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...
Thursday, April 5, 2012
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.
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?"
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...)
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...
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.
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.)
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...
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
My Landlord and His Leaks
Last week my upstairs toilet broke. No, I didn't do anything weird to it, it sprung a slow random leak from the pipe that connects the toilet to the wall, and thankfully the leak was slow enough not to do any damage to the floor. Recently I lost all of my phone contacts, including my landlord's number, so I shot him a quick email. Knowing it's the holidays and he might not get it until the new year, I shut the water off in the bathroom and got back to life. I mean, there are two other toilets in my house for crying out loud, and I am one tiny little single girl!
This morning I received a frantic call: (As you read this, imagine the strangest, most robotic voice ever.) "KJ, this is your landlord. I've just finished reading your electronic mail (yes, this is what he called it). Why did you not call me?"
Me: "Well landlord, as I explained in my note, my phone was stolen, my back-up failed, and I lost all of my contacts. But no worries- I shut the water off and figured it could wait until you had time to stop by."
Landlord: "But I only just got your electronic mail because you never called, I mean, what will your mother think? (Yes, my landlord has an intense fascination with my mother...has even been known to call her if I don't return his messages in a 'timely fashion'.)
Me: "Landlord, it's fine. When will you be coming by?"
Landlord: "1pm"
12:59, he arrived. My landlord is obviously a strange man, but he looks even stranger than he acts. He's short, stocky, has hair that desperately needs a trim (think Beatles in their heyday), and often wears clothes that don't exactly flatter his figure. Today he had on a white undershirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.
As soon as he walked through the door- I saw it. A giant wet spot covered his crotch. Now, I've seen men who didn't properly shake off the access, and had a small spot or two...but this was a really big spot!! Not a 'I've totally just peed myself' spot, but a 'Oops, I didn't even bother to give it a little shake before stuffing it in my pants and clearly deciding not to wear underwear' kind of spot.
I immediately averted my eyes and tried to stare at the wall.
Then, I heard a voice, and in my mind I was positive the wet spot had begun talking to me: "So, you haven't had any psycho boys in this house lately, have you?"
My eyes popped forward again, and I realized it was indeed my landlord speaking instead of the pee stain. Me: "4 last night...but only 3 were really psycho...that's ok, right?"
My landlord has the sense of humor of a basketball hoop. He simply snorted.
I ducked into my office while he went about repairing the toilet. A few minutes later he appeared at the door.
"Your leak is fixed, is there anything else?"
Fighting every urge to say: 'You might consider fixing your leak', I smiled and said everything else was fine.
Landlord: "Next time, make sure you call me so I can arrive quicker. I wouldn't want your mother disappointed in me."
He spent a few minutes asking far too many questions about my mom (My mother is genuinely freaked out by all of this, in case you wondered.), and he eventually left.
I checked the bathroom to make sure both leaks had been properly contained and hadn't made their way to the floor, and then allowed myself a few seconds of painfully...uproarious...laughter.
Monday, December 26, 2011
2012
2010...The year it all happened to me.
2011...The year 'I' happened to me.
2012...The year 'I' happen to IT ALL.
I've just spent the last hour sitting in the empty third bedroom of my house sobbing uncontrollably over an empty dog crate screaming, "GIVE HER BACK TO ME!" to...I don't know...God? Myself? That dark empty space in time where things don't always go the way we wish they did? In the end it doesn't really matter...she isn't coming back.
Instead, I'm left with memories and the faint smell of her soft fur on a tiny stuffed bunny.
2010: I accepted there was nothing left to do to save my marriage, loaded up my car, and drove halfway across the country to live with my mother. Weeks after arriving I learned I had to have major abdominal surgery, which took me three months to recover from. During the recovery period, I was told I most likely had breast cancer. Many procedures later, a mass was removed from my left breast and I was informed I was cancer free. Days later, my niece passed two weeks before her due date. I was there for her delivery, and spent the next month grieving with my sister before giving the eulogy at the baby's memorial. The entire time, I was fighting back and forth with my husband, begging for a quick and easy divorce.
2011: I got my divorce. I lost everything financially in the process, but I got my divorce. I rented a house, broke up with the piece of shit man I dated during my recovery and began the process of healing.
About the time I took my first breath in over a year...my best friend, my dog, died unexpectedly from a brain tumor at 5 years old.
Yes, it's a dog. I get it. But in my eyes- she was the child I never got to have, she was the friends I had left behind with every move, she was my closest family, and the one who had comforted me through my darkest days. Nearly four months later, as I finally begin moving her things from their original spots, as I take down the mountains of framed pictures and little shrines I set up around the house...I realize it isn't just my best friend I am grieving...I am grieving all of the things that didn't go the way I wanted them to.
And I have to admit...it feels good. Really good. As a strong, independent woman it's often difficult for me to really grieve. I'd rather move on to the next thing and bury my feelings (lest anyone judge me or think me weak). I am not weak. I am human. And it's ok to mourn the loss of a dog as I would the loss of a family member.
If you break a leg, and I break a finger...should my finger hurt less because it's a smaller bone? No. Pain is pain. Period.
However, I do not see 2011 as a year of pain. It has been a year of recovery. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. It's been a year of discovery. Who am I when I stand alone? What do I really want now that I have an open road in front of me and can walk in any direction I choose? What makes me happy? What do I want to do today, tomorrow, ten years from now?
How very exciting, how very frightening, how very challenging to discover these answers and a thousand more.
Today I am sitting in a beautiful three bedroom home I decorated on my own with furniture I bought with my own money. I am paying my own bills and making my own choices. Yes, I'm stumbling from time to time, some days I make everything more difficult, some days I get it right. But what matters is that I'm finally doing life...my way.
My therapist asked me to create a metaphor for the last 2 years of my life: "It's as if I was tied to a train track and the world's longest freight train was rolling over me. Every time I tried to sit up, I was knocked back down." "Then what?" She asked. "Then...one day the caboose rolled over me, and there were no more cars. The ropes fell away and I stood up." "What did you learn?" "I learned that I am so much stronger than I could have ever imagined."
2012: Some say our time will end. I don't believe this. For me, my time is just beginning. It's a new era, a new way to exist, a new me. I'm finally accepting the things I can not change. I can not bring my dog back. I can not blink my eyes and be a happily married mother. I can not create the perfect partner or a storybook life. I can not give my sister her baby back, I can not take away her pain.
What I can do is make each day as meaningful as possible. I can grieve, cry, let go, and move on. I can dance alone in my living room for hours, or play guitar badly and loudly without judgement. I can capture the world in pictures, and express myself through my art. I can find ways to do the things I love and share my gifts with others. I can relax, enrich my mind, body, and soul...and become a better person. A person I would want to spend the rest of my life with. I can tell my family I love them.
Every day I can find one hour in which to do one thing that makes me...me. I know my truth lies somewhere between the tragedy and the comedy of the last few years. It lives in that small space inside of me that is grateful for every railcar that drove over me, for every mistake, for every judgement, for every hurt that brought me to the place where I can scream and cry as the sounds of a piano rise from the speakers below, and know I'm ok.
This is ok.
2010...the year I am grateful for.
2011...the year I am even more grateful for.
2012...the year I can't wait for.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
The First Rule of Fight Club...
Earlier this week, I decided to take another one of my 'secret trips' out of town. This time, I headed south to one of my favorite cities...Austin.
If you are a regular reader of this blog, you might remember me mentioning my friend 'D'. D has danced in and out of my life for the better part of 15 years, and I'm quite certain that if I were handed a Benjamin every time this guy broke my heart, I would be pushing something resembling 'rich' any day now.
D is in Austin for the month of December shooting a movie and invited me to come and stay with him during the days that he wasn't filming. My first instinct upon receiving this invitation was to calmly and clearly scream, "FUCK NO, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" But, the cooler side of me kicked in and I instead politely reminded him that after having spent nearly the entire month of October with me- he had failed to contact me once until now...essentially making me his Texas booty call.
And while there are many 'Texas' things I am very proud to be...a booty call ain't one of them.
We talked for a long, long time and he explained that the reason he had backed away so suddenly was because of his own fear. We had "become so close in such a short time" that he panicked (his words here) and his 'self preservation kicked in' causing him to push me out of his mind. You see, D has issues with the tragic loss of his mother when he was younger, as well as the difficult ending to his marriage a decade ago. Now he keeps everyone in his life at arm's length to avoid feeling pain. Or so he claims anyway. (Still smelling that 'booty call' thing are ya? Yup. Me too.) There really is truth in much of this, but we all have issues...you just have to find who's issues yours play most nicely with. And the other thing about issues is that they can suddenly disappear when you truly care for someone deeply enough.
After several calls over several days, D finally convinced me to make the trip down. It really wasn't that hard...a kick ass hotel in a kick ass town, meals on him, and a chance to get caught up on some holiday shopping? I'm in! (OK, that's bullshit. I did no holiday shopping- I did however buy myself a crap ton of clothes and shoes!)
As I wheeled my bag into the lobby of the hotel, there stood D...waiting. He greeted me as though my ship had just arrived from Iraq after a two year tour of duty. For a minute- I believed this guy really had missed me! Then, I remembered it's D...actor extraordinaire.
Night one was awesome- dinner, wine, tons of laughter (this guy can make me laugh like no one else on earth). Chemistry, chemistry, chemistry. Back at the hotel- we had our 'talk' again face to face. Lots of apologies from his end, and a great number of excuses for his behavior. I bought every tenth word or so.
Day two we shopped, then had dinner with some of his friends and their awesome mom, Kat. Day three was supposed to be my day to return home, but I was talked into staying one more night to see a local legend in concert (SO glad I did this!!!).
Ahhh...yes, Day Three. This. THIS...was a good day. We spent the entire day downtown browsing shop after shop. We had an amazing meal, just the two of us, and headed to the venue to meet our friends and their mom.
At some point during the evening, we all ended up in a back alley (holy cow those Austinites can put down the Mary Jane!). Kat, remarkably high on her medical marijuana, decided to lay into D like no mother has laid into her non-child before. It. Was. AWESOME!
Kat: "D- I need to talk to you. I've been watching you with this girl for the past two days- and you guys have serious chemistry. It's the real deal. And I've decided- if you two break up, we are keeping her- not you."
D: (wide-eyed) "We aren't a couple."
Kat: "WHAT?! Are you insane?! Don't be stupid D- this girl is special. You won't find this again. People wait their whole lives to find what the two of you have- this is real. You two are a comedy act...you should take this show on the road! I'm telling you...don't let this slip you by. You will regret it."
Me: (cough, cough, elbow, elbow, mild foot stomp)
D: (eye roll, puff puff)
And then...then...it hit me. I looked D straight in the eyes.
Me: "You know, I am special. And this is something that could be real. But if you are too stupid to get that...then you aren't my guy. Or at least a guy that I would ever want. Bottom line, if you can't see what you are missing by not being with me- then quite frankly...I don't want to be with you."
(Fight Club reference time...)
I am KJ's self confidence returning.
The following day D walked me to my car and kissed me sweetly goodbye. Leaning forward, he whispered confidently in my ear, "I know what you're wondering...will he call?" I delicately whispered back, "Nope. Not really."
Austin...I sure do love that town.
If you are a regular reader of this blog, you might remember me mentioning my friend 'D'. D has danced in and out of my life for the better part of 15 years, and I'm quite certain that if I were handed a Benjamin every time this guy broke my heart, I would be pushing something resembling 'rich' any day now.
D is in Austin for the month of December shooting a movie and invited me to come and stay with him during the days that he wasn't filming. My first instinct upon receiving this invitation was to calmly and clearly scream, "FUCK NO, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" But, the cooler side of me kicked in and I instead politely reminded him that after having spent nearly the entire month of October with me- he had failed to contact me once until now...essentially making me his Texas booty call.
And while there are many 'Texas' things I am very proud to be...a booty call ain't one of them.
We talked for a long, long time and he explained that the reason he had backed away so suddenly was because of his own fear. We had "become so close in such a short time" that he panicked (his words here) and his 'self preservation kicked in' causing him to push me out of his mind. You see, D has issues with the tragic loss of his mother when he was younger, as well as the difficult ending to his marriage a decade ago. Now he keeps everyone in his life at arm's length to avoid feeling pain. Or so he claims anyway. (Still smelling that 'booty call' thing are ya? Yup. Me too.) There really is truth in much of this, but we all have issues...you just have to find who's issues yours play most nicely with. And the other thing about issues is that they can suddenly disappear when you truly care for someone deeply enough.
After several calls over several days, D finally convinced me to make the trip down. It really wasn't that hard...a kick ass hotel in a kick ass town, meals on him, and a chance to get caught up on some holiday shopping? I'm in! (OK, that's bullshit. I did no holiday shopping- I did however buy myself a crap ton of clothes and shoes!)
As I wheeled my bag into the lobby of the hotel, there stood D...waiting. He greeted me as though my ship had just arrived from Iraq after a two year tour of duty. For a minute- I believed this guy really had missed me! Then, I remembered it's D...actor extraordinaire.
Night one was awesome- dinner, wine, tons of laughter (this guy can make me laugh like no one else on earth). Chemistry, chemistry, chemistry. Back at the hotel- we had our 'talk' again face to face. Lots of apologies from his end, and a great number of excuses for his behavior. I bought every tenth word or so.
Day two we shopped, then had dinner with some of his friends and their awesome mom, Kat. Day three was supposed to be my day to return home, but I was talked into staying one more night to see a local legend in concert (SO glad I did this!!!).
Ahhh...yes, Day Three. This. THIS...was a good day. We spent the entire day downtown browsing shop after shop. We had an amazing meal, just the two of us, and headed to the venue to meet our friends and their mom.
At some point during the evening, we all ended up in a back alley (holy cow those Austinites can put down the Mary Jane!). Kat, remarkably high on her medical marijuana, decided to lay into D like no mother has laid into her non-child before. It. Was. AWESOME!
Kat: "D- I need to talk to you. I've been watching you with this girl for the past two days- and you guys have serious chemistry. It's the real deal. And I've decided- if you two break up, we are keeping her- not you."
D: (wide-eyed) "We aren't a couple."
Kat: "WHAT?! Are you insane?! Don't be stupid D- this girl is special. You won't find this again. People wait their whole lives to find what the two of you have- this is real. You two are a comedy act...you should take this show on the road! I'm telling you...don't let this slip you by. You will regret it."
Me: (cough, cough, elbow, elbow, mild foot stomp)
D: (eye roll, puff puff)
And then...then...it hit me. I looked D straight in the eyes.
Me: "You know, I am special. And this is something that could be real. But if you are too stupid to get that...then you aren't my guy. Or at least a guy that I would ever want. Bottom line, if you can't see what you are missing by not being with me- then quite frankly...I don't want to be with you."
(Fight Club reference time...)
I am KJ's self confidence returning.
The following day D walked me to my car and kissed me sweetly goodbye. Leaning forward, he whispered confidently in my ear, "I know what you're wondering...will he call?" I delicately whispered back, "Nope. Not really."
Austin...I sure do love that town.
Monday, November 28, 2011
And So the Fog Begins to Clear...
Prologue: As I sit here, with this blog written, I'm hesitant to hit 'publish'. Yes, this blog was created so I could share my experiences and my journey as I navigate life post-divorce. Still, I saw it as a tongue-in-cheek look at my bizarre dating life, or those silly stories that happen late on a Saturday night with friends after one too many drinks beginning with the letter 'T'. And yet, here I sit- contemplative and exposed. It feels good, but scary. I'm not sure who will read this, who will benefit, or who will judge. Perhaps it doesn't even matter. Perhaps the answer is 'no one'...and maybe it's 'everyone'. Alas, it isn't a true look into my life if it isn't a whole look. So, if you so choose...I'm going to allow you to now look...
The best thing I've done for myself recently, or perhaps ever, is to find a good therapist. We met for the second time this afternoon, and it was not-so-simply...and yet quite simply...powerful.
Today, we decided to spend our time focusing on my marriage and divorce. So many of my friends have also been through a difficult divorce, or are experiencing trouble with their marriage- so I think the tools I've been given may be of use to someone reading this right now. Thus, I've decided to openly share my journey from today. It's all hitting me at once, so I feel the best way to explore my thoughts is to create a list. I hope you won't mind.
1) She asked me what feeling dominates my thoughts about my ex. Easy...it's anger. Why anger? Because I feel he stole my time. I gave my ex 8 years of my life and received nothing in return. For 8 years we lived a lie, and for 8 years I was denied a good and honest marriage. For 8 years I was slowly stripped of my self confidence and robbed of my sexuality- all so he could keep up appearances to the outside world. I'm angry he refused to touch me for all of those years, angry that he made me believe it was my fault, that somehow I was undeserving of his affection...8 years of my life gone just so he could paint the perfect picture for himself, for his 'fans', and for his family. She asked how long it's been since I left him. We are coming up on 2 years. She pointed out that for every day that I don't come to terms with my anger, for every email he sends that I allow to upset me all over again (and that I choose to read), for every second I spend lamenting the past- I am only giving him more of my 'time'. As of now, I have not just given him 8 years...I've given him nearly 10.
A decade. A decade of my life given to a controlling narcissist, when it's been in my power all along to reclaim my time. Quite empowering when you think about it.
2) She asked what the number one thing was that my ex stole from me. Again...easy...my self confidence. I won't go into detail here, but he did and said some things that stripped me of my confidence and self worth in the way only the sickest of men would dare do. I thank God every day that I am still able to date, that I still feel desirable. Because that man said things to me that literally brought me to my knees- things so awful I still have trouble discussing them, let alone ever writing about them. And even though I knew they were lies, and that the issues were his- they scarred me worse than his fists ever could have. In fact, there were days I wish he did hit me- just so I had something tangible to look to in order to explain my pain.
But while I am able to date, my confidence and self-worth stay wrapped up in whatever 'man x' thinks about me. Rejection remains my greatest fear- therefore I'm willing to sacrifice my standards in exchange for anything that resembles praise or affection. I explained to my therapist that I want to regain my self confidence and find my true worth within and from myself, not from external opinions.
Question is...How?
3) How. Yes, she actually had an answer. We made a list of the things I love to do, the things I'm great at, the things that bring me peace. The exact same things...I have not done since I left my husband. I've been doing none of them. She asked me which of my hobbies I miss the most. Easy, I miss taking pictures. What do I love to take pictures of? Candid street photography. She had me open my calendar and asked me what my plans were for tomorrow. Well, I work until 4. After that? Nothing. She had me write in my calendar that I would drive downtown, take my camera, and spend 2 hours walking the streets and taking pictures. No excuses, no delays, this will happen. Even if my energy is low, even if I have a thousand other things I 'should' be doing...this matters more.
Why? Because I'm really, really good at it. And by doing the things that I love, the things I know I'm good at- slowly I will begin to regain my self confidence...and my true self. Each week, as often as possible I have to schedule time to do the things I love. It's vital to my recovery. And to hold me accountable, she has asked to see the photos next week.
4) Now, just relax. Last week I wrote about the importance of taking time to relax (according to my therapist). And I have. I've been doing pilates again, and taking time to walk away from the computer and catch a good movie in the evenings. I've spent time with friends, and not just in a crazy party way- but in a meaningful way that involves good food and greater conversation. She's right, it's working. As I type this now, it's just occurred to me that my house is silent. Completely silent. I believe it's the first time I've allowed that to happen since my dog died.
Wow.
5) She asked me what I feel I've gained in the last decade. It was a tie between an interesting career and friends that have helped me grow, think, and live. She asked for an example. I didn't have to think hard. Yesterday evening, following a fantastic house warming party in which a very eclectic group of people were brought together with the sole intention of everyone meeting someone new and interesting, my boy best friend (BBF) and I were chatting. He's never been married and has no intention to ever do so, his life is simply too perfect the way it is. I told him I hoped to get to that place someday. He was quick to point out I was already there. What? No I'm not! He asked me if I was happier today than I was 2 years ago, 3 years ago, 5 years ago. After some thought I knew he was right. I am happier. I was never as sad and lonely as I was while married to my ex. Even my worst day today could never be that bad. There were days I wished to be dead. That would not happen now. My life now really is quite amazing when I allow it to be. I get to work, spend time with friends, see new places, eat new foods, meet new people, experience new inspirations. Everything can be new and beautiful...or not beautiful and yet still make for a good story. It's within my power, it's within my ability to choose.
Once I regain my confidence, my focus, my determination, and my drive? This world better watch out baby!
But for now, I have one goal...one giant and important goal...
To create a life so beautiful, so exhilarating, so diverse, so interesting, and so inspirational...that I won't want to share it with anyone else. Unless, of course, I deem them 110% worthy of me.
The best thing I've done for myself recently, or perhaps ever, is to find a good therapist. We met for the second time this afternoon, and it was not-so-simply...and yet quite simply...powerful.
Today, we decided to spend our time focusing on my marriage and divorce. So many of my friends have also been through a difficult divorce, or are experiencing trouble with their marriage- so I think the tools I've been given may be of use to someone reading this right now. Thus, I've decided to openly share my journey from today. It's all hitting me at once, so I feel the best way to explore my thoughts is to create a list. I hope you won't mind.
1) She asked me what feeling dominates my thoughts about my ex. Easy...it's anger. Why anger? Because I feel he stole my time. I gave my ex 8 years of my life and received nothing in return. For 8 years we lived a lie, and for 8 years I was denied a good and honest marriage. For 8 years I was slowly stripped of my self confidence and robbed of my sexuality- all so he could keep up appearances to the outside world. I'm angry he refused to touch me for all of those years, angry that he made me believe it was my fault, that somehow I was undeserving of his affection...8 years of my life gone just so he could paint the perfect picture for himself, for his 'fans', and for his family. She asked how long it's been since I left him. We are coming up on 2 years. She pointed out that for every day that I don't come to terms with my anger, for every email he sends that I allow to upset me all over again (and that I choose to read), for every second I spend lamenting the past- I am only giving him more of my 'time'. As of now, I have not just given him 8 years...I've given him nearly 10.
A decade. A decade of my life given to a controlling narcissist, when it's been in my power all along to reclaim my time. Quite empowering when you think about it.
2) She asked what the number one thing was that my ex stole from me. Again...easy...my self confidence. I won't go into detail here, but he did and said some things that stripped me of my confidence and self worth in the way only the sickest of men would dare do. I thank God every day that I am still able to date, that I still feel desirable. Because that man said things to me that literally brought me to my knees- things so awful I still have trouble discussing them, let alone ever writing about them. And even though I knew they were lies, and that the issues were his- they scarred me worse than his fists ever could have. In fact, there were days I wish he did hit me- just so I had something tangible to look to in order to explain my pain.
But while I am able to date, my confidence and self-worth stay wrapped up in whatever 'man x' thinks about me. Rejection remains my greatest fear- therefore I'm willing to sacrifice my standards in exchange for anything that resembles praise or affection. I explained to my therapist that I want to regain my self confidence and find my true worth within and from myself, not from external opinions.
Question is...How?
3) How. Yes, she actually had an answer. We made a list of the things I love to do, the things I'm great at, the things that bring me peace. The exact same things...I have not done since I left my husband. I've been doing none of them. She asked me which of my hobbies I miss the most. Easy, I miss taking pictures. What do I love to take pictures of? Candid street photography. She had me open my calendar and asked me what my plans were for tomorrow. Well, I work until 4. After that? Nothing. She had me write in my calendar that I would drive downtown, take my camera, and spend 2 hours walking the streets and taking pictures. No excuses, no delays, this will happen. Even if my energy is low, even if I have a thousand other things I 'should' be doing...this matters more.
Why? Because I'm really, really good at it. And by doing the things that I love, the things I know I'm good at- slowly I will begin to regain my self confidence...and my true self. Each week, as often as possible I have to schedule time to do the things I love. It's vital to my recovery. And to hold me accountable, she has asked to see the photos next week.
4) Now, just relax. Last week I wrote about the importance of taking time to relax (according to my therapist). And I have. I've been doing pilates again, and taking time to walk away from the computer and catch a good movie in the evenings. I've spent time with friends, and not just in a crazy party way- but in a meaningful way that involves good food and greater conversation. She's right, it's working. As I type this now, it's just occurred to me that my house is silent. Completely silent. I believe it's the first time I've allowed that to happen since my dog died.
Wow.
5) She asked me what I feel I've gained in the last decade. It was a tie between an interesting career and friends that have helped me grow, think, and live. She asked for an example. I didn't have to think hard. Yesterday evening, following a fantastic house warming party in which a very eclectic group of people were brought together with the sole intention of everyone meeting someone new and interesting, my boy best friend (BBF) and I were chatting. He's never been married and has no intention to ever do so, his life is simply too perfect the way it is. I told him I hoped to get to that place someday. He was quick to point out I was already there. What? No I'm not! He asked me if I was happier today than I was 2 years ago, 3 years ago, 5 years ago. After some thought I knew he was right. I am happier. I was never as sad and lonely as I was while married to my ex. Even my worst day today could never be that bad. There were days I wished to be dead. That would not happen now. My life now really is quite amazing when I allow it to be. I get to work, spend time with friends, see new places, eat new foods, meet new people, experience new inspirations. Everything can be new and beautiful...or not beautiful and yet still make for a good story. It's within my power, it's within my ability to choose.
Once I regain my confidence, my focus, my determination, and my drive? This world better watch out baby!
But for now, I have one goal...one giant and important goal...
To create a life so beautiful, so exhilarating, so diverse, so interesting, and so inspirational...that I won't want to share it with anyone else. Unless, of course, I deem them 110% worthy of me.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Giving Myself Permission...
Today I met with a therapist for the first time in almost 2 years. Which means I might have to change the subtitle of this blog. Well, shit.
The last time I sought counseling was at the end of my marriage...which ultimately helped me walk away. I've never had an issue with seeking help when I felt I needed it, but despite living through the most difficult 2 years of my life- it was only a week ago that I realized I really, really needed to see someone. My catalyst came during a normal day at work, doing something I've done for over a decade...and yet, I had a full-on panic attack that nearly lost me a long-time client in the process.
Thus, therapy. It's been a long time coming.
The hour went a little something like this...
Therapist: Why are you here today?
Me: I've had a difficult couple of years and the stress and anxiety have finally reached a boiling point. It's affecting my work.
Therapist: What happened in the last 2 years that caused you stress?
Me: Well, I left my husband and filed for divorce after discovering he was a gay narcissist, then I packed my things and moved halfway across the country to be closer to family. I left behind a fully furnished 5 bedroom house and my 2 cats. But I got to keep my dog...and half his debt. When I got here, I learned I had to have major abdominal surgery to fix multiple tears in my abdomen that were a result of living with prolonged stress while married. During my recovery, they discovered a mass in my left breast and told me it looked like cancer. 2 mammograms, 3 ultrasounds, and 2 biopsies later (and over a month of time)...I was told it wasn't cancerous. A week later the baby my sister was 2 weeks from delivering died while still in the womb. I was there for the birth and spoke at my niece's memorial. Around that time, the guy I was seeing turned into an verbally abusive alcoholic. It took me months to finally get him out of my life. A week after he left, my one true love- my dog- died from a brain tumor at 5 years old. While recovering from that loss, my ex-husband was given a huge promotion and an enormous pay raise, and his new favorite past time has become sending me messages telling me how rich and happy he is. 6 weeks ago I learned I had a brother that was given up for adoption over 40 years ago and I met him for the first time 2 days ago. He said some things that reminded me of things my father used to say, and now my long-burried daddy issues have resurfaced. That's all I can think of right now...so I guess we can start there...
Therapist: (staring at me wide-eyed)...........I've heard of bad things happening in threes, but never in twenties.....so.......when was the last time you felt any sense of calm or peace?
Me: .......................(thinking)...............6 years ago. When I used to spend my weekends hiking with my best friend. And I had a garden.
Therapist: When was the last time you did something kind for yourself, something to help you feel centered?
Me: .....................(drawing a blank)
Therapist: Take your time, I'll wait.
And there it is. The reality that I have become so accustomed to living in chaos and stress that I don't even take the time to breathe each day. I've been conditioned to expect the worst (so to speak) so I create my own anarchy before it can be thrust upon me.
Basically, I am Pavlov's dog. Just not as famous...or well fed.
Thankfully, I now have a really good therapist who gave me the best homework ever for this next week. I have to go get a massage. And my intense cardio workouts will now be replaced with stress-reducing yoga. I am to continue writing in this blog, but I have to also keep a journal for my eyes only.
She told me I've been in 'survivor' mode for far too long, and that I've never given myself even a second to heal before moving onto the next thing. My memory loss as of late is most likely a result of my brain finally giving me the middle finger, my anxiety is a result of too much change in too short a time. She has asked that I not make any intentional changes for a while- no switching gyms, no major anything...unless it's somehow beneficial to my mind, body, and soul (Bora Bora anyone?).
She said it's time I give myself permission to be still, be calm, be happy, be centered, and be whole.
So there we go. My life continues on. But maybe, just maybe there comes a point down the road that I don't feel like I'm in a constant state of, 'what NOW?!' Perhaps someday something really great comes from all of this.
And if not? Fuck it. This dog is off to find a treat...
The last time I sought counseling was at the end of my marriage...which ultimately helped me walk away. I've never had an issue with seeking help when I felt I needed it, but despite living through the most difficult 2 years of my life- it was only a week ago that I realized I really, really needed to see someone. My catalyst came during a normal day at work, doing something I've done for over a decade...and yet, I had a full-on panic attack that nearly lost me a long-time client in the process.
Thus, therapy. It's been a long time coming.
The hour went a little something like this...
Therapist: Why are you here today?
Me: I've had a difficult couple of years and the stress and anxiety have finally reached a boiling point. It's affecting my work.
Therapist: What happened in the last 2 years that caused you stress?
Me: Well, I left my husband and filed for divorce after discovering he was a gay narcissist, then I packed my things and moved halfway across the country to be closer to family. I left behind a fully furnished 5 bedroom house and my 2 cats. But I got to keep my dog...and half his debt. When I got here, I learned I had to have major abdominal surgery to fix multiple tears in my abdomen that were a result of living with prolonged stress while married. During my recovery, they discovered a mass in my left breast and told me it looked like cancer. 2 mammograms, 3 ultrasounds, and 2 biopsies later (and over a month of time)...I was told it wasn't cancerous. A week later the baby my sister was 2 weeks from delivering died while still in the womb. I was there for the birth and spoke at my niece's memorial. Around that time, the guy I was seeing turned into an verbally abusive alcoholic. It took me months to finally get him out of my life. A week after he left, my one true love- my dog- died from a brain tumor at 5 years old. While recovering from that loss, my ex-husband was given a huge promotion and an enormous pay raise, and his new favorite past time has become sending me messages telling me how rich and happy he is. 6 weeks ago I learned I had a brother that was given up for adoption over 40 years ago and I met him for the first time 2 days ago. He said some things that reminded me of things my father used to say, and now my long-burried daddy issues have resurfaced. That's all I can think of right now...so I guess we can start there...
Therapist: (staring at me wide-eyed)...........I've heard of bad things happening in threes, but never in twenties.....so.......when was the last time you felt any sense of calm or peace?
Me: .......................(thinking)...............6 years ago. When I used to spend my weekends hiking with my best friend. And I had a garden.
Therapist: When was the last time you did something kind for yourself, something to help you feel centered?
Me: .....................(drawing a blank)
Therapist: Take your time, I'll wait.
And there it is. The reality that I have become so accustomed to living in chaos and stress that I don't even take the time to breathe each day. I've been conditioned to expect the worst (so to speak) so I create my own anarchy before it can be thrust upon me.
Basically, I am Pavlov's dog. Just not as famous...or well fed.
Thankfully, I now have a really good therapist who gave me the best homework ever for this next week. I have to go get a massage. And my intense cardio workouts will now be replaced with stress-reducing yoga. I am to continue writing in this blog, but I have to also keep a journal for my eyes only.
She told me I've been in 'survivor' mode for far too long, and that I've never given myself even a second to heal before moving onto the next thing. My memory loss as of late is most likely a result of my brain finally giving me the middle finger, my anxiety is a result of too much change in too short a time. She has asked that I not make any intentional changes for a while- no switching gyms, no major anything...unless it's somehow beneficial to my mind, body, and soul (Bora Bora anyone?).
She said it's time I give myself permission to be still, be calm, be happy, be centered, and be whole.
So there we go. My life continues on. But maybe, just maybe there comes a point down the road that I don't feel like I'm in a constant state of, 'what NOW?!' Perhaps someday something really great comes from all of this.
And if not? Fuck it. This dog is off to find a treat...
Sunday, November 20, 2011
A Sleepy Orgy
A conversation that just happened between me and my favorite cousin via text:
Me: Date tonight. I text that I'm exhausted. He responds that I won't be once I've seen him. Hello, creepy.
FC: Be sure to keep your panties on!
Me: It's a group date- so if they come off, Lord help us all.
FC: Maybe it'll be your first orgy. Or the first orgy I know about!
Me: Yes, there are some things even I haven't done...but I'm soooooo tired.
FC: Well, then make sure your part of the orgy is over at the beginning.
And now you all know why she's my favorite ;-)
Me: Date tonight. I text that I'm exhausted. He responds that I won't be once I've seen him. Hello, creepy.
FC: Be sure to keep your panties on!
Me: It's a group date- so if they come off, Lord help us all.
FC: Maybe it'll be your first orgy. Or the first orgy I know about!
Me: Yes, there are some things even I haven't done...but I'm soooooo tired.
FC: Well, then make sure your part of the orgy is over at the beginning.
And now you all know why she's my favorite ;-)
Thursday, November 17, 2011
A Few Short Thoughts...
A short post with a few random thoughts...
1) It seems Blogger is deleting paragraphs from my blog posts when I make an edit, thus making me re-write what was already written. Unfortunately, my memory is shit- so I'm pretty sure my blogs are morphing into new blogs as time goes on. Which in many ways is a remarkable parallel to the current fucked-up-edness of my life.
2) After a shit week and a lot of thought, I've decided to see a therapist. No, not date a therapist (as Red mistakenly heard me say at dinner tonight)- but see a therapist. It seems my short term memory loss and mild ADD have been getting worse over time and I need to do something about it. Thankfully, I won't remember how distracted I am right now, so we're good. My first appointment is Monday.
3) Last night I had to cancel a first date with a Doctor I met on the plane Sunday when I was returning from my insane weekend in LA... because I wasn't feeling well. Irony is a fucking playful little monster, isn't she?
4) Now, getting back to my ADD...
Elephants are cool and I'm hungry...guitar.
1) It seems Blogger is deleting paragraphs from my blog posts when I make an edit, thus making me re-write what was already written. Unfortunately, my memory is shit- so I'm pretty sure my blogs are morphing into new blogs as time goes on. Which in many ways is a remarkable parallel to the current fucked-up-edness of my life.
2) After a shit week and a lot of thought, I've decided to see a therapist. No, not date a therapist (as Red mistakenly heard me say at dinner tonight)- but see a therapist. It seems my short term memory loss and mild ADD have been getting worse over time and I need to do something about it. Thankfully, I won't remember how distracted I am right now, so we're good. My first appointment is Monday.
3) Last night I had to cancel a first date with a Doctor I met on the plane Sunday when I was returning from my insane weekend in LA... because I wasn't feeling well. Irony is a fucking playful little monster, isn't she?
4) Now, getting back to my ADD...
Elephants are cool and I'm hungry...guitar.
A Chance, A disappointment, and a Lesson
"You will soon receive an unusual gift freely given. Accept!"
I believe in signs. Fucking sue me. This fortune, opened a few weeks ago, was quite the precursor to a fascinating adventure I recently embarked on.
Two weeks ago I received a random text from a guy my acting coach has been trying to set me up with for some time, but it never worked out. The guy was bored and thought he would say hello. He was also drunk, and I'm pretty sure now he was high on something as well. As you know, I can be a remarkable smart ass, and it was clear he could play along, so the texting conversation was funny. Really funny. And only because he was so unbelievably douchey in those first few texts.
In fact, for this blog...let's just call him 'LAD' (Las Angeles Douche)
For the sake of trying to keep this blog from turning into a novel, I'll spare you the details of all of the texts that first day...but he held nothing back and answered every question openly and honestly (and douchily, if there is such a word). Then he declared he was going to send me a picture with the letter 'K' for my name. He sat on a sofa, used toothpaste and a couple of toothbrushes across his chest, and surrounded himself with women for the photo op. No photo has ever been sent in such poor taste...and with my sick sense of humor, no photo has ever made me laugh so hard.
Throughout the week he continued to text. On day three he asked if he could fly me to LA for a weekend just to hang out. No pressure, no promises, let's just take it one step at a time. Perhaps it was my new 'anything goes attitude', or perhaps I had a feeling it would make for a good blog...either way, I easily agreed. The flight was booked that night. And for the next eleven days we spent a lot of time texting, emailing, and getting to know each other.
"Soon you will be sitting on top of the world"
I opened this fortune the day I left. I sent a picture of it to LAD and he shot back a photo of the view from his house. 'On top of the world' was an understatement...I have never seen a view like that anywhere in LA.
My flight landed Friday at 5pm...a driver named Igor was waiting for me at baggage claim. LAD texted me throughout the entire drive. After 45 minutes, the car turned off of Sunset and onto his street. Up and up and up we went...to the top, passing some of the most beautiful homes I have ever seen. We parked, and I noticed a door standing open that led into a small courtyard. There I was, luggage in hand, knocking on a large smoked-glass door. Finally it opened and there stood LAD.
"Hi, I'm KJ," I said. He smiled, hesitated a moment, than walked across the courtyard, grabbed me by the back of my head, and kissed me. A long, deep, powerful kiss. When he pulled away we looked each other up and down and started to giggle. "I'll get your luggage, come inside..." he beckoned. I walked through the front door and...
My jaw dropped. The entire back wall of his huge house was made of glass over-looking downtown LA, Century City, Santa Monica...you could see it all. Even more spectacular was that the giant glass panels were all pulled open so it felt like you were literally floating over the city lights, I could feel the wind in my hair.
A bottle of wine was uncorked and the weekend was on. We couldn't stop making out, and before we even had a full conversation, we 'fully' christened the pool table in his living room overlooking the city lights. The chemistry was intense. Again, for the sake of brevity, I'll just give you the highlights of the weekend. Dinner at Boa, a Vodka tasting in an ice bar, fantastic conversation, endless laughs, ...We hit it off, really and truly hit it off. Day two was more of the same- great food, great talks, we even spent some time playing guitar and talking about work. We watched the sunset over LA and curled up on a sofa outside as a light rain passed overhead. LAD had thought of everything, he had stocked the pantry with my favorite foods and the bar with my favorite wines and liquors. We spent a lot of time discussing how excited we were that this was all happening, how it felt so real. It was the perfect first weekend together until...
At 8:30am on Sunday morning- I awoke. Alone. I walked downstairs and noticed lights on in his office, so I chose not to disturb him and went back to bed. 10am- I awoke again. Alone. The lights were still on in the office, so I walked inside. LAD wasn't there. He wasn't in any of the other gajillion rooms in the house either. Then I checked the garage. No car.
I texted, "You left?" No response. An hour later I texted again, "Are you coming back?" A response: "Hey sorry, you were dead asleep so I went out partying with my friends." Ahem. "You've been gone all night?" LAD: "Yeah. Look, if you're up I'll come back." Another hour passed..."Are you still coming back?" Thirty minutes more, LAD texted: "Yeah, sorry. I'm too fucked up to drive- I'm waiting on a cab." "You're too fucked up to drive at 1 in the afternoon?" LAD: "Yeah, sorry."
Another hour passed. I called a cab to take me to the airport for my 5pm flight. Finally, LAD came stumbling through the door. A sly smirk across his face, he asked, "Do you hate me?" "No, I'm just confused." LAD: "Guess we'll never end up married, huh?" "Uhm...no." LAD: "This will make for a great story you know." "Well, there's always that."
Just then my cab arrived, and I walked upstairs for my luggage. He followed, apologizing. "I'm really sorry, but you were asleep." "It's not ok to fly someone 1500 miles and then ditch them for an entire night and day so you can get fucked up with your friends!" LAD: "I may be a drug addict." Me: "Clearly, that was the one question I should have asked before flying out here."
On the way to the airport he texted, "I didn't think I was going to be gone for more than an hour. I thought I'd be back before you woke up. But you're right, in hindsight I shouldn't have left. I'm a work in progress. I had more fun with you than I could have imagined. I sincerely apologize. I didn't mean to be gone so long. Let's just go step by step. We went 3 steps forward, 1 step back." My response: "3 steps back."
The following morning LAD texted to see how my flight home was. I asked him how he was feeling. No response. And there hasn't been much contact since. In the end, LAD blew me off, and then he really blew me off. I won't lie, it hurts.
But as my favorite cousin so perfectly put it, "If someone is going to be with you, they should have to impress you, not apologize to you."
I think I'm going to listen to Favorite Cousin...and stop listening to fortune cookies.
I believe in signs. Fucking sue me. This fortune, opened a few weeks ago, was quite the precursor to a fascinating adventure I recently embarked on.
Two weeks ago I received a random text from a guy my acting coach has been trying to set me up with for some time, but it never worked out. The guy was bored and thought he would say hello. He was also drunk, and I'm pretty sure now he was high on something as well. As you know, I can be a remarkable smart ass, and it was clear he could play along, so the texting conversation was funny. Really funny. And only because he was so unbelievably douchey in those first few texts.
In fact, for this blog...let's just call him 'LAD' (Las Angeles Douche)
For the sake of trying to keep this blog from turning into a novel, I'll spare you the details of all of the texts that first day...but he held nothing back and answered every question openly and honestly (and douchily, if there is such a word). Then he declared he was going to send me a picture with the letter 'K' for my name. He sat on a sofa, used toothpaste and a couple of toothbrushes across his chest, and surrounded himself with women for the photo op. No photo has ever been sent in such poor taste...and with my sick sense of humor, no photo has ever made me laugh so hard.
Throughout the week he continued to text. On day three he asked if he could fly me to LA for a weekend just to hang out. No pressure, no promises, let's just take it one step at a time. Perhaps it was my new 'anything goes attitude', or perhaps I had a feeling it would make for a good blog...either way, I easily agreed. The flight was booked that night. And for the next eleven days we spent a lot of time texting, emailing, and getting to know each other.
"Soon you will be sitting on top of the world"
I opened this fortune the day I left. I sent a picture of it to LAD and he shot back a photo of the view from his house. 'On top of the world' was an understatement...I have never seen a view like that anywhere in LA.
My flight landed Friday at 5pm...a driver named Igor was waiting for me at baggage claim. LAD texted me throughout the entire drive. After 45 minutes, the car turned off of Sunset and onto his street. Up and up and up we went...to the top, passing some of the most beautiful homes I have ever seen. We parked, and I noticed a door standing open that led into a small courtyard. There I was, luggage in hand, knocking on a large smoked-glass door. Finally it opened and there stood LAD.
"Hi, I'm KJ," I said. He smiled, hesitated a moment, than walked across the courtyard, grabbed me by the back of my head, and kissed me. A long, deep, powerful kiss. When he pulled away we looked each other up and down and started to giggle. "I'll get your luggage, come inside..." he beckoned. I walked through the front door and...
My jaw dropped. The entire back wall of his huge house was made of glass over-looking downtown LA, Century City, Santa Monica...you could see it all. Even more spectacular was that the giant glass panels were all pulled open so it felt like you were literally floating over the city lights, I could feel the wind in my hair.
A bottle of wine was uncorked and the weekend was on. We couldn't stop making out, and before we even had a full conversation, we 'fully' christened the pool table in his living room overlooking the city lights. The chemistry was intense. Again, for the sake of brevity, I'll just give you the highlights of the weekend. Dinner at Boa, a Vodka tasting in an ice bar, fantastic conversation, endless laughs, ...We hit it off, really and truly hit it off. Day two was more of the same- great food, great talks, we even spent some time playing guitar and talking about work. We watched the sunset over LA and curled up on a sofa outside as a light rain passed overhead. LAD had thought of everything, he had stocked the pantry with my favorite foods and the bar with my favorite wines and liquors. We spent a lot of time discussing how excited we were that this was all happening, how it felt so real. It was the perfect first weekend together until...
At 8:30am on Sunday morning- I awoke. Alone. I walked downstairs and noticed lights on in his office, so I chose not to disturb him and went back to bed. 10am- I awoke again. Alone. The lights were still on in the office, so I walked inside. LAD wasn't there. He wasn't in any of the other gajillion rooms in the house either. Then I checked the garage. No car.
I texted, "You left?" No response. An hour later I texted again, "Are you coming back?" A response: "Hey sorry, you were dead asleep so I went out partying with my friends." Ahem. "You've been gone all night?" LAD: "Yeah. Look, if you're up I'll come back." Another hour passed..."Are you still coming back?" Thirty minutes more, LAD texted: "Yeah, sorry. I'm too fucked up to drive- I'm waiting on a cab." "You're too fucked up to drive at 1 in the afternoon?" LAD: "Yeah, sorry."
Another hour passed. I called a cab to take me to the airport for my 5pm flight. Finally, LAD came stumbling through the door. A sly smirk across his face, he asked, "Do you hate me?" "No, I'm just confused." LAD: "Guess we'll never end up married, huh?" "Uhm...no." LAD: "This will make for a great story you know." "Well, there's always that."
Just then my cab arrived, and I walked upstairs for my luggage. He followed, apologizing. "I'm really sorry, but you were asleep." "It's not ok to fly someone 1500 miles and then ditch them for an entire night and day so you can get fucked up with your friends!" LAD: "I may be a drug addict." Me: "Clearly, that was the one question I should have asked before flying out here."
On the way to the airport he texted, "I didn't think I was going to be gone for more than an hour. I thought I'd be back before you woke up. But you're right, in hindsight I shouldn't have left. I'm a work in progress. I had more fun with you than I could have imagined. I sincerely apologize. I didn't mean to be gone so long. Let's just go step by step. We went 3 steps forward, 1 step back." My response: "3 steps back."
The following morning LAD texted to see how my flight home was. I asked him how he was feeling. No response. And there hasn't been much contact since. In the end, LAD blew me off, and then he really blew me off. I won't lie, it hurts.
But as my favorite cousin so perfectly put it, "If someone is going to be with you, they should have to impress you, not apologize to you."
I think I'm going to listen to Favorite Cousin...and stop listening to fortune cookies.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Life's Little Ironies
Never one to hold a grudge or be in any way vindictive, I'm more prone to let things simply roll off my chest than to have 'In Your Face Motherfucker' skywritten the way I may sometimes want to.
But then life just hands you something so beautifully ironic that you can't help but tell someone. And you, my dear reader, are my someone. xo and handholding and stuff...
Anyway, I'll proceed with the story at hand...
I've been loosely keeping in touch with Clarence the Rockstar via text. (If you need a refresher on the Clarence story, feel free to click here) We're also Facebook and Twitter friends- or twits- or whatever you call it. The other day someone posted a video of his band on one of these sites and the link led me to YouTube. I've seen just enough of the band online (without ever having seen them live) to know that they are really, really good- so I wanted to check out their performance.
You know how YouTube will display related videos to the right of the screen? Well, something caught my eye. It was the name of an old reality show I was mildly obsessed with several years ago along with the name 'Clarence the Rockstar' (you have no idea how much I wish it really did say 'Clarence the Rockstar', that would be so awesome!). It was one of those American Idol type shows but the difference was that this show was looking for a frontman for a rock band.
I immediately clicked on the video.
<insert 'Inner Dialogue" caption here>
"Holy shit! That's Clarence the Rockstar...on that show I used to obsessively watch! And I remember him now because he was really really good! And I also remember saying to my husband at the time - 'WOW! I would so love to fuck that guy!' to which my husband replied - 'WOW! Me too!'"
OK fine, that conversation never happened...but it would have been so fantastic if it had because then my sham of a marriage would have ended so much earlier, but I digress...
Tonight I received a text from Clarence saying he read my blog about the boardroom. I was both mildly mortified and rather impressed! (Who knew rockstars could read? Ok, JUST kidding...) He mentioned that I had left out a few details, to which I replied that some serious editing had to take place or it would have been a novel, not a blog. He responded, "I want to see the full length. It was a fun night! Chip heard most of it." (Chip being the guitar player)
Me: "I'd like to read Chip's version of it, he could likely fill in more of the blanks than I could."
Clarence: "I think we got it covered!"
I share this little conversation with you because as these texts were being sent, an e-mail from ex-husband popped up. Oh how I live for ironic timing...
He was emailing to inform me that his first paycheck from his new high-paying job had just arrived and he couldn't contain the tears in his eyes after seeing all of those numbers. He sent an entire page gushing about how rich he is. Now, you might be wondering...do I benefit in any way from this? Is there a legitimate reason he would send a note like that?
NOPE. I. Won't. Get. A. Dime.
His parting written words were, "Even with the God forsaken taxes taken out of it which were f*ing insane, I keep counting the numbers like a little kid getting his first $5 for shoveling snow off the neighbor's driveway! Anyway, hope all is well with you."
I need to be very honest with you. It is currently taking every fiber of my cool, calm, non-vindictive self not to fire back, "I fucked Clarence the Rockstar."
Instead I'm: Breathing in. Breathing out. Popping a Valium. And thanking God for my awesome and extraordinary new life...
Monday, November 7, 2011
Be Bold. And Slutty.
This past Friday I went out with my girls Jazz and Red. Somehow they managed to talk me into meeting them at the one club in town I hate the most.
Club Douche reeks of erectile dysfunction. In fact, there should be a law that all men even considering showing up bring some form of pedigree proving they are real men. From 9pm-2am it's like a bad Saturday Night Live sketch, in which you are guaranteed to leave with some form of male narcissistic slime trying to claw it's way into your pores as you walk to your car.
Red and I were the first to arrive, and while Red ran around to say hello to her friends, I huddled in a far corner staring intently at my phone. The single most UNattractive man I have ever laid eyes on made his way over to my table, gyrating to the song in his head which was clearly not the same song the band was playing.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing sitting here all alone just staring at her phone?" He asked.
"Well, I was hoping it would send a clear signal that I didn't want company, but since it hasn't I'm now contemplating whether hurling myself out that window would end this night faster than breaking this shot glass and using one of the shards to slit my throat."
"Oh! Hahah! You are a feisty one! I like feisty!"
Since I couldn't figure out a way to stress-vomit onto his shoes, I instead glared straight ahead while he droned on and on about I don't know what.
Finally Red came back to the table and sensing my impending suicide, she managed to come up with some clever way to make that asshole go away. Jazz arrived and judging by the brimming tears in her eyes I knew we were both ready for something stronger than beer.
"Wanna talk about it?" I asked. "Nope," she replied.
"I don't think they sell Valium by the bucket, but I could grab us a couple of Patrons." I offered. And so the night really began. I made it my sole mission to have a great evening, and to get Jazz as drunk as possible. I mean, what are friends for if they can't insure your next-day-suffering is at least three times worse than your current suffering?
It took us about twenty minutes to attract half the bar over to our area. One thing I have learned, men love women that make an obvious show of just wanting to hang out with each other. No, not like THAT...just by not scoping the joint for prospects...by laughing, dancing, and having a genuinely good time. An hour or so later I happened to glance across the bar...and boom! I was smitten.
The one guy, the only guy, not dressed to impress. His dark, dirty hair stuck out crudely from his scull cap, his black converse and torn jeans didn't match the button downs and slacks around him. The darkest eyes I have ever seen and that perfect bad-boy smirk. He glanced my way.
"Hey!" I yelled over the band. "You should want to meet me!"
He shook his head no.
Challenge on.
"Your loss asshole!" I hollered as I turned my back. Five seconds later he was right next to me. Easiest trick in the book, and it has never failed me.
The rest of the night flashed by in a blur of Patron, bad pop music, and a sexy Russian accent. Yes, he was Russian...which I'm pretty sure only tequila can make sound sexy, but whatever. At the end of the night we said our goodbyes and ended with a kiss that could have killed any cold war.
"Can I get your number?" asked Vladimir.
"I'm not really a fan of vodka or communism, but it was really nice meeting you!" OK, I didn't say that...but I did somehow politely decline.
Look, I'm no fool- I get that my new awesome 'I have nothing to lose attitude' comes from a darker place than some Hallmark cliche 'needing to live fully and freely'. I miss my dog. I miss my American dream...the one where I thought I was going to live in big houses and birth babies for a living. That ship has sailed and I'm clinging to the life raft that comes in the shape of a disco ball and a shot glass. It's working, and I'm having fun. But I have no desire to collect a closet full of one night stands or broken hearts. I don't have much to offer right now, and I'd rather navigate this new fucked up path alone than with Mr. Wrong. (No matter how brooding his eyes, how perfectly pouty his lips, or how sexy his accent)
I'm living with less fear for the first time in my life...because the only person I have to hurt is me. And me and myself are enjoying the best relationship of my life, so I don't think I'll dump me anytime soon. And I've never been good at that cheating thing.
Plus, it turns out I'm actually inspiring a few folks to live a little less fearlessly, a little more carefree.
Or as my friend put it to me today, "You're inspiring me to be more bold. And slutty."
Hey, I do what I can.
Or as I'm sure Vladimir would put it:
Весело́ весе́лье — тяжело́ похме́лье. (Translation: Revelry is jolly, Hangover is heavy)
Club Douche reeks of erectile dysfunction. In fact, there should be a law that all men even considering showing up bring some form of pedigree proving they are real men. From 9pm-2am it's like a bad Saturday Night Live sketch, in which you are guaranteed to leave with some form of male narcissistic slime trying to claw it's way into your pores as you walk to your car.
Red and I were the first to arrive, and while Red ran around to say hello to her friends, I huddled in a far corner staring intently at my phone. The single most UNattractive man I have ever laid eyes on made his way over to my table, gyrating to the song in his head which was clearly not the same song the band was playing.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing sitting here all alone just staring at her phone?" He asked.
"Well, I was hoping it would send a clear signal that I didn't want company, but since it hasn't I'm now contemplating whether hurling myself out that window would end this night faster than breaking this shot glass and using one of the shards to slit my throat."
"Oh! Hahah! You are a feisty one! I like feisty!"
Since I couldn't figure out a way to stress-vomit onto his shoes, I instead glared straight ahead while he droned on and on about I don't know what.
Finally Red came back to the table and sensing my impending suicide, she managed to come up with some clever way to make that asshole go away. Jazz arrived and judging by the brimming tears in her eyes I knew we were both ready for something stronger than beer.
"Wanna talk about it?" I asked. "Nope," she replied.
"I don't think they sell Valium by the bucket, but I could grab us a couple of Patrons." I offered. And so the night really began. I made it my sole mission to have a great evening, and to get Jazz as drunk as possible. I mean, what are friends for if they can't insure your next-day-suffering is at least three times worse than your current suffering?
It took us about twenty minutes to attract half the bar over to our area. One thing I have learned, men love women that make an obvious show of just wanting to hang out with each other. No, not like THAT...just by not scoping the joint for prospects...by laughing, dancing, and having a genuinely good time. An hour or so later I happened to glance across the bar...and boom! I was smitten.
The one guy, the only guy, not dressed to impress. His dark, dirty hair stuck out crudely from his scull cap, his black converse and torn jeans didn't match the button downs and slacks around him. The darkest eyes I have ever seen and that perfect bad-boy smirk. He glanced my way.
"Hey!" I yelled over the band. "You should want to meet me!"
He shook his head no.
Challenge on.
"Your loss asshole!" I hollered as I turned my back. Five seconds later he was right next to me. Easiest trick in the book, and it has never failed me.
The rest of the night flashed by in a blur of Patron, bad pop music, and a sexy Russian accent. Yes, he was Russian...which I'm pretty sure only tequila can make sound sexy, but whatever. At the end of the night we said our goodbyes and ended with a kiss that could have killed any cold war.
"Can I get your number?" asked Vladimir.
"I'm not really a fan of vodka or communism, but it was really nice meeting you!" OK, I didn't say that...but I did somehow politely decline.
Look, I'm no fool- I get that my new awesome 'I have nothing to lose attitude' comes from a darker place than some Hallmark cliche 'needing to live fully and freely'. I miss my dog. I miss my American dream...the one where I thought I was going to live in big houses and birth babies for a living. That ship has sailed and I'm clinging to the life raft that comes in the shape of a disco ball and a shot glass. It's working, and I'm having fun. But I have no desire to collect a closet full of one night stands or broken hearts. I don't have much to offer right now, and I'd rather navigate this new fucked up path alone than with Mr. Wrong. (No matter how brooding his eyes, how perfectly pouty his lips, or how sexy his accent)
I'm living with less fear for the first time in my life...because the only person I have to hurt is me. And me and myself are enjoying the best relationship of my life, so I don't think I'll dump me anytime soon. And I've never been good at that cheating thing.
Plus, it turns out I'm actually inspiring a few folks to live a little less fearlessly, a little more carefree.
Or as my friend put it to me today, "You're inspiring me to be more bold. And slutty."
Hey, I do what I can.
Or as I'm sure Vladimir would put it:
Весело́ весе́лье — тяжело́ похме́лье. (Translation: Revelry is jolly, Hangover is heavy)
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