Not In Kansas Anymore...

Click your heels, and see if home is where you hang your hat, or somewhere else inside yourself as this simple, postmodern girl takes on L.A.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

An email from my friend Jane ( somewhat exceprted, since I don't have her permission, either, although I suspect she wouldn't care), kind of made the light bulb go on for me:

Jessica, do not take responsibility for his behaviors ( that YOU somehow pushed his buttons). That is how abusive men manipulate women.

As far as his requests for needing time? ( He asked for this today...while making a case for us to try, work it out, compromise, etc.....) That is his best suggestion . Tell him to call you in a few years when he's ready to live in the solution, and accept some responsibility for his actions and reactions.

He's proven he can justify being ugly to you because of something nebulous YOU DO.

NEXT! ( I don't mean to be harsh, but well, I am...)

My response:

I don't think you're being harsh. I went away from the computer awhile tonight and prayed ( I guess that's what you'd call it. I just talk. Honestly, to Whatever's Up There. It helps). I realized that I may have some "stuff" but it is by no means on any scale of whatever it is he is reacting to. I'm a decent person. And I'm actually a pretty reasonable, flexible person when it comes to anything anyone wants to tell me or share with me. I'm not saying I'm perfect or I've always been that way, but dammit, I do pretty fuckin' well. I have good friends who love me, I have good relationships in my life. I'm sober. I work on my issues.

Granted, none of those people are currently sleeping with me, and I can be fairly needy in relationships, and sometimes, I want the other person to change so I will feel safe with them, instead of making myself feel safe. BUT you know what? He's way out there doing something that has not a damned thing to do with me. He's angry at Her and bad at anger in general, and while I can't tell him what's best for him or how he should live his life, I do know I'm stretched way too thin by this bullshit.

This is me. I can work with you, but I still only be a better ME. And I cannot do it if I'm being berated and manipulated and emotionally set on fire because you are so fucked up right now. I can't be someone else, or perfect, at all, nor should I have to be.

It's sad. He's a good man in his heart. And most of the time, he acts like one. I believe he really does love me, and genuinely wants to be with me in something deep. But I'd like to give Anger Management a call and get him in ASAP. He's lost his perspective on relationships completely. I don't know if its always been this way, or if it's just since Her, or what, or if its partially from his job....probably all of the above.

I love him, too. But I won't live afraid. A partner should be a soft place to fall, someone you know always has your back. Even if you're fighting cats and dogs, you gotta know you can find your way back to that person, and trust them. That's what I think, anyway.

So. Sorry for all the posted emails instead of real blogging, but I'm exhausted. I spend all day-- no matter what I'm doing-- feeling like shit about this and anxious and obsessing. It wears me out, and is beginning to make me resentful and angry. So I've decided this:

I'm tapped. He needs to decide if he wants to sit down and really come to a compromise or not. Within a day or so. First of all, he's leaving in less than a week and well, we're out of time. Ding! Time's up! Second of all, I realized, probably for the first time in my life, that I have control over my anxiety; I can SET LIMITS to the amount of stressors I allow in. ( I do this almost unconsciously with the depression- I'm very careful about things and watching it. I'm just realizing now that I need to treat the anxiety levels the same way. My instinct is to just "ride it out" but sometimes, you need to take flight. You know?) .

What I'm saying here is that I'm not going to get involved in some long, drawn out email session where we hem and haw and bemoan our love affair and what to do. I just can't DO it anymore. I have limits, and I need to watch my health. That's OKAY. It's OKAY. ( Big moment here, you know?)

So: We either decide to hash it out ASAP, or that's it. Just for the record, though, I am not optimistic about us coming to some kind of compromise. Unfortunately.
So my contingency plan, for MYSELF, and to take CARE of myself is this: if we can't come up with a solution I can live with, he can go back to Global Hotspot without a girlfriend, and sit there and think about what he's not got. If he thinks I'm going to sit around for 3 months in limbo- not being his partner, but hanging on a possibility!- waiting for him to come home , getting mushy-mushy emails that cure his lonliness overseas-- and admittedly, make me feel good-- but only serve to muddy up the waters of Resolution of The Big Maybe between us, ONLY TO do this all again, when he gets home, he's out of his head!!!

My original offer still stands; he comes back in December, we have coffee, and we talk. And now with this new information ( about looooove), we see how things have changed or not.

But I'm not on ice, waiting for him. NOt like I'm jumping on the Dating Train anytime soon, but I'm a free agent. So is he ( not that those hookers in That Part of The World are so appealing, I might add). If I'm not his girlfriend, then, well....I'm free to do as I choose.

Don't get me wrong. I love him, too. I haven't felt this way about someone since James, like I said. Decades. I could see a real future with this man. It's hard as hell to stand here and say, "Bye, Anthony, see you in December, platonic friend!" BUt you know, I need a break from all this roller coaster "oh!-we're-in love!- oh,no!-we're headed-for-disaster!!" thing. And that's OKAY too.

I'm OKAY. What I need is OKAY. It is going to BE OKAY. It's my job to ensure that, and while I'm scared half to death about it, I KNOW I'm going to do what's best for myself. I have to. And that's OKAY.
It's all going to be all right, no matter what. Deep breath. It is not the end of the world. Deep Breath. Let the Universe handle it as it will. Deep breath. I will be OKAY.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Deep breath. This is the sound of me breathing. I am one with the sound of me breathing ( 10 points if you can name the movie that's from...). Yes, Yes, yes. I am OKAY.

Or would a scream be better fitting? My response to today has been "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Why?

TODAY, I get an email from Anthony saying that he found earrings of mine ( true- I'd been looking for them, and wondering) and that he'd drop them off when I wasn't home if I didn't want to see him ( if you'll recall, I'd already told him I couldn't see him the rest of his leave- 10 more days- because it was too hard.). . THEN he says this: "I love you, Jessica. I really and truly do. It's taken me this long to actually realize it, and I don't know what to do about this love, now, I guess....but I just wanted it said. You've been on my mind."

I about hit the f-ing celing. I was like NOW? NOW you say it? When I TOLD you I was falling in love with you, you said it's too soon/you don't know me/ how can that be true? And then proceeded to pick a fight with me and eviscerate me verbally to the point where I'd break it off? I mean, what am I supposed to DO with that information?

Refuse to be left holding the emotional bag, that's what. I wrote him back, told him that he'd laid out quite a dillemma. On one hand, I would have told him to just drop the earrings in my mailbox when I wasn't home, and that would be that. On the other hand, he'd just finally declared his love, so it was pretty tough to be decisive. I said I loved him, too. But I closed by saying, " I love you, you love me, now what? I dont know. Do you?"and told him to drop the stuff off at a particular time I would not be home. I wished him good surfing in Venice ( since that's what he's been doing lately) and said, " I miss you", signed my name, and that was it.

I'm so pissed. I'm so upset. I know he's not CONSCIOUSLY manipulating me; I know it's because he's so messed up with himself and the Ex baggage and the job that he doesn't know what's up with his own feelings anymore. I believe the feelings are real; he's a sensitive, tender , gracious man when he's not scared out of his mind or mad. But I REFUSE to be the one who backpedals and says, "oh, baby, don't go", only to have him back up in reverse. I'm not gonna chase him down. If he REALLY wants me, then he can come out and say it, or DO SOMETHING REAL. Untill then, I'm going to have to play it like the book title says, He's Just Not That Into You. ( I think he is, but the premise of the book is that regardless, you deserve more and better than this sort of crap... so go get a guy who can appreciate you, and/or move on).

I'm just a wreck, though. I don't know how I'm gonna play it so cool. If he doesn't come around and Do The Right Thing ( which is WHAT exactly? Offer to stay here for a bit? Go into therapy in Global Hotspot? Apologize profusely for being such a total insulting dick and let me berate him for a good hour or two and hold it against him for a few months til he comes back in December and we pick up where we left off??? ) , I suspect highly he'll just chalk it up to his bad luck, some sort of Rebel Without A Cause thing, oh-I-was-doomed-to-be-alone. That will be hard, but I don't know how to make things work. And why is it on me?

Damn him for being so fucking stupid. Why doesnt he just GET it?
It's likely I won't even get to find out. And I sure as hell resent the shit out of being told how great I am and how much he loves me RIGHT as we split up and RIGHT as he's leaving the country. That's just GREAT. Thank you so much.

Enough. Enough. I have too many other things to do right now. I DID get a job and I start on Friday. It's at a little upscale boutique across from a coffee shop I love ( and he frequents when he's in town, ironically), decent pay. I got a second job organizing things for a friend of Jeannie's boss, a few times a month. I meet whomever the Counseling Center assigns me on Wednsday (just in the nick of time, I'd say....). And Griff is taking another turn for the worse right now, so I have to watch his progress. I don't need the rest of it, you know?

Man, some of this has just GOT to get easier. Count your blessings, Jess, count your blessings.....and keep moving forward. Don't get stuck in the mire. Just remember what's good, lean on who's there, and do what you know is right, and let go of the rest.
Amen to that.

Sunday, August 27, 2006


Thank YOU for struggling to talk with me last nght. I know you hate that stuff and it's hard for you. I really appreciate your sitting there and listening, and for your efforts....

I think we ended it in a good place, Tony. I felt good about you and I and what we did and proud of us being so grown-up about it, and that we were able to be kind to each other in the end. I don't know if it gets any better than that!

Thank you for letting me know how you are sad. Don't get me wrong... I'm sorry you're sad, but it's helpful to know....because you are better at smiling and seemingly shrugging it off. (I'm the one who expresses everything that comes up, can't hold it all back. Heart on sleeve, someone once said. I said , heart on sleeve makes it a better target, out in the open! Alas, though, it seems to be how I'm made. ). Sometimes it's hard to know where you're at because of that.

I'm so sorry that you have to go back to *that* place and feel this way. That's not what I wanted. Sigh. None of this was what I wanted, at all.

I wish there was a way, too. I do.

I hope someday you won't have to be alone to do this job. I hope that you can find someone who's "easier", and maybe doesn't need so much talking to deal with stuff. I'm sure you will....someone wonderful and better suited to the place you're in in your life right now, and who can make you happy, too.

Of course, I miss you too. Pretty badly. It was hard to sit on that bench and not want to snuggle into your neck and kiss you. And I have to go to work next week and look across at Aroma and think of us on our first date, laughing at the guy with the guitar. It's only been a few dates, as you keep saying, but we packed alot of love and fun and silliness and wonderful conversation in there.....

You are, of course, too, so many things: handsome and sexy, funny, intelligent and worldly. And right back atcha: YOU are a beautiful man, Anthony. And I think you're all the things that you admire in others, and you sell yourself short. I have so much faith in who you are. Well, I think I'd better stop there. The fact that I don't get to keep all this wonderfulness is making me sad.

Sigh. I'm struggling today. It's one-foot-in-front-of-the-other-and-try-stay-distracted time. If I don't, I just think about you and all the stuff I wanted to do with you, like sleep in your beautiful bed and let you laugh at how AWFUL I am in the mornings and go out to eat pancakes. Be silent and read books together. Or roll around and laugh on the floor talking about movies. Talking about anything.

Okay. That's enough of that. Big sigh.

I DO want to be friends. I don't usually want to, BTW. Everybody always tries to be friends, and it's a nightmare, or that's what I've seen and experienced. But I can't imagine not talking to you ever again or seeing you, in the flesh, knowing you're okay,at least at that moment, when you have a job like yours! So I sincerely mean it, when I say I hope we can be someday.
Right now I just need some time. I can't see you and talk to you and not want to BE with you. It's too hard, too soon. Like I said: call me in December. I MEANT it. We can meet for coffee at Aroma. (Hopefully I'll still be working across the street!). And we can talk about the bears, maybe.

Go to LACMA. GO to MOCA. Suck in as much of that good stuff, and carry it with you like lovely stones in your mind when you go back into hell. Did you ever read that children's book "Fredrick", about the mouse who does seemingly nothing while the other mice are gathering grain to for winter? Then in the darkest of winter when they're all hibernating, and the food is low, Fredrick tells them that what he was actually doing was storing up beauty for just this time. And he gives them all of his colors and sights and smells and sounds and it sustains them til they get to spring.

I hope you can do that. I know you'll try to- you're the "suck the marrow out of life" (Thoreau) guy- and I hope I at least contributed a little to that for you. I know that you did for me, with my own little wintertimes I have, sometimes. And I thank you. I truly, from the bottom of my heart, do. I am grateful and regret nothing. Not a single thing.

Be absolutely safe and come home in one piece.

Love you, too, Tony.

My friend Lynnie says this old maxim: When you are met with a foe, bless him, praise him, and let him go. I don't consider Anthony a foe, but it was something that I was able to hold in my mind during all this and it helped greatly. The above (excerpted) letter was in response to the one he sent to ME this morning, doing exactly that. Totally unsolicited, and a bit ( but not total) surprise.
I don't have his permission to put it up here in full, so I won't; that would be invading his privacy ( as I have learned the hard way, hmmm?). But to excerpt/paraphrase him, he said,

Thank you for struggling through the talk with me last night. I hope we ended it in a better place, than you were feeling about it, the night prior. I am as sad as you Hon, even though I am better (maybe) at smiling and seemingly shrugging it off. I woke up this morning, missing you and very very sad, that we're not going to be together.

(I guess my "read" on him in retorspect was not so off after all.)

He goes on to say he wished he knew how to make it work. He follwed with saying and describing a great many nice and lovely things about me, and how much he appreciated all of them. He hoped that I would soon get over this and find someone good. He closed with:

Maybe, one day, it won't be "weird" to be friends. That would be nice. We never made it to the LACMA, or anywhere else.
Love you Jessica,

(I still don't get why he's now able to say, "love you", except that it's easier to admit to when he's not on the spot. )

The whole thing was very kind, sweet and sincere; it's the man I know him to be, outside of the one full of anger and trauma/broken-ness and verbally abusive tendencies.Sadly, the good comes with the bad. I don't judge it too harshly ( right now, anyway!), as we all get through our shit in one way or another and this is how he's plodding through his. I can't live with it, but it doesn't mean I don't care and feel deeply for him just the same.

See, that's the rub about love, something I discovered with the man I almost married, James: you can love someone as deep as the ocean, and if you can't figure out how to live together or communicate properly or all those things that make relationships go, then it's null and void. It seems it shouldn't have to be that way, and I know we've all been brainwashed by movies to think it conquers all. It doesn't. It's fuel to the fire on an engine that is the WORK part of your relationship, but if you can't the work part to run, it's a dead train, you know?

Well, anyway. One, two, three, and we're out. I'm sad. And totally fucking exhausted. I don't know if I'll be on this bike again soon or not. I'm really looking forward to working, which is a place to go every day and something to do, and life moving forward. Right now, like I said, it's one-foot-in-front-of-the-other time, and I cannot talk about this or think about it all the time right now, anymore. I have to pick up my life.

Which is what I'm learning to do best. Wish I didn't have to learn it so often, but now I know I can. And at least I'm grateful for that.

So that's it, we're done. We broke it off tonight, after I had spent all day just absolutely miserable. I knew it was what I had to do, but the more the day wore on, the more weepy I got about it.

Then there were the emails. All "I'm sorry" and "I miss you" and "I'm thinking of you alot " and finally, one he signed, "Love you, hon. I really do." That one put me over the edge. Why? Because I hit some sort of wall inside myself that was like, "I can't DO this anymore." I'm fucking wrung out from the huge horrible ugliness of yesterday, and can't even get it together to leave the house, and crying and all this shit, and after informing me last night that he really thinks I might be better off with someone else, driving it home, making sure I understand, WELL after I told him , "you know, I think I'm falling in love with you", and reminding me today to "think about what I said", NOW he says, "love you." ???

Doesn't that beat all? I just had this image in my head of this thing being pushed and pulled between us, and I'm always the one left holding the emotional bag. Does that make sense? I doubt it, but I just felt like, every time I step out and away and try to put my foot down and set a boundary for MYSELF, he's on me like a sad pup. I'm sorry for all that mess. I'm missing you. I can't stop thinking of you. I want to snuggle with you. I'm going to quote this love song. I'm going to say something suggestive of growing love for you.

I don't think he means to be manipulative, I don't think he's conscious of it, I don't even know what it all means, really. I doubt he does himself. I just know I don't know, because he's Mr. Mystery Man, where every time I think I know what's going on, we're "Just Dating", or "you're being pushy" or "I don't like....." Ugh.

If I had to harbor a guess, I think it's when he feels vulnerable or put on the spot at any time, with any kind of demands to declare his feeling or behave or WHATEVER, he pushes away, gets defensive, gets cagey. And then when he sees me back off and get remote because I don't want to play games, he just can't bear it. I DO think it comes from genuine feeling, versus just sick thrill out of seeing me suffer or enjoying the game. I don't think he enjoys it. I can see it on his face, and I can see it when he's upset about something that's gone wrong. I just think he doesn't know what else to do, and HAS to be in control all the time. Absolutely fucking has to. I think he probably feels way too vulnerable if he's not.

Says the pot, calling the kettle black. I know. I know. I was advised that this might say this would end up being a power struggle for Who's In Charge? Once again, those who said as much were right. I can say ( in that oh-so-snide-and-self-righteous-way) that I was willing to share it. I conceded alot. I'm trying ot handle my vulnerable times better. Hell. I'm going back to therapy to do it.

So anyway, I couldn't take it anymore and just called him and he came over. I told him I hated the way he talked to me. I told him it was rude and demeaning and insulting, the whole thing. That there wasn't one thing I felt I could have done right last night- be submissive, be dominant, ask how he's feeling, tell him how I am, fight with him, sit and listen, try and paraphrase, try not to paraphrase and use exact words, try not to fight at all, NOTHING worked. And that I didn't know how to talk to him in conflict. I didn't know how. And that I just couldn't figure it out, didn't know what to do. But that I never wanted to do *that* again.
That's when he decided to start Round Two, by asking, "why are you telling me this?"

Me: I thought you might want to know how I was feeling, like you might care?
Him: What do you want me to do with that information?
Me: Well, I thought it MIGHT go toward fixing some damage.
Him: How are we gonna do that, Jess? How do we do that?
Me: Well, I guess we figure out how to talk to each other, or try understand where the other one is coming from. Clearly, I may have been mistaken on that.
Him: There's no trying here! We are too different. You really need someone to be able to work this shit out with you like this. I have no interest in it. I did that for 4 years with my ex and I have cut that part out of myself, you know? I am just tapped out with it. I have nothing left to give in that way.....I'm so sick and tired of that, I would rather die alone. I mean it.
Me: Okay, then, I guess we're done.
Him: That's what I'm saying.
Me: I got it.
Him: I mean, seriously. If this is a part of relationships, as they work, then I want no part of it. I have never seen this "talking it out, and you said and I said and I felt and blah blah blah" thing work. Have you?
Me: Yup. Works pretty well, actually. Not in this situation, apparently, and last night was an instance that it doesn't work. It doesn't always work. But I've had it work alot.
Him: I have NEVER seen it work, or produce progress. I have sat in seminars, read books on it, tried it, and it always ends up like it did last night.
Me: Hmmm. I hear you.
Him: I mean, you can say it works with your friends, Jessica, but they're not fucking you, they're not in this kind of relationship with you.
Me: True.
Him: I just can't STAND it. I cannot deal with it. I mean, I know I was an ass in there last night, I didn't help things get better. But whenever anyone- ANYONE- starts coming at me with some kind of construct or an "I said/you said/what I meant was/no what I mean was this" I guess I have this raw nerve. I have this visceral reaction and I cannot do it. I cut that part out of myself with a rusty knife like a spoke out of a wheel. I will. NOT. do it.
Me: How do you solve things, then, Anthony? I'm honestly asking. I think there alot of ways to solve problems in relationships, or conflicts. Talking it out is one way. There are others. I'm not saying its the only way. What's another way you like to use? What else works?
Him: I don't know. I haven't a clue. All I know is that I can't do this. And I could be totally wrong and die alone. But that's where I am right now. And I think you need someone to be different than that.
Me: You're right. I do. So.
Him: So.
Me: That's it. We're done.
Him: Okay then.
Me: It makes me sad.
Him: Why does it have to?
Me: Because I liked you! I had feelings for you! I had hopes!
Him: I liked you too, I had hopes too! But I know that we're in two different places, and we tried and it failed, and that's it.
Me: Yeah, well, that's sad.
Him: It is what it is. Life and death. That's all there is. The rest is just what we put in between.

This was followed by a lengthy rant on how he "wasn't really part of this world, anymore, anyway", as he was living like "an exile, gone and back, gone and back." I could practically hear the subscript: "I'm a loner, Dottie, a rebel...." from "Pee Wee's Big Adventure". And upon reflection, I saw him compartmentalizing it all away so he could leave it behind and feel nothing. Except I notice with him, that never really works. He puts it into a box called "Live While You're Alive and Enjoy It, Dammit" and then gets more and more pissy and distant.

EX: He wanted to know if I wanted to be friends, and I said, probably, as I genuinely liked him, but I didn't really wanna see him anymore while he was home. But I told him to sit a bit and chat and tell me what was up for him next. He did, but it was like asking him to do dentistry, and included another defensive rant on how he could get blown up tomorrow, so it doesn't really matter, etc. This from the man who isn't sad, or Mr. "That's It".
I finally turned it around by telling him how much I believed in his talents and gifts to the world, and how I had faith that it would come together for him, the artmaking, the warrior archetype, all of it. He said, "Thank you for saying that. " He got up to leave and I said, "hey, now. I need some time. I can't see you for the rest of your stay, but..." ( "I know. I know. You said that. I know." ) " me when you get in in December and tell me how you're doing. PLEASE be safe. Don't get blown up. I'll keep you in my prayers, for what that's worth to you, and know that someone in the States cares about what happens." I leaned in to hug him, and he hugged me back and said, "Be happy, honey. Just be happy. Life's too short." I said I would and he left.

I wondered if I just brought it home to him that he can't have The Girl and The Job, and if he was feeling a bit resigned to his life and if he was sad about it. You kinda had to be there to listen to him talk the way he was to know why I ponder that; it's certainly not out of arrogance believing he was madly in love. There's no answering it, I know, and I could stand around wondering. I probably will. But I doubt if I'll ever know. I don't even know what it meant to him, really. I believe he genuinely cared and certainly liked me a great deal. Beyond that, the truth lives inside of him and it's unlikely we'll ever get it out.

As for me, I'm hella sad. I'm heartbroken. I see now all the guys this year who came before him, as skinned knees. This one went deep. I don't get connections like that often. But as he said to my saying that, "just because there's a connection doesn't mean it's going to work." ( Thank you for stating the obvious, Mr. Men-Are-From-Mars, et al.) . I miss him already. In a twisted way, its sorta lucky for me he doesn't even live here half the time. I don't even have to worry about THAT awkwardness or any wacked out attempts at reconciling in an "I May Hate Myself In the Morning, But I'm Gonna Love You Tonight" country-song kinda way. Clean break.

It sucks nonetheless, and I know it's gonna be awhile. Sadly, I'm getting used to it.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

A letter I wrote to Sassy. I think it sums it all up. I don't feel like going through writing again, so forgive my lazy repeat. I'm spent, understandably, I'd say. And if you want to call me and comment, I don't want to psychoanalyze it. I don't want an " I told you so, why didn't you see this coming?" I want you to understand that I went into this with open eyes, and was as careful as I felt was warranted. I used my judgement. I am not an idiot, and if you try to make me feel bad for taking the first risk I have in decades on someone I felt deserved it, I will likely turn on my heel and disappear. I did the very, very best that I could and I reality-checked many things along the way with people I trust, including professionals. I gave it a chance, full well knowing the possible limitations, and issues that might prohibit its survival. I don't regret it. But it failed anyway, and there's not much to be done. It is what it is.

And what I need right now is a hug. As many hugs as possible, and just some love from my friends. Time. Distraction. And even more hugs. That's all. If you think you can manage it.

Anyway. On with the show:


Live fast, die young, that's what they say, so I guess I've seen it to be true. Anthony and I are least that's my decision, anyway.

We got into it big time tonight, and short of a complete attitude change and some seriously grovelling apologies ( that are sOOOOOO not forthcoming, I can pretty much assure you) I don't see this going anywhere anymore. He's so impossible to deal with when there's any conflict. Even if I try everything I know, I cannot get to the place he needs me to be in ( which is essentially not making a mistake about his intentions, motives or emotions in a situation). He refuses to even come to consider the place I need him to be in, which is not so mean and escalated when he's pissed, and willing to talk things out.

This discovered after 4 hours of straight mind-fucking (him) and and arguing ( me) and just ending up on the front porch of my house, with him yelling, "you need to think about what kind of man you want, Jessica, because if you need *this* ( referring to any of what he calls "the proccess- the big bullshit chain of stuff where you say how you felt and I say how I felt and then we say how it affected us and we rewind and we decide to do blah blah blah. Total crap.") I am not the guy for you. I cannot give it to you. I don't WANT to give it to anyone. It's not you, it's that I am so PAST all that, I could go a hundred years without visiting *that* place again. I think you need all that. Not there's anything wrong with you for it ( this he says after basically telling me how screwed up it is and rolling his eyes and being insulting about any alternative action to this stupid conflict I might offer), but it's not me."
I got really pissed and said, "Anthony, you need to think about what kind of girl you want, because if you want allllllll of *this* ( pointing to my boobs and ass and lips, which he adores) and smarts and great conversation and great fucking and closeness and intimacy and all that stuff, you're going to have to do a little of *that*. Good luck finding a girl who will just give it all to you and not need a damned thing for herself." He looked at me and said, "Don't be so fucking arrogant. You think I can't find that? Please. And if I can't, I'd rather jack off the rest of my life than deal with any of this psychoanalytic bullshit." I just went in and slammed the door.

Clearly that last exchange was terribly ugly, and I regret setting myself up for a slam by being arrogant. But the bottom line, Sassy, is this: you were right. You said to me when he first came home and before he and I had gone out that it sounded to you like he wanted to not ever deal with conflict while he was away, and that was semi-understandable, if a little unrealistic; you also pointed out that while he was home it seemed like he just wanted to decompress and not deal with any of it then, either. At the outset of all of this, we had a big conversation before we even slept togethter where I pointed out this dichotomy to him and he steadfastly denied it. "No, no, " he said, " it doesn't have to be Constant Happy Fun Time for Tony all the time. That wouldn't be fair. We can talk things out. " And we did, a little. Then he went off to visit his mom in Ohio last week,and I said to him when he got back, "before you run off to Global Hotspot again, we need to clear up all that shit and come up with a way to communicate with each other that's better." He was cool with that.

We were going to do it this weekend. THEN he got a call today from his boss giving him his flight info to come back today. And he was tense all fucking day. We went to dinner, super on the defensive and irritable. He essentially picked this fight, and then picked apart my attempts to clear it up, and it all seguewayed badly into Everything Else.
What I realize now ( 7 or so hours too late) was that he just realized today that he's running out of time. He's got 11 days before he goes back... and all the decomprerssing he gets to do before he goes back to Hell needs to be put crammed in and anything problematic or even intimate needs to be pushed away.
( Earlier this week we had a bit of a tiff, if you'll recall, about What Is This Relationship?, a whole other set of coordinates that basically had me hearing that even though we're a.) fucking b.) emotionally intimate c.) he told his mom about me, and d.) hanging out on regular basis, involving dates where he pays, etc, I'm not his girlfriend. Ahem. Okay, then what are we ? "Just Dating". Um, sure. I'm going to spend the next 3 months waiting around and celibate and not date any other person for "Just Dating"???


I didn't express all my disdain at once, I just said, "I don't want to get into this now since you just got off plane, but I would like for you to consider, over the next few days, exactly what I am being offered in return for this thing I am about to do. I'm pretty sure if we're "just dating", you're gonna have to ratchet that offer up, a bit. I'm not saying we pick out china, or we even plan our vacations together. I'm just saying a middle ground between Super Serious and Just Dating needs to be considered." He grunted his assent to think it over, but I could tell he was Not Happy.).

In essence, he's gearing up to go back, and I think this is his way of doing it. 'I'm going to pull away, I'm going to pick fights, I'm going to invoke my right to Only Good Stuff and Take It before they get me back, goddammit. And everyone else can kiss my ass.'

Most telling of all: I asked him what he wanted from me tonight ( in this relationship), and his answer? "To be quiet". He tried to backpedal a bit so it didn't sound so harsh, or retro, but I thought, hmmmm. What an interesting choice of words. If I were your therapist, the next thing out of my mouth would be, "Anthony, what an interesting choice of words. Why did you choose them? What do they mean?" At which point he would have started breaking furniture or something, I'm sure.

To be quiet. No. I cannot. When in my life have I ever been quiet? Let me rephrase. When in my life when I have had to be quiet to keep someone else placid and a relationship happy has it EVER panned out well?

So. You were right. He wants a girl with whom he does not have to do any work with whatsoever, or not really, anyway. Talking things over is fine. As long as we move past it in a few quick strokes, he's okay. But anything more protracted or difficult than that and he's on his feet ready to hit the door.

The ironic thing is, he wants all this love, intimacy, sex, closeness, you know, the Big Stuff. "A real relationship", as he puts it. He's so fucking happy when we're laughing and kissing and hanging out and looking at books and just talking about everything, it's ridiculous. He's like a teenager. He wants to touch me all the time and buy me stuff and pay for everything and make sure I have enough water and am I too cold and I should lock my doors better, and here, baby, let me get that. Not to overshare, but even in bed it's all 'what do you need?' "what can I do for you?' ( I'm tellin' ya, I'm gonna miss that. Whew.). He's so happy that he wants to make me happy and he's love love love drunk. (But get him pissed and you just do not want to know him. I'm

serious. I haven't been talked to like this in....decades.) He wants all the Real Stuff so much, I can see it. And maybe he'll find a girl who be able to give him all that and not need what I need. It's entirely possible.

I'll even concede it: I don't like the 4 hour arguments, either, for the record. But I do believe in a little post-morbid to clean shit up. I like to move it through as quickly as possible, but sometimes when things suck, really really bad, it takes a bit of work to either shut up and ride it out til it gets better, or to really have it out til you're done, and put it to bed. Still, there are times when I get a little stuck on the "proccess" and should let more go. ( I even SAID that, and asked how he WOULD like to handle things in the future, could we meet in the middle somewhere finding a way to communicate....which led to an ugly diatribe about how scripting things out like that was just "ridiculous" and "I'm just more primitive than that. People need to listen more to their instincts and stay closer to the animal side." Hmmm... because that's working so well right now and you're yelling at me? Um, no.) Maybe there will be a much simpler, easier girl for him to find who's not so headstrong and easy-going and even-tempered. Who knows?

But I'll tell you what's not: It's not possible for him to find that with this job of his. Basically, it's All About It and All About Tony. To do what he does, he has to keep everything contained in himself to such an extent that he doesn't get much of a chance to work on any of his garbage. Because if he didn't keep it together, I think his anger and his feelings of whatever would spill out into his work and they. Just. Cannot. He can't go off deal with the possibilities of being blown up by a car bomb while he's trying to work out his shit about not getting a pony when he was 10 ( as he likes to put it) lest he snap and lose it and mayhem occur. He can't go off on a job where he's got to be alert and sight checking front, back, side to side, every fucker within sight for suspicious activity ( he does this still when he's home out of habit and it's very, very interesting to observe. The other night he told me the waiter we had was sweating for no reason, since he only had a minimum of tables, didn't look us in the eye and was left handed. I wouldn't have noticed all that if someone would have had a gun to my head. I just noticed he didn't bring bread to the table!) when he's distracted by something his girlfriend said that was upsetting. If he does lose his focus, everybody gets bitten. People die.

And when he's home, he needs to be totally in control of what he wants to do when, and be at peace to keep his fucking sanity. Honestly, I think it's the only thing that keeps him able to do this job, is having this month where he just totally lays down his arms and is responsible for next to nothing.

There's not an inch of room for a girl in there unless it's a shallow thing. There's just not.

The thing that pisses me off the most is that he has a failure of insight about these very things. So smart, so deep, such a big thnker, and yet.... he doesn't seem to be aware of How His Job Controls Every Part of His Life. He knows it's bad; he knows it's hard on anyone whom he's going to be with, but it's like he thinks that the "bad" part of the equation is just the fact that he's gone and someone will miss him. He thinks "bad" is the fact that he's limited in what he can offer someone with this job in terms of time and attention.
What he fails to understand is that he's not emotionally available, EVER because of what it takes to do this. He vascillates from being *somewhat* aware of this, and actually saying it, to saying things that are like are hopeful about being able to get this relationship ( and the aforementioned behavior). I don't know- but it makes me wonder if this whole thing with me was just some Cosmic Wake-Up Call saying , Anthony. You cannot have your cake ( $150,000 a year) and eat it too.
He also flat out denies any garbage he's carrying around about the Ex. Yet he goes on and on about how The Ex was so "therapy,so 12-step, so pseudo-deep, and my GOD, everything had to be analyzed to DEATH. I would rather DIE alone than live like that again. I cannot DO it." Okay, I get that. I'm not asking you to do that. But you're so angry and tired and burnt out from her that you can't see the difference, or any value in anything she's left you behind, even though, yes, she was a total, messed up, cowardly wench. But whenever I say, Anthony, there's a big difference between being in therapy or a 12-Step program and working on your shit, and being in therapy and a 12-Step Program and using it as an excuse to get away with atrocious behavior, applying it ad nasueam to relationships inappropriately, and using to beat your partner into submission about the Right Way to do Stuff. Did he hear that? Nope. Not EVEN.

And who knows if he'll take the call from the Clue Phone? More than likely he'll just try and find someone to replace me and date and fuck and be with and make it all about Me Being So Needy. Or, if he's feeling kind, try and find someone to replace me and date her and fuck her and say, "well, we just Weren't Right for Each Other." He's supposed to be going on an extended break in March, so maybe he'll have enough time on his hands then to have an Epiphany or something.

But I'm DONE, Sassy. He could come to my door with a dozen roses and a million kisses and it will be a hard, hard thing to turn him down, but I'm going to do it ( if he doesn't get to do it first. I suspect that it will be a photo finish on the end of the race, here). I am terrrifically sad, because you know how you think if you meet someone on the internet, they're not in any way gonna be that cool in real life? Well, he was better than I ever could have predicted. We are an amazing fit. A match that is so great, so perfect that you look at it and go, "whoa, kismet. Total kismet. No WAY these two people could find each other in this huge world and over the internet!" It's a little spooky; we had this running joke where one of us would say, "well, I think this about this one thing...." and the other would say, "oh I totally agree!" and then the first one would say, "yeah. Big surprise." And we'd smile. It was STUPID how compatible we were. Just STUPID. And now it's all down the drain. It's heartbreaking. Like I said to you, I haven't been in love like this since James. 12 years ago??? And its tanking and there's nothing to be done. Nothing will fix it. He is where he is in his life, and it's unlikely to change anytime soon. And the same for me.

And I have to say the words, "Anthony, you know how I feel about you. I care about you very much. But I think given where you are and where I am about these things and the shape of your life as it is formed by your work, this is not going to work out. You're an amazing, fascinating man, and despite the conflict, all the good stuff stays with me and has made me pretty happy. I thank you for that. Please stay safe, and know I'll keep you in my prayers. And when you get that time off in March, feel free to call. You're welcome on my doorstep anytime. "

And then I am going to go get a big birthday cake ( I love birthday cake- not sure why) and eat it. Yes, eating my feelings. But I can't drink, and fuck, well.....

Okay, I'm done now. I don't expect you to respond to all of it. I jsut need a hug. I really do. I'm so tired and sad.

Much love,

ps: ran out of money to send you stuff in the mail. But will be returning all of A's birthday gifts, soo.....soon. I even have it in the envelope, so soon. And I got a great job today ( A sidebar: *fingers crossed!*) so for sure.

And that's the story, Larry. I'm hanging in, and hoping that the job will be a lovely distraction. Good night, and good luck. We all surely need it. But I need it especially. Thank you.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Mmpfpmff. Tired. Long assed day. Long, rotten week. One of those weeks you put alot into and get little out of, and hope it pays off in the end. Went on job interview. Then drove across to the other end of the known universe to do my therapy intake. Then went to group. Then to the store. Came home after 5 hours in and out of the car and fed cats, who had been patiently waiting.

All this after having a totally rotten night with Anthony yesterday. He went to visit his mom in Ohio, and he got back last night. Called me to meet up for dinner. He was exhausted, but glad to see me, and I was glad to see him. We were talking about random crap last night when the conversation wandered into this area of What Is This Relationship, Exactly?, never a great place to go when one of you is tired from cross-country travel. Essentially, he said what I DIDN'T want to hear, which was that right now, he's not even thinking of where this is going, and is just happy to be letting it unfold. I didn't say anything, but he saw the change on my face and asked what was up. I said, " well. Hmm. I think that if you're going back to Hotspot in two weeks and you want me to sit here on ice and not see anyone else for 3 months it's going to have to be something more than 'Just Dating'. I'm not asking for a ring, or to even plan your life around what I do next, I'm just SAYING. Think about what you're asking me to do, and think about what that means, please." He got the picture and said he would, and did I want to talk about it more? I did not. I was already too pissed.

I mean, PLEASE. WTF?? This whole situation with him is the definition of the word "dichotomy". If you look that up in the dictionary, you'll see a photo of me and him, waving at you like in "Harry Potter". Because of this stupid effing job of his, the whole shape and course of things in their natural progression gets wildly distorted. We're intimate and crazy about each other and I'm going to wait for 3 months til I can see him again. But, no, we're Just Dating. We have these intense discussions about things that piss us off, and it's like we're already IN a serious relationship, but I run out of fingers trying to count the number of times he's said, "sometimes when we fight, I think, 'why bother'?" or "Maybe I shouldn't BE in a relationship at all. I don't know how to make it work when I have to have this kind of job." It's like "make the most of the time I'm home!!!" but "let's see how things develop!!!" Okay, Anthony, are you in or are you out?
And what I figured out today is that I've been the one sort of holding it together, pursuing him and making it work, and worrying, while he's over there kicking back sending mixed messages. It's not like he's a villian, here; he just wants it both ways- he wants it to be new and slow and developing, but he wants it to be full of love and close and deep. He wants to go to work and pursue a new relationship. Meanwhile, I'm doing yoga poses in my head trying to figure out how to make it happen. Because The Job Rules All, and he hasn't figured out yet the kind of pressure it puts on his partner or the relationship itself to keep it.

Which I will be telling him, shortly; have no doubt about it.

I got home last night and just about hit the ceiling. I felt like, well, you know what? Fuck it. I can't be keeping this together on my own. Your turn. Make it worth my while, you know? Put both feet in, at least. Maybe it's time you did a little to show me that you wanna DO this for real, and start holding the other end of the rope.

It's all too much, I think, for anyone, this sort of deal. It's not his fault; I don't blame him or his temporary stupidity about matters, as much as it upsets me. Dating is hard enough without some whacked-out time frame imposed upon courtship and committment. We have to do two things at once all the time: try and be normal and try and fit it all in. For awhile there I thought it was just me, but I realize now it's the situation, too. And that he's likely just as confused, when he has the headspace to think about it.

I don't know. I don't know what to do except try to talk it out, which we're supposed to do this weekend. It's all very sad for me, because frankly, from what I can tell, this guy is really, really greatly possibly The Guy. I could so see myself marrying him and being very, very happy. But I don't know if that's even going to have a shot of happening if I can't get straight with him about How To Manage This Deal. How can I end up married to some guy if I am so frustrated with the scenario we're in RIGHT NOW???

God, it's all so wacked, it's going to take an Act of Nature to sort it all out. Goddammnit.

That's exhausting enough, and as of yet: no job. Jesus! I just want the story to change a little, and not be so predictably disappointing and depressing. Is that too much to fucking ask??? Apparently so.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

FINALLY, a blog. It has to be short, because I'm wicked tired. A few quick updates:

Job: not yet. Got a few leads. A boutique in Touloca Lake wants to talk to me. They're this little upscale private shop. I like their stuff, although I can't afford it. Its quiet in there, and pretty basic. I figure I could handle it.

Went and worked ONE day at the Chain Florist. It was like working at McDonald's compared to Satan's Flower Shop Haute Cuisine. I'm used to upscale, high-maintainence, event-oriented things. This is like the whole FTD, put-alot-of-cheap-shit-in-there-to fill-it-out situation. Very tacky. ( I've apparently developed an eye for this kind of thing!). At any rate, that didn't bother me- after all, I'm just there to get paid, not be the Aesthetic Police. But the job is very wire-transfer heavy, with all these complicated systems I had no clue about. And the woman that hired me said she agreed to pay me what I was making at the other Shop based on her assumption that she wouldn't have to train me much. Obviously, that wasn't the case. She offered to let me stay at an enormous cut in pay and learn, but I politely declined. It was barely above minimum wage, and I just can't see investing that kind of time for so little return when I could be out looking for work instead. She paid me, and I left, no hard feelings.

I do have a bit of money in my pocket, so I'm not gonna die or anything ( thanks mom). I need to pay my phone bill ( f#$#%%ing SBC, those capitalistic bastards!!), but other than that, I'm okay. Gas in my car, food in my fridge, cats fed, etc. I can afford to coast a bit to look around. Especially if I have interest from other places and leads on other options....

Love Life: Man From Global Hotspot came home. Called me, after I emailed and said, "oh come on, let's just meet and stop the drama, and see what's there!" And WHOA. What was there was ALOT. We just clicked right away, talking for like 8 hours straight. The first time we went out, he picked me up at 5:30, and we had dinner ( and attempted to go to a play, but we missed it), and we just gabbed til about 1am. Then he kissed me, and AHEM. He didn't leave the house til 4am. Let's just say I used some restraint but there were some serious sparks.
And later on in the week, when I saw him the area I know you're all waiting for.... YES, THE DRY SPELL HAS ENDED!!! WOOHOOO!
Throw me a parade, I got laid. And it was great (like 6 hours or so of not getting out of bed great. Can't get much better.... ) I am such a nicer, mellower person now, it's truly unbelievable.
Ahhh. Relief. I feel like a new woman!

As for the emotional side, I am one smitten kitten. I just adore this man, he's such a sweetheart and so attentive and smart and kind. I'd like to keep him, if he'll let me. It's a bit hard, since he'll be going back to Global Hotspot Sept .7, only to return in December. I feel as though I have to cram all this courtship in before he goes, and it sucks. He's got other stuff to do while he's home, too, and there has to be this balance between that and me, whom he was NOT prepared for.
I think it freaks him out that suddenly, there's this girl in his life that he really, really likes. His life is so directed by his work, and he often wonders aloud if he should even be attempting a relationship while he's doing this, since it's so hard on the partner, and he's so limited in the ways he can be present even emotionally. I can see him wrangling with fitting me in, because what he really wants in his heart, is a partner. It's a bit hard, though, meeting someone online and having to parcel out building something in segments. It would be easier if he were just home for a bit, developed the relationship and THEN left. There'd be more solid ground to stand on. But that's not what we've got to deal with, and so....

Well, here's hoping. I'm awfully attached to him already, and I really want this one to work out. Fingers crossed....

Mental health, Hearth, Home, Etc.: Griffin is still wasting away, although he's still his regular cranky spirited self. He hasn't attempted to bite me since that one time, so I'm hoping some wise adjustments on my part ( he starts gettin crazy, and I don't restrain. I just stop treatment.) will be a good middle ground for us to get through this stage. It's amazing to me he's still holding on. I thought end of summer....and here we are. Of course things could change quickly, I know.
Angel is fine and fat and furry. Hating hot weather. Frequently lays under fan, belly up, legs spread wide open. If there were "Hustler" for cats, I think I'd submit it....

Supposed to be getting a therapist shortly. I am so relieved about this, I can't even say. I have to go through intake, but I am hopeful someone can help. Frankly, at this point, I'm not even too picky anymore. I just really need to go, and their training will have to be good enough. We'll have to figure out the PTSD stuff together, and hopefully, jsut improve this mess of shit in my head enough to make my life work again. I've been mired in the same stuff forever, and I need to clear it out. R is helping fund this, so Big Props to R. Somehow he always saves me when I'm down. (Smooches!). It's such a blessing to have friend like that....I don't know what I would do without him...

I really want to come home in October, and see the leaves change. That's my hope. Go to the pumpkin patches, take some pictures and have a drive out to the bluffs to see the the Fall Spectacle. God, I miss the seasons.

WEll, I'm 0ut of milk, I gotta get up and babysit Joannie tomorrow, and I'm falling asleep at the keyboard. I know it's not the most scintillating writing, but at least it's an update. Til next time...big "Dating Game" show kiss : (::leaning back, turning slightly to wind up arm to throw kiss::) MUAH!! *cue cheesy fade out music*....

Friday, August 11, 2006

He BIT me. My cat bit me. Griffin BIT me.

In his defense, he can't speak, so I guess it was one way to get the point across. But I've had him for 13 fuckin' years, did he have to clamp down and not let go? It HURT. It drew blood. I had to call the ER to see if I needed a shot ( I don't, but I probably need antibiotics, they say. Sigh.). Now my heart's racing like a rabbit and I want to cry, but I can't.

I was giving him subQ fluids, which he hates. Sometimes he struggles with me more than others, ( because I have to hold him down or else he'll bolt), but we've had worse nights than this one. God knows I've been scratched all to hell, but I take that as part of the deal. And recently, because he's really been resisting, I've made the executive decision to let him go and not force the proccess if he's really fighting. Consider it kitty hospice- I don't want to have the last few weeks, months, whatever of his life be so miserable because I'm prolonging it. He's old, he's sick, and I'm not gonna MAKE him stay alive just for me. Still, I make the effort because the effort is there to be made, and it makes him more comfortable physically when his kidneys aren't backing up toxins into his body.
But tonight he struggled for a bit, then sat there, THEN reached his head around and chomped down HARD on the base of my thumb, right there where it joins the fat part of my hand. And he wouldn't let go till I let go of him, which I was having a hard time doing, since I was trying to get his jaws unclenched. Finally I let him go, needle still in him, and he made a run for the bathroom door ( which is where we do this treatment). I had to quickly regain myself so I could pull the line out of his skin before he hurt himself trying to run away with it.

It took a good couple of minutes of my catching my breath on the bathroom floor before I could go find him. When I did, there he was in his Treat Spot ( he gets a treat every night after fluids, no matter how bad he's been, just for being brave).

Needless to say, he did NOT get a treat. He got a smack on the muzzle for biting mom and a stern admonishment to Not Ever Bite Mom. Which he KNOWS! I don't think he's ever REALLY bitten me. I mean, I've been nipped at, because, well, *sigh*. Griffy has always been a little hard to handle. He's got a very wild temperment, and always has. I have enough stories about things he's killed, tried to kill or hunt or capture or just DO in general to fill up a book. Corny enough, he's really wild at heart ( and not that terrible David Lynch movie). My old vet back in St. Louis who just loved him ( they always DO- he's so funny and handsome and has such a strong personality) still wouldn't ever give him shots or try to do any sort of procedures on him unless he was knocked out. SERIOUSLY. And these are trained professionals! The nurses loved him too, but flat out refused to handle him after a certain point unless he was at least sedated. Needless to say, my vet bills for even routine visits were never cheap.

But he's never been BAD. This was just plain Bad Cat Behavior. Or......SICK cat behavior? I don't know what to make of it. Except that he really, REALLY doesn't want fluids anymore.

Of course, to add to my injury, there had to guilt for a little insult. After I smacked him on the nose, he went to the living room and threw up EVERYWHERE. He must have been really upset by the whole thing. Sheesh. I felt like the biggest heel. Of course.

So, I bandaged myself up, cleaned up the carpet and found him hiding under my desk. I patted him on the head gingerly which he let me do ( he usually understands when he's in trouble, and when I'm coming to make peace). I said, "Buddy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're sick. I'm sorry I have to hold you down to give you medicine. I know you hate it. And I'm sorry I smacked you on the nose and upset you. But you can't bite mom. You just can't. From now on, though, I'll listen better when you tell me the first time you don't wanna sit for fluids. Okay?" And then I let him get up and pass me, which is our little sign of "it's okay". He stopped and wanted to be petted and I did.

I don't know where he is now, ( probably peeing on my shoes) but man, I don't know how to handle this. I mean, I can only do so little before it's a very quick slide downhill. And I want to do what's right, and what he wants, mediated with common sense. I just never thought it was going to have to be so hard.

Monday, August 07, 2006

I have $.78 in my wallet and two job interviews tomorrow.

The 78 cents will be the only money I will have untill the beginning of next month unless I start selling stuff.

One of the jobs is at a hair salon, being a receptionist. I went to the 99 Cent store today to look for hair dye since my roots are grown out so far the gray is showing. ( Yes, I have gray hair. Quite alot of it. I have had a big white streak in my hair- kinda like Rogue in "X-Men"- since my late 20s. It's still there, only now I have silver all throughout. My grandma went totally gray at 26 so I guess it's genetic. My brother does NOT have Gray Grandma's hair, the little bastard got lucky and got Irish Grandpa's natural curls- the other side of the family.Gasp! Maybe I AM a mutant!). Didn't find anything.... and Dee can't do my hair ( she does it for free- a $260 value! Free!) til Thursday. And I have to go try and get a job at a hair salon with *this* head o' hair. I'm going to have to do some creative styling, to say the least.

The other job is in a floral outfit here in Burbank. They're a cheapo chain, but frankly, I don't have any pride anymore! I think I'm a shoe-in for it; the head girl there said the fact that I had experience was "sooooo awesome!!" and that her manager would be excited. Christ, I hope so. It's within walking distance of my house.

Man, even I'M bored with my life being this broke. I have cleaned the enitre house, top to bottom. There isn't a dust bunny alive in here. Next thing you know I'll be washing the curtains (hmmm.....) and starting home-improvement projects. I've already been fashioning de-facto geriatric beds out of cushions and old towels for Griffin, who, while hanging in there, is old and needs squishy things for the old bones to sit on. He's thrilled. Meanwhile, I'm losing my mind.
I might have to start flossing more than once a day, or write a novel or something. Or start in on cleaning the yard.

The heat has finally broken, in more ways than one. It's back to actually pleasant and cool at night, breezy and sunny during the days, thank god. I can't tell you what a huge relief it is to be able to leave my house again, and not feel like Death In a Fatsuit because of the heat. It was actually 116 one Saturday recently! 116!

And in other heatwave news, the boy is toast. Or at least I'm pretty sure he is. We had a bit of a scuffle when something he said triggered some PTSD thing of mine, which did not go over well. Somehow, he thinks its personal when something like that happens, and decided to behave like a phenomenal jackass. (His Now-Ex Finacee' used to use her "issues" against him, and apparently ran him over like a backhoe stuck in reverse all the time, so now Anyone With Anything To Be Said To Anthony About Anthony EVER is suspect. If I weren't so pissed, I'd point out that, hmmm, isn't that kind of the same thing as what I have? Hello, Kettle? This is Pot..... you're black. Irony of ironies: I have PTSD about new relationships, and his PTSD thing is girls who have PTSD. You can see how THAT one went trying to sort it out).
It finally got so ugly that I put the smackdown on it midway through one of his tempestuous rants by telling him, "Anthony, I don't want to email you anymore. I don't want any more misunderstandings, or misunderstandings between us. If you want to talk to me and try to sort this thing out, it's gonna have to be in person or over the phone. I know that neccesitates you coming back to the States, and that's fine. We need a break. You have my number when you get back here, use it if you want to. If not, I'll move on."

He's due back here any day now. Not exactly sitting by the phone and waiting ( although I wonder if he'll call far too many times a day for my own comfort- more reasons I need to WORK!!), but it is a huge disappoinment to me that I had a wonderful prospect and it went to hell.

But what am I gonna do? I can go to therapy -which I'm willing to do- and work on my stuff, so I can date like a normal person ( Master P's comment, and I quote, "Yeah, I think that's probably a good plan. Unless you wanna end up like 'Nurse Jenny' in The World According to Garp." My snappy comeback: "Hell no, especially if I have to wear the outfit all the time!" Ah, literary humor.)
But even Master P says, "well, you dated two other guys earlier this year, did you have trouble with that?" Some, but not alot. Sassy commented that "yes, you are more fragile and problematic in this area than most. But you're not BROKEN, and if he had a bit of patience, he might have blown through it just fine." I think so. Most of the trouble for me starts at the beginning of things, where I'm looking around for clues that he might be some kind of psychopath ( the key PTSD "issue" in this case is the fact that I dated one and was sexually assaulted at 17 - that's the simple version of the story, anyway. Forgive me for not going into alot of detail, yeah!?!?!?. Anyway, I've sort of arrested at that age in terms of finding new romance, thusly) . Once I'm in, though, I'm pretty okay. I haven't been living like a nun since 17. ( Although lately it's beginning to feel that terms of this sexual desert I've been crossing without a drink since....there's only so much a girl can DO on her own, you know? Urgh.)

Master P: Was there something in particular to this guy that triggered you?
Me: Nothing that someone else couldn't have done just as easily.A phrase here, a turn know, regular stuff.... And then there is the matter of his job. I get it, I have lived around military/etc. people my whole life. But HIS job is a weeeeee bit more complicated. Ethically speaking. Made me wonder. Maybe too much, but, made me take a pause.
Master P: Well, yeah. It's not like he's a librarian.

All of that aside, the bottom line is this : his attitude was so NOT a balm to any lurking fears I might have had, and do I want to hook my wagon to someone who is so defensive and "don't have any problems, okay!?!?!", no matter how wonderful he is? What's the chances HE'S going into therapy anytime soon? Granted, I imagine he'll get over Whacko Ex sooner or later ( they were together 5 years and were engaged), but I'm talking NOW.

The whole thing makes me sad. Sigh.

Still, though, not waiting by the phone.

Unless it's for a JOB. PLEEEEEEASE, ohpleaseohpleaseohplease!