Today I think I am thankful for funny pain: I think I found a reason to laugh a little.
Well...I may have figured out what made my friend Steve freak out.
I spent three days away from home at a political convention. I'd say that 2/3 of the participants were male.
I work as a hypnotist. I would say that 2/3 of the people in my profession are male.
In fact, my hobbies include many male dominated things. I play bass. I create websites. I do psych research. I am an author but have only managed to publish self-help articles.
I am an artist. Art has about a 50/50 split gender wise.
I have a lot of male colleagues and most of them are NOT interested in a relationship. They are interested in leads. They are interested in inspiration. They are interested in activism and getting volunteers. They are interested in business, educational, or political collaboration. They are NOT interested in getting it on with me.
I was so busy last week that I rarely checked into Facebook. It was over that weekend that Steve flipped out and alienated my friends after he blocked me. He didn't delete his messages. His comments are still on my page but I cannot read them. My posts will say that I have a certain number of comments but I'll only be able to see some of them.
I never got to send him my mentalism information.....I'm so bummed. If you ever want to mess with a man's mind, teach him mentalism.
Sigh...
One of my colleagues is promoting his romantic poem business. He does this by posting beautiful customized poetry to the pages of his female friends.
On Saturday, he posted a beautiful poem to my Facebook page a few hours before Steve flipped out. He basically wrote things about me that Steve said attracted him to me. He was far less eloquent than Steve.
This man has never met me in person. All he knows is what I post and what news articles he can find about me (if he even bothers to look).
So, today, I finally got in the mood to answer my online comments. I just saw the poem on my wall.
This man wrote that he is down under.
I could see the confusion.
Down under does not mean that he went under there.
No one goes under there in my world without extreme vetting. Steve was close.
By 'down under' he means that he is in Australia.
Why that would make anyone jealous is beyond me.
He comes from the land down under.
Where women glow and men thunder...or is it plunder?
It's plunder.
Oh, jealous men thunder.
Australian men plunder when they have something decent to go after.
I have no gold. I have no diamonds. I'm ugly as sin. They'd leave me alone.
He comes from a place where beer does flow and men chunder,
and where every woman is a Sheila.
Sheila was my birth name. I was orphaned. It was changed.
People still call me Sheila.
So, if such a man ever writes that he loves Sheilas....please understand that they may well be named Nancy, Kylie, Brooke, Hillary, Catherine, Ann or have any number of feminine monikers.
Could this be what set Steve into a confusing mass of nonsensical hysteria?
If so, it is quite funny.
Steve getting upset wasn't funny.
The situation is funny.
It is quite painful...but funny.
Lord help us!
My friends say he'll come back. I'm not so sure but I want to put it into a proper perspective should we ever cross paths again. I don't want to lose my sense of composure if I have to give a speech in the same room with him again.
He doesn't love me. His declarations were premature. I knew that. Most men wait forever to say those words. He was just lonely. I'm not what he wants. It's probably a good thing he blocked me because all those declarations of love are erased from my page. That way, if his future love hunts me down, she'll never see those.
That's pretty cool!
I think it'll be okay.
Love ya,
S.
P.S. It gets worse. I updated my TweetDeck today so I don't see his feed anymore. It hurts to see his avatar. Sadly, I saw one of his Tweets. Do you know what he wrote the day before he went bonkers?
I'm going to paraphrase to preserve his privacy. I don't want him to be found in a Google search.
Steve basically stated that people need the government to tell them whether or not they are married.
I think that could provide a clue to a reason for the anger.
He may be mad I won't put out because I'm not officially divorced.
Steve fancies himself an anarchist. He's not. He's a Libertarian, especially if one goes on that standby definition of a Libertarian being a conservative screwed over by the government.
An Anarchist wouldn't have cooperated enough to let the government bend him over.
We both have been screwed by the government.
He's old fashioned. If I so much as kiss him before this fiasco is settled, it would be horrid if we were to hook up. He'd always be looking over his shoulder wondering if I were kissing other men.
Until he can see how transparent I really am, I can't even go there.
Besides, I don't need the government to define my marital status. My stalking ex does. Until it is made explicitly clear that the relationship is over, I fear my friend and I will end up looking down the barrel of his sister's pistol. Until I get my Glock, I won't be able to win a gunfight because the only protection I have will be my high heeled boots. Steve may be overestimating his ability to fight a 300+ pound woman and her 500+ pound brother. I don't care how strong a man is, all these stalking fools have to do is sit on him and he's toast.
What a way to go! They don't wipe well. It's not the best smell in the world. I would hate that to be the last thing he breathes in.
Oh...it wouldn't be pretty.
Shudder......
Sooo.....
I find myself amused yet again.
Love ya,
S.