The thought of bathing in a mikvah freaks me out.   I don’t feel it’s necessary to be judged from head to toe by a total stranger so that I can be allowed to fuck my husband after my monthly gift. I judge myself enough as it is. And if I ever feel the need to comb my pubic hair, I shall do it in the privacy of my own home.

Going to a mikvah was just one of the many religious requirements I would have had to adhere to in order to marry Alex. Others included keeping a kosher home and celebrating Shabbat.

Converting from a reform Jew to a modern orthodox Jew would have been a monumental decision and life change for me. So, to say I was concerned about going out on a date with a modern orthodox Russian Jew was an understatement.

But desperate times call for desperate measures so after 2 weeks of emails, texts and phone calls, I hopped in my car and drove to Astoria, where he worked, for our first date.

The drive from Long Island to Astoria took 42 minutes.

The date with Alex took 28 minutes.

We sat down in the coffee shop. He ordered a tea. I ordered a coffee. He drank his tea in 3 gulps forcing me to drink my coffee in 3 gulps. He told me he was starving and wanted to go home to eat dinner.

As I walked to my car my feelings were hurt, the roof of my mouth was gone and I was thoroughly pissed that it took me more time to drive to the date than the actual date itself.

You would think after winning the world record for “Shortest Date Ever” that I wouldn’t hear from Alex again.  But then he called me while I was driving and we stayed on the phone until we both got home.

We ended the call so that he could eat his (Kosher) dinner and although totally confused by the entire encounter, I agreed to Skype with him later that night.

Alex:  [watching TV]  Hey.

WinterInNYC: Hey.

Alex: [watching TV]

WinterInNYC: Whatcha doing?

Alex: [watching TV] Watching TV.

WinterInNYC: Can you look me?

Alex: [watching TV] Yeah

WinterInNYC: So what’s up?

Alex[watching TV]  Show me your tits.

WinterInNYC: Excuse me?

Alex: [watching TV]  Take your shirt off. Show me your tits.

WinterInNYC: No! I’m not doing that.

Alex: [watching TV] OK, I’m gonna go watch TV.

WinterInNYC: OK.

I must have been sick the day they taught the commandments in Hebrew School.

Apparently #11 was:



heart book

Hey you…

I realized today that I’m a lucky girl.

After all of the hurt and disappointment I’m still willing to open my heart, get back out there and find you.

I still want you. I know you are amazing….so that helps.

Nights like tonight when all I want to do is hide under the covers and feel sorry for myself that another relationship has come and gone…what keeps me going is you.

You will see when we meet that all of my hurt has made me the woman I am today. A woman that can stand on her own two feet. Who doesn’t need a man…but who wants one. And you are the type of man who knows how different the two are.

You will see when we meet that all of my disappointment has allowed me to truly appreciate the small things in life. I will never take our love for granted.

When you walk into my home that took me 34 years to buy, you will look around and tell me how beautiful it is. My home will not overwhelm you. My home will not intimidate you. At some point you will notice that the blue jelly beans I keep in my living room for my niece and nephew to snack on, match my accent pillows…on purpose of course…and you will smile. You will smile because you have just realized that you met a woman who is capable of making a beautiful home for you one day.

Once we start dating you will see that I work a lot. There are many nights of working late where I don’t walk in the door until after 10pm. You may miss me some of those nights and wish we could grab dinner instead. But you will remember that my career is important to me. It has brought great friends into my life. It has afforded me the ability to buy my own home, travel the world and be as generous as I can to those I love. You won’t be worried about whether or not I will have the time to build a family because of course I will. We will figure it out…I have faith.

I hope you have the opportunity to meet Molly. She has been a part of my life for the past 12 years. She’s just like me. She needs a little bit of time to get to know someone. You can’t rush her. Forcing her to play scares her. But if you show her that you are sweet and kind and good she will eventually give you her love….which is unconditional. I know you will love her and be patient with her. She’s turning 12 next June…. so hurry.

I recently found out that I snore. Didn’t know that I did. No one ever told me that I had before. I know you won’t mind. I know that you won’t repeatedly wake me to tell me that I’m snoring and then tell me that it doesn’t bother you but then proceed to tell me that if I don’t stop you’re going to sleep on the couch.   I’ll wear Breathe Right Strips for you and you will tell me how cute I look.

When I’m sick you will take care of me.  When I’m sick you will ask me how I am and what you can do to help me feel better. You won’t ask for a back-rub when I’m lying in bed shivering. You won’t be a taker.

I’m not perfect. You’re not perfect. But together we will be perfect.

I’m not settling. You are worth the wait…. and so am I!

I’m a beautiful, intelligent, independent, fun, kind-hearted woman who has a lot to offer and a lot of love to give.

Maybe I’ll find you….or maybe you’ll find me.

But don’t worry babe… will happen.

untitledAfter my disappointing cruise and failure to meet any normal guys online, I decided to take a break from dating. I deactivated all 3 of my online dating accounts and welcomed back a simpler time when checking my email was about receiving coupons and sale notices from my favorite department stores. I would stop holding my breath waiting for a notification that I had received a wink, a flirt, an email or an instant message.

So I stopped.

And I felt great! My confidence was coming back. I was spending time with my girlfriends on the weekends. I was shopping like a maniac decorating my newly purchased home. I was reading again. I was back to doing the things that made me happy. And it was working.   I was happy.

And then one day I received a friend request from a guy from my past who I had reservations about for a plethora of reasons but who convinced me to go out on a date with him after two weeks of texting and getting to know each other.

So over sushi and sake one Friday night we had our first date. We had our first kiss. And instead of heading our separate ways at midnight, he decided to join me on a weekend get-away I had previously planned with my family.

He met my family. We held hands. We snuggled in bed with no expectations. He showered me with compliments. We had an amazing time together.

But driving home I knew I was in trouble. Our amazing first date had lasted 36 hours and a few minutes after dropping him off….

I missed him.

Life Saver

Although I had sworn off Israeli men I went against my better judgment when a beautiful 23-year-old Israeli keep looking at my JDate profile. For weeks, every few days, he appeared in my “Members that have viewed you” section.

After 10 views I finally wrote him an email: “You are super cute and super young but I just had to say hello!”

This email led to a delightful friends with benefits situation…my first actually and I must say I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

After talking for about 2 months and hanging out a handful of times, I received a text from him telling me that he wanted to end our relationship. I was a tad disappointed but I wasn’t expecting anything out of the “relationship” other than some fun (as my friend Wendy always tells me, “You have to clean the cobwebs out every once in awhile!”) but I was hurt when he told me that he was heading back to Israel in a month and didn’t want to keep in touch.

This I didn’t get. What’s the big deal with being friends with someone on Facebook?

Take me and my Turkish Delight for example. We spent 4 wonderful hours together and we still keep in touch through Facebook and I met him over a year and a half ago…and he lives on a cruise ship for Christ’s sake!.

So after deleting the Israeli from my phone, I opened up Facebook Messenger to say hello to my Turkish Delight and tell him that I still thought he was a great guy!

Facebook Messenger Chat:

WinterInNYC: Hey! Just wanted to say hello and see how u were.
Turkish Delight: Thanks babe all good working still on the ship.
WinterInNYC: Having fun?
Turkish Delight: Not much 😦 Same old thing. How are you?
WinterInNYC: Bored. I need a vacation. Trying to plan something for the summer.
Turkish Delight: Come here. Come on my ship.
WinterInNYC: Eh. Bad cruise experience…I think I’d rather lay on a beach somewhere.
Turkish Delight: Come down here for a cruise WinterInNYC. You will have a great vacation. Promise!
WinterInNYC: We haven’t seen each other in 1.5 years!
Turkish Delight: Yup! Come! Be my guest! I never forgot our kiss!
WinterInNYC: 🙂 It was a good kiss!

2 days later…..

WinterInNYC: I want to visit.
Turkish Delight: You can babe. Whenever you want. You will be my guest.

4 days later…..

WinterInNYC: Are you sure you want a visitor?
Turkish Delight: I like you. You are a nice girl and you need a vacation. I am here. I will take care of you.
WinterInNYC: I’m nervous.
Turkish Delight: Babe its up to you but if you want to feel happy and if you want me to take care of you come.
WinterInNYC: I want to see you its just scary!
Turkish Delight: Babe this is a huge ship. There are many things to do other than me!
WinterInNYC: Very funny!
Turkish Delight: I will have lots of time to spend with you. Come.

2 days later….

Turkish Delight: Hi babe! What’s up? Are you coming?
WinterInNYC: Hey! Haven’t made up my mind yet….
Turkish Delight: Ok let me know.

1 day later….

WinterInNYC: I’m booked!
Turkish Delight: Awesome!!!

Holy fuck! Now what?!?

The past few months a lot of the men I have blogged about have unexpectedly popped back into my life! So here are a few updates on some of my mistakes men:

If It Has Tits Or Tires It’s Gonna Cost You _ _ _ _ _!

After countless Google searches I finally figured out Casey’s last name, which led me to his Facebook page. I was dying to “friend” him but worried he would think I’m a psychotic stalker who can’t take a hint….

But then I thought, who the fuck cares what he thinks about me!

Two weeks after my friend request Casey surprisingly accepted and sent me a message. We chatted through Facebook pretty sporadically. I didn’t bring up the weekend he stood me up or the fact that he deserved to have his balls bitten off by a wild bear. What was the point?

Last week I messaged him letting him know that I was headed back to PA for the weekend. I joked that if he saw my car he should wave….or hide!

Casey responsed by suggesting we get together. Wait! What?

Although every cell in my body told me not to make plans with him….I really really really wanted to see him! 90% because I knew I’d get a good blog story out of it. The other 10%…well because he’s fucking hot!

Saturday afternoon….

Casey: Hey what’s up! You having fun?
WinterInNYC: I am! Went to a shooting range – shot a 9mm and a 38 special!
Casey: Nice
WinterInNYC: How r u?
Casey: I’m good
WinterInNYC: Wanna grab a drink?
Casey: Would. But my car is broke, goes in the garage Monday and don’t have money to blow
WinterInNYC: No worries
Casey: Sorry

At least he apologized…this time!

If A Penis Enters Your Vagina, But You Don’t Feel It, Does It _ _ _ _ _?

One night while browsing on Jdate I received a flirt from the 24 year old one night-stand (now 25). I wrote back to the flirt “Do you think you are funny?” He then texted me begging me to accept his apology and let him make it up to me by taking me out.

I had NO interest in starting anything up with him again considering that I had the worst sex of my life with him….BUT….I was curious to find out what happened and why he stopped talking to me.

So I asked him why he had ignored my texts and he told me that he was going through a rough time at home at the time. Supposedly his father had lost his job and it was putting a strain on the family.

Hold on…your dad got laid off from work and as a result you couldn’t/wouldn’t answer a text from a woman you had your dick inside of 24 hours earlier?

Although I had told him that I wasn’t interested in starting anything up again…he kept texting me and asking to take me out.

I finally told him that I would consider meeting him out for a drink if he was truthful with me about why he ignored me those many months ago.

That finally got him to stop texting!

And the grand finale of comebacks…….

My 7-Day All Inclusive Cruise To _ _ _ _. (Part 1)

My 7-Day All Inclusive Cruise to _ _ _ _. (Part 2)

A Million _ _ _ _ _ And I Recognized Yours!

This past Wednesday night I was woken up by a text at 11:58pm….

Shithead: How’s ___________? Congrats on the new job

I didn’t respond.

It felt really good.

I’m fishing. I’ve been fishing. I’ve been fishing my entire life. I’m sitting in the same fancy boat with my bedazzled rod and my yummy bait and I’m waiting…for years I’ve been waiting. I’m pretending that fishing is fun. I won’t admit that I’m losing hope. I won’t admit that my patience is wearing thin. I’m still waiting for a healthy delicious attractive fish to come along and get hooked but instead I wind up (sea)sick and (sun)burned with smelly fingers and I’m alone because I had to throw back the crap fish I did catch that werent fit for human consumption.

My last two rejects catches….

Name: Steve
Location: Queens
Age: 34
Employment: Insurance Adjuster

Steve: What do you do?
WinterInNYC: I’m a __________ __________ in the city.
Steve: Ouch
WinterInNYC: Yeah
Steve: Long commute 😦
WinterInNYC: Its ok. 45 min on the train.
Steve: That’s not that awful, you must get a bunch of reading done
WinterInNYC: I do! Do you read books?
Steve: Mostly magazines. U? 50 shades? Lol
WinterInNYC: I read a lot – and yes I’ve read 50 but it’s not my normal type of read
Steve: Uh huh sure lol
WinterInNYC: 😛
Steve: Bad girl! I like it
WinterInNYC: Why does that make me bad?
Steve: I hear its naughty
WinterInNYC: Read it and find out.
Steve: That book may be a little much for my virgin eyes and ears

I didn’t feel the need to find out if Steve really was a virgin. But I knew that if my reading of 50 Shades of Grey made me a “bad girl” in Steve’s eyes then one perusal of the contents of my night table would result in Steve cumming in his panties or crapping them (maybe both…at the same time).


Name: Frank
Location: Long Beach
Age: 37
Employment: Electrician

Frank: Can I ask you a personal question?
WinterInNYC: Ok
Frank: I better not u might get mad 😦
WinterInNYC: Might as well ask now that you brought it up!
Frank: Do u wear thongs or g-strings?
WinterInNYC: Strippers wear g-strings – is that what ur looking for?
Frank: Not only strippers wear g-strings silly guess u wear grandma undies lol
Frank: I guess u aren’t interested I will delete your number

This time…I have no words.


The 1st guy I went on a date with after Matt and I broke up was a guy named Jason who sold copiers.

First date was at a local Spanish restaurant where we sat at the bar drinking sangria.

After 3.5 years of sitting at sports bars watching my boyfriend down pitcher after pitcher of Guinness, not giving a shit that I wasn’t a bar person, beer person, or sports person, I found the date enjoyable.

After a few hours of drinking and getting to know each other, Jason and I left and started walking home. Right before we parted ways, Jason stopped me on the sidewalk, pushed me up against a building and started kissing me.

Now this should have been a super hot/romantic moment for me except it wasn’t because Jason was the worst kisser I had ever met! Jason shoved his tongue deep into my mouth and then just left it there. His thick wet limp tongue just sat in my mouth not moving and the only way for me to get it out of my mouth was to move my head away from his. Twice during a 60 second kiss I had to jerk my head away or risk feeding him my digested sangria like a mommy bird feeds her chicks.

I thanked Jason for a nice date and headed home.

Jason texted me the next day and asked if he could make me dinner the following night. Hoping the kissing would get better (I mean it couldn’t possibly get any worse), I agreed.

So on one of the hottest days of the year (I think it was 102 in the city that day) I walked to Jason’s apartment. Arriving promptly at 7pm with severe swamp crotch, I entered Jason’s apartment and couldn’t believe that a guy who lived in such a dump, would invite a girl over so early in the dating process, if he was looking to impress.

Our romantic dinner was served on this…

TV Tray

After dinner Jason didn’t waste any time trying to make out with me and once again I had to fight off my gag reflex. He truly was the worst kisser I had ever encountered.

I finally faked a yawn (it was 8:30pm) and told him that I had to get home since I had work the next day.

I sent a nice text the following morning, thanking him for dinner but admitted that I wasn’t ready to start dating yet. A lie obviously, but if I was being honest I would have texted something along the lines of: “Thanks for dinner but I would rather lick the sweaty balls of my cab driver who drove me home last night than kiss you ever again.”

That was 1.5 years ago.

Driving up to Vermont last week:

WinterInNYC: How was that date you went on a few weeks ago?

Dr. Habibi: Eh…the guy was ok looking and the date was going well but then he kissed me and it was horrible!

WinterInNYC: Ugh! That’s the worst.

Dr. Habibi: I even let him try again later in the evening thinking it would get better and it didn’t!

WinterInNYC: I’ve been there my friend, I’ve been there!

Dr. Habibi: It’s so disappointing…no sparks at all! And these guys I’m meeting on Jdate have horrible jobs. Some are even unemployed. It’s so frustrating!

WinterInNYC: Hello! I dated a barista!

Dr. Habibi: I know. I know. The bad kisser sold copiers!


I was extremely depressed and lonely after Brian broke up with me. I remember coming home from work the first few weeks after the break-up and just sitting on my couch, staring at the 4 walls and wiping away tears that were running down my face.

I decided that I needed to take my mind off of my heartache so I started applying for a part-time job. Somewhere I could work after my full-time job during the week and also on the weekends. I didn’t need the money but I did need to get out of my apartment, take my mind off of my ex, stop logging onto Jdate to see if he was shopping around for someone prettier or thinner or smarter, stop feeling sorry for myself and hopefully meet some new people.

So I started working at a bookstore.

Which is where I met Charlie and his gigantic cock.

Charlie was a fellow bookseller who asked me out pretty randomly one night before our shift ended. I didn’t know much about him but agreed to the date since he was decent looking, extremely tall (6’4″) and loved to read.

I found out on our first date that Charlie was born in Utah, which is apparently where cocks gone wild are bred.

Charlie had to be close to 12”. It was HUGE. It was long and thick and frankly pretty fucking scary to a girl who had a vagina that was extremely comfortable with a 5” dick inside of it. 6” = Great. 7” = Fabulous. 8” = Oh thank you Jesus! But 12”??? Really? I was in shock! I was excited! I was moving to Utah!

I like to have sex…A LOT! But I quickly learned that a lot of sex with a great big cock severely interfered with my bedroom plans unfortunately.

This was what a fly on my apartment wall would have heard me say on a typical weekend while I attemped to fuck Charlie:

Friday Night – “Just go slow in the beginning, I need to get used to you.”
Saturday Morning – “Ow! Are you using enough lube? It fucking hurts!”
Saturday Night – “Can you please just cum already? I can’t take much more of this!”
Sunday Morning – “Holy fuck! I’m rubbed raw! Get out of me now! NOW!”
Sunday Night – “Can you please just jerk off in the shower?”

This went on for 7 months.

The worst part about his monster cock was that the whole time we dated I kept worrying that he was ruining my vagina. My tight, never had a baby, performed kegle exercises every day since I was 18 years old vagina, was being stretched out and permanently damaged and I’d become some loose fuck hole tampons would fall out of and no normal sized penis could enjoy.

I’m happy to share that my vagina survived this relationship, as per the 3 losers I slept with after him.

But in the end, there are just some dicks that are too big to handle, pun intended.

I used to swallow. I used to swallow my boyfriend’s cum with such eagerness and genuine pleasure that you would have thought he was spewing out a magical serum that would have either made my double chin disappear, my nose shrink or turn my hair permanently straight.

I would have used it as hair conditioner. I would have brushed my teeth with it. Fuck, I would have spread it on an everything bagel and topped it off with some lox if it meant keeping him.

Why? Because I was infatuated with him, that’s why! Besides the fact that I was ridiculously attracted to Ryan, he was also the first guy I loved and I would have done anything to make him see that I was the best girlfriend he could ever hope for. My friends had told me that swallowing vs. spitting really turned a guy on, therefore I was swallowing…and I was swallowing hard and often.

The first time I swallowed I thought to myself, “Not bad.”

I learned to read his body movements and his groans to figure out when he was getting ready to shoot his load and as the ending neared I would engulf him entirely (us blow job queens call this “deep-throating”) and let him paint my tonsils with his liquid manhood. This maneuver is key, if you don’t like the taste of cum, but I didn’t really mind it, he tasted fine.

Although I tried to prove to my first love usually 2 – 3 times a day that I was by far the best, most amazing blow job queen of all time and that if he ever left me he would never, could never find another women who could make him feel the way he did when his hard dick was inside of my moist mouth, he broke up with me when I left for college.

Since that time, I spit. Which is still pretty enjoyable for the guy since he doesn’t have to pull out and ruin the moment by shooting into a tissue or onto his stomach. But, I don’t swallow anymore. I just haven’t been with a guy since Ryan who’s worth the calorie count. So they cum, I spit and all is right with the world.

Until I met Jeremy, the premature ejaculating anorexic barista. Jeremy’s cum was vile. Jeremy’s cum was so vile that after he came, the inside of my mouth and my tongue started to tingle and burn. Normally a quick spit into a tissue or nearby sink is sufficient but with Jeremy’s spew, after spitting into the sink I had to gargle with Listerine and then vigorously rub my tongue back and forth on the bath towel trying to scrape off his dead children as quickly as possible. If I hadn’t been naked I would have been tempted to search for my toolbox in the hallway closet and grab some low-grade sandpaper.

What the fuck did he eat that day???

Jeremy claimed to be a vegetarian, strived to be a vegan but confused me by eating meat on occasion, so I don’t really know what his diet was like.

But whatever he ate that day he absolutely washed it down with a tall glass of Nasty made with 2 parts bleach, 2 parts sour milk and 1 part battery acid.

By the way guys, if you ask a girl, “Do I taste ok?” and she responds with “Mhmm.” She’s lying.

Go out and buy yourself some pineapples or just be a gentleman and give her a facial instead.

We all have our dating check-lists.

A list of must-haves we hope to find in our significant other. An ever-changing list of qualities we think we need in order to fall in love and be happy. As we grow-up, learn from past relationships, love and hurt we add to and delete from this list.

Recently however, I’ve noticed that my must-haves have been seriously altered resulting in me meeting men that I would never want to date. A combination of desperation and the sound of a ticking clock, my standards have become seriously worrisome.

For example….

Tall, weathly and handsome has been downgraded to taller than me, can pay his bills and kissing him doesn’t make me gag.

Goob job, good lover and good sense of humor has been reduced to has a job, doesn’t ejaculate when the wind blows the right way and doesn’t tell me Holocaust jokes.

Jewish, generous and lives alone has been revised to he doesn’t check for horns when we first meet, pays for at least the 1st date and doesn’t live with his mother.

Am I that desperate to have a boyfriend that I’m willing to throw away my idea of the perfect man? Or, have I just been too picky for 33 years?

So I broadened my dating pool….

I didn’t end things when I found out he had a really shitty job.
I didn’t end things when I found out that he had a really crappy car.
I didn’t end things when I found out that he lived at home with his mother.
I didn’t end things when I found out that he weighed 40lbs. less than me.
I didn’t end things when I found out that I could never wear heels around him.
I didn’t end things when I found out that he didn’t have a lot of money.
I didn’t end things when I found out that he was a premature ejaculator.
I didn’t end things when I found out that he wore a size Small.
I didn’t end things when I found out that he considered me an animal hater.
I didn’t end things when I found out that he ate sausage…although he was a vegetarian.
I didn’t end things when I found out that the only way he could get me off was by using my vibrator.
I didn’t end things when I found out that he would refuse to vaccinate his children.
I didn’t end things when I found out that the he didn’t believe in circumcision.
I didn’t end things when I found out that he thought getting the flu shot made me an idiot.

But in the end, HE ended things with ME.

2014 – I’m not going to continue to lower my standards in the hopes of meeting a man. My numerous horrible would rather stab my eyes out than go on more bad blind dates only confirms that looking too much outside of the box doesn’t work for me.

Honestly, for now I’d rather be alone…with my vibrator, anal plugs and porn.

Can you blame me?