"An evil deed, when done,
doesn't—like ready milk—
come out right away.
It follows the fool,
smoldering
like a fire
hidden in ashes."

-Dhammapada, 5, translated by Thanissaro Bhikkhu.

mmmmmm......nothing like the taste of your own blood

I needed to have a wisdom tooth pulled. Anyone who knows me should know that this is a terror inspiring deal for me. The dentist offered me nitrous and valium. But to do that I would need to get a ride. I decide I don't want a ride. Cause I am a stubborn bitch. And apparently I like to torture myself. But that wasn't my reason. I decided I wanted to try a new way to deal with stress, something I hadn't tried before; bravery. So what the hell.

I go in, I'm feeling ok, a little nervous. It comes time for the novacaine (which I've never had before, and I am bad with needles) and I start to shaking. One two shots....the dentist goes for the next set and I'm thinking it won't hurt.....but it does...three four....and I'm shaking so hard I'm now biting the inside of my own cheeks with my jaw chattering. My legs are practically convulsing. I find this embarrassing but I'm determined to be brave....or at least some distant relative of brave.
Maybe the inbred cousin of brave?

At any rate, he goes for another set of shots just to be damn sure I won't feel it (which I appreciate) and after five six, I am looking like a damn seizure. He waits....checks to make sure it's numb (it is) and begins pulling out my tooth.

No, it didn't hurt. Not at all. It was the yanking crunchy sound that totally flipped me out. He stopped and asked if I was ok and I started in to BAWLING. I tried to stop, but I was shaking so hard I could barely breathe. He asked if it hurt and I sobbed, "No! It's just so GROSS! I want you to stop! I don't want you to do that anymore!" I felt like a little kid, just bawling my eyes out. I could taste blood so I know he already had it partway out. I said, "I know you have to finish...oh God I don't want you to do that anymore but I know you have to...."
So I pull myself back together and he yanks it out. There is no pain. Really. Just one totally traumatized freaked out grown woman sobbing in a dentists chair.
Once they convince me he is done, I start calming down. The nurse tells me she's making a note in my file (IN MY PERMANENT RECORD!!! MWAA HAA HAAA) that I am not allowed to have any more teeth pulled without massive amounts of valium.
I agree with her.
On my way out to the checkout, I see the rolls of kid stickers and yank off one for my son. I come around the corner and the dentist and nurses are waiting (its 5, they want to go home!) and I shake it at them menacingly and say, "I'm taking this damn sticker." They all burst out laughing. I manage a lopsided grin at them and go home.

I also have my tooth. I pick up my son and I show him.
I tell him the tooth fairy better pay up. He asks me how much it costs to have my tooth pulled and I tell him. He says she should at least give me that much under my pillow, because "That's only fair. She should give you payback! MAN! I LOVE payback!"
I laugh and thank him for the laugh.
The Tooth Fairy had better pay up.

I would personally like to thank the two strapping black men walking up the street this morning who yelled, "DAMN! LOOKING GOOD BABY!" at me when I got out of my truck. After losing all that weight, I was worried maybe my ass shrunk because I haven't had a single black guy come on to me in a while.
God bless black men, who love ass and seem utterly unconcerned with my chest (or lack thereof). My X was always sure I would run off with a black guy until I explained it's just that I appreciate them for appreciating what I DO have.
White guys seem too concerned with tits. Tits I don't have. Ass I do.
May God bless the ass loving men of the world.

And by the way, I had the most BEAUTIFUL day.
Sunny, 70's, just gorgeous.

Yah, yah it's spring to the rest of you.
But me? I've had hideous hellish allergies for years. I finally had them fixed with NAET therapy (go look it up online). I couldn't even breath outside without my throat starting to close up. You can read my archives to hear me rant about it.
Suffice to say I've not had the luxury of having the windows open in years.

Today?
(Deep happy sigh)
Today?
I laid out on the back porch with my son for hours playing board games. We went to the park. We opened all the windows in the house up. The breeze blew in.
IT WAS HEAVEN.

It was absolutely heaven.

Can I make a confession here?

Ever since seeing the SNL with Justin Timberlake as the host, I've had the serious hots for him.
Oh, he was SOOOOOOO DAMN FUNNY!
That omelet costume! The big old Mickey Mouse looking hands! And he never once looked embarrassed. That kind of confidence is sooooooo incredibly sexy!

Just don't tell anyone, ok?

Been thinking about the X today.
What a shocker, uh?

Anyway, it's very slowly dawning on me that he's not trying to hold on. I mean, when we first discussed the whole potential living apart thing, he was so sad and so upset and cried me a river about how he would do anything to win me back and how much he loved me and GOD was there ANYTHING he could do to fix it all and make it all better?

Now?

He calls, yah. But our conversations are getting forced, bland, and awkward.
Besides all that, I really honestly (and delusionally) expected him to actually TRY. I really thought he would put forth some kind of effort to win me over.

Nope.

Nothing.

And I think about how he used to tell me (and sometimes still does) that he was going to let me go because he could never make me happy. How I would be happier with someone else, and he just wants to see me happy.

(lips pursed)
Not the first guy to tell me this.

So I have to wonder WTF? Am I incapable to make this decision myself? Am I so blind that the men I date can see I'm miserable even if I can't? I mean, I feel like, Hello? Can I decide that for myself? What, do you think I'm too stupid to decide if I want to be with you or not? It sounds like a crock of fucking shit to me, like the old "It's not you; it's me" line.
You're dumping me for MY benefit?

What kind of shit is that supposed to be?

And if it IS true, what the hell does that say about ME?
I need to give this some serious thought.

There's some potential good looking guys that live in my apartment complex. One moved in downstairs. And although I have yet to get a good look at his face, I keep trying. My kitchen window overlooks the parking lot so I've been spending a lot of time washing dishes, hoping to catch him walking out so I can scope him out. No no, I don't need any hot neighbor action. But nearby eye candy is always nice.
At any rate, I was doing the dishes this afternoon and noticing his car was there, then I decide to grab some cheese and crackers. I turn to the cupboards then the fridge and hear a car start up. I look outside and damn it all if it wasn't him (can't see him with the glare on the windshield). Argh! What did he do, run?

So I shall be ever alert, people! I shall be vigilant! And DAMN, are my dishes are clean!

"Happiness and suffering come from your own mind, not from outside. Your own mind is the cause of happiness; your own mind is the cause of suffering. To obtain happiness and pacify suffering, you have to work within your own mind."
-Lama Zopa Rinpoche, "The Door To Satisfaction"

You know, I really love Weird Al.
No matter how seriously upset I am about relationship bullshit, I can listen to "I'm So Sick Of You" and "Since You've Been Gone" and it puts it all back in perspective.

Just finished watching the new Star Wars Clone Wars episode. Very exciting. Had to share it with someone, so I called up the X, who is also a Star Wars geekazoid. I knew he would understand my thrill.
No answer.

It's Friday night.
I guess he went out.

And suddenly I felt awfully, horribly alone.

Why?
Why would I give a shit? Who gives a crap what the fucknut does?
I do. And I think I know why. I just want him to stay attached. I'm not ready to date yet, but some day I will be. And when I am, I want him to feel just as REPLACED as I did. I want to dish it back. I want revenge.

I am not proud of this motivation, but there it is.

Appointment with my shrink today. I tell her about how my friends think I'm too hard on myself and we talk about that for quite a while.
So now I have homework- I have to make a list of all my positive qualities. I also have to keep a notebook with me and keep a running tally of all the positive things I do during the day (I do a mental list of the negatives normally).

(eyes rolling)

Ok, ok, ok.
You guys win.
I feel like a dork, though.

hoooo boooooy
So I go to pick my son up today. There is some really well built cute guy trying to teach my son to skateboard. (Me raising eyebrow) Very interesting, this is, methinks. So I go over to get my son and Mr. Cute Guy is all smiles, very friendly. I talk to him for a few minutes, and he tells me that skateboarding is a great sport for kids to learn. He's been skating since he was 8, he says, and he's 16 now. (I take few steps back.) He says it's a great way to spread the word of the gospel (I step back some more).
People, it is not ok for a 16 year old boy to look like that.
All I could think of while he was talking about skating was all the very unChristian things I could do to him....

I mean, should one feel guilt about having thoughts before knowing Super Skateboarding Christian Guy isn't even legal?
Ok, and afterward, too.

I cringe.

feel free to smack the shit out of these two dumbasses when you see them

very nice.

Jacko in future

I have made a medical discovery:

the antibiotic ERYTHROMYCIN is made from evil. It is the work of the devil. This shit is of Satan. Do not consume it, unless you too would like to call an ambulance at 3 am and have the ambulance guys tell you that the fact you feel like you're in labor is actually a pretty standard response to the evil devil pill. 16 hours after taking the last one, I am still in pain. Clearly the work of the devil.


Subsequently,
I have also discovered a fabulous way to poison the people you hate.
And I have a full bottle of it, should anyone need some.

"When you're following an angel, it doesn't mean you have to throw your body off a building..."
-They Might Be Giants (She's An Angel)

Much better- had to readjust the attitude. (Cookies and hip hop, who knows, it works.)

Ok, so I had great night sleeping. My friend Sara sent me these fabulous pink silk pajamas (thank you Victoria Secrets!) and I think every time I moved in my sleep it made me happy.
I had this dream this morning about being at an amusement park with some hunky guy who worshipped the ground I walked on. I wasn't very interested, honestly, until I saw a picture he had taken of me. I looked beautiful. For whatever reason, I was very very surprised by that. He then showed me a few other pictures he had taken of me, and in all of them I looked gorgeous, happy, beautiful....like, I had this expression on my face in every picture like an ecstatic kid. No worry, no stress, no judgement, no pain. And it blew my mind. I realized I was seeing me how HE sees me, and suddenly I was interested. I wanted to be around him, it was like therapy, it was like heaven, to be able to see me as someone who adores me does, not as I see myself.
Have I always been this hard on myself? Or is this because my X eventually treated me as a piece of furniture? I mean, he used to adore me and tell me how much he appreciated me- then the sparkle wore off I guess (or the dumb ass lost his mind). But I wonder, when did I start buying in to his view? Because apparently I did. Or maybe I've always been this way?
(Denny, can you tell me? You've known me long enough.) (later: Denny says yes, I've always been this way.)

Which brings me to another matter, related.

While IMing with Denny recently, he wrote something about how "thats one of the things I love about you" and of course I bit that hook and asked what were the other things? He said it would be a shorter list to list the things he didn't like....I of course, bit that hook too because I am introspective....and getting someone else's opinion about what's wrong with me is always useful and valuable.
So I ask him what it is about me he doesn't like? And after a pause, he says, "There's just one thing...how hard you are on yourself. You beat yourself up. You need to stop."

Hmmmmm.

I figure Denny loves me too much and is just blinded and doesn't see my overwhelming faults.

So last night I am thanking Sara for my fabulous new PJ's and I tell her about the conversation with Denny. And when I get to the part about what it is he doesn't like about me, she interrupts and says, " You're too hard on yourself!!!" and I am flabbergasted, utterly. I say, "That's exactly what he said!" And she says, "Well, YAH..." (like, DUH! as if this is obvious) and she tells me how wonderful I am, and says, "There is no man in this world who is too good for you! Say it!" and I laugh. She sternly says, "SAY IT." I realize she is serious. So I tell her I don't believe it, but if it will make her feel better I'll say it. I do, with total lack of conviction (which she points out). I tell her I've been thinking that I don't date nice guys. At least, the ones that worship the ground I walk on, I can't deal with. I think they're obviously insane, what? Are they unable to see the truth? Hello?
Yes, I am aware this means I have some serious self esteem issues here.
I've dated a few men who really appreciated me. And it freaked me out.
Now I'm pissed off because I'm not appreciated?

Then this dream overnight.

(Leaned back in my chair and thinking)
I have a lot of stuff to forgive myself for.
I never have. I think I've just stuffed it into a closet in my head and tried to shove the door closed. And that door ain't closing anymore. The guilt and shame and regret is starting to seriously reek. I hadn't really noticed.

There are very few things that other people would consider that bad. For me, it's mostly a matter of doing things I should have KNOWN better. I judge myself harshly for my mistakes. Like my X. I knew damn well when we met that he was an alcoholic. I knew better! I never should have given him the time of day. Why the hell did I even jump into that mess?

Before I met him, I had made a list. A list of all the things I wanted in a person to love. He fit everything (mostly) except for one. That one?

VERY limited drug/alcohol use.

And what caused all the fights we ever had?
The one thing I compromised on.
Coincidence? I think not.

Oh, I know, the Stupid Girl. But think about it. If he wasn't a drinker, he wouldn't have gone to the bar with her nearly every night, now would he? He wouldn't have had that as an excuse ("We're just drinking beer after work! It's no big deal!"). He would have been home, like us non drinkers are. We never would have fought about him hanging out with her too much. He wouldn't have been so pissed off about us fighting that he would rather be at the bar. He would have been home appreciating what he had, instead of drunkenly mistaking this girls attention as a band aid for his depression.

Back to the subject at hand...

I've been thinking I need to spend time with people who see me as I need to see me.
Even if I think they're nuts. Maybe they aren't nuts. Maybe they're right, and I am a great person. I mean, I seem to be the minority here. So it's possible.
I need to stay the hell away from people who feed into my insecurity.
Which means the assholes I've dated are no longer an option.
That changes everything.

I feel like I'm staring down a long highway and don't know where it leads. But it's time to start walking.

I was sitting here feeling ok till I got an e-mail from the X's mom. I love her, so that's not the problem. I started writing back, then realized I had nothing nice to say, nothing cheerful, nothing optimistic.
It made me realize how well I'm covering up my misery. She's not someone I can bullshit at all, so that wall fell down. Then I realized I feel like crap and just want to crawl back into bed and the whole world can go to hell.

Hmmmm.

Still fried. Trying to come up with some witty thing to write, but nada. Well, there's lots I'm thinking about....just don't give enough of a shit to sit here and type.
~sigh~

blah blah blah
I'm so burned out about it all.
I need to refresh me.

Happy St. Pattys Day to One and All

I'm starting to wonder if maybe the Dalai Lama is reading my blog or something. He seems to know something about me.

"As human beings we have good qualities as well as bad ones. Now, anger, attachment, jealousy, hatred, are the bad side; these are the real enemy. The true troublemaker is inside."

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Ok-
After giving up working this morning and coming home to a nice 4 hour nap, I woke up to realize I felt much better.
Yesterday was like one long anxiety attack, as the last few days have been.
I sure do feel a hell of a lot better when I don't have any contact with the X.

And also, thinking about last night...I don't feel like getting into the long thought process that led me there, but suffice to say my stupid ass is finally starting to grasp the fact that I may be enraged with her (and feel like she DID this to me) and yet I feel the inkling of forgiveness towards him (as if he is somehow innocent?)...and this is entirely incorrect.
I feel this toxic poisonous rage, directed at her. And yes, she IS a worthless homewrecking piece of shit.
But HE did this to me. To us. To my son.
And no matter how many people have pointed this out to me, it is only now starting to sink in.
Like, I know it, logically. I just haven't been able to hold that in my heart. For years he was my guiding light, my comfort, my protector, of sorts anyway. When I felt bad, I went to him to make me feel better. I trusted him.
And the person I trusted did this to me? That's one hard painful pill to swallow.
But its starting to go down.
God, it hurts.

Why can't I just let go?
WHY
WHY
WHY
WHY
WHY
WHY
WHY
WHY

Sure I could say, "Because I love him".
But somehow I know the answer is not that simple.
Am I afraid to be alone?
Ego?
Am I just horny?
Does part of me want things to work out?
While part of me would have agreed (before) with the last one, I don't think thats accurate anymore. The thought of being with him makes me nausous now, claustrophobic and downright sick.
So why do I care what he does, where he is? Why do I care about his well being, why do I care about how he feels? Why do I care if I hurt his feelings? He obviously doesn't share that sentiment concerning MY feelings.
I look back on the last few months and I feel a sickened sort of horror, imagining him running around with her, knowing he was destroying everything we had and laughing while he did it.

And why the hell am I stuck with these ghost images of the past few months? What the fuck is that? How do I get it to stop?

Erica, I wish you were here.

Finished with the old place. Left the key. And I thought I would be ecstatic at the closure, but I feel horrible. I haven't quite figured it out yet.
At any rate, right before I left I stood there and looked around. It's all clean and looks (mostly) like it did when we moved in. I thought maybe I should have a tender moment, standing there looking at what used to be a happy home. But when I tried to remember all the great times we had there, I was instead stuck with this horrible ghost image of myself wandering the empty halls, pacing and bawling my eyes out.
What used to be heaven turned into hell.
So I sat down, knelt right down on the carpet and started praying. I told God I didn't understand why things happened the way they did, but that I believed there was a plan, even if I didn't like it or understand it. And I asked if he could please explain why it happened? (silence) So then I asked, "Was being with him ever right?" And I got a long answer about people making choices and learning lessons and free will, that sort of thing. So I asked, "Was being with him ever the right choice for me? (meaning healthy, possibly forever sort of thing)" and I got a solid NO on that one.
So I stood up and looked around again, and again had the image of watching myself wandering the halls crying and emotionally tormented, and I turned around and opened the door, glanced back and realized it was time to leave. So I said, "Goodbye, " and left, locking my key inside.

Instead of feeling relieved, I feel horribly, deeply disturbed.
I think it was the ghost image of myself.
Like, ghosts are one thing. A ghost of yourself? When you're not dead? Very freaky.



(An hour later)
I spoke to the X and he said he went to go drop off his key, too. He went from room to room in the dark, imagining it how it was and fun little moments from our past, happy times we had. He said it was very sad.
Interesting, our totally different experiences, no?

I really need to find a way to release this rage.
I can't take much more of it.
It's toxic.

I think I see why the X drives me insane.
Every time I hang out with him, it gets me to thinking...
It's difficult for me to not be enraged thinking about how good things could have been between us, and how we could have had a beautiful life together. How when that Stupid Girl first started working with him he was pissed off that they hired some "scrappy stinky hippy", but then he ends up fucking her a few months later. It's difficult seeing her stupid ass bumper sticker "take nothing but memories leave nothing but footprints" and thinking NICE SENTIMENT HOWEVER she has instead left permanent scars in both myself and my child...and THAT is where the worst of my rage comes from...SHE HURT MY CHILD. My son is an emotional fucked up mess and has been for months. When I told him the X and I were breaking up, he cried. He asked me, "Where are we going to live? How will we live without him?" which was heartbreaking; he can't remember life before him. He was 2 when we got together. The first few nights we were in our new place he cried himself to sleep, saying he wanted (my X).
This is what really makes me put a bullet through her skull.
It's a shame I never will.
The world would be a better place without her.

I saw this truck today and started laughing. It made me laugh so hard, in fact, I chased it down the street and took a picture at the light.
I had to share the joy.

I decided I want my damn deposit back, so I ended up at the old place today, with the X, cleaning. I was glad I did when I saw his idea of "wiped down" - it was all still filthy. So I spent nearly 6 hours today scrubbing things with bleach and wiping them off again with paper towels. Rather inconvenient it was that a water line had broken so there was NO WATER. Kinda hard to clean that way.
Now finally back home 7 hours later and I realize I've been trying to not be enraged all day, but I am now. It seems every time I have to be around him we make nice, because its awkward and horrible otherwise. But I can't keep it up forever, or maybe I feel sick and sold out later, I don't know.
Suffice to say it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
A very bad taste.

"Ever since the day you left me, I feel so miserable my dear....I feel almost as bad as I did when you were still here..."

-Weird Al (Since You've Been Gone)

babbling to walls

If you take something and "Babelize it" it changes into something else. SO for a scientific experiment, I tried writing something I may have said to my X, and waited to see what he may have heard.


"I told you I did not want a drunken bastard boyfriend, please pull your head out of your ass now."

Turns into:

"I said the automobile to him that I did not wish to a bêbedo of the
friend half-breed, that requests its head of its hour of the donkey."

And I clearly see how he could misunderstand everything so easily.

I am being so totally sarcastic, yes.

Oh dear God.
I see Michigan has officially named a Bob Seger day, in honor of, you guessed it, Bob Seger.
Funny little story I have, and I think of it every time I hear anything about Bob Seger:
One day I was in downtown Royal Oak and walking over to Noir Leather, when I hear these people arguing loudly around the corner. Well, as we cross the street I see them down the block. It's a woman in a car and a man standing outside the drivers side, she's got the window down and their yelling at each other in loud redneck tones. As I'm crossing the street I hear him yell, "You know, I took you to Bob Seger's office! I don't take just anybody to Bob Seger's office!" as if she should feel indebted to him for this favor he seems to feel is nothing short of miraculous. She says something to him and he yells, "Well, give me my cigarettes, bitch!" so she throws them at him and they hit him in the chest and fall to the ground. While he leans over to grab them off the street she peels off.

Every time I hear anything at all about Bob Seger I have that guys voice in my head,
"I took you to Bob Seger's office! I don't take just anybody to Bob Seger's office!"

And to this day I wonder: was Bob Seger IN his office? And how did she know it was indeed Bob Segers office? It could have been any office. Did that guy use his Bob Segers office privledges to get himself laid or something? And if so, did it work?
These things I may never know. Alas.

Sooner or later I will get over this whole stupid thing with the X.
Someday I will be my normal, vivacious lioness self.
I look forward to that day. Greatly.

"You can piss up a rope, and you can put on your shoes, hit the road/get truckin, pack your bag/I don't need the agg, on your knees you big booty bitch/start suckin, you ride my ass like a horse in a saddle, now you're up shits creek with a turd for a paddle, and I can't cope; piss up a rope."

-Ween (Piss Up A Rope)

"The stars predict tomorrow you'll wake up, do a bunch of stuff, then go back to sleep. That's your horoscope for today."

-Weird Al

enjoy your corpse

So today I went to clean out what remained at the old apartment. We're supposed to be out tomorrow. Ok. It needs a serious cleaning. But tons of old shit is still in there, stuff I don't want, stuff that needs to be thrown away. And then lots of the X's stuff.
Well, the original plan was for me to go over there and get out the Goodwill stuff and get things under control. And then, because I AM really such a nice person, I was going to help him get the rest of his shit out so we can finally get down to cleaning it.
Then he went and hung out with Stupid Girl last night. You know, the one he "never wants to see her face again" and "never even wants to talk to her!"...yah, THAT one. And he calls me up drunk and tells me he was hanging out with her, "But not really" and I yell at him and he acts like an asshole because he's drunk. The correct response would have been an apology, but these things do not occur to my X, because he is a selfish asshole.
SO. Today I go over there while he is at work. I start cleaning things out, carrying out my old stuff I don't want. In one room I find another piece of paper with her phone number (home AND cell! God forbid he can't get a hold of her!) in her barfy round high school handwriting (it's only missing a big circle over every I, you know?) next to the Valentine she gave him, next to the invitation to her party.
Doesn't seem like he's really as "over" her as he says, now does it?
No. No it doesn't.
And these things would be irrelevant EXCEPT for the fact that this motherfucker is playing me completely, telling me how he wants us to be together and how much he hates her now, how she just makes him sick. So why save all her little things, as if you are attached? Hmmmm.....indeed.
So I call him and tell him, then shred everything with a pair of scissors (conveniently located nearby!) and then reshred her shirt she gave him, just for good measure, then stab a hole through the folder I gave him with all his tax info for the last 4 years (God knows he couldn't do that on his own! I did them for him!) and write a note around the scissors which are sticking straight up as a nice effect, I thought. My note said something to the extent of how I had totally taken care of him and was loyal and trusting and loved him completely, and this is the thanks I get. And also, since I know she will be back to help him tomorrow (maybe tonight) I added in larger print, "You said she was a corpse in bed. Enjoy your corpse."
Just a little warm fuzzy to her from me.
And me? I kept the party invitation.
It's got her address.
(insert slow wicked smile here)

Bumper sticker update:

Always a favorite:
God is too big for any one religion.

Which was on a truck next to this:
I believe in life before death.

So I came up with a great idea for Home Depot to make more money. I was in there the other day and couldn't help noticing all the hunky construction/landscaping/carpenter/whatever guys walking around lifting things....(ahem). And as I walked past the patio furniture, I thought, hmmmmmm.....
I sure would like to sit down and have someone bring me some fruity drink with an umbrella and window shop. I mean ogle. Oh, I mean, admire the view?
Seriously, Home Depot (and Lowes) you guys need to get on this. Women could have a whole new place to go on their lunch hours. And I promise, it will totally inspire us to do more work around the house. I swear we'll buy things. Probably while drunk and horny, but whatever pushes sales up is a good thing, right?
Right?

T shirt never lies

I'm not doing a very good job of sleeping.

I've been feeling very conflicted lately. Part of me is over the X, moving on, knows better, doesn't care......part of me is attached to the idea of a fairy tale ending, where everything works out and we live happily ever after.
Here's where I'm confused.
That second part? Where things work out? I can't seem to figure out if that's ME feeling that way. I mean, the whole empathy thing...sometimes I pick up other peoples feelings and mistake them for my own. I have the distinct impression that what I am feeling (as far as things working out) is not MY feelings but....like a super imposed image. The X, his parents, well, pretty much his whole family...maybe his friends....that I don't know.....all want us to get back together. His bosses...I could tell that when I saw them the other day. And I feel this expectation, this feeling like people are watching me to see what I'm going to do. I feel judged. I feel like if the X and I don't get back together, I am letting these people down. They will be disappointed.
Ok. Time to break it down.
What exactly will they be disappointed in?
I mean, to be realistic, it's not me! Let me clarify that for my guilty self! They are disappointed in him! I don't need to feel so freakin guilty, and I can stop that crap right away.
They may be disappointed in the loss of love, or the loss of a dream, or you know, it really doesn't even matter. Who gives a crap what everybody else feels about it?
the question is:
HOW DO I FEEL ABOUT IT?
How DO I feel about it?
I think he's hopeless. I think he might change, but I think when and if he does, it will way past the point that I care anymore. Well, I think it will be way past the point that he's destroyed all of the love I had for him, through his own selfish asshole behavior.
Of which he exhibits frequently.
How do I feel?
I am partly attached to the fairy tale ending, where I imagine he will suddenly have an epiphany and come to his senses, rendering him the Man Of My Dreams.
Likelihood?
Hmmmmmm.....zilch? Close enough anyway.
So why do I still talk to him? Why do I bother to speak to him at all?
Because my son loves him? A good excuse, but barely true.
Because I'm lonely and his affection feels soothing? Closer. The problem with this is that it's always a gamble. Who knows if he's going to be emotionally available that night? Will he be loving? Or just a sarcastic asswipe? Come to think of it, it's always when he's drinking that we fight. But then, one could argue he's usually drinking, so what difference would that make? When he drinks MORE we fight. What the fuck ever, right?
Because I worry about him. Yes, but my shrink asked me what is up with the whole maternal thing I have going on with him. She said, "You don't sound like a girlfriend, you sound like....." And I finished her sentence, "....His mom?" To which she nodded. It's true. I watch out for him, as if he was an idiot kid who couldn't figure out what to do. And a lot of times, that's true.
But I'm not helping, I am hindering. I'm enabling him.
That's not healthy for either one of us.


I need some sleep.

I'm thinking that I seem to have a thing for guys with little to no self esteem. And that their self esteem issues always cause problems in the relationship (jealousy, intimidation, depression, etc).
So I'm thinking....No more guys with low self esteem.
It's cute, granted. In that dorky way. But there's got to be a dorky guy who has some serious balls, too.
I really think when a man tells you, "I don't deserve you" he's RIGHT.
...And it's a huge red flag and you should promptly RUN AWAY!

Slept for shit once again. I knew X was going to see Primus, and I asked him if he would call me and tell me how it was, since I couldn't go. About 3 am my curiosity overcame me and I called him. I didn't feel too bad because he told me if I ever have insomnia I can call whenever....and since I blame him for the damn insomnia, wtf, right? (Laughing) At any rate, he picked right up. He had a couple of his buddies over and I guessed right away they were all doing coke. I mean, wide awake at 3am? For a drinker? Methinks not. At any rate, he sounded very happy, and I realized he has what he wanted: space to be his fucked up self. He used to complain that his pals couldn't come over and party at our house (uhhh....NO....kid? Hello?) so now he has his own pad and they all went to Primus and partied at his house.
Yet another reality check for Yours Truly.
It hit me while I talked to him (albeit briefly): This is what he wanted. He now has it. He's happy about that. What he wants and what he now has is NOT what I want. We want two totally different things. I don't party. I don't really care to. I have nights where I want to go out with the crew and have a freaking good time, but I don't like hangovers so I don't like drinking very often, and I'm not into all the drugs people like to do...so that isn't an interest either. I'm happy having dinner parties at my house. I like people coming over and chillin, I don't need loud music and drunk dumbasses around me to have a good time. I have really wanted to go dancing, but that's not quite the same.
My rambling pre-caffeinated point is that he and I want two separate, non-combinable (as far as I can see) things.
There's the bottom line.
There's my focal point.
And BAM! I am clear again.
Well, mostly. I feel much better than I did yesterday anyway.

Mental note to self!

When a nympho is trying to deaden her sex drive so that she may think clearly and not be so damn muddle brained, it is best NOT to read Cosmo magazines ideas on sex.

I feel so out of it, so off kilter, so unbalanced and out of whack. Are their more synonyms I could come up with? Probably.

I think it's the X. I felt just fine when we weren't getting along, now we are talking again and while that's nice and all, I'm not sure I can even talk to him without being horribly confused.
It feels....like....emotional fly tape.

Thats the best description I can give right now.
More later, I'm sure.

"We must acknowledge that there can be no hope of gratifying the senses permanently. At best, the happiness we derive from eating a good meal can only last until the next time we are hungry."

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Talked to the X today. He wants to get back together. He wants us to be all okey dokey again. He says this, you see, because he's finally annoyed with the Stupid Girl. I tell him I love him. I tell him I am conflicted. I tell him he was in bed with this girl 2 days ago, so what the fuck is he thinking? I tell him that him getting over the Stupid Girl does not solve the problem; the problem is his low self esteem, which caused him to seek attention elsewhere. I tell him there is no chance of us getting back together until he fixes that whole self esteem/self confidence problem, which would in turn, help with my trust issues.....

(shaking head)
I....I'm actually speechless on this one.
Like, TA-DA! Let's be happy again?
He needs a shrink.
Obviously.

It's not that I don't love him. I do. I just cannot be with him, because he is unable to love me in any healthy way. Because he is unable to love himself in any healthy way.
It's really hard when he looks at me and hugs me and tells me how much he loves me, with that look like he used to give me.....
~SIGH~
I cannot allow myself the delusion of believing its ok.
Because I know in my heart it is NOT.

"It is said that there are only two tragedies in life: not getting what one wants, and getting it."

-Bhanta Henepola Gunaratana, "Eight Mindful Steps to Happiness"

So there was a rally in downtown Asheville yesterday. Much to my disbelief, the good Christians of WNC decided to hold a RALLY in support of an amendment to ban gay marriage.
This blows my mind.
It really does.
First, that anyone would be so presumptuous and stupid to think they can now combine church and state.
Second, that they are trying to "claim" that gay couples are CAUSING the breakdown of traditional marriages. Yah, when my parents got divorced cause my Dads an alcoholic, I'm sure that gay people were somehow responsible! Damn all those gay folk back in the 70's!!!
Third, that all these (choke, gag) "well meaning" Christian folks deemed it appropriate to congregate and try to make themselves feel better by publicly stating their opinions.

If they are the majority, as they claim, why the need to hold a rally?

And in Asheville? Hellloooo? Queer central? Were they surprised, I wonder, that the amount of people who showed up in support of the rally was equal to the amount of people who showed up protesting it?

The Citizen Times has a picture on their web site of one woman praying, while shielding her childrens eyes so they won't see all those gay people.

OH MY GOD.

That photo is in and of itself, just priceless.
Why bring your children to this rally? To help bolster their faith? Why NOT let them see? If they think as you do (and they are children, why would they not?) why not let them see the heathens, let them witness the sin firsthand? Let them share in your horror?
You homophobic shortsighted twisted motherfuckers.

~deep breath~

My opinion?
I think the Bible was written way back when keeping up the population was a chore. Homosexual behavior does not a planet populate.
Now?
Do you honestly think God wants us to continue to overpopluate this planet? Do you think Jesus has a problem with people who love each other and are willing to adopt and raise an innocent child cast out by its own heterosexual parents? There are children starving, not in China, but in your own town! And gay couples are filling a need as loving responsible parents. A need created by the irresponsible heterosexuals.

But you want to deny them the privilege of marrying.


WAIT WAIT! Because it THREATENS your heterosexual marriage????

Oh hellfire and damnation!
People are insane.

When will the stress level go back down? When will I quit being so upset about whatever stupid shit the X does?
I found out she spent the night last night. In MY old house. The house I sat in crying night after night while she was out with my boyfriend. The thought of her being inside MY house feels like such a violation. I shouldn't care. I don't live there. The place is a trashed fucked up hell anyway. But knowing she was in MY house that I shared WITH him, that used to be OUR little lovenest.....

Yet another day I'm glad I don't own a gun.

things that amuse my child:

It was a funny moment:
The little curly haired boy standing next to the blue haired guy in a wedding dress was explaining to the little girl next to him, "That's a boy you know....."
Out of the mouths of babes.

Well, stiletto night was a riot.
I think the entire city of Asheville was in lame mode, but damn we looked good.
And you know, sometimes thats all that matters.
A girls gottta flex a little ego now and then.

I've decided its time to quit dating little boys. Oh, some of the guys in recent years have SEEMED adult, but no. Anyone who knows my ex would laugh; no I wasn't referring to him being grown up. He was cute and shy and dorky, and this I loved about him.
I've been trying to figure out what it is I seek. I'm not actively seeking, mind you. I'm giving this thought because if I don't know just what it is I"m looking for I won't know it when I find it. Or I may settle for less than I want, not realizing it till later. Speaking of which....

I called the X this morning. Woke him up. Holy shit was he hung over. He sounded like he'd been asleep for maybe an hour or two. It was a lovely reminder for me as to why we are not together. I couldn't have had better timing.

As I drove through downtown, I got to thinking about when he and I met, and the person he was then. Seeing clearly with hindsight, I realize he was a stumbling drunk most nights. And thinking of him like that makes me sad, because I see what I saw back then: an awesome guy in horrible pain. What I see now that I didn't see then: my love will not save him, will not heal him, will not make him better. And although it makes me sad to know he has returned to his former blazing alcoholic state, I know it is not my destiny to interfere with his, really. I still want to stop him from destruction. But I realize I am only postponing the inevitable. Not that he will self destruct. He may. But he may come face to face with whatever he needs to deal with, eventually. I wonder if maybe I've just postponed that for him for 5 years.
I don't know.

stilettos heal all

Went shopping today. Since Erica and I are having Girls Night Out (tomorrow), and I have just lost a bunch of weight, and I AM single, and I've had the last 4 months from hell, I decided it was high time I bought a pair of stiletto heels. I came home, put them on, and now every time I look at my feet I feel like a million bucks.
Hell yes.

You come from Dark Water. You are solitary and
find peace in yourself, or maybe you're
turmoiled but pull off peace.


Where Did Your Soul Originate?
brought to you by Quizilla


I took this test before and decided to try it again.
Different this time. Not by much. But still.

I've finally settled in to the new place. I haven't finished unpacking, by any means. But I feel at home here. Not necessarily safe yet, but that part always takes time.

Every day when I get off of work and make the trek home in rush hour traffic, I am amazed. I thought I would hate being forced to do rush hour, that it would be some sort of medieval torture each day, but I discovered something amazing:
I am always happy.
Why?
Why indeed.
I've given it much thought.

And what I discovered it so simple, it blows me away:
I'm happy going home now.

I didn't realize how miserable I was until now. I think the misery snuck up on me and infiltrated my consciousness to the point it overran everything.

This weekend I took my son to the park. As I sat there in the gorgeous sunlight I took a few minutes to simply enjoy the sun on my face. And in this zen moment, I realized what felt different:
I wasn't consumed with worry.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh......

I was so worried about the loss of love, I didn't realize a fact:
there is no loss of love.
And the gains are beyond my ability to have seen at that time.
I'm starting to see them now.

"Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last."

The odd thing is that HE was the one who wanted his freedom. I didn't. And now that we both have it, I'm happy. He's not.

Go figure.

Saw this guy walking down the street the other day.
Hmmmmm.

Oops- I take that back. I did answer the phone a few times. He called over and over so I finally had Beyonces "Me Myself and I" blaring and hit the answer button so he could hear her sing,
"...Silly of me to dream of one day having your kids, love is so blind it feels right when it's wrong...I can't believe I fell for your schemes I'm smarter than that...so dumb and naive to believe that with me you're a changed man........so controlling, you say that you love me when you don't, your family told me one day I would see it on my own.......now that it's over stop calling me, come pick up your clothes, ain't no need to front like you're still with me all your homies know, even your very best friend tried to warn me on the low, it took me some time but now I am strong...because I've realized I've got Me Myself and I, that's all I've got in the end; that's what I've found out, and there ain't no need to cry, I took a vow that from now on I'm gonna be my own best friend (I know that I would never disappoint myself) (after all the rain you'll see the sun come out again)"
The song is cut up considerably for the vital parts pertaining to my situation....but those are the parts he heard when he called.
And then I hung up.

Hung out with the X for a little while yesterday. Went over to get stuff. We were getting along really well. It was nice. He was telling me how the Ho From Work was having a party and he didn't want to go, he only wanted to be with me. How nice.
So I go back today to get the rest of my stuff and ask him where he was this morning (thinking it was apartment hunting) and he tells me he spent the night at her house. In her bed, I ask? Uh huh, he says, "But tells me there was like 4 people in there! She had company in town and there was nowhere to sleep!" Yuh huh, I say. And who else was there in her bed, I ask? He says, Uh....her and her friend. Both female. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOh Ok! It wasn't just you and her alone! It was you and two chicks! How was your threesome, I ask? He says they all slept with their clothes on and .... (I'm already tuning him out- like any of it MATTERS, lying sack of crap.) I ask him WHY he slept in her bed and he starts crying, telling me how lonely he is now that I'm gone (even though that was his doing), and how since he couldn't be with ME....well....he shrugs.
I tell him he's the biggest pussy assed little bitch I have ever known. I get the rest of my things, and drive away.
He calls my cell. I don't answer. He calls my house. I don't answer.

Goodbye insanity.
Goodbye torment.
Goodbye fucked up alcoholic.
Good luck in hell.