Thursday, April 5, 2012

A Lesson from a Picture

We met in the most organic way...I accidentally stole his chair at a local bar while he was in the restroom. I offered to move to another table, but he was on his way out anyway. "I'm headed back up to my studio," he said. My ears tingled. "Studio?" I inquired, "What kind of studio?" "I'm a photographer," he replied.

A bit of background on me...my father was a photographer, my sister and brother are both photographers...therefore taking pictures is akin to taking your next breath in my family. I'm an actor first, but photography is a huge part of who I am.

"Can I see some of your work?" I asked. Turns out he wasn't just another photographer- he's one of the top commercial photographers in town. I was intrigued. We exchanged information.

He asked me out three times before I said yes. I was really wanting to stick to my temporary 'no dating' rule, but a little voice in the back of my brain kept whispering "what if...", so I finally relented. We had a blast- dinner, drinks, dancing...date one led to date two and so on...

He was one of those guys that was quick with a compliment- calling me smart, beautiful, funny. We were a few weeks in before the compliments began to sound more like insults. "You really are smart...cunning almost...like a man." "You really are beautiful, in that non-model sort of way." "You're funny- very dry and sarcastic...it's as if you don't care who you hurt."

He was in the midst of a move when we met, so it was several weeks before pictures went up on his walls. He had three children, yet most of the photos he hung were of him. Or nude models. "Dad, you can't put those in the LIVING ROOM!" his 14 year old daughter wailed one day. "Why not?" he asked. "Because, I have friends that come over, that's embarrassing!" I agreed with her which cost me quite the dirty look. "This is my art, I'll put it where I want to put it." he responded.

I should have run then, but I didn't. We continued to date, and he continued to push for a more serious relationship. There was enough good in him for me to keep him around, enough bad for me to have known better...

Six weeks in I invited him to meet my family. At one point in the evening he was discussing a dating site he'd like to create. In trying to prove how great his idea was, he asked my brother, (who has Aspergers and is very socially awkward) "Do you date?" "Uhm. not right now..." my brother stammered. "Is that because you're lazy or because you just can't get a girl?" Needless to say, he did not win my family's stamp of approval.

Later that evening we joined a few of my closest friends on a patio for some cocktails. He proceeded to get wasted and began hitting on one of my girlfriends. She stared at me like a dear in headlights, terrified I'd be angry with her. Of course I wasn't, I was simply embarrassed to have brought him with me. At one point he looked at my pregnant best friend and asked, "So what do you plan to do with your big belly situation once the kid gets here?" And so ended that evening of revelry.

Late that night, I broke up with him. He told me he wished he had never introduced me to his kids, that it was no wonder my husband 'faked being gay' to get away from me, that I would never find anyone that would actually want to have kids with me...on and on...I should have just ignored him, but it cut deep. Very deep.

In the week that followed, he used social networking to try and get to me. He posted about dates he was out on, posted photos of his new girlfriend (yes, it took him exactly 3 days to move on). Photos of them making out, photos of them at my favorite restaurant, etc. Then he started reaching out to my friends. They all ignored him. I finally had enough and blocked him on every site I could think of.

Here's where the story should end...BUT...

I'm a girl. And it's bothering me. His words and his actions have crept into my dreams, giving me fitful nightmares as I attempt to sleep. I'm less angry with him, and more angry with myself than I should be. The guy was a narcissistic jackhole, a bad father, an insecure passive aggressive man-child...and yet I willingly gave him 8 weeks of my time. Despite every imaginable red flag.

My therapist once said that we spend our adult lives trying to reconcile the painful relationships of our childhood. I was thinking about that this morning, and it does make sense. My father was a narcissist, a shyster, a pervert, and a liar. My mother did the best she knew how to do, but she was (and still is) quite verbally abusive toward my sister and I. A guy like the photographer is a perfect candidate for me to date- he's both my parents wrapped up into one! The problem is, I continue to date this same guy over and over and over...even though he may appear different in the beginning...he's the same guy.

Question is...how do I break the pattern? Recognizing it is step one I'm sure. But what is step two?

One of my favorite self-help sites sent out an email this morning discussing how to forgive, how to be grateful for the awful people that come into our lives and help us grow, how to take comfort in simply letting go...all very wise things. There are many changes on the horizon, and it won't take long at all for me to put the photographer completely out of my head. But I do hope I have the maturity to truly learn something from him. To learn something deeper about myself. To become a better person by realizing my own weaknesses. And to eventually stop the cycle...

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Dance Like a Ballerina

Friday, 4pm, I heard a loud clank ring out from the sidewalk in front of my house. 

Praying my fears weren't being realized, I walked over to the kitchen sink and turned it on.

No water.

Immediately I called my landlord (For this story, we'll simply call him Asshole Motherfucker, or AM for short).

Me: "AM, I told you this would happen- and my guess is this time they capped it and it can't be turned back on."

AM: "They always do this on a Friday afternoon, don't they?"

Me: "Well, you would know."

Ten months ago I moved into my gorgeous three bedroom house in a nice suburb in Texas. It was my first house post-divorce and the first time I was able to freely decorate to my own liking. I was over the moon! I immediately set up all of the utilities in my name...with the exception of...

Water.

'Someone' hadn't paid the water bill on this house for quite some time, and they needed proof that I had just moved in. I asked for a copy of my lease. The one I received from AM was completely unintelligible. He refused to give me anything different. So the water company asked for a warranty deed, proving he was the owner of the house.

He refused.

So they turned my water off, and AM promptly turned it back on. This has happened three times in the ten months I've lived here, and AM has continued to refuse to provide the necessary documents. 

Having made the decision to move to SoCal at the end of my lease, my greatest hope was that I could ride this out and get through the next 6 weeks with all of my utilities intact.

Not the case.

With six weeks left to go, my house is now unihabitable. As of this moment, AM is refusing to do anything about it. Which leaves me moving back in with family while I figure out my next steps. However, I work from home and have had to travel back and forth this weekend to get things done.

There are a million scenarios that could play out here...

I could sue, refuse to pay rent, and he could start the process of eviction. ( I have his refusals in writing, so in a court battle- I would win)
I can go down to the water company and beg like an orphan.
AM could do the right thing and pay his bill, and I could agree to pay the next two months until my lease ends.
I could move my office to another location, find a place in SoCal and go ahead and relocate ASAP.
And so on...

Here's what I know...this experience has taught me that I never want to be homeless (or an attorney). I've learned that I drink a lot of water, and that baths are still my favorite thing. I've been reminded yet again how amazing my friends and family are...

And I've been shown for the gazillionth time that life is going to keep me on my toes. My challenge? Learn to dance like a ballerina.

A really, really thirsty ballerina...

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Red and her Huggy Baby

My best friend, Red, found out she was pregnant on New Year's Eve. She had only been dating the dad for a couple of months and it's quite the understatement to say this news came as a bit of a shock. Thankfully, if anyone on the planet can do this, it's Red. She's smart, she's successful, she's thoughtful and nurturing. She's got this. Totally.

We had dinner tonight so she could show off the latest sonogram picture. "Huggy Baby" as I now refer to him is 10 weeks along and adorable (he looks like he's reaching for a hug in the photo).

At the end of dinner, Red began digging through her purse for her vitamins.

She couldn't find them.

"Oh my God, where are they?? (Dig, dig) Seriously, how do I think I'm going to raise a child if I can't even find VITAMINS in a PURSE?! (tears begin) I mean, I'm likely to leave the baby in the car...or...or...(more tears)"

Me, fascinated: "Oh..my..God...is this, like, one of those hormonal moments pregnant women go through?"

Red: [Look-from-hell that signifies I may have overstepped my bounds just a teensy itty bit.]

Me: [Giggles that quickly escalate to uproariously insensitive fits of laughter.]

Red: [Brow furrows, my time is drawing quickly to a close- death is emanate.]

Me: [Body-quaking laughter that leads to tears streaming down my own face.]

Red: "Oh, I bet you are a fucking HOOT at a funeral."

Love, love, love that Red...and her huggy little baby too.

Monday, February 6, 2012

Coffee Talk

I had a coffee date with my mother this evening.

Mom: "I thought you said you were going to change clothes before you left your house."

Me: "I did change clothes."

Mom: "Well holy shit, what WERE you wearing?!"

Me: "What's wrong with what I'm wearing? This is my favorite shirt!"

Mom: "It's a t-shirt! In public!"

Me: "Mom, it's a coffee shop for shit's sake!"

Mom: "What the hell does it say anyway?"


Mothers...no matter how old we get, they will never understand our sense of fashion. (Or lack there of)

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

There are Tales to Tell...

Tiny white Christmas lights glistened behind the stage as my friend's husband belted out the blues and let his fingers find notes on the guitar mine can only wish to someday play. I wrapped my hands and my heart tight around a pound of meat known as the best cheeseburger in town and allowed bits of mustard and relish to fall onto my Levis and then to the floor.

This was my kind of night...my kind of dive bar in my kind of city.

It would have been the perfect scene if it weren't for the fact that six of my closest friends were wiping tears from their eyes as they literally screamed with fits of laughter. What was so funny?

I had just casually mentioned that I am no longer dating...anyone. Nope, I am done with the male persuasion for quite some time. Uproarious laughter ensued.

"How long, exactly, have you been on the 'no boyfriend' wagon?" screeched Jack.

"3 weeks," I grumbled.

More fits of laughter. I kept my eyes on my burger and crammed a few more fries into my overstuffed mouth.

"I give her a week, TOPS!" hollered Jen.

"You know, this IS the longest I've seen her be single," said Tanya, with her thick southern twang.

"It's been FOUR MONTHS!" cried Steve.

"Five," I mumbled. More fries. More meat. More laughing.

I'd already decided that I was done trying to convince anyone that I had indeed turned over a new leaf...it's always better to 'do' than 'say' anyway. Besides, this was at least the third evening I had spent in the past week listening to my friends rip apart my dating history.

My sweet friend Alicia interjected, "You know, after the year you just had...I don't blame you one bit! Good for you!"

"YEAR?! Try the past 20 years!!" said Jack incredulously.  And well, he would know. Jack is one of my oldest friends, chronologically that is. We met when I was a teenager and have been best friends ever since. He was the one that flew half-way across the country to help me load a truck and leave my gay husband. He's a real friend, a great friend...the kind of friend that knows you won't dump him no matter how bad he teases you.

And so it began, yet another evening spent listening to: "Remember that one guy you dated KJ? He was REALLY bad...but not as bad as that other one you dated...holy shit- he was the worst! But then there was..."

So on...and so on...and so on...

As the stories were told I sat there wide-eyed. My God, is my man-picker really that shattered?

Shit....It so...totally...is.

24 hours later...after allowing that final bite of burger to dissolve in my mouth like sugar in warm milk, I'm staring at this blog with only one thought in my head...there are at least 1,579 reasons why I am done, DONE, with dating. And as a gift to myself I've decided it's time to start writing about the past. It's time to drudge up the stories of a thousand bad dates gone even more wrong...and at least a dozen relationships that ended up in the crapper.

I believe that by revisiting the liars, the cheaters, the abandoners, and even the one that got me arrested and strip searched in Mexico, I might find a way to stay on my new found path toward singlehood. If nothing else, there are some great tales to be told...and that's always entertaining....

(To be continued...)

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

It's About Time...

Time.

Such a beautiful, valuable little bitch...isn't she?

There is never enough time when we really need it, and yet it's fascinating how we can suddenly find a plethora when we really want it.

This past week my "life counselor" ("therapist" is SO 2011!) or "LC" for short, asked me to create a flowchart detailing the positive and negative characteristics of the last 6-8 men I dated. My chart began with LAD and ended with the man I dated right before I met my ex-husband. Also on the list were D and Ex-B who I've mentioned on this blog.

At the top of each paper, I wrote their name. Then I typed out a list of positive attributes, following it with a list of their awful ones. It didn't take long for me to grasp the concept of the assignment.

They were all the same man.

Sure, there were subtle differences here and there...but several words made it to each and every list.

Words like: charming, creative, intelligent, good conversationalist, talented, funny. All great qualities! But then: unpredictable, unreliable, jealous, controlling, stressful, self centered, inappropriate...and the one word on EVERY list?

Narcissistic

My entire life I've been instantly attracted to the man that walks in the room and steals the show. The one with the most charm that men want to be like and women simply want to be with. This guy can be a fun guy to date...as long as we both adore him equally.

LC also suggested I create one final list, for my father.

It was no surprise which words easily fell from my fingertips. I am the classical 'I continue to date my father over and over and over' tragedy of a woman. LC has continued to suggest that many of my relationships form from my need to resolve past issues. I'm attracted to women that remind me of my sister, and men that are clones of my father. All in an effort to 'make right' that which I was never able to as a child.

"I'm tired of dating my dad," I said.

"Then stop," said LC simply.

"How?" I asked.

Her reply went something like this: "Value your time. You give so much of your time to people who don't respect you. You forgive them so quickly! And while forgiveness is a wonderful trait, letting go of your valuable time to appease someone who has no intention of returning the favor isn't fair to you. When D wanted you to drive four hours to see him, you did. What has he done for you? When LAD wanted to spend New Year's with you, you gave up time with your friends to be with him, what did that earn you?"

Wow. I've never thought about my time like this, but you better believe I will from here on out!

We discussed that it's time I realize my father is long gone, and allowing an awful man to continually disrespect me is not going to heal that pain. It's time to forgive myself for any poor decisions I've made, and let go of the hurt from the things I could not and can not control. It's time to focus on my present and my future and create the world I've always dreamed of.

"I'm the most determined I've ever been to allow myself to be...myself. To accomplish all of my goals," I said.

"You use that word a lot...determined. I believe you," replied LC.

She took out a piece of paper and along the edge of the page wrote: DETERMINED

"Have you ever heard of an acrostic?" she asked.

"Yes"

Handing me the notepad, she said, "Without thinking, I'd like you to create one now..."

And so I did...

Dare
Enlighten
Trust myself
Evolve
Resolve
Meaningful days are ahead
Insightful
Necessary to do the Next thing
Elevate
Destiny awaits

I do believe...it's about time...

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

A Quick Hello

In the past week I've sat alone on the patio of a Greek cafe as my Australian waiter conversed with his Hispanic friends in flawless Italian. I've been chased for three blocks through Santa Monica by a man screaming 'die bitch' because I couldn't give him proper directions. I've climbed to the top of a hill and breathed in the Hollywood sign, captured photos of sailboats and sunsets in every city between the Pacific Palisades and Palos Verdes. I've dined on bone marrow and foie gras with a 6'6 bald man 15 years my senior while watching the ships roll into the bay under the light of a full moon. I slept on a chaise outside in 50 degree weather while listening to the sounds of wild owls. I awoke to a shooting star. I've spent more time than my pride will allow me to admit discussing the fashion choices of the modern day hipster.

I've cried while driving through the streets of Burbank because I've realized I am no longer intimidated by life.

I've discussed to the endless depths my past choices and future dreams, including an hour spent talking to my therapist about the various ways the men I've been attracted to somehow relate back to my awful father.

I've grown...and tonight my mind is as full as my spirit.

There are big changes on the horizon, and I expect this blog to begin to change along with me. If I'm completely honest, I spent over an hour last night with my mouse hovering above the words, "delete all". Yes, I almost sent this blog to internet purgatory and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't still an action I was considering.

If I've learned anything, it's that life is complicated. Sometimes we create our own complications, sometimes they are handed to us on broken platters. Our most important job is to continue waking up, getting out of bed, and finding some way to create magic out of the mystery.

I've also been reminded that if our hearts and ears are open, there are very wise people out there that will help keep us on the path toward the best "us". These selfless cheerleaders are the reason to push on, for there is no better way to say 'thank you' than by proving that they were right to support you all along.

As the week moves forward, I plan to share more of my journey from the past 10 days. How I've discovered an unyielding gratitude for LAD and D...and many others. How I've realized I am so much stronger than I ever knew. How I've found myself officially off the market and on the wagon, while not having a boyfriend or a drinking problem. How Independence and Determination have become my new best friends.

And...how to properly dress and act...as a Hipster.

All good things...very good things.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

If I Was Ur Bf

Surprisingly, I heard from LAD earlier today.

One short email in response to me catching him boinking another woman over the weekend:

"Alcohol and casual dating always end badly, so relax. Par for the course. If I was ur bf, u weren't in the hotel, I slept with ur sis, that would have been worse. So drop it! It's not as big a deal as ur making it."

I'm appalled. Gut-wrenchingly, vomit-in-my-mouth disgusted.

I mean...REALLY!

WHO uses 'bf' and 'ur' in an email?

And not having any knowledge of the subjunctive tense?

It's just...sick.

Seriously- LAD being kind and gentle enough to point out that at least he didn't sleep with my sister...I was almost willing to forgive and forget! And once I realized that he also didn't piss in my hair before chopping off my hand and throwing me from the 33rd floor while simultaneously schtupping five of my best girlfriends...I was beginning to believe this man was my soulmate!!

But now I know, beyond any shadow of a doubt...with a writing style like that...this was never really meant to be.

*tear*

(Though, if porking a random girl during our date while I'm one room over is considered 'par for the course'...is bumping uglies with my sister considered a Bogey?)

(Also, a quick disclaimer, lest anyone start to think I'm smarter than I am: "subjective tense' was a phrase thrown at me by a good friend and I stole it, after looking up the definition of course! I was born in West Texas...anything over two syllables requires Google and an Advil.)

A Celebration of Strength

It's day 3 of a new year, and I refuse to let my previous blog post sit alone on this page for any longer than it already has. This morning I awoke with a fresh bounce. It didn't hurt that the first official work day of the new year began with a nice little gig, and another to knock out this afternoon. But that has little to do with my attitude...or should I say gratitude.

Yesterday I literally spent hours on the phone talking with family and friends. Four hours to my mother alone! If I were on the outside looking in, and this same weekend had happened to an acquaintance- "What was that dumb girl thinking?" would be the only thing ringing through my brain. And yet not one person has asked me that, not one person has made me feel bad about my choices. In fact, my best friend CC had only one question for me..."Why aren't you more angry?"

The answer is simple. LAD acted as himself. A liar, an addict, an awful person. He has a serious sickness, and I was the fool for believing he could behave in any way other than what has already been shown. Therefore, the only person I can be angry with is myself.

But then, what does that earn me? A few sleepless nights and days spent on the sofa eating crappy food and watching lame reality shows? No. I can act better than that. I can find more useful ways to spend my time.

Two nights ago I slept on my sofa because I was too depressed to drag myself alone to bed. Last night, I exuded every effort to crawl under the covers, pick up a notebook and a pen, and begin writing. Before scribbling some melancholy diatribe about a year gone wrong that ended with a whimper, I thought long and hard about this past weekend. Here's the reality: I'm alive, I'm safe. I wasn't drugged, I wasn't raped. Sure, I found my date in our hotel room having sex with a strange woman. Ouch. But does that really need to affect me for even a second longer than the time it took me to say my piece and pack my bags? No. Pen to paper, I began writing:

"I am loved and bathed in light, my anxiety a tiny baby I cradle in my arms and sing to sleep. I am unbroken, turning shades of grateful as that which might make me dull will not make me unremarkable. Tears of tired roll down my cheeks while my lips refuse to release their smile. There is music in this silence, and I do so love music. Lessons are diamonds and experience is gold, both worth so much more as time unfolds. I am taking control, feeling my skin, celebrating my strength, and healing within. Fear finally fleeing, Faith my newest friend, eyes finally seeing, soul making amends. As I thread my fingers through the hands of time, I know there will be bumps ahead...but now I can finally do things right and realize I have nothing left to dread."

A plan for the new year is in the works. As I mentioned before...no dating, no drinking, no late nights until I've earned my confidence back. Every time I feel lonely, I'll hit a coffee shop or call a friend. Every time I feel bored, I'll pick up my camera and practice my skills. When I feel lost, I'll find one new way to market my business. And I'll force myself to do these things until they become second nature.

I'll find even more reason to laugh, more reason to write, more reason to share time with others. I'll meditate in the space I have created and love that I was given my own space to begin with. It's time to work toward forgiveness...forgive my ex, forgive my past, forgive myself. Yes, it will take time, but it can be done.

My friend THOR (THe Original Rockstar) said it best...it doesn't matter what time the drama technically took place. This weekend was not the beginning of my 2012, it was the ending of my 2011. 2012 is fresh, it's new...and it's mine for the taking.

As I begin a healthier journey moving forward- my ears, eyes, and heart are open for any and all advice. How do you plan to move forward in 2012? Cope with anxiety or difficult times? Where is your bliss?

I've created an email account to go with this blog, since I know many people are uncomfortable leaving comments. kjordinary [at] gmail [dot] com. Emails will never be shared without permission, and as you know- on this blog I never give names. The truth is, we are all on a journey down a path of self improvement., and I'm grateful to have the opportunity to walk alongside you...

Monday, January 2, 2012

Invite the Lion, Prepare to be Eaten

We all have our breaking points. That moment when your limbs become numb and the scene turns into a fish-eyed snapshot of the reality you've allowed yourself to create.

I reached that point this weekend and have spent the last two days talking with friends and family, searching my soul, and creating a plan to ensure I never do this to myself again.

And while I hesitate to tell this story in a blog...lest it brand me as the world's biggest fool...I think it's important to hold myself accountable for my actions and hopefully learn something valuable in the process.

Who knows, maybe someone reading this will learn something as well and it will have at least been worth it...a little.

The backstory...

If you've read any of my past blogs, you may remember the story of LAD- the LA Douche. (Click here if you would like to read the post) Despite LAD wrapping up our previous weekend together by being the biggest asshole on the planet, I've for whatever reason continued to be friends with him. 3 weeks ago LAD confided in me that he has been drug-free since that weekend, and that he wasn't comfortable going out on New Year's in LA because he might be tempted to walk a dangerous path, which he didn't want to do.

My first mistake...

Trying to be a good person, I invited LAD to fly to Texas to join me for the New Year since I don't do drugs, don't have any friends that do them, and have absolutely no idea where to find them if I did want to do them. In a million years I never thought he'd accept the invitation...and yet he did.

The plan...

LAD made reservations to fly in, stay with me for one night, and then rent a hotel for us for two nights downtown to watch the fireworks and check out the city. I was nervous, but he assured me he would be on his best behavior and would not make the same mistakes as last time.

The reality...

Oh boy...where to begin? After arriving, I took LAD to a friend's restaurant downtown. My friends loved him. He had a couple of cocktails, but was very low key and in a fantastic mood. Saturday we drove into the city and spent the day walking around, even going to the local aquarium for a bit. Then we got ready for dinner and what I hoped to be a great evening ringing in 2012. It was a wonderful meal with interesting conversation. LAD was very complimentary of me, my house, my friends, my life. Even going so far as to say that while he has a lot to work on to get to a healthy place,  he was very anxious to see what could ultimately happen between the two of us- that he hoped it could turn into something special.

I listened with a fair amount of skepticism, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping for the best.

After dinner we went up to the 33rd floor of the hotel, where LAD had reserved a table at the bar to watch the fireworks over the city. The table was huge..and right in the middle of the dance floor. He had also ordered a bottle of Vodka and a bottle of champagne. I asked him if it was possible to drink and not do drugs...he assured me that it was more than possible. I chose to believe him.

Because our table was so huge, and it was just the two of us, we invited several new 'friends' to join us. Basically, we created our own party. The hour struck midnight and we popped open the bottle of champagne as fireworks went off around us. It was magical. At one point one of the gay guys at our table mentioned that it was obvious how crazy LAD was for me. "He can't keep his eyes off you- it's adorable!" Sipping his champagne, LAD leaned into my ear and said, "This thing between you and I could really be something." I was literally and figuratively on top of the world.

Then, LAD ordered more bottles of alcohol and things quickly began to spiral out of control. I drank too much, he drank too much, we all drank too much. LAD suggested we take the party back to our suite and we did. Around 3am everyone started to leave except one pretty little blonde. "It's time for you to go..." I told her. "I just have to use the restroom," she replied. She stumbled into the other room. After enough time had passed I asked LAD to check on her and get her to leave (she was also staying in the hotel). Minutes later, when neither of them had returned, I walked back to see what the hold up was.

The crash...

Sadly, some things can't be unseen. They sit behind our eyes like a brand sits on the backside of cattle.

There they were. The blonde, naked, lying in our bed. LAD, shirt off, pants around his ankles, lying on top of her.

They were having sex.

I'm not sure what I yelled out, but I heard my own voice loud and clear- startling them both. For what seemed like an eternity we all froze...then things began happening in slow motion. I fled the room and clumsily stumbled over to the sofa. LAD walked out, zipping up his pants, as the blonde fled the hotel room in her underwear, clutching her clothes. "How could you?!" I asked in a voice that was not quite my own. "It's not my fault- I went in to tell her to leave and she was naked on the bed, she started ripping my clothes off!" "Couldn't you have said no?!" I sobbed. "You don't understand- she's really hot naked!"

And there you have it. I'm the world's biggest fool for giving this guy a second chance. Long story short, I was extremely upset. LAD announced he wasn't going to 'deal with my drama' and took a cab to a party an LA friend had told him about. Drunk and distraught, I went to bed on the sofa. At 7am, LAD woke me up and asked me to go in the bedroom so he and his new guy-friend could hang out and drink. He also asked me to turn on the radio on my way out of the room. Numb, I obliged. At 8am he woke me again to tell me he was going back to the party. At noon he arrived back at the hotel as I was packing my things to go.

I started to say something, but he stopped me, "If you are wanting to talk about last night, there is nothing to say- so I'd rather not discuss it." I kept packing. After a quick shower, I walked back in his room and woke him up. I exploded...a thousand words came out of my mouth at once, but they honestly don't matter now. Yelling at him changed nothing. He listened and replied that he was genuinely sorry but there was nothing he would ever be able to say that would make it right. "I'm a crazy person with a lot of issues, it is what it is," he stated.

As the bellman loaded my luggage onto the cart, LAD said simply, "Thanks for inviting me to join you for the weekend." "Yeah, sure...it was fun, you know...until it wasn't," was all I could think to say.

The aftermath...

I have not spoken with LAD since I walked out that door nor do I intend to ever again. I assume he made it onto his flight this morning...but it's not really my concern.

I'm hurt. I'm humiliated. I'm angry...with myself mostly.

More than anything I realize it's time for some serious soul searching and very dramatic life changes. Why do I continue to allow these men back into my life after they have hurt me? What am I expecting? The craziest thing is, I think I know where this is coming from. In not allowing myself to fully deal with the intense hurt I felt in my marriage (living with a man who would not touch me or connect with me emotionally), I've been seeking attention from men that are the complete opposite of my ex-husband. Where he was stable, put together, and quite frankly a bit boring...I'm finding myself drawn to the guys that are spontaneous, hyper-sexual, narcissistic, and a bit crazy. It's affecting my self confidence and destroying my self worth.

It's well past time for it to stop. I made one giant stride recently by finding a good therapist, now it's time to put the pieces of my broken puzzle back together and find a stable, healthy mental place where I can exist and stop being so damned self-destructive.

My first step, in my opinion, is to stop dating and start focusing on becoming the person I know I can be. It's much easier said than done, but by holding myself accountable for my actions it will be done. It's also time for me to stop going to bars. I drink more than I should, and I realize this is me numbing my pain. I have a business to focus on and many other talents to explore. Every minute spent with a hangover is a horribly wasted minute. And every second spent with a man that will never full appreciate me or treat me with the respect I deserve is a disgustingly wasted second.

I've decided that while I have many goals for 2012, I will only have one resolution: If a person is undeserving of my time or attention, then they won't be getting it.

My conclusion...

This weekend I knowingly let a lion into my house, and acted like a piece of meat. But while he may have bitten me...hard...he didn't eat me alive.

Therefore, it's time to grow up and treat myself with the respect I deserve.