Dr. Ruth

Two things have generated this blog post. First thing is I have had a string of successful “dates”…I think the Italian Salesman was my lucky charm. The responses to my ad were respectful and well written; there was no evasiveness, no demands. They sounded sincere and interested and more importantly…interesting. One guy lives in North Dakota and rarely gets to DC, so no chance of wanting to see where it goes or of falling in like, lust or love. One guy had a large /big/wide foot fetish (and he also has a thing for armpits but even I am not that open minded)….I got a much needed foot massage while being told how cute and sexy my size 13s are. Another guy…the only way to describe what transpired is he feasted on me and my plumpness. If there was an area or body part that did not receive praise, admiration and adoration from him…I have no idea where it is. He said he had a Robin fetish. Readers, I needed these “dates” on so many levels: Dottie is going to make me sell body parts to keep up with her expenses; the need to touch, kiss, feel another person; the need to be worshipped, adored and made to feel pretty and sexy again…especially with me being recently dumped and on a cane. And it was…nice. I was paid attention to, massaged, touched, kissed and desired…I felt pretty, sexy and interesting again. And I was rewarded handsomely for my time…it was validation on all levels with boundaries and without expectations.

The second thing is I am still wandering down memory lane with the exes…not in an obsessive sort of way, but just reminiscing. Hell, all I have left are memories…others have the real thing now. I am slowly moving forward and away from Prince Charming, or rather who I thought he was. And the one thing I am reminiscing on is the sex with these guys. I rarely speak on sex (at least in great detail) which is surprising to me as I am such a sexual, sensual creature. It is how I connect with men, it is how I express my love and adoration and I swear, when I do so freely with a man I may as well be offering up my soul along with my heart. Remember, the financial aspect keeps boundaries in place and walls up…So today’s post is about sex with the men I once found special enough to offer it to freely. All it cost me was pieces of my heart, little bits of my soul and a lot of confidence and esteem.

Married Man: He is the one who introduced me to mutually pleasurable sex and gave me my first adult orgasm. Before that, I had one at 13 during a heavy kissing/makeout session with a neighborhood boy. I thought I had pissed myself and ran away feeling a lot of shame and humiliation; I ended up having resentment against that boy well into adulthood. (Clearly, a topic for another blog post) The worst thing about Married Man was kissing him….it was like a dog licking my face. See, he had thick lips and while some women swear by a man with thick lips…I don’t. Thick lips are good for sucking nipples and the other set of lips, not my mouth. He never gave me oral and when he finally did offer it, we were 6 years in and a year away from being over and frankly, I was no longer interested. He, however, adored my oral skills and called it “influence”…whenever I wanted my way, I “influenced” him and always got what I wanted. Too bad I am so low maintenance. He had a breast fetish (which works for me) and the mere sight of cleavage would cause his mouth to water…literally. His sex drive was very healthy and only Redskins football could damper it. He was also into outdoor sex/sex in public places but the appeal of that had worn off for me…that is the only way I had sex when I was in addiction and when we first started out (neither of us could host anywhere). So for me, sex indoors in a bed was exciting and new, and once I got my apartment, I insisted we meet there. He also liked to incorporate food products in our sex sometimes but instead of scooping out the frosting, cake, ice cream…he just dipped his wick in it which meant I no longer wanted to eat it once we were done.

Him: He was the only one who did give me oral…the way I see it, guys who are well endowed and/or can fuck feel they do not need to give oral. Not going to call them selfish because they do give pleasure to a partner, but there is nothing like the feeling of receiving oral. Him not only wanted to give me oral, he enjoyed doing so. It was no chore for him and he could stay down there for hours, which is good since intercourse was a three pump deal for the man. Him was also incredibly affectionate and courteous, always asking was I comfortable, did it hurt, was I enjoying myself. He made sex FUN…we would talk, laugh and kiss…and he was an excellent kisser. With him, it always felt new and almost like two kids exploring and discovering what felt good. He paid attention to everything sexual…I remember once we were watching porn while playing and he was the one who noticed they were speaking in a foreign language. Forget the nakedness, the “I could NEVER do that” positions…he noticed they were not speaking English. What I found amazing about Him was as quick as he was with intercourse…he could last forever when receiving oral. His penis which could not last three minutes in the warm and wet between my legs was on steroids when introduced to my other warm and wet. The five hour blowjob is not a joke. And his passion…we always left the room (forget the bed) a freaking mess…once Artsy Craftsy called me after Him had visited and asked me what I was doing…it so happened she caught me when I was trying to retrieve a thigh hi from the ceiling fan. Him was the one who before we parted after meeting would finger me hard and not wash his hands…he said he wanted my scent; the one thing that raised questions was he always, always, always had the same sheets on the bed. Not sure if they were his only pair but they never stank.

AFO: The man was downright kinky and had no problem switching it up in bed. He would go from manhandling me, flipping me, spanking me to begging me to take him with a strap-on. He had the softest lips and tongue…it was like feathers lighting on my mouth and nipples. He never gave oral, never offered it and never even said he did it. If giving oral was suggested to him, he got this blank look on his face as if I had just spoken in complete gibberish. And to his credit, while he would receive oral, he never wanted much of it…he was a nitty gritty, get to it sort of guy. He never needed to recharge…he just kept going and going. He was not much of a talker or cuddler once he got in motion and the soft kisses and breast play became a memory. It is as if he needed them to get started but not to keep going. He had a white cotton sock fetish and could not get aroused or perform without them. He enjoyed all kinds of positions, giving/receiving spankings and masturbation. His style of “making love” was jackrabbit fast…he got in and pounded away as if bombs were exploding all around us and he had to hurry up and get it over with. AFO is the only man I felt no sense of sexual satisfaction with…he would get me right to the edge and declare I had had an orgasm and it was his turn. Amazing how many men have no idea what the female orgasm looks or feels like. Legend has it that Cleopatra had orgasms that lasted two days…I could not even get two minutes worth with this guy.

PC/CP: Of course he is special to me…always has been and probably always will be. Hell, he is the one who got a parting gift despite what he was revealed to be. But he is probably the most inexperienced/simplest of the four. THIS is a man who had no idea whether or not he had participated in a threesome. I kid you not….when asked had he ever been involved in one his response was: I think so. When he decided that yes, he HAD been a participant the only details he could provide was to repeat a scenario I threw out there. So maybe he’s special in more ways than one. I have zero idea why we are not still together….I did all the work, all he had to do was nod along. He was big on touching and being touched…he liked rubbing, massaging and fingering. He liked to caress my cheek, run fingers through my hair and trace lazy circles on my back. Oh, and he loved to spank (and did it well) …and I love to be spanked. He had to be in the mood for breast play and he never returned oral favors but his kisses? I swear, I STILL feel his tongue in my mouth. As I mentioned in my previous post, he was the most well endowed of my men and he knew how to use it and make it last without making it hurtful or have me lose interest. Some guys pound away or slog away at it and it no longer is fun….it becomes a chore, like cleaning the apartment. But PC introduced tricks into the mix (the belt around my neck (and he did it one-handed!) was a stroke of genius). However, he was only comfortable with one position and whether it was physical or verbal, all sexual scenarios had the same script, same routine.

What makes PC stand out is that his seduction was mental, from the very beginning. The man is somewhat intelligent and I found his viewpoints and opinions on various topics of current and world events to be fascinating and more often than not, in line with mine. He found his way inside my head, he discovered the little girl have hidden away…the girl who simply wants to be cared about, paid attention to and made to feel safe and protected. And he did that…he offered me structure and accountability which I need in my life. I am quick to run off the rails and famous for not telling anyone until after the fact. As I like to say…you will always get the truth from me…just not when it happens. Toss in the Daddy/control aspect, the sexting/phone sex and the sharing of porn…it was a literal mind fuck. It really is too bad he had no idea what to do with the little girl once he found her and no clue how to handle the woman I am.

It may seem I am a little preoccupied with my past right now, but it is all I have. My present is boring, stagnant and uncomfortable what with dealing with the sitting still part of the process and brand new lifestyle changes. These dates are merely transient strangers who blend into the background and help me pay a bill or two. The future? As PC always says: who knows what it holds? And as much as I say it is a copout…it’s true. The only thing I DO know about it is that it is highly unlikely any of these men will be a part of it. Truthfully, I don’t want any of them back. These men offered me less than I deserved, and I took it with the hopes that more was coming…and what you will allow is what will continue. In some cases, even less than what was offered was put out there along with disrespect and mistreatment. The one that still stings (probably because it is so recent) is PC. I MISS PC (some days I feel like I am drowning in a sea of missing) but he turned out to be the most fucked up of them all….I cannot deal with or comprehend such levels of fucked upness. And yes, I have forgiven but this is my definition of forgiveness: I have made peace with the situation, not with him. He can still get a lit cigarette in the eye. In time, I will go back to wanting to extinguish cigarettes in the proper place and manner, but that time has not arrived yet.

So, I dig through my past and retrieve my memories; some are fun(ny), some are sweet, some are ugly. But they are mine and all I have until it’s time to make new ones with someone (I hope and pray) amazing, wonderful and who thinks I am the same. Someone who knows what they have when they have me in their life and their corner (and yes, it is more than a boatload of crazy) and who wants to be in my life and my heart as much as I want to be in theirs. As my horoscope put it…relationships come and go but the real thing will stick around and work it out. I want the real thing…whether I am ready for it or not is another question.

As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!

In a Nutshell

So….I’m bored. I am at the stage of the breakup process where I have let go (amazing that sending a parting gift could be so…liberating) and accepted that there will not be another chance and there are simply NO distractions to be found. My Panel has disappeared…they don’t know that my crazy is like my diabetes…just because you cannot see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there, but crazy is sleeping right now. I think it is waiting for a worthy subject. Anger jumps up and down once in awhile but it is more the mood swings than anything. The ads are simply up…the few responses I do get I simply ignore. The guys are either flakes or their spelling is so atrocious, I cannot decipher what they are trying to say/ask. So I leave it alone…except for the Italian salesman who took me on a “magic carpet ride” which was pornographically amazing. Craigslist has gotten so disgusting, I don’t even bother…whatever activities I want to do, I will do alone, which is probably best. Dottie does not like many people. Work…it’s work. A bit social but no distractions to be found there either unless you count the guys talking about their wives/girlfriends and the girls lamenting their singleness. Which leaves me bored, watching comedy clips on youtube and reading horoscopes..and then it hit me…why not write a post encapsulating the men who still invade my thoughts and make me wonder…what if? It would be different for both writer and reader and we need (at least I do) different around here. I am going to break their anonymity this one time only…after all this time, why not? They don’t read (at least not this blog they don’t) and neither do their significant others. Without further ado, read on to see what kept me with them and makes me miss them (sometimes).

Married Man: His name is Jerrold, he will be 52 this year, his favorite color is anything flashy, his favorite sports team is the Redskins, his zodiac sign is Cancer and his favorite holiday is Christmas.
Best things about him: he likes to teach people things and is a very good story teller.
Worst things about him: he always had to be right, even when he was wrong; can throw tantrums when he does not get his way; always bought the wife and I the same gift
Nicknames: I called him Pooh Bear, he called me Babe (as in Sonny & Cher’s song, not the pig)
Funny/Memorable Moment: He was telling me a story about how his mama wanted to name him something else when he was born, but I was totally engrossed in a movie. He accused me of not listening and I was like…I am listening, honey. Tell me, what did your mama name you? The look on his face still makes me laugh out loud.
Why I fell: the man is charming and can be very romantic: we had an indoor picnic on a rainy Saturday, we shared a milkshake at an ice cream shop and he gave me pedicures.
Favorite Foods: meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, crabs
The Woman: His wife is named Sheila, she works as a lunch room/cafeteria manager for a local high school and she resembles a very, very, very thin Anita Baker with weave.
Fun Facts: 15 years before we actually hooked up, we were introduced by my First Love (whose name is Charles) …they were coworkers at the time, Also, he dated his wife for 20 years before marrying her.

Him: His name is Tom, he will be 60 this year, his favorite color is red, his favorite sports team is the Redskins, his zodiac sign is Aries and his favorite holiday is Christmas.
Best things about him: good listener, good cook, best story teller ever.
Worst things about him: weak sex drive, shifts blame
Nicknames: I called him Grumposaurus (he always said he was a grumpy dinosaur) and he called me PITA
Funny/Memorable Moment: We were in bed, feeding each other tuna and pasta salad when he had to go pass gas…he goes into the bathroom (connected to the bedroom), farts and walks out…leaving the door wide open. Dude, what was the point?
Why I fell: it was connection at first sight with us, and when he was not depressed, feeling inadequate and could perform…he made my body SING with pleasure. Also, he was a cuddler.
Favorite Foods: baked chicken, macaroni and cheese, tunafish, anything breakfast. He will not eat leftovers.
The Woman: BTH/BTGD is named Sasha, she is a stay at home wife and mother and looks like Neicey Nash…hair, makeup, tits and all.
Fun Facts: Our birthdays are 4 months and 4 days apart and fall on the same day of the week, we are both allergic to peaches and his grandparents lived in a house purchased from a Sears & Roebuck catalog

AFO: His name is Mike, he is 39, his favorite color is white, his favorite sports team is the Chicago Bears, his zodiac sign is Pisces and his favorite holiday is Independence Day (because there is free food and beer)
Best things about him: great kisser, good looking, incredible sex drive
Worst things about him: socially awkward (his jokes fell flat every.time), emotionally detached/unavailable (even when laying next to each other, he still wasn’t “there”) , incredible OCD
Nicknames: I called him Captain, he called me by my name (Robin)…I figured that was an achievement in itself
Why I fell: Pure lust/ animal attraction and he was easy going
Favorite Foods: Pizza, steak, chicken
Funniest/Memorable Moment: we were eating pizza in bed at his hotel (resting between rounds) when he dropped his slice in bed. He stripped the bed, called housekeeping and had to remake the bed completely before we could get back in it. And making the bed took forever because of his OCD (or CDO as he calls it)…I fell asleep in the chair.
The Woman: Anyone online and available
Fun Facts: Although accepted, he never went to the Air Force Academy…he graduated from a community college, had never seen one episode of Maury until I made him watch it and is an avid reader of murder mysteries

Prince Charming/Celibate Priest/Horny Toad: His name is Travis, he will be 43 in less than 30 days, his favorite colors are orange and black, his favorite sports team is the Notre Dame Fighting Irish anything, his zodiac sign is Taurus and his favorite holiday is Halloween
Best things about him: incredibly attentive and complimentary, damned good looking, best.kisser.ever., well endowed, modest
Worst things about him: pathological liar, stubborn (he shuts down completely) , controlling, possessive
Nicknames: I called him Daddy or Charming, never by his name; he called me either Babygirl or Little One, never by my name
Funny/Memorable Moment: the story he told about splitting his pants in the crotch/groin area and trying to find a sewing kit to repair the damage. He could not find a sewing kit to save his life and settled for duct taping the pants together. He swears the tape was on the inside of the pants but I have my doubts.
Why I fell: he and I had an instant connection/attraction and we are the same person with the same issues (mental, emotional and physical), his attentiveness, his intelligence
Favorite Foods: Raisinettes, steak, fish, chicken, mashed potatoes, apples
The Woman: MG is named Maria, she sells Amway products and is a babysitter; she is very plain and average looking with the weirdest penciled on eyebrows…ever.
Fun facts: His law degree is in Contracts but he has yet to work in that field of law, he excelled in three sports during high school and college: football, baseball and track; and his father was a microbiologist for the Marine Corps.

So there it is …a brief snapshot of the men who drove me crazy, had me wanting to kill them at one point and taught me valuable lessons. It really wasn’t all bad (would like to think I would not have started, stayed or tried so hard to hold on if it were) and with one of them, I found a happiness I never thought I would be privy to in this lifetime. Check back soon for more posts and hopefully new drama and adventures. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

Rock of Gibraltar

There have been no meltdowns or breakdowns…I am very happy to report that. I mailed off the package to PC…yes, perfumed (with Elizabeth Arden’s Untold) “dirty” lacy black thongs included (may as well have fun with the last hurrah, right?) and included a letter also. I just sat down and began typing and let it all out: the caring, the hurt, the anger, the disbelief…I purged and I feel better. Not lighter, not happy and not even relieved… but better. The letter to PC was nowhere on par with a missive to Him (far less venom and practically no curse words), but the man will definitely get the point. IF he reads it, and it is fine if he doesn’t…hell, he never has to open the package. Frankly, if my intuition is correct, I have that package being back on my doorstep unopened with a huge RETURN TO SENDER sign plastered across it …and that is okay too. This is not about being right or being recognized…it is about clearing and closure and I did what I felt I needed to do to close the door, heal and move on.

I have had another orgasm (I am on a roll and riding the wave) …stronger and harder…so I have hope that if I cannot eliminate the stress of life and love, I can at least still release it. And I had a date via the ads…well, an almost date. Dude showed up…slightly intoxicated. He wanted to break the ice first with conversation and that’s fine…in fact, I encourage that as it is not so impersonal that way. Although given the way this worked out with AFO and PC, I may want to be a cash register on feet except with less personality. In any case, dude spilled his guts and his emotional mess made me wonder what the hell is my problem…hell, I am FINE. For real. He said I was beautiful (red flag) and that he needed a woman like me in his life (the train gate has closed and the train is barreling down the tracks). He wanted this to be the start of a relationship between us…we could be each other’s support, person and have a happily ever after and never be lonely again. Then he wanted to spend the night. That is when I put him out of my house and turned on ID Channel to take more notes.

As I struggle to rise above this messy, messy situation and let my hurt heal, I find myself missing and wanting one Panel member above all others. If you have been reading my love letters, you know that each friend provides something for me: Chef is laughter, Artsy Craftsy is the cheerleading squad, Morning Person is the drive and ambition, UTA is comfort, Oscar is random, Cuz is wisdom…and now I need strength. Girlfriend is my strength. I am nowhere near healed at all, my trust issues are in urgent care and crazy and hope are talking in their sleep. I am ready to take my men the way I take my coffee…and I do not drink coffee. I need to be supported, propped up and let someone else fight the battle for a minute…and Girlfriend does that for me. So without further ado, here is my love letter to my most special Chica. Check back soon for more posts, love letters and potential updates…on what, I have no idea. A always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!

My Dearest, Dearest Girlfriend:

Ten years you have been a part of my life…my dinner partner, my movie partner, my Date Night, the one who drinks my alcohol for me when the situation is just too stressful. You have been there for every personal and professional up and down. You are the one who led the Mass for Prayers for Snow at the Island, the one who started the McDreamy, McSteamy and McHottie craze, the one who helped us almost garner bereavement leave when Meredith Grey “died” and you are the one who happily has a drink for me..and even lets me pick the drink.

You are beautiful, sweet, adventurous, intelligent and oh, so funny along with being sexy, calm, peaceful and strong. I am not sure which amazes me more: your strength or the inner peace you manage to maintain even when your life is topsy turvy. We have shared our many relationships, sexual adventures and heartaches together…you were there when Married Man’s wife was calling the Island, you were there for the entire Him fiasco, you warned me not to mess with AFO because he was Air Force and not USMC and with PC/CP…you shared my happiness and offered to kick his ass when he fell from grace. When I could not find a job if they were handing them out on street corners, you offered to treat me to nights out to refresh my perspective. And through all of it, you were the one who both told me and showed me that as wrong and unfair things turn out, that some things will never be made right….and dwelling on them will never make it fair or right but only make them more wrong.

What I both admire and envy about you (aside from your incredible beauty) is the way you embrace life with arms wide open….you never let your fall downs or setbacks keep you down or keep you from being open to the possibilities. You view everything as a chance to start over, start fresh and start just a little wiser. Not saying you do not get hurt, saddened or disappointed because you do, but your strength keeps you like a weeble-wobble (you may be too young to remember them)…they had a slogan/jingle :”weebles wobble but they don’t fall down.” And not only do you not fall down, you keep me from falling down also.

You have introduced me to Thai food, the absurdity of horror movies and shown me that age is merely a number and reminded me that sexiness is not limited to a certain age group. Through you, I have learned that my age, race, height, weight…all things I thought were deterrents or reasons for the crazy and stupid I attract matter not…men could have Trust Fund Barbie and still not be satisfied. And that is on them, not us. You embody self-love and inspire me that one day, I will walk away from impossible situations and survive a broken heart without having to go crazy and vengeful and obsessive to do so. And until then, knowing I have you to lean on and draw strength from makes me feel safe, hopeful and not alone.

I love you, Chica and here’s to another decade together…thank you for being my friend, my person and my rock.

Classroom of Love

Before I get started on the post, I have two things to share. First, I have named my diabetes: her name is Dottie. I named it for two reasons….I tend to personalize everything and this chick is costing me on average $200/month in meds and supplies alone. Not even getting into the extra food I now find myself buying to feed her ass. I thought about Dolly (short for Dollars) but chose Dottie in honor of my pincushioned fingertips. So yeah, I have named my condition and we are getting to know each other more and more, day by day. The second thing I want to share is…I have had an orgasm!!! YAY!!! It was not on level as my pre-Dottie ones…rather weak, actually….but I could actually feel sensations and feel the release. It isn’t much but making the most of what I can get right now.

So in my last blog post, I spoke on how I am taking the blame for this breakup between PC and myself and I am ready to dig deeper to try and find the root cause of this. First thing I have to say is I have a hard time reconciling who the person was versus who they are. My HEAD sees and realizes who the man is now, it knows how he is treating me which is like day old shit. My HEART still sees Prince Charming, the man who wanted something with me, the man who found me amazing and fun and deserving of all his attention. Anything I do now to further PC’s cause and agenda is out of caring and missing for who he was, for what we shared. My heart who sees who they were is the one who allows me to forgive, forget and try again. My heart is the one with the belief that not every man I have met so far is blind as a bat and stupid as hell despite being proven every time that any and every man who finds me attractive and worthy of attention is as crazy as a mental patient on a day pass. And when I enter into a reconciliation, I am thinking we are both on the same page, not that the guy thinks to do the same thing or worse and is okay.

I need to get my heart and head synced up; I need to put and keep guards and walls up. I need to become a man and walk away as if n one ever mattered and while it was fun while it lasted, it really was all a game and hey…thanks for playing. But it is hard for me to do because once I let my guards down and open the walls to my heart for someone…I am fully invested: ego, emotions and all the rest. That person becomes pretty much an obsession: they get all of my attention, all of my affection and I am basically consumed by/with them. And PC made it soooo easy to fall into that pattern because I had all of his attention and I thought, all of his affection. That man pretty much owned me and this is how low maintenance I am: he only had to show up twice. So it was solely based on the mental and the emotional…and that is some pretty powerful stuff…I gave up so much more than control. I gave up things I cannot even find words for. And up until he met up with MG at holiday time…I felt loved, protected and pretty. I felt that I mattered. Those are feelings that were a long time coming and so hard to let go of, even in the face of complete and utter rejection.

No, I do not want us to end. Yes, I know that he is all kinds of things no self-respecting woman would want in a man and that he no longer offers me the love and protection and validation. And again, I just don’t get it…why would I want that in my life? Why do I keep clinging to what was instead of leaving what is? I think I get so tangled up in who they present themselves to be, I feel as if I am losing/leaving pieces of myself behind when I finally do let go. Why am I so many wonderful things, yet all my dogs hunt? Why are the men I choose (and in the beginning, they choose me…I don’t chase/pursue until things get funky and I should be turning tail the other way) always looking for someone else? All of them did it. All of them. Am I not enough, do my sweat glands exude neediness and desperation, am I too intense? PC would always admonish me that it was a marathon, not a sprint..slow down. And I admit it…I want to jump to the ending in EVERYTHING: life, work, love, play because if it is going to end badly, I want to know before I waste too much time and get too deeply wrapped up, so maybe the guys felt pressured in some way? Another thing is I do not tolerate lying, bullshit or stupidity. Okay, that was a lie….I DO tolerate it but I call you out on it. And no one, especially guys, likes being called out or found out. I just feel I am doomed to be a permanent student in the Classroom of Love because it seems as if God keeps sending me tests and lessons instead of awarding me a diploma. And it would appear I still have not learnt a damned thing.

There is a bag sitting in my apartment. Inside this bag is a gift I bought for PC back when we reconciled. It is three books but not any old books…these are huge coffee table books (with dust jackets!), illustrated with rare photographs on three topics he is very interested in…hell, one may even say passionate about: baseball, Notre Dame football and the settling/establishing of western US. When I ordered them , they were all out of stock so I put in a backorder…and forgot about them, especially given how things turned out. And here they are, sitting in my apartment. I thought long and hard about what to do with them…returning them is not an option. The seller does not accept returns unless the item(s) are damaged…and the only thing damaged in this place is me. Keeping them was an option as I love learning and history, but to keep them would not be the best idea right now. I need to clear my space of the man…since I cannot seem to clear my head and heart except for the briefest of moments, let’s work from the outside in. So I am going to send them to PC…for a lot reasons. These books…they are his. Usually, the gifts I buy people are for them and are purchased with them, their interests and their personalities in mind. These books have his name all over them, and I associate it with memories, both good and bad. Also, they are my way of making amends and atonements because no one is ever completely blameless in a breakup…even if the only thing they do is ignore, overlook and allow the mistreatment to happen…they play a part. I only hope he appreciates and respects them more than he did me. No hidden agendas, no covert win him over tactics. I also tossed in two cards I bought for him before Christmas which expressed my hopes and desires for us. Weekend Phone Friend said to toss in some panties (what the hell can it hurt?) and I just may do that. Seriously, this is my last chance to say and do anything I want with him…and what is he going to do? Stop speaking to me? Snatch away a false friendship? Oh, wait…he has already done both of those! Not worried about looking foolish (I honestly do not think I can look anymore foolish than I do right now)…we already know I am. Just know I am truthful along with that.

There is a quote: “In real love, you want good for the other person; in romantic love, you want the other person.” Guess I had both for PC, but now it is time for healing and for closure. It is time to face the fact that it is time to realize the man he was, the man I am waiting in vain for… never existed. The man he is…he’s no one I can like, respect or want in my life in any capacity. As stated before, no need for explanations or apologies…there are none for this level of mistreatment. It is both so similar and so different from the Him situation and while I am no longer appalled and outraged by this behavior, I am deeply hurt and disappointed it came from a man who was once so different and special. There is no need for answers…I already have them. I already know this is in no way my fault…the man got caught up in his lies and bullshit and has no idea how to clean it up and I have no more in me to even want to try again. I wish he could have been truthful with me from the beginning…remember, there is a difference between honesty and truthfulness. I wish we had a different ending, that I would have been the one to capture his heart…but given who he really is, it really is for the best because this is the guy I would be going to jail for.

It’s taken a minute to untangle me from this mess and yes, I am still struggling but keeping the focus off me this time. This is truly PC’s shit and I am swallowing bitter pills that I don’t have to. I do wish him great things: I hope he does get to relocate and be with the ones he loves and wants to be with; I hope he loves and is loved in return, happy, successful…I hope he grows up and does not unnecessarily hurt others. I want for him what I want for myself and everyone else: to be happy, loved and in love and secure in all ways. That is either the bigger person or the fool in me coming through, but his misery will not improve me or my situation. Only me, Acceptance and healing can do that. So, this concludes this week’s meltdown…thanks for being there. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading, and as usual…enjoy your day!


When I sit down to write my blog posts, I pretty much know what I want to say and how I want to present it..even the brutally honest ones. Sometimes, it is as if the words just fly from my fingers and my brain is trying hard to keep up. Sometimes it takes forever to write them because I do not want my thoughts in print. I do not want to face them and do not want people to know just how twisted, lost and what a MESS I am. But I always know which direction I want the post to go. And today’s post is no different but I am listening to Annie Lennox, smoking cigarettes and alone with my thoughts…so what I WAS going to write and what will actually be written will be two different things.

Are there do-overs in Lent because I have made a mess of this one. Now I remember why I do not observe it….I totally suck at it. Three days I lasted on the PC front….then I was sending emails and texting job leads again…a couple for here in DC but the rest for Utah and California. I want to say I don’t know why, that my crazy has taken on a helpful/enabler persona but I do know why I did it. It was a combination of things. First, I will never for the life of me figure out how I became the villain in this story, which is a little disconcerting. I pride myself on being the Queen of Fucked-Upness. Fucked up behaviors, fucked up thinking, identifying the various levels and classes of fucked upness and being able to relate…that is my arena. This is fucked-upness on a brand new level (unknown to me or any of my Panel members)and for no reason at all. So this hits me when I am in a funky, edgy mood along with the thoughts of what he did to me a second time, how he would rather lie and be a coward when growing a pair and telling the truth would save everyone so much grief…you know I went there. I fired off a missive telling him exactly what I thought of him, his actions…just everything. And then I translated it into Spanish before sending it to him…figured he has trouble comprehending the English language. I felt good doing it, do not regret doing it and I have to pat myself on the back…each man brings out a certain creativity in me….but this? This was epic and garnered me high fives and praise from Panel members. One other thing I am feeling good about is I am not begging him back…the words reset, sorry and please are not in my vocabulary where he is concerned.

Yet, after sending the Letter in Spanish, I was sending job leads and even sent an email telling him how much I missed him, how I was trying to process and close the door on us but I cannot come back when he is so indifferent, so disrespectful, so distant. Of course, there was no response…whatever the reasons are, they are locked within him and honestly, I do not want apologies or explanations. I really don’t. I want him to give me actions, efforts and to show me sincerity, show me that it really wasn’t a lie, that he felt the connection and understanding I did. I want to be shown that it wasn’t all a house of cards built on lies. I already know the situation is back to the forefront because I no longer have a distraction….Calvin Klein, the workday chat partner has a wife, five kids and a Chinese girlfriend…and was texting me after hours. We had started texting in the evenings as well as during the day and that made me uncomfortable. I know me: I am vulnerable and wanting love, attention and affection on a level so deep it is beyond a need…it is a craving. I would twist Calvin’s (hopefully) innocent intentions into something else to obsess about and analyze and even with CK’s baggage piled to the ceiling and red flags waving madly in my face…I would tell myself he and I can step it up and I would be okay and when I wasn’t would say it was his fault because he crossed the line first.

So , I am left alone with my thoughts and I am not sure…I just feel like even though PC came into my life twice on a foundation of lies and evasiveness and none of this is my fault (unless you count falling for and believing in PC even after finding out he was a liar and cheater), that there was something I could have done or said to have prevented this. I feel like even though there is nothing left to say, I keep remembering to say something I forgot to tell him. Whether that something is good, bad or indifferent makes no difference. I feel as if there is something with me and that this is my fault…not sure if it is my self-centeredness or my control issues driving this thought. Yes, I am hurt and disappointed; yes, I am angry and a little bitter; yes, I am bewildered and confused and I feel less than…I am so many wonderful, amazing things yet, the men I want always want someone else. And the someone elses are always (to me) beneath both me and them, but I am biased so do not put too much stock in that. Although an unemployed chick mistaken for a fat, black hooker and a non English speaking babysitter (both with children) make me wonder what I am doing wrong and maybe single parenthood and government assistance could still be in my future so I can land what I think is my dream man. Believe me, I am not comparing myself to others or even trying to downgrade them, but when I look at what I bring to the table versus what I see they bring….words fail me.

Is it true that sometimes you really can be too much for someone, could I honestly be too much of a good thing for someone? I doubt it: I have crazy to spare, emotional issues out the wazoo, control issues run rampant, and I think too much, fall too hard and letting go is (apparently) not in my vocabulary. But maybe I am some sort of too good to be true woman: attractive enough, funny, intelligent, common sense, truthful, generous, good cook, accommodating, attentive, affectionate, gainfully employed….I know I have expectations and standards but it is only because I offer all I am asking and Lord knows, I have been known to lower everything to make something work. And it never does work out for me, which could be a blessing. I think I see long term/big picture but my Higher Power sees so much further and farther than I do. It’s just that I am sososososososo tired of opening myself up, being the best woman I can be and still ending up with the shit end of the stick. I am tired of hurting and crying and obsessing and wondering and being the one left behind and having never existed. I want a happily ever after…is that too much to ask for? Is it? Apparently, it is.

There is more to say but I will put it in another post…this one has ended up being more truthful and painful (to me) than expected. Going to wipe my eyes and get started with my day…errands to run, laundry to wash and TV shows to catch up with. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

40 Days

Life rolls on, moving forward and I am doing my best to keep up and follow suit. Thoughts of revenge and retaliation have fallen by the wayside…no longer worrying about comeuppance or harming/hurting. God forgives, and so did I (no way will this be forgotten though) …besides, Karma will set things right. I have even deleted PC/CP’s contact information from my phone. New Mommy says that is a big step, but really, it isn’t. I have it all memorized …full name, birth date, phone number, home address. And backed up to my Outlook contacts. Trust me when I tell you the gesture is symbolic. I think what makes it so difficult for me to just accept who the man is now is because in addition to falling for him, I believed and believed in PC. Believe is defined as having confidence in the truth, the existence or the reliability of someone or something…..and because of how he presented himself, how before Utah/MG, he never gave me a reason to doubt. Never. And I have never had belief in a man before…I wanted to have it, I tried to have it but it just wasn’t there. With PC, for awhile…it was. Now I am wondering how I ended up the villain in his story and questioning his choices and decisions. All I can say is I had hopes and expectations both for him and of him and wanted more for the man than what he wants for himself.

Then I hit upon an idea which will probably sound silly, sacrilegious and won’t work but anything is worth a shot. Got the idea from Artsy Craftsy and Girlfriend…Girlfriend is giving up chocolate and sodas for Lent, Artsy Craftsy is trying to figure out what to give up for Lent and while I have never observed Lent, I decided I would give up PC (and all that entails) for Lent. Strange I know…who gives up a person for Lent? Lent is all about sacrifice and resisting temptation…I think PC fits the criteria, or rather my pursuit of answers for what is simply crappy behavior from an obvious asshat fits the criteria. It is time to stop the self torture for good, time to stop pissing myself off…what is meant for me won’t miss me. It knows exactly where I am. And then I went a step further: I decided to also give up the ads, the pursuit of men, sex and personal relationships. Now that is a sacrifice… I need attention and affection the way babies need milk. I did have some incentive in giving up the ads for awhile…I had the strangest incidents happen.

This is going to sound so far out there but it was simply too many coincidences to not piece it together the way I did: two guys within two days of each other. One was named Ted, the other Tad. Both were white, divorced and 6’3”…three qualities PC/CP possesses. One was from Utah (where his parents are) with a fondness for Mexican food (need I say more?) and the other was from NC, close to where MY parents live (a fact PC/CP is aware of). Both said I was beautiful without ever seeing my face, one said I could make a rag look sexy (such a PC phrase…remember a piece of bread would be a feast if shared with me), both wanted an extended session, both wanted to establish a connection and both wanted to do something special for me (a gift like perfume or lingerie) and both wanted kinky sex with some roleplay thrown in. Tad (from NC) even wanted us to meet first so we could talk and if I didn’t like what he had to say, I could walk away, no hard feelings. And they both disappeared after a day of conversation. I have been in this game off and on for longer than I care to count and to get two guys with the same traits, same turns of phrases, same wants/desires and same method of flaking within two days of each other? Factor in Utah, Mexican food and a desire to have a mysterious conversation …not sure what else I am supposed to think.

Thinking this is what I need to finally settle down and focus on ME and my medical condition. There is so much more to this diabetes: in the past week, Chinese food damn near sent me into another episode after spiking my blood sugar to the level it was when I had the first one. This is going to be the biggest change/adjustment that I can see so far….having to be conscious of everything that I eat, and realizing that some things I love and adore will have to either be eliminated or become the very rare treat. Cheeseburgers, French fries, fruit, pizza, oatmeal, sandwiches, cookies, cakes, pies, spaghetti, yogurt, potatoes, sodas…it has all become a strategy. What I eat at one point during the day determines/affects what I can eat later in the day. A day of healthy eating yields blood sugar levels scary high while a day of regular eating has me in the normal/safe zone. There are carbs in everything save proteins, water, unsweetened tea (very different from diet tea) and water…so when planning my 3-5 servings of carbs per meal I have to factor in the entire meal, drink included. I have found some tasty treats that are allowable: kettle corn (so far my favorite with its blend of salt and sweet), plain cake doughnuts and popsicle although somebody please save me from sugar free pudding…it tastes like tepid tap water. Also have to factor in all kinds of things also affect blood sugar levels …things like colds, hormones, menstrual cycles, smoking, exercise levels…too many things. I am sure I will get the hang of it eventually, but right now…it’s a problem.

And I have had mood swings so ridiculous, I think I need to check myself into a psych ward. Crying spells that last an hour, anger and rage so intense, I scared my team at work and an upbeat mood swing that felt totally…”false” and practically manic. My period has returned after being on hiatus since Thanksgiving, my goiter has damn near disappeared and I have feeling in /on my left side but only from shoulder to thigh…and it hurts. My feet tingle and feel as if they are asleep the majority of the time, my legs still spasm and give out on me and the meds give me nightmares and strange dreams. I am not complaining though…. there is always a price to pay. Always. And usually the bill comes due long after we have forgotten the debt. So looking at the diabetes as payment time for half a lifetime of drug abuse, hard partying and overindulgence in good food. I just have to take each day as it comes and sometimes, each hour as it comes (those mood swings are random and show up at the most inopportune times)…stability is not a strong point for me right now. Take that last statement anyway you want.

So while I will probably fail at my Lent offering, it will not be for lack of trying. As you have read, I have more than enough to keep me occupied and focused while I try to stabilize both myself and my blood sugar levels. But that won’t stop my stupid, stupid heart…mark my words. Better yet, check back and find out. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

Life After

I am sad…over a lot of things concerning this breakup. Sad that Prince Charming really was too good to be true; sad that he was too cowardly and did not trust me enough to tell the truth; sad that PC/CP went away and sent Horny Toad in his place…no one likes Horny Toad. And sad that I still miss the memory of who he was and still want him back. Where is my self-respect, where is the confident woman who does not need a liar, cheater and coward? I woke up from a nightmare one night and all I wanted was to pick up the phone and talk to PC/Daddy…but I didn’t. I couldn’t because that man no longer exists…whoever is occupying that body now does not give a flying fuck about me. I don’t know if that man loves MG, thinks any contact with me is being unfaithful, if he told her about us and now he is forbidden to speak to me, if he feels guilty/ashamed of his actions and stays away because of that or if this simply a passive aggressive FUCK YOU. Going with the passive aggressive approach because even if the man is confused, he has not forgotten respect and decent treatment. What I do know is I do not/cannot trust him, actions (or lack thereof) speak louder than words, I must be naturally stupid and a masochist thinking that missing out on being an online side piece is something to be sad about and I deserve so much better. However, knowing and believing are two different animals.

While moving on and letting go should be the most natural thing in the world given his incredible ridiculousity and previous lessons learned when it comes this stuff, it has not been easy. What with my letting go/supa-sav-a-bro tendencies, multiple issues and the fact that I am totally convinced Prince Charming will return (like in all those feel good, happy ending movies I watch) because he was the one who was different, amazing and the one I thought could/would love me…I have sent a job lead or two even though I know I shouldn’t. Even though I am done. Yes, I know it is a waste of time as the man will make his moves wherever and with whoever when he is ready to do so, and frankly does not need a job to do so. At least this time I am not begging him to return and it isn’t about pride or respect… as much as I miss PC and miss (even more) what he offered me before I found out the Mexican Girlfriend was in the picture, he is stupidity.com at the moment and I have a sinking feeling that this guy is the real PC/CP.

But I have been keeping busy and putting efforts towards #TeamMe. I have been on a shopping spree…swear, between my freezer/fridge/cabinets and my closets (clothes, shoes, toiletries) I am on my way to being on Hoarders: Borderline Edition. My closets are beyond bursting point, I can barely close my freezer door and there is maybe a 2 inch square of space left in my fridge. I know I am overdoing it but at this point (4 failed relationships in a row…I MUST be unlucky in love) I need to feel pretty, sexy, desirable and worthy. I think lots of stuff will do that and if nothing else, it does take my mind temporarily off the current situation. On the upside, the next guy is going to have the most fashionable, best smelling diabetic in the DC area who shall prepare him amazing meals.

Speaking of diabetes, I am doing super well with my sugar levels although I think I may be overdosing on insulin (not by much though). I use the flex pen which I preset to the desired amount of units (10) but when I push the button, my preset button moves. Not sure if it is supposed to do that so I inject myself again, but have found out it IS supposed to move so I’m good. And not dead. I am finding out what drives the sugars up (chocolate has turned against me…my levels raise by 45-60 points every time. That hurts almost as badly as PC/CP’s turnabout) and keeping my sugars in the 120-mid 130s range, day and night. Feeling is still being restored (very slowly) to my left side but sexual dysfunction is still very much prevalent. However, I am realizing that there is more to this condition than just watching what you eat and I will get more into that in my next blog post.

There are no distractions…it is both a blessing and a curse. It is good in the fact that I more than likely need time alone to heal, work on me and my issues, teach myself acceptable and unacceptable behaviors and treatments and just…be. Being single can be fun and flirty and I am happy by myself, with myself once I shed the baggage. It is bad because in the beginning of a breakup, I so do not want to be alone. Especially when I am left because of/for other women…I see them being happy and go lucky and forgetting me, while I am stuck ALONE with tears, a broken heart and obsessive thoughts. I want/need attention, sexual adventures..someone to take my mind off the fact that I am a reject. And once again, at this point, I do not think I could find a distraction if it were as easy as finding the haystack in the needle. I have put the ads back up and all the responders have been flakes, fakes or so idiotic I did not even bother to respond. Like the guy who flat out refused to send a picture citing privacy reasons but said he would meet in public (maybe it’s me, but a public meeting kind of defeats the purpose of privacy) yet, I am a bitch for not sending my picture. I have responded to ads looking for chat partners, dinner partners, etc. and that is even more of a bust. The guy who lived near my job, arranged a meet and greet and fifteen minutes before the date, flaked because a poker game would get cancelled if he didn’t show up. The 63 year old man who was a foot shorter than me and used words so big, they don’t even fit in the dictionary…and his voice grated my ears. He sounded nasal, whiny and I could just see a date with him being as strange and surreal as the one I had with the cross-dresser, not to mention beyond boring since I would not understand what the hell he was talking about.

Oh, yours truly was submitted for a perm job…in Oregon. When I think of places to live, Oregon is like Wyoming or Idaho…it simply does not register. I probably won’t get the position (just being realistic), but it is a distraction of a different kind. It actually has me kind of excited…it is 3 hours away from Seattle, my personal tarot card reader is there and Oregon is a beautiful state. Have been looking at apartment homes out there and found an amazing 2 bed/2 bath for less than $1000. There is public transportation, they have grocery stores I am familiar with (Safeway, Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s) and their Craigslist board is pretty entertaining. Not too worried about friends or making them…I am likable, personable and somewhat social…I will make friends. I am just not long term dating material, have bad timing and poor chat skills. Obviously.

There are other things I have been doing: applied to be on some reality TV show about the difficulties tall women face while dating, started reading my beloved murder mysteries again, found a new chat buddy I call Calvin Klein (it’s a reference to Back to the Future, a favorite movie of both of ours) being domestic (although my apartment looks like who did it and why right now), enjoyed a couple of snow days and gave myself a homemade haircut. Just little things but they make me feel normal, not so alone and helps curb the thoughts and Facebook stalking. Just trying to get over this blindside as quickly as possible and hoping I do not get as immersed in the next one…my first flags will be too much attention and the too good to be true feelings. I will just be glad when I can clear my mind and heart of PC/CP and stop thinking so much. Need to remember sometimes even when everything goes right and you do all the right things….it can still go so horribly wrong and to even consider another chance with him is the equivalent of giving him a loaded gun to make sure he finishes me off. But if he caught me on the right day, at the right time with the right words…I just may be up for a game of Russian Roulette. Maybe. I am struck by a quote from Sylvia Plath: “I desire the things which will destroy me in the end”….Sylvia Plath killed herself; suicide (physical or emotional ) is not on my to-do list or my bucket list. Getting better, moving forward and finding a nurturing, reciprocal love with someone who wants to be in my heart as much as I want to be in theirs all are. And the journey continues….

As usual, thanks for stopping past and reading and as always…enjoy your day!