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My Band of Ex’s and O’s

Somehow I just managed to realize that I’ve dated a lot of damn musicians.  Enough to have my own band.  So here’s who would be in my band…

Teacher.  Duh, he teaches music full-time and is a professional musician.  He plays just about every instrument, but he’s amazing on guitar.  And, he sings.

Art.  I’d put Art on keys.  He can play guitar too, but he has more of a piano kind of vibe to him.  He’s a….Cad.  Yep.  That’s the word.

Bluegrass.  Ah, shitty old Bluegrass.  Unfortunately, he’s the only banjo player I’ve dated.  Being from Alabama, it would be a sin for me not to include the banjo in my band.

Rocketman.  I can’t even be mad at Rocketman anymore.  He was a sweet guy.  He just had some major issues.  He was a bass player, like me.  He committed suicide five years ago.

Ok.  So far we have guitar, keys, banjo, and bass.

Last, but not least, is drums.  This is going to have to go to Redbeard.  As far as I can recall, he’s the only drummer I’ve dated.  He’s also a tad crazy.  Today he posted a series of FWB memes on his Facebook feed.  Here they are for your enjoyment:

This bitch be like, “he crazy and needy.”

I didn’t respond in any way.  He’s just not worth it.  I’m sorry for breaking his heart, but he’s not alone in that.  There was a line of heartbroken guys before him, and there will be more after.

Until next time…

Peace, love, & happiness.

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2015: The Year of Bliss Attacks

light-in-the-confessionalIt’s been two months since my last confession post.  Buck and I have since moved to another state and have begun our little life together.  Originally the plan was that he would just move to be with me, and he did.  Once he got there though, I brought up the idea that maybe we should move back to his home state.  It made sense for several reasons, but the main one was that he wouldn’t have to pay out-of-state tuition. He also would be close to his family and friends.  Of course I knew I’d miss the friends that I had made in Podunk, Mississippi, but it also meant I would no longer have to see Teacher on a regular basis.

Teacher and I have become friends since he broke up with me in March of last year, but it was still a little awkward at times, especially once Buck arrived and was hanging out with me all the time.  Getting over the breakup with Teacher wasn’t easy, but I was proud that I had eventually recovered and moved on.  It’s not always easy to move on though when you have to see your ex-boyfriend every other day.  So moving to another state seemed like a blessing in disguise.

So there was a lot of driving back and forth for Buck.  He had to go home for Christmas without me while I stayed in Mississippi and worked through the end of the year.  My last day at work was the last day of 2014.  It seemed a fitting end to a crazy year.

tiny carBuck came back after Christmas and on January 3rd we moved.  It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been great. I had to leave 80% of my belongings in a storage unit in Mississippi because it wouldn’t all fit in his tiny car.  His car still looked like a tiny clown car once we had stuffed it to the gills with my clothes and necessities.  By necessities I mean some shoes, clothes, computer, silverware, one (just one) plate, my Monkey, and one Willie picture (my 1980s autographed album promo poster of Willie Nelson).  There were some other random things thrown in, but no furniture other than one large metal shelving unit and one small metal shelving unit.  They only made it in because they could be taken apart and thus didn’t take up much room in the car.

When Buck went home for Christmas he rented us an apartment that I had found online.  That was at least one less thing we had to take care of once we got to my new home state.  I’ve met his family, most of them anyway, and everyone seems to like me, which is a relief.  Now I’m just doing daily job searches and applying for every office-type job I can find.  He starts back to school in another week, so he’s been busy getting all that in order.

Now for the part that I haven’t really mentioned yet.  Buck and I have something in common.  We both like the D.  By D I mean dick.  Yes, he likes having sex with both men and women.  This is the point where I don’t really know how to explain things very well.  I feel like it’s important to share this information though because it’ll make things easier to understand in my future posts.

So, yes, he’s bisexual, but so am I.  I just consider myself to be more attracted to men than women.  So it’s not an issue, especially since we have an understanding.  The understanding is that we can have sex with other people as long as both of us either know about it, or both of us are present and/or involved in the act.  Hopefully that will clear things up a little.  If it doesn’t feel free to comment & ask any questions you might have.  Because at this point I’m unsure about how much detail I should give here.

He knows about and has read the blog.  I’m sure I’ve said before that I would never let another boyfriend know about the blog, but how often do I really follow my advice?  I think that’s why I’m so shy about writing certain things though.  It’s as if I’m afraid of betraying his trust or confidence.  I know that’s not true though because I asked him how he felt about it and he’s not worried about what I write.

That should be enough for now.  Hopefully at least everyone knows that I’m still alive and didn’t get murdered or abducted by the mysterious Prince Buck Charming.  So, yay! 🙂

Oh, and do I have some stories to tell. 😉  And you thought things here would get boring once I settled down and fell in love again.  Bazinga!

Peace, love, & happiness.

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Last Friday Night

Pop-music-alcoholSome nights just aren’t meant to go as planned.

Friday night was supposed to be a fun night out with friends.  It turned into one of the worst nights I’ve had in a long time.  It’s partially my fault.  I just don’t know when to say when, and I’m not just talking about alcohol.

It started out fine.  DC and I went to another local bar where Teacher was playing.  When we arrived there was a large table full of friends having dinner.  I knew most of them.  They’re a great group of people and they invited DC and I to join them.  Not long after we sat down, more friends showed up and joined us.  There were probably twenty of us in total.  We ate, drank, laughed, and enjoyed Teacher’s music.

One of the other people that showed up was Bacchus.  He brought a date and they joined us at the big table.  He and I had talked a few nights earlier about what might happen if I went Friday night and Viking was there, then if Mr. 7am showed up, then Paul Bunyan, and of course Teacher would be there.  It could potentially be one big cluster fuck.  Then Bacchus said “and then if you left with me.”  I thought it was funny and that the cherry on top would be me going home completely alone.  Turns out I wasn’t so wrong about that part.  More on that in a minute.

A little while later Teacher’s girlfriend, who I still think is the most bland person ever, showed up with her guy friend that was with her last time we were there.  She was sitting directly behind me at one of the pub tables, our backs to each other.  We never speak or even really make eye contact which is fine with me.  They didn’t stay long.

When DC and I went out to smoke the Viking showed up.  He said hello and went on inside.  The Viking is a guy who I’ve met a few times.  He’s also a friend of Teacher’s.  I saw him at another bar a few weeks ago when I was out with Bacchus.  We talked and had a good time.  Since the Viking and I were already friends on Facebook, I sent him a message the next day.  I told him it was good to see him and that maybe we could hang out sometime.  He agreed and said he’d let me know when he got back to town.  He works out of state.  Part of the reason I went Friday night was because I knew the Viking was going to be there.  I wanted the chance to talk to him more and maybe see if he was interested in hanging out more.

I had talked to Mr. 7am again on Wednesday, and he said he wanted to hang out this weekend so I told him he could just pick me up from the bar when he got off work.  I know I said I was going to stop seeing him, but I figured I’d give him one last chance.

He text me a little after 9:00 pm and said that he had to go home after work because he was going to get up early and cut grass before going back to work the next afternoon.  I was angry and hurt and embarrassed because I had let him do that to me yet again.  I told DC and she said I probably should give up on him because something just isn’t right with him.  I know she’s right and that’s what I should do.

tumblr_m7lajcEDVo1qchllgo1_500In my anger, I decided it was time to move on, so I changed my focus toward other pursuits.  I was no longer dickmatized and since Mr. 7am was no longer coming to the bar, I decided to try to talk to the Viking a little.  A bunch of us were outside smoking and talking and Viking sat down beside me.  We talked a little, mostly joking around and enjoying the crazy conversation that his friend and an old drunk man were having.  Things didn’t really seem to be going anywhere with him, so again, I decided to move on.

I had noticed the bar manager the few times that I’ve been to that bar, and I decided maybe I should give him a shot, just for kicks.  He did remember my name, even though I couldn’t remember his, but then again, most people find it easy to remember my name.  However, I wasn’t really in the mood to put any effort into him and quickly let that one go too.

The bar was getting ready to close so after one last beer I followed Bacchus and some others back to the room that he had gotten for the night.  That’s when the party really got going.  There were people in the room, outside the room, just everywhere.  I managed to have a really good time even though I wasn’t really on the prowl anymore at that point.  I was just having fun hanging out with everyone.

It did strike me a bit odd though that the Viking hooked up with the falling-down-drunk girl from a few weeks ago.  She seems nice, but evidently her standards are pretty low, as are his.  I was glad to have dodged that bullet once I saw how disturbing the “hook-up” looks from the outside.  They got caught making out in the back of a vehicle and then shortly after they left together.

tgif8So the numbers were falling but there was still a good crowd there hanging out.  I did manage to get into a conversation with the bar manager, and he seemed nice, but he also seemed to be stuck on the tall blonde bartender.  So again, I moved on.

Finally, we were down to the basics.  Just me, Bacchus, and Mr. & Mrs. Right.  They are friends that I met through Teacher and I adore both of them.  Eventually Mrs. Right decided it was time to go to sleep so she passed out on one of the beds in the room.  I was outside the room sitting on the tailgate of Mr. Right’s truck talking to him and some old drunk guy who disappeared at some point leaving Mr. Right and me to talk.

CqFOqHDHxZ8lAs we were sitting on the tailgate talking, I noticed that the curtain in the room was open about a foot.  Then I noticed the lights lower.  See, I forgot to tell you that Bacchus’ date had also passed out, on the other bed in the room.  She had been there for a few hours and was out cold.  While I was trying to be a good friend to Mr. Right and give him some relationship advice (I know I should not be giving relationship advice, so no comments on that one please) I saw something through the window that I wish I had never seen.

I was trying really hard to pay attention to Mr. Right talking to me, but it was very difficult considering I was watching Bacchus have sex with his date, with Mrs. Right asleep in the next bed less than four feet away, and I just couldn’t concentrate.  It was an odd mixture of shock, disgust, anger, and yet I couldn’t stop looking.  I was just praying that his date was actually conscious during it.  Otherwise, that would be pretty shitty of him.

So, there I was panicked and frozen sitting on the tailgate of a truck in a hotel parking lot watching my friend fuck some drunk woman (who told DC & I at dinner that she was married) while trying to give heartfelt advice to Mr. Right.  What a fucked up night it was.  It still makes my head spin just thinking about it.

To be true to the “confession” part of my blog, I have tried to be more than friends with Bacchus a couple of times, but only because he was flirting with me just as much as I was flirting with him.  He even came right out and told me one night that I’d have to make the first move.  I did and that turned out terrible.  He got scared and ran.  So that’s fine.  I think he makes a better friend anyway.

Wonderwoman_dodging_bullets_by_TopcowImage2dFI consider myself to be a good person.  Yes, I do bad things sometimes, but not terribly bad.  In general I’m a caring, compassionate, loving, smart, friendly person who tries to give people the benefit of the doubt.  So why is it that men keep choosing these skanks, plain janes, and old drunk whores over me?  Not that I really wanted any of those guys, but (and this is the narcissist in me coming out again) why would they not even try….or did they try and I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to take notice?  Either way, I’m so happy that I went home alone Friday night (the only part of the “plan” that actually went as planned).  I may not have felt that way when I first got home, but after a day or two of meditation and writing I realized where I stand with people and how many bullets I’d probably dodged.  So…yay me!

Happy humping & keep your options open, but watch out for those stray bullets!

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Dear Mom, please stop praying for me.

rezar-pray-spanish-englishWhile I was at work this morning my mom called.  Normally she doesn’t call much at all, and especially during the middle of the day.  The last time she called me at work it was to tell me that my grandfather had died.

I answered and she said hello and then asked if my uncle had called me to get my address.  He hadn’t, but my sister did text me last night asking for it.  She didn’t know why my uncle wanted my address, so I’m hoping he’s sending me a very large belated birthday gift, or something like that.

She asked how I had been and I told her I had been sick, but I was back at work today.  Then she wanted to know what was wrong and I told her it was just a stomach bug.  In a very accusing tone that always makes me nervous, “Are you sure that’s all it was?”  “Yes, ma, that’s all it was,” I said like a fourteen year old who had just come home past curfew.

vibratorShe then proceeds to tell me, “You know we’ve been praying for you, right?  Or we were, when we thought you might be getting married.”  Wow, mom.  Thanks for that.  My response?  “Well, you need to stop.”

So when my mom thought that Teacher and I might be getting married, she started praying for me to get pregnant.  She knows we broke up, or rather, he dumped me over four months ago.  So why would she still be praying for me to get pregnant?  Does she think that’s the only way I can get a man to stay with me?  By trapping him?  I’m afraid to even ask her.

Either way it freaked me out, because that’s just what my mom does.  My eye immediately started twitching after I hung up the phone.  I was supposed to call her back tonight, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I don’t need a man, and I don’t need a baby, especially a cute dumb baby with Mr. 7am.  What I need is a raise, a car, and a really good sex toy (see photo and link on right).

When I told my friend Sheldon about this, he agreed that Mr. 7am would probably love it if I got pregnant.  I, on the other hand, would have a panic attack.  So here’s hoping that mom has stopped praying for me, finally.

Happy humping!

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99 problems but a prick ain’t one

So, I had an interesting night.  It started out that I was just supposed to ride to a neighboring city to hear Teacher‘s band play.  I’m friends with a couple in the band and my friend Bacchus was nice enough to offer me a ride.  Everything was fine until I found out that TB was supposed to be going also.  TB, short for Talker Bitch, is batshit crazy and everything that comes out of her non-stop mouth reeks of bullshit.  I noticed all this when I first met her a week ago, but I was drunk and was trying to have an open mind and make some new friends.  Damn.  That was a terrible idea.

So she rides with us to the bar.  We get there and Teacher’s band hadn’t started playing yet, so he was outside smoking with all of us.  While we were there he made a snide remark about E.B. and asked what time he was coming.  I didn’t take to that very kindly and quipped back that I had a very heavy purse in my hand and his head makes for a very large bald target.  TB quickly got all hyped up and kept telling me that I shouldn’t let him talk to me like that.  First of all, it was a joke.  I knew that.  Given the opportunity and the right mood, I would probably have done the same thing.  No worries.  I was fine.

As the night progressed, and TB drank more beer, she became an attention whore to the tenth degree.  That was fine.  I was sitting at my little table drinking my Diet Coke and minding my phone.  Oh yeah, by the way, I was the designated driver, hence the “no alcohol for me” thing.  This was probably only the second time in my life that I have been assigned “Designated Driver” duties and I took it seriously…well, seriously enough.  I had one drink because someone brought it to me, but that was it.

We did listen to the band for a while once they started.  Teacher was awesome as always.  No surprise there.  Then during the break we went back outside to smoke.  Somehow during the conversation, TB came over to me, grabbed my hair, and pulled.  I almost lost it.  I said, “What the fuck! Not cool.”  Of course she and Bacchus tried to play it off.  She especially.  She said, “I didn’t pull it.  I just did like this.”  Then she proceeded to gently run her fingers though my hair.  That just made my temper flare even more.  Hasn’t this damn girl ever heard that you don’t fuck with a redhead?  She needs to be schooled.  I was tempted, but I didn’t school her.  Oh, my God, I wanted to choke the bitch.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.  I overcame.  I was proud of myself.

Then once back inside, there was this whole other drama with this meth head bitch who looked like Twiggy, if Twiggy was raised from the dead a hundred years from now.  But of course, a lot of the guys thought that she was easy prey and tried their best to get in her pants anyway.  Even though she was high as hell and crazy as hell.

Then there was the narcissistic chauvinistic fat-ass lawyer who thought he was hot shit.  He gave me the creeps big time.  I just backed away slowly and went back into the bar like a good little girl.

If all that wasn’t enough to kill my mood, then the next part completed it.

I walked inside to go to the bathroom.  The bar was closing up and Teacher was taking down the equipment.  He came up to me and said, “Would you mind driving me home?  I’d really appreciate it.”  Without thinking I said of course I would.  First, and I told him this, TB was about to give me an aneurism, and second I didn’t want him driving if he was drunk.  I do still care you know.

Well that didn’t go over too well with TB and Bacchus.  I honestly thought Bacchus would be ok to drive, but I guess I was wrong.  They got pissed.  I freaked out, but I didn’t let them know.  I said I’d see if Teacher would want to just ride with us.  So I went inside to tell him what was going on and he told me not to worry, just to take them home because I had already promised them.  FUCK.  Confession: I almost teared up when he told me to go ahead and take them home.  I’m not sure why.

I drove them back here.  I thought they were going to fuck in the backseat while I was driving the 45 minutes back, but that was mainly because that’s what happened the last time I was the “designated driver.”  I don’t think they did, and when we finally made it back I just wanted out.  We were waiting on her mom to meet us and pick her up, which was taking forever.  I was tempted to get out and just walk home from there, but I knew Bacchus wouldn’t let me do that.

Eventually, like this post, it all ended.  I got home, got some sweet tea, pulled out the laptop, and started writing this.  So there ya go.  Like the song says, ” I got 99 problems but a bitch prick ain’t one.”  She was definitely my top problem for the night.  No more TB for me.

Ahhhhhhhh.  Sweet silence.  It’s just you and me, girls & guys, just like it should be.

Happy (quiet) humping!

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P.S.  Yes, I’m actually writing a P.S.  My 40th birthday is next week.  Expect my 400th post on my 40th birthday to be one you’ll never forget.