Archive | August 2012

Batten down the hatches

There’s a storm coming.  You might have heard about it already.  My thoughts?  The only thing that should be blowing around here is me.

The people in this small town have already cleaned Wal-Mart out of water and D-batteries.  My sister and I have not bought anything.  We tend to under-prepare for things like this.  I did manage to go buy a carton of cigarettes yesterday though.  So as far as I’m concerned, let it rip.  I’ve got my smokes, so I can handle anything.

People keep saying that it’s an omen because it’s supposed to hit on the anniversary of Katrina.  I seriously doubt that it will be all that it’s hyped up to be.  Of course as soon as I say that, the whole state of Mississippi will end up being blown clear up into Canada.

I guess I’d better go home and fill up the tub with water & bring my pink Schwinn bike inside.

Happy humping & hold on to your undies!

Hurricane Isaac

Date Night

Gerard Butler

Gerard Butler

I had a date last night.  Don’t get too excited.  It wasn’t that great.  I was supposed to go out with him over a week ago, but I cancelled on him.  I just had no desire at all to go out with him.  His profile on the dating site was bland and his picture did nothing for me.  It seems that no matter how hard I try, I just can’t get over being shallow when it comes to appearance.  Not that I must have a guy who looks like Gerard Butler, but I do like a clean-looking guy who at least tries to take care of himself.  I do find many different types of men attractive though, and what I find attractive, well, someone else may not.  That’s just how it works.  Different strokes for different folks.

My date, however, was not the type that I usually find attractive.  He’s a big boy, which is fine because I’ve dated a few big boys before, and I had no problems being physically attracted to them.  The difference is that something about their face, their personalities, or some other thing attracted me to them.  Actually I’ve always kind of preferred guys who were stocky or big and tall, because it made me feel protected and safe.  When I was with them, I felt like they would protect me.

So last night he sent me a text asking where I wanted to meet.  I had already eaten dinner so I asked if we could just meet for a drink somewhere.  He replied saying that he wasn’t really into bars.  Well that was strike one.  Not because I’m a heavy drinker or anything, but I haven’t been able to get out and do much these last few months and it would be nice to go out for a drink with someone.  That wasn’t going to happen, so we decided to meet at the city park.  It wasn’t something I wanted to do at all, but I felt guilty for cancelling on him the first time and he had driven a half hour to meet me.  While I was driving to meet him at the park I kept thinking, “I really don’t feel like doing this.  I’d rather just be at home watching tv.”  My sister told me before I left that I needed to go be social.  I didn’t really see how meeting a complete stranger in a park at night was being social, but I went anyway.

Big Boy was there waiting for me when I got there.  I put on my happy face and tried my best to be social.  We sat down at a picnic table to talk.  As we were talking though I noticed that his eyes kept drifting down, and he kept scooting closer.  Every time he moved closer my body would tense up and I think he finally noticed.  He did make me laugh a little, but I’m not sure if it was more of a nervous laugh, or because he was being funny.  He made several comments about how he was very giving and affectionate, and how he would do this or that, “you know, if it ever got to that point.”  Bad DateHe was talking about sex of course.  As you all know, I love sex, but I prefer not to talk too much about it openly like that on a first date.  I’m a changed woman, and now I want to get to know someone first.  I just sort of half smiled and ignored his comments on the subject.

About an hour into our conversation I told him I needed to get going.  He walked me to my truck, and kept talking to me. I just wanted to go home.  He hugged me and tried to give me a kiss, but I pulled away.  I said goodbye and left.  It was pretty much what I expected.  It only reinforced my lack of desire to date now.  The men around here just aren’t appealing to me.

Since I’m talking about what I find appealing…I’d like to say that sometimes even I am surprised by who I am attracted to.  I’m really surprised when I look back at some of my past lovers.  I can’t help but think, “What the hell was I thinking?  He’s not even attractive.”  On the other hand though, sometimes I’m attracted to guys who are generally considered to be handsome, but just not my usual type.

Take my new boss, Wildman, for example.  I’ve known him for probably ten years.  The Preacher met him when they first moved here, and he installed the sound system in the Preacher’s church that he had here.  Over the years my dad came to consider him a friend, and the Preacher, my mother, and I even had dinner with Wildman and his wife once.  I just knew him through the Preacher though, and didn’t really know much about him.  I did know that for some reason I found him very attractive.  He’s definitely not what I normally like.  He’s got crazy long hair, and that’s something I usually hate.  (Oh, before I go any further here…I want you to know that I adore him and his wife and I would never make any moves on him.  He’s married and my boss.)  I guess my point is just that sometimes I don’t even understand why I find someone attractive.  I just do.

On that note, I will say goodnight.  I have to get up early tomorrow so that I can have time to practice my guitar.  I bought a beautiful new baby blue electric guitar, and now I just have to learn to play it.  Playing the bass guitar has always been easy for me, but those two extra strings and the damn chords are working on my nerves.  I’ll get it though.  I bought a DVD that will teach me.  😉

Happy humping & rock on!

Your Presence is Requested…

I got a text from Manwhore’s business partner yesterday telling me that a map on one of the brochures was wrong.  She asked nicely if I would fix it and then upload it to Vistaprint again.  Since I’ve already been paid for the work, I agreed to fix it.  I know I said I was finished working for Manwhore, but because it was her and not him who contacted me, I agreed to do it.

I got it done and then logged in to their Vistaprint account.  On the front page of the website it always shows a link to your portfolio after you log in.  It also shows the most recent item that you’ve created.  I noticed a very nicely designed invitation card.  When I clicked on it to see an enlarged image, my jaw hit the floor.

Chicago Gold-Digger & Manwhore

Request the Honour of Your Presence At Our

 Wedding 
 ***
December 12, 2012
at 12:00 noon
Yep, you read that right.  He’s doing it again.  This will make unhappy number 7.  Honestly, I don’t know what to say about this new tidbit of information.  I can’t say I’m surprised.  I’m only surprised he didn’t do it sooner.  However, I will be surprised if he actually makes to the 12/12/12 at 12 wedding.
Regarding Chicago Gold-Digger, I can only say that she is a very savvy gold-digger.  Certainly marrying the man who cheated on you, gave you a disease, and who you kicked out after (due to your gold-digging) he ended up broker than the ten commandments on a Sunday morning, now that takes balls and brains.  Here Manwhore is with his newly found riches, just waiting to run back into your money hungry arms, and you open your legs wide and freely.
What will be really interesting to find out is whether he invites me to the wedding.  LOL
Happy humping my friends.  Happy humping.

Lost in the wilderness

I keep starting posts and then abandoning them.  Things are so crazy, hectic, and depressing here that I can’t even focus enough to finish one little post.  So I’m trying something different.  I noticed that all my posts were confined to specific topics.  Maybe that was the problem.  Maybe right now, my life can’t be confined to one specific topic.  So here.  Sit back while I share a little of my chaotic life with you.

Last week I thought that I was going to finally be able to get a car.  After selling my car earlier this summer to help fund the “save the house” project I started getting very depressed and bitter about the whole situation.  Here I was trying to help my parents and my sister and instead of feeling good about it I just feel like I’ve been beat down and abused.  The Preacher has not done much of anything other than make phone calls to lawyers and look at porn.  He’s not much help these days.  My poor mother has no clue what he’s been up to, and she’s just trying her best to take care of everyone.

We had someone come and look at the house yesterday.  My sister & I agreed not to even tell our parents yet.  We don’t want to get their hopes up.  The woman did love the house though and said she’s going to talk to her husband about it.  So we shall see if she actually comes through and buys the damn place.  I used to love this house, but not anymore.  It’s too big, too hard to clean, too…everything.  If she were to buy it next week and we had to be out in a month that would be fine with me, even though I have no clue where I’d go.

You’re response to my poll was great.  Most of you voted that I go back to New Orleans.  Part of me really wants to do that, especially now that Manwhore has left town.  We all know how that goes though.  He leaves town for a few months and then comes right back like a boomerang.  Oh yeah, he’s living with the Chicago gold-digger again.  I guess I should have started by telling you that I’ve continued to occasionally do website work for him since I moved.  That’s how I know what he’s up to.  After last week though, I’m not going to be doing any more work for him.

His business partner sent me an email a week and a half ago with a very long list of changes that needed to be made to the website and other promotional materials.  I had been waiting on the list for about three weeks.  So once I received it, on a Thursday, I told her that I would work on it on the weekend, which I did.  I spent an entire weekend making all the changes.  Once I was done I sent them the invoice for my work.  He immediately started texting me.  He said that I needed to fix some more stuff and that they would pay me half then and half once it was all done.  Well, first of all I did everything she had on her list.  The only thing that I hadn’t done was the list of additional changes that he gave me that morning.

I told him that once they paid me, in full, I would make the extra changes that he had just given me that morning.  That didn’t go over well.  He went on a texting spree and told me that I was charging them too much, that I was a rip off, that the website looked “crappy.”  That’s funny.  Before he got the invoice they both said that the website was awesome.  In a fit of desperation to get paid, and because he was so rude to me, I put an “Under Construction” page up on the website’s main page.  I also removed everything I had uploaded to Vistaprint for them to order.  That seemed to calm him down and by the end of the day I had my money, he had his website back up, everything was uploaded back to Vistaprint, and everyone was happy and appreciative.

I really don’t like having to be a bitch like that.  It’s just not naturally a part of my personality, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  After all of that I told him that I would not be doing any more work for him.  It’s just too damn stressful.

Now back to where I’ll go if we sell the house.  If Manwhore stays out of my life and hopefully New Orleans, then I would definitely consider moving back there.  The other thing that worries me about moving back there is “the one who shall not be named.”  I’ve kept in touch with him, and even seen him once since I left New Orleans.  I’m just afraid that if I move back there I’ll want to start seeing him again and he won’t want that.  I don’t know if he’s just wanting to be fuck buddies, or friends, or what, and I’m too terrified to ask.  I don’t want to piss him off, or scare him off like I did before.  If it came down to it, I’d rather just be friends with him than not have him in my life at all.

The fear of rejection can be a powerful thing.  How do you tell someone who you have a major crush on them and want to date them without sounding like a goofy teenager?

There’s also the matter of Endymion that I’d have to deal with.  If I moved back there and “the one who shall not be named” turned out to be against dating me, then I know I’d be disappointed, weak, and tempted to go back to seeing Endymion.  I really adore him, but I get the feeling that I would never be able to be his girlfriend.  In the bedroom the age difference disappears, but outside, it’s a different story.

Well, well, well.  I think that’s all I have to say about that.

Oh, back to the car thing.  I picked one out, got financing, and then was supposed to pick it up on Tuesday when the dealership called and said it wasn’t going to happen.  Evidently the odometer on the car had been replaced and therefore the finance company would no longer agree to finance it.  Damn.  That really sucked.  So now I’m back to looking for a car and saving up money, because of course as soon as they told us that, the water got cut off and the power was about to get cut off so my down payment had to go towards bills.  Have I mentioned that I hate this place?  I did?  Sorry.  It’s just that I really hate this house, town and state.

Until next time!

Happy humping!