Saturday, March 24, 2012

I like you a lot

I recently started talking to someone I met online. We clicked instantly. He lives in Alabama, of course. Why would he be close? I've rarely clicked with anyone this fast. It's bizarre. We have SO much in common, right down to possible A.D.D. I never talk on the phone, even to my closest friends. I talk to him on the phone everyday. I delight in talking to him. A very good friend of mine experienced this same thing not long ago. I remember her asking if I thought two people could fall in love before ever meeting. I said definitely. That's the hardest part-the emotional connection. A physical connection is easier to find. Finding someone you can talk to & laugh with & enjoy is so difficult to find. For the first time in a long time, I'm smiling again. I'm laughing again. I've learned there's a balance, though. A man can make you smile, but friends can make you smile just as much. I'll never forget that. I feel myself liking him more and more each day and trying to resist what I think are feelings developing. But, he's fantastic. Truly fantastic.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

My not so real boyfriends

When you join an online dating site, you juggle a roster of men. Currently, I have a list.
I'm talking to two Matts. One is infuriating & stood me up last Friday. The other is so sweet & we have a date tomorrow.
Daily, I talk to Nathanael in NC. I'm convinced we're soul mates. He's handsome & calls me "darlin".
There are a couple of very young guys who text me. One is super hot. Super hot. Is it wrong to sleep with a 21 year old? (like I've never done that).
I've made 2 good friends via the website-Bennie & Anthony. We talk daily. Good guys.
KoolAidDave wants to have sex with me. Don't see that happening. So dies Ghost Bicycle. Now, he is Irish/Jewish, so that might. However, he sends me daily pics of his penis. We all know how I feel about that. is a big failure. The only hits I got were a man from Turkey that seemed to think he was going to bed me. No. There was a handsome guy that talked about making a date & then flaked.
There's my gay date who texts me a lot & calls me beautiful.
Last, but not least, there's a super nice guy I met at work. He's a single dad & the nicest guy you'll ever meet. He wants to take me out, but I'm not sure. Of course, I'm only attracted to someone if they're a complete dick. Hence my ongoing saga with Matt #1.
Maybe Matt #2 will work out better. Dating sucks. Why am I still so attracted to Matt #1. Oh, because he made out with me & then flaked. Irresistible to my psyche. He was a good kisser, though. And physically my type. Dammit. Dick. I should just go on an international sleeping tour & not "date" at all. Besides, it's been a long time. Fuck you, Patrick. You fucking asshole. Just had to get that out there. What a fucking dick. My one wish in life is for his girlfriend to cheat on him. Through a cancer scare. Please, sweet baby Jesus, make this happen. I'm horrible, I know. So, shut it. I kicked two deaf people out of my store the other day with no bad feelings at all. Patrick killed my soul. It is what it is. It's why I hope he gets mouth raped by a big black man on a daily basis. Then, I wish eye herpes on him when the guy finishes on his face. Yes, the depths of my hate are bottomless.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

My gaydar is going off

I'm pretty sure the guy I met for coffee tonight might be gay. "Not that there's anything wrong with that". I just prefer my dates to be straight. Keeps it simple. He was a very nice guy. I met him & within 30 seconds I thought "Oh, he's gay. Enjoy the next couple of hours, idiot". Like I said, he was very nice. I don't think he realizes he's gay, either. He kept talking about dates with girls, ex-girlfriends, etc. But, my gaydar was really going off. Oddly, at the end of the date, he got my phone number. Then, he seemed like he wanted a hug or kiss. I just yelled "Thanks for coffee" & took off for my car. He's confused. It's not my job to set him straight. At least he didn't cancel. I didn't expect anything from tonight. I just wanted to get out & talk to someone new. Wait a minute... Who is this talking? Am I starting to get over Patrick & not care about finding someone so much? Yes, I am. I'm getting comfortable being alone. I have strange days when I don't give a shit. I'm not going to lie, I'm still pretty crushed over Patrick. Still feel he was "the one". But, fuck it, I obviously wasn't what he wanted. Can't change it, so move on, jackass. Stop caring about a jerk who cheated on you. For the love of all things holy, STOP SMELLING HIS SHIRT. Ok, maybe this getting better has daily setbacks. I'll get there. In the meantime, I have Viggo, Netflix, friends & Ancient Aliens to keep me happy. I leave you with a pic of the only lady I'd go gay for, Miss Christina Hendricks. Enjoy.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Am I George Valentin?

Last night, I finally saw The Artist. Unlike many of my peers, I enjoy & have seen silent movies. Charlie Chaplin was a genius. Without him, the film industry wouldn't be what it is today. Google him if you don't know. Needless to say, I loved the movie. I deeply loved & identified with the main character, George Valentin. He was a silent film star in the new talkie era. I saw his life as a metaphor for my love life. An aging star having to make way in a new world. He tried on his own & failed. He fell into deep depression & drank. I guess that's why I cried like a baby watching the movie to the shock of my two friends. It was so sad. He just wanted to carry on in life as it was. He was happy. Then things changed. He had a hard time changing with them. I felt his pain. I know what it's like to feel old & out of place. Try dating nowadays. It's brutal. I think I broke down even more when Peppy Miller tried to save him. To know that he had unseen hope. To see that he might have a future. Let me tell you, I feel hopeless 90% of the time. I'm like Charlie Brown after the fucking football gets pulled out from under him. I should have a "whomp-whah" noise to accompany me. So to see George have a future & to have love gave me hope. Now, I'm not as goddamned dashing as he is, but I haven't given up. Oddly, I don't know why. There's some stubborn resistance to this dismal search for love. I've found it before-twice. I can find it again. No matter how old I am or how washed up I seem. Fucking Dick Van Dyke just got married again. I mean, surely there's hope for me. My Peppy is out there somewhere.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

My mom, a great role model. NOT.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm so confused about relationships & love & I remember that I have insanity in my atmosphere called my mom. Now, most of you that know me know she is batshit crazy. Maybe you've talked to her drunken ass on the phone in the afternoon as I vehemently shake my head to indicate I don't want to talk to her. Or maybe you've just heard the stories. She's probably a good reason why I can't function normally with men. Let's just talk about my pre-teen years.
When I was 12, we were at the local Super-Rx. It was a drugstore, now defunct. A lot like Wal-Greens. As I stood looking at Teen Beat, she pulls out a Playgirl magazine pointing at a large penis saying "Look at this. This is what men look like!". Key words being twelve and penis. No, ma'am. She said it very viciously. As if it weren't a good thing. It's a wonder I'm not gay from that experience. Mom, I will not have you discourage me from penis.
My mom is kind of a man hater/lover. Ask her many former boyfriends & my dad. They may shudder & then tell you an entertaining story. But, let me share another great childhood experience.
Flashdance. A movie about a Steel city girl trying to make it as a dancer. Great for a mother & daughter to see, right? Apparently not. She's also a part-time stripper, which makes for a lot of topless scenes. My mother was not thrilled with that. After much loud grumbling, she stands up in the theater & yells "I'm sick of all these tits!". Somehow, I managed to calm her down & we finished watching the movie. A usual scenario with my mom, I'm traumatized & she's just in her own delusional, self-righteous world.
I could probably devote a whole blog to her & her insanity, but you wouldn't believe half of it. And, I try not to think about her & the shit she's put me through. Just know that my greatest fear is being anything like her. I guess that's why I find it unjust that, just like her, I go home to any empty apartment. I really try to be the opposite of her. I never scream at my boyfriends on an hourly basis. I never get blackout drunk & call my daughter screaming "bitch" into the phone. Ok, I don't have a daughter, but I have a son & I never scream that at him. Regardless, I feel she has damaged my relationship psyche. I don't even know if I can view a man in a normal way. I had my grandparents, who raised me & tried to reverse any damage. But, alas, the damage was done. Where do I go from here? Lots of self-analysis, self help books and avoidance of my mother. My own cure all for years of craziness. Just know that she's why I have horrible self-esteem and why I hate the phone. Maybe even why I don't like to get penis pictures sent to me. So, if you see me, cut me some slack. I struggle on a daily basis. I might need a hug or some therapy. Or both.

Monday, March 5, 2012

What the shit

I watched a tv show last night about abnormal people. There was an albino, black twin, a boy covered in hair like a wolf child, etc. Then, there was the world's tallest man. Or the world's former tallest man (he's been dethroned). Well over seven feet tall. Rough times for this man. Worst of all, he wanted love. So, his friends & family searched & helped him find love in his hometown. Now, you'd think I'd be thrilled & even inspired. Against all odds, he found love. No. Motherfucker found love?! Really? He can find love. Over seven feet tall? And then there's me. Normal girl, normal looks & intelligence. Love? NOOOOO. Oh, can't have that. No, sir. WHAT THE SHIT?! I can't even nail down a date. A fucking date. Dinner and a movie. Coffee. A drink. Nothing. Take a look around tomorrow at all the couples you see. Any of them stand out as spectacular? No. But, they've all found someone, haven't they? Why, my ex was so special he found two somebodies. But, me? Wtf? Now, granted, I was happy for the tall bastard when they updated his story & said he & his wife just welcomed a baby boy to the world. I'm not completely dead inside. It just seems like life is laughing in my face. Not for you. I'm disillusioned, to say the least. Depressed, extremely. Disgusted, I want to put my fist through the wall. Newt Gingrich. Married like three times! Erin Fleming? Sitting alone under an electric blanket watching Netflix ALONE. Bullshit. I'm fun. I'm good times. I like good things. I clean! Ok, maybe I can't cook, but I have so many other skills. I bet fucking Verne Troyer is in bed with someone right now.