August 2019

If at first you don’t succeed, try try again.

 Second attempt at a post today. Let’s see where this goes.

I am in limbo. I acknowledge this and I am sorta kinda dealing.

I am pretty sure I already wrote this, but I have this theory that I died sometime last year, maybe the year before and this is hell. I re-watched The Good Place. That didn’t help put this theory to rest. No spoilers, but you should really watch it if you haven’t.

“Ever get the feeling that the writers are on season 5 of your life and they are just making shit get really ridiculous?” anonymous random quote.

And ya, I do.

It is plot twist after plot twist. Proverbial funeral after funeral for people I cared about, imaginary futures that never came to fruition and outdated versions of me who cared about those people that did me dirty and imagined those futures that never existed.

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The format for my WordPress has changed and I don’t care for it.

Maybe I don’t like change.

Maybe it reminds me that I have been neglecting this, and many other things. If I had kept writing like I used to, I’d be used to it by now.

4 years I wrote at least twice a week, and a book on top of that. I wrote the above a week ago and never sat back down. Just paid out my yearly 300 to keep this thing going. Suppose I should say something.

I had a woman message me out of the blue saying she appreciated me, and the page and this blog. She said “maybe the blog is the book.”

It just might be.

Huh.

Thanks Karen.

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If I were to look back over the years, the lion’s gate portal has always been a time of joy and change. Last year I was gearing up to come here, ran into an old friend and went swimming, had the most joyous of days and some upside down sex.

This year was no different.

Sex and change aplenty. Made some money and got right with my gods.

Today is the black moon, Venus and Mars just had a great conjunction, and I feel like that will be the end of the star stuff for a while. And that is okay. I came out clean and happy.

Leveled up with the Final Boss. The other one sorta came around and then went away again. Decided it was okay to message Sex Walking and that went okay for a minute. Even if that never comes to fruition, it’s nice to have some intelligent flirtation in my life again.

Lover Come Back is playing right now, and I am pretty sure it’s Giant’s birthday.

When I think back on him, and I do often, he is the definition of ‘worth it’. Nothing with him was easy, except the times we were together in the same room, then he was easy like Sunday morning. I had to do a lot of learning to love him. How can you love someone that much and not put a label on it? Si Cut, as is.

Which reminds me.

Talked to ex hubby at great length yesterday.

Rehashing and lessons on motherfucking lessons. I ended up in tears at one point. He didn’t say anything bad, I broke my own heart.

I realized a few things. The most poignant being, I didn’t love him as is.

Also…

We would have had a much better relationship without other people in it.

And I don’t mean the obvious sisterwife issue, yes, I had a sisterwife. He says he still gets shunned because people saw that as an abusive relationship, and I suppose it was in a way. But not the way they think. Got me thinking about small towns and rumor mills, fishwives and gossip queens.

I am always shocked when I hear something about myself. I guess I think I don’t matter enough to exist when I am not in the room.

Had a brief conversation with the Final Boss yesterday.

Went something like this

Me: half the bar came back to my house last night at 4am

Him; ya, I heard

Me: about the after party?

Him: everything

Me: Now what?

Him: you tell me

So I did. I had coked out strippers and customers coming in and sitting on my bed. Finally got to sleep around 5:30. It was roomies birthday week so he got a hall pass. A month ago I would have been in a bad mood about it for a month, but I am feeling better about everything lately. So it’s fine.

Except.

This is a small town, if not in population, then in mentality. Like the 50’s, but with internet and smart phones.

I told him I wish I was doing what everyone thought I was doing, which is I have 27 boyfriends and get laid constantly, like some kind of bakery, take a number, now serving customer 242.

I don’t actually wish that. But still, sick of people saying shit about me.

I suppose the lesson is there are always consequences, even for the things we don’t do.

But wolves don’t concern themselves with the opinions of sheep.

I am not a saint, never claimed to be. Just a girl who wants to love and be loved.

Ain’t that the fucking truth. I am really tired of waiting. So tempted to set everything on fire and start over. I have that option right now. I always do.

I watched Goodfellas last night. It’s been years. And I realized something.

2 things actually. Samuel L Jackson has a cameo appearance.
And
There are 2 kinds of Karen’s in the world.
The first wants to speak to the manager.
And the second?

I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. But I didn’t. I gotta admit the truth. It turned me on. (Karen)

Until they turned rat at the end, none of their life seemed that bad to me. I kinda liked it.

I promised my girl Sarah I would write something.

Promised Sexy Peaants too.

Him and Lucy are the only ones I have been able to have a secret language with since I have been here.

Truth be told I miss him.

There is a meme that makes the rounds, actually 3 that will be cited here. Such proper wording for memes, but whatev’s, write what you know.

The first

Once you have mastered the art of dating fuckboys you must face the final boss.

Jail Bae/Mister has yet a new nickname.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the Final Boss. Lucy and I dubbed his such as he slid into her DM’s before she got here.

Sarah says she doesn’t like him. Unfortunately, I do. He’s a good man. I won’t speak against him. When he said “out of sight out of mind” it wasn’t a challenge, it was a warning. I get it now. I broke my own heart with unrealistic expectations and that thing where I want to universe to unfold on my timeline, which is usually in the vicinity of now.

His boys made fun of me for taking away the Netflix. I said ‘when this current one changes her password and locks you out, you can have mine again.’ Then I saw her name on the tv screen and I knew who it was. Not a nemesis, just a girl I used to know.

Her?

I haven’t been a saint. He pointed that out. There was an overlap at the beginning. But I stayed faithful while he was a way and for a long minute before and after that. Much to my chagrin, irritation, anger and pride. I did the thing.

Then he dumped me, and for a minute there I had a different boyfriend.

And for a minute it was good, then it went back to same same no different.

I think I got so excited about the concept of boyfriend that I disregarded how I ought to be treated, twice. I am low maintenance. But this is really low. FB said he thought he would be bothering me if he wanted me over more than once a week. What planet are you on? That is literally all I wanted. Same thing, more often. He also said he didn’t really read the letters I sent, just looked at the pictures, I figured as much.

The other one just never shows up. He was good for a minute, checking in once or twice a day. Now, back to the nothing.

Fuckboy phone portal phenomenon. Wherein they text and immediately get lost in time and space and resurface days/weeks/months later. With a resounding ‘sup’. Or the newfie version, “y’at?”

Final Boss took the boyfriend thing very well. Said a pleasant goodbye, and then booty called me 72 hours later. Bless him. It was a hard no to say.

I was talking to Mark yesterday. I had posted a status about only being 55-75% satisfied with my life right now. I am trying to switch over from dancing to waitress and one of the shifts I thought I was getting, I am not getting. I threw a fit. Then woke up the next morning to cramps and blood. The situation was pout worthy, but I cried in the alley. 75% with work, less than 55 now with the mens.

The second

Your hoeness gets deleted with every period. Sins washed away with the blood of Christ.

If this is true, after this morning, I am immaculate. Motherfuckingchristsballs. Stood up, walked 2 feet and my floor and legs looked like a crime scene. I wasn’t even awake, and my first thought was “NO, not the rug.” Second thought, was I need coffee to deal with this. And at least it’s not on the sheets.

When Final Boss bootycalled me last week, I simply said “Can’t”

FB: period?

Me: boyfriend

FB: oh, I’m sorry

The former never stopped us before, ask my nice white sheets taking up space in the landfill.

Full moon tomorrow. Even if I hadn’t already known, the bloodbath would have been a dead giveaway. I am anticipating some kind of cosmic fuckery. Lion’s Gate is closing. It was a good one this year.

The third

God is love. But Lucifer does that thing with his tongue.

Normally I run to Our Sara of Lords to be absolved, but … this time it was Sexy Peaants who played priest in a box.

SP: How’s is the kiwiqueen of everything tonight

(He calls me the best things. And gives really good advice. I explained what had happened since last we spoke)

SP: Just stop putting your heart into it… get fucked and get fucked good. They don’t care about you the care about fuckin so play the same game baby

Me: That’s what my girl said last night

SP: Ya well listen to her

Me: Hence the ice pack

SP: Bahahahahaha. Well good ice packs are better than boxes of tissues. Ice your vagina don’t wipe you tears

Me: Quote of the week. You get a whole week peanut

SP: Hahahaha yes babys. Remember that now

Me: Fucking devil penis magic. I did give him a full list of why he might be Satan walking on earth. He agreed with me

SP: Get whatever you can for you babe … no one else gonna do you like you … so get it babe. You deserve to be fucked by the devil… I’m not there to do it so someone else better step up and break you off proper haha

Me: I love you

I do love him. He said I was a pistachio in a bowl of peanuts among a thousand other things. In the time called before we stayed in bed, both with righteous hangovers for an entire day, just listening to music, making out and telling stories. Sustained contentment.

I am handling things I thought I couldn’t handle. The reality isn’t near as bad as I thought it would be.

If they’ve taught me anything at all, it’s how to live without them.

I am a slow learner, but I get it.