Cougars, Seacows, Senior Discounts, and Beef Stew 

Due to the content of this particular post, I feel I should warn you that if you are easily offended by “TMI”, you probably should not venture any further than this paragraph. I am and always will be a very transparent person, especially when I believe strongly about something I feel others can relate to. With that being said, I beg of you, if you do not have a good sense of humor, just don't go any further. And now that I have that out of the way, I shall continue on....

I've been divorced now for four years and I gotta tell ya, while being single has it's advantages it's also very tough in the dating world for a woman in her....well, let's just say I've turned 39 several times. So many times in fact, my own mother and children are starting to accept that I'm 39 and holding. All through my 20's and even 30's I was content being married and being a mom and well, being the age I really was. But since my divorce, something has happened. I'm not sure "mid-life crisis" would be an accurate explanation, as “crisis” is such a strong word. But there has definitely been a shift in my way of thinking.

I like men. I enjoy viewing men, especially attractive men. Sounds shallow I know but hey, I'm being honest here. I was reprimanded once by an older lady when I was married for commenting on how attractive a guy was. My response to her, "Good grief! I'm married, not DEAD for crying out loud!" And just recently, I was approached by a lesbian who, when I was quite upfront with her and let her know, “I'm straight”, was quick to inform me, “Well, I have found that people just really don't know if they're absolutely straight or not.” Uuuuhhhmmm...yeah, I'm absolutely, positively, 100% sure - I like men. No doubt about it.

Now, the statement "I like men." might have some of you thinking, "Oh she's such a slut." or "Oh my! What a harlot!" Just let me clear something up right here, right now. I may be a LOT of things but slut and harlot? Nope! It's been four and a half years since I've even been properly kissed by a man, much less jumped in the sack with one. Yes, it's been a while, and I'm okay with that. I'm also okay with you knowing that, "it's been awhile" just to prove that going without sex is not at all deadly

As far as a type, I don't really have one. I like men of all ages that are clean, smell good, funny, have impeccable taste in music and even though they may appear older, are very young at heart. Which brings me to, you guessed it, younger men. Younger men are a whole 'nother ballgame for me, personally. Yes, I admit I like younger men. And maybe this attraction to younger men is the cause of the struggle with my current 39 and holding status, or maybe it's that I am continually irked by the fact that it's all fine and dandy and acceptable for a woman to date a man 20 years her senior but when she even considers a relationship with a man 20 years her junior, she's frowned upon like someone who has just recently acquired a rare case of the bubonic plague. Whatever, the reason, I just tend to be drawn in that particular direction. But a "cougar"? Hmmmm....I used to think maybe? Possibly? I might could pull that off. I may have the appearance of an older woman but on the inside I'm still anywhere between 25 and 35 so I find it easier to relate to younger guys. I feel like I'm a sort of cool, hip chick most of the time. But a "cougar"?

So let's explore the definition of a cougar: According to urbandictionary.com, a cougar is, "An older woman who frequents clubs in order to score with a much younger man. The cougar can be anyone from an overly surgically altered victim, to an absolute sad and bloated old horn-meister, to a real hottie or milf. Cougars are gaining in popularity -- particularly the true hotties -- as young men find not only a sexual high, but many times a chick with her shit together."

I have to chuckle a little as I read that again. Okay, I'm older and I do go out occasionally but most definitely not frequently and not to clubs and certainly not to “score” with a younger man. I'm most definitely not surgically enhanced, nor am I a "horn-meister", need I say it again? Four years without, and I still have a pulse. I don't consider myself a "true hottie" or a "milf", mind-blowingly good at sex, and I'm sure sad to say that I most assuredly do not have all my "shit together."

Case in point, I enjoy the occasional night out at a bar where I can find a good band playing but I think that's different than a club where lots of twerking and grinding and gyrating ensues. And surgically enhanced? Yeah right? Just last week at a bar, a friend made the comment, "Hey, the lead singer of the band told me he'd give me five dollars off a t-shirt if I'd show him my boobs!" I immediately responded, without hesitation, "I'll show him mine! Right after I scoop 'em up off the floor upon swift removal of my bra!" (okay, they're not that bad but you get the general point) Don't get me wrong y'all, I commend you for going under the knife to "enhance" yourself if that's what you do. You go, girl! But me? I just don't deal with pain well enough to put myself through that to attract a man....of any age. 

After doing my research and taking a long, reflective look at myself. I've decided "Seacow" is probably a better word to accurately describe me. And I don't mean that in a degrading, self-loathing way. I'm just being real here, people. I mean come on now, what man in his 20's is gonna want an older woman with a c-section pouch and stretch marks that are visible every time she removes her clothes? Although, I don't like it, and it's not pleasant to look at, it does remind me daily of the two gorgeous, fantastic blessings I gave birth to that brings me more joy than a big 'ol fat pig rolling around in the mud could ever experience. Or what about the wrinkles that have become so defined around my eyes and my mouth? Oh my goodness, those are just proof of the years and years of laughter and good tans and good times I've experienced in my "39" years. And those dreaded bat wings or otherwise known as the muscles that used to sit ON TOP of my arms. And the floppy belly that I just cannot seem to get toned, that wiggles and jiggles every time I make the slightest movement. Hmmmm...hmmm...I'm sure those are things that every 20 something-year-old guy dreams of experiencing with a "cougar". Never mind the fact that on any given day, I can burp or fart any man under the bus and sometimes, not even on purpose. Just another couple of things that become increasingly difficult to control as one starts to get older. And those pesky hemorrhoids that emerge from time to time? I die of laughter each time I think of exposing a younger guy to THAT little uncomfortable "inconvenience" of life and getting older.

I've played the conversation over in my head a hundred times: I get the text (cause you know, that's how 20 something-year-olds communicate these days), "Hey babe let's hook-up later tonight" I cringe at the thought of my response being, "Dude, I'm sorry. Can't tonight." His reply, "Why not babe??? I want you to teach me some new things I need a mind blowing experience 2-NITE!!!" I hesitate but me being honest, as I am at times, I go ahead and just tell it like it is, "Well, you see my little cub. I've been constipated for days and had to take a laxative. After a massive bowel movement, I now have a small case of hemorrhoids. But if you can hold off a day or so, I promise...I WILL blow your eager little mind!!!....(insert various emoticons here and please try and get over the fact that there's no punctuation in the cub's text to me. They don't use punctuation in their texts) How's that for a mind-blowing experience and lesson learned....on so many different levels?

I have come to realize these are many reasons that I do not classify as a cougar. Not to mention that I could not deal with the mental anguish of constantly comparing myself to the wrinkle-free, perfectly toned, perky-breasted 20 and 30 year old women that exist in our world today. I am just not cut out for that kind of pressure. And what about when you're in the check out line with your "cub" and instead of the the cashier politely asking for your ID to purchase alcohol, she politely asks if you would like your "Senior Discount". Oh hell no! Now that's where I'm drawing the line. I can deal with the saggy boobs, the c-section scars and stretch marks, wrinkles, bat wings, floppy belly, the excess, sometimes uncontrollable gas and even the occasional hemorrhoid after a bout with constipation, but don't you DARE ask me if I would like to use my "senior discount.” That offends me more than ANY of the above mentioned complications that come with aging! 

This past year, I have been asked that question more times than I would like to admit and even GIVEN the discount several times without even being asked. Just as recently as last week, I went to my friendly neighborhood Kroger and after checking out just tucked my receipt away in the console of the car. A couple of days later, I pull out said receipt and looked it over to see if I needed to save it for anything and what to my wandering eyes did appear? The 17th unasked for senior discount I've gotten this year! I was P-I-S-S-E-D to say the least. I wanted to take it all back and demand that they charge me full price!!!! Okay so maybe that was a little extreme and maybe  it is a mid-life crisis, after all.

At any rate, I must say I am coming to grips with the fact that I am probably closer to seacow material than I am cougar material and I'm okay with that. I also understand that after revealing some very personal and sensitive information about myself, I may never have another date again and I suppose I'll just have to be okay with that. But I personally think I'm beautiful in my own unique way, imperfections and all, and if and when the right guy comes along, he'll find me and whether he be 20 something or closer to my own age (whatever that may be at the time), he'll love me....sagginess, floppiness, gassiness, pesky hemorrhoids and all!

I will, however always believe the words to the old Ronnie McDowell song, “Older women...are beautiful lovers...” We may not be as easy on the eyes as the younger women are but we will always have one thing that a younger woman will never have on us, and that's experience in how to treat our men right, regardless of their age!

Of course, with all this talk of meat (cougars and seacows) and trips to the grocery store, I'm hungry so I'd like to leave with you with another original recipe:

Slow Simmer Beef Stew

3 lbs. stew beef, cut in small chunks
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. black pepper
4 tbsp. salted butter
32 oz. beef broth
1 large sweet onion, chopped
6 medium potatoes, diced
14 oz. can sliced carrots, (use fresh if you prefer)
6 oz. can tomato paste with basil, garlic and oregano
2 28 oz. cans crushed tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp. dried thyme
Lots and lots of sweet time



Cover stew beef with broth completely. Add a little water if needed or a little extra broth. Just make sure the meat is covered well. Add the butter, salt and pepper. Simmer on med. to medium-low heat for about three hours or until meat is fork tender. Now please, I beg you. Do not get in a hurry during this process. Let the meat simmer as long as it takes to get it good and tender. Who wants chewy, tough meat in their stew? Not me, I tell ya!


Add onions and potatoes and let those simmer for another 30 to 45 minutes. This should be enough time to also get the potatoes nice and tender, depending on how big or small you dice the potatoes. If you're using fresh carrots, this would also be the time to add those to the mix. If not, add the carrots, last.


Next, add the tomatoes, canned carrots, paste, garlic and thyme. Now here's the secret. Let that stew simmer as long as possible. This is a dish I like to start very early in the day to make sure it has plenty of time to simmer and let all those delicious flavors come together. The longer you can let it simmer, the better it's gonna taste!



Note: You can also add different spices if ya like. My family is used to this particular recipe so I don't dare change it up. It works for us so you make it work for you and your own.