“She Wins”

I’m putting her away deep in a box I constructed long ago. She doesn’t want to go back. She’s kicking and screaming and throwing a total fit. But she’s not required anymore. She’s not useful and all she does is make me cry.

It’s not my demon. No, ultimately, she’s been right every time. I designed her to protect my most tender spots and she’s tried. I thought I wanted her gone. But it’s better for the other part to go away.

The part that loves and cares too strongly. The part that still has hope that this isn’t really my life. She’s unrealistic, immature and soft. Too soft. These last two years have been mostly miserable – because she hoped for a different outcome. She’s always hoping. But my life is not supposed to have what she needs. I see that now. So, she goes back.

It’s hard. It hurts. Of course it does. There were a few times when I have been ecstatic about my life. But those are off moments. And they make it worse when reality comes crashing in. I think I deserve something good, but that’s not in my cards. I don’t even want to try anymore. I just want to move forward and forget this childish nonsense in my head.

I want the chaos to calm. That’s not some kind of threat to hurt myself. But it’s also a hope that I don’t hurt myself even more. My self-destruction is more subtle; slow. I likened it today to someone cutting themselves – except I do it to my mind. I find the most inventive ways to do it, too. Not alcohol or drugs or other overt ways. Those are easy to spot. People get frustrated with me because they don’t get it. Because I look ok. I sound ok. I’m really just an undercover nutter.

I’m afraid to try again. I’d forgotten and then refused to acknowledge that this is it for me. Too late. I’ve fully embraced the curse of my mother’s line. Being someone other isn’t possible for me. Not anymore.

So, I’m going against everything my therapist suggests. She means well, I know. But I don’t think she fully gets what I mean when I tell her these things. Loving myself, right now, means letting go of the part that hurts. I don’t need her anymore. I need the fierce, bitchy part of me more than anything.

It’s taking some time, but I’ve found a way to hurry it along. Wounds need to scar over and that scar tissue needs to be thick. With every hurt feeling I get a little cooler. More aloof. Less concerned with the tender feelings of others. More cruel. I will be sweet as anything, but woe to the person who might fall in love with me. I’ll love my family and friends forever. Everyone else can fuck themselves.

This is probably not good for people who are in the habit manipulating and controlling me. I’ve stopped pretending around Millie – which is a big step. I won’t ask for respect anymore. These mofos are used to using me for whatever. Everyone who thinks I am the person I allowed TheMan to mold me has been a little shocked. I don’t care anymore. The shin-kicking portion of this shit show is over. I’m done with the giving and getting. And I’m done bowing to my betters. I’m done worrying about some white trash skanks as if they mean anything to my life. I can’t say I’m done with the rage, though. The demon that thrives on that rage?

She wins.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

Had a Date Last Night

So, I finally went on a date last night. I decided it was time because absolutely nothing else is working. I’m just so tired of not doing anything because someone’s tender fucking feelings are going to get hurt. Time to worry about my own feelings1. He texted me yesterday asking about when we can get together. I decided that last night was the perfect time to do it.

It’s not some dude off a dating site though. I keep trying to meet these bozos, but they think I should come to their house to “watch movies”. Man, gtfo with that shit. I say “no” to that every time. Most of those guys know what’s up then and decide to cut contact. A couple of them have persisted. The last two standing sent me either full nudes or partial nudes to get me to meet up with them. I hate to break it to you, guys, but you’re penis is not all that attractive. I don’t care about that nonsense. And I’m certainly not sending nudes back. Not worth the effort.

“I’m sorry. It’s way too early for this nonsense. How’s about asking me how I am or, I dunno, what my favorite color is? Warm me up. Put in some effort. Better luck next time.”

I’ve known last night’s date for 25 years. A long time. He was 18 and still in school when I met him. He’s now working as a drug counselor at a halfway house2. Anyway, back then I was with Bobby. This dude and Bobby were friends. I BROKE A RULE. Anyway, he told me last night that he was mean to me back in the day because he had a huge crush on me. He said he regularly dreamt about me back then. What? Ok, then. Of course, he couldn’t do anything about his feelings because Bobby would’ve probably literally killed him3. I wouldn’t have been interested anyway. Bobby and I were deeply in love. I didn’t even look at other men back then4

We had a nice chat. I told him about the time I got into a fight with his first son’s mother for what I thought was no reason. Turns out she knew he had a crush on me. She regularly accused him of sleeping with me. I guess she even tried to tell Bobby once. But we weren’t sleeping together – ever. Bobby knew that. He didn’t even bother asking me. Anyway, she saw me alone in my favorite hole-in-the-wall and decided to flex on me. She’s a rather large girl and she had a bunch of other large girls with her. I actually made the right decision that time – I took off. But I didn’t just go home. Nope. I called Bobby. Then I went with him to his friend’s house and his friend’s sister was there. They called some people and the next night we all piled into two cars to go back to the bar. Of course, this woman and her friends were there. She was waiting for me. She shouldn’t have been. Really.

We all walked into that tiny bar as a group. The look on her face was amazing. She wasn’t expecting all that. I smiled at her and then she dashed out. We followed her out. Then my friends made sure her friends kept to themselves so we could battle right and proper. I kicked that bitch’s ass all over the place. She was much bigger than I, but I’ve been fighting big people my entire life. After she was thoroughly embarrassed, she flagged down a police car. She told the cop that I attacked her. It certainly looked that way. Then the cop came to talk to me. I was sitting by myself on the curb because I’m a cute little white girl and my friends were not. He asked me what happened.

Me: “I don’t know what’s going on. I’m just trying to sober up a little.”
Him: “She says you attacked and beat her.”
Me, laughing: “Really? Officer, that doesn’t make sense. Look at me then look at her.”
Him: “Thank you, Miss”

And away he drove with her safely in the back seat. It was that was the end of that. I never saw her or her friends in that bar again.

My friend then told me she’d always been jealous of me and probably wanted to settle the score. That was probably 5 years after Bobby and I broke up. She really did hate me a lot. I don’t care. Just another fucking fan.

So, back to my date. I got an invitation to the Bahamas and New Orleans next year. I might actually go. I don’t know. We had a couple of shots and some beer then called it a night. Anything else can wait until later. I didn’t want to go back to his place and he certainly wasn’t invited to mine. And this chick doesn’t do the back seat unless that back seat is something spectacular. I’m too old for that nonsense. Plus, I mean, I really want a dude to put in some work. I am so sick of these mofos who just treat me like a placeholder for someone else. He’ll have to put forth some effort. I think I’m worth it most of the time.

Bonus: My social calendar for June is actually full now. And I’m running into July5. This is exciting for me because I didn’t do anything last summer because of, well, my depression. I refuse to sit home all the time now. Bring on the adventures. I’m ready.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. I know I do that here. It’s different out in the real world. []
  2. Yes, he knows I smoke weed. []
  3. I was off limits forever. I’m still supposed to be off limits. []
  4. Well… During the early days of our relationship. []
  5. Going to Cedar Point. I love Cedar Point. I love rollercoasters. []

Me & My Demon alternatively I Am My Demon

I’ve had occasion to discuss my demon before. I call her an evil bitch, but that’s not really the case at all. She’s evil to everyone else. To me she’s a flaming sword.

The other day I asked someone “do you think in words or images?” It was an interesting conversation. One that I really want to explore. I asked her what would happen if I asked her to describe something how would she think about the something? She said she thinks in words. I think of different concepts in images. I can describe it to you in words, but it’s formed a shape in my mind – even concepts that don’t have a visual cue get one in my mind.
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I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

Things I have Learned From Idiot Men

I create a lot of problems for myself. I will be the first one to admit it. I will look down at my foot and shoot that fucker right off. I am too impulsive.

I did another stupid thing last weekend. I maybe will talk about this stupid thing when I can figure how out to tell the story1, but that’s not today. I want to talk about something I learned from my experiences with my craptastic exes. You know, the ones I allowed myself to become emotionally invested in. The ones that mattered.
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I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. I’ve written it and deleted it about 10 times. []

I’m Sick of Pretending

I’d like to make a confession.

I am terrified right now. I know what I need to do to go forward. I know what’s required to survive. I used to be so resilient. I’d bounce back from anything the fates threw at me.

But there’s been too much bouncing. Too many times I’ve had to find the pieces of my shattered life and putting them back together.

There has been too much goddamned loss. There ate too many scars. There are too many pieces of me cut off. This last time was too much. I just knew deep in my soul that he lives me. But he didn’t. I was wrong again. And I broke my own heart.

Moving won’t bring any if what I’ve lost back. I will always be missing pieces. I will always have this hole in my middle. I’ve run before. Then I came back and lost even more. I’ve hurt myself beyond measure. The fates have taken my confidence. They’ve left me dangling in the wind. I’m not getting stronger here. I’m not finding what I’ve never had. I had it. And then it was gone. Poof!

I have a story to tell and it’s a long one, folks. I hope you read to the end, but I think you already know the end.

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I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

What is Going on Here? Hint: Cougar Hunting

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve got profiles on some dating sites. I’ve been more active on them lately, which means I’m getting more traffic. Now, I’ve set an age range on my profiles. I don’t want to date young guys so I’ve made the limit 35-50. Anyone in that age range is acceptable to me. But here’s the thing: I keep getting messages from really young guys. These dudes are lying about their age in order to be able to message women my age. I had some idea of MILF hunters and I’ve joked that I’m a MILF. I didn’t think that seriously though. I mean, look at me, I’m short and my hair is weird. I expected to get messages from divorced guys, to be honest. Nope.

I’m mainly getting messages from guys younger than my age range. “I’m not really 42. I’m 25.” Shit like that. I had no idea so many guys were into women my age. I have a look about me, I guess. These mofos are pretty bold, too. Most of them are really respectful about it. But some of them are pretty aggressive. One guy told me I look just like his mother and that makes him hard. He asked me if I wanted to know why. I said “No, I don’t.” But he proceeded to tell me his mommy fantasy in great detail. Holy shitballs, that made my skin crawl. I laughed about it on Twitter, but it really was very, very creepy.

I don’t do that mommy shit. I don’t do the MILF thing either. Yes, I dated a man 20 years my junior, but I didn’t think of him like that. He was my man. These kids want to me to treat them like my children and I hate that. What the hell is going on with these guys? I’ve been chatting with one young dude1 and asked him why he was interested in older women. He said “more mature, no games and loyal honest and yes sexual experience is a plus”. I laughed. He has no idea who he’s talking to. I hate it when guys say they like honesty. None of them do. I’ve never met a man who truly likes honesty. And, yet, when a dude tells me that shit I will test him every single time.

When Lucifer and I first got together we agreed that we would completely honest with each other. And we also agreed that we could see other people. I told him what I don’t know won’t hurt me. And he said he wanted me to just be open and honest with him. When we got back together the final time he admitted to me that he got really jealous when he knew I was with someone else. He got really pissed when the pup would blow my phone up. He hated when I went on dates with other people. But he’d wanted me to be honest with him. So, I was honest with him. I told him all about it. I called him at the end of one date and told him all about it on my way home.

That was a bitch move, I know. But I had no idea that this was bothering him. I knew he was seeing other people. It was only fair, right? Anyway, he was a real trooper about it. He laughed at my the jokes I retold. He wanted to know if we made out. He was chatty and sounded like he was in a good mood. I remember I was really comfortable with the conversation because he sounded ok with everything. He told me later that he wanted to kill me the entire ride home2. I felt like that’s what he got for giving me permission to be an asshole. No, that’s not really fair to say. But that’s how I felt when he told me it hurt him. “That’s what you get, motherfucker.”

And how am I attracting all of these MILF hunters? Or cougar hunters, as one guy called himself:

I really don’t want to date a guy that young again. I made an exception for someone I thought was really special and that was obviously a mistake. I don’t want to go through all of that again. And I certainly don’t want to be some mommy fetish. That’s just so much ewwww.

Lil’lady says I shouldn’t date right now… because my future ex-boyfriend lives in Georgia. I about pissed my pants when she said that. She was so adamant about it. Based on what’s going on in this dating app she doesn’t have to worry about me falling in love with some asshole who convinces me to stay. Hahaha. Yeah, that shit’s not popping off again. I want to have fun, but I don’t want to be in love. Which means I’ll probably be pulling some bitch moves.

I’m looking forward to it.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. Wtf? I’m so stupid. []
  2. He was actually driving his car and was on his way home from seeing his baby’s mom. []

Jealous Boyfriends and the Stories I Tell

I’ve been writing a book. Well, ok, not recently. But I’ve gotten quite a bit of this book done – 89,000 words. Then I met Lucifer and, well, I stopped writing it. I was going to start up again, but my dumbass gave a good portion to the pup to read and that did not go well.

What was his complaint regarding what I’d given him? Well, for one, he seemed to think that it was a erotica about the UPS driver at work. Nooo. The one character he could’ve gotten that vibe has dark hair, dark eyes and sings popera. The guy the pup was so worried about is blonde with blue eyes and, I’m pretty sure, can’t sing. Words mean things.

Quite frankly, I was really into Josh Groban and David Tennant at the time and, well, combined the two in my sex-starved1 brain. But I never even wrote any sex scenes that could’ve been misinterpreted by anyone other than a pup with low self-esteem and a really terrible best friend.
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I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. At the time. []

Back When I was Blonde

So, I was browsing through my photos and what do I come across?

Me with blonde hair! Actually, I’m in a wig, but whatever. I was still cute even at the ripe old age of 43 (which was when this was taken). I like my hair darker because it makes me look all sultry1. I’m all sorts of versatile.

Oh, the memories.

JJ with Blonde Hair
Blonde JJ

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. Or as Lucifer’s Horseface said once “like a Mexican Gangsta Whore”. Ha! []

Ghosts are Bothering Me

Lil’lady and I are by ourselves now. No more roommates. No live-in boyfriends. No one to hide my stuff from. Today my plan is to move things I’ve been storing in my room to another room, bring a cabinet downstairs, and generally get used to living just the two of us. This is the first time in her life that is has been just the two of us. So, what’d she do yesterday? Locked us out. Oh, gotta love it. Anyway, it’s going to take a bit more adjusting to get used to this, but… We’ll be moving again soon. I’m not staying in this house when I don’t need those extra rooms. I want to move away from Ohio, to be honest, but that’s probably not going to pop off anytime soon. I will move from this gods-awful town, though. Rest assured about that. I don’t need to be reminded of everything I’ve lost while I’ve been here. Not anymore. There’s no point to it.

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I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.