There was one point i walked out onto the front porch this past week, and interrupted my buddies’ conversation with my exclamation, “I have so many dates this week, i can’t keep them straight!” They looked at me and said, “GTFOH!” Super quality dates though! This past week i have been watching my housemate’s marriage fall apart. Her husband fell in love with her because she is a free-loving free spirit, but now he wants all that love and spirit for himself. That sent him into a downward spiral of insecurity and paranoia and douchebaggery which has resulted in me cussing him out and banishing him from the house indefinitely this morning. What a way to start the week! But sunday was awesome–i went out with a new friend on our second date. We went to see a kids’ production of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and then went out for a couple of drinks. Great conversationalist. Friday, i had a second date with another tinder friend. She ended up at the house as part of our huge snow day party,is real fuckin sweet, and can hold her own around crazy strangers. That entire 24 hours was just a shit show. That is when housemate’s husband was being real crazy. Hey decided out of FOMO that his ass wasn’t going to work. He then got pissed when my housemate got pissed at hi for intentionally not going to work. This guy had already been sent home earlier in the week for reeking of liquor and told to shower+come back. He didn’t go back. Now, he was gonna lay out again? My housemate parties her ass off, but she gets her ass to work–even when she isn’t scheduled. Who the fuck WANTS to go to work. That shit hit her wrong because she isn’t like that AND because this motherfucker is already borrowing money from her. Plus, i had said two days prior, i didn’t want to see his ass at the house until saturday at the earliest. But here he was with his third, boundary-busting appearance in that time. Anyway, he showed his ass for the last time this morning, and i told him not to come the fuck back to our house, EVER. I swore as the person who married my housemate and her husband that i would do everything in my power to help them through whatever. Ive been patient with this fuckwit as he figures himself out, but my first duty is to my bestie who is being straight up harassed by this man at this point. I would want someone to advocate for me like that in the case this was happening to me. Anyway, my Boone buddy comes next week. We are supposed to spend solstice in hot springs. Prior to that, another date friend person is my +1 to the company christmas party–guaranteed shit show. I’m going to start undoing my tech addition today. I turned off my cell and im going to leave my iPhone at home tonight while im at work–even though that’ll make it all boring AF. Got into vikings season 5 last night–i heart Ivar!
One (of many) reasons i don’t attend obligatory family gatherings (such as last week’s), is that i have a few family members who are unnecessarily argumentative AND they don’t really have the brain power to be arguing with anyone in the first place but INSIST on demonstrating their ignorance.: one uncle who is a sober 7th Day Adventist and my dad but only when he is drinking. I do not have time for this bullshit. I only have space in my life for uplifting people and activities. That sounds unrealistic, but my life is great since I have cut out these excruciating holiday visits and set up alt dates with just my parents at a time of day when my dad has not yet begun to drink. My sister lauren gave me the low down on turkey day this morning. She said the shit head 7th Day Adventist uncle did his normal thing but to the nth degree, like my mother had to calm his ass down. What am i thankful for this alt turkey day? Again, that i wasn’t at the family turkey day. Someone managed to snap an epic shot of the beginning of my uncle’s rumplestiltskin-style tantrum and my parents and i recreated it this afternoon at peaceful, vegan, notturkeyday:
Im hoping that by writing about this ex, I️ will GTFOver the recent shit that happened. We broke up a year ago. We live in the same small town. Ive since gotten married (and am in the process of divorcing that person) and she has since moved in with her boyfriend who lives like 2 blocks away. We’ve gone back and forth, back and forth between being ok and not ok. When I️ left for South America and she left for California in early november, we were fine. She and my mom and I️ had a visit in my kitchen. Everything was cool finally. But now she isnt speaking to me, AGAIN. There are a number of reasons, not the least of which is that she unloaded a lot of intimate details about her current relationship that she probably shouldn’t have and probably now feels guilty about. Her boyfriend won’t even look at me unless I️ wave really hard. So I️ guess it could just be the obvious answer that he doesnt want us to be close and so she is going along with that. Idk. I️ call her back of the head girl because my buddy ian started that after he saw the coffee table in my house–a craft project that photodocuments all the places we have been together. I️ am trying to not react in anger because I️ DO that. And it isn’t cool. It also doesnt get me the answers im looking for. And it makes me look like a jackass. Thi sis just gonna be another instance where I️ have to be ok not knowing wtf is going on AND I️ hope to have the emotional strength not to let this person waltz back into my life when it is convenient for her. That will happen. And I️ want to respect my own boundaries.
What the fuck do you do when your ex girlfriend who is kinda your neighbor now stops by while she is walking her boyfriend’s really cute dog and proceeds to tell you how not great their sex life is–like not the intensity and the frequency and vagina that she got when we were together. It made me sad. I was like, “hey, you should be honest with your boyfriend.” Nope. And then we had another run in shortly after that where i directly said, “you have a problem with honesty–it was an issue our entire 3 years together. Maybe you should be honest about the sex you want–you arent doing yourself or your boyfriend any favors.” She still refuses to go that route, and I’m still sad about it. But i am happy she returned my cast iron yesterday–i joke about it costing me 10 thousand dollars as that is what i paid for an engagement party+a diamond ring for a girl back in 2012. Gross.
Then there is the anxious-insecure attachment I transferred from one person to another. Energy isn’t destroyed, people. It can’t just go away. Now, I’m trying to fix this attachment issue instead of just going full steam ahead with an attachment disorder. I always called it “being too much,” and while it IS that, it is something i can fucking address and correct. Yay!
How to maintain authenticity+vulnerability through this thing called, “LIFE?” I thought my wife had killed all that was soft in me but really I’ve found i am just softer after all this bad experience. I made it! so i think being authentic+vulnerable will continue to come naturally and maybe even increase exponentially throughout my lifetime. I mailed back my wife’s wedding ring today as she requested in early september and supplied me with an SASE to do the deed. She requested the iphone she gave me back but fuck her–i use that thing and it was not given conditionally. She sent me a box or sercies I’d given her that she could have easily thrown in the garbage. What a fuck face.–like she took the time, energy, and money to mail me garbage. Crazy. Anyway, this is still my year, and maybe it is the year to end my attachment disorder. That’s a great goal.
Im really enjoying my ancient Scandinavian-influenced hairstyle and have gotten quite addicted to razoring the back of my head. It feels delightful. I also started treating myself to a weekly bath. Bubble trouble.
My professor buddy is sick and probably not going to make it here this weekend, which sucks because i took the whole thing off and it is high season BUT i have my two best buddies from 1st grade coming through so it isn’t a bust. I was gonna make my professor buddy a turnip turnover (turnipover?) but they wouldn’ta been able to eat it even if they were here. They have been sick for three fucking weeks now, and i gave them cold sores so everything is compounded. I was full disclosure right off the bat, back in august and i wan’t showing any symptoms when we last visited, but because their immune system was compromised from a general cold, they got the herp. And they got it badly. I was gonna go up there and take care of them, but they were like, “hey, uh-uh, i look a mess and i do not even want you to see me like this.” That made me sad. I want them to come here so they can be motivated to go (read: taken) to the doctor–like, denial and gender stuff will keep the smartest person out of the dr’s office, i get it. Ugh.
And then my mom who hasn’t apologized for the last shitty thing she did to me wants to know when im free this weekend. Technically all of it, but im not giving her that. Those people take too much out of me. That makes me sad. But I’m less sad about it than i am ecstatic that i don’t have as much of that energy suck going on.
Oh, and i met a sweet+hot+emotionally available therapist momdog rugby yoga person who works with kids aging out of foster care. Crushhhhhh.
So last thursday, the drug dealer dropped by the house and it had fallen on me to meet with her because work schedules and stuff. Well, this person is chronically late and flakey, but GEEZ, an hour late and i have to get out of the house to put on a presentation, and im like, “hey, where are ya,? Gotta go!” I mean, for 300 bucks i can show up somewhere on time. The chit chat bullshit surrounding these types of relationships always bothers me. I am not a small talker, and i feel so weird being inauthentic but im totally being inauthentic when im like, oh, yeah, come hang out with us soon. Or whatever. So, anyway, she finally shows up and has less ecstasy than originally planned. That’s fine–i don’t need ALL the ecstasy and then gives me two hits of acid and then is like, “hey, im done for the day and about to start partying–want a bump?” Yes. Well, she lays out two big ol’ fat lines like she is fucking Pablo Escobar and says, “a little more than a bump, haha.” And i say, “Drug dealer, i cannot do that much cocaine. I can maybe do like half of that.” Anyway, i was like, “thanks, gotta go, we will holler at ya when we do a hang out thing soon.” But i know, most likely, i will forget to invite the drug dealer over until the next time i want drugs. I feel like their is a parallel with the relationship i have with my mother. I actually feel like maybe I have a better relationship with the drug dealer. Like, at least the drug dealer doesn’t constantly remind me that im not a doctor, not a lawyer and that my sink is dirty. I told my therapist yesterday not to worry about waiting on my mother to schedule a joint appointment and that even if she wanted to, im not sure im into at this point. I feel sad about my mom not wanting to accept and cherish the person i am and that she is so effing disappointed in me. I also feel angry about those things. My therapist reminded me i have many other sources of affirmation, and i am trying to focus on those–what i have–rather than what is lacking. Le sigh.
I wrote a note to myself earlier this year about it being MY year, the year of the rooster, the year to make all of my dreams come true, the year to accomplish all my goals. Well, i got really excited about that and I made a lot of assumptions about what all that means. And now, im about half way through the year and am reflecting on maybe some poor/hasty decisions. At the same time, i am SO elated at where i am RIGHT NOW. Strangeness. It just always seems you (not you necessarily but me for sure) have to go through bullshit to get to the goodness. Idk. It seems like at this point i would have something figured out but i reckon i have nothing figured out–which is fine. I am still trying to figure it out. Maybe that pursuit is pointless. I mean, i pursued what i thought my dreams were this year–getting married was a big one. What a disaster. But that disaster led me to this moment in time where i am appreciative of my friends, i am loosening unhealthy attachments, i am about to start promoting my children’s book, i am promoting my non profit, i got to preside over a wedding between my good friends, i am about to go visit my godson in a month, and i have met a buddy that i am ecstatic about. I thought my therapist was totally full of it when he told me that i would meet someone who would check off all the boxes. I thought for sure that was a pipe dream but it turns out it isn’t. Now i just have to manage my expectations and attachments so i don’t destroy this awesome thing. So maybe my year isn’t to pursue what i think my dreams are but to pursue god’s plan for me, and that listening better to god, being present, being mindful is all part of that. Idk.
For a while now i have been dreading getting served my divorce papers because whenever i would hear from my wife, i would lose my shit. After my unbinding ritual, that feeling of losing my shit in relation to my wife’s contact went away, and i have experienced neutral reactions to her contact–for the most part. Thursday morning, I scheduled a tattoo appointment for the evening time, and after work, went home to clean the house and relax. Right before i was about to leave the house for my appointment, a sheriff’s deputy came by to serve me my divorce papers. I told him my legal name was not anywhere on the paperwork, and he didn’t seem to worry about that. Idk. He was willing to take a picture which i thought was nice, and he knew where I worked because he’d just served someone there the previous night. Anyway, i don’t believe that a notary is going to let me sign this copy i received because it isn’t me and it would not undo a marriage because on paper, legally, i am not this particular name. Im going to print out this form again and put my legal name on it and get it notarized and return it to this person. Otherwise, after all this bs, i might not be actually divorced come next may. So, i went and got my fingers tattooed. It didn’t work out in Baltimore for a couple of reasons it seems–first off, too much money, and secondly, i wasn’t so sure of the font i wanted. It came to me when i made my appointment that i wanted a person i am seeing to write it out for me and that i would use their personal font. They are going through a much worse divorce than i am so it is like homage to their struggle and my weird, permanent way of having their mark on me. Without consultation, they wrote the phrase exactly how i envisioned it. It didn’t take long to whip out this phrase on my knuckles and i was showing it off by 9pm. Right before i went to bed, I asked the person im seeing how it feels to have their handwriting on someone FOREVER and they said, “it feels nice, buddy.”