Tag Archives: obnoxious

Crazy Psycho Stalker Bitches UNITE

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Oh yeah...they're out there!

Twist of fate.  I wrote a post awhile back (FB aka SNWMD (social networking weapon of mass destruction) about what a FBUW I am and this lovely redhead who got irate because I posted, “hey, what’s up?” on her boyfriend’s FB page.  As ridiculous as that response was, I respected it and opted not to post on my friend’s (her boyfriend) page again.

Shortly after that time, I went to the beach with this couple and we had a really nice day.  I was a little leery of Red and her possible insane jealous side, but I was really grateful to get the chance to know her a little.  After all, I’ve been friends with her guy for a super long time and I’d prefer we just get along.  Nothing too friendly occurred, but hey, it was a step in a positive direction.

I respected her “jealousy” and ceased posting anything at all on her man’s page.  I even friended her on FB in a show of complete truce-making spirit.  It’s been almost a year since the FB comment which set her off and I felt things were at a more even keel when I finally again posted something light hearted and innocent on my FB page regarding her boyfriend. I hadn’t seen him in a while and he just recently returned from a trip abroad when I ran into him, literally in passing,  and we shared a brief exchange.

I was walking out the door of my local Cheers-type pub.  He was just coming in and I said, Hey L…now that you’ve travelled the world, you probably don’t think I’m the wittiest girl you know anymore huh?  I say this as I give him a hug and continue on to the parking lot.  He quips back to me, Ahhhhh….don’t fret, Kay, you’re still definitely in my top three wittiest people ever!”

I squeal with delight as I jump in my car, I’m still in!  I’m still in!

It’s playful.  It’s fun.  It’s very brief and even more innocent.  And that is that.

So feeling confident that Red no longer sees me as the threat she did a year ago, I boast on FB about this little compliment, tagging L in said post.  “After flitting about the world a bit, my dear friend L still says I’m still in the top three wittiest people.  Oh how I heart a person who can appreciate my wit!”

I don’t see anything wrong with this post and I actually feel confident Red will click “like” on it and/or make a witty comment about it.  She’s pretty witty herself from what I can tell…beyond the jealousy bit.

What I don’t expect was an outright vicious attack on me right there, in FB public!!  All random and psycho like for the FB world to see, i.e., my friends, family, co-workers, etc, etc.  Geesh, do I underestimate the insanity of Red-Hot jealousy or what?!  Yeah, I do. Ummm…..M is for MORTIFIED!

Red calls me narcissistic and vain and brings up how she feels I exercise no boundaries because I applied sunscreen to her boyfriend’s back that day at the beach!

WHAT?  Is this for freakin’ real?  I’m taken aback, flustered, mortified, and enraged all at once.  Are you kiddin’ me?  I didn’t post anything out of line or inappropriate.  I didn’t say, Dear friends, family, and random co-workers, my friend L thinks I’m the hottest chick in the universe, or the most desirable, or the greatest, or the sexiest kitten ever.  Nope.  Just that I’m witty damnit.  Yeah, just witty.  And hell, not even the wittiest of them all, but just still in the top three.  WTF?!

So Red and I have an (OMG!) little drama fest on FB, posting back and forth about this craziness. I should have merely deleted my post, I know….  Yet, I just felt after her wordy, scathing attack, to delete it was somehow to concede to the truth of her words.  Thus, I did not take the high road and I simply continued to defend my innocent and light-hearted, non-malicious and non-threatening post.

As this embarrassingly continued, I did realize on several occasions, trying to win an argument with a paranoid psycho-crazy jealous chick was not a sane battle at all.  After all, I had reason and sanity on my side.  Whereas she, had paranoia and imagination on hers.  Not a good battle to participate in.  It’s much like taking a knife to a gun slinging show down.  Ya just don’t have all the right ammunition for this particular battle.

Finally, a mutual friend intervenes and reminds us how truly ridiculous this all is and we quiet down.  In addition, Red posts about all kinds of challenges she’s faced while dating my very well liked, sociable, and VERY friendly friend.  And I really feel bad. REALLY bad!  I had no idea that so many women had swarmed my buddy while he dated her.  And suddenly I felt compassion for her craziness and pondered the possibility that, like me at another point in my dating life, she had suffered enough insecurity and challenge in this relationship to possibly bring her to the brink of sanity.  Hell, I’ve been there, crossed into that world of sheer freakin’ madness, and finally returned, albeit forever altered as a human being,  carrying the mental and emotional scars that kind of relationship can create, if we allow them.

And I feel for her situation, her madness, and even her insane level of jealousy.  I see my post from another angle and although I still see it as completely faultless and truly innocent, I suddenly can understand how a mind already damaged from jealousy might see it and overreact.

Finally, L himself responds to this thread.  He comes to my defense about the sunscreen application, but in so doing, he inadvertently shows it as an intentional maneuver on his part.  It seems Red had applied sunscreen to a friend of his one day when  I wasn’t there and L was a bit jealous, so he asked me to apply it to him in front of Red.  I’m sure in an attempt to provoke the jealousy he already knew she had for my relationship with him.  Ughhh!  I’m a pawn in the chess game of their dysfunctional relationship!  And I feel used and dirty!

…And I feel even worse for Red, as this mean trick shows itself fully in the naked light of L’s inadvertent confession.  Poor Red.  No wonder she’s freakin crazy!!  He’s trying to make her that way!!  That rat bastard friend of mine!  As much as I love my friend (and I truly do), being a woman…being a woman who has been on the other end of these maddening games…a woman who always tried to rise above jealousy and jealousy games… I ultimately have to pick the side of the female on this one.  Every time.  Yeah, I have to have the chick’s back on this and call bullshit shenanigans.  Way too many passive aggressive men have instigated this garbage only to calmly sit back and laugh with friends about “some psycho chick”.  Fuck that!  No.  I want NO part of that crap. And I’ll not take being used like that kindly.  Oh HELL no!

I went to bat for Red in a conversation with L and told him in no uncertain terms that I did not approve or appreciate being put into that kind of passive aggressive meanness.  We women have it tough enough being in competition with the world for so many things:  Men, jobs, dating, looks, money, security, weight; God, it’s hard enough to be female in this damned world.  I will not go against a woman in the “make her look like a psycho crazy chick to feed my dull minded limp male ego” game! NUHHHH UHHHHH!

So I had drinks and conversation with L Friday night.  Told him I loved him to pieces but did not appreciate that garbage.  And then I had a three hour heart-to-heart with Red Saturday morning.  I like her.  I feel badly that I was ever put in that position, as I’m the least threat to her ever and that kind of jealousy toward my friends-only friendship with L was just unwarranted and a mean, mean trick.

Strangely enough, I’ve heard from a few people that Red actually is a “whack job” (yes, that’s a quote). And I’m a diehard for the underdog about these things because I still have to give her the benefit of the doubt until she shows her whacked self to me in a situation where I don’t happen to find out it was instigated by another’s sly maneuvers of insecurity.  I also realize these things usually come around to bite me in the ass in a very nasty way, but for the freakin’ jack ass guy who played similar shit-shenanigans on  me a few years back, I just hope at least one person he bragged about me being his psycho stalker (or whatever the hell lying ass phrase he used) might have stopped just for a moment to question before stitching that unfair and untrue label on me:  yeah, that looked kind of crazy, but what in the hell happened just before she responded that way?!  Damnnnn, that dude must have really fucked with that chick’s head….

Right.  So probably not.  It’s doubtful many people stop to ponder that far into things which have little to do with them.  They’re most likely just excited to seize a terrific piece of juicy gossip to make themselves feel superior about their own little miserable worlds.  So, evven though I can’t possibly know if these things ever do really come full circle into karmic justice, but hell, I have to do what I can to see that they do……..for all the “psycho stalker chicks” out there in the world!

This one might be nice...

Now, I just have to come up with the secret handshake for our club.  …Or maybe we can all just get machetes tatooed on our chest.

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?

Part II: Or how my state of bliss was interrupted in spite of my BEST efforts…OMG!

 …So having now offered a background into my nature it’s much easier for me to explain why I chose to end my relationship with M – a man I like, I respect, and I enjoy immensely.  Yeah, I’m bummed a little and my curiosity and inquisitive side is definitely nagging at me to investigate further…

And that’s exactly why I know I’ve made the right choice to end it.

It’s complicated to describe and yet so simple at the same time.

I’ve had a few conversations with M, delicately and respectfully attempting to just get enough information to make a reasonable decision about this confusion with him.  It started after the first date he cancelled (and nearly didn’t tell me).  Yeah, I understand things happen.  I also understand the premise behind “he’s just not that into you”.  Truly, I’m naïve, I’m trusting, but I promise I’m really not ignorant.  I see the possibilities.  I probably see far too many actually and I’m willing to entertain any of them  at this point in my M-relationship.  I mean, I’m still getting to know him..anything is possible.  In addition, I’m not emotionally invested, so denial (or preservation of my heart or pride) is just not necessary at this point.  Sure, I’d like to think he likes me and I see many indications that he does, but if not..whatever.

However, the trouble started after this near blow-off when I questioned whether M was liking me or wasn’t so much into me….  Honest and straight forward; totally willing to face and handle whatever his answer was.  Really, I only asked even because I wouldn’t want anyone to feel obligated to me in any way…ughhh..  that’s not a pleasant feeling.  Suffice to say, I was okay with whatever the sitch was here. 

..but M….OMG…M turned into Mr. DEFENSE after this ONE innocent question.  He started sending me pictures “proving” his whereabouts and activities.  Like, a picture of his car dashboard with a text saying, just so you know I really AM driving right now.

WHAT. THE F*$k????  Really?  Are you freakin’ kidding me?  Let me recall where I’ve once doubted your veracity ……..Ummm…..hmmmmmm??

OH WAIT…I haven’t..not once…nope..not a single time.  Well, okay, one time I thought I saw him when he was out of town, but I concluded all on my own that it wasn’t him.  I never asked him about it or thought much about it even after the initial “sighting”.  There just was no reason whatsoever that he would have needed to lie about something so silly…so I admit, I pondered for a bit, determined it wasn’t him, and went on as usual. (By the way, I still believe it wasn’t him too, but merely an uncanny resemblance.)

Therefore, this ridiculous “proving” of his whereabouts and activities has become just plain annoying and inappropriately defensive.  The first few times he did this, I laughed it off, reassured him repeatedly, and just let it go as perhaps a lingering trust issue from his previous marriage filtering down onto his current perspective.  We all carry some issues like this, so I was willing to offer reassurance to let him know I wasn’t questioning him at all, except maybe whether or not he was really “into me”. Which I asked one time only, believed his response,  and let that go too.   Again, I mean, why would he lie about liking me if he doesn’t?  I wasn’t pressuring him or making demands, I was offering him an easy out if this was the case.  Why would I doubt that?

But this other crap, this I really AM here or doing this or that or whatever, just so you know CRAP was really starting to get on my nerves.  Listen pal, I’m not some psycho suspicious, insecure chick interrogating you or even questioning you.  So let it GO already.  No.  M would not let it go and he continued to pull this crap. 

The catch-22 about this, is that the more I received this unrequested and unnecessary “proof”, the more I’ve started to question the things I wasn’t even questioning in the first place!  Reminder:  my only questions about this relationship AT ALL were 1.  Was he struggling to get past his divorce and still having strong feelings for his ex-wife, which might explain his seeming and occasional lack of interest in me from my perspective?  (BTW, I never once actually asked him about that.)  or 2.  Was he just not that  into me?  No crime in that…  He either is or isn’t.  I’m not devastated either way.

So this defensive garbage was just out of the blue and he was pounding me with it regularly all of a sudden. For no reason at all!

Maddening?  Yeah..you bet!  I don’t enjoy feeling like I have to reassure him that I believe him when I’ve not even entertained such questions in the first place!

I went along with this for a few weeks, assuming it was a past issue and after a few reassurance sessions, he’d get past that and stop treating me like some psycho chick. To be totally honest, this whole process alone was making me start to feel mistrust and question his random defensive tactics.  The very thing he was already trying to quell…he was, instead, creating.  And I did not like it one bit.

So yesterday, after thinking it over a little, I just decided this is what I don’t want to get snared into.  This isn’t me.  I don’t know why he’s doing this and I clearly can’t simply ask because then that might actually give him a reason to be defensive and thus, continue this maddening behavior.  I’m not that girl.  I refuse to be.  This situation gave me no other option but to end it.

So I text him that I really feel there’s an imbalance of some sort going on, that it was making me increasingly uncomfortable.  I was sorry he misunderstood me so much to think I mistrusted his every move and word.  That I liked him, but this seemed to just not be working and with his overly defensive actions, I didn’t even feel comfortable trying to get to the bottom of it all or communicate about it openly.  Wish you the best…sorry it didn’t work out…blah, blah blah…

And guess what?  I receive a response message with a picture of him at the Canadian airport and a message saying, It’s 7 AM in Toronto.  I’ve been here since Tuesday.  Drove back from Phx Monday. The finger is pointing at my blue shirt.  Ok, (Kay) I guess it’s getting weird for me now too.

WTF??!!  Are you kidding ME???!??  Now, that’s it.  Truly..that’s just it.  I respond, Listen M, I’m not having yet another lengthy conversation via text.  It’s just silly under the circumstances.  So I’ll email you.

And I email him that I just don’t understand his defensiveness given my lack of questioning OR suspicions, but that it has boxed me in to a place where I feel I can’t ask anything at all and that goes against my nature and makes things seem strange which I otherwise wasn’t even wondering about. SO what I know for a fact is that he’s gone over 95% of the time and our actual communication gets less and less.  Being that my whole point of meeting anyone was to have a person to spend time with in a strange city with all kinds of extra time I’m not accustomed to having, that whatever the reasons were or weren’t behind all this strangeness, the relationship wasn’t meeting my needs on any level…and was quickly getting to the point of frustrating and just flat-out ridiculous given the totally casual nature of the whole thing in the first place.  Period. The end.  Again, I like you and wish you the best in finding whatever it is you’re looking for…So given the facts alone (because I’m not presumptuous by nature), I’m going to chalk this one up to bad timing. Good luck, take care, etc, etc, etc…

And a few minutes later, I receive this text (minus any “proof” photos thank GAWD)” Re: Email:  I’m not going to try to explain as that apparently is defensive…that’s how it looks.  You’re a great woman and I wish you the best. M

OMFG….  Now, I seriously never want to communicate with M EVER again.  The freak is even defensive about BEING DEFENSIVE.  He’s clueless and is clearly having an entire relationship in his own mind that bears zero resemblance to what’s actually even happening, being said OR being THOUGHT.  Yeah, this is the type of shit that makes a calm, peaceful trusting person get PSYCHO.  NONE of it adds up and EVERYTHING I say or explain merely is another accusation I’m NOT EVEN THINKING.    OMG!!!

That’s an effed up situation and my inner peace has been disrupted too often and way too much at this point for what the relationship was actually providing.

Bye-Bye Now.  And good riddance!

Proof that most men can NOT handle a healthy, balanced woman, healthy open communication, or a relationship with casual expectations. 

WTF?!  I am too irritated to even DATE now.  I let this freakin insanity go on way too long beyond my personal comfort zone.  And I am PISSED that I allowed myself to get sucked in to the whole stupid and unnecessary thing.

ARGHHHH UGHHHH ARGHHH.  Stupid men better just steer clear until I process through this utter STUPIDITY and get to the place of blissful relief that I finally just refused to deal with any of it and ended the whole stupid thing.

“F” is for (f#*& that)…fageddaboutit already

I recently read on another dater’s blog (http://simplysolo.wordpress.com/2010/08/16/five-dates-with-chef-recap/ ) about the annoying tendency of people (men) to jump to conclusions.  No one is exempt from this on occasion.  In fact, I may have been playing hop-scotch with conclusions just yesterday myself. However, over the past few years I’ve been privy to become acutely aware that it’s a basic thought process for some… and more interesting even is that said “some” are perfectly okay with any conclusions they’ve formulated, no matter how “off” they might be from the actual picture.

In my experience with this, I’ve found the shorter the jump, the closer to possible accuracy.  If we use a map of the U.S as our conclusion jumping mat, then let’s say if you jump from Nevada to California, you might not be completely off, but if your conclusions are more like jumping from New York straight to Arizona, you’ve most likely lost your way with your acrobatic and overzealous jumping.

I would love to list several rather amusing and/or frustrating examples I’ve faced with this over the past few years, but I fear that kind of detail might be just boring, so I’ll go with my most recent example.

Enter F…  F and I had emailed a few (maybe 2?  3 at most?) times and it was going along the line of any average starter-emails.  Nothing spectacular…nothing bedazzling, but still mildly worthy of a bit of my attention and polite responses.  Until I jump on to read my email and see I have one from him which has gone CLEAR from casual brief email chatting (we hadn’t even exchanged numbers or discussed it yet!) CLEAR into F sending me a short email simply saying, “meet me at such-n-such tonight at 6.”  WHAT???  Meet you??????  TONIGHT???  Wow..now that IS presumptuous!  Please put down the crack pipe Eager Eddie…you’ve clearly had enough…

Ummm…if I’ve not freely shared my number with you yet, it is so very NOT safe to assume, presume, and FLY all the way to “meet me at…”  Rome wasn’t built in a day pal, haven’t you heard? And unless you’ve access to being beamed up by Scotty, you’ve got a tad of travelling there to do just yet to get from point “E” for E-mail to point “M” for Meet-up….

I’m not exactly sure why I chose to even respond to this.  Typically, I’d have thought it best at that point to just ignore this one completely….ceasing all communication instantaneously.   However, I instead chose to write him a polite email saying I would not be able to meet him that evening and I offered up my phone number so we could discuss this and other get-to-know-you-E-to-M things prior to him making such further pompous and presumptuous invitations/demands with regard to me.

I received a call from Mr F. the next evening.  Ahhhh Mr. F, Mr. F., Mr. F…tsk…tsk…tsk…

Mr. F is the kind who makes a mere conversation challenging, frustrating, and borderline dangerous by his half-listening skills which lead him to make a jump like, say, jumping from Indiana over to Russia in one fell swoop!  These massive conclusions mean two things in a conversation:  1. You must watch everything you say very carefully in the conversation or you’ll spend over half the damned conversation explaining to dip-shit why and how he’s so off base that you don’t even really know how he came to that in the first place; which in itself is not only a ridiculously lengthy explanation, but just feels preposterous altogether because the dots do not even connect.  And 2.  Because of this, as well as the exhausting task of having to carefully analyze everything you even casually say within that lengthy and frustrating explanation itself, with this very explanation you’ve most likely only succeeded in providing  Mr. Country-to-country conclusion-jumper onto yet another miscalculated and totally off-base conclusion, as you were focusing on explaining his miscalculation in the one area, he has gone off in an entirely different one…  and is still totally lost in la-la land!

This, then carries the conversation back to step  1.  ….And thus, this futile exercise in explaining what shouldn’t have to be explained anyway has become the very sole substance of the conversation itself.  Not a very pleasant or coherent one, but it’s what you’ve got.  After only a few moments of this, if you’re anything like me, it begins to feel like a ludicrous elementary school game.  That piece of paper passed around in kindergarten which said, “How to keep a dummy busy” with an arrow instructing you to flip the paper over…and the same message on the other side…and on and on and so forth.

Far worse than the painfully grueling act of conversation itself here is when you add into the mix the person who stops listening as you’re explaining…because they’re so confident and practiced enough in their mass conclusion jumps that they really believe they’ve already got a good understanding of what you said, or meant to say, or were trying to say… Ugh…these people are exasperatingly impossible!

 Mr. F.  asks me what I do for work.  Innocent enough so far that without much thought, I just tell him.  I also throw in there that I’m hoping to get away from that field because it really felt unhealthy for me over time.  (I happen to have worked in an area of social work which leads the industry in burn-out rate.  I’ve been in it for 6 years, which is 2 years beyond the average rate for the typical “I hate my job” burn-out…)  And I confess I’ve been fighting against said burn out and feel it’s time for a career switch. 

F’s response to this is, “So you’re the pessimistic type”. 

WHAT?  This man clearly doesn’t even know the definition of job burn-out, as I’m not even sure how he got from A to W right there?  I say, No, I don’t think that’s an accurate assessment, but I do think when the case load and your effectiveness feel like you’d be far more effective just to macramé plant hangers all day to give to your clients,  then it’s probably time to do something else.

Well F has already made his assessment. And several times throughout our conversation, he alludes back to my “pessimistic” nature.  Seriously, I wasn’t even having a bad day!  My glass was two-thirds full during this conversation… a little spilled in the process perhaps, but I had my SHAM WOW! in close proximity and quietly and quickly wiped that right up as though it never happened.   Hell, I had rainbows and unicorns jumping around me even as we spoke. WTF?  I was done “explaining” after the first exercise in futility, but I did offer F one bonus attempt and after that, I had no interest in explaining any further.  This guy clearly is either just not that bright, is hearing or attention deficit impaired, or over time has just become ignorant by proxy of his chronic conclusion jumping. 

I don’t know why in spite of all of this mentally futile discourse, I still agreed to meet him for a drink on Wednesday night…maybe that’s merely yet another working example of my overly-optimistic nature?  Maybe this guy just isn’t good at phone conversations?  Had distractions running amok at the time?  Maybe my thick Russian accent threw his ability to hear and comprehend the words coming out of my mouth off into another direction? 

Wait.  I don’t have a Russian accent.  Okay, well maybe it was one of the other two possibilities then…  At any rate, I optimistically agreed to meet up.

…So, I’d be out-n-out lying if I tried to convince myself or anyone that I wasn’t beyond delighted to get a message the following day from a dear friend back home telling me he was in town on the very night of my planned date with F.  No.  I was truly ecstatic.  I not only was going to get to see my friend.  Yay!  But I had a legitimate and understandable excuse to cancel with F.  Of course, I didn’t feel like telling this to F via an actual conversation.  No, I opted to text it, with a brief explanation even!  Damn, I AM a considerate soul!

You know what? Mr. “Optimistic” F. didn’t even bother responding!  Not even an acknowledgement of my text itself. Well, well, well…this leads me to jump to two conclusions of my very own and I just don’t need any circumstantial conversation around to get to them either.  Mr F. obviously is horribly pessimistic and was making all kinds of further assumptions, conclusions, and massive country-jumps by my cancellation text or there would be no reason not to at least respond with an “ok”.  I get the distinct feeling he wasn’t “buying” my excuse, however coincidentally truthful and truly serendipitous it was…and it was both truthful AND serendipitous!

Perhaps the other possibility here is that F did not receive my text?  We had not texted at all prior…I merely assumed he texts…everyone texts…right?   Yeah, I admit I jumped from Rhode Island to Connecticut with that one.  Ahem…

So bye-bye Mr. F… toodley-do pal…hasta la vista, bayybeee… Happy conclusion jumping and conversation-torturing with the rest of the online daters out there!

Please assume that's me...

P.S.  Meet me at the bull fight in Mexico tomorrow night at 6…would ya? I’ll be the one waving the SHAM WOW! at the bull… ‘k…thanks…xoxo 😉

Wait a minute….is it pessimistic that I even own a SHAM WOW! ?!

Crazy-psycho-stalker…blah, blah, blah

Listen up people… 

This is truly a "crazy" person

Crazy: is not a scientific term, but a label of sorts often currently used to describe the severely mentally ill.  It is extremely subjective and actually has no definitive set of characteristics.  Crazy is (usually) in the eye of the beholder.  Which means that one person’s “crazy” is another person’s “OMG…that’s so adorably romantic” or “Hahahaha…that is hysterically funny”.

For example:  a guy (or girl…whatever) sends you a dozen roses every day for a week.  If you’re into this guy, that’s so sweet and charming.  If you’re not interested in him/her, you might consider it crazy.  Unless this person is absolutely and unquestionably aware that you have zero interest and never will be interested, then it’s not crazy.  And really, it’s not “crazy” even then, right?  I mean, this could be a man’s attempt at wooing you, in which case, kudos to him and sorry for his bad luck if you’re just not interested.  We should feel sorry for that poor, desperate schmuck trying so hard…   Meanwhile you’re probably the same person who wonders incessantly why there’s not “more romance in the world” (i.e: sweet gestures from the people in whom you are interested).

Psycho is a shortened version of psychotic, which indicates a person who suffers from clinical psychosis.  Psychosis is a serious mental illness defined as:

Psychosis: In the general sense, a mental illness that markedly interferes with a person’s capacity to meet life’s everyday demands. In a specific sense, it refers to a thought disorder in which reality testing is grossly impaired.  Symptoms can include seeing, hearing, smelling, or tasting things that are not there; paranoia; and delusional thoughts. Depending on the condition underlying the psychotic symptoms, symptoms may be constant or they may come and go. Psychosis can occur as a result of brain injury or disease, and is seen particularly in schizophrenia and bipolar disorders. Psychotic symptoms can occur as a result of drug use, but this is not true psychosis. Diagnosis is by observation and interview.  (http://www.medterms.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=5110)

So using my above example, a person who sends you roses every day for a week with notes saying such things as “had a great time last night baby” even though you didn’t see them or perhaps don’t even know them; then they quite possibly are truly “psycho”.

Stalker indicates a person who stalks, yes, actually STALKS another.

What it feels like to be "stalked"

Stalking:    Stalking is conservatively defined as “a course of conduct directed at a specific person that involves repeated (two or more occasions) visual or physical proximity, nonconsensual communication, or verbal, written, or implied threats, or a combination thereof, that would cause a reasonable person fear” (Tjaden and Thoennes,1998).  (http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/nij/topics/crime/stalking/welcome.htm)

 It is a legal term, not a general adjective to describe a person who inadvertently butt-dialed you twice in one day…or hell, even twice in 5 minutes for that matter!  Stalking is a serious crime.  General or randomly repeated unwanted attention from a person you’re not interested in dating is not stalking.  To fit the true sense of stalking, it must provoke a genuine and rational fear for one’s safety or to a lesser degree, perhaps make a person feel somewhat inhibited in conducting their normal day-to-day activities.  For example: I can’t go into that grocery store because a guy a went on one date with four years ago will believe I’m going in there to see him…and then send me a dozen roses every day for the following week, with attached notes saying things such as, had a great time with you in the grocery store yesterday…so glad you came by to see me… even though you ignored the guy completely.

Having worked in social work for so long, I’ve dealt with many cases of genuinely “crazy” people, people mentally ill and diagnosed with “psychosis” and a few, but rare, cases of actual “stalking”.

These are NOT adjectives to throw around in an attempt to describe your ex who called you crying because he/she was devastated that you ended the relationship.  They do not imply directly or otherwise to another person (at least not a rational, sane person) how “terrific” and “wanted” you are because someone went crazy-psycho-stalker on you. Guys:  EVERY ex you broke up with or whatever  is NOT “stalking” you…I promise!!  When you say that, you sound like a self-absorbed, drama king!   These are not terms to throw around in attempt to make others think you have an exciting life; to create drama where there really is none, because you’re bored with yourself or your life in general and the last major “happening” in your life was a solo drive through an Iowa corn field.  These phrases simply do not serve to make you appear irresistably attractive to the opposite sex.  They actually make you seem  melodramatic and of below-average intelligence.  Using these phrases and descriptions  in no way, implies that you’re such a sexual stud or much wanted Romeo that no girl can ever (or has ever) get over you or accept that you choose not to be in their life. No.  When I hear this (as I so often do..sigh)It actually causes me to wonder what the hell you did to that poor girl to make her get so “crazy”?  Hell, you must have been stalking her or something to get that kind of reaction!

Maybe I find the fact that these terms have become so common and so overly used obnoxious because I’ve dealt with the real thing, not some amplified, fabricated version to add some spice and excitement to a story or phrases used to try to impress on people how special and undeniably attractive and wanted you are to the opposite sex.

I’m so tired of hearing about people’s crazy-psycho ex’s or their stalkers.  Seriously, if this is true in even half of the accounts when I hear someone use these terms, then this is a far scarier world than any of us can even imagine. 

C'mon...let's learn some "big people" words!

No.  Get out your dusty old dictionary if you must, but please find some appropriate adjectives and verbs to describe your ex…..your last bad date…your annoying neighbor….whoever!  Overzealous, vehement, intense, volatile, moody, temperamental are a few fun examples.  Or just look up “unrequited” if it was merely a case of them being way more into you than you were them.

So really, unless you’re under the age of, say, twelve, let’s start using our big people words…or invest in a pocket dictionary to more adequately describe your ex’s or that horrible date you just didn’t really get “in to”… 

Overly dramatic disclaimer:  Unless of course, your life was threatened, you were physically kidnapped and held hostage, or Fluffy -your beloved pet rabbit- was boiled…then by all means, use crazy-psycho-stalker to your heart’s content!fatal attraction bunny Pictures, Images and Photos

..but seriously, if it was done with a stuffed animal, as a joke…now that’s just funny as hell!

Apparently I’m a (GASP!)…bigot!

The Big Yummy Apple

I wrote to Word-man first,  very shortly after I opened my profile.  He has a nerdy-attractive “look” in his pictures which is appealing to me. He mentioned word games on his page; I wrote him about my love for those kind of games, moving to his area, and thus, needing an adequate opponent.  We’ve been playing them online together ever since!  It’s terrific!  I’ve beat him 3 out of 4 games so far, but he does pose a terrific  challenge and it’s fun. 

After a few brief discussions via Internet games chat, he finally proposes we talk to explore if we’ve any other things in common.  I’m delighted!  I was just grateful to have a worthy and willing game opponent and after 4 games, I’d resigned to myself that he wasn’t interested in me in any kind of personal way.  This was a bummer being that I found him attractive and intellectually interesting as well, but again, I was enjoying our games.  Now, I was very much looking forward to talking with him!

This might be one of those shameful confessions here.  Not shameful like some of the incredibly fun and exciting sinful shenanigans I read from a few fabulous fellow bloggers here…no, nothing so juicy as that unfortunately. 

However, it seems I was being less than honest with myself when I wrote of my fairly limitless acceptance and minimal “dealbreakers”.  I apparently have another overly stringent one as well…  New York accents!

I don’t like this!!  New York fascinates me in concept!  I love its oh-so-ample theatre and plethora of cultures; its historical value is fascinating; positively adored hiking the Catskills and upstate in general; and I still think Seinfeld was one of the funniest shows ever! In fact, I’m certain I could go on and on ad nauseum about the many and wondrous redeeming qualities of New York in general and feel heartfelt appreciation for it all.  Hell, I could probably jump up this moment and give a painfully sincere, rendition of the Broadway song, New York, New York :

These vagabond shoooooooooooooooes…Are longing to strayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy… Right through the verrrrry heart of it… New York, New York….!

…If I can MAAAAAAAKE it there, I’ll make it AAAANNNNY where… It’s up to YOU… Newww York, Neeewwwwwww Yorrrrrrrrrrk!!

I won’t deny how excruciatingly painful that would be, were I to actually do it, but the point is, I’ve had a mad love affair with the theatre since I was a very young child and have been singing that very song since I was approximately the age of 3. So, I can do it…and I assure you with more heart and feeling than you can imagine.

Additionally to all of this ridiculous nonsense, I immensely enjoy language and all that encompasses, including various accents.  So, why do I find the NY accent so aesthetically unappealing and obnoxious?  And not only that, but all the way to the point of being instantly turned off at hearing it?  This is so ridiculous to even address with myself, but after my talk with Word-Man, I can’t remain in denial of my excessive and innate (?) discrimination!  The guy has been in Vegas for 14 years, so it’s not even a very acute accent…but it’s there…

And I just can’t take it… neither my own bizarrely disproportionate  intolerance of it(its literally akin to nails down a chalkboard for me – and no that’s not an exaggeration)… nor the accent itself!  Perhaps what adds mass weight to my overbearing annoyance stems more from having to face some ridiculously limiting quirk of mine which I simply can’t explain?  I truly find it intolerable…  And my very intolerance of it is even more intolerable than that!

I don’t judge people on their race, their education, their family tree, their hair color, their interests or hobbies, their culture, their past – none of it!  I EVEN grew up speaking with an obnoxious southern-like accent mahh-self, which I wasn’t even aware of until I moved during high school and was teased and criticized mercilessly for it.  I consequently, and much  to my  Mam-maw’s “You sound like a Damn Yankee!” dismay, worked hard to overcome that manner of speaking and I still get mildly self-conscious when on very rare occasions, a word or two of mine slips out with a noticeable hill-billy twang.  How could anything as ridiculous as an accent bother me to this extreme degree?  This is unacceptable discrimination!

Yet there it was, undeniably blazing in all its glory during my phone conversation with Word-Man.  After only a few minutes when I had noticed it enough to ask about it, I wanted to just end the conversation!  I’m not kidding – I wanted to.  Ugh!  I struggled to turn down this mild accent enough to even hear much of what he was saying!  To make things worse, he talked a lot…and the more he talked, the louder his accent seemed and the harder I had to work just to hear his words. 

This is not only unacceptable and deeply embarrassing, it’s just plain wrong.

 Overall the conversation (what I could hear of it anyway) went fairly well and we’re planning on meeting Thursday or Friday in person.  Can I do it?

Immediate update:  I think I’ve figured this anomaly out!  My aversion to this accent was created by Twizzler Man years ago…ahhh Twizzler man….tsk..tsk..tsk…you traumatized me to this horrifying extent.  Shame on you! 

WHISKEY. TANGO. FOXTROT??!!?

My FAVE yummy wine!

Okay…for all my healthy serenity-in-the-nude-solitude of the past day or so, I gotta say, it has run its course.   The excitement of flashing Jasper my shameless nudity no longer holds much entertainment value for me at the moment… This is a source of deep embarrassment for me; I’m a firm believer that only intellectually and/or creatively challenged people “get bored”. 

Thus, although I’m still home alone, I’ve donned a few articles of clothing (…ummm…yes…I can hear the collective GASP shivering through the universe at that shocking little tidbit of unorthodox deviance), poured a lovely, scrumptious and delightfully hefty glass of Seven Deadly Zins and I ponder the thoughts which have been running rampant through my mind today…

A fair representation of Octo-man

  1.  The gentleman in his 60’s (or early 70’s maybe???) whom I safely sat next to upon my first little visit to the neighborhood watering hole. ( I didn’t want to sit all alone and I really didn’t want to get hit on either…so ) Immediately after our polite introduction to one another, begins discussing with me how there are, in fact, people “our age” who come to this bar,  explains in graphic and unwanted detail the vast popularity of Jared the hot, young bartender, his “cougar following”, and all the many, many women who come here merely to see and flirt with said ”hot bartender”, Jared.

Ummm….W.T.F??  Firstly, I didn’t even know of Jared’s existence prior to this little jaunt.  And FYI pal, I resent being classified by you, a man clearly over 60,  as in “our age group”…I mean, yeah,  I realize my 20’s are getting fuzzy in the rear-view here, but  the man’s most likely somewhere in the vicinity of TWICE my freakin age!  Thus, you do not get to say to me such things as,  “people “our age”!  No. 

a true life-like depiction of Jared

I let this pass… but then when he jumped clear into the cougar talk…   I gotta tell you, I could hardly hear the man talking anymore.  Seriously… WHISKEY.  TANGO.  FOXTROT pal?!???  Have we come so far in this cougar-bit that a woman over the age of 30 can’t go into a bar by her house that happens to have a hot 20-something bartender, without being instantly and unjustly classified into the COUGAR category?!  And not only that, but implied by a pre-octogenarian at that??!!  Are you kiddin’ me?

WHISKEY. TANGO. FOXTROT!     I found this not only insulting at a high level, but terribly unjust and unwarranted as well.  Who the fuck do you think you ARE old man?  You’d better pump those squeaky old brakes of yours pal and simmer down.  Yeah, with your smooth verbal skills with the ladies, it’s not exactly clear to me why on earth you’re single?!? Ahhh..the mystery…

Meanwhile, I’ve got late 20-ish, early 30-ish drunken surfer dude who has camped out in the empty chair next to me, sliding his hand UP MY THIGH and leaning over to whisper, spitting  with his hot breath in my ear, “It’s so obvious how much you want me…  I’m like a tiger ya know; I can sense these attraction things from a mile away.”  OH MY GAWD….is this a bad movie?  Hidden camera prank?  WHAT is going on here?!

So while I was already busy pulling my insulted chin up off the floor from shock at Old Man’s Audacity-n-Confusion on my right, I had to take my soggy bar napkin and wipe the drunken-surfer-dude spittle off my left cheek.

you get the general idea here of drunk surfer dude

WHISKEY.  TANGO. FOXTROT.  Now I’m insulted AND disgusted.

To add insult to injury, it seemed Jared (yeah, HOT bartender is a very accurate description) was watching things and maybe feeling a little sorry for my plight…  So he asks me if I will do a shot with him.  Umm….with the utmost gratitude and pleasure, YES!, I will partake in an inappropriate amount of alcohol in a too short a period of time for my body to process, just to nurse my punctured ego-wounds and hopefully simultaneously cleanse myself of my OMG-so-unsanitary-spittle-on-my-face-disgust!  …Ummm…noooo Mr. Old Man,   I’m not quite ready to chuck myself across the bar at Jared in true Cougar-like fashion, but hell YEAH, I want a shot!  Red headed slut?  Lindsey Lohan?  Tequila?? I don’t care, I’ve money for a cab…just bring it!!!  And hurry!

…As Jared (the life and ego saving bartender/hero), the other 20-something bartender, and I are all raising our glasses to toast, I happened to glance briefly to my right…just in time to see Old Man Octogenarian giving me a knowing little wink, with a smug cat-that-swallowed-the-canary grin…  OMFG…

WHISKEY.  TANGO.  FOXTROT??!!