Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Hormones



Today, I am thankful for Dopamine and Serotonin.
 
 
Psychologist, Arthur Arun, once said that it only takes 34 minutes for two people to fall in love. 
 
Yep.....
 
 
If you spend about a half of an hour spilling intimate details of your private life with someone you barely know, followed by four minutes of staring deeply into their eyes, you will both fall in love. 
 
 
Knowing this, I try to avoid eye contact at all costs. 
 
 
I did this when my high school sweetheart came back....thrice. 
 
I still love him.  I drive him insane.  It's best he not look into my eyes. 
 
I love him enough to avoid driving him insane again.  Last time, he turned to drugs when we started having relationship trouble.  I'm NOT going to create that situation ever again. 
 
Do you know what happened? 
 
As much as I tried to avoid it, there is someone else.   
 
He is supposed to be a friend. 
 
That's it. 
 
He is supposed to be a friend. 
 
But, we've been spending a lot of time together due to the current political climate and upcoming election. 
 
I try so darn very hard not to look in his eyes. 
 
It still isn't working. 
 
I'm thinking of him too much. 
 
Drat.....
 
I'm smiling too much. 
 
I'm feeling so much love. 
 
I'm freakin' glowing. 
 
People say I look happy. 
 
Oh....heck no....I'm not going to let this happen. 
 
Do you know why? 
 
This guy is sweet. 
 
He is very beautiful. 
 
He is generous. 
 
He likes the same things I do. 
 
We are a political match.  He likes books.  He likes hiking.  He likes biking.  He likes comedies. 
 
We both have artistic daughters who like to do the same things. 
 
And the best part, he's essentially drama free. 
 
I love that in a man. 
 
No drama.....what a wonderful thing. 
 
But....when I am around him....I tend to get stupid and talkative. 
 
He doesn't freak out about it. 
 
He doesn't hit things. 
 
He just sits there calmly and tries to communicate with me by using reflective listening. 
 
So, you say you want to go south yet you are walking north.   Where are you trying to go? 
 
That kind of thing. 
 
I'm so hyper around him that I think my energy drains him. 
 
For his own benefit....
 
I will NOT look into his eyes. 
 
Nope....nada....no go. 
 
It is NOT going to happen. 
 
My daughter met him.  She likes him. 
 
Oh, goodness...no.  This can't happen. 
 
I've got to change my routine. 
 
That's it. 
 
I've got to avoid my friend at all costs now. 
 
Yep....
 
If it were not for those hormones that make me feel pretty,
 
those hormones that make me feel happy,
 
those hormones that actually make me want to be decent and kind and not want to strangle all the idiots in the world.....
 
if it were not for those hormones, I would not know that I was falling in love. 
 
And I wouldn't know to run away. 
 
That poor, poor man. 
 
Thank goodness it's unrequited.  We could've had a big mess on our hands. 
 
Love ya,
 
S. 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 



Thursday, October 25, 2012

Men Who Can Explain Anything

Today I am thankful for men who can explain anything in simple terms. 

Yep. 

I just adore those guys who don't shy away from saying something that will help you avoid running away from crazy guys who want to pull you under the covers even though you thought they were married, uninterested, gay or castrated. 

One man explained everything to me. 

His words of wisdom were:

We are what we eat. 
 
Men eat pork. 
 
Men are pigs. 
 
 
Now, as a female, I am given to over-extrapolation and over analysis.  So I am left to take this equation a little further. 
 
Is he trying to tell me that men taste like bacon? 
 
-or-
 
Is he trying to tell me that I want to be a dick?
 
It's been so long since I kissed either thing, I don't remember what either tastes like. 
 
It takes six years to make the memories go away. 
 
Wow....time flies when you're bored. 
 
Love ya,
 
S. 
 
 
 


Halloween Costumes For Lazy Redheads

Today I am thankful that I have red hair and an enormous wardrobe; it makes Halloween easier. 



Halloween is next week. 

This is the costume I originally chose.



I own the dress.  I own the shoes.  I have many gold belts. 

I have seashell necklaces, lots of pearls and a golden girdle.  I have lots of cute little cupid pins and bracelets.

And, originally Aphrodite was a redhead, so I wouldn't have to mess with changing my hair.




 Oh, but there is one problem.  I dress like this in June sans the head-dress.  People won't know it is a costume.

Maybe I should do something a little different. 

Hmmmm.......
 
 
If I don't want to buy another outfit, I could always go as the Black Widow.
 
 



But then, I dress like that most of the time (without the guns Black Widow is known to carry).  I am said to be a Libertarian gun nut.  So people won't know it is a costume either. 

Maybe I should try a little harder. 

How about Poison Ivy? 



I just need to straighten my hair and rip apart the fake ivy in my living room to glue on a dress and I'm ready to go. 

Hmmmm......I hang out with conservative politicians.  Showing off my boobs is a no-no.  They hate the green movement, global warming, energy rate-hike conspiracy.  I don't want to get people talking. 

I'd better pass. 

Crud....what now. 

Hmmmm.......

You know, maybe I could go as Medusa. 



I think I have a similiar dress.  I can glue little plastic snakes to barrettes and stick them in my hair. 

This may be the winner. 

I have lots of plastic snakes as the neighbor boy likes to hide them in my garden to scare the heck out of this old lady. 

Gotta love little kids. 

Besides, it would be fun to chose to be a woman who can turn all the men around her into stone. 

I love it! 

Medusa it is (unless I donated the dress). 

Thanks for helping me. 

Happy Halloween.

Love ya,

S. 

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

More Honest Men

Today I am thankful for honest men who are generous with their insight about love, lust and romance.

So....

A mentor of mine posted a link to a study.  I've seen it before and never taken it seriously.  Research psychology is my specialty, so anytime I see a quantitative study with only eighty-eight participants, I tend to ignore the results. 

The researchers in this study concluded that close platonic friends have at least one partner with a sexual interest in the other.  Usually it is the male who wants the female.

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=men-and-women-cant-be-just-friends&page=2

Holy crap....

I still didn't believe it.  So I posted it on various social networks.  Three of the men who responded were people who I hung out with in the past.  We went to the mall.  We went to political events.  He volunteered together.  We went to movies.  We went out to lunches and dinners that lasted for several hours. 

I never saw any of them....

uh...

express an outward sign of interest...

so I assumed they just wanted to be friends. 

Today, these three men told me otherwise. 

Granted one spent a lot of time with me several years ago.  He recently found a really beautiful lady and moved far away. 

One stopped seeing me last year. 

The other could have his pick of women, so I never even thought he wanted anything more than share recipes with me. 

I'm a little bit embarrassed. 

Really? 

I have feelings for one of these men.  I don't tell him because, quite frankly, I didn't think there was a shot in Hades that he'd be interest in anything (even a short romp in the barn).

Could I have been wrong? 


If I wanted to kiss his adorable gray whiskers, he would have let me?

If I wanted to reach across the table and told him that I wanted to go somewhere private and take him into my mouth, he may have let me?

Not to mention what I'd like to do with his....

uh...

leg.....

the third one. 

Oh....my...goodness. 

Really? 

No....

Seriously? 

I don't believe it. 

In the past, I chose my few partners based on who I clicked with the best from a pool of guys who could not conceal their erections. 

I guess I made the game too hard. 

The key is finding someone that wants to spend time with you, not wants to parade his manhood in front of you. 

No wonder I get the perverts. 

Whoa.....

Oh, my goodness. 

I'm terrified to go out now. 

I'm going to stay home by myself a little more often. 

Or, I'm going to hang out with married friends. 

What do I do? 

I don't go places with the expectation of sex.  I know a lot of older gentleman who get creeped out when they are alone with me.  I never understood why.  I just...kinda...avoid being alone when helping them. 

All men are dogs? 

No.....

I really am having trouble with this. 

I have half  a mind to go hang out....alone in a cave....and avoid men for awhile. 

Wow....

I guess it is true that women don't see things the same way that men do. 

Wow....

Love ya,

S. 





Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Halloween




Today I am thankful for Halloween. 


It is the one day where I can admit to being a witch without having Republicans want to hang me. 

The dems just call me a bitch or a teabagger. 

The Libertarians know the truth.  I think some guy ran around telling everyone my secret.  He was talking about a Masonic ritual and didn't understand the magick behind it. 

When I explained the meaning of the four directions, the bells, and the lunar and sun cycle he guessed that I was a witch. 

So, when people talk about running around nude, all eyes inadvertently end up on me.

This often happens during lunch.

I don't order food anymore.

I never thought of myself as a witch. 

I'm more of an enchantress. 

My ex calls me a snake charmer. 

His snake is always slithering about....anyone can charm the pants of that man. 

I'm nothing special.

A witch? 

I don't know....

You know, I haven't cast a spell in a very long time. 

They take a lot of energy. 

I am actually trying to break a few that I cast back in 2002.  I had a dream that I would marry a guy I didn't know.  I cast spells to keep him away.  I drove to the countryside, in the dark, and buried little black candles.  I have no idea where they are.  I can't break the spells if I tried. 

Then during the winter solstice of '07 the goddess Diana gave me a dream of the man's eyes. 

I knew him in an instant. 

I lit a candle during the summer solstice of '08.   

His name showed up in the candle. 

I laughed. 

He showed up eight weeks later. 

He came back....thrice. 

Each time, I don't know what he wants.  He makes me swoon.  He calls me pretty.  He knows when I'm in pain.  He is the only person on the planet that knows when I'm about to cry.  He started to tell me about a broken bone in his leg and he knew I was about to cry. 

He said he'd stop upsetting me. 

I could cry so hard that my eyeliner falls off and no one else notices.  This guy can sense the moment my lips start to quiver. 

It's not something I'm accustomed to. 

He was also the first person to acknowledge that I was planning on leaving my husband.  No one knew.  He guessed  and told me to let him know what happens with "that guy."  Everyone else thinks I'm happy. 

He sees through me. 

It's weird. 

Here is the deal. 

I'm not right for him. 

The dream had to be a farce....unless I end up being the last woman on the flippin' planet or he loses his mind or I get hit by some magick spell that actually makes me nice, kind, wealthy, devoid of cellulite and a pretty darn good cook. 

I don't see myself ruining this man's life like that. 

Marriage....no. 

Unconditional love....that I can see. 

But getting hitched? 

Why would I tie a beautiful spirit down like that? 

Shudder....

I don't understand what the Goddess was trying to tell me. 

I remember....sometime in 2007, I fell asleep crying because my husband was being a jerk.  I had a dream of a radiant Goddess who told me that there is one man on the planet who has loved me since he first laid eyes upon me.  She said that he will always love me unconditionally as I love him.

I love to see him happy.  I pray for his happiness every night.  I pray he finds his wife (the marrying kind) and I pray she can love him more than me.  I also hope she's kind-hearted, loyal, faithful, and a heck of a cook.

I will always love him so much so that I only want what is best for him. 

Yep, I want the best for him. 

I'm not it. 

The beautiful Goddess is all seeing and all knowing.  She and he both know the heck I've put that poor soul through. 

When he was seventeen, he kissed my nose and I did something so horrid,

so disgusting,

that I'm surprised he doesn't throw up when he sees me. 

I sneezed....into his...

yep...you guessed it. 

Oh, that poor man. 

This is why I haven't kissed a man in six years.  It's karma coming home to roost. 

That poor, poor man.  His first experience with love....a deep beautiful experience of love was ruined with one slimy booger moment. 

He isn't going to marry me. 

On the bright side, I have since discovered allergy medication. 

That poor, poor man. 

I've thought about casting a spell to manifest money.  I don't know.  My magical powers have a horrible sense of humor.   How could it backfire? 

The last spell I cast was to reveal the mayor's secrets.  He was being a grade A idiot towards me.  Then, his term was up.  You don't want to know the heck I had to go through to break that flippin' spell. 

It is comical. 

And I still know things about the new mayor that I don't want to know.  It's gossip.  Gossip is never true.  So....delete...delete...delete....throw up...delete..delete.

I'd prefer not to cast spells. 

I used to have a little witch garden.  There was rosemary by the front door, to de-masculate an abusive idiot.  I had various herbs.  My favorite was yarrow.  They said that if you hung it on your marital bed, your marriage would last seven years.

What they didn't tell me that it would work even if you both hated each other and were too poor to afford the lawyer. 

Then my daughter's boyfriend wanted me to make him a soup his mommy made for her guests.  It was a lust potion.  I did not make the bitter flavored damaina, rose hip, catnip, and what-not soup.  It had more ingredients in it than love potion #9 (so named because it contains nine aphrodisiac herbs). 

I asked him if his mother was a Bruja.  Sure thing, she's into black magick. 

No wonder she's so prolific.  If I were a man not wanting to pay child support, I'd avoid eating soup or salad at her house.  Go for the steak. 

This kid is really mean to his mother. 

He is twenty-two and has severe back problems. 

Always be nice to your mother.

Witch or not. 

Happy Halloween,

S.




Saturday, October 20, 2012

Unanswered Prayers

 
 
Today I am thankful for unanswered prayers. 

I prayed to the great Aphrodite and asked her to help me find the love of my life while curing any crush I have on any man who would not be a good fit for me. 

She answered half of my prayer.  

My crush dressed up like me today. 

He wore my hair better than I ever could. 

I have to say I'm cured. 

I'm bone dry. 

I'm about to cry.

But on the bright side  

At least I'll sleep better now knowing there are no lustful pangs in the middle of the night. 

I mean beauty sleep is important at my age. 

I'll be getting a lot more of that now. 

Sigh....

Help....

I'm a little disappointed but I'm sure this was good for me on some sick and twisted level. 

My estranged spouse and I got into our first fight back in the early 90's because he claimed my high school sweetheart wore ball gowns at the prom.  We never went to the prom.  My old friend is Scottish.  It wasn't a ball gown: it was an arse kicking outfit.  He wore it and stepped over me as I sat on a sidewalk the day after we broke up.  I think he was trying to make me miss him.  Maybe I was supposed to reach up his kilt and squeeze.  I really was far too young to know about the blue ribbon thing. 

I have also learned that one should never marry anyone who knows people you went to school with.  It fuels a heck of a lot of fights and jealous rages. 

This was the first time a guy in drag made me ill.  It is Halloween.  It is okay to dress up.  I don't know what my problem is.  Perhaps this guy is too much of a mirror for me.  Every conversation with him makes me go run to a shrink because he helps me see how screwed up I am. 

Hmmmm........I'll have to ponder that a little more. 

Still, with the prayer thing, Aphrodite never fails. 

She never fails....I once prayed to live my life tighter than a chinese finger trap.  My ex still can't stand up straight around me.  He made it a point to tell me that today when he grabbed the kids to take them b-day shopping.  I was wearing an old outfit that I had since 1983.  It was boring and the most unsexy thing on the planet and he had to get all stiff about it. 

Yuck...

Oooh....with as sick as men are making me, I'm surprised that I'm not skinnier

Sigh....

I'll let you know if I find a hottie to snuggle....someday. 

Maybe when I move out, it'll be to a place where I can have a puppy. 

Love ya,

S. 

About blue ribbons:


Edit 1:24 a.m. 10/21/12

I can't sleep. 

I know WHY seeing him wearing a wig resembling my hair color turned me off. 

I hate my hair. 

I have naturally dark auburn hair.  It looks burgandy in the sun.  I despise it.  If I dye it brown, it turns red.  If I bleach it blonde, it turns orange.  I've been fighting this battle since I was seventeen.  I give up. 

I hate my hair. 

It's weird.  I never really thought about how I looked until tonight.  As I dressed myself for bed, I realized that I think I'm hideous. 

My mom died when I was fourteen.  She died on her thiry-sixth birthday from a domestic assault.  For years, I could look in the mirror and see her red hair.  I could see her ruddy complexion.  I could see her hour-glass shape.  I could see her hazel eyes.  Looking in the mirror was comfort because I never saw myself: I saw my mother. 

I felt beautiful. 

I am now forty-three.  I look nothing like her anymore.  I don't know who I see. 

I feel lost. 

My distaste for my friend's costume has nothing to do with men in drag issues from my past.  It is because he chose a wig that resembles my head of hair.  At least I should be happy that there is one man in the world who allows me to feel safe enough to examine my faults and issues.  I guess that can't be a bad thing. 

Love ya,

S. 

Friday, October 19, 2012

Sour Gummy Worms

Today I am thankful for sour gummy worms.
 
It's October. 
 
I hate October and November. 
 
Up until last month, every man who ever asked me out was a Scorpio.  The last guy was a Leo.  He's drama free and an open book.  I had to run away from him because I found his openness and honesty to be incredibly hotter than trying to guess what was going on.   I'm not going to mention what he looked like....and what it makes me think of doing because that would get me in trouble.  
 
The problem, though, was I didn't know we were on a date. 
 
I thought we were friends but I caught the way he looked at me when I was talking to another guy. 
 
Oh, I'm a little slow.  He is really cute and fun and available.  Alas, I am not so available due to my inability to disentangle myself from what amounts to little more than Scorpio blackmail. 
 
I'm working on it. 
 
Then a Scorpio ex became jealous.  I think he hacked my Facebook account and made a threat to the lion.  He's been acting stupid and wanting to get back with me.  ***
 
I don't understand the blocking me on Facebook thingy either.  I don't care but when he leaves comments on my relatives pages and I can't see them, I know he blocked me. 
 
What, does he not like my face? 
 
I changed my profile pic so he doesn't have to look at it. 
 
If the man can't stand me, why can't he let me go?
 
Oh, I wish he could find a new love and move on. 
 
Poor thing....
 
I'll never understand.   I don't even know how to write about it in a coherent fashion.  How do I process it?
 
It's like they live in a world devoid of any meaning except the emotion that they feel at that moment. 
 
It's crazy. 
 
For me, it is NOW birthday party avoidance season.  I hate it.  I have to buy the obligatory gifts for the exes that I have children and/or other relatives in common with.  I never put my name on the package, their kids present them to the recepient.  I mean, they get their little feelings hurt so easily and I can't stand to see a strong guy cry. 
 
For some reason, my Scorpio exes remind me of sour gummy worms. 
 
I don't know why.  It is probably because my daughter used to love to make her daddy worms and dirt for his birthday.  It is a chocolate cake, ground up and mixed with pudding.  She liked to hide sour gummy worms in the middle of it.   He'd pretend to be all grossed out and eat it up saying that he likes everything his daughter makes for him. 
 
It was actually kind of cute to watch. 
 
They make decent dads but, uh, I can't handle their craziness and the violence.  Oh lord, what in the world is up with that?   
 
He and his Scorpio ilk remind me of sour gummy worms. 
 
They are really super sour on the outside and sweet on the inside.
 
You want to suck on them to get to the sweet stuff. 
 
You put up with their sour puss ways in front of their friends knowing that they're going to give you a sweet thrill when you get home.
 
But sadly, you can only stand so much sour crap before you get sick to your stomach. 
 
This is why I'm skinny. 
 
I can't eat. 
 
Happy Birthday. 
 
Excuse me while I pretend to be out of town for the next thrity some days.
 
Love ya,
 
S. 

*** Edit March 2015:

So, there was an issue at that time where the Leo guy (Steve) claimed that a man (Michael) threatened him via my account.  He said that the man claimed to be my husband.

I could not find proof of anyone hacking my account that day.  I did find another Facebook account with my name that didn't belong to me.  I couldn't sign in, so I assumed the person made a fake account to attack Steve.

I wasn't sure exactly what to do.  I tried logging into the other account.  I couldn't so I let it go.  Maybe there is another person with my name in the city I live in. 

After a few months, the stalking got worse.  Someone hacked into my Facebook account from the city where Shannon and Doug supposedly lived (FB sends a notification when people log on and I can see the IP address in the control panel).  I asked Steve for proof of the message he allegedly received so I could take it to the police with all of my other evidence.

That was when Steve told me that he didn't remember it happening. He posted a status claiming that my ex-husband threatened him but when it came time to prove it to me, he said it didn't happen.  Maybe the aim was to embarrass me?
I don't know. 

It was weird because when I asked Steve, he immediately changed the subject.  He started to claim that he got hit by the local light rail train because he was riding his bike on the tracks. 

The local RTD board member I asked certainly does not remember that incident.  He would remember something like that.  This was when I began to doubt that my friend was who he claimed to be. 



I can't believe that I said that Leo was Drama free.

HaHa HaHa...the joke is on me.

Oh LORD....if there was no drama to be found, he 'effin made it up. 


I hope he found an actress to take the stage with....

I could go on and on about some of the crap he pulled.....


there were no threats. 


He just made 'em up as he went along. 

I take back what I said about Scorpios.  They don't seem to be about drama.



I tire of the drama. 



Love ya,

S. 

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Ballots

 
 
Today I am thankful that I live in the USA and can speak my mind by casting a ballot. 

Yeppers...

Today I received my ballot. 

Today I voted for my friends in politics. 

I voted against tax hikes proposed by people I like but who have ripped me off in the past.  If you want me to vote for your tax hike, never let your lying lawyer steal $500 from me....okay?

I'm going to make sure that costs those...those lying sacks of [stuff monkeys throw].  Although, their lawyers' lies led me to my estranged spouse's lies which led me to prove that I am not a sex addict after all. Yes, the lawyer proved to me that my hubby is a stalking cad but the fact still remains that they ripped me off (long story).  I'm still angry.  Six years of living like a nun and I want to [censored as it is completely unsexy].  I'm just a little grouchy.  I'll get over it when hell freezes over or I meet a blind guy unafraid to be turned to stone by a medusa look-a-like. 

But, getting back to the point. 

There was one person I wasn't sure I'd vote for. 

I met him six months ago and he made fun of my shirt.  I don't care how saggy one's bags are.  I don't care what her t-shirt says.  Old men should never make fun of any old lady's shirt lest they live to rue the day.

I saw him again last month and caught him checking out my backside.  He literally popped his perverted head out of a door and watched me walk away.   To give him credit, I may have sat in gum and he may have been trying to warn me. 

I don't know. 

I didn't know if I'd bother voting for him.

It took me all day to decide. 

In the end, I voted for him because he's probably the only man brave enough to get that close to me.  Some guys will do anything to pimp themselves for a vote. 

Well...there was another reason, too. 

He ran unopposed.

It's fun to be a US citizen. 

Don't forget to get your vote on!

Love ya,

S. 



Sunday, October 14, 2012

Screening Questions

 
 
Today I am thankful for screening questions. 
 
 
You know, those questions guys ask you when they're staring at you with watery eyes and absolutely humongeous pupils. 
 
 
Like.....
 
 
1.)  Question:  "Are you still with that guy?"
 
 
Answer: What do you mean by "with?"
 
What I want to say:  The guy I want is the guy who wants me so much that social convention can take a flippin' back seat.  Sadly, I haven't met him yet. 
 
 
2.)  Question:  "Will you ever get married again?"
 
Answer:  "As a Libertarian, I don't believe in government sanctioned marriage."
 
What I want to say:  I can't mate in captivity. 
 
Sigh....
 
It's too early for this....
 
 
Love ya,
 
S.   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


Saturday, October 13, 2012

Laughing at the Law of Attraction

 
 
 
 
Today, I am thankful for the joke that is the law of attraction. 
 
 
 
I'm trying to escape a twenty year relationship.  This means cleaning out twenty some odd years of crap that I've accumulated from a house I don't want. 
 
 
I have a couple of journals.  I found myself laughing at a journal entry circa 1988. 
 
 
I am nineteen years old.  I decided modeling sucks and took a fun job answering telephones for a bunch of lawyers who enjoyed my ability to answer the phone using and calling them by name when they called and before they spoke. 

It's easy now.  Back then it was quite a trick as it was prior to caller ID. 
 
 They thought I was psychic. 
 
 
Nope.  They usually called at the exact same time everyday. 

In between telephone calls, I would journal back in the day. 
 
I had a little journal where I would draw my desires. 
 
I wished for "headless toys" and drew lots of pictures of allen wrenches and Steinberger guitars. 
 
Now, that came true. 
 
Someone basically gave me a 5-string black Steinberger for a song.  It was only $500. 
 
That's not all....
 
Nope....
 
I think that headless toy business explains my inexplicable attraction to my husband. 
 
Love ya,
 
S. 
 
 


Thursday, October 11, 2012

His Therapist

Today I am thankful for HIS therapist. 


I've been having relationship problems for twelve (almost thirteen years). 

I just found a blog post which went up when we stopped being intimate.  He went to his Uncle's funeral, spent the day with his family and came home and called me his ex.  I nearly cried when I saw the date.  It was six years ago!!! 

I've been telling everyone that it's only been four.  It's been SIX!

Darn...

I threw myself into work. 

He asked me to stay here to help with the kids while he undertook a massive job search.  He promised we could divorce when he found a job.  He was hired in February.  As I began to pack, I found that my credit cards had been run up, he lied when he said he was making the minimum payments.  He told me he threw all our money in the 401K, and said that he did it so I had nothing to leave with. 

He said he did that to force me to stay. 

On Sunday, he told me he lied and said he was looting the 401K because we were broke. 

I want to work.  Whenever I work, one of two things always happens.  He yells at me in front of my boss -or- one of his kooky relatives stalks me at work and spreads malicious gossip with the receptionist. 

So....I stayed and said I'd leave the day he filed bankruptcy. 

He filed on Monday (or so I think).  Details around here seem to be sketchy. 

A couple of days ago, he told me that I made him gain 250 pounds (he is in the 500 range).  He also said that our celibacy is my fault.  He refuses to tell me how. 

Like I make him grab me and make a mess on my leg. 

Yes, this is the extent of our intimacies.  Sometime last spring, I wore a dress.  He came home and grabbed me, took me upstairs, made a mess on my thigh and ran back downstairs to eat Pringles.

Some men smoke cigarettes, others inhale potato chips.  Most women get kissed. 

I guess I should be happy that he didn't try for my face....but still....I had no clue what to say except that I DO NOT want to ruin anymore of my dresses.

I want out. 

I've been crying myself to sleep a little too much.  I am trying to arrange to leave for my own mental health. 

I've turned three men down for dates.  

I can't do this to myself anymore.  I'm starving and God is thrusting a lot of hot beef my way.  I can't touch any of them.  I mean, when I cut people off in traffic I'll beat myself up about it for a week. 

I couldn't possibly have an affair.  It would make me go gray. 

I need to flippin' leave. 

Now, that someone else made a pass at me, and I called him handsome, the man in the basement has decided that he is going to get help. 

He found a therapist. 

He met with him last week.

Today was his second appointment.  The phones, somehow, miraculously work.  There is gas money for the car.  He still rages at me but at least I can call for help. 

Thank you, Mr. Shrink. 

He's only met him twice and, he claims, his therapist wants to meet with me because his therapist is a former inmate shrink.  Then he called me paranoid (which really is easy to be when someone is running around spreading malicious gossip about you, claiming you are murdering kids and leaving pro-life propaganda on your doorstep).  I'm watching over my shoulder for the next shoe to drop.  I can't go a week without some sort of drama from this person or his family.  That is probably the definition of paranoia but just because I'm paranoid doesn't make me wrong. 

Look....if this therapist is truly licensed, if he truly paid attention in abnormal behavior class, he would know that meeting with me will only escalate things here.   It would be akin to giving his client a theater to act out against me. 

His boss at the city illegally fined us and slandered me.  We sued because other people were approaching me with the slander and he couldn't get work due to his referance from the city.  It was bad.  The city attorneys would call here incessently.  Cop cars would sit outside the house (although someone said it was because they were concerned about me).  The house was raided at 2:00 am the day I filed a complaint with the Supreme Court over the Assistant City Attorney's behavior.  I had an eight hour deposition.  His lawyer layed into me during the breaks.  Look.....I had two sets of attorneys trying to get me to lie.  It wasn't going to happen. 

Is it any wonder I'm a government activist?  Really...how much of the people's money did the city waste harassing and annoying me? I still can't sort out what they did and what he did.  This was all so convulted.  The day I realized that I had two sets of annoyances to deal with was the day of the deposition.  The lawyers the city hired would try to put words in my mouth then send me on a break before he and his lawyer tried to do the same thing. 

I am not happy.....

This person is a wolf in sheep's clothing.  He'll fool people.  I'm an Irish witch.  You see that when you look at me.  What you see is exactly what you get.  I won't lie and I won't play games. 

This guy is abusive.  He'll admit to the little abuses but not the big ones.  He'll lie through his teeth. 

He'll triangulate.  He'll twist events.  He'll blame everyone but himself.  He claims to be seeing you because of childhood trauma.  When I tell him I have needs (like pain relief in the hospital), he calls me his mother and screams at me.  If confront him over something he's done, like steal $13,000 out of the 401K and lie to me about it, he'll start punching things and tell me it's because my name is Shannon.  Shannon is his sister.

I got tired of the game when he claimed he blacks out during these episodes.  He doesn't black out; this is his excuse not to talk about his behavior.  When I said it could be Dissassociative Identity Disorder, he told me he was faking.  This is why he is seeing a shrink.  He has no idea what could happen if he plays that game in a squad car; he could be going to a new home in a huggie jacket. 

The therapist's job is to kindly explain that to him. 

Got it? 

My seeing his therapist this early in the game makes his childhood excuse OUR problem.  Work on him.  I have my pick of people to see for the PTSD, once the danger has passed.  The only reason I would expect any decent therapist to contact me is to tell me that I am in danger or that he is a danger to himself.  Anything less than that and some therapist is going to be slapped with a DORA complaint.   This man is a liar.  He's is messing with me and claims his family is doing it.  I'm tired of it. 

Yes, he's threatening suicide.  That's why I'm still here after more than four sexless years.  That is why he's in therapy.  Yes, I fear for my life.  On the lethality scale, we rank 175 out of 200 and I was generous to him while taking the test.  He says the only thing he lives for his to be with me (scary).  He really only has a new job as a stabilizing effect (and its a poor one at that).   I don't own a gun because I fear HIM.  I can't sleep at night because I fear HIM.  If his family hurts me, it will be at his urging.  I am sure of it. 

Everyone that runs around verbally attacking me, fining me, gossiping about me knows him.   He triangulates with his mother, his co-workers, and his former boss at the city.  Then he denies it.  I'm tired of fighting to fix his messes.  I need to find a way out and he's busy hiding assets to keep me here. 

Oh, and this is a big clue.  All those things he claims my exes are doing...he is doing.  Pay attention....

So, if it is true that his shrink wants to see me.  The healthy answer is NO, not right now. 

Nope.  I'm not gonna do it.  I'll get my own. 

If that man hasn't figured out that this guy a massive manipulator yet, he soon will.  I know better than to fall for that trap again.   Ask me on the tenth appointment (if he makes it that far).

It's his shrink...not mine. 

Sigh....

But at least the man in the basement is trying to listen.  For the first time in six years, we talked without any yelling, fighting, or telling me to F*ck off.  

The topic? 

Well, I don't know how to refer to the man in the basement. 

We are still legally married due to my inability to pay the lawyer $3,000 cash. 

He called me his ex six years ago. 

We were estranged for quite a while. 

When he found his job and I had no access to money, I started doing his laundry so he wouldn't get fired for being stinky. I figured it was the least I could do since I wasn't working and his holding a job will make it easier for me to leave.   

I guess washing one's undies makes you in some type of relationship.

 I don't know.

Still, I don't know how to describe our relationship.  Is he my ex?  Is he my estranged spouse?  Is he the guy in the basement?  Or should I just call him by his first name? 

He's not a partner to me at all. 

He wants me to call him husband.  I just can't do that.  For over four years, he has been telling me that we are getting a divorce.  I can't just turn on a hubby switch, hold his hand and tell him it's okay. 

He actually listened. 

He didn't yell. 

He didn't hit anything. 

He promised to do something to keep me safe from his family.  Tomorrow he is going to install a couple of motion activated cameras on the front porch so we can figure out who is leaving pro-life religious material on the doorstep in the wee hours of the morning.  He reminded me that his cousin used to put crazy things on my doorstep in the middle of the night when I was single (copies of my apartment keys so any ol' idiot could come on in, threatening notes, and gifts I gave her when we were friends back in high school).  I forgot about that. 

Wow....

Then he hugged me when he noticed that I was crying. 

Who is this guy?  What happened to....

uh...

my ex...

you know, what's his name? 

He understands that I need to see a lawyer.  He still doesn't want a divorce but he spared me the "you're mine and no one else can have you" rant. 

I'm impressed. 

Maybe this will all be over soon. 

I will not meet with his therapist but whatever he's paying him seems to be well worth the money.

Thank you. 

I'll find my own therapist before I even consider kissing another guy again.  This one drove me a little bit insane and I don't want to share the dysfunction.

Love ya,

S. 

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Patterns & Discernment



Today I am thankful for patterns and being old enough to put two and two together. 


I just had an epiphany.  Twenty-eight years ago, I met a young lady.  We became friends.  I was an orphan and her mother took the role of giving me advice. 

Then she started spreading gossip about me, I started to distance myself from this friend.  She'd have her friends harass the boy I dated.  It was annoying when they said they'd get him into bed.  My old boyfriend didn't take the bait.  In fact, I think it bothered him when my friend would try to sit in his lap in an effort to seduce him. 

I never really trusted her after the gossip thing. 

Twenty one years ago, I met her for dinner.  Her cousin was with her.  He wasn't invited. 

He fell in love with me at first sight.  It was sad.  Everyone knew.  It was easy to see in his demeanor.  I was enduring in a bad break up at the time, so I was not interested in anybody at all. 

This is where I will admit to being stupid and incredibly so. 

I went to work the next day to find that someone had written an invitation to sex in the dust on the back of my car.  My boss pointed it out.  I was embarrassed. 

In the days and months that followed, I would find rose scented fabric flowers in my car on the driver's seat.  I held onto those for many years because I knew where they came from.  They came from my friend's cousin.  His coat had light traces of rose perfume on it.    

Once, there was a suicide note written in the dust on the dashboard of my car.  I confronted him.  He denied it.  I begged him to get help.  I mean, he was the only person who seemed to have a talent for breaking into my car.  It had to be him. 

This is not to mention the constant phone harassment I've dealt with from members of his family that began in 1992.  He told me that he had nothing to do with it and like a fool, I believed him.  The worse thing, for me, were the calls to my landlord intended to get me thrown out.  These started happening the day I refused to rent a home with him.  I realize now that the purpose of these calls were to bring our relationship to the next level before I was ready. 

The phone harassment always seems to happen when I am doing something for myself.  If I go to school, take classes, go to work, volunteer, start a business....anything. 

The harassment also amps up when his relatives die.  His father has stage four cancer.

Today, I am a little upset.  I awoke to find a Catholic newspaper on my doorstep with pro-life plea face up so everyone could see it.  None of my neighbors had one.  It had to have been delivered sometime between 10:00 and 6:45 this morning. 

We married in '96 after dating for five years.  I was threatened with the loss of my home if I didn't get married.  I couldn't understand the rush but I loved my friend, so I relented. 

We are Pagan.  He had to have a Christian ceremony for his mother.  I never understood that but that is what he wanted, so that is what we had. 

Our marriage went to heck in 2000 after his mother started spreading gossip about me.  One things she likes to claim is that I have frequent abortions to kill her grandchildren.  We haven't been together in a manner that could produce life for many years.

I've been begging for a divorce since '07.  He promised to let me file this year but when I started making plans the harassment amped up.  He wants to stay married for appearance sake.  I'm not sure I can continue on like this at all. 

His mother has been known to call here to claim that I am murdering her grand-children via abortion.  Since, I don't have an opportunity to ever conceive, I find those calls highly disturbing.  This has gone on since 2001.

I called the archdiocese.  They didn't deliver the paper.  They said that when they do deliver them, they are in plastic bags for privacy, not sprawled out on the porch.  They told me that I am not on their list and if they were to deliver anything like this it would be through a professional delivery service. 

I find the religious thing awkward. 

In recent years, I have been approached by complete strangers in public who berate me for being Satan.  I've had his relatives, including the cousin I've known all these years, approach me and say I'm going to hell.  I've had his uncle walk within a foot of my face, glaring at me, then spinning on his heels and walking away.

I've had colleagues tell me that they've been approached by people claiming that I am Satan, had abortions, and demand private information about me.  I think it may be my in-laws.

These people terrify me.

I understand that they have been calling the house demanding to see my children.  I never get these calls.  My daughter or my ex usually answers the phone.  When my in-laws call, my initials and last name show up on the Caller ID, so they think it is me and pick up. 

It could be that my in-laws are claiming I am aborting their grandchildren because they've never met them.  I don't know.  These people are violent and they need to stay far away from our kids until they are old enough to discern truth from bull.  

Now, I'm freaking out.  I think I'm getting PTSD over it.  New information has recently come to light that scares the holy heck out of me. 

I am also learning that my estranged spouse was digging through stuff I had since high school.  He claimed he wanted to read my writing.  When I was younger, his cousin would share my writing with him.  That kinda creeps me out a little.  He knew who I was six years before we actually met! 

When he went through my stuff, he found things from my high school sweetheart and, told me, that he asked his cousin to hunt him down and return everything.  He did so without my knowledge. ...way back in 2004!   I only found out about it in recent weeks.  So now, I am learning that he's targeting people I used to know!

It's old news to them but new to me. 

It's yucky

and creepy

and freaky. 

He probably just said that to scare me. 

There is one thing men ought to know about women.  Don't attack her first love.  He's best left as an adorable figure from her past.  Threatening him is akin to stomping on a cuddly kitten; she's not going to take it very well.  Whatever you do, do not bring that blast from the past into her present life because all those feelings could come flooding back, especially if he's single and you're not banging her. 

This guy isn't too bright. 

There are other things happening, too.  A black box on the underside of my car started to smoke and fell off in a parking lot.  Money goes missing.  My phone gets unplugged.  The phones don't work.  Friends are getting emails from my accounts telling them to stay away.  My relatives claim I'm being followed by someone driving a white pickup.  I never see it.  I don't know. 

My estranged spouse claims to be Pagan.  I don't see him calling me Satan or putting religious things on my doorstep.  He'd put voodoo dolls, graveyard dust or some kind of foot track hex on my doorstep.  Religious propaganda really isn't his style. 

This is really weird.

I'm at a loss. 

But I guess that doesn't matter.  I can wrack my brains trying to figure out how deep this goes or I can realize the obvious. 

If a relationship starts off due to erotomanic stalking,

it will end with revenge stalking if things don't go well. 

 

I wish I had figured that out when I was twenty-one. 

Don't ever fall for a stalker.  That is the first tip that they are abusive and controlling.  It's not cute.  It's a clue that the guy is not well.  Run away......fast. 

Love ya,

S.

Oh crap, now that I write this I had left my recording studio briefly around 1:00 this morning to get a glass of water.  I swear I heard someone at the front door. I remember the time because I was uploading a YouTube video for Thursday's blog entry.  I always post my blog around 1:11 every morning but have to do it 24 hours in advance because YouTube uploading can be a little flaky.   

Friday morning, around 9:15 a.m., someone jiggled the handle.  No one knocked at all.  I went outside and didn't see anyone there.  I figured it was a political pollster and didn't give it much thought. 

Two weeks ago, a red truck pulled in the driveway around 5:30 p.m. on a Friday.   I heard keys and my door handle jiggled a little bit.  By the time I got to the door, I saw a blond woman get back into the truck and pull away.  I thought she may have had the wrong house so I didn't say anything.  I do not know who she is. 

Now, I'm getting scared. 

The paranoia will go away when I'm out of the situation. 

It has to....

Edit 6/7/13 - 

My ex told me that his sister Shannon did this.  He gave me a picture of her and, yes, she is the woman who came to the door.  The red truck, well, it turned out to be sitting outside of my mother-in-law's house.  It is registered to a man named Doug (Lopez) Vega.  My ex gave me a picture of Doug.  He is the man who watched Tom and I eat lunch on January 11, of 2011.  He is the man who harassed my co-workers.  He is the man who stopped me on the street, pushed my shoulders, and called me Satan.

I'm terrified.

We put a camera up by the front door and changed the locks.  Within  three days, the back door lock was mangled.

I'm terrified now.

Love ya,

S.

Monday, October 8, 2012

Covert Hypnosis, Psychology and Ranting

Today I am thankful for having a graduate degree in psychology.

My personal focal point of my education was mind-body connections.  I was interested in how the mind enhanced sex.  I also wanted to know how our thoughts influenced our immunity.  I wanted to know how our self-esteem impacted our health decisions. 

I'm not kidding. 

This is who I am. 

I wanted to be a psychoneuroimmunologist before I actually found out I was married to a narcissist stalker dude who sat outside campus and let his sister harass my professors without my knowledge. 

Then there was the little thingy about his cousin wanting to marry him and stalking me to try to get me in trouble.  He'd always hear about it when she'd peek in my apartment windows as I tutored hot Mexican nationals trying to learn English. 

That was before we dated, too. 

I can't go into the whole 20+ years of stalking.  It is intermittent.  It comes and goes.  The longest lull I've had without stalking was two years.  In the past, they always blamed everyone else. 

They blamed my high school sweetheart, my other ex, my neighbors, the cops, some dude I never met at a church somewhere.  I believed it, too until a cop actually explained why they were sitting outside of my house.  That is what they do when they believe someone is in imminent danger. 

Yep....they know who my stalker is. 

My stalker and his family blamed everyone but themselves. 

I didn't want to believe the cops.  I caught my stalker when I was complaining about the stalking and he told me that the solution lies in stalking various people in order to find out who my stalker was.

A ha!! 

I know who my stalker is!!  It's the guy who thinks stalking is the only way to solve life's problems. 

He is the idiot terrorizing me at home. 

I finally lost it and started to get into my stalker's head.  It's actually kind of nice delineating what is happening. 

His mother thinks I stole her little man from the family.  She thinks that I hypnotized him to hate her.  I know this because she's said this to me, one of my friends, and to the man in the basement.   

When she asked him to do stuff, he wouldn't do it and said that I was keeping him from her.  She thinks that if I get out of the picture, she'll have her helpmate back.  I've heard this from his cousin.  I was told that his mother simply wants me out of the picture, so she can have her son back. 

I've been with this man for over twenty years.  The past twelve have been painful.  His mother cut him off and he moved into our basement.  We tried to reconcile a couple of times but he always ends up back in the basement.  He asked me to stay for the sake of the kids.  I did but now, he's just getting a little too weird for my taste. 

His mother does call, from time to time, to ask me to come clean her house.  She once claimed that I assaulted her, so I never visit....no matter what. 

I can't.  She's a liar.  I'm scared she's going to go running to the cops, both hands waving hysterically in the air, claiming that I amputated both her arms and legs in a fit of rage. 

I wouldn't put that past her. 

Her daughter likes to call to gloat about the stalking and the lying.  The daughter knows that her mother is lying but she has to perpetuate the myth as to tarnish me.  She sees me as competition and my reputation must be sullied.  She also said lying gives her a little adrenaline boost knowing that it upset me.

See the narcissism?  Wow...

His sister will also admit to stalking me years after the fact.  I only have 18 months to file charges.  After that, her admission of guilt does me no good. 

I put up with the crap for two reasons.  First, he threatened to kill himself if I left.  So long as he was in therapy, I said I'd stay.  He's dragging that out a tad bit too long. 

I also stayed because I thought he'd let me be a musician.  I thought he'd give me enough space in my own room to paint and draw.  I thought he'd let me write books and blog and do all those things that make life fun. 

The drama has killed my creativity. 

He's getting worse with age.  I'm getting scared of the guy. 

Actually, I think he's scared of me.  I ran for office and he is terrified of politicians.  I think that is where the violence is coming from.  He has gone into rages and told me that if I could give speeches, I could find a job and leave him.  He says that this is why he is controlling everything. 

I am not happy.  I've got to go. 

Either I make a safety plan or I get a restraining order. 

Recently, he threatened to stalk my high school sweetheart (those are fightin' words) and word has it that he may have sent an email telling one of my activist buddies never to speak to me again because I called him handsome. 

I call every man handsome...even a creepy stalker dude living in the basement.   

I'm NOT happy. 

Today, I spent a couple hours quizzing Mr. Stalker. 

This is what I learned. 

His sister, mother, cousin and aunt always stalk me and another in-law between the months of October and February.  They leave us alone between Valentine's Day and mid-October (his birthday).  I'm being told that his narcissist mother gathers a few lady relatives around for the holidays and schemes to harass the people they don't like. 

Oh....

He told me that his sister says she stalks me to force me to talk to her.  That is actually common stalker behavior. 

You know, if she wants to talk to me, she can call me and tell it to my recording equipment. 

Never harass a musician over the phone.  Never bug her in person either.  She always has a microphone on her person to record those little jingles that cross her mind at the oddest of times. 

Wanna talk?  Bring it....I'll tape it. 

My other hobby is photography.  It's fun to catch those stalker faces.  After I laughed at the moron they had harass me on a street corner, they've left me alone.  They don't harass me anymore now; they like to bother third parties, threaten them and spread malicious gossip.

I will never understand why these third parties never go directly to the police.  If a stalker bugs you or threatens you just call the cops.

Now that they've left me alone, I don't have any more interesting photography subjects. 

Bummer....

Still, this insight is helpful.   

There is a little issue of my not being allowed to outperform his sister.  For two years, she was recently in the news for losing a couple hundred pounds (yeah!!!! Way to Go!!!).  They left me alone during those two years. 

One day, after I gave a speech at a political event, I did an ego search on a local news site to see what they said about me (they said I railed against a corporate welfare project but didn't have a prayer of winning because I was unknown....sigh....at least they didn't call me crazy, or ugly, or late with dinner). 

Alongside my photo was hers and her story. 

Our names are very similar.  We have the same initials which is confusing for people here answering the phone when she calls.  They think she is me. 

Anyway, a week after we were in the news, she called the house to gloat. 

Oops...I guess I took away some of her narcissistic supply.  Stupid me....Ughh....

Then the hang-up phone calls started.  Then our phones quit working, so its not a problem anymore. 

A few months later, a GPS box fell off the rear, driver's side wheel well of my mini-van.  I was told the police department put it there.  I'm not so sure about that.   

I wasn't upset.  My rear tire had been smoking for days.  When I learned it was just a gps box, I felt relieved that my brakes hadn't gone out.  So...it's not a bad thing.  I just don't know why someone would go to that kind of effort to find out when I go grocery shopping.

People are weird.

Now, I'm dealing with a crazy guy making my life hell.  How dare I do something that takes his sister's thunder?

Today, he also told me that his family are alcoholics who fear authority figures.  So, I guess, I've got to spend a heck of a lot more time with my frenemies in politics since I won't be harassed by my stalkers this way. 

Anyone need a volunteer? 

Now, I know the truth.  It is a narcissist family system.  Daddy is a drunk.  Mommy is a narcissist.  Sister and cousin think they are going to earn an inheritance if they continue to do mommy's bidding. 

That's so weird.  If mommy is ever in a nursing home, that home will eat what little is left of their estate.  How much money can a bunch of stalkers have anyway?  If they're spending so much time keeping tabs on everyone else, how do they earn money? 

I am hearing that I am not the only victim of their stalking. 

Wow....

I'm putting together a flow chart of things I can do to stay safe.  I've done it all wrong. 

I gave up my business.  I need go into business with another powerful, well-educated person.   They are afraid of authority, so I've got to work for someone in a position of authority.  Okay, I can do that. 

I need to spend more time helping people in positions of power since they are terrified of authority figures. 

I wish I'd have shoved my pendulum in his face earlier. 

Love ya,

S. 

P.S.  If there was ever any proof that leaving a dead marriage is the right thing to do, this is it. 

I gave up sex to be stalked, harassed and treated like dirt by a bunch of narcissistic wolf puppies that I barely know.

This is the deal about mental illness and dysfunctional in-laws.  

Their problem are theirs.  They are not ours.  We do not accept responsibility for them just because we married into the system. 

It's not my stuff....it's theirs. 

I'll let you know if I can get a lawyer to dig me out of this mess. 

It'll be money well spent. 

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Self-Censorship

Today, I am grateful for self-censorship.
 
 
 
I was a bad girl today. 
 
Some guy was screaming in my face after I learned he stole several thousands of dollars from me.  He got a little too close and I smacked him out of fear.  I gave him a black eye.  Well, it wasn't a black eye.  My enchanted ring bruised his eyelid. 
 
He is stalking me and he is hinting at harassing two men I know.  One is an ex.  One is a friend.  I'm terrified of this guy. 
 
I never want to see him again.  He wants me to be his partner.  I want a restraining order.
 
I feel incredibly guilty for smacking him.  So, I've decided to curb my sharp tongue and my anger.  I'm going to censor myself. 
 
 
So, I'm kinda sad about my self-censorship but in retrospect I think it is going to help me get a good night's sleep. 
 
There is this cutie I know on Facebook.  He eschews alcohol.  So, when I posted the following picture, he thought it was a slam. 
 
 
I told him it was not a bad thing.  Many of my friends are wine tasters.  I am not a wine taster because I like to swallow. 
 
I deleted the comment after I realized it was an invitation. 
 
I can't be near men until my stalker gets arrested. 
 
I can't be alone with men until I find out why I hit someone bellowing in my face and minimizing how his stalking is hurting me.  It's not funny and it's going to get someone killed. 
 
Why can't he or his proxies stalk my prostitute sister?  Huh?  Why can't they look down the barrel of her pimp's rifle?
 
Maybe I need to go hang out near a less savory crowd.  That'll stop it in a hurry. 
 
I could start volunteering at the local prison.  Maybe that would do the trick.  Would they stalk me there? 
 
I feel like human garbage for hitting someone who hits the walls, my tables and bellows at me for hours on end. 
 
There is no excuse. 
 
If the cops can't help me, maybe a lawyer can.  Hanging with a lawyer is probably as unsavory as it gets.   
 
Love ya,
 
S. 
 


Friday, October 5, 2012

Gentlemen Friends

Today I am thankful for gentlemen friends.  


I've been avoiding one on and off for a little over eighteen months.   I don't want to say too much about it but he has taught me quite a bit about myself.  

  • I do not answer my phone fast enough.  
  • I can do anything, even give boring impromptu public speeches, with the support of my friends. 
  • Riding along in my car is an adventure. 
  • If I don't leave an hour before an event, I will always be late. 
  • The breath mints stored in my purse taste like perfume.  
  • I need to work on my driving anxiety. 
  • There is one poor soul in the world who will walk a mile to make sure I didn't get run over by a train because I tripped over my heels stepping onto a track.  
  • There is one sweet soul who will walk me through a crowd of zombie Obama devotees while guarding my back when talking to Romney henchmen.  


It's a cute friendship.  

There is nothing going on between us.  

But still...he's so nice and so open.  He doesn't make fun of me.  He doesn't freak out when I take a little bit too long in the ladies room.  He doesn't make fun of me when I dress up like a clown and he didn't say a word when the relaxer I put in my hair turned it a horrific bright orange. 

He didn't laugh or yell at me when I said that all I really wanted was a job and my independence. 

When I get excited about something and talk a little too fast, he'll repeat back what he heard and make me laugh.  Either I'm incoherent or he's going deaf...... but either way..... it is really funny.  

Maybe.....

I don't have to live in a celibate marriage anymore.  

I'm thinking about repacking my bags and looking for an apartment and a lawyer.  

I'm not sure he's the one but if that is what most men are like....

maybe it's time to move on.  

Hope.....kindness always brings one hope.  

I'm thankful to have such kind friends in my life.  Even if for a moment, the lessons they give last a lifetime. 

Love, 

S.  







Monday, October 1, 2012

Honest Men


 
 
 
Today I am thankful for honest men.
 
 
I had a friend from high school who would pal around without me a few years ago.  He was recently divorced.  My husband was missing in action. 
 
We had lunch.
 
We had soda.
 
We spoke about high school. 
 
 
I always paid for lunch because I didn't want to lead him on and because he was between jobs. 
 
He's my friend.  Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? 

Besides, there's a pretty blond who is interested in him and he makes eyes at her.  I can't steal him from her!!!  All I can do is hypnotize him into saying hello. 

Which is what I did.  I thought they were going out now. 

I guess not.  
 
 
There is another man who I've gone out to dinner with twice. 
 
 
The first time, I mistook him for another man of the same name who has severe agoraphobia.  When I got an email from a guy with the name of a married buddy of mine with agoraphobia expressing an interest to go out for coffee, I readily accepted. 
 
I mean, if I could get him out of the house, it would be a work of God and a favor to his wife.  How could I refuse?  I mean, I'm the one who helped him get therapy.  I thought he trusted me to help him
 
Of course, when I got to the restaurant, it turned out to be the other guy.  It wasn't coffee.  He wanted dinner.  When I caught him staring at my butt, I paid for our dinner and made some lame excuse about karma. 
 
He took me out again.  I paid again. 

Then he took me to a movie and ran ahead of me to slap money down on the counter so I couldn't pay. 
 
That's okay.  I'm going to send him a movie theater gift card and a T-shirt given to me by his favorite politician (which is another funny story entirely....maybe I'll post it below....maybe I won't....I don't know). 
 
 
When I asked if I could pay, he told me that he always thinks that men who pay for everything are "sly dogs".
 
 
Today, the first guy and a couple of other men from high school had a little Siegfred intervention. 

They made it clear that all men are dogs, even if I've dated them in the past, even if they are married, even if they are kind and sweet, even if they are limp and cold as a fish......they are perverts who are thinking about ways to get me to suck on their 'lil pup. 

Seriously? 
 
So, if a man goes to the mall, has lunch, or dinner with a woman it is soley because he wants sex. 
 
 
Oh, I saw no turbidity on either count. 

How was I supposed to know? 

My ex, he's tent city around me.  I don't let him get near me anymore. 

But the other guys...really?  Wow...this is an eye opening experience for me.

Maybe anorexia wasn't a bad thing as it kept me from sharing meals in mixed company. 
 
I have, in the recent past, had married men meet with me to tell me what they'd like to do to me.  They are also in dead marriages and/or separated.  They were usually as discreet and as classy as they could be about it.  I told them 'no' because I wasn't ready; it's cheating until the divorce is making headway. 

I can't cheat.  It's not in my blood. 

The truth is, if you want sex, you need to be open about it.  That is how it should be done.  Tell her you want to make a meal out of her and be done with the confusion. 

It's cheaper than going out to dinner to get shot down. 
 
What's so hard about that? 
 
My whole world view of men has been shot thanks to the openness of a few honest men. 
 
Wow....
 
 


Place for Documentation

  When I was a kid, I wanted to be a pilot.  My stepdad would talk about flying into Germany during World War II.  I'd spend my weekends...