I’m smoking again. Just one a day, two on weekends sometimes. I know it’s completely stupid and I’m taking a big chance. I quit in 2005 after 23 years as a smoker. If I knew anyone who was doing this I’d say they were a complete idiot. But, quite frankly, it’s feeding my need for mini rebellion. So I’m doing it for now but keeping it a secret. I need to determine an end date, when I move or when I start seeing someone maybe (when I have a stroke? Lol), but for now I’m just doing it and not worrying about the consequences. I feel the effects of even one a day already. How long has it been? Three weeks maybe. I don’t know. Whatever. I’m bored and lonely, it’s giving me a giggle, I’m doing it. ūüėč


New editor, eh?

My main concern is will the font size be different depending on where I write my post? Or will edits be large while original font is small? Let’s see, shall we?

How about now?

Boys boys boys

Miul – I saw him on Friday, did I tell you that? It was the first contact since early December. I assume it was because the time I spent with our little Gem opened my heart to a bunch of feelings that I’ve been suppressing and recovering from but basically I got loaded drunk and spite texted him after I got pissed off with Dateguy’s refusal to engage with me in an argument that had been brewing, ironically also since said visit with the Gem. Hmmm, didn’t see that connection before now. Oh, I didn’t tell you about the Dateguy non-drama yet??

Dateguy – So, before I texted Miul, I had a little temper tantrum on poor Dateguy. He asked earlier if I wanted to get together but, since I had screwed Unionguy the day before (are you keeping up with this soap opera?) and him the day before that, I decided to give my vagina and bedsprings a break and have an evening to myself. I think my first mistake was getting through a cooler and half a bottle of wine before I had anything to eat. And, if my second mistake was using the rest of the wine to quench my thirst while trimming trees in my back yard, then the third mistake was definitely cracking open the spiced rum when I came in an hour or so later. The biggest mistake, however, was picking up my phone. He was drunk and stoned with friends. I recall being very disappointed that he was stoned after all his talk about not wanting to get into that again but instead of saying anything about that I made a crack about him not wanting his friends to meet me. He said they weren’t cool enough for me but I channeled my former insecurities and decided he didn’t like me enough to bring me into that part of his life. In retrospect I can see that the conversation we had the week before about this and my decision to not tell him about spending time with the Gem was eating at me to the point of explosion. And explode I did. 

By most people’s standards this was not a big deal and would have been easily resolved with reassurance or a kind word. Instead he chose to ignore me, the consequences of which were not only reaching out to Miul but also the fact that our fun little affair has ended. We haven’t spoken since Saturday and I don’t expect we will unless he reaches out to me. I have not made a decision on whether or not I would see him if he asked and I have no anger or bad feelings toward him, I just don’t see any reason to try to work things out. If he can’t handle that tiny episode he definitely can’t handle me. And Unionguy has been taking care of my significant libido and minimal companion needs as it is. 

Unionguy – because when is it not mostly about him? Soon, perhaps. I’ve applied for a job in another city and will be moving 4 hours away if I get it. I think that would be somewhat of a relief to us both; it will end our affair cleanly and appease him of his guilt, and it will give us some distance to allow our plant to die (reference to a post in the fall that I’m too lazy… er, busy to hunt down and link here). Either way we had a lot of fun talking and sexing last night, even though he says he won’t come visit me if I move. Lol

Well, that’s all of the excitement in my life. I feel good right now. The silver lining in not getting the job I had pinned all of my hopes on is that the world has opened up and I don’t know what comes next again. And, if you know me at all, you know that’s my very favourite place to be.

This is so much better

It feels different. Fun. Free. I don’t know if he notices a difference but I certainly do. 

It’s even better, dammit!!!!!

See? That’s why I’m always comfortable going through a shitty time, when I don’t know how things are going to work out, but it seems pretty bad. Because the other side of the fence? Where everything is greener? It’s amazing. 

He didn’t use his safe word even once! I bet he wanted to.

Post title 

My first thought when I woke was Oh no, I slept in! I’m going to be late! What time is it? When am I supposed to be there? Where am I supposed to be? Wait. What day is this? Am I… Where am I… But… Oh, I already went there and then came home and fell asleep and I’m an idiot and I have sheet dents in my face and pretty much all over my body and the day is half over now. Where’s my phone? I need to write this shit down. Why do I need to record this? It happens all the time. Post.

Sometimes things are exactly what they seem

Am I not being the person I think I am? The person I say I am?

My mouth got me in trouble at work again, I’m trying to course correct but the fucking hot air blowing from them is knocking me over. I don’t like dealing with people who two face me, I don’t want to work for someone I don’t trust. They did earn a bit of my trust today, but only if they were speaking the truth. I believe they were genuine but¬†who am I to say?

Was I speaking the truth? Who are they to say? Did they believe me? And due to the fact that they have no way to know for sure (unless they have crazy solid proof, which they would have brought up), it matters whether they believe me or not.

A part of me wanted to scream “How dare you, sir? How. Dare. You. I would never speak that way and if you had any respect for me, you would know I wouldn’t. I make every effort to live in a way that speaks my truth, and my truth is not that my sister residence is not ‘the ugly step-child.'” But at the same time, all I could think was “Did I? Did I say that? Would I say that?” And the answer was no. I wouldn’t say that because I don’t believe it, I don’t believe in it. I applied for the sales position over there, too, and for the GM position. I spent a lot of time studying how I would sell it, I practiced for my interview by listing their strengths and weaknesses. And if the job came up, I would apply for it.

I say it is smaller, more intimate, kind of boutique-y; I describe how it looks like an old southern house, with white shutters and a wrap around porch. I speak highly of it, say it’s a little low key. I don’t say the prices are lower than ours unless the prospect can’t afford us, then I will call Kristen personally. Of course (and it is possible this is what happened because I have an exceptionally bad memory and can’t place it for sure) but if someone said “I guess they are the ugly step-child… hahaha” I would probably snicker because they are a prospect and they just made a joke – just as I would giggle if a guy I had a crush on made a joke. *tee hee what a terrible thing to say tee hee*

Also to my benefit I had proof from someone else that I speak with nothing but respect for¬†others, which I forwarded to my boss the very day before. And I had had the conversation with someone just an hour before; I have that conversation every single day, I didn’t stumble, this is what I say. And I have a step-child, that is not my way of thinking. And, honestly, if you want to get down to brass tacks (or brass tax… I don’t exactly know what it means), I call it my “sister” residence, so I would have said “ugly step-sister” or daughter, never child.

So, while I would be offended if they didn’t believe me, that’s not really up to me. That usually comes from their own lives and experiences. They don’t know me; they don’t know who I am or where I have come from, they don’t know how I came to be or the colour of the blood that pumps my heart. They are too busy listening to their own story to hear mine, and that’s okay. I can’t live my life freely if I can’t be free and let others be free as well.