Girlfriend's log:: Star Date 7-01042007
I've entered into what is becoming familiar territory, after 6 long months piloting this (relation)ship. It's the dreaded MAN PERIOD again... otherwise known as "Negative Nelly has come for a visit." It's not quite set to the lunar cycle, but it's close... by my calculations, it seems to occur every 4-5 weeks and lasts for 5-7 days.
I've been trying to survive for the past several days by laying low, being positive whenever possible (which is difficult, since Aunt Flow was visiting here, too) and only cursing him in private or behind his back. I find the one curse that works best for me is the one that involves me sobbing angrily and saying, "Why am I still dating this guy? There better be mind-blowing sex for me to continue putting up with this kind of cruel shit... I'm talking the mess you up in the head variety of sex, not this 'maybe once in a blue moon' shit that has been going on lately. Oh yeah, there's gonna be changes if I'm gonna stick with this a**."
Where was I? Ah, yes... the blue menace.
This time I almost predicted the events that would happen, yet because I've seen that damned video of The Secret I now have to think, "Stop that or you'll Secret that into your life!" It becomes that snake eating it's tail.
The week started badly from the previous weekend, in which he was too busy doing stuff he'd put off for work to spend any quality time hanging out... a procrastination thing that he pulls slightly more regularly than the man period, so it can't be blamed on the time of the month.
This brought on a conversation that I initiated in which I told him that we needed to make more of an effort to be intimate or we'll both become too complacent to bother with it anymore at all... followed by his admission that he would be totally okay with that, because he never thinks about sex.
Yes, I glanced at his gonadal region. They're still there. I'm just as confused as you are, trust me.
Then somehow the conversation turned to him getting a rabbit. I'm not sure who started that one, but he was full-on enthusiastic about bringing a bunny into his house for about 2 solid days, until he talked to his brother.
His older brother has a knack for fucking a lot of things up just by saying something off the cuff. He apparently precipitated D's cheating on and thus ending a relationship with a girl he loved back in his younger days just by asking him why he was wasting his artistic talents by working at a library instead of staying in art school. Suddenly, D was sleeping with some other chick, telling the girl he loved about it, and she, of course, had to end it. Next thing you know, D's back in art school, which ultimately lead him to impregnating and marrying a highly unstable S&M stripper chick, whom he's still trying to get out from under 13 years later.
This time, his brother was going on and on about how he's going to devote all of his time to his business, so that he can be successful and retire soon, and that he's going to forget about wasting his time dating. (This comes on the heels of his brother dating a woman for the first time in years and finally getting to have sex in eons, and her breaking up with him immediately after that... sounds like over-compensating to me. Time to buy a Corvette, maybe.) Then D said something about all he wanted to do at the end of the day was watch tv on his "42-inches of love," as he calls it. His brother acted all shocked by his recovered workaholic brother's response, the spent the next hour spewing stuff he'd read in "how to be successful" books.
The next day, Dean calls me to tell me that he's not getting the bunny (which was fine, albeit a confusing shift in tone) because it was just another distraction in a long line of distractions (implicating me in that list of "distractions"), when he should be concentrating all of his extra time into his career. In that same day, he'd received a box from his mother of all of his awards and bon mots from his dozen years in his chosen career, which apparently depressed him even more, because he'd been doing nothing towards getting more accolades since his marriage blew up.
D's been extra angry at his estranged wife, because not only did she cheat on him with another guy, but she apparently ruined his "plan" for early retirement... he thought he'd accumulate more awards and fame and be retired by 40. Instead, when the man period hits, all he whines on about is "I never expected to be 37 and having to start over," as if he is the first person to ever have to do such a thing.
I summoned all the powers of positivity that I could muster and said, "Wait, you're talking about Emmy's and awards and all this great stuff... and tons of people already know your name... sounds to me like you've reached your successful status earlier than 40. Maybe the breakup was just an earlier early retirement, making way for your second-life career shift." I even pulled the whole, "There's more than one measure of success, you know. And I don't care if your brother makes an assload of money before he's 50... if he had to do it by living in your parents' house and sacrificing any romantic life whatsoever, then he's a failure. I'm sorry, but it's the truth."
His tone changed a little, but he still was upset that he wasn't scoring more Emmy's... that he only had 2 (and 7 nominations), but of course his mom didn't send him the one Emmy statue that he has left. That's when I saw a pivotal life-lesson moment, and I asked him to tell me the details of what happened to the second Emmy statue. "Did it get smashed at the end?" (Then I told him that I'd forgotten the tale, but I hadn't.)
He proceeded to tell me that his wife had yelled at him "YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOUR WORK!" and to prove to her that his work didn't matter, he took one of his Emmys and smashed it. I think I asked if it helped him win the argument or prove anything, which he admitted it didn't. Later, in recapping that conversation, I tried to tell him that he was trying to make a case for how he had to be MORE successful in his work and to devote MORE time to it, yet it had obviously caused his personal life some serious harm... not that I was laying blame on him for the end, just that it was obviously a point of contention between them. He agreed entirely.
I then took the one day a week that he sets aside to train me and I told him, "I want you to use that whole day to work on your business stuff. If you devote one whole day a week, instead of piece-mealing hours here and there, I'm sure you'll see a big difference. We can do my training during 'girlfriend time,' I don't care." ("Girlfriend time" is anything off-the-clock, like the weekend, as opposed to "employee time" or "trainee time." He needs labels and I think he's going to start making me wear a hat and a name tag.)
Guess what happened? It went great, naturally. He was so caught up in his work, he finished everything he'd been putting off for the last year. I came over the next day and he was in such a refreshed mood that he had changed his mind again about getting a rabbit... then we spent the rest of the day picking out bunnies and getting supplies and playing with the furry things (he got 2, but had to return one the next day, because they were fighting).
Today, however, it all went sour when the bunny exchange went down. After the long drive back to the store, we walk in and tell them about the fighting and want to exchange this one for the calmer bunny that shared the cage with the other bunny he's keeping. Suddenly there's all this covert sideways glancing going on between the staff and we hear, "Uh, we don't have any rabbits in the store right now. They're on hold until after Easter, to prevent Easter buying."
"But we were just in here yesterday afternoon and we're not buying, we're exchanging. Can you see if he's in the back somewhere?"
The staff scatter for a moment and one finally comes back, shifting his weight back and forth and scratching his neck awkwardly, saying, "Nope, they've been shipped back to a central location. Store policy." It was all very alien-abduction like. The kid kept trying to make small talk and avoid eye contact, and I could tell he was lying... like they had the bunny in a crate in the back, like it was the Ark in Raiders.
D's positive buoyancy instantly deflated. He returned the troublesome bunny, and left the store empty-handed. I tried to pick him up with talk of going to other places to find another bunny. We drove for a couple of hours in dreary afternoon weather without any luck... 2 bunnies here, but they're already bonded... no bunnies there... a bunch of bunnies over there, but none are neutered and it seemed too shady. Dean grew more and more silent with each passing minute, as if I'd created the bunny troubles, or something.
At the last store, he finally stated, "That's it. I'm done with the rabbit stuff and returning the other one, too. I never wanted a rabbit in the first place. This is stupid."
It was easy for me to see that Dean doesn't handle delayed gratification or changes in plans well at all, and he over-reacts to think that everything is ruined or a bad idea. It's the same thing that my kids do... give up completely if something doesn't go how they imagined it would.
He spent the rest of the day completely silent towards me or just completely asleep, and by the time he woke up, the silent treatment was even worse... which seemed impossible, but there it was.
I finally asked if we could do our training time, and he acted like it was not at all what he wanted, but he did... only to then tell me that he couldn't train me on anything I showed him, because it was all garbage. It was about 20 minutes of that, then he walked away and started putting on things in the bathrooms.
I tried to see what I could do to fix things, but there wasn't anything I knew to do. I went to where he was watching television and finally asked him if he was okay. I'd been hoping all day that the mood would pass after food, or after a nap, or something... but it had only got worse. That's when he pulled the whole, "This isn't working for me," thing.
The "this isn't working" line started back in December, during our second trip to Florida. We'd gotten into a bit of a spat, then he went silent, and when I tried to get him to talk, he pulled the "this isn't working" thing... and about how he's not ready to be in a relationship. Mind you, he practically begged me to be in this relationship with him... and when he isn't having his man period, he talks about how I've helped him to get over his failed marriage and to grow in so many ways. But when it's raggy D, it's like Dr. Jekyll drank the potion... or when Bruce Banner says "you wouldn't like me when I'm angry," and then next thing he knows he's waking up in an alley and his clothes are all shredded.
I had to listen to him tell me how he can't train me, because he can't talk to me like he would talk to other people he'd train because of our dating... and that he can't date me, because he can't talk to me like someone he'd just date... and that he got the bunny to appease me somehow (which I was confused by, yet again)... and about how he has no interest in sex, etc.
Mind you, it's been over 2 weeks since... you know.
I then began my questions, trying to understand the deal... what caused this round of "this isn't working" when for weeks it seemed fine, much like the previous time, and the time before that. This is the first time I labeled it a "man period" and that's when he says that an old roommate of his used to called it exactly that, and how an old ex-girlfriend labeled him as manic depressive, because of this mood shift of his.
So I said to him, "If this has been you for basically your whole adult life, as you seem to be saying now, why are you labeling this moment with me as you not being ready for a relationship? Sounds like you're never ready for one, yet you keep getting into them. And I doubt you'll stop after you're done with me." He agreed, there was some slight lift in the mood at this point. Then I told him that I thought this was also coming on because he's scared about introducing his son to me next week, which will be the first time he's been allowed to see his son in 15 months. He agreed to that idea, as well.
Finally I asked, "So are you just throwing the baby out with the bath water?" To which he said, "Yes, I do tend to cut off my nose to spite my own face on a regular basis." Is this a good sign when you start communicating in metaphors alone? I'm not sure. Hell, I'm not even sure we were using the correct ones. He did seem to calm down quite a bit though, enough to finally come sit beside me at last.
I'm not sure if we're out of the woods yet. We probably won't be until he finally comes around and ...uh... comes around. Meanwhile, I'll just keep walking on these here egg shells.
It can and did happen! Tell-all blog about dating ... well, tell-most ... tell-some ... regardless, it's TMI.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
Friday, March 23, 2007
Curds and way too gross
D and I went to a cool little Japanese restaurant tonight that was extremely authentic. Everyone there spoke Japanese, the waitresses wore kimonos, and Japanese families were eating there as well (always a good sign).
The menu was a bit of a conundrum, however, as it contained a selection of many items that never make it to more Americanized sushi places. I spotted an appetizer that looked interesting -- fermenting soy beans -- and said that I wanted to order that. But Dean always wanting to push the order just one step further suggested that we get it combined with something else, as there were a few combos with this item. I agreed and he picked "sticky yams with fermenting soy beans."
Our first item combo -- assorted fish with cucumbers in vinegar sauce -- was delicious, as was the second standby: wakame (pickled seaweed). When the third item was placed in front of us, we both hesitated. Did we really order this? What is it? We could clearly see the pile of tiny brown beans in the center, but they were surrounded by this thick, white goo that was not at all yam-colored as we'd expected.
That's when Dean blurted out, "What the... is that spit?" I tried to shush him as I dipped my chopsticks in and attempted to grab a wad of the beans and slime. But as I pulled the goo towards my mouth, that's when the consistency really revealed itself... clear slime and cloudy white streamers, sticky and oozy, and looking strangely like... like... like...
"That looks like it came from my pee pee," D blurted out in a fit of giggles. (Yes, I'm dating a 5 year old.)
Again, I tried to shush him. Yes, I knew exactly what it looked like, and I was having a hard time trying to decide if I was supposed to put it in my mouth, pour it on my stomach, or give myself a facial... but I was trying not to think about any of that and praying that it would melt like buttery yams in my mouth.
I shoved the ejacu... I mean sticky yams and beans into my hesitant mouth and had to fight the instant gag wave that hit me. It was the best acting job I've ever done since... since... since the first time I had to do that same acting job. All I kept thinking while I tried to gulp down the yuck was, "Hold it together... wash it down with some tea... don't lose your cool, or Dean won't taste it."
After choking the junk down, I thanked him for ruining the experience for me with that comment and because of that, the whole bowl was his... I'd never be able to eat it with that reference floating in my mind (I failed to mention the taste).
The reaction I gave was a clear reference to a previous Asian-fusion restaurant experience in Lauderdale, where I ordered some sort of fish covered in orange sauce, to which D blurted out, "That looks like vomit," and promptly ended my ability to enjoy a single bite of the dish. Since he knew that I'd been using the "that looks like vomit" quote on him repeatedly as payback ever since, he also knew he would have to eat the current questionable slime or never hear the end of it.
He tried to reject the invitation to try his order, flattening himself against the wall of the booth and putting his hands up in an "oh no" gesture. "Oh, you'll eat it... you will eat it," I said... like some possessed dominatrix.
D timidly grappled with the slime, getting it onto his chopsticks, dropping it, picking some up again... all the while giggling like a nervous school girl. Finally, he shoved some into his mouth and held it for a fraction of a second before his expression changed to nausea and he let the sticky liquid fall from his mouth like a girl-gone-wild realizing her dignity was gone.
Then I was able to laugh at long last.
D was surprised that I managed to swallow the bunch I had. "Years and years of practice," I said with a wink... grossing myself out at the same time as I had to laugh. Then I admitted, "That was all acting, my friend... but the worst part were the chunks." At least I have a better understanding how something as vile as bukkake might have originated in Japan... start 'em young on the sticky yams and it's all downhill from there.
Our waitress came back to clear our appetizer dishes and noticed the mess we'd made of the one particular item. "You don't like," she inquired shyly? We laughed more and shook our heads in disgust. She then told us that she thought we were very experienced with Japanese menus when we ordered it, because no one ever orders that. You don't say.
Next time you're in an authentic Japanese restaurant, I dare you to order the sticky yams with or without the fermenting soy beans... and then try to put some in your mouth. Let me know if you spit or swallow... that's what separates the men from the girls (or queens, perhaps).
The menu was a bit of a conundrum, however, as it contained a selection of many items that never make it to more Americanized sushi places. I spotted an appetizer that looked interesting -- fermenting soy beans -- and said that I wanted to order that. But Dean always wanting to push the order just one step further suggested that we get it combined with something else, as there were a few combos with this item. I agreed and he picked "sticky yams with fermenting soy beans."
Our first item combo -- assorted fish with cucumbers in vinegar sauce -- was delicious, as was the second standby: wakame (pickled seaweed). When the third item was placed in front of us, we both hesitated. Did we really order this? What is it? We could clearly see the pile of tiny brown beans in the center, but they were surrounded by this thick, white goo that was not at all yam-colored as we'd expected.
That's when Dean blurted out, "What the... is that spit?" I tried to shush him as I dipped my chopsticks in and attempted to grab a wad of the beans and slime. But as I pulled the goo towards my mouth, that's when the consistency really revealed itself... clear slime and cloudy white streamers, sticky and oozy, and looking strangely like... like... like...
"That looks like it came from my pee pee," D blurted out in a fit of giggles. (Yes, I'm dating a 5 year old.)
Again, I tried to shush him. Yes, I knew exactly what it looked like, and I was having a hard time trying to decide if I was supposed to put it in my mouth, pour it on my stomach, or give myself a facial... but I was trying not to think about any of that and praying that it would melt like buttery yams in my mouth.
I shoved the ejacu... I mean sticky yams and beans into my hesitant mouth and had to fight the instant gag wave that hit me. It was the best acting job I've ever done since... since... since the first time I had to do that same acting job. All I kept thinking while I tried to gulp down the yuck was, "Hold it together... wash it down with some tea... don't lose your cool, or Dean won't taste it."
After choking the junk down, I thanked him for ruining the experience for me with that comment and because of that, the whole bowl was his... I'd never be able to eat it with that reference floating in my mind (I failed to mention the taste).
The reaction I gave was a clear reference to a previous Asian-fusion restaurant experience in Lauderdale, where I ordered some sort of fish covered in orange sauce, to which D blurted out, "That looks like vomit," and promptly ended my ability to enjoy a single bite of the dish. Since he knew that I'd been using the "that looks like vomit" quote on him repeatedly as payback ever since, he also knew he would have to eat the current questionable slime or never hear the end of it.
He tried to reject the invitation to try his order, flattening himself against the wall of the booth and putting his hands up in an "oh no" gesture. "Oh, you'll eat it... you will eat it," I said... like some possessed dominatrix.
D timidly grappled with the slime, getting it onto his chopsticks, dropping it, picking some up again... all the while giggling like a nervous school girl. Finally, he shoved some into his mouth and held it for a fraction of a second before his expression changed to nausea and he let the sticky liquid fall from his mouth like a girl-gone-wild realizing her dignity was gone.
Then I was able to laugh at long last.
D was surprised that I managed to swallow the bunch I had. "Years and years of practice," I said with a wink... grossing myself out at the same time as I had to laugh. Then I admitted, "That was all acting, my friend... but the worst part were the chunks." At least I have a better understanding how something as vile as bukkake might have originated in Japan... start 'em young on the sticky yams and it's all downhill from there.
Our waitress came back to clear our appetizer dishes and noticed the mess we'd made of the one particular item. "You don't like," she inquired shyly? We laughed more and shook our heads in disgust. She then told us that she thought we were very experienced with Japanese menus when we ordered it, because no one ever orders that. You don't say.
Next time you're in an authentic Japanese restaurant, I dare you to order the sticky yams with or without the fermenting soy beans... and then try to put some in your mouth. Let me know if you spit or swallow... that's what separates the men from the girls (or queens, perhaps).
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Patience, grasshopper
We could call this another example of "I couldn't make this shit up if I tried."
Since D and I started getting to know one another, there's been a little thorn in my paw in regards to one person... I'll be specific and let you pass judgment on me as simply jealous, before the tale unfolds. This person was a woman. Shocking, I know.
Anyway, when D became enamored with me (pretty much immediately, as I recall), he confided in me that he compared my correspondence with him to the correspondence he'd received from another woman he was interested in and whom he'd only had slight passing conversations with over the course of several months. He was blown away by how much he and I had in common and how fun and easy it was for us to talk; whereas the other girl's messages were short, few and far between, and left a lot to be desired in their quality.
What can I say. I give good email.
Aside from that, he added that he'd been attracted to her and hoping that he could have a fling with her before each of them left South Florida for other cities. He then told me that because of our emails and great chemistry, he was going to cancel a date that he'd made with her. I told him not to, because he hadn't met me yet, but he was certain that I was whom he was supposed to meet, not her.
Long story short, he ended up going on that date anyway (he called it a non-date, because it didn't end in a kiss, but we all know it was what it was) and then went out with her another time or two before leaving for Atlanta.
He also told her that she could come stay with him in his new apartment on her way from South Florida to Oregon, so she could have a place to crash... and they'd talked about how if it didn't work out for her out west, she'd likely be moving to Atlanta next.
Well, he came to Atlanta and he and after our first "non-date" together, he told me that he HAD to date me. We did have great chemistry, so I completely agreed... though we had to take things slow and work out the details of the boss/girlfriend relationship, since I was also agreeing to be his assistant in getting his business set up here.
Our first week together was totally grand, but at the end came the news... this girl was going to be coming to stay overnight with him. My stomach sank.
When he told me about this person, he never told me who she was, but I was able to figure it out based on how many comments she'd left him in his profile... they were in abundance and looked to be trying to rival mine. Naturally I was curious, so I checked out her profile and found that it smacked of the kind of person who is completely full of themself... and exactly the kind of girl that I try to avoid... the bitchy drama queen who just loves to meddle and stir the shitstorm in people's lives.
I had my best gal pal check out her profile, just trying to express my concerns over D's interest in her, and my pal pegged her right off as my complete opposite... she couldn't figure out why he'd be into someone like her at all if he was also into me.
It turns out that D's interest had been that she was exactly like his ex... and exactly like the girls he'd always been attracted to before his marriage: bitchy and off-balanced. It didn't hurt that she was hot as well, and his buddies were all encouraging him to "do her" for the sake of their vicarious fantasies. He claims he thought she'd be fine to hang out with for the brief time before he left Florida, but he did have enough sense about him to not want a relationship with this person. Still... he did tell her that was interested in her one day when he caught her twirling her hair in the way that drives him nuts... and I could see in his retelling of that tale that there was a definite attraction for him.
I didn't say anything about any of that, however, until he asked me one day if I had a problem with his roommate... another girl and also another former attraction of his from years back. I didn't have any problem with her, because I'd met her and the vibe that I felt from her was that she was a good person... down to earth and genuinely sweet. The South FL girl did not give me that impression at all... and without being able to meet her myself, it really left me feeling uncomfortable. So when he asked if I was uncomfortable with his choice of roomies, that's when I felt it was the right time to tell him who did make me uncomfortable... it also happened to be the day that South FL girl was coming to stay with him.
I was good-natured about it all... teasing that the girl had trouble written all over her and that she was coming up with all of her life's possessions in a U-Haul, uncertain of any real future out west, and to stay at an empty apartment with a guy who made a very decent living. Yeah, I totally could see her envisioning her shit in his empty apartment.
Luckily, because I'd said that to D, he laid clear ground with her that he was very happy with his new girlfriend and he made her get on her merry way, bright and early the next morning. He even said that after his roommate met the girl, she later told him that she thought she was bad news.
Now, if the girl had gone on her merry way to West Coast and disappeared into obscurity in D's life, I'd have been perfectly fine with those events... even though I know many a girl who'd NEVER stand for the overnight thing at all without staying there all night herself.
Unfortunately, the chick wouldn't stop calling D. First it was hours and hours of calling through her whole drive. Then it was weekly, sometimes multi-weekly calls to him, with conversations that lasted for hours. I didn't know about these calls until the day that D finally said, "Okay, I have to tell you this, because I feel guilty about even answering the phone now." When he said she was calling all the time to chat, I asked him to taper off the number of times he answered... answering fewer and fewer times until finally she found someone else to pester.
That didn't work, however, because D said he felt like a jerk not taking her calls. He also thought she was a good person who just thought he was a "great guy" who gave awesome advice and was dismayed that I wouldn't think of him that way. That wasn't true in the slightest. My gut was screaming something else.
I felt that he had an unnaturally strong interest in her (a girl he had nothing at all in common with and really didn't know well at all) due to his lusty attraction for her... and I felt that her interest was motivated by something else as well. Sure, she'd turned him down when he told her that he was interested, but I felt she was trying to keep a constant bridge to him as a back-up plan... if it didn't work out for her out West, she could come to him and have him help pick up the pieces. The sheer volume of her calls and the length of their conversations just wasn't right to me.
Little did I know, but just by me asking D to stop talking to her made him want to talk to her even more. He has an issue with being told what to do by anyone, so when I made that simple request for the sake of our blossoming relationship, he took it as me throwing down a gauntlet of sorts. In his mind, he set out to continue doing exactly as he wished and hoped that the end result would prove me wrong.
As the months went by, she'd call and I'd tell him that it bugged me that she was still calling, but there was really no big discussion needed. I'm a firm believer in not bottling and in stating one's issues. I'm also a firm believer in not making your partner feel uncomfortable ever. If someone makes a request that isn't outrageous (not telling you to get rid of long term friends or family, I mean), then there's no reason why you can't comply. If the relationship doesn't work out, you can always look up the abandoned friend and play catch up, no harm done. If the relationship does last, then it's worth respecting the other person's boundaries... again, within reasonable limits, of course.
Recently, I came to the conclusion that my best approach in this matter would be simply to stop focusing on how much her calls bugged me and start focusing on how she will show her true colors very soon. This wasn't verbalized to D... he had no clue that I was doing this. I did it silently and just refocused my thoughts, knowing that at the very least it would make my sense of humor about the situation much lighter... and at the best, she would show her colors very soon.
I've only been thinking this way for about two weeks now... and guess what happened today? Yep. The pro-active thinking paid off.
Today D was in a foul mood due to some court papers coming his way, so when South FL girl called him, he answered just so he could vent (so he says). Since he was venting, he also told her about my issue with her constant phone calls. Before I'd switched my thoughts over to thinking her away rather than talking her away, I'd said to him, "Do I need to email her and straighten this out?" He'd told me not to do that, so I didn't and instead waited to see how he'd deal with it himself.
Because he was in the mood to talk about everything on his mind today, he told her how I had a problem with his continued friendship with her and her constant phone calls. He claims he was testing her to find out if she did in fact like him more than a friend, or to see if she'd just say, "That's crazy. I have no interest in you." She did neither.
Instead she blew up into a rage over the whole thing and said she wanted to email me. He agreed to it, because of my earlier statement that I was going to do the same, but he warned her that it would be a test... if she said anything crazy, she was gone... or if she was sweet and calm, then he and I would be having words. He thought that she'd heed his advice.
He also "forgot" to any of this to me at all.
I had apparently called him moments after his talk with her and we began chatting about his court issues and whatnots, which made him forget about his conversation about her email. Suddenly, while on the phone with him, I see in my inbox a message from this chick and I interrupt our talk to say, "Uh, D. Why do I have a message from G here?" He said, "Oh yeah, about that... um..." and proceeded to tell me about their talk. He kept me from reading the message until he was done, then asked me to read it aloud. Here's the actual message:
Subject: So...
D just let me in on the little tiddy that he doesn't pic up some of my phone calls because you aren't comfortable with him speaking to me because he let it out long before you two got together that he had a slight interest in me.
Fact: He expressed his interest. I said we were better off friends.
Fact: We are amazing friends. And that's it.
Fact: I have a boyfriend, and wish nothing to do with your man.
Fact: I do not deserve to be involved with ANY of your insecurities.
Your getting all upset and quiet whenever he mentions my name is bullshit. His feeling that he can't speak to me because you get upset because of it is bullshit. I don't deserve to be shoved aside in one of MY friends lives because of some insecure girlfriend that can't get over one thought that is long gone.
I am his friend, and he is mine. You need to do everyone a favor and get over whatever your issue is. You have NO right or reason to be insecure when it comes to me.
I was shocked and dumbfounded, yet simultaneously relieved to finally have confirmation that the chick was indeed psycho. D was just sickened and beside himself. Not only was that message completely uncalled for and offensive, he'd just been proven wrong and owed me a big apology, which he immediately gave without me asking.
Now, if this girl had truly written to ease my discomfort and reassure me that not only did she want to retain D only as a friend, but expressed interest in befriending me as well, I would have been the one eating crow and handing out apologies. I'm a rational person and I tend to expect others to show the same courtesy... but my gut is something I've learned to listen to more and more with age. It's right 99.99% of the time, while my rational side tends to give people benefit of the doubt too often, which then causes me a lot of pain and heartache. I've been a stubborn over-thinker most of my life, but I've wisened and had to learn the hard way that intuition trumps reason.
Instead of befriending me, what she wrote was confrontational and full of accusations that were not only untrue and unhelpful in this situation, but also twisted D's own words to make her "point." Luckily, D was quick to realize his error and to see this person for what she clearly was: mean and downright ugly.
I chose not to respond to her at all. Why should I? I have my answer about her. Instead, D asked for me to forward the message to him so he could reply to her himself. Here's his solemn response:
G,
This is not what I meant when I said it was ok to email S.
This message is aggressive and hurtful.
We won't be talking again.
D
In the meantime, she'd called while we were on the phone discussing this fiasco and left him the sweetest of messages (before she'd gotten his reply, of course), to tell him that she'd emailed me. The dichotomy of her tone was baffling to him, especially when he got to read her final snippy reply to his reaction message:
D... This is EXACTLY everything that I said to you. The only thing I added was that I have a boyfriend, because you asked me to.
If you can't see that this is exactly what I said to you, and exactly what you OKed, then that's your problem. Have fun enabling the problem.
Wow. Mean, self-centered, and completely clueless. Does this sound high school-ish or what?
D is thoroughly nauseated by this experience now and completely humbled. He's apologized to me for his actions and how he'd gotten angry at me before for stating my gut feelings to him... and he knows that he'll never live this down. He really wanted me to be wrong. And if I had been wrong, I definitely would have apologized to both of them... I even second guessed myself repeatedly, but the gut never wavered. Now if anything like this ever comes up in the future and he disputes my gut reaction, my argument will always be one word: G.
Despite the pain of this experience for him, I, of course, find humor in it. Not "told ya so" or anything like that... just how over-the-top her email was to me. Way to ingratiate yourself to your "amazing" friend's significant other.
As an added footnote, she immediately took D out of her self-designed Myspace friends list and replaced him with someone else. He's not even on Myspace anymore --hasn't been almost 6 months-- yet she'd created a thumbnail for him and kept it linked to his professional page and had him listed in her top friends right next to her supposed "boyfriend." She sure didn't waste time getting rid of D though. And when he finally read her page in this new light, he was amazed at how he never noticed how into herself she was... not to mention the fact that she doesn't list having a boyfriend and the guy she's been going on about as her boyfriend doesn't even have her anywhere in his top friends and hasn't left a single comment to her, despite her overrunning his page with daily comments. Scary.
I added the conclusion that her career is as a faux finishing artist and that maybe she had a faux boyfriend as well... and seeing as how her friendship wasn't really what it seemed to D, it's not too far fetched that she's made up everything. (This comment didn't make D feel any better, of course, despite my finding the humor in it.)
I also found it amusing that she has the quote "The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, but wiser people are so full of doubts," by Bertrand Russell in her ABOUT ME section, then goes on to give a dissertation as long as this blog entry here about who she is, what she does for a living, and who she doesn't want in her life. Ah, unintentional irony... how I adore thee.
Is there a moral to this story? Trust your gut... and your friend's gut, too.
Since D and I started getting to know one another, there's been a little thorn in my paw in regards to one person... I'll be specific and let you pass judgment on me as simply jealous, before the tale unfolds. This person was a woman. Shocking, I know.
Anyway, when D became enamored with me (pretty much immediately, as I recall), he confided in me that he compared my correspondence with him to the correspondence he'd received from another woman he was interested in and whom he'd only had slight passing conversations with over the course of several months. He was blown away by how much he and I had in common and how fun and easy it was for us to talk; whereas the other girl's messages were short, few and far between, and left a lot to be desired in their quality.
What can I say. I give good email.
Aside from that, he added that he'd been attracted to her and hoping that he could have a fling with her before each of them left South Florida for other cities. He then told me that because of our emails and great chemistry, he was going to cancel a date that he'd made with her. I told him not to, because he hadn't met me yet, but he was certain that I was whom he was supposed to meet, not her.
Long story short, he ended up going on that date anyway (he called it a non-date, because it didn't end in a kiss, but we all know it was what it was) and then went out with her another time or two before leaving for Atlanta.
He also told her that she could come stay with him in his new apartment on her way from South Florida to Oregon, so she could have a place to crash... and they'd talked about how if it didn't work out for her out west, she'd likely be moving to Atlanta next.
Well, he came to Atlanta and he and after our first "non-date" together, he told me that he HAD to date me. We did have great chemistry, so I completely agreed... though we had to take things slow and work out the details of the boss/girlfriend relationship, since I was also agreeing to be his assistant in getting his business set up here.
Our first week together was totally grand, but at the end came the news... this girl was going to be coming to stay overnight with him. My stomach sank.
When he told me about this person, he never told me who she was, but I was able to figure it out based on how many comments she'd left him in his profile... they were in abundance and looked to be trying to rival mine. Naturally I was curious, so I checked out her profile and found that it smacked of the kind of person who is completely full of themself... and exactly the kind of girl that I try to avoid... the bitchy drama queen who just loves to meddle and stir the shitstorm in people's lives.
I had my best gal pal check out her profile, just trying to express my concerns over D's interest in her, and my pal pegged her right off as my complete opposite... she couldn't figure out why he'd be into someone like her at all if he was also into me.
It turns out that D's interest had been that she was exactly like his ex... and exactly like the girls he'd always been attracted to before his marriage: bitchy and off-balanced. It didn't hurt that she was hot as well, and his buddies were all encouraging him to "do her" for the sake of their vicarious fantasies. He claims he thought she'd be fine to hang out with for the brief time before he left Florida, but he did have enough sense about him to not want a relationship with this person. Still... he did tell her that was interested in her one day when he caught her twirling her hair in the way that drives him nuts... and I could see in his retelling of that tale that there was a definite attraction for him.
I didn't say anything about any of that, however, until he asked me one day if I had a problem with his roommate... another girl and also another former attraction of his from years back. I didn't have any problem with her, because I'd met her and the vibe that I felt from her was that she was a good person... down to earth and genuinely sweet. The South FL girl did not give me that impression at all... and without being able to meet her myself, it really left me feeling uncomfortable. So when he asked if I was uncomfortable with his choice of roomies, that's when I felt it was the right time to tell him who did make me uncomfortable... it also happened to be the day that South FL girl was coming to stay with him.
I was good-natured about it all... teasing that the girl had trouble written all over her and that she was coming up with all of her life's possessions in a U-Haul, uncertain of any real future out west, and to stay at an empty apartment with a guy who made a very decent living. Yeah, I totally could see her envisioning her shit in his empty apartment.
Luckily, because I'd said that to D, he laid clear ground with her that he was very happy with his new girlfriend and he made her get on her merry way, bright and early the next morning. He even said that after his roommate met the girl, she later told him that she thought she was bad news.
Now, if the girl had gone on her merry way to West Coast and disappeared into obscurity in D's life, I'd have been perfectly fine with those events... even though I know many a girl who'd NEVER stand for the overnight thing at all without staying there all night herself.
Unfortunately, the chick wouldn't stop calling D. First it was hours and hours of calling through her whole drive. Then it was weekly, sometimes multi-weekly calls to him, with conversations that lasted for hours. I didn't know about these calls until the day that D finally said, "Okay, I have to tell you this, because I feel guilty about even answering the phone now." When he said she was calling all the time to chat, I asked him to taper off the number of times he answered... answering fewer and fewer times until finally she found someone else to pester.
That didn't work, however, because D said he felt like a jerk not taking her calls. He also thought she was a good person who just thought he was a "great guy" who gave awesome advice and was dismayed that I wouldn't think of him that way. That wasn't true in the slightest. My gut was screaming something else.
I felt that he had an unnaturally strong interest in her (a girl he had nothing at all in common with and really didn't know well at all) due to his lusty attraction for her... and I felt that her interest was motivated by something else as well. Sure, she'd turned him down when he told her that he was interested, but I felt she was trying to keep a constant bridge to him as a back-up plan... if it didn't work out for her out West, she could come to him and have him help pick up the pieces. The sheer volume of her calls and the length of their conversations just wasn't right to me.
Little did I know, but just by me asking D to stop talking to her made him want to talk to her even more. He has an issue with being told what to do by anyone, so when I made that simple request for the sake of our blossoming relationship, he took it as me throwing down a gauntlet of sorts. In his mind, he set out to continue doing exactly as he wished and hoped that the end result would prove me wrong.
As the months went by, she'd call and I'd tell him that it bugged me that she was still calling, but there was really no big discussion needed. I'm a firm believer in not bottling and in stating one's issues. I'm also a firm believer in not making your partner feel uncomfortable ever. If someone makes a request that isn't outrageous (not telling you to get rid of long term friends or family, I mean), then there's no reason why you can't comply. If the relationship doesn't work out, you can always look up the abandoned friend and play catch up, no harm done. If the relationship does last, then it's worth respecting the other person's boundaries... again, within reasonable limits, of course.
Recently, I came to the conclusion that my best approach in this matter would be simply to stop focusing on how much her calls bugged me and start focusing on how she will show her true colors very soon. This wasn't verbalized to D... he had no clue that I was doing this. I did it silently and just refocused my thoughts, knowing that at the very least it would make my sense of humor about the situation much lighter... and at the best, she would show her colors very soon.
I've only been thinking this way for about two weeks now... and guess what happened today? Yep. The pro-active thinking paid off.
Today D was in a foul mood due to some court papers coming his way, so when South FL girl called him, he answered just so he could vent (so he says). Since he was venting, he also told her about my issue with her constant phone calls. Before I'd switched my thoughts over to thinking her away rather than talking her away, I'd said to him, "Do I need to email her and straighten this out?" He'd told me not to do that, so I didn't and instead waited to see how he'd deal with it himself.
Because he was in the mood to talk about everything on his mind today, he told her how I had a problem with his continued friendship with her and her constant phone calls. He claims he was testing her to find out if she did in fact like him more than a friend, or to see if she'd just say, "That's crazy. I have no interest in you." She did neither.
Instead she blew up into a rage over the whole thing and said she wanted to email me. He agreed to it, because of my earlier statement that I was going to do the same, but he warned her that it would be a test... if she said anything crazy, she was gone... or if she was sweet and calm, then he and I would be having words. He thought that she'd heed his advice.
He also "forgot" to any of this to me at all.
I had apparently called him moments after his talk with her and we began chatting about his court issues and whatnots, which made him forget about his conversation about her email. Suddenly, while on the phone with him, I see in my inbox a message from this chick and I interrupt our talk to say, "Uh, D. Why do I have a message from G here?" He said, "Oh yeah, about that... um..." and proceeded to tell me about their talk. He kept me from reading the message until he was done, then asked me to read it aloud. Here's the actual message:
Subject: So...
D just let me in on the little tiddy that he doesn't pic up some of my phone calls because you aren't comfortable with him speaking to me because he let it out long before you two got together that he had a slight interest in me.
Fact: He expressed his interest. I said we were better off friends.
Fact: We are amazing friends. And that's it.
Fact: I have a boyfriend, and wish nothing to do with your man.
Fact: I do not deserve to be involved with ANY of your insecurities.
Your getting all upset and quiet whenever he mentions my name is bullshit. His feeling that he can't speak to me because you get upset because of it is bullshit. I don't deserve to be shoved aside in one of MY friends lives because of some insecure girlfriend that can't get over one thought that is long gone.
I am his friend, and he is mine. You need to do everyone a favor and get over whatever your issue is. You have NO right or reason to be insecure when it comes to me.
I was shocked and dumbfounded, yet simultaneously relieved to finally have confirmation that the chick was indeed psycho. D was just sickened and beside himself. Not only was that message completely uncalled for and offensive, he'd just been proven wrong and owed me a big apology, which he immediately gave without me asking.
Now, if this girl had truly written to ease my discomfort and reassure me that not only did she want to retain D only as a friend, but expressed interest in befriending me as well, I would have been the one eating crow and handing out apologies. I'm a rational person and I tend to expect others to show the same courtesy... but my gut is something I've learned to listen to more and more with age. It's right 99.99% of the time, while my rational side tends to give people benefit of the doubt too often, which then causes me a lot of pain and heartache. I've been a stubborn over-thinker most of my life, but I've wisened and had to learn the hard way that intuition trumps reason.
Instead of befriending me, what she wrote was confrontational and full of accusations that were not only untrue and unhelpful in this situation, but also twisted D's own words to make her "point." Luckily, D was quick to realize his error and to see this person for what she clearly was: mean and downright ugly.
I chose not to respond to her at all. Why should I? I have my answer about her. Instead, D asked for me to forward the message to him so he could reply to her himself. Here's his solemn response:
G,
This is not what I meant when I said it was ok to email S.
This message is aggressive and hurtful.
We won't be talking again.
D
In the meantime, she'd called while we were on the phone discussing this fiasco and left him the sweetest of messages (before she'd gotten his reply, of course), to tell him that she'd emailed me. The dichotomy of her tone was baffling to him, especially when he got to read her final snippy reply to his reaction message:
D... This is EXACTLY everything that I said to you. The only thing I added was that I have a boyfriend, because you asked me to.
If you can't see that this is exactly what I said to you, and exactly what you OKed, then that's your problem. Have fun enabling the problem.
Wow. Mean, self-centered, and completely clueless. Does this sound high school-ish or what?
D is thoroughly nauseated by this experience now and completely humbled. He's apologized to me for his actions and how he'd gotten angry at me before for stating my gut feelings to him... and he knows that he'll never live this down. He really wanted me to be wrong. And if I had been wrong, I definitely would have apologized to both of them... I even second guessed myself repeatedly, but the gut never wavered. Now if anything like this ever comes up in the future and he disputes my gut reaction, my argument will always be one word: G.
Despite the pain of this experience for him, I, of course, find humor in it. Not "told ya so" or anything like that... just how over-the-top her email was to me. Way to ingratiate yourself to your "amazing" friend's significant other.
As an added footnote, she immediately took D out of her self-designed Myspace friends list and replaced him with someone else. He's not even on Myspace anymore --hasn't been almost 6 months-- yet she'd created a thumbnail for him and kept it linked to his professional page and had him listed in her top friends right next to her supposed "boyfriend." She sure didn't waste time getting rid of D though. And when he finally read her page in this new light, he was amazed at how he never noticed how into herself she was... not to mention the fact that she doesn't list having a boyfriend and the guy she's been going on about as her boyfriend doesn't even have her anywhere in his top friends and hasn't left a single comment to her, despite her overrunning his page with daily comments. Scary.
I added the conclusion that her career is as a faux finishing artist and that maybe she had a faux boyfriend as well... and seeing as how her friendship wasn't really what it seemed to D, it's not too far fetched that she's made up everything. (This comment didn't make D feel any better, of course, despite my finding the humor in it.)
I also found it amusing that she has the quote "The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, but wiser people are so full of doubts," by Bertrand Russell in her ABOUT ME section, then goes on to give a dissertation as long as this blog entry here about who she is, what she does for a living, and who she doesn't want in her life. Ah, unintentional irony... how I adore thee.
Is there a moral to this story? Trust your gut... and your friend's gut, too.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Oscar Fantasies
You know the little factoids that the Oscars announcer reads in regards to each winner? "Susanne Fishman spent 8 years studying the mating habits of naked mole rats to make SUBTERRANEAN ORGY BLUES." You know, those kind of things.
I briefly fantasized tonight that my film had won for something and as I walked to the stage from the nosebleed section, the announcer's factoid would have been, "Sherri Larsen spent two straight months holed up in her house, surviving on nothing more than bison summer sausage, eggs, and Diet Coke to make her film. The ensuing diarrhea is also how she lost the weight to fit into her Oscar gown." (Insert cut to Brittany Murphy and Calista Flockhart clapping furiously and nodding to one another.)
Then I imagined that the instant popularity would bring me an offer to be the new Trim Spa spokesmodel, what with Anna Nicole's recent dirt nap.
---ADDENDUM---
I have to add this, because I'd forgotten it earlier, when Celine Dion (whose name also forms the words Satan Incarnate, I think) had stared directly into the camera and instantly reached into my soul and the pure, blood-chilling fear that it gave me blotted out any memories I may have had about show moments previous to her appearance.
My thoughts on the McDonald's commercial during the awards show:
During the first set of commercials, this curious thing comes on, with all these kids of different nationalities in their native countries, running around and yelling in their native languages, until you get to a kid that speaks English, and he's like "Dad's making dinner," or some shit like that, then it flashes to a scene with a father putting two bags of McDonald's on the kitchen table.
I was watching that and my mind raced forward to a better last shot... there's dad, tired, sweaty, zombie-like in his depressed state... flipping the burgers at McDonald's... and there are the kids waiving to him from the counter, bragging about how they get all the free fries they want ever since dad's job got outsourced to India. Then they cut to the Indian dad, bringing home McDonald's to his kids.
That works for me on so many levels.
Maybe I'm just evil.
I briefly fantasized tonight that my film had won for something and as I walked to the stage from the nosebleed section, the announcer's factoid would have been, "Sherri Larsen spent two straight months holed up in her house, surviving on nothing more than bison summer sausage, eggs, and Diet Coke to make her film. The ensuing diarrhea is also how she lost the weight to fit into her Oscar gown." (Insert cut to Brittany Murphy and Calista Flockhart clapping furiously and nodding to one another.)
Then I imagined that the instant popularity would bring me an offer to be the new Trim Spa spokesmodel, what with Anna Nicole's recent dirt nap.
---ADDENDUM---
I have to add this, because I'd forgotten it earlier, when Celine Dion (whose name also forms the words Satan Incarnate, I think) had stared directly into the camera and instantly reached into my soul and the pure, blood-chilling fear that it gave me blotted out any memories I may have had about show moments previous to her appearance.
My thoughts on the McDonald's commercial during the awards show:
During the first set of commercials, this curious thing comes on, with all these kids of different nationalities in their native countries, running around and yelling in their native languages, until you get to a kid that speaks English, and he's like "Dad's making dinner," or some shit like that, then it flashes to a scene with a father putting two bags of McDonald's on the kitchen table.
I was watching that and my mind raced forward to a better last shot... there's dad, tired, sweaty, zombie-like in his depressed state... flipping the burgers at McDonald's... and there are the kids waiving to him from the counter, bragging about how they get all the free fries they want ever since dad's job got outsourced to India. Then they cut to the Indian dad, bringing home McDonald's to his kids.
That works for me on so many levels.
Maybe I'm just evil.
Monday, February 19, 2007
These aren't the droids you're looking for either.
100 Q's
1. PICK OUT A SCAR YOU HAVE, AND EXPLAIN HOW YOU GOT IT?
There's a great big one on my heart and it seems that the scab gets picked at from time to time, making me cry. I got it in... a... um... great. Now I'm crying again. Thanks a lot!
2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?
Um, paint? A window and a couple of doors? Who cares.
3. WHAT DOES YOUR MOBILE PHONE LOOK LIKE?
It looks kind of like a phone, without a cord, that can go places with me.
4. WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
The kind that I like.
5. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT DESKTOP PICTURE?
A ladybug... I need all the good luck I can get these days.
6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
These kinds of questions are for wishes, and if I tell you that, then it won't happen, will it. What I really want is for life to stop disappointing me so much, but that's not gonna happen... so I guess I'll set my expectations lower, like... I really, really really want an eclair. Mmm-boy.
7. WHAT DO YOU MISS?
Eclairs.
8. WHAT TIME WERE YOU BORN?
Don't know. I wasn't wearing a watch.
10. WHAT ENDED YOUR LAST RELATIONSHIP?
You're picking at scars again. Here come the tears. Shit.
11. DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK?
Sometimes, but not in movie theaters.
12. THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
The writer of this survey... and... and... and... *sob*
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOGNE / PERFUME?
I don't wear that kind of junk. Generally, it's a lotion that's lightly scented.
14. WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOR DO YOU LIKE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Brown/brown, though that's just a minor preference that I've always been willing to ignore, if the person's personality or charms beguiled me somehow.
16. COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINKS?
Coffee.
17. FAVE PIZZA TOPPINGS?
Pepperoni.
18. IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
See questions 6 and 7.
19. WHO IS THE LAST PERSON YOU MADE MAD?
There we go with the tears and I had just gotten that under control.
20. DO YOU SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE?
Ywhay, esyay, ofay oursecay.
21. WHAT WAS THE FIRST GIFT SOMEONE EVER GAVE YOU?
Who can remember that?
22. DO YOU LIKE SOMEONE?
I like a lot of someones.
23. ARE YOU DOUBLE JOINTED?
Whatever.
25. WHAT'S YOUR DREAM CAR?
A flying one.
27. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF MARRIAGE?
Gays should have a right to be just as miserable as the rest of us.
28. WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
*sniffle*
29. WHAT IS THE BEST WAY TO TELL SOMEONE HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO YOU?
I'm not good at that... my attempts at being subtle often go unnoticed, and anything grander often passes as offensive.
30. SAY A NUMBER FROM ONE TO A HUNDRED:
You suck.
31. BLONDES OR BRUNETTES?
For what?
32. WHAT IS THE ONE NUMBER YOU CALL MOST OFTEN?
My mother, probably... wait, no, that's the number that shows up on my phone the most, but it's usually her calling me... a dozen times per day.
33. WHAT ANNOYS YOU MOST?
Being misunderstood. And that I'm still answering these questions.
34. HAVE YOU BEEN OUT OF THE US?
Sure, I've been out of the us, in the us, near the us, confused by an us, and pined for an us.
35. YOUR WEAKNESSES?
Eclairs. Penises... hmm... which just happen to be somewhat eclair-shaped... Hooray! I've finally found the connection!
36. FAVORITE COLOR?
I'm pretty unbiased.
37. FIRST JOB?
First, let me take my mind out of the gutter. There, okay. Dog walking after school, which I'd love to have that kind of fun work again.
38. EVER DONE A PRANK CALL?
Duh. When I was a teen. Hasn't everyone?
39.WHAT WERE YOU DOING BEFORE FILLING THIS OUT?
Looking at movie times for this weekend.
41. HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BEEN IN LOVE?
Great. Now I'm crying again. Fucking sadist.
42. WHAT DO YOU GET COMPLIMENTED ABOUT MOST?
Daydreaming.
43. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF WEED BECAME LEGAL?
Um, nothing at all.
46.WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
Apparently, cheerleaders... my parents were young and just wanted a name that sounded like a good cheerleader name. Five Sherris in my high school, guess which one wasn't a cheerleader?
47. DO YOU WISH ON STARS?
I wish I'd never seen that Britney Spears crotch thing... does that count?
48. WHICH FINGER[S] IS YOUR FAVORITE?
You expect me to say my middle one, don't you. Well, no. I like my thumbs, I guess.
49. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY?
Thanks a lot, Barbara Walters. There go the waterworks again.
50. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Still trying to make me cry, huh?
52. ANY BAD HABITS?
Daydreaming, eclairs, penises, filling out surveys.
53. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASSING CD?
Now why would I tell you that?
54. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Yeah, I'm pretty funny... and I can keep a secret.
55. HAVE YOU EVER TOLD A SECRET YOU SWORE NOT TO TELL?
What did I just say?
56. DO LOOKS MATTER?
Yes. Wait, what are we talking about?
57. HOW DO YOU RELEASE YOUR ANGER?
You're trying to make me cry again and it's not going to work.
58. WHERE IS YOUR SECOND HOME?
Home is where the heart is... and I've heard that your second home is where your dick is, or something like that.
59. DO YOU TRUST OTHERS EASILY?
Not a damn bit.
60. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD?
Star Wars action figures and a spotted, stuffed dog named Jingles.
61. HOW MANY NUMBERS ARE IN YOUR CELL PHONE?
I have no freaking clue.
62. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Me? Never!
63. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE WORD?
The f-word, apparently... and the word "apparently".
64. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A MOSH PIT?
I try to avoid such foolery.
65. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL?
A sense of humor... a penis... a steady supply of eclairs...
66. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES?
She, the She-Creature... I don't really take well to nicknames.
67. WHAT IS THE MOST PAIN YOU HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED?
Oh, here come the damn tears!
68. ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE MEMORIES?
Too many to list... most of them are related to films or animals, very rarely are they related to people.
69. LAST THING YOU SPILLED?
My heart out... never gets me anywhere though.
71. WHAT'S THE LAST FURRY THING YOU TOUCHED?
My legs. Damn, I need to shave.
73. WHO ARE YOUR FAVORITE SINGERS?
Tom Waits. Bar none.
74. HOW MANY WISDOM TEETH DO YOU HAVE?
Zero, and not because they were pulled, but because I was born without them. So just think, I'm more highly evolved that the rest of you chimps!
75. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
Fuck no. I don't have the time or the inclination to read them.
76. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Sunday - Xiu Xiu Larsen
77. LAST THING YOU ATE?
Leftover chicken and some green tea.
78. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
Leila.
79. WHAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
A sense of humor... a penis... a supply of eclairs (or lack thereof).
80. FAVORITE THOUGHT PROVOKING SONG?
I don't know.
81. FAVORITE THING TO HATE?
It's quickly becoming this survey.
82. FAVORITE DRINK?
Green tea.
83.ZODIAC SIGN?
Sagittarius, fucker.
84. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SPORT?
Sports are icky.
85. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOR?
Right now it's red.
86. EYE COLOR?
Last I checked, they were still green.
88. SIBLINGS?
2 half-sisters.
89. FAVORITE MONTH?
April showers bring May flowers. What do May flowers bring?
90. DO YOU LIKE SUSHI?
Yes.
91. LAST THING YOU WATCHED?
Robot Chicken, Season 1 on dvd.
92. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
Boxing Day.
93. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT?
Not really. Why, you know something I don't know?
94. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Spring.
96. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE NIGHT STANDS?
This answer depends on the partner in question.
97.WHO IS THE MOST LIKELY TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
Doesn't matter... and my advice is don't do it.
98. WHO IS LEAST LIKELY TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
Who cares.
99.WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
That there will be 100 more questions when I scroll down.
100. IS ANYONE IN LOVE WITH YOU?
No... er, yes... er, uh, no... um, I mean... fuck if I know! Great, now I'm crying again!
1. PICK OUT A SCAR YOU HAVE, AND EXPLAIN HOW YOU GOT IT?
There's a great big one on my heart and it seems that the scab gets picked at from time to time, making me cry. I got it in... a... um... great. Now I'm crying again. Thanks a lot!
2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?
Um, paint? A window and a couple of doors? Who cares.
3. WHAT DOES YOUR MOBILE PHONE LOOK LIKE?
It looks kind of like a phone, without a cord, that can go places with me.
4. WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
The kind that I like.
5. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT DESKTOP PICTURE?
A ladybug... I need all the good luck I can get these days.
6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
These kinds of questions are for wishes, and if I tell you that, then it won't happen, will it. What I really want is for life to stop disappointing me so much, but that's not gonna happen... so I guess I'll set my expectations lower, like... I really, really really want an eclair. Mmm-boy.
7. WHAT DO YOU MISS?
Eclairs.
8. WHAT TIME WERE YOU BORN?
Don't know. I wasn't wearing a watch.
10. WHAT ENDED YOUR LAST RELATIONSHIP?
You're picking at scars again. Here come the tears. Shit.
11. DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK?
Sometimes, but not in movie theaters.
12. THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
The writer of this survey... and... and... and... *sob*
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOGNE / PERFUME?
I don't wear that kind of junk. Generally, it's a lotion that's lightly scented.
14. WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOR DO YOU LIKE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Brown/brown, though that's just a minor preference that I've always been willing to ignore, if the person's personality or charms beguiled me somehow.
16. COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINKS?
Coffee.
17. FAVE PIZZA TOPPINGS?
Pepperoni.
18. IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
See questions 6 and 7.
19. WHO IS THE LAST PERSON YOU MADE MAD?
There we go with the tears and I had just gotten that under control.
20. DO YOU SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE?
Ywhay, esyay, ofay oursecay.
21. WHAT WAS THE FIRST GIFT SOMEONE EVER GAVE YOU?
Who can remember that?
22. DO YOU LIKE SOMEONE?
I like a lot of someones.
23. ARE YOU DOUBLE JOINTED?
Whatever.
25. WHAT'S YOUR DREAM CAR?
A flying one.
27. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF MARRIAGE?
Gays should have a right to be just as miserable as the rest of us.
28. WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
*sniffle*
29. WHAT IS THE BEST WAY TO TELL SOMEONE HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO YOU?
I'm not good at that... my attempts at being subtle often go unnoticed, and anything grander often passes as offensive.
30. SAY A NUMBER FROM ONE TO A HUNDRED:
You suck.
31. BLONDES OR BRUNETTES?
For what?
32. WHAT IS THE ONE NUMBER YOU CALL MOST OFTEN?
My mother, probably... wait, no, that's the number that shows up on my phone the most, but it's usually her calling me... a dozen times per day.
33. WHAT ANNOYS YOU MOST?
Being misunderstood. And that I'm still answering these questions.
34. HAVE YOU BEEN OUT OF THE US?
Sure, I've been out of the us, in the us, near the us, confused by an us, and pined for an us.
35. YOUR WEAKNESSES?
Eclairs. Penises... hmm... which just happen to be somewhat eclair-shaped... Hooray! I've finally found the connection!
36. FAVORITE COLOR?
I'm pretty unbiased.
37. FIRST JOB?
First, let me take my mind out of the gutter. There, okay. Dog walking after school, which I'd love to have that kind of fun work again.
38. EVER DONE A PRANK CALL?
Duh. When I was a teen. Hasn't everyone?
39.WHAT WERE YOU DOING BEFORE FILLING THIS OUT?
Looking at movie times for this weekend.
41. HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BEEN IN LOVE?
Great. Now I'm crying again. Fucking sadist.
42. WHAT DO YOU GET COMPLIMENTED ABOUT MOST?
Daydreaming.
43. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF WEED BECAME LEGAL?
Um, nothing at all.
46.WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
Apparently, cheerleaders... my parents were young and just wanted a name that sounded like a good cheerleader name. Five Sherris in my high school, guess which one wasn't a cheerleader?
47. DO YOU WISH ON STARS?
I wish I'd never seen that Britney Spears crotch thing... does that count?
48. WHICH FINGER[S] IS YOUR FAVORITE?
You expect me to say my middle one, don't you. Well, no. I like my thumbs, I guess.
49. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY?
Thanks a lot, Barbara Walters. There go the waterworks again.
50. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Still trying to make me cry, huh?
52. ANY BAD HABITS?
Daydreaming, eclairs, penises, filling out surveys.
53. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASSING CD?
Now why would I tell you that?
54. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Yeah, I'm pretty funny... and I can keep a secret.
55. HAVE YOU EVER TOLD A SECRET YOU SWORE NOT TO TELL?
What did I just say?
56. DO LOOKS MATTER?
Yes. Wait, what are we talking about?
57. HOW DO YOU RELEASE YOUR ANGER?
You're trying to make me cry again and it's not going to work.
58. WHERE IS YOUR SECOND HOME?
Home is where the heart is... and I've heard that your second home is where your dick is, or something like that.
59. DO YOU TRUST OTHERS EASILY?
Not a damn bit.
60. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD?
Star Wars action figures and a spotted, stuffed dog named Jingles.
61. HOW MANY NUMBERS ARE IN YOUR CELL PHONE?
I have no freaking clue.
62. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Me? Never!
63. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE WORD?
The f-word, apparently... and the word "apparently".
64. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A MOSH PIT?
I try to avoid such foolery.
65. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL?
A sense of humor... a penis... a steady supply of eclairs...
66. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES?
She, the She-Creature... I don't really take well to nicknames.
67. WHAT IS THE MOST PAIN YOU HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED?
Oh, here come the damn tears!
68. ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE MEMORIES?
Too many to list... most of them are related to films or animals, very rarely are they related to people.
69. LAST THING YOU SPILLED?
My heart out... never gets me anywhere though.
71. WHAT'S THE LAST FURRY THING YOU TOUCHED?
My legs. Damn, I need to shave.
73. WHO ARE YOUR FAVORITE SINGERS?
Tom Waits. Bar none.
74. HOW MANY WISDOM TEETH DO YOU HAVE?
Zero, and not because they were pulled, but because I was born without them. So just think, I'm more highly evolved that the rest of you chimps!
75. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
Fuck no. I don't have the time or the inclination to read them.
76. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Sunday - Xiu Xiu Larsen
77. LAST THING YOU ATE?
Leftover chicken and some green tea.
78. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
Leila.
79. WHAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
A sense of humor... a penis... a supply of eclairs (or lack thereof).
80. FAVORITE THOUGHT PROVOKING SONG?
I don't know.
81. FAVORITE THING TO HATE?
It's quickly becoming this survey.
82. FAVORITE DRINK?
Green tea.
83.ZODIAC SIGN?
Sagittarius, fucker.
84. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SPORT?
Sports are icky.
85. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOR?
Right now it's red.
86. EYE COLOR?
Last I checked, they were still green.
88. SIBLINGS?
2 half-sisters.
89. FAVORITE MONTH?
April showers bring May flowers. What do May flowers bring?
90. DO YOU LIKE SUSHI?
Yes.
91. LAST THING YOU WATCHED?
Robot Chicken, Season 1 on dvd.
92. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
Boxing Day.
93. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT?
Not really. Why, you know something I don't know?
94. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Spring.
96. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE NIGHT STANDS?
This answer depends on the partner in question.
97.WHO IS THE MOST LIKELY TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
Doesn't matter... and my advice is don't do it.
98. WHO IS LEAST LIKELY TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
Who cares.
99.WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
That there will be 100 more questions when I scroll down.
100. IS ANYONE IN LOVE WITH YOU?
No... er, yes... er, uh, no... um, I mean... fuck if I know! Great, now I'm crying again!
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Dirty Laundry
Two years ago, I went through a relationship that at the time seemed to be showing me something that I'd desired, and ended up giving me an experience that I'd never forget, try as I might. It was a brief 7-week fling with a man who was on his way to divorce... or so he told me at the time. I went into the experience knowing full well that separations and divorces are messy times, but I chose to believe him when he told me about how he truly needed someone in his life then and that his marriage was truly over.
I used the experience to write out things that had been locking in my psyche for many years, to go into emotions and experiences that I rarely spoke of, much less wrote to anyone... and I tried on the experience to see if it would help me to release old hurts. Little did I know that it put me in a position that I never wished to be --as "the other woman"-- and would leave me with an understanding of love versus obsession that still haunts me today. The main thing that I learned was that love comes to you freely and is returned just as freely, while obsession is the opposite... nothing is free, everything is conditional and everything is managed and controlled. My own marriage had been based mostly in the latter, so seeing it in another couple was enlightening. In addition, feeling free to give whatever I had for no other reason than it was there, that was something that I celebrated even in the end. And in the end, I chose to teach as much as I learned... walking away from someone I held dear, because I deserved better... and because he needed a lesson in letting go.
The other thing that the relationship taught me was that writing was a great way to find meaning in moments that would otherwise be forgotten. Two years later and when I re-read those blog entries, I'm grateful that I have them... not to remember the relationship or to dwell in the past, but to remind me that there are lessons and signs everywhere we look. It's also a great portal into the past for me... because the person I am today isn't the person I was then... but much more than that. It's walking along the beach and turning to look back at your footprints to see how far you've come.
Many of you who read those entries back then wrote to me wanting more of the story... what was going on behind the scenes. I told some of you privately, and I added tiny bits publicly in the comments, but very few knew the whole sordid story.
Until now.
It's been long enough that the major players in that drama have moved on in their lives and shouldn't be concerned if I were to share the details now (keeping everyone anonymous still, of course). If you wish to re-read the entries, I'm including links to them here... you'll be here a while, as I'm as long-winded in those entries as I am right now... but I guarantee it's worth the trip. I'm still quite impressed by some of the profound thoughts that I spelled out there, if I do say so myself.
Under each link, I'm including a synopsis of the behind-the-scenes stuff as I can recall them.
January 05, 2005 - I'VE BEEN GIVEN REASON
Notes from the She-Creature:
The details that are missing are as follows: The Brit (or S, as I also referred to him) had just moved out of his house after trying for several months to live under the same roof with his wife of 16 years (K, as I'll refer to her), who was carrying on an affair with a former student of hers (she taught Advanced English to high school Seniors)... a boy who'd been her student just a couple of years earlier, whom she'd stayed in touch with as his "mentor" and who was at the tender age of 21 at the time. He'd learned of their affair after having his suspicions and hacking into her Hotmail account as well as stumbling upon printed out emails that she'd been saving in a little lockbox. K wanted S to stay under the same roof and allow her to continue to see the boy, so that she could have a live-in babysitter for their two boys (ages 11 and 3)... she even guaranteed that he'd be allowed to date someone as well, just as long as she hand-picked the girl, which she did.
Of course, she never allowed S to follow through with his affair with her friend, because once they stopped sharing their correspondence with K, K got angry and hurt that she was being left out. Yes, it was a sick and twisted scenario. After several months of K's continued transgressions and S trying to stay positive for the kids' sake, even helping her pick out clothes for her dates, S finally blew up one day and that's when K told him that he'd have to find his own place. He moved out at Xmas and I met him the day after New Years... so this all went down fairly quickly.
In our first week together, I continually asked S if he was getting divorced, because his constant tears were a sign that he was not on that path at all... he should have been angry, rather than depressed. He reassured me that there was no going back to that woman, and all I could do was take him at his word... or let him go and not get involved. I fell for the lost puppy dog eyes and for the sincerity that seemed to pour off of him... but I'll admit that I was too close to see the whole picture. What I did see was a mirror into who I was back in 1999 and it was empathy due to my own experience... how I'd wished not to be alone back then... that kept me with S after I met him.
January 12, 2005 - LIFE IS NOT A DRESS REHEARSAL
Notes from the She-Creature:
Pass judgment on me if you must, but I did choose to sleep with a man who was not only still married, but only very recently separated... all of which comes with a lot of baggage. I felt more than capable of carrying some of that baggage, at least for a while. I felt that there was a lesson for me in it... good or bad... and I needed to follow it through for it to be revealed. The beginnings of that new light were being seen in this passage.
January 19, 2005 - LESSONS FROM CRUEL SHOES
Notes from the She-Creature:
I'd continued to learn more and more about S and K's relationship. Apparently, S met K through S's brother M. M was dating his now wife at the time and K had obviously developed a crush on him. Because M was taken, he and his girlfriend thought that K would like S... so they invited S to the States for a visit. S didn't fall instantly. Instead, he met K and saw a pushy, rude, control freak of a woman who seemed a bit unbalanced and too willing to go-off on someone with a hair-trigger switch. When he returned to England, K began writing to him, telling him about how beautiful their kids would look, how great it would be if they were married and could spend time together with M and his girlfriend, raise their kids together, take vacations all around the world together, and grow old together. S fell for this kind of flattery immediately, and within a few months, he was back in the States for good (or for worse). They were married a few months later.
That was only the beginning of the trip to crazytown. K's crush on S's brother didn't stop after she and S married. Instead, it only grew more intense and she eventually wooed M into bed with her... an affair that lasted the first 3 years of their marriage... S+K and M's marriage as well... all behind their spouses' backs. It wasn't until both S and M had their first children and were all on at trip to a local museum when the secret was revealed. K kept following M all around the museum, pleading with M over something with tears in her eyes... S could see them from a distance, but never heard what the conversation was about... though he could tell that his wife was distressed and that his brother was trying to get away from her. When they got in the car, K turned to S and told him about her long affair with his brother, blaming M for the whole thing, of course.
Naturally, this put a rift in the brothers' relationship with one another. S chose to believe K's story, because he had a child with her and wanted to keep his son in his life. Behind the scenes, K continued to harass M, driving him out of the state to find solace in the mountains somewhere. When I stepped into the picture all those year later, I wanted to get to the bottom of this story and help repair S and M's relationship (ha! I said "S and M"), so I wrote to M... that's when I learned just how evil and undermining and manipulative S's wife was.
January 24, 2005 - FULL OF FIRSTS
Notes from the She-Creature:
After I'd gotten S in contact with his brother again, and after we both helped to remove the blinders he'd been wearing regarding K's manipulation tactics, he seemed like a rejuvenated man. He even began writing love letters to me and I asked if it was okay if I published one in my blog. He agreed, though he was hesitant.
Whenever we went out, I couldn't help but notice that he seemed like he was trying to avoid being seen by anyone. This put a lot of doubt in my head about his intentions, but I just kept telling myself that it was my own distrust in people that was seeing things. I'd told him when we first started dating that he needed to tell K that he was seeing someone, but he said she'd explode and he was afraid of her anger. I told him that if he didn't do that, when she did find out it would be far worse, but he didn't budge. So I then told him that he would need to make sure that she had no way to peer into his private life... change his billing address on his cell phone, make sure his online accounts didn't have passwords that she knew, etc. He told me that he'd take care of all of that, but apparently he didn't.
Instead, he'd tell me about his moments of being with K when they'd exchange the kids... how she'd try to put the moves on him and he'd rebuff her... how she'd try to bring up emotional topics that would bring him to tears so she could comfort him. He didn't seem to want to listen when I told him that he needed to seriously put some space between them or he'd be getting spun like a yo-yo forever... that this was his time to set the pattern for the future. He claimed he'd take my comments into advisement, but that he knew what he was doing. I would tell him, I would listen, but beyond that there was nothing I could do. But as you'll read in the next entry, thing continued to be difficult.
January 27, 2005 - BREAD AND SOUP
Notes from the She-Creature:
I no longer remember what S called me about that night, because there were so many conversations involving him crying over something K did or said. The one thing that continued to bother me in these weeks was that S refused to take off his wedding ring... a bad sign if there ever was one. In the next blog, where I tell of us holding hands on our snow walk, I left out that his wedding ring was digging into my knuckles like a thorn. Little did I know how that feeling was going to blow up so quickly and furiously.
January 30, 2005 - BABY, IT'S COLD OUTSIDE
Notes from the She-Creature:
As glorious and beautiful as that entry reads, there was oh so much more to that story. Notice first the big gap between the dates of this entry and the next. Why? Things got insane, that's why. First, on the following weekend, which was the Superbowl, as I recall, S and I were standing in my kitchen talking about his divorce when we heard a loud "beep" come from somewhere. We were both confused by it and continued to discuss things when whatever it was beeped again and we heard a voice, "S...., is that you?"
S went white as a sheet... it was his father-in-law, who'd invited him to their house for their annual Superbowl party and S had turned him down this time. Turns out that S was also using an old cellphone of K's that had that 2-way radio function... she must've turned it on at some point and it meant that whoever was in their circle could listen in or talk whenever they wanted. This time it was K's dad, with K obviously there listening in.
A couple days later, I got a phone call from a caller i.d. blocked number (just said "call") on my cell phone. I don't normally answer those, but I did anyway. I said "hello" and was greeted with silence. I said "hello" again, and I heard a breath from someone female or a gasp maybe, and then they hung up on me.
I remembered that the previous day, S had called me from his old house because his 3-year-old was sick and had to stay home from daycare. I told him that he'd need to make sure to call other numbers after mine, so not to leave my number for K to find by hitting "redial." I don't think he did. I also realized that a month had gone by and there was a chance that the cell phone bill had arrived at the house, instead of at S's apartment as I'd advised. Now K had a record of all the calls we'd made to each other, as well as my number.
I called S and told him that I'd just had an anonymous hangup caller and that I was sure it was K. He tried to play it off as a random event, but I swore to him that my gut told me it was her and that I would no longer be answering any calls unless I knew who the caller was. The next day, I got another anonymous call that went to my voicemail... and this time the person left a message.
"IF YOU COME NEAR MY CHILDREN, I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!"
No doubt about it, it was K. I saved the message to play for S when he came over later... he looked like he was about to vomit. The next day, K called him on the carpet about me and he finally admitted that he was seeing someone. They talked for hours, with K crying and throwing things the whole time. That weekend, S came to spend the night again and all night long K called and called and called from the gate of his apartment complex, begging to be let in... pushing all kinds of buttons while screaming into the phone and leaving unintelligible messages that went on forever. She even tried scaling the fence and fell and hurt herself and called to tell him that she was bleeding.
The next day, she locked herself in her bathroom and cried until she was vomiting. Their oldest son called S repeatedly, asking him what he should do... if he should call 911, if mommy was trying to kill herself, saying that she told him that daddy had a girlfriend and didn't want her anymore. Great. A psycho woman who falls to shit when she realizes she has no control. He waded through the weekend like a zombie... not sleeping, pacing, wanting to go to her... but he waited until it was his turn to have the kids on Monday.
Monday came and he went inside the house, though I told him that he should avoid that from now on... he didn't listen. He went inside and she instantly launched into hysterics again, this time throwing bowls of oatmeal at his head that shattered against walls, and when that didn't work, she threw herself to the floor in a heap. That's all that he told me, though it sounded like he was there for quite some time.
As crazy as all of that sounds, that wasn't the end of the tantrums and tactics... not by a longshot. The next time he came over to pick up the kids, she was standing out on the front lawn alone. When he asked where the kids were, she told him that they were inside and he'd have to get them ready himself, while she waited outside. He took them back to his apartment and they all went to bed for the night. At around 4am, I was typing something for my thesis when an email came from S. This was odd, since he didn't have email access in his apartment. When I read it, I soon realized it wasn't from him at all, but from K... she'd hacked into his email account and wanted to read everything and give me a piece of her mind. I didn't read the whole, long message... instead I called S's cell to let him know that she was insane and had hacked him. I left him a voicemail, because I knew that he'd be asleep, but at least he'd know about this as soon as he woke up... I also assured him that I was going to do nothing until I heard from him.
About 2 minutes after I left my message, my phone rang... it was S calling. I thought that perhaps he heard his phone ring and woke up... but as soon as I said "Hey. Did you get my message," I was greeted with a woman saying, "Obviously you didn't read my whole email, because I said that I stole his phone, too." It was K and my blood ran cold as I braced myself for a trip to crazytown.
She began screaming and ranting all kinds of things... things like what kind of a whore she thought I was, thing like how I should just know that for the rest of her life she'd be able to give S a look and he'd jump back into bed with her... the phone call progressed though as I didn't react in kind. Instead, I told her that I know there's 2 sides to every story, but she had to admit that the tale S had to tell about her wasn't flattering. She admitted that she'd made mistakes, but she also wanted me to know that S wasn't a saint either. She then told me all about how many times in those last several weeks that S had come over to their house immediately after being with me, and trying to get her back in bed... she said that it was she who was doing the refusing, not the other way around. She also told me about their discussions about me after she found out... about how he complained that he wasn't really attracted to my body, and about how he only saw me as a way to stay occupied and to get back at K. She also told me that they weren't getting divorced and that they weren't even separated... that they were giving each other some space, because S's jealousies had become dangerous and obsessive... but that it was just a temporary living arrangement and that his lease was only for 6 months... after that, they'd be back together again. She also asked if I was bothered by all the pictures of her around his apartment... she said she didn't put them there, and she was surprised herself when she saw them.
The truth was that I'd only seen them myself for the first time that week, since we hadn't been spending any time at his place. When I went over there, I was shocked and embarrassed and angry all at once. There had to have been a dozen photos of her in frames on every surface... some with the kids, some alone. I said nothing, but my mood that evening changed drastically and he even asked me what was wrong... I told him that I wasn't well.
Some of the crazy stuff was hearing her say things like, "You like his ass? He's got the best ass, doesn't he? And you know what else? His sons have that same ass." Or, "S can't just have sex with someone... he has to make love and it's easy to fall for that... I bet as soon as you heard that accent, you imagined what that would be like, didn't you?" I listened to all of it for an hour, and by that time K was talking to me like I was her best friend... she said that she'd like me to continue seeing S and hoped that we'd end up together, so that she and I could work on becoming friends. It was very creepy the way her mood just switched like that. She thanked me for listening to her... really listening (and I was, because I didn't want her doing something drastic, and because I knew that at least some of what she was saying had to be true). The conversation would have continued if S's phone hadn't lost its charge and went dead... she called back while I was trying to call her back, so both of our calls went to voicemail... mine apologizing for the disconnection and not wanting her to think that I'd hung up on her... hers thanking me profusely for our talk and for how great I'd handled her call. I saved that message, too, for S to hear later.
He came over that night with his tail between his legs. He'd already been to see K that afternoon, and now he had to deal with me. I noticed right away that he'd taken off his wedding ring. He told me that it was officially over and that the divorce would finally proceed. When I asked him about the pictures in his place, he admitted that he put them up because he missed her and he was trying to win her back. When I asked if, like K had told me, that he'd chase her around their house trying to get her in bed right after being at my place... if that was true... he fully admitted it to be the case and added that he did that because she did that to him after she'd had sex with the boy as well as when she was sleeping with his brother. When I asked if he was unhappy with my body, he said that was true as well, though he thought that he and I were better matched in bed than K and him. When I asked if he only saw me as temporary, he admitted that when he was with me, he had lots of fun and was happy; but that when he wasn't with me, he never really thought about me at all (odd, since that love letter and others like it were written by him without any prompting from me).
I told him that he had a lot to think about, as did I. We went to bed together that night, but as I lay there, I saw a very different man. Behind the sadness, I saw what else he was hiding... and when before I'd felt deeply attracted to him, I looked at him and really looked... I saw a frail, overly thin man, whose head looked too big for his body and whose flesh hung from his bone... I saw a weak, pathetic man whom I normally wouldn't give a second glance. The next day, I wrote the last blog.
February 21, 2005 - NO SLEEP AND YET I DREAM
Notes from the She-Creature:
A couple of days later, it was over. I asked him to give me back movies and various things he'd borrowed and I told him to deal with his divorce and get back to me later. I also said that if he couldn't break the manipulation cycle with K, if he was addicted to it (he called her craziness "passion," that's how dumb he was) then he really needed to consider giving the rest of the world a break and just stay married... no one else needed the kinds of head games those two enjoyed, especially not me.
He kept calling though, for several weeks. I went to the musical that he was in several weeks later and he tried to rekindle things on the phone with me, while still wanting to talk about K and how she was vowing that they'd be best friends to the end and how that made him so happy. That's when I got mad at him at last, telling him that he was a fool and that they could never be friends with the kind of manipulation that they used on one another... that he'd be lucky just to get away with a sense of calm before some other storm hit.
He told me that maybe we shouldn't talk until after his divorce was final, but I responded by telling him not to contact me at all... that I didn't need him messing with my emotions 6 months to a year later, when I might be happily involved with someone else... and even if I wasn't, I didn't want to be part of that weird triangle ever again. I told him that he obviously needed a lesson in letting go, and I was exactly the person to give it to him. That was it... nothing more... except for 2 phone calls a few weeks later. One he asked me if I'd been text messaging him erotic love notes, and I told him that I'd honestly been leaving him totally alone and once again he needed to look in his own backyard for the mysterious messenger. The last call was a misdial that he'd meant for his babysitter, whose name was also Sherri. I suggested to him that he could easily delete my number from his phone, as I had done with his, so that he couldn't make that mistake again. That was that, and in 2 years and just a few miles between us, I haven't seen him or heard from him since.
I honestly don't go looking for drama, yet it always seems to find me. This relationship go-around, however, is filled with as many funny, silly, laughable moments as it has drama... and even the drama seems like it was written for a sitcom. No matter what the outcome, I've now committed myself to writing about it for everyone to share later. I don't know how many tears I'll be getting from my readers then, unless you count tears of laughter... and I'm hoping still that it will have a much better ending (or at least a "to be continued" aspect) than my previous example. I may let segments or scenes slip out from time to time, to get broader feedback... but from here on, if you see an entry that you can't access, just know that the book is coming along nicely.
Damn, look at at the time... it's 4am. I shouldn't let myself start writing after midnight, but that's when the words and memories seem to flow. Creativity is a harsh mistress.
I used the experience to write out things that had been locking in my psyche for many years, to go into emotions and experiences that I rarely spoke of, much less wrote to anyone... and I tried on the experience to see if it would help me to release old hurts. Little did I know that it put me in a position that I never wished to be --as "the other woman"-- and would leave me with an understanding of love versus obsession that still haunts me today. The main thing that I learned was that love comes to you freely and is returned just as freely, while obsession is the opposite... nothing is free, everything is conditional and everything is managed and controlled. My own marriage had been based mostly in the latter, so seeing it in another couple was enlightening. In addition, feeling free to give whatever I had for no other reason than it was there, that was something that I celebrated even in the end. And in the end, I chose to teach as much as I learned... walking away from someone I held dear, because I deserved better... and because he needed a lesson in letting go.
The other thing that the relationship taught me was that writing was a great way to find meaning in moments that would otherwise be forgotten. Two years later and when I re-read those blog entries, I'm grateful that I have them... not to remember the relationship or to dwell in the past, but to remind me that there are lessons and signs everywhere we look. It's also a great portal into the past for me... because the person I am today isn't the person I was then... but much more than that. It's walking along the beach and turning to look back at your footprints to see how far you've come.
Many of you who read those entries back then wrote to me wanting more of the story... what was going on behind the scenes. I told some of you privately, and I added tiny bits publicly in the comments, but very few knew the whole sordid story.
Until now.
It's been long enough that the major players in that drama have moved on in their lives and shouldn't be concerned if I were to share the details now (keeping everyone anonymous still, of course). If you wish to re-read the entries, I'm including links to them here... you'll be here a while, as I'm as long-winded in those entries as I am right now... but I guarantee it's worth the trip. I'm still quite impressed by some of the profound thoughts that I spelled out there, if I do say so myself.
Under each link, I'm including a synopsis of the behind-the-scenes stuff as I can recall them.
January 05, 2005 - I'VE BEEN GIVEN REASON
Notes from the She-Creature:
The details that are missing are as follows: The Brit (or S, as I also referred to him) had just moved out of his house after trying for several months to live under the same roof with his wife of 16 years (K, as I'll refer to her), who was carrying on an affair with a former student of hers (she taught Advanced English to high school Seniors)... a boy who'd been her student just a couple of years earlier, whom she'd stayed in touch with as his "mentor" and who was at the tender age of 21 at the time. He'd learned of their affair after having his suspicions and hacking into her Hotmail account as well as stumbling upon printed out emails that she'd been saving in a little lockbox. K wanted S to stay under the same roof and allow her to continue to see the boy, so that she could have a live-in babysitter for their two boys (ages 11 and 3)... she even guaranteed that he'd be allowed to date someone as well, just as long as she hand-picked the girl, which she did.
Of course, she never allowed S to follow through with his affair with her friend, because once they stopped sharing their correspondence with K, K got angry and hurt that she was being left out. Yes, it was a sick and twisted scenario. After several months of K's continued transgressions and S trying to stay positive for the kids' sake, even helping her pick out clothes for her dates, S finally blew up one day and that's when K told him that he'd have to find his own place. He moved out at Xmas and I met him the day after New Years... so this all went down fairly quickly.
In our first week together, I continually asked S if he was getting divorced, because his constant tears were a sign that he was not on that path at all... he should have been angry, rather than depressed. He reassured me that there was no going back to that woman, and all I could do was take him at his word... or let him go and not get involved. I fell for the lost puppy dog eyes and for the sincerity that seemed to pour off of him... but I'll admit that I was too close to see the whole picture. What I did see was a mirror into who I was back in 1999 and it was empathy due to my own experience... how I'd wished not to be alone back then... that kept me with S after I met him.
January 12, 2005 - LIFE IS NOT A DRESS REHEARSAL
Notes from the She-Creature:
Pass judgment on me if you must, but I did choose to sleep with a man who was not only still married, but only very recently separated... all of which comes with a lot of baggage. I felt more than capable of carrying some of that baggage, at least for a while. I felt that there was a lesson for me in it... good or bad... and I needed to follow it through for it to be revealed. The beginnings of that new light were being seen in this passage.
January 19, 2005 - LESSONS FROM CRUEL SHOES
Notes from the She-Creature:
I'd continued to learn more and more about S and K's relationship. Apparently, S met K through S's brother M. M was dating his now wife at the time and K had obviously developed a crush on him. Because M was taken, he and his girlfriend thought that K would like S... so they invited S to the States for a visit. S didn't fall instantly. Instead, he met K and saw a pushy, rude, control freak of a woman who seemed a bit unbalanced and too willing to go-off on someone with a hair-trigger switch. When he returned to England, K began writing to him, telling him about how beautiful their kids would look, how great it would be if they were married and could spend time together with M and his girlfriend, raise their kids together, take vacations all around the world together, and grow old together. S fell for this kind of flattery immediately, and within a few months, he was back in the States for good (or for worse). They were married a few months later.
That was only the beginning of the trip to crazytown. K's crush on S's brother didn't stop after she and S married. Instead, it only grew more intense and she eventually wooed M into bed with her... an affair that lasted the first 3 years of their marriage... S+K and M's marriage as well... all behind their spouses' backs. It wasn't until both S and M had their first children and were all on at trip to a local museum when the secret was revealed. K kept following M all around the museum, pleading with M over something with tears in her eyes... S could see them from a distance, but never heard what the conversation was about... though he could tell that his wife was distressed and that his brother was trying to get away from her. When they got in the car, K turned to S and told him about her long affair with his brother, blaming M for the whole thing, of course.
Naturally, this put a rift in the brothers' relationship with one another. S chose to believe K's story, because he had a child with her and wanted to keep his son in his life. Behind the scenes, K continued to harass M, driving him out of the state to find solace in the mountains somewhere. When I stepped into the picture all those year later, I wanted to get to the bottom of this story and help repair S and M's relationship (ha! I said "S and M"), so I wrote to M... that's when I learned just how evil and undermining and manipulative S's wife was.
January 24, 2005 - FULL OF FIRSTS
Notes from the She-Creature:
After I'd gotten S in contact with his brother again, and after we both helped to remove the blinders he'd been wearing regarding K's manipulation tactics, he seemed like a rejuvenated man. He even began writing love letters to me and I asked if it was okay if I published one in my blog. He agreed, though he was hesitant.
Whenever we went out, I couldn't help but notice that he seemed like he was trying to avoid being seen by anyone. This put a lot of doubt in my head about his intentions, but I just kept telling myself that it was my own distrust in people that was seeing things. I'd told him when we first started dating that he needed to tell K that he was seeing someone, but he said she'd explode and he was afraid of her anger. I told him that if he didn't do that, when she did find out it would be far worse, but he didn't budge. So I then told him that he would need to make sure that she had no way to peer into his private life... change his billing address on his cell phone, make sure his online accounts didn't have passwords that she knew, etc. He told me that he'd take care of all of that, but apparently he didn't.
Instead, he'd tell me about his moments of being with K when they'd exchange the kids... how she'd try to put the moves on him and he'd rebuff her... how she'd try to bring up emotional topics that would bring him to tears so she could comfort him. He didn't seem to want to listen when I told him that he needed to seriously put some space between them or he'd be getting spun like a yo-yo forever... that this was his time to set the pattern for the future. He claimed he'd take my comments into advisement, but that he knew what he was doing. I would tell him, I would listen, but beyond that there was nothing I could do. But as you'll read in the next entry, thing continued to be difficult.
January 27, 2005 - BREAD AND SOUP
Notes from the She-Creature:
I no longer remember what S called me about that night, because there were so many conversations involving him crying over something K did or said. The one thing that continued to bother me in these weeks was that S refused to take off his wedding ring... a bad sign if there ever was one. In the next blog, where I tell of us holding hands on our snow walk, I left out that his wedding ring was digging into my knuckles like a thorn. Little did I know how that feeling was going to blow up so quickly and furiously.
January 30, 2005 - BABY, IT'S COLD OUTSIDE
Notes from the She-Creature:
As glorious and beautiful as that entry reads, there was oh so much more to that story. Notice first the big gap between the dates of this entry and the next. Why? Things got insane, that's why. First, on the following weekend, which was the Superbowl, as I recall, S and I were standing in my kitchen talking about his divorce when we heard a loud "beep" come from somewhere. We were both confused by it and continued to discuss things when whatever it was beeped again and we heard a voice, "S...., is that you?"
S went white as a sheet... it was his father-in-law, who'd invited him to their house for their annual Superbowl party and S had turned him down this time. Turns out that S was also using an old cellphone of K's that had that 2-way radio function... she must've turned it on at some point and it meant that whoever was in their circle could listen in or talk whenever they wanted. This time it was K's dad, with K obviously there listening in.
A couple days later, I got a phone call from a caller i.d. blocked number (just said "call") on my cell phone. I don't normally answer those, but I did anyway. I said "hello" and was greeted with silence. I said "hello" again, and I heard a breath from someone female or a gasp maybe, and then they hung up on me.
I remembered that the previous day, S had called me from his old house because his 3-year-old was sick and had to stay home from daycare. I told him that he'd need to make sure to call other numbers after mine, so not to leave my number for K to find by hitting "redial." I don't think he did. I also realized that a month had gone by and there was a chance that the cell phone bill had arrived at the house, instead of at S's apartment as I'd advised. Now K had a record of all the calls we'd made to each other, as well as my number.
I called S and told him that I'd just had an anonymous hangup caller and that I was sure it was K. He tried to play it off as a random event, but I swore to him that my gut told me it was her and that I would no longer be answering any calls unless I knew who the caller was. The next day, I got another anonymous call that went to my voicemail... and this time the person left a message.
"IF YOU COME NEAR MY CHILDREN, I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!"
No doubt about it, it was K. I saved the message to play for S when he came over later... he looked like he was about to vomit. The next day, K called him on the carpet about me and he finally admitted that he was seeing someone. They talked for hours, with K crying and throwing things the whole time. That weekend, S came to spend the night again and all night long K called and called and called from the gate of his apartment complex, begging to be let in... pushing all kinds of buttons while screaming into the phone and leaving unintelligible messages that went on forever. She even tried scaling the fence and fell and hurt herself and called to tell him that she was bleeding.
The next day, she locked herself in her bathroom and cried until she was vomiting. Their oldest son called S repeatedly, asking him what he should do... if he should call 911, if mommy was trying to kill herself, saying that she told him that daddy had a girlfriend and didn't want her anymore. Great. A psycho woman who falls to shit when she realizes she has no control. He waded through the weekend like a zombie... not sleeping, pacing, wanting to go to her... but he waited until it was his turn to have the kids on Monday.
Monday came and he went inside the house, though I told him that he should avoid that from now on... he didn't listen. He went inside and she instantly launched into hysterics again, this time throwing bowls of oatmeal at his head that shattered against walls, and when that didn't work, she threw herself to the floor in a heap. That's all that he told me, though it sounded like he was there for quite some time.
As crazy as all of that sounds, that wasn't the end of the tantrums and tactics... not by a longshot. The next time he came over to pick up the kids, she was standing out on the front lawn alone. When he asked where the kids were, she told him that they were inside and he'd have to get them ready himself, while she waited outside. He took them back to his apartment and they all went to bed for the night. At around 4am, I was typing something for my thesis when an email came from S. This was odd, since he didn't have email access in his apartment. When I read it, I soon realized it wasn't from him at all, but from K... she'd hacked into his email account and wanted to read everything and give me a piece of her mind. I didn't read the whole, long message... instead I called S's cell to let him know that she was insane and had hacked him. I left him a voicemail, because I knew that he'd be asleep, but at least he'd know about this as soon as he woke up... I also assured him that I was going to do nothing until I heard from him.
About 2 minutes after I left my message, my phone rang... it was S calling. I thought that perhaps he heard his phone ring and woke up... but as soon as I said "Hey. Did you get my message," I was greeted with a woman saying, "Obviously you didn't read my whole email, because I said that I stole his phone, too." It was K and my blood ran cold as I braced myself for a trip to crazytown.
She began screaming and ranting all kinds of things... things like what kind of a whore she thought I was, thing like how I should just know that for the rest of her life she'd be able to give S a look and he'd jump back into bed with her... the phone call progressed though as I didn't react in kind. Instead, I told her that I know there's 2 sides to every story, but she had to admit that the tale S had to tell about her wasn't flattering. She admitted that she'd made mistakes, but she also wanted me to know that S wasn't a saint either. She then told me all about how many times in those last several weeks that S had come over to their house immediately after being with me, and trying to get her back in bed... she said that it was she who was doing the refusing, not the other way around. She also told me about their discussions about me after she found out... about how he complained that he wasn't really attracted to my body, and about how he only saw me as a way to stay occupied and to get back at K. She also told me that they weren't getting divorced and that they weren't even separated... that they were giving each other some space, because S's jealousies had become dangerous and obsessive... but that it was just a temporary living arrangement and that his lease was only for 6 months... after that, they'd be back together again. She also asked if I was bothered by all the pictures of her around his apartment... she said she didn't put them there, and she was surprised herself when she saw them.
The truth was that I'd only seen them myself for the first time that week, since we hadn't been spending any time at his place. When I went over there, I was shocked and embarrassed and angry all at once. There had to have been a dozen photos of her in frames on every surface... some with the kids, some alone. I said nothing, but my mood that evening changed drastically and he even asked me what was wrong... I told him that I wasn't well.
Some of the crazy stuff was hearing her say things like, "You like his ass? He's got the best ass, doesn't he? And you know what else? His sons have that same ass." Or, "S can't just have sex with someone... he has to make love and it's easy to fall for that... I bet as soon as you heard that accent, you imagined what that would be like, didn't you?" I listened to all of it for an hour, and by that time K was talking to me like I was her best friend... she said that she'd like me to continue seeing S and hoped that we'd end up together, so that she and I could work on becoming friends. It was very creepy the way her mood just switched like that. She thanked me for listening to her... really listening (and I was, because I didn't want her doing something drastic, and because I knew that at least some of what she was saying had to be true). The conversation would have continued if S's phone hadn't lost its charge and went dead... she called back while I was trying to call her back, so both of our calls went to voicemail... mine apologizing for the disconnection and not wanting her to think that I'd hung up on her... hers thanking me profusely for our talk and for how great I'd handled her call. I saved that message, too, for S to hear later.
He came over that night with his tail between his legs. He'd already been to see K that afternoon, and now he had to deal with me. I noticed right away that he'd taken off his wedding ring. He told me that it was officially over and that the divorce would finally proceed. When I asked him about the pictures in his place, he admitted that he put them up because he missed her and he was trying to win her back. When I asked if, like K had told me, that he'd chase her around their house trying to get her in bed right after being at my place... if that was true... he fully admitted it to be the case and added that he did that because she did that to him after she'd had sex with the boy as well as when she was sleeping with his brother. When I asked if he was unhappy with my body, he said that was true as well, though he thought that he and I were better matched in bed than K and him. When I asked if he only saw me as temporary, he admitted that when he was with me, he had lots of fun and was happy; but that when he wasn't with me, he never really thought about me at all (odd, since that love letter and others like it were written by him without any prompting from me).
I told him that he had a lot to think about, as did I. We went to bed together that night, but as I lay there, I saw a very different man. Behind the sadness, I saw what else he was hiding... and when before I'd felt deeply attracted to him, I looked at him and really looked... I saw a frail, overly thin man, whose head looked too big for his body and whose flesh hung from his bone... I saw a weak, pathetic man whom I normally wouldn't give a second glance. The next day, I wrote the last blog.
February 21, 2005 - NO SLEEP AND YET I DREAM
Notes from the She-Creature:
A couple of days later, it was over. I asked him to give me back movies and various things he'd borrowed and I told him to deal with his divorce and get back to me later. I also said that if he couldn't break the manipulation cycle with K, if he was addicted to it (he called her craziness "passion," that's how dumb he was) then he really needed to consider giving the rest of the world a break and just stay married... no one else needed the kinds of head games those two enjoyed, especially not me.
He kept calling though, for several weeks. I went to the musical that he was in several weeks later and he tried to rekindle things on the phone with me, while still wanting to talk about K and how she was vowing that they'd be best friends to the end and how that made him so happy. That's when I got mad at him at last, telling him that he was a fool and that they could never be friends with the kind of manipulation that they used on one another... that he'd be lucky just to get away with a sense of calm before some other storm hit.
He told me that maybe we shouldn't talk until after his divorce was final, but I responded by telling him not to contact me at all... that I didn't need him messing with my emotions 6 months to a year later, when I might be happily involved with someone else... and even if I wasn't, I didn't want to be part of that weird triangle ever again. I told him that he obviously needed a lesson in letting go, and I was exactly the person to give it to him. That was it... nothing more... except for 2 phone calls a few weeks later. One he asked me if I'd been text messaging him erotic love notes, and I told him that I'd honestly been leaving him totally alone and once again he needed to look in his own backyard for the mysterious messenger. The last call was a misdial that he'd meant for his babysitter, whose name was also Sherri. I suggested to him that he could easily delete my number from his phone, as I had done with his, so that he couldn't make that mistake again. That was that, and in 2 years and just a few miles between us, I haven't seen him or heard from him since.
I honestly don't go looking for drama, yet it always seems to find me. This relationship go-around, however, is filled with as many funny, silly, laughable moments as it has drama... and even the drama seems like it was written for a sitcom. No matter what the outcome, I've now committed myself to writing about it for everyone to share later. I don't know how many tears I'll be getting from my readers then, unless you count tears of laughter... and I'm hoping still that it will have a much better ending (or at least a "to be continued" aspect) than my previous example. I may let segments or scenes slip out from time to time, to get broader feedback... but from here on, if you see an entry that you can't access, just know that the book is coming along nicely.
Damn, look at at the time... it's 4am. I shouldn't let myself start writing after midnight, but that's when the words and memories seem to flow. Creativity is a harsh mistress.
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