Making Memories

Last I talked with you, I was in a funk and ranting about the most ridiculous shit. Well, time has passed, the funk is lifted but ridiculousness is still on the table. It’s me, what do you expect?  Right now, I am looking over a job alert that was supposedly tailored just.for.me…it is with the Mormon Church. Apparently they are in need of an administrative assistant. While flattered they think I am ready to “enjoy and abide in the peace that is the Church”, their worthiness qualification (not kidding!) of me being a temple worthy Mormon kind of knocks me out the box. Google: it sees all and remembers more.

Want more ridiculousness? Although I think this is more along the lines of stupidity….I had a response to my ad. Please keep in mind the ad is placed in the escort section and the term “generous” is used several times and in bold. When the man responded, I asked him the three usual questions: age, race and did he realize financial assistance was involved? He said: 39, lightskinneded (he really said that) and YES. When he suggests meeting, I tell him what the damage is…he says: I don’t pay, I just want an occasional friends with benefits where it is all about the fun of it. I told him he definitely got lost on his way to Craigslist because why was he expecting to that find in the escort section? To spare both of us painful embarrassment, did not even get into his previous responses. Still waiting for him to answer. (Not really)

So finally…onto the post.  I had a job interview this week…it wasn’t my first choice out of the submissions, but it has the best chance to go perm and I get to feel good about the people who will be helped. But the commute will kill me. Somehow, when I hear a job is metro accessible, a train ride followed by a bus ride followed by a mile long walk down a wooded street with heavy traffic and no streetlamps to the office is not what I am thinking. I may have to play the diabetes card and cite the nerve and muscle damage I now have to try and cajole a vehicle out of my parents.  And really, I am probably being a princess about the whole thing. It pissed me off because the long walk was unexpected….a couple of weeks of making the trek to and fro and it may not even bother me.  However, I jump ahead of myself…all I have had is an interview, not an offer.

I went out with Hangout Buddy on Friday. I don’t know why…he texted, suggested we meet in Alexandria and do our usual. We would eat at Montana Grill, I could pick the movie and be in charge of popcorn. I debated it and finally said okay. It got me out the city and I wouldn’t be solo on Couple Night in DC. I did decide to wear a dress that I now fil out nicely with more curves than rolls…reasoning behind that one was last week, he treated me like one of the guys. Maybe if he saw me as a woman, he would listen and maybe treat me as a friend versus a last minute alternative to going solo and looking lame. Weird, because that is how I viewed him this time around. So I get ready and head to the metro station. I know I need a yellow line train whose destination is Huntington and I want the Eisenhower Avenue stop. So I board a yellow line train to Huntington at 6:20. And that is where my plans ended.

The train went off course….all I know is it is supposed to go to Huntington…no idea how it gets there. I do know Franconia-Springfield is NOT Huntington, and somehow my yellow line train to Huntington is in Franc-Springfield. I was livid. And hungry. I was missing dinner and the station manager had no explanation. (Of course he wouldn’t…he was not the one driving the train) Before he could open his mouth to say another word, I bullied him out of his granola bars. Dottie is a bad ass when she wants to be. After eating, I was almost calmed down, until Hangout Buddy called and made insinuations that I will get into in the next paragraph. In any case, he said he would pick me up from King Street so we could salvage the movie. (Turns out no need for that…the movie was playing to an empty auditorium when we arrived .We were the only two in the theater the entire time. At least my neck doesn’t hurt.)

At King Street, the man passed me by THREE times…claimed he didn’t recognize me in a dress and with short hair. Seriously? I said nothing because I did not want an unnecessary argument…besides I could smell the alcohol on him. Thinking too many beers blurred his vision. But, apparently, he wanted an argument. Trust me, when I am hungry and pissed (my Facebook friends call that being “hangry”) the best way to defuse the situation is NOT to tell me I am either dumb, illiterate or both and that a metro train going off course is my fault because I got on the wrong train. Was he NOT listening to me? You wanna feel my wrath? Lie to me and/or insult my intelligence. I may do stupid shit but by no means am I stupid, and if there is one thing I know, it is how to catch the metro.  I cursed a blue streak (Feisty One swears I am verbally abusive) and he just shut.up…like he should have done in the first place. And that is when I knew….Hangout Buddy’s time with me was up. It was nice and fun when I was broken, hurt and in pieces over cowardice and cruelty. But I have healed and grown since then…not completely, but enough to know that I need to be on my own schedule and it’s time to do things by myself. I no longer need my hand held or to be seen out and about with a man just to validate I am good enough. I am more than good enough. Besides, this is a man who uses the term “fuck buddy” and thinks it is a compliment.

So with all these Friday night revelations, I have no idea why I did not cancel the museum date. I did not want to go but had already bailed once and the man said meeting me was his #1 priority Saturday. The man was a mouse…gray skin, gray eyes, gray hair. His lunch choices told me some of what I needed to know: the man ordered hot tea and a plain hamburger. So, no personality there (although I kinda knew that when he sent me pictures of his dog during our email communications); conversation revealed more. The man has lived in Fairfax over 12 years and this was his first foray into DC….he had never ridden metro and thought the Smithsonian was one museum. But when he did not offer to buy my lunch even though I was getting him into the museum for under $9 (admission is $21.99), I labeled him ….and I was correct. The man was an absolute bore who was cheap to top it off. He did not interact with me at the museum; he spent tons of time poring over the details of the exhibits and we were never in the same room, ever. I was getting tired (my neuropathy was acting up), the place was crowded and filled with children and I just wanted out. And that is exactly what I did…I left the museum and went to the Portrait Gallery. By myself. And enjoyed it so very much. The Mouse did not know I was gone for 90 minutes.

I don’t know why I don’t listen to myself….I neither want nor need a man, relationship or validation. I said I was going to have a solo outing…clear my head, I said. So why did I choose to put myself through the bullshit that is what I am terming #outingswithmen? Because I wanted to make memories and for some reason I have always thought memories were made with other people. And sometimes they are, but with people you like, love and care about. My best memories do not involve men: the times in Ocean City with my girls, dinners out with friends, long conversations about everything, anything and nothing with various Panel members, the cruises I took with Mommy and Sis-Sis, the movies with my favorite aunt…those are the memories I carry with me.

And what I will remember about this past weekend, I made those memories alone. The sight of the Masonic Temple (as viewed from the King Street platform) looking like a floating castle; laughing over an inappropriately funny comment with the tourists at the Escape exhibit at the Spy museum; the photograph of the father and son hands at the Portrait Gallery that I stared at forever (I felt like Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off); the details and intricacies of a bronze sculpture, the intimacy I saw and felt in another sculpture titled Harlem Dancers.  The awe and magnificence of the Great Hall. The little Hispanic girl, once I finally arrived for my interview, who boldly showed me her toys but was sweetly shy when asked what she intended to make with them. These are the things I will remember, not the stories that accompanied them.

Okay, done for now. There is a dust explosion going on in my apartment that requires immediate action (not attention), I need to do a job search and my body is still screaming in agony over the unexpected workout a 2 mile walk gave it, so the search is on for pain pills. I will be back soon. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

Moody Blues

I am going through a depression. Not a major one but I have no energy, I am tearing up (not full blown crying spells) and feeling saddened, angry and lethargic… I am out of steam, out of ideas and listening to Ben Howard’s I Forget Where We Were album only has me thinking how wonderful it would be to drift away and leave cares and worries behind.

The sadness is over a lot of things and maybe the word is frustration but I only have the energy to muster sadness. I want to return to work. I really do: I miss the social aspect, the structure, the productivity and the pride that comes from doing a job well. On top of that, it is getting to the point I need to work. Rent is getting closer and closer and UI isn’t going to cut it. I keep submitting resumes, responding to requests to interview, following up and putting myself out there but so far, no dice. Except for the low paying telemarketing job that if I worked for at least a month would still leave me short of the full rent. Besides, once I give in to the lower salary, I will NEVER get the salary I seek.

Do you know I have two closets filled with an incredible winter wardrobe and I have not had a chance to wear any of it yet? Where am I going to wear it? The whole point of having cute clothes is so people get to see you wear them! Even the weight loss is frustrating because no one sees me except me, and while I may be eating less and healthier, I am smoking more. Up to a pack and a half a day…which is hard on Dottie and my wallet.

Everything pisses me off nowadays…everything. I try to distract myself and take mental breaks from the job search and how everything is NOT falling into place right now by keeping up with current events. Bad idea. Between mysterious fires, shootings, deaths of teenagers and random stabbings DC is entering its Wild, Wild West phase again. The American Sniper “controversies” are pissing me off: however you feel about war, our military, the War on Terror…the man had a job and he did it well. The ironic thing in all of this is how the tide has turned against Seth Rogen. A month ago, Rogen’s movie The Interview had become some sort of symbol of free speech and taking a stand against terrorism…now that the man has spoken out about The War on Terror and a military hero…he is a horrible, unfunny human being with sucky movies. Free speech is free speech, even when you don’t like what the person is saying. I don’t think anyone is ever satisfied. (I would say Americans but then someone may tell me to hightail it out of here)

I went Facebook stalking…..it was another form of distraction and to be honest, I wanted to feel something other than sadness, anger and lethargy. THAT didn’t happen…PC is selling these old, dusty and obviously very well used computer monitors for $10 apiece. Which would make sense to me if he had more than two to sell. Is he that in need of money or simply determined to reap some sort of profit? Either way, it made me sad. BUT, he took pictures of the monitors in front of a badly, disgustingly soiled mattress….and that pissed me off. First, you NEVER let folks know when you’re living foul. Seriously, I am thinking we have all had a stained mattress at some point (I know I have (not anymore) but blaming that on being a female who does female things once a month) and if not, we all have some nastiness in our lives. The point is…NO ONE KNOWS. Which begs the questions: the man could not find anywhere else in that house to position the merchandise for sale? Seriously?? And no one in that household saw anything wrong with that? Posting that picture with the stained mattress shows me (and the world) that he (and/or someone (else) in that house) is nasty and gross. I swear, the illusion he was shatters a little more each time. I was hoping it was a water stain (still making excuses because no way that that stain is anything but what it looks to be…and a LOT of it) but now just praying that the side he showed the world was not the “good” side of the mattress.

The lethargy is a combination of insomnia and being tired of sowing seeds instead of reaping a harvest. I know seasons come and go and I had a wonderful harvest for over a year; I know I am still blessed and have so much to be thankful and grateful for….but I need the stability and consistency back. I am tired of feeling a guillotine lowering on my neck with each day that passes with no news or word from potential employers.  All I want is to be stable and somewhat secure…that will help in bringing peace and allowing me to finally be comfortable. Tired of waiting for the sky to fall.

No idea what else to do, so I am going to take myself out…just me. Last week’s outing has shown me the beauty and value in solo outings.  Thinking lunch and a movie is what I need: I get fresh air, new surroundings and I get to see people that are not on a TV or computer screen. I get to escape and clear my head and start next week refreshed and renewed. Fingers crossed on that. Oh, I get to wear CUTE CLOTHES!! Finally.

Okay, done venting/ranting/getting it off my chest. Going to shower and eat dinner (I burned beans) before my Wednesday night shows come on. I will be back soon with new posts and updates, so keep checking back. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!

Of Mice and Men

Well, the second full week of January 2015 is a wrap and it was pretty much a second verse, same as the first sort of deal, except there are mice (well, a mouse) and a lot of WTFness from men. Not dates or the exes… not sure who The One for me will be, but pretty sure married men, a cheating Mormon and a Walking Mid-life Crisis ain’t it. And I really am not interested in seeing what any of them are up to. Not today anyway.

Before I break down the week that was, I have to announce that it’s official: I am finally taking action with the relocation to NC beyond searching homes for rent in what will hopefully be my price range. I have started applying to jobs in both Raleigh and Greensboro. Five to be exact; three have already rejected me (positions were already filled and website not updated), but jobs are like men: you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a prince, so I am undeterred.  Not all that keen on going to Greensboro as it is the Most Boring City in America and that is where I officially flushed my life down the toilet (yeah, we got history and not a good one at that), but I have family there and limiting myself to JUST Raleigh at this juncture may be a bit hindering.

Okay, on to the post but first, a few disclaimers. Do not believe anyone else’s version of the mouse story. My version is the only real and true version. Trust me. Regarding the updates regarding the men, I hope I am not coming off as a complainer….really, not complaining but just wanting to share the ridiculosity that they bring to my world. It could be me being a princess but doubtful. And Weekend Phone Friend says I unnecessarily man-bash when I get some of the same WTFness from women (in the professional realm) so maybe you Lovebugs can help me figure out if it is a man thing, a recruiter thing or if in addition to weirdoes, I also attract the deaf and dumb. And now…the week that was.

The Mouse: Not going to say it was huge, with fangs dripping venom or that it walked on its hind legs. It wasn’t and it didn’t. It was scrawny, cock-eyed and scared to death of my screams. BUT, it drove me crazy in less than a minute. Hell, in less than 30 seconds. Honeybee and Cuz deserve 5 Guys or something because I was up ALLLLL night long and made them keep me company. I screamed bloody murder on a constant basis, I cut on every light in the apartment, turned the volume on the TV all the way up, I cut off the heat and poured at least a gallon of bleach EVERYWHERE. I succeeded in running the mouse away and myself crazy with the self-inflicted torture…who can sleep when they are cold, lights are on everywhere, the TV is at a deafening level and the bleach fumes have you choking and loopy? And I am STILL thinking that mouse is here (he isn’t)…I no longer put packaged food on my kitchen counters: I hang my chips and cake doughnuts from the closet door in a bag. I check cabinets, drawers, packaged food already in said cabinets, cereal boxes and even the refrigerator for signs of droppings or of being nibbled/chewed on. I do not enter my kitchen after 11pm (like mice can tell time). Everyone I know tells me I am a wuss and being utterly ridiculous and I know I am, but it was VERMIN in my kitchen…at least I know I can go crazy over more than just men.

The Recruiter: Imagine you are unemployed and have your resume posted on practically every online job board; you even have email alerts set up for everything you have ever done in your professional life (except retail and fast food), and one morning you get an alert for an Editorial Assistant and you apply to the job. The next day, you get a call from the recruiter representing the client and he asks you to interview! You get dressed and even take a cab downtown so as not to get caught up in Metro and its messiness…and then you wonder if that was a good idea as the driver has no idea how to use the turn signals that come with the car. He is using hand signals (like a bicyclist would) and narrowly avoiding accidents. But you arrive safely and on time at the interview and your recruiter has pimples on his face, smells like Clearisil and toothpaste and obviously dressed himself in his father’s suit. He makes you wait, then plops you in front of the propaganda film that speaks to you as if you have never worked a day in your life and when it’s over, he makes you wait some more. THEN, he is ready to interview….except the Editorial Assistant job is non-existent. He has no answers to your questions as to why he invited you to interview for a job that is not even available, but he asks what are you looking for? So you tell him what you want…and he comes at you with an assignment that is basically telemarketing and lying and low paying. But he phrases it as “survey research” making calls to folks who WANT to talk to you and that they dispatch folks to this assignment EVERY week! Add high turnover to the list of things that this assignment has going for it. Oh, and said recruiter checks your references while you are there and uses you as an enticing tool to get your former company to sign on with their agency for their staffing needs. And that was my Thursday.

 Friday Night Hangout: I would like to think when I am not emotionally insane or erupting with pent up resentments and frustrations, I am an effective communicator. I would like to think that my suggestions are valid ones, but either I am mistaken or men are really just deaf and dumb.  Hangout Buddy is back and we decided to meet up and catch up while doing what we do best…dinner and a movie. He was blown away by my weight loss but it kinda irked me…seriously, if I am so everything now, how could I have been so everything before?? But, I shrugged it off because that’s how it is: we are all so amazing and so many positive things but somehow we are even more so with less weight. He ate the lion’s share of food at dinner which was fine with me (remember that…) and he drank quite a few beers also. I knew he liked a drink with his meals but 4 beers? Not sure if I am a prude or if he is excessive as dinner lasted at most 75 minutes. We had tickets I had the foresight to purchase beforehand for the 8pm showing of American Sniper (his suggestion as I am not a fan of either war movies or Bradley Cooper) and I suggested we start heading to the theater. Opening night of a film and a cold night in DC meant everyone and their brother would be at the movies. He shot it down….he doesn’t like getting to the movie early and how crowded could it be? Lovebugs, we were relegated to the very front row of the theater (my neck still hurts)….and got the last two seats at that. Then I said I wanted popcorn and stood up to go get it, but he insisted he would be the one to get it. I tell him I want a medium bag with extra butter, little salt and a water. He returns after standing in line for 20 minutes with a small bag of popcorn complete with no butter, extra salt and m&m’s sprinkled in. And no drink. What the FUCK is THAT? Certainly not what I asked for and he actually said: “more for me” and proceeded to eat it all. After scarfing down practically everything at dinner.  That effectively ruined the movie experience for me. Oh, and not done there….on the way home, he asks the best way back to my house…and ignored both my suggestions, stating he was going HIS way…because he is the man. His way took almost an hour and past where his ex USED to live….I am all for stalking and staking out, but you gotta keep it in the present tense. Ask my Panel…I am up to date on all the exes and no drive-bys necessary. The strange thing here is, he wants us to go out again this weekend because he apparently saw absolutely nothing wrong with this outing.

And that is the week that was…so what do you think? Am I a chronic complainer and man-basher? Am I not communicating clearly or maybe speaking a foreign language? Or is the stupidity surrounding me just off the charts? Well, it’s late (or early…4:20am) as I finish this post up, so going to hit the sheets for a few before resuming the job search and maybe tossing some laundry in the washer. As always….thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

Ready for Better

The first full week of 2015 is coming to an end and it is NOT what I thought it would be. In a way, with the incredible (in a bad way) weather we have had here in the DMV, I am kinda okay with that. Being able to sleep in and stay warm indoors beats battling snow, ice, bone chilling cold and Metro delays and breakdowns. However, dealing with recruiters who either won’t take my calls or who cannot seem to comprehend English have me frustrated. Seriously, all I ask is that any assignment I am called for pays $15-$22/hour (ideally, it would be $18-$22 but local agencies are stingy), you give me 24 hours’ notice and no day long assignments. THIS chick calls me for a half day, $11/hour assignment…TWICE! Not only am I ready to start putting things in motion for the relocation I still have rent that needs to be paid. It would be nice to have an assignment so I can start saving for the two R’s in my life: Rent and Raleigh.

Today I am going to talk about my recovery….or rather, my re-commitment to the parts of my recovery I have ignored. I don’t talk a lot about my recovery….I may as well tell you about my eyes (there are two of them and they are brown) it is that much a part of who I am now. It is both simple and intricate. Recovery is my moral compass, it is my new way of life, it has allowed me to replace what was lost to addiction, it is a sense of both gratefulness and gratitude for the opportunities that I never thought I would have. It has shown me why I have the issues and makes sense only to me reasonings I have towards men, and it has helped me uncover the root (or part of the root) cause of my addiction. And I have done an excellent job with recovery so far and maintained it, but I need do more work on myself.

Recovery lets me see I am no longer the chick who went around giving blowjobs for sandwiches, who used public alleys as bathrooms, who went months without showering or combing her hair. Hats and Doublemint gum were my hygiene regiment. I am not the chick who had menstrual cycles in her pants…no panties, no pads or tampons, not even toilet paper. Just me, Mother Nature and the pants I was wearing. And I would wear the same pair of pants for another month…dried blood and all. I am no longer the woman who wears too small shoes or oversized slippers to walk miles in her search for a crack rock…I am no longer the girl who has to sleep in abandoned cars and buildings or on the ground.  I am no longer the girl who sat outside in pouring rain, bone chilling cold or tried to turn tricks on Christmas morning.

But there are times I still feel like her, times I still see her and then I am off on another shopping spree to keep her at bay because when I am all alone, I tell myself that even though on paper I come across as confident, successful and all anyone would want in a partner/mate, coworker and friend…in real life (the true test) I am big fat zero. I know it’s wrong, but do you see me with a job or a man? I am the expendable one, personally and professionally. I am the throwaway…I am the girl I used to be…the one lost in addiction.

That girl who endured rapes, beatings and humiliations at the hands of men for a hit…not even money because the money was gone as soon as I found a dealer. I have been raped by policemen…it was normal to have to give up sex to avoid being hassled but I had the cop who totally  verbally humiliated me first, then called in a vanful of his buddies so they could have a turn with me also. I was fucking the deacon of the neighborhood church for day old pies and bread; the guy who tried to run me down because I wouldn’t perform oral on him for $5; the time I was kidnapped (he carried me to West Virginia) and raped because the man was too embarrassed to let it be known he only had $7…which I had to give back so he could put gas in the tank to return me to my corner. The time I had to jump out of a car going 80mph to avoid being shot in the head; the time I was raped anally at knifepoint and beaten with a hammer when I tried to escape. The taunts and name calling from storekeepers and shop owners during the day while at night, they wanted me on my knees for $10.

The drugs were both the source of the pain and the solution….it numbed the pain, it dulled what I saw, it erased what I knew. So now that I am in recovery and I am trying to be in relationships where I find I am lied to, disrespected, mistreated…for no reason I can fathom….I don’t have anything to numb, dull and erase…and the pain and hurt feels so….alive is the only word I can come up with. The feelings are a double edged sword because I feel the happiness, the joy, the love soooo deeply. Recovery has me in a state of emotional extremes and I don’t know how to control the good or let go of the bad…they both just kind of fall away eventually. And I need to work harder on my recovery, I need to utilize the tools and resources readily available because the hardest things to change are your thinking and your behavior. I have only done a half assed job on both.

After 12 years clean, I no longer use or even consider using to be an option, I no longer break into people’s houses to rob them. I no longer lie, I no longer shoplift. I no longer kick people’s asses when they piss me off and I no longer disrespect my parents or siblings. I am a working professional who pays for what she has and is the peacekeeper in the family. Yet, there is the selling myself…be it $10 or $100…it is a holdover behavior. I still have incredible, rage filled outbursts; I still cut to the quick with my words (but only when you have hurt me with your actions) and I don’t know how to handle being overwhelmed, angry or frustrated….and letting go and moving on? I would not recognize THAT if it wore a sign announcing itself.

As much I want to give and receive love, as much as I want to be with and belong to someone special…I have to ask if I am really ready for a relationship and is one ready for me? I sometimes wonder if my relationships (or what passes for such) are reincarnations of my addiction?  It certainly seems that first euphoric feeling is always free…the rest, a sister is hustling hard to work for and sadly, the euphoria is never the same or as intense as that first one. And talk about repeating the same thing over and over expecting a different result; while I do some things differently, it seems I end up doing them with the same person…kind of like smoking crack out of can versus the pipe or drinking scotch instead of the usual gin.

I don’t think I want a relationship with someone else, at least not now anyway… I think I just want to be understood. Forget loved, liked, respected …I think being understood by someone is the most important thing to me. Understanding can lead to respect, trust, friendship, relationships. And it starts with me understanding myself. Then…I can love myself…truly love myself. Don’t get me wrong: I like me and I pamper and treat me really well. But I talk mean to myself, I self loathe more than anyone knows and even I realize, so it is time to combine the detox and the recovery and focus on my emotional self. There is a reason they tell us recovering addicts NO relationships for at least the first year… by the time I got the news, I was ass deep with Married Man. I guess in a way this begins my first year…I’m cool with that.

For 2015, I am going to turn the negative thoughts into positive ones. I am going to say something positive to the reflection in the mirror every time I see her, I am going to like ME….the still fat tummy, the undone hair, the missing tooth…all the flaws that I moan and bitch about …I am going to like them, appreciate them and love them. I am going to shed myself of the things I used to do, the person I used to be; I am going to remind myself that other people’s treatment of me, their opinion of me are NOT a reflection of me. I am going to hug me and tell myself all the positive things I tell my friends.  It’s time to dig deep again, time to reconnect with my Higher Power on more than a superficial level; I realize I have quality and worth…time to know it, show it and respect it.  I AM a good woman…I have simply been one to the wrong men.This isn’t some goal, resolution or a wild hair up my ass. It is part of changing the environment I create for myself wherever I go or may be…it’s part of the new me. It’s as simple as taking life one day at a time and ABC: once you change your attitude and change your behaviors…your choices will be different.

I have absolutely no idea how this post has come across. For me, it was cathartic and a revelation. I don’t feel sadly or badly….again, it is exciting and almost scary that I am ready, willing and eager to embrace the change that is coming over me. I want to be truly happy with me and because of me, not because of some external source. I want new adventures, new things to see and the peace that comes from knowing I truly am the best me I can be. I don’t want another failed almost relationship….when it’s time (and not rushing it…I want and need ME time), I want the real deal and to be able to handle things with grace, calm and acceptance if it doesn’t work out should the guy turn out to be anything than what he presented himself to be. I want all that recovery can offer me, on all levels. It’s not going to be easy: recovery is hard work and life isn’t easier in recovery, it’s better…I am ready for better.

So this ran a little long…thanks for reading it out! As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!

Chapter One

Happy 2015, Lovebugs!!! I hope however you welcomed the New Year, you had fun doing so. In the past, I have ushered in the New Year in church, a comedy club and sleeping. I have had exactly one NYE kiss. For 2015, I went out to the soft opening of a Busboys & Poets with Downstairs Neighbor…it was different and probably would have been so much more fun were I not coming down with a cold and my neuropathy wasn’t acting up, but I was with a friend, surrounded by new people in a new environment. And I loved the fact that New Year’s Day was sunny and clear…I said God approved of my plan and was giving the green light for this year to be the game changer I am hoping it to be.

Of course it would not be me if there weren’t a WTF story to go along with this. The only thing surprising about 2015 starting off with the same craziness that has followed me the past 5 years is the fact it started at 3 minutes after midnight : a responder to my ad (dude who turned out to be a dud…and a flaky one at that) texted me Happy New Year…I texted back the same. He then texted: I love you, tell me you love me. I ignored him. Then he came back with I was an uppity bitch; after all, he only wished me Happy New Year. I blocked him. The man was a combination of drunk and crazy…no time for that. It’s 2015.

Now here is something you are going to love…2014 ended with a futile attempt by me to attempt to meet a member of the opposite sex. I answered his ad on Craigslist (I know, I know) seeking company for a light dinner and movie. This was on December 29th….I heard nothing back and did not think any more about it. I have no time for flakiness or busy; the man responds NYE. Naturally his excuse was he was too busy to respond but he would like to meet Friday evening in Cleveland Park. I am thinking: why not? and we chatted some New Year’s evening to get acquainted….and the man is so desperately lonely, it scares me. He is calling me a beautiful goddess, I am the one he has been searching for, he wants our hearts to beat as one and he wants us to work and cook together in the kitchen for our blended families. I told him to slow his roll and I am not looking for that. THEN he says that it would be best if we had no expectations when we meet….and all I can think is: YOU are the ONLY one with an expectation of anything. At first, I wondered if this is how men are when they meet their one…the one they see themselves with for a lifetime and I don’t recognize it because I was never lifetime material for someone. But no…he is just lonely with a dash of authentic batshit crazy…but I met with him after he agreed to put the crazy on hold and had a really pleasant evening eating BBQ and watching The Imitation Game.

In my first chapter of 2015, I am detoxing. Not from any particular person or incident…I have a LOT of toxins in my emotional psyche that has built up over the years. I am filled with the lies, mistreatment and disrespect from men I had genuine feelings for and it is no longer enough to accept that or to try to get over it/move past it. I need it purged from my life if I am to create a new environment, and creating a new environment is more than changing the four walls I live in. I need to be able to give everyone their fair chance should they approach me with sanity and respect…but the toxins won’t let me. I should not have to shut myself down or cut myself off when things go south, and I definitely should not be feeling guilty when I make decisions that are for my own good. The detox will empty the negativity and make room for the light and magic I know still exists. The best part of this detox is I don’t have to do anything except realize I do not and never did deserve such fuckery and it no longer has to happen again.

I can take on the forgetting part when it comes to forgiving and forgetting…for me, it means forgetting the men who hurt me, which is fine by me. This is the year (as part of my purpose) I wipe the slate clean…hell, I may just trash my slate and buy a brand new one…one untouched by anyone. I want a new environment all the way around and no more emotional clutter. The emotional shutdown that followed PC’s abrupt departure has definitely helped with the pieces falling into place as to how I can get back to living my life…the life I lived before the hurt, betrayals and fiascoes. I am no longer searching for contentment or for someone complete me/fill the voids…I am going to claim peace and happiness, and there is simply no room for crazy, deceit, “busy” and drama.

Reliable One/Safety Net is on the list to be forgotten…I don’t understand the man any longer but I am guessing he cannot handle his position of power. So we all know how he made me jump through hoops and berated me for only reaching out when I needed money…and how I countered with the man only wanting to see me when he knew a rescue was needed. Well, over the holiday break (where he was named Acting Supervisor because he was the only one in the office) I called him at work…Christmas Eve to be specific. I wished him and his family a very Merry Christmas and we talked for a minute. He wanted to know was I willing to groupon a dinner…I told him I had no more groupons (I do, but they are for small amounts…basically enough for one person and Reliable One likes groupons that take significant amounts off a bill)…then he said he had to go and would call me Christmas Day. And I have not heard from him since….not on Christmas Day, not at all during New Year’s Week….so my argument/question to the man is this: do you only want to see me when I can basically pay for dinner? I know why I do it when I ask for the rent check (cannot have you paying for a decent meal AND write the check) but is this when and why you want to see me? Because if it is, you are the same person you accuse me of being. I am done making efforts and putting forth initiatives when you I KEEP seeing the same results and not going to allow anyone to guilt me for doing to them what they are doing to me.

I know this must sound like a rant but it isn’t…it is me realizing just how sick and tired I am of being sick and tired. It is me realizing that constantly getting the shit end of the stick or ending up the side chick and bad guy is not my lot in life. This is me taking control of my life and doing the work necessary to create new chapters…unblemished, untarnished chapters. As Nina Simone sang: “it’s a new dawn, it’s a day, it’s a new life for me….and I’m feelin’ good.” For the first time in a long time, I am not heartbroken; I am not getting over or getting by (at least emotionally)…true there is still too much fondness and caring for Prince Charming, but that is what the detox is for. For the first time maybe ever, I am not hoping and wishing and praying for a man or a relationship…all I want this year is to manifest the New Me and have her end the year in her new environment: physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually.

I really hope you all can see the positive in this post because I am feeling really positive and excited about the direction the process is leading me in. I am looking forward to the change I am going to be bring about this year. For the first time EVER, the focus is ME. Planning on spending the first weekend of 2015 resting, searching for a new house/new neighborhood (someone snatched up Dusty Lane!) and making a list of recruiters I need to call Monday to follow up on potential/submitted assignments. Time to get this show on the road, folks! Hope you stick around to see what happens this year.

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