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Disappointment

I had this big plan for this weekend.  Since I now have a car, I was going to take a trip down to New Orleans to visit a friend.  We planned it all out last weekend.  I was supposed to go down tomorrow, hang out, and spend the night with him.  I was all excited about seeing him and about getting out of town, and I let my excitement get the better of me.

Even though I can be incredibly selfish and narcissistic at times, deep down I am a very giving and caring person.  I had it all planned out to take him a gift.  Since he’s a musician, and I just happen to work in a music store, I thought it would be awesome if I made up a guitar care package for him as a surprise.  He’s a great musician and I adore him, and I just happened to notice once that he didn’t have a case for his guitar, so that’s what started the ball rolling in my head.  He could probably really use all of this stuff and would appreciate it.  He’s also a great guy who deserves to get a treat like this.  Not to mention that I had high hopes of seeing a big smile on his face when he opened it.

I gathered up a case, strings, pics, tuner, strap (a KISS one because even though it is a bit garish, it’s his favorite band), a wall hanger for his guitar, and some other random stuff.  I had to text him to ask what kind of strings he liked, and I tried not to sound too suspicious with my asking.  I wrapped it all nice and pretty in the music wrapping paper that we have at the store and put it in the trunk of my car.  It was all ready to go, and so was I.

Today I sent him a text just to say that I was really excited about seeing him, and that I had a surprise for him.  His response was not one of excitement, but more along the lines of ‘oh, you shouldn’t have.’  Then tonight I get a text from him saying that he’s had a family emergency and will be out of town tomorrow.  Now, I don’t know whether to believe him or not.  I don’t know if I’m being overly paranoid, or if fate just doesn’t want us to ever see each other again.  After all, this is the third or fourth time that our plans to hang out have fallen through.

Of course I don’t want to ask him if that’s really the truth, or if my mentioning that I have a surprise for him may have scared him off, or maybe he just met someone else that he would rather spend his time with.  I opted not to ask him anything.  I just said “OK, maybe some other time.”

The worst part is how crushed I felt.  Not because I had the gift that I really wanted to give him, but because I won’t get to see him.  I was really looking forward to that.  It’s been so long since I’ve seen him.  Now I feel like I may have screwed it all up.

Then more thoughts run through my head about how he probably is just a flake and I shouldn’t waste my time on him.  What if I’m wrong though?  What if he is telling me the truth?  What if I’m just letting my insecurities take over?  It all just sucks.

I sent him one last text asking when he would be back.  I haven’t received a reply.  I’m guessing that’s not a good sign.  I could be wrong though.  I usually am about most things.

Of Muses and Men

Jerry Reed is my muse.  Yeah, I know he’s dead.  That doesn’t mean he can’t still be my muse, well, one of them at least.  If you don’t know who Jerry Reed was then shame on you.  Go Google him.  He’s awesome.  He had this song called “The Bird” and I love it.  If you’ve seen Smokey & the Bandit, then you’ve seen and heard Jerry Reed.  He was a great storyteller, comedian, singer, actor and musician.  For some reason I always thought of him as the perfect man.  Not only was he handsome, funny and talented, he also had a charisma and charm that you don’t find very often.  I’ve met maybe two or three men in my life who had that same type of charisma and charm.

The first is the Preacher.  I don’t quite understand it because he usually comes across as the strong silent type, but he’s also very charismatic.  Over the years he’s charmed his way into everything from my mother’s good graces to the attorney general’s office.  Not that he hasn’t had his share of enemies, but even his enemies won’t deny that he’s a talented charming man.  In a way I think that it’s the main requirement for being in the ministry, other than being a Christian of course.  Then again, there are plenty of ministers who aren’t actually Christians.  They are just in it for the money, the prestige, or the power.  It’s sad, but true.

The Preacher has always been a hard working business man who knew how to “win friends and influence people” and no, he never read the book by Dale Carnegie or took the course.  I did though.  It didn’t really help me very much.  I’m still working on it.  Now back to dad.  He just has that special something that people are drawn to.  I wish I had it, and in a way maybe I do and just don’t realize it.  I think I just lack the confidence to back it up.

The next was a former boss of mine.  I think I’ve mentioned him here before.  I worked for him for almost two years and those were two of the best years I’ve ever had financially, professionally, and socially.  The Doc is an incredibly intelligent man who had a couple of degrees, a doctorate, and was also a CPA.  That alone is impressive, but he is also one of the funniest, most charming men I’ve ever met.  He could probably charm the panties off any woman, without even trying. The amazing thing was that he did it all without coming across as cocky or arrogant, which he perfectly had the right to be. He and I used to sit in his office and listen to music on his computer as we would go over the accounts. We talked about everything, not just the accounts.

I remember one day we were sitting there going over things and a song came on and he asked me if I knew who the band was. I asked “which band?” He said, “You know…The Band.” Ohhhh. LOL I felt a little ditzy at that moment, but the way he said things made me feel so comfortable. I knew he was only teasing me. He was also a huge flirt, but not in a “sexual harassment” kind of way. He was attracted to intelligence and a good sense of humor, of which I have both, so we got along great. 😉 It’s been almost six years since I moved and left that job. I really miss the Doc. He was the best boss/friend I’ve ever had. As a side note, he also warned me that I was making a mistake by marrying my second husband. He knew immediately upon meeting the Ox that we were severely mismatched. He was right.

The last man I met who had that special something, that charisma and charm that is so indescribable, is Art. I know, I know. I’m not supposed to talk about him, so I’ll only say this one thing. Just because things didn’t work out between me and him doesn’t mean that I can’t appreciate what a special guy he is. His charm, intelligence, creativity and charisma are what attracted me to him to begin with. OK so that was two things. I’m done now.

I guess my point here is that when fate brings these special people across our paths, we should take it for what it is worth and just feel blessed that we had the chance to know them. I’m not an elitist or anything, but I do know how to appreciate intelligence, good humor, charm, charisma, creativity and talent. We all have our good parts and bad parts. It’s up to us to strive to make the good parts shine brighter so that the bad parts are diminished.

Again, I apologize for the lack of backlinks, but I’m typing this up on my computer and then posting from my phone.

Happy humping!

My Breaking Point With Manwhore

Well, it finally happened.  I lost my damn mind and my ability to control my mouth.  Last night Manwhore and I got in a huge fight.  It was unexpected and over something seemingly insignificant.  As my sister said, “It’s about damn time.”

I sent him a text last night asking him to stop by the store on his way home.  He sent me a text back telling me that he was bringing a friend home with him, Whore #2.  Yes, the territory-marking bitch ice queen who was rude to me and who hated me.  As you can tell, I have such fond memories of her.  This was the same woman who he said he told not to contact him anymore because of the awful things she said about me.

So…when I got his text I replied “What?! Why?”  It’s bad enough he’s started up the whore parade again, at least he could have the decency to bring in fresh meat.  This stuff with bringing in tired old used pussy is just sad.  See there I go again with my big mouth.  I just can’t seem to help myself.  It seems that I have deep anger issues when it comes to Manwhore.

So, he got pissed off that I asked why he was bringing her over.  When they came in he immediately came in my room and said we needed to talk.  I told him that I didn’t want to talk with her here, but he insisted.  That really pissed me off.  So, in full-on pissed-off redheaded preacher’s daughter fashion, I let him have it, and was loud enough so that she could hear it all.  I told him things that I have held in for years, and a few things that were just for her benefit.  It was oddly freeing.  I was so mad I was shaking.

I haven’t gone that far over the edge in a very long time.  This morning I called my sister and told her some of what I told him.  She laughed and said that coming from anyone else it would be awful, but coming out of my mouth, it was just funny.  I wasn’t trying to be funny.  I was trying to spit fire, and burn his ass.  I think I accomplished my goal.

As I told him off he got angrier, I got louder, and he told me he hated me.  I returned those feelings.  I yelled a lot about how he admitted to using me, how he manipulated me and my feelings, how he fucked everything that he could get his hands on, and how he needed to leave me alone, get out of my room and go fuck the ugly cunt in the living room.  I didn’t call her an ugly cunt though.  I called her something far worse, and made sure I said it loud enough and enough times for her to hear.  I was terrible.  I admit it.  Anger does terrible things to people and I’m not immune.

He told me that he was so mad that he wanted to hit me.  I was prepared for anything.  He didn’t hit me.  If he had I probably would have pulled my .38 out of the drawer.  Thank God I didn’t have to do that.  It did get me to thinking though.  If we were fighting that bad, and getting that angry at one another, it was time to go.  So I told him I would move out.  Never mind the $4,000 I spent getting us into this apartment, or the $1,500 deposit I am going to lose.  I need out.

Then she walked in and looked like she was either high or drunk as hell.  She didn’t say a word.  He told her we were talking and closed the door on her.  Not long after he left my room he took her home.

I hate the idea of leaving New Orleans, this beautiful apartment, and Endymion, but I think it’s best for now.  I’m not ruling out the idea of moving back here at some point, but for now I need to get away from him and this city.

I haven’t broken the news to Endymion yet.  I hope he will want to stay in touch and maybe even visit one another occasionally.  If not that’s fine too.  I’ll miss him because he’s a great guy and my first cub, but I’ll find another cub to play with.

Dammit.  I hate how things can change so drastically in a matter of hours.  It’s time to let go and move on though.  I will more than likely return to the Big Easy one day.  I love it here too much to stay away for good.  Until that time, I’m going to stay with my sister and help her out like I should have done over a month ago.

To top it off, he brought her home with him again tonight.  She’s still here.  I am fighting the urge to pull out my .38 and start cleaning it.  Maybe I should at least unload it so as not to have any accidents.  I’m just kidding of course.  I would never do such a thing.  I’m too careful, and too good a shot, to have an accident.

This just keeps getting better.  I was about to post this when Manwhore came in to ask me when I was leaving and when I’d be back for the rest of my stuff.  I told him I’m leaving tomorrow and will be back probably Tuesday to get the rest.  I told him I’d probably need stay the night because that’s a lot of driving and I’ll be loading everything up into the truck myself.  Being the smart ass that he is, he said that if I didn’t leave at noon I could do it all in one day.  Then he said that his step-daughter is coming to stay a week, so basically he told me that I wasn’t welcome stay.  That’s fine mother fucker.  I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.  If I have to I’ll get a hotel, and I told him so.

How did I ever get so involved with such a lying cheating manipulative sleazy asshole like Manwhore?  Well, I’ve learned my lesson once and for all.  I’m finished with looking for a relationship.  I’m finished forgiving Manwhore and trying to be his friend.  I’m finished with old men that can’t keep their dicks in their pants, and I’m finished with Manwhore for good.

So here’s to all the men I’ve loved in New Orleans.  May you live long and prosper.  Except Manwhore.  May his cock fall off and may he never get any good pussy ever again.  No, I’m not still angry. 😉

This meeting of the She-woman Man-haters Club is now adjourned.

Happy humping!

Road Trippin’ & Auto Mechanics with the Preacher’s Daughters

Last weekend my Momma, my sister (Fallen Angel), my nephew (Little Bubba), and I went on a road trip.  The plan was to take my mom to meet my aunt somewhere around half way between my sister’s house and my aunt’s house.  That meant that we would be traveling about three hours one-way.  However, road trips with my mom, sister & nephew never go as planned.

We were supposed to leave by 10:00 am Saturday morning.  That didn’t happen.  My mom is notorious for taking her time and being late to everything.  She’s a wonderful woman, but she has no sense of time or urgency.  So it was about noon before we actually hit the road.  Once on the road I had to stop and get an oil change since we were in my car and it probably had been six months or more since I had it changed.  (I’m notorious for being a procrastinator, unlike my mom.)

The entire time we were getting the oil changed they were all complaining about being hungry and having low blood sugar.  God forbid if their blood sugar gets low.  It’s more of a joke than a fact.  The Preacher has borderline diabetes and gets extremely grumpy when he doesn’t eat right, so we always tell him to eat before his blood sugar gets low and he turns into the Hulk.  It’s gotten to the point that even my six year-old little brother told my mom after school one day that he needed a snack because his blood sugar was low.  Kids are so funny.

Before we could go eat though, we had to try to put some freon in my car’s A/C.  It’s barely been working for about a year now.  When you have two post-menopausal women in the car, you really need the A/C working, so sis and I were determined to fix it ourselves.  We already had the adapter and the can of freon.  The guy at the oil change place was nice enough to show Fallen Angel where to attach it to the car.  She seemed confident enough that we could get the job done.

We pulled into a space in the parking lot and popped the hood.  With the adapter attached I cranked the car and it began sucking in the freon.  Seemed easy enough.  My sister even pulled up a how-to video on YouTube for us to watch.  After ten minutes though the air still wasn’t blowing colder.  Another ten minutes and still nothing.  We finally gave up.

So after the oil change, arguing over where to stop and eat, then eating, trying to fix the A/C, then getting back on the road, it was about 1:30 pm.  Better late than never, right?

Whenever we are all stuck in the car together for long periods of time the conversation tends to be all over the place.  At one point we were talking about skin care and once again I made the mistake of hounding my sister about the importance of using sunscreen.  I half-jokingly told her that that’s why I look so young and beautiful.  Her reply?  “That’s only because you’ve never even been out in the sun.”  It’s true.  I’m one of those redheads that treats the sun like it’s my arch-nemesis.  I’ve had a couple of bad sunburns over the years and I’d really rather not have that happen again.  I do venture out into the daylight when necessary though.  I also know that tans are supposed to make you look better and all, but I’m perfectly happy with my lily-white skin and freckles, so long as it doesn’t get all wrinkly before I turn sixty.  So wear your sunscreen boys & girls!  Like I tell my sister, you’ll thank me in ten years! 😉

After that little chat we stopped for a potty break.  My Mom was taking forever so I got some nicotine in me while I had the chance.  That’s always the worst part of those long road trips with my family.  I have to wait until we make a stop before I can have a smoke.  Even then if my mom sees me she nags me about it.

She finally came back to the car and as we were leaving she said, “Hurry up and get us out of here.  All those old men in there were gettin’ kind of flirty with me.”  I told her that they just weren’t used to seeing a car load of pretty women in those parts.  We have all our teeth.

So on we went.  We made it to another gas station and called my aunt.  She had driven five hours already and we were running so late that she was almost there.  We were way off from meeting her half way as planned, but it was late so I was relieved that I didn’t have to drive any further.  After my aunt arrived we loaded all my mom’s stuff into her truck and said our goodbyes.  I’m not sure how my mom always manages to leave with twice as much stuff as she comes with, but she’s turned it into an art form.

The conversation with my sister during the drive back was even more interesting because mom was gone and Little Bubba was passed out in the back in his car-seat.  Sis and I started catching each other up on our latest man-problems.  She wanted to know what had happened with Art and the latest news on Manwhore.  We tend to go into “TMI” territory sometimes when discussing our man problems and this time was no different.  She just couldn’t understand why Art & I had such problems in the boudoir.  To be honest I still don’t understand it myself.  Then she had an epiphany that only a blonde could have.  She said that he must have an E.D. problem.  For those of you that don’t know, E.D. stands for erectile dysfunction.  At first I tried to tell her that it couldn’t be E.D. because, well, it just couldn’t be.  She kept asking questions though and eventually it kind of made sense, if only in a “we’re just being funny evil bitches at the poor guy’s expense” kind of way.  She suggested that we call and have a sample of Viagra sent to him, anonymously of course.  LOL  I couldn’t do that to him though.  That would just be mean, and I don’t really believe that was his problem.  I know I’m not supposed to be talking about him anymore so I’ll stop there.  LOL

Then she started going though my Plenty of Fish messages and picking out the guys that had also messaged her.  I always find it amusing when guys are interested in both of us.  We’re so completely different.  It just doesn’t make any sense to me.  It’s even funnier when they send us both the same opening lines.  Apparently it has become necessary though for us to compare notes so we don’t end up going out with the same ones, or at the very least we have to pick who gets which guys.  LOL

I do love the conversations that I have with my sister.  There are certain things that only we can discuss with one another.

It was a long tiring day, but I was happy that I got to see my mom and spend some quality family time with them all.  They may drive me crazy sometimes, but I love them anyway.

Happy humping!

Here’s the situation…

Now that I’ve updated you on my “employment situation“, now I can update you on my “man situation.”

Last week I didn’t get to see Rocketman because he was sick with that nasty bug that’s been going around.  I hate that he was sick, but I think it was good that we were forced to stay away from one another for a while.  It gave us both time to think and figure out how to deal with his friend Mountain Man.  Neither one of us wanted to hurt Mountain Man’s feelings, and Rocketman didn’t want to lose his friend’s trust either.  We kept our texting to a minimum and in the mean time Rocketman tried to get a feel for how Mountain Man was feeling about me.

It seems that even though Mountain Man hadn’t really been texting/messaging me all that much, he still wished he & I could hang out more.  That news surprised me because I had hoped his lack of communication meant that he had forgotten about me and moved on.  Since that was not the case we decided to lay low for a while longer and see if Mountain Man would eventually forget about me.

When I got back from my sister’s on Sunday I sent Rocketman a text to say hi and that it really sucked not being able to hang out with him.  He agreed and started formulating a new plan.

I have to add here that I recently read somewhere that when we (humans) make plans, God giggles.  I think that’s true.  I also read that any delays we encounter are only designed to put us in exactly the right place at exactly the right time.  Again, that seems to be true.  If I hadn’t of gone and met Mountain Man that day, I probably never would have met Rocketman.

I got a text yesterday afternoon from Rocketman.  He said he talked to Mountain Man and told him that he kept seeing my profile on Plenty of Fish (not the full truth, but close enough), and if he wasn’t going to pursue me, would it be cool if he messaged me.  Mountain Man didn’t have any objections, so maybe things will work out after all.  If it works out to where I can date Rocketman, be friends with Mountain Man, and not upset the balance of their relationship, thereby avoiding any weird Fleetwood Mac drama, then that would be great.

We immediately made plans to hang out tomorrow night. 🙂  At this point I’m so happy that I’ll get to see him soon because after the day I had yesterday I need a good distraction.  Not that he’s just a distraction.  I really like him too.  He’s a great guy and so far it seems that he’s just as smitten with me as I am with him.  Could he be my moth?  I could definitely be his.

As a side note…life in New Orleans has been very interesting so far.  I’ve had a lot of fun here, drank quiet a lot here, shed a few tears here, met a few crazies here, and met a lot of talented artists and musicians here.  There’s a reason why this is called the city that care forgot, and I think it’s starting to rub off on me.

Happy humping!