and learn other styles of dance I don’t already know

4. Take the Plunge-Skydiving!
I have been holding it back because no one wants to go with me but I am just going to have to do it on my own

5. Learn to play the Guitar
I keep saying I want to learn, now I need to just go learn

6. Move from Miami
Miami is beautiful and I will miss the oceans and the beaches. My time is up here. I need new scenery, new opportunities, a new place…I don’t know where just yet but I will start doing my research

7. Become a US Citizen
I have been holding if off, keeping my Panamanian Citizenship. Now it’s time to start pledging allegiance to the flag of the United States of America…

the bike I obsess over

8. Get my motorcycle license
Before I get the Ducati Superbike, I need to get the license squared away…and the outfit to go along with it lol. Female riders are super sexy!

9. Get a complete makeover
I need new scenery…and that includes me. I need a new look, new hair do, new style, new and fresh version of me


Turquoise waters of Hawaii

10. Go to Hawaii, just me and the girls
Take a mini vacay to Hawaii with the girls, roll around in some black sand, dance the Hula, swim with the dolphins and get pampered the whole time we’re there! Yes! (maybe I should add learning how to swim on my list as well)

As soon as everything is scratched off my list, I will create a new one. I feel a new excitement for the months ahead. Create your world, if you don’t, who will?…

What is your list?


~Raquel (Ms_RAQ)

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