Archive for September, 2013

Mirror, Mirror…

“You are extremely sexy- it’s your superpower – use it for good.”

This from a man that I had a fling with about a year ago, a sexy older man… who was going through a divorce… we were so not in the same place.  But, it was ok; it was really what we both needed at the time, neither of us had any delusions that it was more than it was.

He reached out to me after reading some of my stuff…

Wouldn’t it be nice to see yourself through the eyes of someone else??  Obviously, not someone that hates you or thinks that you’re a fuckweasel, but someone who thinks good things about you.

I’d like to look in the mirror and not see ugly and lame… I’d love to see the funny, artsy chick that some people think I am… I’d love to see sexy or, just for a minute, beautiful.

Who are the people that can see themselves for what they truly are?  Do these people even exist (that aren’t raging narcissists)?

I tried for a while, to enumerate some things that I didn’t think were bad about myself, tell myself every morning that I’m good enough, that I’m worthy…

It was an exercise in futility.

I’m thinking about getting hypnotized…  it’s worth a shot, right?????

I fear that if I used sexiness as a superpower, I’d just destroy cities and shit… I mean, how could I resist???



Not a keeper.

That’s who I am.

I should really be used to it by now.

I’m not.

Want a girl to have a good time with? Want a girl who can hold her own at the bar? Want a girl that isn’t afraid to do something totally crazy?  Want a girl to have a few weeks of crazy sex with??

I’m the girl for all of that.

Want a girl to be your girlfriend?  Want a girl to take home and meet your mother?

I’m apparently not the girl for that.

I hope you’ll forgive me for all of the whining I’m doing here… I do have friends, believe it or not.

But, I’m a suicide survivor, and they get all freaked when they think I’m down.  I don’t want to freak them out.

I need to vent.

“You’re not picking the right guys” is what I hear.   How in the fuck do you know who is the right guy?  Where in the fuck is he hiding?  Is it just not in the cards for me?

I hate all of these feelings of inadequacy… not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not smart enough, not funny enough, not successful enough… where does it end?  When will I ever feel good enough?

I don’t see it happening any time soon….

But, hey, I’m not lying in the bathtub with a blade to my wrists, so I’m not doing too bad.

Some days are hard… fucking hard.

Today has been one of those days for me.  Sometimes the weight of my loneliness hits me squarely in the gut… deflating me like a balloon, 3 days after the birthday party.

I drove around for a little while with the camera, only got about 4 photos I liked, then the rain forced me to go home, and I slept the afternoon away.

I went radio silent, no texting, no emailing…  is that healthy? Unlikely…  Do I know what is healthy? Unlikely.

Sometimes the darkness swallows me, I’ve learned that fighting it is futile… I’ll wallow a while, I suppose… what else do I have to do?

I wish that I had a normal, chemically-un-fucked brain.


Submission Saturday

I continue to be surprised by the sheer volume of submissive dudes there are out there.
This is just one of MANY similar messages I’ve received. At first, I thought I was some kind of weird sub magnet… But now I know better.
The first time a guy said “You might think this is unusual but my fantasy is to have a girl use a strap-on on me.”
After hearing it multiple times, I no longer think it’s unusual, it’s common.
The world definitely looks differently than it did before my re-entry into the dating world.


Thanks A Lot Universe


I think that the universe was fucking with me.

Something transpired with FG and a text message that I received that wasn’t meant for me.  One of my BFFs was also creeping on his Facebook and many of his posts seem angry.  I’m not a person that can deal with that and she knows it.  She texted me and asked if I had read his FB posts, I hadn’t (I’d make a terrible stalker), so I did.  The posts made me uncomfortable.

So, since I felt so hinky, I texted him and cancelled, I said that maybe we could reschedule for tomorrow, mainly to see what his response would be.  All that he replied was “yup”.

I think I’ll just drink wine and take antihistamines tonight.

Well, tonight I meet Facebook Guy (FG) I’m excited, but I’m not getting my hopes up, because I REFUSE to ever do that again… so if you notice that I’m getting my hopes up, give me a cyber-slap to the back of the head… PLEASE.

Last night during our non-stop textathon that has lasted 2 days, FG told me that he was poor.  He doesn’t have cable (no biggie, there’s never anything on it anyway) or a sofa.

Since I have a friend in the cyber-world that also doesn’t have a sofa, I hesitate to make any judgment regarding this.

Do I expect a man to take care of me? NO.  I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself.

Would I like a man to, EVENTUALLY, split bills with? HELL YES.

I once went out with a well-to-do older guy who said “I’d like to take care of you”.  It totally freaked me out and I went running for the hills.

Yea, I know, I have issues.  Speaking of issues, Boom and I were discussing the joys of not working last week, and I said that it was impossible for me not to work, being single and all.  He said unless I had a disability or something.

I said “Well I do have issues.”

He laughed and said “Uuuummm, I know, remember, we’ve met.”  HAHA

And the way we met only reinforces the severity of my issues.


Two years ago, I moved to my current city, at the same time I was getting sick with my autoimmune disease and I started dating this guy with the best smile I’ve ever seen in my ENTIRE life.  At the time I was in to bicycling, he was too, we got along really well.

Then I got sicker.

And I do what I do, I faded out.

We continued to stay in touch.  I once suggested that we try to date again but he admitted that he was “once bit, twice shy” and I really can’t blame him.  So I took it on the chin and we’ve remained friends.

He works a ridiculously fucked up swing-shift kinda schedule, which he says is making him hesitate to even get in a relationship.

So last night, we were texting, like we do almost every night and he says “Nothing easy in my life” (semi in jest) and I say “I’m the girl that you won’t date, you don’t have to tell me”.  He responds with “Ouch… a shot fired”. I apologized, it was late and I haven’t slept in days.

Then he says “It’s ok, you can speak what’s on your mind.  Perhaps we should have drinks and talk more about this.”  I said that I’d like that.  And I really would.

Is he softening? I don’t know.

Would I pick back up with him? Yes, in a heartbeat.

I realize that I fucked it up with him, I was sick and didn’t know how things were going to go, I didn’t want to drag anyone down with me… in retrospect, I know that I should have let him make that decision… but I thought I was doing what was best.  And really, what the fuck do I know anyway???

Tomorrow I’m going to a Reds game with my family and a BFF… 2 family weekends in a row… so bizarre!!!

OH AND… I have my first wedding scheduled for May, 2014!!

Have a great weekend peeps and fellow crazy girls!!!!

date 6

Me to a work friend:  “Did you have fun on your day off?”

Friend: “You mean at my grandma’s funeral?”

Yes, I am that girl.

So… last night I had another particularly bad night, tears, self-pity, self-loathing and all around patheticness.

Before my Benadryl kicked in, I asked the universe to show me a sign, a sign that I won’t be alone forever, that I don’t suck.

This morning when I wake up, I have a friend request on Facebook, from a cute guy.  I think “what the hell” and I accept it. 

He messaged me and told me that he had seen a comment that I made on our city news page and he thought I was cute :-).  We’ve been chatting all morning…

I even told him about my request to the universe, he thought that it was cool.

Who knows what will happen, but maybe the universe was listening and was sick of my blathering.

Come to me, Precious

I’m still waiting for the black fog to lift… I am still, however, going through the motions of my life… all day today, the only thought in my mind is that I can go straight to bed after work.  I do not feel compelled to slash my wrists, so it could definitely be worse.

I’m not really a slug, honestly I’m not.  I did go to Yellow Springs with God yesterday and we photographed the sunflowers and had a good time, I’m not sure I feel quite as creative as usual… but I’m out there.

I have a couple of potential dates on the horizon, but I refuse to get my hopes up, I’m just not doing it.

Today I am thinking about pet names.  I call people “darlin'”, lots of people, just not people that are fuckweasels.  It’s the southern belle that resides deep within me I guess… I don’t mind pet names, I’d actually kind of like one if I was in a relationship.  I will admit sometimes I’ll call someone darlin’ when I’ve forgotten their name, but I have short term memory issues, so it’s totally okay.

I once got a barrage of messages on POF from this man who owned a funeral home.  Now don’t get me wrong, I have no issues with that profession.  Actually, if I could afford to go back to school, I’d study mortuary science.  I know that I could do it, I’ve performed post-mortem care on many patients in my career, and surprisingly, I’m good with people.

But, I digress…

Funeral Home Guy (FHG) looked like he owned a funeral home.  But, again, I don’t have a type and that would not have bothered me.

What DID bother me, was that in EVERY email that he sent me he addressed me as “Precious”.  Yep, you heard that right.  All I could think of was the little dog in Silence of the Lambs… then my mind went to “it rubs the lotion on the skin, or else it gets the hose again”.  That’s when FHG creeped me the fuck out.

The emails didn’t stop, and neither did my imagination.  I’m okay with being submissive, but I’m not sure I’d be ok with being submissive in a coffin, and would he pack me in ice before we fornicated???

He also had younger children, who I imagined had lazy eyes, limps and an excessive number of fingers… and possibly licked the dead bodies after they were embalmed.

FHG eventually gave up.

I wonder if he ever met anyone?  Probably, and I’m still alone…

Here’s what I do to occupy myself on the weekends:




One of my shots from yesterday... might be my favorite.

One of my shots from yesterday… might be my favorite.

So Friday evening I shot a wedding, I was the photographer and the witness.  The only people present were me, Boom (the officiate) and the couple.  NO ONE knew they were getting married.  The ceremony took place in the pouring rain in the gazebo at Mirror Lake in Eden Park… It was a little romantical.

After the ceremony Boom and I wondered whose parents had issue with the wedding… perhaps we will never know.

I went home Friday night, went to bed and I stayed there until Sunday morning.  I wouldn’t have gotten up then if it weren’t for my Dad’s birthday and our zip lining plans.

I told everyone it was my allergies.

It wasn’t.

I was in one of those dark holes that is so fucking hard to climb out of…  every time I fall into one I wonder “Will this be the time that I’m not able to climb out?”

I, physically, climbed out Sunday morning, I even took the camera and got some shots before meeting my parents.  I couldn’t let them down, I’ve hurt them so much already in this life…

Yea, I suck.  They’re good parents, I’m just a shitty daughter… they really should have had more than one kid.

Today, there is still a black fog over everything, but I’m going with God to Yellow Springs this afternoon to photograph sunflowers… I think that sunflowers have some positive effect on people who are residing in a black hole, we shall see…

I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised that no one wants to keep me, right??



It Was Okay…

Here is the recap of the date last night…


I met him in front of the hotel that the 360 Restaurant sits atop of.  He was cuter than his photos, always a plus!

We did the obligatory hug, then wandered around the lobby a little bit until we figured out (after he asked, bonus points) where to go.


When we reached the restaurant the view was amazing!!  I’m all about a good view.


They sat us at a booth where we sat next to each other, which wasn’t uncomfortable.


We chatted easily as we perused the menu… I ordered chicken carbonara with no bacon (which always elicits shock and concern from men… it’s because of my chemo meds fyi) and he ordered a ginormous steak.


I’ll flash back a moment to a date where another guy ordered a ginormous steak… this guy was STARVING, I mean like Ethiopian starving, so I didn’t judge.  He got the steak and ate EVERY SINGLE BITE.  Still I didn’t judge.  He paid the bill and said he had to go to the restroom before we left. No problem.

He was gone FOREVER.  After about 15 minutes, I figured I had been ditched, but was thankful that he had been gentleman enough to pay the bill before he bailed on me.


I texted him “Ummmm did you ditch me?”

He texted back “Sorry, I’m still in the bathroom.”


Uh oh.


He finally came back, we left, and he had to get batteries for his camera before I took him to our next destination (a cemetery at 11p… if you’re wondering, no I never saw him again).  He was in the Walmart FOREVER… he texted me saying he was in the bathroom AGAIN.  I really felt sorry for him at that point.


We finally made it to the cemetery, I got some kick-ass photos and he only seemed to be a little weirded out… and like I said, of course, I never saw him again, which probably had more to do with the cemetery visit than his bathroom embarrassment…


So, back to last night…


I was a little nervous about his huge steak, but he ate it all and didn’t have to remove himself to the restroom for an uncomfortably long amount of time.


We talked, laughed, he didn’t do anything gross with his food, he didn’t wear too much cologne; he didn’t ask if he could nail me in the car… all in all it was a successful date for me.


We hugged again in the parking lot; he said he wanted to do it again.  Which is neither here nor there, I’ve heard that before (hell, I’ve said that before) and never saw the guy again.


He didn’t attempt to kiss me, which could be fine or it could be problematic and he didn’t tell me that I was pretty.  I don’t know if that means anything or not, but it was a little disappointing.


He did text me when he got home to tell me he had a good time and that he hoped I did too…


My date look:

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