Just some Santa

Jusg is going to be Santa at my work party tomorrow night!

He texted:












Be still, my throbbing vagina.



In between

I would like to take a moment at this juncture to explain something about me and my blogging/diarizing habits. This is where I vent my frustrations, work out my problems and sometimes record the day to day happenings in my life. You should know, however, that when I’m not writing about something tearing me apart, life is going pretty well.

It was a good weekend. I worked half the day on Saturday and spent the other half of Saturday and all day Sunday outside clearing leaves off my lawns. It was wonderful. I got stoned in the evenings and probably ate a little more than I normally would (munchies!) but I also exercised, ate healthy food (other than munchies!) and pretty much felt amazing.

Life is full of ups and downs. One of the greatest lessons of my past decade is that the bad will always come eventually; no matter what, frustrations and heartaches and problems are inevitable. But the good stuff always comes eventually, too. New loves, promotions, sunny days and happiness are alway always on the horizon. Sometimes you have to hang on until they arrive, but they will. They will.



I spent the evening with Miul tonight. Last night I asked if he would like to get shwarma and watch this movie we’ve both been waiting to see. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, yes?

I was on the couch we used to share; he was on his recliner and folded laundry and chatted with someone on his cell phone. I sat there trying to decide what I would get to eat on the way home.

I decided to get chips, but then maybe a chocolate bar. Ice cream? But I knew that wouldn’t be enough. I wanted to gorge myself. I wanted to drown in something, anything. I wanted to shoot heroin into my veins, to fuck a stranger so hard I couldn’t see straight. I compromised with the voices in my head and we all agreed that pretzels dipped in chocolate pudding would be acceptable. But I shall spend the whole weekend fucked up on booze drugs and junk food so I can cry out all this bullshit once and for all.

One more bender won’t make a difference. Right?

I should have stayed home alone.


I’m overwhelmed at the overwhelming sense of being overwhelmed I’m experiencing today. A large part of my job involves following up and reaching out and being a part of my community and, to be frank, I didn’t do any of that over the past two months. I was focused on myself, my relationship, my move, my crush, my new life and work stuff was pushed into the background. Now I am paying the price. Usually averaging about 4 move ins per month, this month I have one so far with the promise of another. And they were just flukes that anyone in this role could have done.

I had very high hopes for another success this morning. I was full steam ahead, guns blazing, enthusiastic and confident. But when I heard that they had chosen my competition/nemesis/former employer, all the fight went out of me. I felt myself just deflate, so much so that I can even see a difference in my reflection.

Today it really slapped me in the face how few healthy coping mechanisms I was taught growing up. Can’t blame my mother, it’s obvious she doesn’t know how to recognize her shit either; my dad felt everything but pushed it away or yelled it out. This is a large part of the reason why I have been attempting to re-raise myself for the past decade, to go back and fix the things they screwed up or missed. I thought I was pretty much done but there’s always something new hiding in there to slap me in the face when I least expect it.

It is a rare event that I recognize my feelings as they are happening. I basically grew up keeping everything inside and simply avoided the things I didn’t understand. When I couldn’t hide from them, I dealt with my problems by eating, drinking, smoking and crushing. The problem right now is that I’m consciously not allowing myself to avoid it. I’m taking it out and turning it around to get a good look at it. And it is fucking hard, yo. No wonder I spent a lifetime with my head in the ground, worrying about other people instead of myself.

I could say – and want to say – that I brought this shit on myself by not doing my job to the best of my abilities. But I also think I need to cut myself some slack. I went through some major life changes in the past two months and I needed to see my old coping mechanisms to recognize them once and for all. And what’s past is past, I can’t go back and do the things I neglected. All I can do is move forward with my improved self knowledge and keep trying. But can’t I just curl up into a ball and cry for a couple of days first? Please?


Just some guy

Did I tell you what Unionguy did after his trip? Remember how I was just going to be chill and see? I practically bounced out of bed with excitement on Saturday morning; just knowing he was back in town filled me with renewed hope and anticipation. I promptly got dressed and went out to rake leaves before the rain started. By the time I was done, he had sent a message.

We texted back and forth for a bit and then he offered to buy lunch. He picked up a chicken caesar salad and some garlic bread and brought it here. I was jonesing for a Diet Coke so I also said “if you buy me a Diet Coke I will love you forever, or at least until it’s all gone.” He brought a can of Diet Coke as well.

So, we ate lunch and chatted about his trip. Then we moved into the living room and chatted about the worst year of his life and one of the best years of my life. Getting to know each other a little better, just as I had hoped. As we talked, I resisted the urge to climb into his lap and dry hump myself to orgasm.

He had flown over night, got into town at 7:30am and texted me at 9:15am. Dude missed me as much as I missed him, is what I’m trying to tell you. He was pretty tired and decided to go home for a nap. He massaged my shoulders as we walked to the door; I resisted the urge to drag him into my bedroom and screw his brains out. Later he texted that he was sorry he had to leave but I said the Diet Coke was all gone so I didn’t need to be nice to him anymore, anyway, so it was all for the best. He told me it was hard to stop himself from stealing a kiss. I changed my panties.

But then he spent the evening with his girlfriend; the next day, too, I assume. More messages first thing Monday morning and a few in the afternoon. Later, as Miul and I texted about his plans to end his life (I say that in a casual way, but it was not a casual conversation), I was quite falling apart and texted UG because I needed someone to talk to. He didn’t know what was going on on my end of the phone and said he had a few minutes and what’s up. But then I realized what an idiot I am (yes, again) and said it was a false alarm. After a while I stopped crying about Miul and did some kickboxing before I did some more crying and went to bed, and then got up and cried even more.

The point I’m trying to make and will just jump into before I get too far off track is: he’s just some guy. Yes, I like his perspective. Yes, he smells good. Yes, I’m attracted to him. Yes, I want to do naughty things with him. But there will be others I feel that way about. It doesn’t have to be him. I need to disconnect from this awful crush crap and remember he’s just some guy. That is what I will start calling him, I think. Jusg.

Jusg, just some guy who is stringing me along, while his girlfriend is busy doing other things. Jusg, just some guy who likes to revel in my adoration then goes about his business. Jusg, just some guy that I probably have absolutely nothing in common with aside from this stupid magnetic attraction that will stop if I make it stop.

Jusg. That’s what he needs to be.


Sorry for the negativity and emotional outburst on my last post. But I feel a billion times better for having gotten it out! Whew. Okay, back at it. Moment in time, Beverly, moment in time. 

“Are you okay?”

Am I okay? Well, let’s see, shall we?

  • I woke up this morning from a dream that I was being fired
  • I have been alone in this house for three days (but it feels like a month)
  • My ex tells me he has decided that he will kill himself soon
  • This dude texts me from time to time and brings me lunch and sits on my couch and makes me horny but then he goes back to his girlfriend and forgets I exist
  • I haven’t made any sales this month which means no commission which means I’ll barely be able to pay my bills
  • I have no money for Christmas
  • I have no money to sign up for my January courses
  • I’m so fucking fat I don’t know what to do with myself
  • I have had a debilitating stress headache non-stop for days
  • I can’t stop crying
  • I have no one to talk to
  • I’m so alone
  • And I’m not allowing myself to drink or smoke pot for a while


Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.

I am disappoint

Sometimes I get so disappointed with the human race. People. Commitments mean nothing anymore, promises, your word is your bond is just bullshit. Even me. I am a people too.


At my work we (okay, I) have made a commitment to transport a group of people from here to there and circumstances beyond our control (read: the bus is in the shop) are causing us to cancel this week. That’s okay, life happens, but they will need to pay for alternate transportation and when I asked my boss if I could make a financial donation to their costs she said I shouldn’t offer it.

When I was leaving Miul, friends would ask me why I felt so obligated to him. Because I made a promise to be with him. I didn’t marry him and it’s not difficult to see why I hesitated in making that bigger commitment now, but still, there was a promise and I didn’t follow through with that promise. I still struggle with that.

So what? was the consensus. Put yourself first. Your needs are most important.

Do promises mean nothing?

When I used to spend time with my 9 year old Gem, I was always trying to instill in her the importance of not making promises she couldn’t keep. Even – actually, especially – to herself. If you make promises, it is important to keep them. Otherwise, simply don’t make the promise. To be trustworthy and good, you need to keep the promises you make. It’s just math.

But, according to the rest of the world, it doesn’t matter. We should all put ourselves first and screw everyone else that is depending on us and trusting us to follow through.

I understand I used to take it too far the other way. Me last is no better than me first. But sometimes another’s needs should come before our own. If for no other reason than the greater good. Dammit.




There are moments that still can’t believe that I live in this house, in this dream. And I achieved it through the power of intention. 

I forget this sometimes but it is important to trust that the answers will come as the questions are asked. As I choose each fork in the road throughout my life, I will choose correctly. I will choose the path that is right for me in that moment and trust that it will lead me to the place I need to go or the lesson I need to learn. 

That means I can let go and just be. I will let go and just be. This does not require drugs or alcohol, unhealthy food or any extreme behaviours. All I need is faith in myself and my continued happiness.


Colour Your World

There is an odd little room that was built on to the house I am living in. It was originally a sewing room that I now use as my home office. Against one wall is a counter that I set up with my colouring books and crafty things. Not that I colour much these days but sometimes, if I’m bored and walking by the open book, I’ll sit down and get into it for a bit. I’ve been working on the same picture since long before I moved in. It just kinda slapped me in the face…


“Create your own Reality”

Is that what I’m doing?? Am I making up how I want things to be and acting as if they were real? Maybe he doesn’t have feelings for me at all, I just want him so bad I’m projecting my feelings onto him. Huh. 

I can’t get that doggone UG out of my head. I mean, I can… I’m not obsessing, I’m getting my work done and able to dress myself and watch TV and stuff. But when there’s nothing on my mind, he is on my mind.

And this stupid physical reaction.

I’m 45 years old, not a pre-teen or something! Of course, I do still colour and pick my nose from time to time… perhaps I’m not as mature as I like to think. But still.

When I think of him, I don’t even know what to do with it. Except tell myself to shut up, I guess. He comes back to town tomorrow and that makes me so excited. I’m excited! So what? He’ll call, come to my door, tell me he ended his relationship and declare his undying love for me? I don’t want that! Because then what? I might not even like him if I get to know him. He might be a slobbery kisser, he might kick puppies, or chew with his mouth open. I don’t know him enough. All I do know is I want to know him more. And it’s ruining my fucking life!!! (lol… dramatic pre-teen emphasis there. Nice, huh?)

I think too much, don’t I? And I think too much about the fact that I think too much. I think. I don’t know; I’ll think about it.