Tag Archives: rudeness

Homeless by design of the Rat Bastard

11.12.10

“I never want to see you again! If you know what’s good for me, you’ll leave me alone!” These are the words I screamed to someone who once was my hero. I thought he was caring, loving, considerate, and the best dad ever, but as he crumbles my heart with his bare hands, at the same time telling me that “it’s what’s best for me,” and causing tears of lies and betrayal to stain my face, realization finally sinks in; he is not my hero, but instead it’s the person who held me tight, stroking my hair, and telling me that everything was going to be alright, even though we both knew it wouldn’t be. Yes, my hero is indeed that person, and she happens to be my mom. I know, it sounds like a childish thing to say and that maybe by now I should have a more significant person to choose, but in my world, she is the most significant person who will ever walk into my life. (Written by LD for an 8th grade English assignment on “Who’s your hero?”)</em>

For three months we lived there. We trustingly packed every belonging we ever owned or cared about and moved 2,000 miles away from any friend or family member other than him. No, I didn’t have a job when we moved. Apparently, that wasn’t a huge issue to anyone except me…at least not in the beginning. Yet, moving into a very expensive rental house in a nice suburb of the city was beyond uncomfortable for me with no income at the onset. So, as the months passed and I wasn’t finding work, my patience for this situation grew as thin as a balloon stretched beyond its capacity, actually about to the point where if one might simply brush against the damned thing it would POP! Yeah…not a good scenario…

The first week of my daughters’ school, after dropping them off, I was rear-ended by another car. This shook me up, but I blew it off with some deep breathing and soaking in a hot bath for a few evenings afterward. The guy was honest, saying, “You know, I just wasn’t paying attention. I’m really sorry.” No worries, I said as I checked out the damage to my car. It was minimal, so I said, Hey, let’s just forget about it. The distracted, but kind gentleman responded, “Thank you! That’s very nice of you. I’m really sorry.”

Yeah, seriously, no worries…the car was still drivable and that’s what mattered most to me – that I had a car to drive my children to and from school in a still-strange city, and 30 miles back and forth to cheer practice five evenings a week, and a method by which to get to my job (once I found one). No big deal. Accidents happen. How many times have I driven along not paying any attention anyway? Ummm more than I want to admit! Have a great day and take care!

Prior, during, and after this rear-end episode, my ex was being beyond a douche bag. Insulting, belittling, and worst of all entirely apathetic to any of my concerns or worries about our daughters. My youngest was typically crying for at least an hour after every visit with dad. This was particularly bad on cheer practice days when he criticized her no matter how hard she was trying to learn a sport she had just started a few weeks after moving here; several years behind the other girls on the team whom he regularly “compared” her against publicly and privately.   I was so proud of her resolve. He would insult her and she’d come home, cry for a while and then the very next day she would say to me smiling big and confidently, “I’m so excited for cheer tonight Momma…I’m going to try even harder today so Daddy won’t have to yell at me.” This scenario was repeated regularly.

Meanwhile, “Daddy” was constantly reminding me how expensive cheer was for our two girls… and I do mean constantly. I was already losing sleep over even utilizing the standard utilities: saving electricity and gas like a monstrously concerned environmental-freak; afraid to use the pool, afraid to dry our clothes in the dryer, and conserving water like we were ship-wrecked bordering on death by dehydration… Sure, living in a big beautiful home was nice, but not really appropriate under my financial circumstances. I tried to let go of the resentment that we were living under this kind of stress in spite of the fact that the three of us had wanted to stay with the “Daddy” until I found a job and could afford to live independently with the children.

OH yeah and we didn’t live alone…there were the roaches. They made their presence known about a month after we moved in. I brought this up to the Daddy who laughed and called them the “702 bugs”; who also assured me he would talk to his “guy” to see if we could get a better monthly price for pest control than the several places I called for quotes. By the way, roaches really DO multiply faster than rabbits! Within two months of living there, they had taken over our “beautiful” home. My daughters were often too freaked out at bedtime to sleep and we had nightly episodes of them running to me fearful that roaches would crawl over them if they fell asleep. If you could have seen how badly they infested, you’d understand that this wasn’t necessarily an irrational fear of theirs. I slowly became more and more disgusted to even eat in this house, but finances surely didn’t allow us to eat out either. I never mentioned my eating fears to the children. After the third or fourth “rough” night we had with them terrified to go to sleep at night and crying hysterically over roaches EVERY where, I finally called the “’Daddy” again. Ahhhh….It was okay; he just hadn’t yet had time to phone his “guy”. He would, though.

I swear these damned bugs multiplied before our very eyes. This situation escalated at a rate that I could never have imagined in my worst creepy-crawly nightmares. They were in our toilets, our food pantry, our living room, our bathtubs, our patio, our furniture, our clothing… I cannot stress how horrible this became or how quickly it worsened. It broke my heart to feel so helpless to resolve this when it went from an occasional fear to a daily struggle and the only relief my children had was the occasional nights at their dad’s, which of course, was beautifully (and entirely) roach free. In my desperation and after numerous (the number for this is truly embarrassing) calls and texts to the ex; pleading with him to help, I began to imagine scenarios where I would phone all the pest control services and offer up sex in exchange for roach control. Putting aside any pride I might have ever had in me, I contemplated how one goes about offering that kind of thing without the possibility of getting arrested. No, I’m not kidding. These were the thoughts that began to consume my mind.

Sum this all up with the chronically terrifying financial fears of stressing literally every single solitary CENT, not finding any work, and the ugly manipulative insults and/or absolute disregard my children and I were learning was just to be a part of our new lives, now add a second random car accident. Sadly though, this one totaled my car.

This time, dude in an SUV makes a left turn on a two-way street (not at an intersection) right into the driver’s side of my car, as if my car was actually invisible! BAM! He slams directly into me, forming my car into a near 90-degree angle! The car was never to be drivable again. We were literally lucky to have survived the accident.

I had no one to call to drive us home from this accident…not a single soul within a 2,000 mile radius who might come to pick up my children and me…except the “Daddy”. After nine desperate phone calls, six frantic texts (not to mention how many the children must have sent) and over an hour of time passing sitting in a demolished car the “Daddy” finally texts, yes, TEXTS, “is everything ok?” Ummm….NO..it’s NOT… That would be why your children and your ex are blowing up your phone in the middle of the afternoon with calls and texts, you self-consumed idiot.

But yeah, he finally arrived.  I was hysterical at that point and more than a tad irritated at his nonchalance to our desperation. When I hinted at this, he was quick to remind me that I had no right; that I should just be grateful that he even came for us at all; after all, he’s a busy, important man who doesn’t have the time to be dealing with his ex’s little traumatic crises.

And right here is when the true, deep terror of our situation hit me fully. Under his designed choices  and reassurances surrounding our move here, along with my failed attempts to get a job and secure any income of my own, I WE were completely and totally under his tyrannical control and at his mercy, which I stupidly had been under before and that had not turned out pretty by any means.

So, by his grace alone, he drove us directly to a car rental place to rent a car for the duration of the insurance to take over (not my insurance, you silly goose….I had no insurance. I had had to let that lapse almost immediately after moving. The at-fault driver did have insurance thank God!). And now we add in the(up-front) cost of this rental car until the insurance company reimbursed him and the insurance on said rental car which provided me the means to drive my children around at our assumed daily frantic pace and the ability to continue looking for work… to the rest of the story, the stress, the mass discomfort, the verbal and emotional abuse we were enduring, the roaches, the crying bouts of my children over their dad’s chronic public put-downs and the fear of sleeping or eating at our own house.

The straw that broke the camel’s back though,  was when my 11 year-old mentioned that she liked Daddy’s girlfriend okay, but that since we hadn’t lived here for long yet, she really wished she could have some daddy-daughter time just once in a while. Given that this WAS the reason we moved here and this “girlfriend” was only a few weeks into the situation, I did not hesitate to reassure my daughter that it was okay to discuss her feelings and wishes about that with her father; that she had every right to request occasional “Daddy” time minus the girlfriend. I told her I was certain he would want to know that she felt that way, would very much care and would honor and respect her wishes, since they certainly were not at all unreasonable. And strangely, I really believed this. Never imagined it would even cause a hiccup.

Please bear in mind that “Daddy” told us on the way in from the airport at our arrival, how he had been crying in his office earlier that morning because he was so overwhelmed with happiness that his children would finally after all these years be close at hand, close enough to have a regular relationship with on a daily/weekly basis. He had cried so hard he needed a tissue, but didn’t have any and had even “had to” buzz his secretary to bring him some tissue. And secretary was just, “awwwwwww… it’s so beautiful how much you love your children…you must be the greatest dad ever!” I hate to demonstrate my inner cynic at this touching, Hallmark card episode, but I know this man’s theatrics and I was silently disgusted that he was clearly making such a dramatic show about our move. Anything to present himself as the hero-Dad! Anything to make the whole thing all about him…having little, to nothing, to actually do with his children or being a dad. I suppressed those past-influenced thoughts at his story and convinced myself he might have really been being genuine here…after all, he’d been a great dad for 10 years from 2,000 miles away…hadn’t he?

So I encouraged my child to discuss her feelings honestly with her dad, assuring her that he would not be angry and that I knew he would respect her feelings and make some of their limited time together just daddy-daughter time. I told her that I thought he would even feel extra special to know how much time having time with him really did mean to her.

No. Although she’s the overly criticized child, fearful of upsetting her father or disappointing him more than she already did daily by just being her own, wonderful but imperfect of course, self, she braved this conversation! And he didn’t even acknowledge that she had spoken. He ignored her completely although she knew for certain he had heard her speaking. She waited a few days and hesitantly mentioned it again, Daddy, I like (insert name of girlfriend here), but could we see you once in a while just the three of us? Maybe have an hour with you to ourselves? He responded with an adamant and vehement, I’m not breaking up with (insert name of girlfriend here) for you.

My daughter did not understand. She hadn’t asked him to “break up with his girlfriend” at all. She did understand, however, that her wishes not only would not be granted, but that her father had no interest whatsoever in her wishes.

Which, I do understand. After all what I’ve failed to mention here is that this wasn’t just any girlfriend in his long list of failed relationships, this was a rock stars’ ex-girlfriend! I mean, really, of course nurturing that relationship was to come before time with the little girl who gave up all her kindergarten friends, her happy roach-free home, her beloved school, all her other relatives, and her peaceful, happy-go-lucky mother! GOSH…there were priorities here people! Because having your dream job of big power, absolute financial security, an obnoxiously extravagant home, all of your childhood friends and relatives close at hand, you ex-wife under your total control, and (finally!) your two children too, could never be satisfying enough. You have not actually “arrived” in life until you have the ultimate ego-inflating status of dating a “rock stars’ ex-girlfriend”…and that delicate factor of this complicated equation must, without question or hesitation, then be put above all, since without that part of it, you’re still just not totally convinced that you are absolutely and unequivocally THE man.

You all understand, right?

Yeah, me too because here is where I snapped. And I mean snapped. Enough. No more attempting to reason with this man. No more making up flimsy-ass excuses for him that my children weren’t buying anyway. I merely shoved aside 10,000 roaches to sit on my formerly comfy (and sanitary)sofa, phoned up the ex and said, I think it’s best we go back home. This just doesn’t seem to be working out for anyone except you, on any acceptable level. To which he responded by screaming, I don’t care what you do! You have 30 and I repeat THIRTY days to get your ass back there or I’m renting out the Michigan house and I’m not helping you one bit to get back there either. And I’m canceling the rental car immediately so you’d better find a way to pay for a rental car on your own.

And here is what we did (had to do): we left everything we’ve ever owned, packed one small suitcase of clothing each and our cat, and used the insurance money from my totaled car to drive back to Michigan in order to save our home. Even my daughters with all their beautiful things and all our precious life-time mementos chose to give all that up to go home and live in our safe, peaceful house, in our safe peaceful small mid-western neighborhood far away from the “Daddy”.

We drove for three days, making it a fun family adventure. Laughing through our sadness and our fears, giggling as much as possible, and talking about how we still had all that really mattered in life: love, peace, respect, our beloved home, and each other. The rest was just stuff and stuff could be replaced…slowly in time, we’d get more furniture, ipods, televisions, computers, clothing, family pictures, etc, etc, etc… Good God, I have the most amazing children!!

And after three days on the road, we finally reached our destination…HOME, SWEET, SAFE, HOME… to discover another family had already moved into our house.

My next conversation with the ex went something like this (and this is obviously a mere excerpt):

Me: the roaches really were unbearable and disgusting and you didn’t care at all how horrifying and unsanitary that was for us.

Douche Bag: Ask me why I didn’t do anything about the roaches.

Me:(genuinely confused) What?

Douche Bag( a tad louder this time): Ask me why I didn’t do anything about the roaches!

Me: (now confused AND irritated at his tone) Ummm…huh?

Douche Bag( full-fledged yelling now): ASK ME WHY I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT THE ROACHES!!

Me: Umm…okay, why didn’t you do anything about the roaches?

Douche Bag: Well, you didn’t seem to mind living with them, so why would *I* care if you did?

Heavy footprints of love and hate

Always one or the other!

It’s love or hate for me…nothing in the middle it seems…

 Having way too much “alone time” this weekend shoves my brain into overdrive.  Wow…  life really has bad timing sometimes, doesn’t it?  There’s just nothing like feeling confused, hurt and kinda sad on a long holiday weekend in a new town, with no friends or family around!

…Reflecting on various things about me, my relationships, and the uncanny and random directions of life paths.

I really believe this!

Apparently I can’t leave well enough alone because I wrote to M apologizing for offending him (although I still really have no idea how I was offensive?!).  It was important to me to write this because I like to think I live a calm, peaceful existence and I have low tolerance for hurting others in any way.  I felt this email was kind and considerate and it would also alleviate my guilt at him feeling “really offended”.

So imagine my surprise when I jump on FB to copy, paste, and mail this email…….and discover M has DELETED me from his FB friends!!

WOW-ZA!  That’s harsh!  With consideration of the fact that he rarely facebooks (yeah, I’m using “Facebook” as a verb…hehe;-) )  I’m shocked that he not only took the time to do this, but also that he would do it at all.  Why?  Was there some fear I was going to get all crazy up on his FB page in public?  Stalk him via Facebook?  No seriously, why?  Why would someone do this? What purpose does this serve under the circumstances? 

Other than sending him one email on there last week, I don’t even utilize FB to communicate with him.  We never have actually, so any concerns that I might make a public fuss or do something stupid or irrational at all, much less on FB,  are surely unwarranted.  So WHY?

It’s silly and shouldn’t matter at all, but I have to confess, it really hurts my feelings.  It just seems mean and petty for the sole purpose of just being mean and petty.  WTF did *I* do that was bad enough or “crazy” enough to eliminate a social networking connection even”?

Apparently when M decides he wants to “just be friends”, then if you feel confused about that, you don’t get to even be a Facebook acquaintance/friend?

Why would he bother to go on a site he never uses anyway to delete me?  Why would this be necessary?  Why?  Why? Why??

Carrying an abundant load of the "Hate" ones here.....and it's heavy!

I wonder what it is about me that makes people love or hate me?  I’m a fairly easy-going person in general… In fact, I think I’m so mild-mannered and passive in general that I’m pretty boring on the surface!  Yet, I swear people either feel strongly about me in one direction or another or they just don’t feel anything at all.  There’s rarely anything in the middle for the people in my life, past or present.  I suppose I should like the fact that obviously I at least invoke feelings of passion in one way or another, right?  I don’t though.  I’m perfectly okay with middle-of-the-road thoughts and feelings and especially for FB friends!  Good GAWD, what kind of friendship “commitment” is FB anyway?  It isn’t. Well except maybe for “those” certain people who bug the living bejeezus out of you on there, but geesh, that’s not me!  I don’t harass people or stalk people or publicly post anything inappropriate.  GEESH…this really hurts my feelings.

I’m flabbergasted by this action and I’m reflecting so much on all the people in my life over the years that were madly in love with me (friends or otherwise) and then ended up just hating me when something happened like the friendship had issues, or we broke up, or whatever…  I can only feel that strongly about people who have hurt me terribly or people who harass me so I feel the need to protect myself from those things ever happening again. Then, I might need to delete a FB friend or hold onto strong feelings about that person out of fear or something. I see how this happens when you have a sordid history with a person and/or fears about that person.  I get that completely…

With all the extra time alone on my hands today, I’m deeply wondering exactly what is it about me that makes me so easy to love and even easier to hate it seems?

Wondering how I seem to inspire so much of this?

For such a peaceful, fun-loving, accepting, “do-gooder” person as I am (and seriously people, I am!!), I think it’s entirely possible at the end of my life that I’m going to have the longest list of haters ever… the kind of list that might be appropriate for political reasons or say, Adolf Hitler sized karma or something of that magnitude. 

GEESH, I don’t have a long list of “oops…probably shouldn’t have done that or said this or treated so-and-so like that”.  I would venture so far as to say the number of people I’ve even inadvertently hurt can be counted on one hand even.  I’m not perfect by far, but I’m extremely sensitive to hurting people or damaging anyone or anything.  I want to leave the lightest footprint in this world as possible, and not just environmentally, but emotionally too.  I love and accept most anyone and everything until that becomes a potential hazard or danger to my peace.  And even then I don’t go on a hate rampage or anything big and terrible; I just quietly keep away and stay away.  It’s of the utmost importance to me that the emotional footprint I leave on people and the world in general be heavy only in positive energies like kindness and love.  I have lived by that creed for as long as I can remember.

So how is this perpetual love/hate me (and mostly hate it seems right now) element even possible?  I don’t know and I don’t like it.  I shouldn’t care so much, I know, I know…  Screw ’em all anyway!  Ughhh…  But I do care.  It’s bothersome and hurtful to know I’m so hated by so many…for no reason

WTF?!

 Anyway, I apologize for this whiney, self-righteous, and probably trivial post.  I’m really struggling with this today!  All the negative energy this creates in my head and my life is not leaving just a gentle footprint on  ME!  Ugh…

…but I don’t wanna play Where’s Waldo!

S and I have emailed for several days… some really fun, flirty, nerdy emails.  Those are my favorite kind! I’ve been enjoying them and look forward to reading them each day.  Bonus: S’s photos looked nerdy in my kind of sexy-nerdy way!

I was super stoked when he invited me out to the lake yesterday!  I’ve wanted to go see it and explore since I first moved here…and here was a great opportunity to do so AND with a fun person too!  I felt a little worried after we talked though and he had a very nasally, overly-nerdy sound.  Well, it wasn’t so much the actual sound of his voice as much as it was his acutely lackluster conversation skills outside of email.  I shook that off as maybe just a phone thing (?)though.  And anyway,  I’m gifted at bringing people out of their shells and perfectly capable of stimulating conversation all on my own…

He arrived to pick me up.  He did look kinda like his pictures, except that his pictures seemed to display a different persona than he actually carried in person.  Not a big deal; he wasn’t totally appalling to look at.  So far the only real “issue” was that Mother Nature chose to hit me hard with cramps which could probably rate on a seismic scale if my body was a representation of the earth and its rumbling tectonic plates.  Ughh….  No worries though, on the way out the door, I quickly grabbed a few Motrin and knew I’d just have to wait for them to kick in…

Shortly after we’re driving along in his truck, he asked how I came to be in Vegas.  I start explaining:  My ex husband moved here a few years back for his work.  My daughters and he had such a rough time with this, it got more and more difficult each night to hear the nightly crying and…

INTERRUPT: What I want to know is if your ex wants to get back with you?

(Geesh…I thought you wanted to hear the short story version of why we came here…umm…I wasn’t rambling on or anything…) Oh.  Okay…umm..noooooo…that’s not why we’re here.

Okay, that’s all I wanted to know.

Ohhh..okay…

Conversation dwindles…so I start asking lots of specific questions.  How did you get to be here?  …What kind of job is it that brought you here?  So where did you grow up? Where is your family?  Are you close to them?  Are you a coffee drinker?  Ever been married…kids? What kind of music do you like most?

S proves to be the master at one-word and vague “dunno” question-answers, which certainly don’t further conversation at all.

Ummm???  Bakersfield?  ….Ummmm yes?  Hmmm….no? No..no…umm…I dunno?

Is it gospel? ...umm... So you like gospel music, right?

He gives this last answer as he switches the radio station to some sort of gospel.

…and I start to have little hesitations as to the length of time I’ve committed to with this first meeting.  I think of M’s brief meet-n greet-first rule and begin to think of it in a loving, regretful way.  Ohhh GAWD, why-oh-why didn’t I stick to that wonderful idea?  Am I going to have to pull teeth like this all.  DayLong?? ..AND that just to get yes/no AND indecisive answers?  OMG!

..that you? Forrest?

As I’m contemplating whether he is socially just inept or more along the lines of Forrest…Forrrrrressst Gummmmppp, to compound my hesitations and regrets here, as we are almost approaching the lake itself (maybe 15 – 20 minutes driving in the car at most), I am hit HARD  upside the head with the sleepy stick.    I mean, I’m not kidding here.  I suddenly feel like I’m on the way into surgery, just after the anesthesiologist has visited to intentionally knock you out, hard and heavy for the upcoming procedure.  Blurred voices that sound like, Okay Kay, start counting backward from 5 for me

That's me..only I was sitting in S's truck @ the time

Mmmmhmmmmm…ohhhhhkayyyy…Five…(my legs are getting heavy)…fffffffour (arms feel rubbery)…thhhhreeeeeee…(eyelids involuntarily drooping)…WTF? 

What is the matter with me?  Yeah, this guy’s a little boring so far and might be conversationally (socially?) handicapped, but its 11 o’clock in the morning for Pete’s sake!  I can sit through a two hour Catholic Mass after only an hour’s sleep and with a hangover and STILL stay awake better than

What I SO wanted to do....zzzzz

 this!  Hell, I can find watching paint dry interesting for more than 20 minutes if I set my mind to it…and this isn’t quite to that desperate point yet…  I mean, there IS conversation happening…

I’ve heard about his sister’s dairy intolerance and the substitutions his mother makes for holiday meals.  Hey, this is valuable information in case I ever become lactose or dairy intolerant!  I’ve heard about his parents’ six marriages between them and his religious upbringing… okay,  so he might answer my questions with vague dunno’s..but he gets to better explanations shortly thereafter all on his owneventually

No joke though…I can NOT keep my eyes open and I feel like someone slipped me some drugs.  I’m getting heavy and beyond lethargic.  WTF?

Hoover Dam

Ahhh..we’re at the Hoover Dam…finally.  I probably just need to walk around in the fresh air a bit to shake this uncanny sleepiness off…WHEW…just in time…

We walk around a bit.  Other than trying to hold my hand, this guy knows nothing about anything that I find interesting…but I’m working hard to keep thinking of more and different questions to ask.  I keep trying…

Hell, today I am in Webster’s as the very definition of inquisitive….what’s that thing do?  Am I standing in Arizona now?  You don’t know?  Okay.  Why do they block those sections off?  You don’t know?  Okay.  What are these elevators for?  Where do they go?  You “ummm..dunno…?”  Okay.

And the pictures…ahhhhhh geeesh the pictures!  I’ve never been here before and conversation is far from interesting, so in between coming up with 200 questions to try to stay awake, I’m snapping pictures with my cell of everything!

Okay…here’s a heads up for anyone who doesn’t know or suspect this yet.  I’m not shy.  I’m talkative, I’m effervescent.  Hell, I’m borderline giggly…  and if I want your picture, I will not hesitate to ask or just start taking them even…

So, when I’m taking pictures of historical monuments or constellations etched in marble on the platform, or the sculpture of the bridge worker guy, whatever…

Why is Waldo even IN this picture?

Do not…and I mean DO NOTjump in my picture! Don’t hang by the statue…don’t step into the marble constellation plaque…don’t lean over onto the bridge railing into the edges of my picture taking effort…

Seriously, I don’t know you and I don’t want a bunch of monumentally interesting pictures where I will later play Where’s Waldo? (aka:that one-uneventful-n-painful-date-I-dredged-myself-through-that-one-day).  Seriously guy, I’m making the best of this incredibly dull situation…  and it’s gonna be tough to crop you out of these pictures later in case I want to share them, frame them, or just look at them someday… C’MON…I don’t wanna have to ever explain you to people…k?  Please?

And here is when I realize in spite of my botched attempts at conversation and question-asking, beyond the fact that I seriously can.hardly.hold.my eyes.open…  S is digging me!  That’s hysterically funny to me in my borderline comatose state! 

He actually nudges my hand to hold it in spite of the fact that I kept my cell in my hand on the side closest to himat all times.  So we held hands over my cell phone….because I don’t know how to jerk my hand away from his knowing I’ve still got several hours with him to endure.  So, every time he’d grab my hand, I’d suddenly want another picture and yup, you guessed it…I needed that hand…  And yup, you guessed it…he’d lean into my picture!!

Waldo!?!  Get OUTTA there!  Can’t you see I need a picture of anthing at all errr… that part of the sidewalk?  Sure, it looks plain and ordinary to you and there’s hundreds more but that’s not the point!  It’s saving me from having to reject your hand OR hold it against my will.  This random picture taking thing?  This thing I’m doing here?  Incessantly?  Yeah… This, I do for you pal..so knock it off…k?

No.  S starts asking strangers to snap our picture with his camera!! Like we’re some adorable couple on vacation here.  People are all, “Awww..that’s a good one!  and “You two are so cute!”    S says, you’re good at posing…  I say yup…you have no clue…  Posers-r-me!

S was really a pretty nice guy but he seriously blew it off the bat by interrupting me telling a critical, and even somewhat interesting, story in my life and how my daughters and I came to be here.  That was just rude and socially inept and I was struggling to get past it…still.  If you can’t bring yourself to listen to a 45 second story that’s fairly critical to my life and the only reason we are even able to BE on a date on this day, then you’re already pretty much out.

Unless maybe you can do some tricks for me?  Huh?  What?  You “ummmm…dunno?”  Hmm..ok.  You’re out then.

I made the best of the day I could.  Thank GAWD the sights were interesting and I was able to take TONS of random photos to keep my hands busy…errr…of all that interesting stuff!

I just could not get over the initial interruption OR the fact that as academically smart as S seemed, he was just an idiot.  I’d swear if I’d asked him his favorite color, he wouldn’t have known the answer to that question either! Ummmm….I dunno?

Finally, we’re on our way home…yayyy!  And I just can’t fight this overwhelming fatigue anymore (really WTF is this?!)  I felt bad because I actually dozed off on the way home and it was only 5 PM…I just could not hold my eyes open!  Sure hope I didn’t snore or drool.  Woke back up as we were in my neighborhood and he’s asking when I’m next free.  I borrowed his repetitive line from the day and said, “Ummmm…dunno?”   I apologized for my lethargy and jumped out of his truck as fast as possible, given my dead-weight arms and legs…and groggy mental state.

The Tylenol hadn’t helped my Mother Nature issue much at all..so I ran straight to the medicine cabinet to grab a few more of those Motrins. And then I see what I had done.  NO FREAKIN’ WAY!!!!!

OMG!!

It was Motrin PM!!!  I had inadvertently taken two SLEEPING PILLS before I went on a date with one of the most boring persons I have ever met.  I swear my track record with OTC medication and dating is just un-freakin-believable!!

Ugh…the confused mind of a novice dater

Hmmm?

Last night was the movie with M night… I was so excited to see the movie and spend a little time with M. I actually thought considerably about my outfit, dressed nicely, fixed my hair, and put on make-up! I rarely think too much about these things, but I was really looking forward to the evening.

I had left my car at Caesar’s Palace Wednesday night because a friend from home was in town working there for the night as the crew for John Mellencamp. I did have a date scheduled (that’s another post though), but canceled that to hang out with my friend! I texted my date around ten that morning to let him know, but he didn’t bother responding… guess he wasn’t happy I canceled? Too bad for him. This is my first friend who’s been in town since I moved here and even if he’s only in town for 24 hours and is working for most of that, I’m not going to miss the chance to see him! We’ve been great friends for 15 years…I’m NOT missing the chance to spend even a little time with him! I partied and hung out with him, had a great time, drank far more than I typically do…oops…and did not drive myself home. So last night, I had to get ready early for my date with M and asked the ex to drive me to my car when he came to pick up the children. Bless his heart; he agreed to take me to it.

This was around 5 and I hadn’t heard from M yet which was unusual, but I wasn’t worried. We get to my car and I still haven’t heard a word from M! I’m beginning to feel a little strange because he typically contacts me earlier on to verify our plans and the time. This is date #4, so he’s definitely doing it differently this time and I’m just not sure what that’s about. Finally, I decide to text him and ask if we’re still on for the movies. Meanwhile, I agree to go to dinner with the ex and the kids. About an hour later, I finally receive a response text from M saying he’s tired, he “should have let me know earlier that he’s not up to the movies”.

Hmm… I’m not happy about this. I’m not “mad” per se, but definitely not happy. It feels inconsiderate. I just can’t help but wonder how we go from Monday’s out of the blue “Miss you” to Thursday’s “oops I forgot to let you know earlier that I’m not up to hanging out”? Not to mention, what are the odds that I actually took some time to get ready for this night and he barely bothers to even cancel? Seriously, that’s just truly coincidental… I look stunning and I’m only going to grace my ex and the kids with this? WTF?! I didn’t bother to respond until I got home a few hours later with my car. I don’t really know what to say to him. I’m mildly hung over from the previous night’s festivities, so actually, it’s not terrible in my world that he canceled, but I am annoyed that I had to initiate contact and he took his sweet time to even let me know. No, it’s not his fault that due to my partying, I’d had to get ready early enough to grab my car, but it does just irritate me that I did take this extra time and he didn’t make the effort to kinda clue me in on his own. I mean, did this just occur to him as he received my text and then it took an hour to decide for sure after that even? Hmm…

Yup..just a bit...

When I get home, I just respond “ok” and he then says, I’m just down lately. No other plans. Sorry again. Night. I’m not sure how to respond to this? I feel a little badly that I was so annoyed though. Geesh, I’ve had some rough days lately too and I’m not always as considerate or perhaps as “punctual” (not that I’m often punctual anyway!) in the midst of those kind of moments either. I text him back telling him I’m sorry he’s having a rough time, I hope things get better, and I was a little disappointed because I had been looking forward to seeing him, but that I understood. No response…but that’s okay. It’s not like we have a foundation yet to discuss every personal strife we experience. Hopefully things are okay with M and he was just having a rough day.

I appreciate his overall consideration of me by implying to me fairly specifically that it wasn’t another date/girl or anything like that. Kudos to him for that, but I have to admit; the moles did start popping up anyway… It’s just so freakin’ hard to date! He’s never been anything less to me than totally respectful and considerate, dependable and kind…

So, I started wondering/worrying about my FB status post Wednesday night …something about heading off to meet my friend at Caesar’s. Did M see it and get the wrong impression? He doesn’t hang out on FB much, so I’ve never worried about that. It’s not like we’ve had the “exclusive talk”. Hell, it’s not like my friend who was in town is (or would ever be) a “date” or potential romance; we are strictly friends. And hell, I can’t even know if any of that has anything to do with anything. I don’t know the depth (or lack thereof?) of M’s feelings or thoughts regarding me. Would he care even if he DID think I had a date? Would that matter? Now that I’ve had sex with him, would it instigate thoughts in his mind perhaps of me being trampy? Does that matter either? Or was it merely as he said, he’s just having a bit of a tough time lately? I hate this spot! I don’t want to push these topics by asking about them because I don’t really know how I even feel about them myself. So, I sure as hell don’t bring them up and don’t want to. However, I like to think I’m a considerate soul… And if this was the issue and/or causing some confusion or hesitation on M’s behalf, I’d like the chance to explain that it was a friend in town, not a romantic date planned…and would certainly be more considerate and cautious with my FB status postings. And if it’s just as he’s said and nothing more, then I don’t want to start throwing “explanations” his way either.  There’s such a fine line between basic consideration of another person’s feelings and inappropriate presumption in this dating stuff…ughh

Dating sucks!  The boundaries are all a big murky grey area. Even the level of respect and consideration to offer up or maintain is rather unclear…and the line between dating and “more” is just impossible to decipher. None of this would be rolling in my head though if I had kept the sex thing out of it.

Why does sex have to feel like it changes the already confusing and indeterminable rules of the whole dating thing? Does it really? Should it?  I am far from a professional or even experienced dater. I just don’t know these things. Ugh…

Stumbled across Mr. Favorite…

I did it!  I FINALLY met Mr. Favorite in person!!!!!  He lives a ways away from me, so we met last night half way at a cute casino called Red Rock, in their restaurant/lounge.  It’s the farthest away from home I’ve been on my own since moving here.

I was late…okay, punctuality is just not my forte…(perhaps I should claim that shortcoming of mine on my page and let the chips fall where they may?)  I know all the theory behind these less-than-timely types like me… yet,  I really just can’t buy into them when it comes to my particular affliction with this.  I am not selfish or self-centered (oh-so-far from it actually!), as in the world revolves around me – my time is more important than yours thinking.  No, that’s not it.  And it does not have anything to do with how much I like the person I have an appointment, date, whatever with or how much I do or don’t respect him or her.  In fact, this time-malady of mine almost leans toward getting worse the more I do like or respect a person.  So, I feel confident that’s not the issue.

(OVERLY DRAMATIC DISCLAIMER):  I was always this way…always.  I was born two months premature and I’ve never been on time since.  I think it’s a handicap of sorts really and it should be recognized as such to give those of us who suffer from this our due respect…  Instead of criticizing us, yelling at us, or accusing us of being self-centered egotistical types.  I just seem to have been born missing a full comprehension of time.  There’s a gap or mutated chromosome I believe in my brain’s concept of the time-space continuum.  It sucks.  I know.  As I get older, it’s more and more a source of anxiety for me.  I don’t want to be that girl!  Here’s an example:  When I started my last job six years ago, I was so paranoid and anxious about being late that I arrived at the office nearly a full hour early every day for the first six months straight, merely to counter-act any possibility that I might be late, I had to be this early.  Finally one morning, my boss asked me why I was so early every day and I told her straight up about my “punctuality issues and fears”.  She laughed at me and said they were a pretty flexible office and not to sweat it if I was a few minutes or so late on any given day.  Now I can’t try to claim that I was on time every day after she hit me with this wonderfully relieving piece of info, but I was sometimes

Anyway, Mr. Favorite…hmmmm….well, I did like him okay.  I’m a few minutes late and I called him to let him know.  He was pretty cool about it.  He looked just like his photos.  He was polite and seemed intelligent. You know what?   Let me just come out and say this as delicately as I can…

I fucked up the whole thing!!  …from start to finish, I was quite possibly the worst date in the history of dating.

 I was late.  I had taken an anxiety pill prior to driving because driving on the highways in this city scares me…and I’m too ashamed to admit that ridiculous fear I’ve formed to anyone.  I only took a tiny bit of one, but it did the trick. I was laid back, cool as a cucumber through this date. 

It started when I found his booth, saw that it was one of those gargantuous  booths, so I sat next to him instead of across from him.  He slid over and I got the sense that he was almost “backing away” from me in fear…I’m sure that’s not what it was…but something felt strange the way he moved away when I sat down, like a scared kitten hunkering down away from the big bad wolf or something…  Gosh, am i really that scary?!  I did ask  him aout his body language (curiosity was overwhelming me) and he admitted that he doesn’t get close to people easily…..ummm….okay…?

I didn’t want to eat and I got the distinct sense that he was hungry but too polite to eat without me or in front of me.  After two beers (which I shouldn’t have had while on an anxiety med), some good get-to-know-you conversation and declining food, he suggested we walk around the casino.  We walked to another little lounge that  had the cutest sitting area and tables made of marble-ish-like rocks which were lit up from the inside.  It was so cute!  He was saying he was tired so I suggested we have a Red Bull and vodka here.  He declined to drink anymore out of a respect for maintaining the ability to drive home safely (he’d had one more drink than I while waiting for Her Tardiness) and he didn’t want just a Red Bull either, claiming he’d be “up all night”.  So, I had one, spilled my purse as I was sitting down and my cigarettes (the ones I’m trying so hard NOT to smoke!) fell out of their pack and spilled everywhere…he collected these for me…bless his heart.

...gotta get this T-shirt to warn people...

Then I suddenly wanted a cigarette sooooo badly with my Red Bull and Raspberry vodka…and so I did indulge in such…ughh… (so very UNattractive!).  Had to go to the ladies room (thank you Red Bull for invigorating my bladder like you do!) and stumbled several times.  It was one of those things were you trip/stumble over nothing.  Nothing’s there, so it can’t be blamed on anything except drinking or clumsiness, which I’m at this point quite guilty of both.  So I stumble literally to the ladies room with him watching my smooth walking finesse and extraordinarily graceful abilities.  Get back, finish the drink I did not need, while he drank nothing, and then he’s going to walk me to my car….I stumble (WTF?!) like FIVE times while we do this!  No really, WTF was my problem??!!??  My brain didn’t feel this intoxicated!  So I can only imagine it was the combination of anxiety meds and three drinks… NOT a good one for me obviously. Are you kiddin me??  What in the HELL was wrong with my FEET??!!  There was NOTHING there for me to KEEP tripping on…  NOTHING….GEESH!!  I truly was not as drunk as I’m certain I appeared….no seriously, I almost wish I had this as an excuse even….Nope.  I have no clue what on earth was wrong with me…

He asked if I was okay….I was just embarrassed and truly, in my brain, I felt fine…clear as a bell even…  I guess it was just a massive and sudden attack of total clumsiness to the point that I just had no explanation and desperately just wanted to get in my car where I didn’t have to work so hard to get my damned feet to do their job in some semblance of freaking coordination—the same damned job they do EVERY day, usually without a hitchI could tell he was a little concerned and he made me promise to text the minute I got home.

He texted me as I was pulling in my garage 20 minutes later or so, asking if I’d made it home ok.  I texted back that I did.

Whoaaa…what an absolute effing train wreck of a hot mess I was!!  Poor guy is probably scarred for life at this clumsy-ass debacle I demonstrated last night!  GAWWWDDD…how just utterly embarrassing!  I’m quite certain I won’t be hearing from Mr. Favorite ever again…..

 
 
 
 
 

 

Mr. Pushy


I’ve broadened the age limit in my profile by about 10 years in either direction of my age because:
1: I haven’t dated an older man since I was in high school, so I know nothing about those creatures.
2. I’m hearing  a lot lately about how MILF’s are the coolest up-n-coming thing…  
3. And anyway, who am I to age discriminate?

…Get a few messages from a guy about 5 years older than I. His profile looks fun, he looks active, intelligent, and he’s attractive enough to warrant a brief second glance. Okay….let’s see what this guy’s about…

A few rather generic but acceptable, email exchanges and we exchange numbers. We have one nice conversation and then the way more modern (and typically much preferred by me, I might add)texting begins. This continues for a few days… The guy seems pretty cool! I’m considering a real live meet-n-greet….

Until….one morning I’m in the middle of talking to all the fun utilities (electric, gas Internet, water, etc) people…getting everything started and in my name as is necessary when one first moves. I dread this, but it must be done… I’m spending most of my time on hold and answering ridiculously mundane questions and such. While in this process ,which takes almost an hour total (again…ughh…), Mr. Guy sends a few texts. I don’t answer them because I’m in the middle of something, thinking I’ll just text back when it’s all over…

When I’m finished, I read the texts which came in while I was busy and I find that within a matter of 20 minutes of no return text, Mr. Guy has transitioned into Mr. Sarcastically Shitty Rude! Are you kidding me?! He’s bored at the DMV and must think I’m the newly assigned Bored-at-the-DMV Entertainer, as though I owe him texts at all, much less within the boundaries of his time expectations demands. WTF?

Annoying… And the meet-n-greet idea wagon starts to slowly rumble off into the hot desert horizon…

Trying to withhold judgment, I politely explain why I didn’t text back immediately. I mean, maybe he was just overly frustrated with waiting at the DMV…and who hasn’t been at some point? It doesn’t necessarily have to mean he’s a jerk… right?

Issue 2: At my ex’s with the kids, enjoying a little family time with his extended fam. Yes, we all get along well and I’m so delighted and grateful that we do.
Text from Mr. Guy…. I respond telling him I’m spending a little time with my ex in-laws. He immediately responds with, “ How ‘civilized’”. Gawwwddd…. Well… My! My! My! This guy just gets more charming with every interaction.  After I wiped the oozing sarcasm which was dripping bitterly off my phone in order to respond to His Loveliness, I declined to respond at all. It just seemed too inappropriate to warrant an acknowledgement.  Anyway, I was raised that if I had nothing nice to say, the correct thing is to say nothing at all.  And, nothing it was…

So, several factors here are making me question his personality a little at this point. One, he seems a bit like a real jackass self-consumed and even perhaps a bit of a douche-bag self-inflated…. NOT so much what I’m interested in at this point in my life…ughhh…. But I’m still trying to think of the good things and possibilities and refrain from judging him entirely on these.  After all, they’re just texts- the tone of “voice” can be so easily misinterpreted and such…

Issue 3: Mr. Guy texts me last night, wanting to meet for a drink. Umm….I’m not in the mood for that right at the moment so, I say I’ll think about it and get back to him soon…until I realize he means in like, 45 minutes!!! I text him back jokingly (well, sorta joking…) referring to him as Mr. Last-Minute-Invite…and he responds by asking me if I’m “not a spontaneous type girl “. Ummmm…excuse me?  Oh kind, charming, obviously well-bred, and oh-so-considerate dude, let me help you out with a little etiquette lesson:  There is a vast difference between being a “spontaneous-type girl” and responding affirmatively to meeting a guy you’ve never met before at a last-minute invite which came in around 5 pm on a Saturday night. He then texts that he’s “driving and can’t text”, asking if I would call him? I think, “Okay…you bet…sure thing pal…”  Quite honestly though, I’m smack dab in the middle of a fun, flirty, and interesting text exchange with Mr. McHotstuff right at this very same time, so I’m going to finish up my current text and then politely call my pal as he requested and discuss this last-minute invite business… However, before I can even finish typing my current text, I get another text from Mr. OMG-YOU-ARE-SO-FREAKIN-PUSHY-SARCASTIC-AND-OBNOXIOUS-NOW-guy which simply says, “Um..Guess not.”   Huh???!!! Hey Your Rudeness….It’s been (literally) less than 30 freakin’ seconds since you even asked me to call you!  My GAAWD….is this guy for REAL??   It becomes crystal clear to me why this man is single!  Seriously dude, WTF?!    YOU.      ARE.      AN.      IDIOT.

STRIKE THREEEEEEE!!!!!! Another one out. I will never communicate with Mr. Pushy Obnoxiously-Self-Centered-and-Inappropriately-Sarcastic guy again.  I was so pretty much over this whole exchange with you anyway, but  now….No way!  It’s so clear why you are single!

…and another one bites the dust…