Other People’s Drama

It is a an absolutely gorgeous Sunday….and I have been nothing but a lazy, slothful lump of nothing. In between sleeping, I ate and used the bathroom simply because I had to. Now trying to do some light housekeeping while I wait for dinner to cook and Once Upon a Time to come on. Are you readers watching that show? It is AMAZING! And the current storyline incorporating the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz is sheer genius! Oh, in case you were wondering, AFO (if he was being honest) is in Germany and we did not see each other. My plan worked as I knew it would. I may not know how to draw the exes back but I sure know how to keep them away. There are blog posts I want to write…I want to tell you guys about the internal, emotional stuff going on with me, I want to talk about the Secret Lover and also talk about how Dottie and I are getting along (mishaps all around), but I need to find the right words, the right tone and figuring out how to make my full blown obsession with Prince Charming sound sane and reasonable. So today’s posting is a filler…a tiding over, if you will and will probably be the craziest, most entertaining in a dark way post you would have read in a long time. Sister Someone and Brother Everything have nothing on this dude.

It is an email from the 70 year old guy who answered my ad well over a year ago. I think I mentioned him in passing because he simply has no idea what the HELL to say out of his mouth…remember he said I was well over 400 pounds and needed a dentist. The following week, he told me he was falling in love with me. And while he was sweet (he paid handsomely, brought me cartons of cigarettes, doughnuts for me and Honeybee and once when I was sick, he brought me a plant and some chicken soup), I could not deal with him. I know I am anal retentive…everyone knows this, and he pushed my buttons every.time. He always wanted to take dumps in my bathroom, and this is me: going #2 in another person’s house is PERSONAL. I have to really know you and like you to allow your vilest odors to permeate my apartment…unless you are a child. Add to this the fact that the man once had skid marks on the FRONT of his underwear (which tells me he does not wipe well) and you want to lay your naked ass ANYWHERE in my place…no, not happening. We eventually stopped seeing each other because he was tired of abiding by my rules and that I would not see men on a constant basis; I got tired of having my rules questioned and constantly telling him that I did not need his help with who to share my body with.

See, The Old Man was into the paid arrangement lifestyle not for the convenience but for the lifestyle itself. He wanted a true working girl…the chick where this is her fulltime job and she is proud to be a turnstile. And he found her…she is a five foot, three hundred pound, heroin and methadone addicted chick who was working out of a truck stop motel. She shared the room with her heroin addicted boyfriend and his brother…they would be in one bed while she turned tricks in the other…and this is one hard working hooker. She had men in the bed, on the phone and knocking on the door all at the same time. According to The Old Man, she was in love with him…she shaved his pubic hair, she gave up a $5000 date to a White House dinner for his $100 offering and Eliot Spitzer himself (former New York governor and now CNN celebrity) wanted to whisk her away to a condo where she would be all his. But she told Eliot she could not leave The Old Man. I am not kidding.

So this email is an update from The Old Man about his relationship with the Hard Working Hooker…enjoy it and I will be back soon with new posts. As always…thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

Hi ,
Hey , are you home? Can you talk on the phone? My life is all weird now . It would take pages to explain . N is back in Maryland . Her stay in West Virginia was a disaster so I arranged for her to stay with a woman friend of mine and she will move into a group home in rockville ,get medical treatment with Medicaid , get off methadone maybe and stop escorting and maybe we will have a non sexual relationship because she views me as a father figure (according to the woman who is acting as her mentor) . And I may have a sexual relationship as well as friendship with Nicole’s mentor . R the mentor is very sick with fibromyalgia , epilepsy , legally blind but a very uninhibited lover. We decided to be friends with benefits one time before N moved in with her . N does not know about r’s relationship with me .
Boy am I screwed up

This guy who she thought could take care of her lived in a trailer with junk and dirty clothes all over it . The hot water heater and the toilet broke down and she was freezing because the coal stove did’t take care of the leaky trailer walls and floors . The guy was always broke and didn’t drive so he couldn’t help her to get to the methadone clinic 20 miles away. Then I sent her money to see a crooked doctor who set her up with a months supply of methadone that she was going to sell part of to make some living expenses. But all the methadone was stolen while she was staying at the house of her late ex husbands sister so she was forced to buy pills on the street for $20 a day . Guess where that money came from .And her ex boyfriend told social security that she was working as an escort and staying in a $2000 a month motel . So her Ssi and food stamps were cut off . Ex Boyfriend was her trustee and money was sent in his name . And she couldn’t even turn tricks in West Virginia because everybody was on welfare and didn’t have any money until the first of the month and then they paid off their utilities and cell phone . N could’t afford her cell phone and the guy didn’t have long distance service . The town where they lived had a gas station , a post office and a Subway restaurant .

Anyway when she said she was going to north Carolina to live with her mentally disabled sister and the sisters alcoholic boyfriend we decided it was time for her to move into a group home in rockville where me and r could help her get social services and medical care . R took her to her internal medecine doctor yesterday and a neurologist today . R set her up with health insurance and is getting her to cut down on cigarettes, Mountain Dew and meat to try to get N’s seizures and High blood pressure under control.

So it’s going to be a long uphill battle but mama r and daddy me make a good team . Meanwhile I’m visiting my daughters in Boston and Maine until Sunday night and Monday I ca start repaying r for the money she put out on her credit card for prescriptions and taxis to the doctors .
I’m not too worried about R since she is much more disciplined than I am and makes saving people her life’s mission . But if N doesn’t shape up real fast R will drop her. And I can’t manage it on my own because R provides my cover story .

I was reaching the end of my rope with N when she was living in a motel and in West Virginia because she was blowing thru money so fast
But now she should be able to manage on social services.
My worry now is that when N gets into a group home she will be influenced by the other women that are on drugs and doing sex to pick up drugs or even buy cigarettes . I’m going to see if I can get her into some kind of volunteer work or part time job to give her a focus.

Pray for us😇😇

Bee’s Knees

I have seen my Secret Lover again….that is twice in one week. That is a little scary as we do not see each other like that. He came in bitching and moaning about both work and home…that is even scarier…we leave the outside world on the other side of the door. He came bearing food because when he called to ask what I was doing, I said about to heat dinner; he said he would be over in ten minutes and to hold off. And when we did the deed, he started worshipping me and saying he wanted every inch of me…and that was the scariest of all because we don’t do any of these things. Food comes when I request it, not because he is thoughtful; we do not vent to each other about things…that is why he has a girlfriend and I have a Panel. And he never worships me…sex is playful, fun and quick, not slow, sensual and wanting inches of each other. Not going to worry about it now, but I see a blog post about the man in the near future, along with some analysis.

You know, I rarely talk about my Independent Contractors. The ones who would be full time Panel members if it weren’t for busy schedules. Not because they are not important or because my friendship with them is one of convenience but because so many of them do behind the scenes work that I sometimes tend to take for granted. They are the ones who put me in a position to be able to blog fearlessly, to face the ugly realities and make me want to tackle the tough issues that block the road to health and freedom…at least emotionally. Trust me, keeping me presentable for public presentation is a 24/7 job and I need front lines, back lines and life lines all around. Busy Bee is one of the members who plays whatever position is needed at the moment..she’s flexible like that. Today’s love letter to her is seriously overdue and I hope she realizes how much I do and always have appreciated her friendship, her sistership and her just being a part of my life, period. The title of this post comes from an old expression and the story behind the expression is this: when bees flit from flower to flower the nectar sticks to their legs. The phrase “bee’s knees” means sweet and good, because the knees of the bee are where all the sweet, good stuff is collected. Enjoy the letter and check back soon for new blog posts. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!

My Dearest, Busiest Bee:

When did we become friends? When did friendship turn into family? I have no idea…all I know is you were younger than I am now and in the beginning, it was just me, you and Morning Person. If Morning Person was my faith when I had non, nothing and no one…you were my love. You were the one with the hand outstretched, telling me that I didn’t have to be the person I was, I didn’t have to live the way I was. You were the one who kept telling me that there was something better and there was a bed waiting for me when I was ready. You were the one that burst into tears of happiness
when my first steps into recovery were made. You are beautiful, strong, intelligent and all the things I say I am…you actually are.

You are so incredibly laid back and easy going, it is jaw dropping and awe inspiring. Whereas I need an adjustment period for a change of plans, all you need to do is switch shoes and purses and it is that way with everything with you. You have a knack for adapting to anything because you are the one with a Plan B and a Plan C. You have a flexibility, a go-with-the-flow demeanor that transcends strength and acceptance…when life throws curve balls and slings mud, you take it in stride without blinking. Our friendship has seen the loss of your mother, brother, two heart surgeries for you and now, the loss of your father. But no one would ever know your hurt and pain, let alone the depth of it. You have doubts and disappointments like all of us, but only a select few know these. You are the woman who puts on the good face, faces life and the world with confidence and a smile, all while preparing yourself for the next step in the journey. And you welcome whatever it is, be it good or bad.

Your generosity is incredibly selfless…while I give materially (money, gifts) to friends, family and charities, you give your time and of yourself to your community, your family and to anyone who needs you. You are the one who tells me when I am attaching too much importance to the unimportant stuff; you are the one who tells me that I will be happy again and probably happier once I clear the clutter of exes from my personal life. You are the one who reminds me when work gets frustrating that I CAN change that…don’t like it, get another one. You simplify the complicated and remind me that nothing in life is that hard that it cannot be accepted, overcome and dealt with…and without resorting to old habits. You are the slogan: You can do it!! on two feet.

If you were music, you would be a remixed hybrid of Erykah Badu meets Fleetwood Mac: mellow, earthy, sensuous and wrapped in truth. We share a love of shopping and an appreciation of kink. You always tell me the truth, no matter if I won’t like it and damned how it comes out. You do not sugar coat or try to break it down….here it is, figure it out. And I love you for that. Hell, I love you for so many reasons and things…you were sent into my life for a reason and a lifetime. I learn from you all the time, my admiration for you is never ending and our friendship (and you) mean more to me than you will ever know. Now slow down long enough so the Three Musketeers can take a weekend road trip to Ocean City for crab legs and outlet shopping!

Stupid White Men

There is an expression I use when it comes to asking the Lord for strength in times of utter stupidity and ridiculosity. I got it from a Stephen King novel…”It”, to be exact. That expression is: Sweet Jesus, come please us and if THIS incident was not a time to use it, I do not know what was. AFO has resurfaced…after telling me he would NEVER again make the mistake of being with me, and never again in LIFE would I hear from him. (I reached out after finding out about PC and the MG…and AFO slammed the door dead in my face) What could one have to say after an ending like that? Well, the man says he is being shipped to Germany for three years. I’m like…okay…see ya. He says he would like to see me again..not sexually…but he wants to give me a massage to make up for being such a tool. I am going to let you guys read the email for yourself (it is actually two emails condensed into one) before getting into today’s post.

The Email: Robin,
I am headed to BWI on my way to Germany for the next three years, so I will be traveling through DC, if you would be interested in seeing me before we go. I will be traveling with my dog, so I will have to drop him off at the hotel before coming over to see you. This would not be a sexual thing, just a massage for you to make up for being such a tool .I will be traveling through on 25 April. I am staying the night in Atlanta on 24 April and then driving through DC to BWI on 25 April, flying out late 26 April to Germany. Because of our history, I am willing to make a reasonable donation but need to know if you still have the white socks and strapon?

Two things stand out to me from this email…first, he wants nothing sexual but needs to know if I still have the two things that turn him on and get him off sexually and the second is how he loves to refer to our “history”. Apparently, we were in different relationshits (not a typo) because my recollection of our history is that I treated him wonderfully while he treated me like shit; he said things that were unnecessary and untruthful when all I asked for was honesty and respect. I remember reaching out in caring, friendship and sincerity and being stonewalled. The way I see it, if you want to base things on our history, hand me a loaded gun because you have been walking the earth far too long without me putting a bullet in your brain. And not just AFO…we can toss Him and PC/CP in there too…and I still have no idea why. Maybe I should give up white men….mine have all been stupid, cowardly and give ridiculous a brand new meaning.

Trust is described thusly: reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; a person on whom one relies, and we trust in so many people and things every single day. We trust that our car or public transportation will safely deliver us to work and home again. We trust that the other drivers on the road are both insured and paying careful attention to other vehicles. We entrust our children and their safety to schools, teachers and daycare workers every day. We trust our neighbors, coworkers (to a certain degree) and when we eat out we are trusting the wait staff does not spit in our food and drinks…so why is it the ones we love and trust the most hurt us the most? My trust issues are deeply rooted and for me to feel I can trust you with the really deep, dark stuff…the stuff that makes me tick and act the way I do when my masks fall off..let’s just say if I trust a man, he either did a lot of work to get me there or I felt/found him to be different, special and worth the efforts of wrestling with the issues to set them aside.

Yet, these men have all violated my trust in even the most of basic of things. I understand that people put their best everythings forward in the dating game…but with AFO and Prince Charming..it did not even start out that way; the entire point of a paid arrangements is so neither party HAS to go through this bullshit, and while AFO’s agenda is pretty clear (free pussy anytime he’s in town), still no clue what PC’s agenda was…he has a an entire gaggle of folks across the country he can control and text with. I do not understand why men think I am lying or playing a form of reverse psychology when I tell them up front to just be truthful: seriously, all I want is a fair chance with the person and to be able to make a decision based on all the facts. Not sure if they think I am taking the mind game a step further, if their trust issues are worse than mine or if they are just that freaking, ignorantly stupid that they think a lie is better than the truth. See, in active addiction, I was the chick who lied, stole and was untrustworthy…the one who if left in my parents’ house alone, was locked out of everything except the bathroom and kitchen (they had to let me eat and use the bathroom); I am the chick who used to have to hide out because f it wasn’t nailed down, I was hauling it away. The one no one wanted to be around and the chick who could not tell a repeat customer when she was on her period because that meant missing out on money, which meant missing out on a crack rock. You could not believe one word that passed my lips. I am no longer that person and refuse to be her again. Being trustworthy is a responsibility and one I hope I carry very well. Silly me, I tend to think everyone realizes that being trustworthy is part of being a responsible adult.

The rub in all of this is that when I SEE, when these men SHOW me that they are liars, cowards, untrustworthy…I STILL hang around hoping for I have no idea what. Hell, in PC/CP’s case, I not only chased the man down the first time, I gave out gifts when he did it AGAIN. Obviously, I have zero idea when to leave or what it is I REALLY want…I say no lies, no games, no disrespect and every time I get that…I agonize that it is me who caused it and all I want is the source of the hurt back. The other thing is, these men move on and see me pitching tents in their front yards, see me spiraling out of control and making a fucking fool of myself…and they do absolutely nothing. They don’t say anything, they don’t do anything. Please know I am not ready to face, ponder or tackle anything said or any issues/red flags raised in this paragraph…let’s just say that my white men aren’t the only stupid ones and the crazy boat just got a little bit bigger for all involved.

So these are the thoughts that an email from AFO raised…definitely a lot of food for thought and lots for dissection at some point. But back to AFO…the Panel says I need to respond with a huge, resounding NO. I say just ignore the man the way he does me, but we all know that will not work. Hell, telling him NO won’t work..when he gets a bug up his ass, he does not mind begging and groveling. So I will respond and hit him where it hurts…his wallet. The man is cheap as hell, and putting a higher than normal price tag on my ass will shut him up real quick. Hopefully, this post was not too convoluted and made some kind of sense to someone other than myself. Check back soon for new posts and the love letter to Busy Bee.

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

Saving Grace

Hello, Readers. I am ready to give up the ghost and succumb to my natural destiny: becoming a Crazy Cat lady spinster. As of today, I am 90% officially a Crazy Cat Lady In Training (CCLIT). I have most of the basics: crazy and female; I do not have the cats yet, but that is a mere technicality. I think the secret to being a successful Crazy Cat Lady lies in an attitude of disillusionment, the air of defeat, despair and bitterness and a hatred for most things male. I did not make the decision to almost fully surrender to my destiny lightly but with my track record in love, my trust issues firmly in place and my week of crazy other men…what else is a woman to do? Factor in that being single, childless, gainfully employed, having a semblance of class and proper use of English and grammar are now deterrents instead of assets…I see no other future for me other than being a Cat Lady. Read on to find out what helped me reach this point and what holds me back from fully surrendering.

Not sure if I can be termed persistent, hopeful or flat out stupid/crazy but I keep.on.trying. Not with PC/CP…we are over and done (just need my heart to catch up with my head) but in my pursuit of meeting someone new, interesting and who will get me and want to keep me for the long term. Of course, I know it starts with meeting, building and connecting…and to that end, I posted yet another ad on Craigslist. I was headed to Columbia Heights to pick up my insulin (more on that story in another post) and had a groupon to Z-Burger and wanted some company. Generally, I eat alone all the time: at home, at work and when I am out and about, but that day was so nice and sunny…I wanted to share it with someone. Hence, the ad…I met two and half men from the ad.

The first guy (who ended up sharing the meal with me) was young (my age range specified 38-55 and he was 30), decent looking and had interesting but dark stories to share. He is ex-military, works as a chef, has a roommate and is a single father…and that is when all thoughts of anything beyond the meal went out the window. A roommate AND a child? I complain about men but I am just as fickle and turncoat….my interest dissipated immediately and all I wanted to do was leave. Of course, being a man, he texted me later to say it seemed I didn’t want to go. I let him believe it and told him I thought he was good company but I was tired, busy and really did not have time to pursue even the most basic of things. He says he just wants to have sex with a black woman and all I have to do is lay there. NEXT!

The half man was some dude who responded 3 days later and did not want to give his age and status which raised immediate flags….turns out he is 60, married and of course, lonely. Says he wants a platonic friendship with a BBW but he kept asking me my dress size, my bra size and wanted to talk about how things taste/feel in his mouth. That is simply too creepy for me. I told him I was NOT interested and maybe he needed to look elsewhere. He still emails everyday asking me to give him another chance. NEXT!

The second guy…we talked for three days straight. He answered the ad five days into it and said he would enjoy treating me to a meal if I provided good conversation. He is 43, 6’3”, white and single. He lives quite outside the city and says he has no children, no girlfriend and is in no rush to become non-single just because he is single. He seemed interesting and interested and there were no lapses in conversation and also, no overdosing on conversation either. Until the conversations stopped. No warning, just stopped. NEXT!

Anyone here remember Ted, the guy from Utah who loved Mexican food and was coming to town for business and wanted to meet, but then disappeared after a one day conversation? I swore the man was PC, and I still think so. See, Ted has resurfaced with an email and an internet picture and calling me a “piece of heaven”, the exact phrase PC used in a FB comment to MG. Below is his email (typos and all) to which my only response was he got all that from a one day conversation? I have to say, I am with some Panel members that PC just would not put forth the effort to deceive me in an effort to return, but how scary is it to know that there are two of him out there and they both found me? If he isn’t PC, this dude is officially perverted and crazy…he actually thought I would be flattered that he told me he jerks off to my pictures placed in the ad.

The Email: “I’m sorry I cut you off. Some things came up and I never got back to you. I apolygize Guilty for the way I left you. I thought we hit it off pretty good. I’m trying not to be categorized as a flake or fake. it made my day, it’s not too often I get to communicated with a sexy intelligent woman that I think is one hot mama too. always making sure others are happy….even at the expense of yourself. i’m always frisky when thinking about you. quite a bit. I think of you…then I think what would have been… i meant it in the most romantic way…i swear. i know you’re a high class women. oh my god…you are so pretty…such a classy look. why are you so perfect? i’m shocked that no one has scooped you up. i would love to get my hands on you…you are a piece of heaven…i would kiss you all over”

The ONLY grace saving me from fully surrendering to becoming a full- fledged Cat Lady is my Secret Lover….I have never talked about him because…well, he’s a secret. As he puts it: what we do between us, stays between us. Some Panel members may know about him but doubtful. This guy has been around since the last days of Married Man and he is a total sweetheart. Tall, funny, good looking, and he comes financially prepared. Because he is probably my longest running (non-related) male relationship, his offerings are a fraction of what I seek with others, but he makes up for it in other ways. We talk, we laugh, he massages the stress away and we have never had an argument. He has a live-in girlfriend and I have my life…we leave both at the door when he comes over, which is maybe twice a month. We have no demands or expectations of each other and he is one who makes me forget my need for perfection and lets me put away the control issues for a little while. He has seen me when I just wake up with my wild hair and crusty eyes, he has kissed me when I had morning breath, he is the one who will snatch the hair off my head and wear it himself. He has been with me through three relationships, a missing tooth and now Dottie. He thinks my tummy is sexy and that I am beautiful inside and out and that those other guys have NO idea what they gave up..although now they may have an inkling. I think we have lasted so long and get along so well is because we both know we don’t want a full on relationship with the other one, so there are no pressures or obligations. We do not know last names, birthdays, favorite anythings or what we do for a living. It has always been that way and guess what? It works for us.

So this is what I have been up to this week, along with working, having a phone interview for a perm job that may actually lead somewhere and catching a horrible cold. Check back soon for new posts, including a love letter to Busy Bee. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!