Category Archives: schmucks

Uhh Cupid, we have a problem!

So, I have issues.. yeah, issues… Luggage, baggage, psychological and emotional idiosyncracies… Ummm…whatever you wanna call ‘em. In fact, I’m pretty sure I have my fair share, your fair share, and a bit more for extra measure!
And I could go into detail about these, psychoanalyze why, who, what, and how they came about but really, does any of that matter? Well, other than making for a truly unbelievable (yeah unbelievable as in lierally, “I do not believe that’s true!”) story/post/biography, no, it just doesn’t matter. It is what it is. And at least, I’m aware I have major issues, so I hope I’m at least a tad ahead of the typical idiot idiosyncratic schmuck who is riddled with them and genuinely isn’t in touch with their own reality that something just isn’t quite “right”… That’s a bonus for me, right?
I’ve wanted to write for a while now of this great “thing” I have going with “J”… because it really is just great! Truly… However, while dealing with K’s suicide, I just haven’t been able to sit down and write. It’s as though I couldn’t bring myself to discuss trivial life matters with this blaring tragedy sitting on my heart…
But, I realize I can’t post for the next ten years on that… well, I could, yet no matter how fitting that seems to be in some ways…it’s just not and I must move on with writing of my original mission of this blog.
Dating.
I’ve been dating “J” and it’s terrific! In so many ways, he’s exactly what I wanted to find: a cool, fun, attractive, and interesting guy to hang out with/date, minus any pressure, stress or major drama… BINGO! I’ve found it! It just might be that I have, in fact, nailed some jello to the wall!
We’ve been having a fabulous time. He’s a valuable and amazing gem of a guy and he adores me… Awwwwwwwww…. No really, it’s quite precious and I consider myself a pretty luck chick to have snatched (and kept) his attention and adoration thus far.
We have long random discussions about world issues, life matters, and trivial ridiculous-like stuff. We have sex, we snuggle, and we play. We go to movies, rent movies, play games with friends. We are active and sometimes lazy. We have fun and then we are serious at times… It’s just a  super cool thing we have going on here and I really enjoy it, him, the relationship, etc, etc, etc… Yeah, it’s pretty much exactly what I had hoped to find when I began this journey/mission! Even the whole he-was-engaged-to-my-friend thing just hasn’t been a huge negative issue. We’ve told her and she seems okay with it. So, aside from some all too expected gossip from other obviously bored locals, there just hasn’t been any problems…at all. It’s been utterly terrific!

J is adorably nerdy like the character in "Juno"...what's not to love??

So….why in the hell would I want to complicate it? Ruin it? Drama-fy it? WHY??
Okay, the answer is I don’t. I don’t want to…I really, truly don’t…. but…..but…. omg… I swear I could complicate a game of freakin’ tic-tac-toe to the point of annoyance! WTF is my deal?? I can write a million posts picking on the guys in the dating pool out there, but the truth…the ugly down-n-dirty truth… is I’m not THAT much different than they when my idiosyncratic issues and frustrating-as-fuck-flaws come into the mix! Truth is, I’m a great chick with a lot of really kick ass stuff to offer a relationship, but I’m fucked… Yeah, at the nitty gritty of it all, I’m probably a bigger pain in the ass freak of nature than any of the weirdo’s I’ve written about here.
I’m so contradictory and I just can’t ever decipher if it’s the situation itself or if it’s really just me…
You know, I’m casually strutting toward the goal… I’m almost there..I can see it.. Hell, it’s so freakin’ close I can feel it; success, satisfaction, happiness….it’s there… just three more steps and it’s mine…. I can just skip along these last few feet….and skipping is so fun…
Do I throw the obstacles down on purpose? Or do I just forget the baggage that sits all around me in my excitement and then when I trip over them, I look around like “Did you just see that row of extra-large suitcases come at me outta nowhere?!” BAM! WTF?!
Because all I know is that I’m skipping along…grateful, happy, satisfied…and suddenly I trip…I trip from outta the blue, for seemingly no reason at all! I just hit this weird place, this ridiculous wall, this treacherous bump, this whacked out spot where the crazy-good amazingly beautiful planetary alignment from heaven that feels like beautiful fate falling into place just suddenly – without sense or warning… twists, turns, and flips…my thoughts, emotions, sanity get all jumbled up and I forget. I forget what I wanted, why I wanted it, and start to question if I ever even really wanted it at all…
Yeah….issues….yup…I got an abundance of ‘em…. Ohhhhh FUCK!!!
The problem here is that in the process of getting to know “J” better, I’ve also had the opportunity to get to know his friend “Jack” better… I won’t try to deny that I found Jack enormously attractive from the moment I met him. It just didn’t really matter that much because I already knew “J” and really liked what I knew. I wasn’t going to be deterred or lured away from my path to “J”. I wasn’t even interested in being deterred or lured. And then, it seems that most of my non-alone time with “J” also happens to typically include Jack. This is fabulous! Jack is F-U-N… So, I get to hang with the terrific J AND I get to hang with the fun, funny, HOT Jack…. Yeah, I’ve been lovin’ it!
And somewhere in the past few months of this, a week or so ago, I suddenly realized that I look forward to this shared time with Jack more than I care to admit. To the extent that when we are all in a group, J almost gets on my nerves….
It’s not quite that simple though because I still like J a lot, even in the midst of this mild near-annoyance thing. J is just so blasted likeable!!!! Yeah, he’s cute and sweetly adorable, kind and helpful, caring and smart. He’s definitely a total nerd…and I LOVE that!
Love it, love it, LOVE it…right up until the moment he’s held up in the light directly against Jack. Jack isn’t cute or handsome… Jack is freakin’ SEXY. Jack is the sensual “dark soul” with the sensitive side he thinks he hides so well, but actually it just gives me the urge to tempt him into bringing it out. He’s that bad ass, sarcastic, funny, tough as nails guy…mysteriously quiet, but an expert conversationalist when he chooses. And I don’t know exactly why, but we talk so easily to one another and I. Love. It!

...and Jack exhibits more of this kind of appeal....umm...OMFG!!

So, ummm…yeah, I secretly really look forward to these little spontaneous communiqués and I admit, it kinda nagged at me a bit how much I truly have begun enjoying this. That guilty feeling hits me every time “J” asks, do you mind if Jack joins us? Uhhh…nooooo…I don’t mind at all. In fact, please? Could he? Pretty please??
Okay, so I’ve been dealing with this (I think) effectively. I’ve started trying to pay ALL my attention to J in these situations and limit my attention to Jack. I’ve been focusing my thoughts during those times at all the incredibly wonderful and endearing traits of J and how much I adore him. This has worked…sorta…mostly…. Well, I was at least convincing myself it was.
…Until this past Monday. Monday, in a strange and unusual turn of events, Jack was called to my place of work for a civic duty…not something at all avoidable or by choice…totally and simply and absolutely just by chance. In fact, J had told me this was coming up and I casually blew it off. But I didn’t really…I took serious note of this information and deliberately took an off-the-typical-mark lunch hour, conscientiously and deliberately attempting to avoid any possibility of running into Jack sans J. Okay, I have this so under control here.
So, on Monday I take a very late lunch and while attempting to leave my office area, a very chatty co-worker engages me in idle chat. And she’s chatting…and chatting..and chatting… seems her husband had been called in for this civic duty as well and she’s just going on an on…and on…and on… Bless her heart! Finally, my stomach growls so loudly, I snatch the opportunity to say, Gosh, I really gotta go…I’m starving! And she lets me walk away..finally!
I’m coming down the hall, feeling so proud of how I’ve avoided getting myself into any wonderfully uncomfortable situations and as I round the bend by the elevators, my peripheral vision catches a familiar face stepping out of the elevator to my left.  A familiar sexy face with that adorable mischievous grin and that mysterious “dark” look all about him…
Yeah, it’s Jack. And what are the odds???? Seriously..wtf?!
So, I can’t politely (or with any explainable reason!) avoid this now. What am I supposed to say? Sorry Jack, I know we hang out together at least four nights a week and I date your friend, and we have become the best of friends in the process, buttttttt, I’m secretly so attracted to you that I would feel guilty having lunch with you or being in your presence without J…. Seriously, how could I say that? And how could I explain avoiding him? I so suck at coming up with on-the-spot excuses/fibs too…umm..what the hell do I DO now??
And so… yeah, Jack and Kay go have lunch together. A lovely lunch during which I desperately attempted to disguise my nervous secret with babbling silly chatter and laughed so hard at one point that I spewed lettuce toward his face. I can only say I’m really, REALLY fortunate Jack doesn’t know me much better or I’m pretty sure he’d have totally been on to the fact that something was up with me. I can only pray he didn’t though.
Anyway, it was a blast having lunch with Jack! I was flustered and attracted, and trying terribly hard to force myself out of any sense of attraction to this guy…and finally it was over. I thank him for a fun lunch and we say good bye. Me, hoping and praying that my attraction to him wasn’t blaring between the lines of my desperation to not feel or acknowledge, even inadvertently, this fucked up attraction.
I breathed a bit easier as I walked away from him. Phew…spending an hour “alone” with him and not blurting out my big secret was amazingly more difficult than I even had anticipated. Breathe….but it was over. I did it!! Yayy!! Breathe… Commence to my office and on with ignoring this unwanted, unplanned, unexpected, and unfortunate attraction to Jack..Get it back in freakin’ perspective…breathe…breathe…
No. It did not help! I could not get this man off my mind for the next six hours!!! As if it hadn’t already been a chronic challenge to keep my thoughts of him in appropriate perspective before our innocent little lunch, I was so light headed and distracted with thoughts of him now that I made more stupid mistakes in the next few hours at work than I have in all the weeks I have been there total……… because I had Jack on the brain… and sadly, I have ever since…just can’t seem to shake it…UGHH!
Eeeeeeeeeeek…OMG…what now?

Yeah, I stirred the moral gravy pot…and got a little creepy on my shirt…

Very interesting weekend…full of atrocious stupidities, learning experiences, and interesting possibilities of learning experiences to come!

I’ve yet to discuss in depth here contestant #2 in the Who wants to Date a Married Man Show.  The reason for this is primarily that my interest in him is hardly enough to mention.  He is Drunken-Dance(from two years ago)-Guy; I’ve just never had a huge interest in him on any level because …uhhh well, because he just does not hold my interest.  He’s in the basic, semi-attractive category looks-wise and his conversation skills, while they’re not horrible by any means, they are way less than intriguing.  In fact, if I had to compare him to a food, he’d go safely into the simple and bland category of plain white rice or say, whole-wheat bread maybe…but subtract any healthy aspects as he’s married and therefore lacks any health-nutrients whatsoever. If I had to liken him to an activity, it would be something like watching paint dry.  Yeah, he’s that irresistable!

However, he does get five stars for persistence.  I have blown this guy off to the point of rudeness.  I rarely answer his calls at all and I’m only mildly chatty when we do have conversations.  I make no attempt whatsoever to be charming, cute, exciting, or flirty to this man.  I mean ZERO attempts…and he continues to call and proceeds to imply this “thing” between us.  What thing? …as there’s been no “thing” and I’ve demonstrated no interest in creating a “thing” !  Apparently a “thing” in his mind is enough ‘thing” to a “thing” make.  This point leads me to perceive DDG as a self-consumed ass.  No, he’s never been rude or inappropriate directly  but his sheer persistence combined with my obvious lack of interest in him and in having any “thing” with him can only mean one thing: absolute self-consumption.  Self-consumed because he’s oblivious to my lack of interest and “ass” because he’s so persistently and actively looking to cheat on his wife…ummm…yuk!

The last few times he’s asked to see me, if I had plans with friends, then I’d say, Hey I’m going out with some friends later, if you want to meet up, you’re welcome.  He always responds like, I can’t really meet you in groups (really?  Umm…why?  Are you implying we have some secret thing going on or something?).  I simply say, Okay…suit yourself…gotta run…buh-bye.  This annoys me for two reasons.  One:  the thought of sitting somewhere alone with him has loud overtones of an experience akin to counting every grain of sand on the beach.  And two: and once again: there is nothing going on here to “hide”!  Nothing!  Nada!  The only thing to hide here would be his lewd thoughts and depraved intentions!  To imply directly to me that we’re on some secret clandestine journey together which must remain well-hidden from random people whom he doesn’t know and don’t know (or give a damn) about him, is ludicrous to the degree of laughable.  There is nothing going on here pal, aside from your pathetic and futile efforts to get something going on.  Have a hint buddy:  there has to be something to hide before there’s a need to sneak around and stay out of the spotlight…or in this particular case, keep out of random crowds of people in public places.  You’re not Justin Bieber for gawd’s sake – avoiding the paparazzi and possibly horrifying Enquirer headlines.  For the love of white rice…get over yourself already!  Hmph….annoying….!!

On top of which and I reiterate – nothing is going on!  And if he’d use even a smidgeon of thought, intelligence, body language (speech), or intuition, he’d clearly see that NOTHING is in danger of going on either!  Pshh….ridiculous.  Hey schmuck-man, I’ve shown as much interest in you, meeting up with you, or even talking to you as I would a paint-by-number with only one freakin’ number!  Hello??  Is anybody home???

So…one (especially I)  will never know why when he called Friday early evening and asked if I was free to go have a drink, I agreed.  Almost backed out before the conversation even ended though, as he struggled to think of a suitable (i.e. “safe”) place to go.  What’s up pal?  Are you thinking this “meet for a drink” is code for a public make-out-fest?  If you’re as nervous as a whore in church just to sit in a public bar and have a drink with me with 100 other people sitting around sharing the same space as we, then I have to go with, Not a good idea for you to do it fella!

And the fact that you ARE this nervous over NOTHING firmly tells me that you’re not at all interested in any kind of friendship or camaraderie with me…in fact, you’ve not even contemplated that possibility…and ewww..that makes me feel dirty all by itself.

Yeah, I don’t know why I went anyway.  Chalk it up to my informal research of immoral asses like this or listening to Sympathy for the Devil too many times, I dunno.   No.  Hey, you know what?  Actually, we can just chalk this up to my growing fatigue at his persistence in the face of my obvious lack of interest; as in, yeah, okay, let’s get this over with my friend; let’s set the record on this straight once and for all pig-cheater-guy; let’s invite the fat lady to sing already so we can get to the more pertinent (and final) act two of you LOSING MY NUMBER, you LOSER-ASS.  Hell, if you’re going to try to have a cheat-on-your-wife-fest with me, then at least be interesting or for the love of gawd, look up the word finesse in the dictionary.  GAWD..something…anything…to make yourself seem appealing in some way, shape, or form to even have a conversation with, much less a freakin’ extramarital affair!!

Thankfully, he selected a local place where many of my friends frequent.  I know Billy the bartender quite well and yay! he was working.  Cheating pig comes in a few minutes after I, acting  all weird-n-creepy-like, pays for my drink and then says, looking straight ahead and not at me, “We can’t be here.  Someone is here that I didn’t expect.”  Ohhh..really?  Okay… you’d probably better go then.  No, he says, my truck is outside parked on the hill.  Meet me out at my truck, but wait a few minutes after I leave to walk out.

What the FUCK?!  Now, I’m starting to think that this guy is doing this just for the “excitement”, as he’s making up drama where there isn’t any and making things look suspicious where there’s NOTHING. Does he fancy himself as the starring actor in some dramatic movie-of-the-week?  Has he listened to a few too many renditions of “Secret Lovers”?  Hell, I’m questioning even his basic intellectual capacity at this point..  OMG…is he just a literal idiot too?  I’m further annoyed. Because of my extreme level of annoyance, I took a reeeeeaaaaally long time to finish my drink: tiny sip…chit-chat with random lady sitting next to me…tinier sip…chat up Billy-the-cutie for a few minutes…sippy-sip…text a few friends….sippiest sip – which was more like a kitten’s little lap…watch some hockey on the bar television….siiipppp….  Finally, about forty minutes or so later, I get up to head outside and Billy asks, Awww, where ya goin’?  I say to meet up with a friend.  He winks adorably at me and says well you should come back…I’m working all night long.  Awwwww…Billy is irresistibly adorable!

Outside, I look back and forth from my car to the hill, debating if I even wanted to bother with whatever was next in this absurdity.  I went to his truck and jumped in.  I realize given my feelings about this kind of thing mixed up with my lack of interest, this seems truly an odd decision, but it was a great choice after all and I’ll tell you why.

Sitting in his truck, he starts talking of the random anonymous person in the bar who made it uncomfortably unsafe for him.  Awww……so I suggested another totally secluded out of the way bar and he said, “I don’t even know where that is”.  Ummm yeah…exactly you idiot.  Geesh!  Then, he says his wife is out of town and we could just go to his house.  Oh my freakin’ gawd…now that is it.  He was clearly not interested at all in maybe sitting and having a drink and an attempt (however futile for him that might’ve been) at some witty conversation. Now, I had all the answers and info I could possibly ever need about this guy and this situation.  Right along with all those answers came my rare ability to just speak plainly sans my politeness and my don’t-wanna-hurt-anyone’s-feelings-rose colored loquacious crayon.  And my irritation became loud and proud.  If you’re that nervous to just have a drink with me when nothing else has happened between us at ALL, then you shouldn’t be doing  this.  Why are you trying so hard to cheat on your wife anyway?  What’s the matter with you?

He bluntly says, I’ve wanted you since the minute I first saw you.  When I see you somewhere, I can’t pull my eyes away from you.  I think about you too much…all the time really…

WHAT.  THE.  FUCK?!  Are you freakin’ kiddin’ me?!  You’re an utter weirdo?! Psh…no I didn’t say that  utter weirdo part.

So I say, I was willing to have a drink with you and chit-chat, but if your sole endeavor here is to cheat on your wife, I gotta break  it to you, you picked the wrong girl.  I can’t be certain I’d be interested in whatever you’re suggesting even were you single, but I do know for certain that being any part of you cheating on a sacred thing like marriage holds zero interest for me. I’ve been cheated on by a husband before and I will never be that person who takes part in that kind of ugliness or creates that much pain in another human being’s heart.

He nods his head and says he understands.  I start to get out of his truck and he says, I just want you to know you’re beautiful. And whenever I see you anywhere, I’ll be thinking of how much I want you…just know that…

Yeah, you go with that pal…seal that coffin.  Because that little last gift you offered up, just makes me feel wrong and so freakin’ dirty that I now feel like I need to go home and immediately take a shower just to cleanse myself of the pile of disgust you’ve just immersed me in.

No, I didn’t say that part..although I kinda wish I had..  I just hopped out of the truck and walked the few feet to my car, debating whether to go back in and chat with Billy the adorably sweet bartender and drown my disgust in yager bombs and bloody mary’s or go home and scrub myself down head-to-toes with a harsh disinfectant and holy water.

Again, the debate was tough.  I just felt so horrible that I’d even met up with this guy…so disgusted with myself, with him, with the debauchery and casual nature of this kind of thing in general.  Hmm…drown the mind/thoughts in a haze of alcohol… or scrub myself fresh and clean…??

I opted to just go home and take a two hour shower, washing away the entire nasty ass residue that creeper-man had  radiated onto me.  Umm…yuk!

Screams of an highly imaginative guilty conscience

So in the Who Wants To Date a Married Man game show of life…and yes, I use the word “date” very loosely here! Perhaps it might more aptly be called “how to gracefully dodge married men”, with the primary emphasis there being on gracefully…and secondarily on dodge.
Contestant number one, we’ll call him Z and here,  Z is for Zirconia…yeah, as in cubic zirconia. That lovely gem which makes a fairly decent attempt at being a successful imposter.
I see Z as this: He looks good, almost wholesome even; he’s certainly no “God of men” in the looks department like say Chris Pine… or the whole beef, bean, chicken, rice, and veggie enchilada that Matt Damon effortlessly encompasses (psh…umm as if anyone….), but I’d gander that Z would be rated at least above average attractiveness by the majority of females over 25.   Z is educated, and has a charismatic flair which just might be able to cause the likes of Angelina Jolie to take momentary notice. Yeah, the level of charisma involved here borders on lethal. In fact, if stripped down to the basic naked truth here, it’s entirely possible that it’s Z’s level of charisma which allows me to even write of the man in the same paragraph as the every-level-of-extraordinary Matt D.

Shamelessly childish Matt Damon disclaimer:

image via gettyimages.com

 Have I yet mentioned my encompassing, overwhelming, extraordinary adoration, devotion, respect, desire, and attraction to the phenomenal Matt Damon anywhere here? No? Well, I am that girl: a Matt Damon girl. Mr. Damon represents my absolute ideal; he’s boyishly handsome, yet still sexy beyond sexy; well above highly intelligent, dedicated to his ethics and causes, extraordinarily talented, wickedly witty, and yet his ego appears to be intact. If you stripped the Matt-ster of his physical appeal, I feel absolutely certain I’d still find him absolutely irresistible and wondrous. My one true love thus far in life only got a first date because he has a smile like Matt Damon. I married a man with the initials M.D.   Matt is the only “star crush” I’ve ever had. I’d not hesitate to shamelessly cover my walls, even at my age, with posters and magazine pictures of this man. Possibly the only reason I haven’t is merely because his photos, as devastatingly appealing as they are, are not a true representation of his million other qualities which captivate and enthrall me. I cried when he married. Matt Damon simply IS the epitome of my every ideal and fantasy on every level of attraction.

Back to the Z though… Although Z seems to have an element of the Matt’s naturally charismatic nature, there’s something going on there with Z which, in spite of all demonstration and evidence to the very opposite (boyish charm, undeniable natural charisma)…something that flirts around in the “dangerous” zone with a truly deeply layered possibility of sinister. I almost hate to use the word “sinister”; it seems a tad extreme for what I’m actually describing, but I can’t grasp a word which perfectly describes this particular element. And perhaps Z is merely your typical boy-next-door type with that not so unusual bad boy undercurrent? I don’t know… There are tiny implications in his aura/presence/energy which suggest it might go a tad beyond that stereotype, but these only come as hunches and flashes of intuition to me.  There’s nothing in anything the man has actually said or done in my presence which should indicate this darker depth. I just sense it and I *almost* fear it, while also, of course, I find it intriguing and mystifying.

I know without “knowing” that Z is a player of the game. This seems undeniably evident because he’s married and is an outrageous flirt…and a successful one at that, in that he has the ability to actually make one think maybe, just mayyyybe, this guy doesn’t flirt like that with every cute chick he crosses paths with. But, my BS detector has that little inadvertent deception in check. In spite of his talent to make me think there might be limits to his flirtatious activities, my gut screams that this is not so. My intuition hollers at me that his flirtations are, in fact, without any limits whatsoever and perhaps all that’s required is a basic attraction to any quality. What I hear and feel between the lines of his words and actions are closer to something like: she has a nice butt- wonder what I gotta do to get me a piece of that; that one’s lips are nice- how can I get them wrapped around my joystick; oooohhhh look at that cute chin- cool! Somethin’ I can grab ahold of to pull her in for a sensuous kiss. In fact, my gut says this might go so far that the only stipulation he might have at all is simply that the target is female. Um…yukk!!
Not that I’d date him anyway. Yeah, if he was single I admit I might fall briefly for his charm and wit. However, he is most definitely not, thus… Big fat NO to the Z!
…but I have been having a little fun doing some informal research of sorts into how this married-man thing works. I have several friends who have engaged in this kind of thing and I’ve always been curious, but never wanted to ask for much specific info on the subject for obvious reasons…
So, I’ve had wings and beers alone with the Z, but mostly and to his chagrin I might add, we text. Our texting sessions tend to go along the lines of him trying to catch me available to hang out for an afternoon rendezvous. It’s so strange how he just never accomplishes that..hehe… When I AM available and/or alone, I don’t respond to his calls or texts until a few days later when I’m not available and feel certain he won’t be either.  And when I’m NOT available, I respond immediately just to find out what kinds of things he’ll say or do, knowing I have a legitimate excuse promptly on hand for not hanging out.
In spite of my huge attraction to the study of human nature, informal investigations into practices I can’t comprehend, and (yeah I confess) the appeal of his charisma, this whole questionable association/attraction has a distinct downside.  

but..but..I love to watch hockey!

Although I’ve not allowed this to cross any major ethical lines, I no longer feel comfortable going to watch my non-FWB buddy play hockey, which I enjoyed immensely before the onset of this tempting flirtation. And this irritates me, particularly since I’ve done nothing wrong!

My conscience is apparently bigger than Texas. The thought alone of getting in my car to purposely drive to anywhere this man is going to be without his wife, fills me with heavy guilt. I ask myself, will I be able to come up with another excuse to leave early once again…avoiding any one on one, face-to-face moments? Would I be able to even enjoy myself, sitting there with all the weight of the guilt? More importantly, would the bleachers even be able to hold me, plus the weight of my guilt or would they tellingly heave and sag directly under me? What if they come crashing down and Mr. Charisma gracefully skates over to my side, falsely claiming I require mouth-to-mouth and in my unconscious state, I mindlessly uttered,  No, no no…you’re MARRIED! Or Stop, I have an important appointment I must get to immediately, or worse yet, what if in my temporary shock at falling I were to go full fledge into damsel in distress mode and merely gasp breathlessly, Oh Z…you’re my hero!
Or… what if his wife were to show up? I wouldn’t know how to act under such circumstances, but I do know the stress and guilt might then combine and I could truly hyperventilate and actually faint…how freakin’ embarrassing that would be! I imagine a scene straight out of Poe’s Tell-Tale Heart, more aptly entitled Kay’s Consuming Guilty Conscience of Just Thinking of Such a Scandalous Tryst! …my furiously beating conscience oozing my slutty red thoughts all about me, all over the damned rink forcing me into a temporary state of Slut’s Tourette’s…randomly bellowing out confessions like, I DID IT….it’s ME…I texted him!! Yeah, I had wings and beers ALONE with him too!  PLEASE forgive me?  Umm…I lived in Vegas for three months! 

This might seem out of the realm of all actual likelihood, I know. But I’m not so sure. I did once go tubing down the river in a rather low and unhealthy temperature for an activity such as submerging my bottom half in bitterly cold rapid waters and with the added bonus of an unexpected and more-than-chilly rainfall, during which I imbibed three stiff cuba libres. 

Famiily-ish River tubing party

 Holy drunken river-tuber-girl, Batman!  …Halfway down the river, bordering on hypothermia, I did develop a rare case of Tourette’s and I began randomly bellowing out swear words and phrases I’ve never vocalized prior in my life!  Oh and this was a group outing too and I should add that this behavior was beyond inappropriate given the variety of people tubing.  We were 15 tubes all tied to each other.  Apparently ( I don’t have any recollection of this), at one point even, I weakly (yeah, thankfully my vocal cords were not at their usual capacity in my diminished physical and mental state of near-hypothermia) attempted through intense and debilitating shivering to scream at a passing motor boat something along the lines of, I will blow every mate on your ship if you’ll f–#@– take me with you!  And as they passed our group in spite of my whispered screams Ialso allegedly said, Fine! Don’t save me then you rat bastard momma screwing, little kitty cats.  So you see, the sudden onset of Tourette’s-Under-Stress phenomenon is not at all out of the question for me during excessively uncomfortable situations. 

Nahhhh, since I lack the will-to-silence of Hester Prynne,   I’m avoiding any possibility of ANY of those OMG-what do I do now situations! …and then of course I have to wonder what in the hell would I be like if I actually ever followed through with anything like having a fling like this?  Gasp! The guilt alone might consume me alive. Geesh, how do people DO things like this and just walk around like nothing?!

Excuse me, is that a temptation band on your other hand?

I’ve been home now since mid October…back in the stompin’ ground of my youth…and beyond! A little battered, a smidge beaten even, but I made it. Dating hasn’t been a priority and I’ve not bothered to even check my aquarium account or check in at all with that little diapered-man. Instead, I’ve been nursing broken hearts, repairing wounded self esteems, and communicating regularly with my attorney in my fight for retribution. I’m typically not big on the retribution thing, as there actually isn’t anything in the world valuable enough to compensate for what has been broken and lost in this; mostly I just want my house back. That place of comfort and security which we left in July….sighhhhh….
However, being back in the Stompin’ Ground does have a few advantages of which I’ve become newly aware. 1. I actually know people here! 2. I know my way around, which minimizes my irrationally chronic fear of getting lost. 3. My father is not only near, but without a doubt, a blessing from God.
Although my focus hasn’t been on online dating, I have had a few opportunities to get out and about and meet up with people, both new and old acquaintances. I’ve come to a huge discovery in this process of reacquainting myself here: What’s up with the married men around here? Lived here on and off for the majority of my life and have had very limited (as in merely ONE) exposure to the married man hitting on me in all that time.
I move away, move back and WHAM! (No, don’t wake me up before you go-go….in fact, don’t even come over-over at all-all…just go-go before you come-come, okay?)
I am suddenly a married man MAGNET! What is this? Did living in the city of sin stamp me with a “no moral fiber” tramp stamp of which I’m totally unaware? Where are these men coming from? What’s wrong with their marriages? Okay, strike that one please, as that little question could take months for me to properly analyze alone! But… what IS up with this? What is up with me that I seem to be suddenly drawing them in like unemployed lumberjacks to the forest?
Hmmm… I might have an easy answer to that, if I were frequenting single’s bars, presenting myself as one “looking for action”, but I swear to you, I am not! The two primary contestants in this quiz-show I stumbled across in the most innocent of fashions. One, at a men’s hockey league game which I attended to watch a friend (no, not a FWB, just a friend) play and the other, during a brief trip to the mall while last-minute Christmas shopping. There I was,  in grey sweatpants and a hoodie which in all likelihood had long-forgotten, permanent stains on it from some zestfully eaten lunch-on-the-run from days gone by when passing by the Verizon store, I lock eye contact with guy-I-once-shared-one-drunken- slow-dance with almost two years ago.
I’m not without any vanity, so yeah, I was embarrassed to see him (even just in passing) while in such an inappropriate state of dress. I blushed and then remembered the guy is now married and I’m sure couldn’t care less what I wear on any given day. Hell, I hadn’t spoken with this guy in so long, he probably can’t even recall where he knows me from.
Uhh…. Wrong-wrong. Approximately three hours later I get a call from a number I don’t recognize and guess who…?? Yup, disastrously-drunken-dance-from-two-years-ago guy! Seriously, how does he still have my number even? I have always been under the mistaken assumption that to keep a number that long which you don’t use then, you must have dated, had sex, or been the best of friends…something, anything, even mildly momentous in some way in which you might at some point want to re-visit or experience again. It’s the “just in case I re-think that one” or “in the event I have a moment of weakness when I doubt my past choice” number preservation system. None of which apply here as he and I shared one thing and one thing only: one disastrous drunken dance.
Suffice to say, I was quite taken aback when guy identifies himself. I’m sorry, who is this again?? Unfortunately, my breeding doesn’t allow me to follow that up with a snide “and why are you calling me?” No. So, after the identification process, I just listened. He asks if I’m in Vegas still and just visiting or if I’m back…WHAT?!! How did…? Who told…? Ahhh don’t get me started on the glories of small town livin’ where even the lady three blocks over has a second uncle removed who knows you moved to Vegas…there will be plenty about that to come!
Anyway, not wanting to jump to conclusions, I talked little and briefly and listened long and well… exercising my rarely used ability to put silence in places for the distinct purpose of creating those telling moments of discomfort. I mean, after all, perhaps he just wants to be friends…
OMG, did I really just type that without laughing?
Nahhhh…he wants to meet up….hang out….what-not…. hob-nob….all behind his wife’s back! This, coming in a time-frame where I’m still smack-dab in the midst of figuring married hockey man’s lingering attraction.
…which I still am in the midst of and have so far only learned one thing in regard to this sudden married man phenomenon: the blessing of a married man affectionately calling is that he’s MARRIED and doesn’t have nearly as much time or freedom to call. Which in turn, eliminates a great deal of my personal problem of maintaining my social grace in awkward situations while still oh-so-subtly blowing off said advances…or perhaps dodging them is a more accurate verb. I confess, I’m struggling with blowing these guys off completely. Well, at least one of them I am…
Life’s irony never fails to shoot many blows to my over-analytical mind. As I struggle to maintain basically old-fashioned ethics in the shadowy face of temptation, I’m suddenly smacked with constant media and entertainment concepts that romanticize this issue and remove a bit of the GASP! factor from my temptations: movies, stories, articles, personal friends…all about either cheating on their significant or cheating with someone else’s significant. It seems to be everywhere I turn! Now, what in hell is this message? I can’t tell if I’m being signaled the go-ahead to try this adventure out or if I’m being tested to a new limit of my personal ethics.
Either way, I’m still hanging strong…in limbo, yes, but hangin’ strong just the same.

EUREKA?!

Haven’t been on any dates lately, so I’ve not much on that to update….  Have had several lovely offers, but just not feeling it really…

However, I made an interesting discovery today which is both perplexing and somewhat comical to me…we all know how strange my sense of humor is though…hehe 🙂

ahhh geesh...did my kids throw their garbage on the ground?

Cleaning outside around our pool area this morning, I came across this tiny little shiny gold thing…really shiny…like..well, like sparkly gold!  No one has been out there hanging out in weeks so I’m curious of course.  I pick it up…..  Couldn’t really figure out what it was at first….I’m thinking, a candy wrapper from the kids or something…?

No.  that’s not it.  It has a tiny section of writing on it…but I can only make out one full letter…umm….it’s an“M” in black….umm…????  WHAT???  I’m pretty sure it’s…it’s…noooooooo…it’s not possible….ummm…it’s…nooooooo…

WTF??

And I’m aghast!  Truly, ummm….this isn’t possible.  There’s no way….I must be mistaken, after all it has been awhile…

It’s a small corner section of a condom wrapper!!  WTF??!  That can’t be!  No one’s been out there “getting busy” since I moved here three months ago.  And I mean no one!  In addition, it can’t have been out there for very long (before we moved in?) either because I’m out there by myself at least once a day for a few moments and I’m certain I’d have noticed something so shiny and bright that it looked like jewelry if it had been there for any length of time…

Could it have blown from a neighbors’ garbage out on the street…over and above the cement walls dividing our back yards….  Ummm….that seems highly unlikely, bordering on impossible.  So…what in the hell is this…?

You have GOT to be kiddin me...

Umm….seriously, WTF?  So of course I ponder further…. Hmmmmm…. Other than swimming with the Lingerer (months ago), no man has even been out there at all….and NO man since I moved here has been out there in a situation to need a condom!

Wait…

Mr. Nurse was out there checking on how to get my hot tub going since I haven’t used it yet…umm…..  But…I wasn’t even out there with him.  We weren’t making-out out there at all…Ummm……….

OMGOMGOMG!!!! Is it possible that Nurse-man was so certain he was going to get “lucky” that he put on a condom in advance?????

That’s a disturbing thought…truly…extremely disturbing!  However, it does explain my weird “feelings” when Nurse-guy was here….OMG!!!

Ughhh…you have got to be kidding me!!!  And don’t you even think that the irony of the “M” is at all lost on me…hahahahahah…life really does have quite the sense of humor, doesn’t it?

Prison matters and obligatory BJ’s

Yeah, I threw it...

 I have a rule never to say, well at least it can’t get any worse.  We’ve all experienced the Universal sense of humor which rolls like an electric current of torturous laughter at our expense through our worlds; the tempting of the fates’ massive ego and uncanny ability to demonstrate, Really?  It can’t huh?  Ohhhh but it  can…..and now that you’ve thrown that gauntlet-of-life-yuk right out there in our path, let us show you… 

For the love of Pete, I know better…or at least I certainly should know better! 

Zeppelin, the “cool dude, single dad, with a great love of (my kinda) music “: 

I am early to the little bar he suggests we meet at.  No, no kudos to me for this lovely effort at punctuality.  I was bored out of my mind and didn’t know where I was going, so I got ready way too early for this date and left with enough time to  get lost for an hour and still be safely on time.  See?  There’s no sense of punctuality in me.  I only have two arrival times: 1. annoyingly early and 2. offensively late.  Thus,  I was annoying early for this one.  He was a forgivable-few minutes late.  Not a bad start. 

I wasn’t overly impressed when he entered the darkened empty sports bar, but I was far from repulsed either.  Zep is a decent average looking guy; a tad shorter than I expected, but not quite to “deal breaker”.  All is good. 

It’s the middle of a Sunday afternoon in an off the strip bar in Vegas, only the staff and Zep and I are there.  That’s kinda cool!   Conversation begins easily and flows at a regular pace.  Within minutes I realize Zep’s a better talker than listener, but this isn’t obnoxious or anything.  I am good at both, so I slip into full listening mode and take it all in.  he orders a shot of Jagermeister and a beer.  

Zeps ex-wife calls it home

Zep is a full-time single dad.  Awwwwwww…He has full custody of his 10-year-old son.  I’m impressed with this.  He explains to me how his ex-wife is in prison for embezzlement to the tune of somewhere around 100k.  I’m delighted that this little boy had a father who not only could stay out of prison, but could actually step up to the plate while his mom does her time.  Zep is appropriately upset about this, but his relief seems even more apparent.  He repeatedly expresses his gratitude that she did this crime after they divorced and while she was re-married to another “loser”.  Otherwise, he realizes how difficult it would have been to prove his lack of involvement.  This is unsettling, but I merely nod, gasp, and mmmmhmmm appropriately and sympathetically, up my listening volume, and turn my talking knob further to the left…  I don’t want to miss any of this good stuff!  He orders another shot of Jagermeister to complement his beer and ease this difficult topic of discussion. 

No worries pal...knock yourself out!

After he discusses the absent mother, the help his parents offer him with daycare, and the ex’s idiot new husband, he asks if I will be offended if he goes out to his car to take a hit.  What?  Is the mob after you and your son?  Aren’t you afraid to go out into an empty parking lot?  Oh you mean hit that illegal drug, marijuana?  Ahhh well, that’s different…  By all means!  I might have been a tad upset with this except, Zep, as he’s walking to the door, throws me this reassurance, “Hey!  Don’t worry…I’m not going to ditch and leave you with my bill!” 

Ahhh….the wave of relief alone could have knocked me over!  After all that was my concern right then.  Although the possibility has never occurred to me prior,  I now  realize how fortunate I am that my date is just going out to his car to smoke pot, not making an attempt to go down in a mob-hit, or ditch me with his food and drink bill!  I must remember this for future dates. 

Zep returns a few moments later.  Orders another shot of Jagermeister and begins telling me how he’s just ended a relationship.  No worries, it’s for the best.  She was an unemployed drunk.  She had nothing to do all day except drink.  It was helpful with things like getting the boy to and from school (ummm..WHAT???!??? ) while he was working and such, but she would just too often start drinking during their lunch meetings.  Too drunk to date, but helpful as a taxi-driver for your child?  Ahhh..okay..well at least your priorities are straight Zep!

On top of that fatal flaw, she didn’t dress appropriately in front of the boy.  They would all go swimming, she would throw on a white t-shirt over her suit after their swims, and then dare to enter the air-conditioned house with his horny 10-year-old boy in the midst!  Geesh..that was just wrong and she should have known better.  Any 10-year-old boy is going to make comments about her breasts under those circumstances and attempt to constantly “wrestle”  with her.  He’s ten, you know?!  Really?   I guess I never would have realized this….   Sorta feeling “icky” about all the 10-year-old-boys I’ve unknowingly turned on, when I really shoulda known better….

He orders another shot of Jagermeister.  Would I like one?   Ummm yeah I actually would to dull the pain of this date   …No thank you.  I have to drive home  NOW ….ummm… in a bit. 

Starting with his possibly over-sexualized 10-year-old son and how the girlfriend was just too sexy for the boy to handle, Zep then starts talking sex; his sex.  How much he likes it; how the wife and the ex girlfriend stopped giving it to him with the frequency which he required; and how after being dumped by his wife, he got out in Vegas a bit and realized how attractive and sexually wanted he really was.  Chicks dig him…he could get it anywhere and here he’d actually been faithful to his relationship, letting her dictate the unsatisfactory sexual pace.  He had been an idiot! 

Umm….do you mind if I run out to my car for another sec, Kay?  No problem Zep…as long as you’re not stiffing me with your bill (wink)(wink) 

Wink-wink

Ahhhh return and  Anther short of Jager please”….you sure you don’t want one?  Yes, please give me 4 to catch up    No, thanks, I really have to get going very soon. 

Now Zep starts to tell me how much he enjoys random blowjobs.  He doesn’t want to have to skip a day of those.  He doesn’t have to, you know?  Plenty of chicks want some of that action…blah, blah, blah… 

Maybe it was the plethora of uncomfortable conversational topics  up till this point, maybe it was the  three-2-in-the-afternoon-Coronas on an empty stomach (I declined any lunch), maybe it wass my well hidden mean streak or my current frustration with games and men in general….?  I really can not know what came over me, but gosh, I suddenly felt torturously audacious and tantalizingly brazen, having already classified this guy into the not gonna date again category, I decide to have a little fun before I leave.  I know…it’s not very nice, but I gotta turn this around and make it interesting somehow, so let the fun begin! 

What? Sometimes bananas aren't in season...

I’m very, VERY sympathetic about the blow job speech. Of course he should not have to live without having those whenever and wherever he wants!  And although I had said very little up till this point, I decide it’s time to tell him a little “about me” before our time is over. 

Zep, it seems you need to find the right girl; the kind of girl who enjoys giving blow jobs…  I don’t understand these other orally selfish women!  Heck, I used to argue with my ex husband because he wouldn’t let me do that

Is this wrong?

enough! Always scared of getting caught at his work or in the restaurant and whatnot.  Geesh! What a freak!  I mean,  sometimes you’re in the car driving to dinner and the mood is just right for that bj-on-the-road, there’s the bye-bye-have-a nice-day-at-work-bj, there’s the QUICK!-the-kids are-in-the-next-room-bj, there’s the dinner’s-on-the-table-but-pretty-please-let-me-blow-you-first-bj, the dessert-bj (duhhh), the foreplay-bj, the post-coital-bj, the can-i-blow-you-while-you-shower-before-work-bj, the I-want-to-tell-you-how-much-I-love-you-but-I-cant-say-the-words-bj, and of course, my favorite of them all, the I-must-worship-your-manhood-daily-bjWhat? Why are these so wrong? 

Maybe it's just an oral fixation I suffer from?

And I become indignant, I mean, gosh, what’s the matter with this Zep?  Sometimes a bj solves everything and it’s just all that is appropriate at that moment.  Is there something wrong with me that I am so compelled to give constant bj’s?  I embellish further in an attempt to gain his sympathy for my previous plight:  Sometimes my ex kinda made me feel weird about this and I might be a little damaged from that. (Sniffle..sniffle) I’m just a girl who likes to give bj’s…so call me Betty and blister my butt, right?  Shoot me and hang me out to dry!  I should be totally free to express myself in this manner whenever I please.  Don’t you agree?  This does not make me trampy or slutty!!  Any normal girl wants to worship her man’s manhood…or at least should want to…GEESH! 

Believe it or not, this confession of mine, leads Zep into discussing my nipples.  In Zep’s defense, no, I’m not wearing a bra and the air conditioning was on high, not that that ever makes a difference.  …And yes, my nipples are much worshipped and could spark the greenest of envy in any Playmate of the month.  Sorry…it just is what it is.  I’m just grateful the horny-10-year-old-boy isn’t around though…how inappropriate!  In fact between my deep reluctance to wear bras except when it’s absolutely unavoidable, my chronically inappropriately sexy and overly eager nipples, and Vegas air conditioning, it’s pretty clear we are not a match. Awwww… the travesty of our sad fate…! 

Ummm…  No I didn’t say that part about the travesty of our fate! Psh…  C’mon?!!? 

Instead, I say, Ummmm, I’m so sorry Zep, but I’m really uncomfortable talking about my nipples with you.  I hardly know you and I think this is an inappropriate topic for first-date conversation. 

Sing it for me, Rob!

Clearly bewildered at my suddenly prudish stance, poor Zep apologizes.  And I said, “No worries. I’m not mad or anything, just setting some healthy boundaries. Anyway, I have to go.  Nice to meet you! Thanks for not ditching me with the bill! 

 …And she’s buyyyyyyinggggg the sta-air-way…..to heaaaaaaven.

Zeppelin, HD1-2, and head-spinning madness

I’ve been enjoying a couple of kinda fun  email exchanges and text-servations this past week, in spite of all that other M-whatnot and whatnot…   

Zep: cool snowboarder/surfer dude, exactly my age who shares a love of Led Zeppelin and classic rock in general with me…  fun, cool conversations…appears attractive in his photos, has a child and seems to understand and share my priorities as well… Good stuff!  We are meeting tomorrow for some drinks and Zeppelin.  I’m actually a bit excited to see what he’s like in person!   

Not so sure about these two dudes...hmm...

HD dudes:  hmm…..?  I am emailing/texting with two HD motorcycle guys. (HD1 and HD2?)  Both seem pretty cool.  I get borderline vibes from one and semi-borderline vibes from the other, but quite honestly, I have to re-check their profiles out to remember which is which, as they are fairly similar and I’ve no plans to meet either yet.  Although the one that seems “better” (for whatever reason?!) has invited me several times on a ride.  I very much want to go soon, but haven’t been able to squeeze that in just yet.   

...back to just mystified...

  Two (or three?) OMGWTF moments:   

  M started texting me Friday night as I was leaving with kids for a festival.  Yada, yada, yada….another lengthy and frequently misunderstood communiqué with M via text (sighhhhhhh…) These are truly getting so redundant and lengthy that I don’t even want to bore anyone by posting them anymore.    

Summary:  M says he’s back home and having drinks at the pub and hopes I have a nice weekend.  I say good for you; wish I could join you.  He says I don’t wish I could because he is too “busy and defensive”…    

WTF?!

(GAWD that makes me mad!  Don’t isolate something and act like it stands in a vacuum void of everything else I took the time and patience to text and/or email!  It makes me feel like I’m wasting every moment even bothering to try to “discuss” something with him…ughh!)   

I reassure him I do wish that because I like him and that I feel confident he knows I do as well, so I’m not going to explain it all again in a freakin’ text.  OMG…   

He explains how all this travelling isn’t his “usual” schedule and how his daughter needs him a lot right now and he does need someone who understands that.   

Umm…okay…I understand that.  To a point….  And then, I merely understand that while I might be able and willing to deal well with those things, when we add the defense mechanisms and “proving” his whereabouts, and not having much time with him (for whatever the reason is), it’s just too much for me and doesn’t balance out in the big picture.   

But dammit… I like him.  Geesh…  Wtf?!     

So…since my car was left in his neck of the woods, I suggested we not have another text (OMG….I can’t/won’t do it anymore…ughh) session and instead I stop over to actually discuss all that can’t be conveyed via a freakin text-servation….  So, I did… and I stayed.  And we laughed and talked and just hung out innocently.  I told him about my Hoover Dam date and the sleeping pills. He was whiney that I’m dating other people while he gives me his every spare moment and hasn’t once seen anyone else since he started seeing me.  Yeah, shut the front door, I said…I do not want to hear it! Blah, blah, blah…   

Yeah..so it's not this...unfortunately!

  And dammit, I like him.  It’s not some hot and heavy passionate thing either, I just like being around him.  I’m almost wishing it was some crazy wild sexual attraction thing…I could understand and deal with that.   In fact, no sex at all has happened in a while….that part is just not really all that intriguing to me(and has created a whole separate phenomenon which I’ll share in another post someday).  Overall, although I like being around him a lot, I’m just not all that interested in the sexual aspect and M’s flirty and suggestive about sex, but doesn’t push it at all either; which I like about being with him too.   This, this whatever-the-hell-this-is, I just freakin do not know wtf is going on?!   

And then I left in the morning with him saying let’s go to a movie this afternoon.  (I said maybe but then later remembered I couldn’t…)  I smile for a while and feel pretty good about the M thing…whatever it is, it does make me smile sometimes!   

And after being home and away from him for a few hours of being away, I have only two chronic and troublesome thoughts:  1. DAYUMM, my ex boyfriends’ new “girlfriend” is one lucky chick…  And I kinda want to hate her for that…  but I just can’t…  sighhhhh…   

And 2.  WTF is M ‘s freakin deal anyway?  More importantly, does it even matter what I decide to do?  It just sort of seems to have a whole life of its own anyway.  Perhaps instead of making any choices, judgments, or decisions at all, I’m just better off to flow with the current, whatever that current is, whenever it flows…?  Hmmm…..   

Ohhhhhhhh myyyyyyyyy  GAWWWDDD, as I was just finishing up typing this post (yesterday afternoon), M texted me some garbage about how he doesn’t know what he wants, but he doesn’t want a relationship right now or to waste my time and he hopes we can be friends!    

Photo via Johnny-Depp.org

...what M looks like in my mind now...truly MAD!

 OMFGOMFGOMFGOMFG    ….is this shit for REAL??? Well, the friends thing has clearly been decided because now this has become a game of epic proportion!  I was shocked and befuddled..WTF??!!  So I text back, ummmm…wow..this is the craziest, most childish game I’ve ever dealt with, I wonder if he has some bi-polar issues and I don’t  bother  with having “friends” who just flip my head around seemingly for the fun of it alone; there’s really no room for game playing in my friend-arena, I do not know WTF he is talking about, and I wish him the best, as this now is just too fucked up across the board.  

 Here is where it gets truly EPIC:  M texts back that he’s offended by this.  (Reiterates yet AGAIN that) he hasn’t been seeing anyone else since he met me, and that he just didn’t want to waste my time, but is sincerely offering me his friendship………  

 Umm….I really, REALLY hesitate to ever call anyone “crazy”.  Anyone who reads my blog knows my feelings about that overly used and mistaken label.  BUT, I really am starting to think it applies here!! M is one crazy fucker! 

  Seriously pal, REALLY?  YOU’RE fucking offended?  You pull all this random weird nonsensical crap and YOU’RE fucking offended??????  Umm, I learned that tactic in Psych 101 my freshman year of college pal.  Yeah, you’re offended…  So, I say, I’m not the one playing stupid games, you’ve no right to be offended in the slightest (you freak..no I didn’t actually call him that but I certainly implied it).  I say I don’t know why he keeps telling me he’s not seeing anyone else when I keep telling him that I AM dating other people.  In fact, I have a date for Sunday even…..but what does that have to do with anything?  WTF are you even talking about here pal?  You’re making zero sense and I’m to the point of not making any more excuses for his sporadic and strange behavioral whims anymore.  It’s. Just. Fucked. Up. And sadly, way too fucked up to carry on as friends now (which for GAWD’S sake is pretty much what we were doing anyway in my opinion…mostly).   

I mean NO KIDDING – WTF IS THIS SHIT ANYWAY?   (No I didn’t text that either, but you know, pretty much in so many words).  M actually texts me back “not to text him ever again”.   

ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDIN’ ME??!  HE IS TOTALLY FUCKED UP… And I’m so irritated at him by this crazy-ass point, that I text back ANYWAY (merely because he told me not to..and anyway at this point, I truly could just care less wtf this man wants, needs, or thinks about me or anything at all..hehe). I text, “No problem.  Your game.Your rules. You win.”

Bye-byeeeeee! 

But (forcing myself back to the important stuff here), I get to have drinks and Zeppelin with a new guy today!  Let’s just hope he’s even half as cool as he seems! Hell, after this ridiculous effed-up M-crap, as long as he doesn’t suffer from bi-polar schizophrenic disorder, there’s no way he can’t at least be a refreshing change from this amazingly disturbing, fucked-up garbage with M!