Smitten with Him

grown-up stuff happens here sometimes

Crazy Times

The last two years have been all over the place.

More bad than good, sadly.

You know, sometimes, no matter how positive you are (or try to be), life is just shit?

I moved across Denver a little over 2 years ago.

A week after that, my car was stolen. Presumably by an ex-boyfriend.

Last summer (2017) I finally lost my real estate accounting job with the crazy girl and the incompetent upper management.

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Mr. Nice Guy

So… My Friday night date that was cut short… Yeah…

But it started off splendidly!

For some quick background. Mr. Nice Guy works in the same office as me, just a different division (not like Mitch, who is an independent contractor working directly for my division – and, incidentally, has a girlfriend now. Go Mitch!). So, we have worked ‘together’ for the past 3.5 years and see each other frequently – more so in the last several months leading up to Friday’s date.

The first couple of years we would cross paths and have brief general conversations in the ‘lunchroom’. To be honest, he creeped me out a good part of that time because he was always staring at my boobs (to be fair, they are pretty nice! 😉 ). But, once we started talking more and discovered we had more in common, he stopped looking at my chest so much and started talking to my face.

He knows quite a bit about my most recent ‘dating’ blunders: Alaska, Rock Star, most of the unsuccessful dates in-between…

He’s been divorced for several years and hasn’t gone out with anyone for over four. Apparently, all he could find were completely insane women, so he stopped bothering to look. (A lot like how I am starting to feel, as well as a few of the rest of you, based on reading your blogs 😦 )

He’d been hinting at it for a while, but he isn’t my type (too short), so I kept avoiding the subject. But, during the week after my Rock Star incident, I asked Mr. Nice Guy when we were actually going to go someplace together outside of work.

Then he asked me on a date…

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The Best Sk8-venture Ever!!

My weekend was just about as perfect as a vacation weekend could be.

Unlike Loserman last year, my ride (Mr R) was precisely on time.

Everyone arrived at the airport with plenty of time to get through security. We even had enough time to sit down and have a nice breakfast!

Breakfast on the way to KC

Eleven of us flew (on the same flight, mind you! One is missing from the pic in the far left corner) and one drove. It was unbelievable that so many people went along! 8 boys, 4 girls…

Everything went so smoothly: our flight was on time, we got good rental cars, we had time to stop and get groceries and lunch and alcohol, our rooms were ready when we got to the hotel/s (I stayed across the street because I booked my room in the skate party room block at the host hotel; their reservations were made too late to get the 5 rooms they needed)…

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A Temporary “Problem”

Before I wrote my Signatures post last week, there was a little bit of “drama” with Doom-n-Gloom.

After all this time, he still doesn’t have any type of government-issued picture ID! He wanders around with a ratty old County-Issued Birth Certificate that the state of Colorado won’t even accept as legitimate proof of identity and his photo ID from work. (I wrote my Is a Drivers License Important? post over 2.5 years ago)

When he gets carded at liquor stores, they won’t sell to him because he can’t prove his age. He then argues with the cashier because he is “obviously old enough to buy alcohol, gray hairs and all!” Of course that never helps, but he feels the need to do it anyway.

He has to call and make special arrangements if he needs to take an airplane anywhere. He gets to go to the Special Kids line… I’m so glad he doesn’t travel often, and never with me.

He can’t even get into a marijuana dispensary, let alone buy the shit!

Two weeks ago we went to a Notary Public at UPS to have our divorce papers notarized so I could file them with the county court.

Of course, the Notary would not notarize Doom-n-Gloom’s signatures because he could not prove he was really him.

I was absolutely furious.

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The End?

Loverman dropped me off at almost midnight Sunday night (almost two days early) and he took the catalytic converter (aka = cat) off of my truck, Bear, before he left. I have to pass emissions in January and he has been promising to replace my cat before then. We had a brief conversation about it on the hellishly-uncomfortable drive home.

He left and was supposed to text me when he made it home safe. I wasn’t at all surprised when he didn’t.

While I was getting ready for bed, I emailed Loverman a lightly-edited version of what happened last year. Re-reading it broke my heart; I was hoping that it might stir a little emotion in him as well. I didn’t expect that he would read it for a while (or at all), I just wanted to put it out there, so he could see how *I* remember last year.

I was finally in a peaceful place and relatively comfortable. It wasn’t where I wanted to be, but at least it was comfortable. So, I fell asleep waiting on his text.

I woke up Monday morning and surprised the hell out of my family that I was home. I walked Thing #2 to school because she felt bad for my pathetic self. When Doom-n-Gloom got home from work that morning we talked briefly about why I was home so early. Thing #1 woke up later and we talked about what happened and she put a new perspective on things:

Maybe he was feeling really guilty about disappointing you so much all on the first day and he just couldn’t forgive himself for it. Then, when you didn’t get angry with him, it just festered inside because he had no way to release it.

Such a wise point.

Then, the other day, a friend commented:

I feel like after reading both stories that there is more to this story than either of us may know. Two things come to mind that may be possible…he thinks he knows something, like he saw something on your phone, or somebody told him something… or…There could be another woman. I don’t think it is anything you did, I think there is more to the back story than you may be aware of. That is what my gut is telling me…

NOTE: I’ve been thinking about that a lot. Maybe he found the condoms in my purse. Maybe he got divorce papers from his wife (he no longer has a relationship status on Facebook). Maybe he talked with his Mom about going to KC with me and she said something… I don’t fucking know…

Regardless, if he would have said something, then we could have talked about it.

Then I would at least fucking know…

At 9AM that morning I got a text from Loverman (he is RED and I am BLUE):

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That was the end of it.

Thing #1 and I sat and watched some recorded TV shows, I wrote a bit and the day passed uneventfully.

I did a lot of ruminating.

I went out and checked the center console of Bear to get my things and see what “Hawaiian Stuff” he was talking about. (Incidentally, he had found some marijuana ‘wax’ in a parking lot a few days before our sk8-venture. We were going to try it then. I had forgotten about it.)

Also, he left me his spare set of keys to my vehicles. They are were his spare set. They belonged to him. I gave them to him. *sigh*

And he left them for me on his JESUS-fish key chain.

You know…. If the douche-nozzle is trying to tell me something, why the fuck doesn’t he just say it already?!?!

For fuck sakes!

Was that him breaking up with me??? Because it sure as fuck appeared that way to me!

Please help me to understand this!?!

I moved away from the crazy state of Minnesota to get away from innuendo and passive-aggressive bullshit. I’m not going to play games with Loverman, no matter how much I think I love him! No matter how much he wants to!

So…

After no contact for over 2 days, Loverman posts twice on Facebook Wednesday evening.

NOTE: this is something on which I have very strong negative feelings: people airing their personal drama all over Facebook. To me, Facebook is a place where I keep in touch with the people I care about. If I have problems (aka: personal drama) with those people, I take it off-line and communicate with them like we are adults.

Because we ARE adults!

Loverman’s first status update was on his page:

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“Messed up a little bit”?!?!?! He’s kidding, right?

“My Fault!” ?!?!?! Was that an apology?

Were we even on the same fucking vacation?

Was that his way of saying that *I* fucked it up?!?!

(I hate feeling this way about him, by the way. I used to trust this asshole with my complete and total vulnerability! I think he is still buried somewhere deep down in my heart, but I can’t figure out what in the bloody hell is going on right now. Have I stepped into the Twilight Zone? Did I get hit by a bus and I am currently in a coma and this is all just a horrifically bad dream from which I will wake up and be relieved and thankful?)

He got his ass handed back to him in family comments on that post. Boy, are they angry with him for blowing them off! Especially his two eldest daughters. But, like both of them said, they’re used to it. *smh*

I swear he likes to fuck up so he can have people be angry with him. What the fuck is up with that?!?! For the record, I don’t actually want to be mad at him — it’s just that he was such an epically huge prick this time that it’s difficult to forgive/accept his behavior.

Then he had the balls to post a status update on MY page!!!! He couldn’t call me or text me or write me an email, or even fucking Facebook private message me?!! He has to post his stupid drama on my page; like I am some kind of 14-year-old-girl just like his ass.

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I haven’t ‘liked’ any updates or comments. I have simply replied, “You’re welcome” to his post on my page.

Maybe you all can provide me with some guidance and enlightenment because, I have no idea what to say.

And, right now, I think I’m okay with that.

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Words About My Weekend

I have all sorts of thoughts racing around in my head. If this is fragmented, I apologize. It’s just my frustrated thoughts.

The trip to my Caregiver last Friday night went much worse than I expected. *sigh*

Like every other time when I go to buy my stuff from her, I gave my Caregiver a hug right away, put my money on the counter, and asked her for what I wanted.

This time she said, “I don’t think so, Hita. Not right now. First I think we need to talk about what’s been going on at work the last couple of weeks. I’m really upset with the way you’ve been treating my daughter .”

The look on her face and the tone in her voice led me to believe that she was going to be cutting me off.

I asked if I could sit down and take off my jacket (I wanted to get comfortable for the rest of my “talking to”, and I also wanted to listen to what she had to say because I really respect this woman). She told me to make myself comfortable and then asked me if I wanted a glass of water.

“No, thank you.” I responded.

Before I went over to her house, I expected that she was going to want to talk with me about how things are going at work; about my interactions with her daughter. I actually wanted to talk to my Caregiver about it and see if there is a different way that I can approach her daughter.

I also hoped that maybe she wanted to hear my side of the story.

She didn’t, at least not until all of the very worst things had been said.

I am an idiot to have thought that initially would want to hear my side of the story. According to her daughter, I had been a complete ogre to her for the last two weeks.

My Caregiver proceeded to stand in front of me and tell me all the things wrong that I had said to her daughter.

The Off-the-Chain-Crazy-Girl that I work with has been lying to people outside of my normal circle (yet whom I still respect) about what I am saying to her. Apparently, I told the Crazy Girl that I don’t want to be best friends any more (???), and I told her she treats me just as badly as she treats her boyfriend (every time he makes her unhappy she threatens to leave him, then she fucks him later to ‘make it right’ – I would be happy if she left me!).

I never said a single one of those things to Crazy Girl.

I guess I make the poor girl cry every single day and now all the people in my office can’t stand being around me because of it. The exact words from my Caregiver’s mouth were, “Nobody in your office likes you right now.”

My heart fell out of my chest onto the floor and I think I stopped breathing. I thought that most of the people I worked with, the 5 agents in the office, liked me just fine. Boss-Lady gave me my annual review just last week and told me that I was doing really well working with the people around me and is proud of my improvement.

In my head, I was ready to put my jacket back on and leave. But, like I said, I respect this woman. She has helped me through some difficult emotional times and I appreciate her straightforward point of view — and I really REALLY wanted to buy my drugs(!!!).

Eventually, after she had broken me down to the point of trembling and barely being able to breathe, she let me defend myself.

I told her that I understood her protecting her daughter and I appreciated it because I have daughters, too.

I explained that I never said those things to her daughter. Not once. Ever.

I said that Crazy Girl has a tendency to take things very personally when I am simply being professional. I explained that I have been a trainer at several of my past jobs and have NEVER had these kinds of problems when I am trying to teach someone something.

It’s like Crazy Girl is holding me responsible because she feels stupid when she finds out how simple the thing was… You know? She even calls herself an idiot after I help her. *I* don’t.

My Caregiver heard everything I had to say and apologized for hurting my feelings and bringing up the whole thing.

But she had to. In order for our relationship to survive, she had to concede a small bit and I had to listen to an hour of slander.

It hurt and I am SO glad that I had today off (Columbus Day, bank holiday).

I don’t think it was a long enough time to erase the hurtful things I heard on Friday night. I will just have to hunker down and work on the budgets and try not to think about the lies that my crazy co-worker is telling about me behind my back. *sigh*

I don’t know how to be anyone else but myself…

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Saturday night, right after I parked my truck at the skating rink, my friend ‘Amy’ knocked on the passenger window and asked if she could get in. She needed to talk.

I unlocked the door. She sat down next to me, closed the door and started to cry.

She told me that, about a month ago she got herself involved with Sexy Skaterman. She had just broken up with him that morning.

It turns out that she couldn’t handle all of his sexy talking to other women (and sexy touching). Even when he told her that he was “just talking to them, baby. It’s nothing.”

Last Thursday night, someone approached Amy and told her that she shouldn’t get involved with Sexy Skaterman because he was a player.

That, along with him touching some other woman all night Friday while they were supposed to be on a date, made her rethink her “relationship” with him! Then, he took her home and acted like it was no big deal.

She couldn’t handle it and broke up with him. She was glad to see that I showed up to go skating Saturday night because she didn’t know if she would have been able to make it by herself.

I had no idea this woman was involved with that asshole.

But, apparently Loverman knew all about it.

And when I told him about it later while we were talking on the phone, Loverman said, “I told you I didn’t like that guy. I know he’s a player. If I ever find out that you slept with him, you will be SO sorry. I get so angry when I see you talking to him.”

First, I guess I’m glad that I didn’t sleep with Skaterman.

Second, I am kind of grateful to see that Loverman is finally claiming some kind of ‘possession’ of me.

Third, what he said really hurt me. I can’t figure out where I am at with Loverman. He’s very jealous and scared that I will fuck someone else, but he practically throws me into their arms with his vocal and blatant lack of trust.

I tried to reassure him by saying, “I’m not going to fuck Skaterman. I know what kind of douchebag he is and I am glad I haven’t fallen under his spell. I just wish that you could hear me when I tell you that my heart is all yours. I wish you could see it. It breaks my heart when you tell me how much I don’t care about you.”

Loverman wouldn’t hear me. He was blinded by jealousy and focused on the fact that he thinks (rather, he knows) I am definitely going to fuck Skaterman (which I am not).

I got upset with him and asked him to change the subject. I told him that it would be a lot easier for me to NOT screw around on him if he wasn’t constantly telling me he knows I’m going to.

When he gets like that I can’t talk to him. He’s completely blinded by jealousy and rage at all of his exes.

But, instead of getting my feathers ruffled this time (because he is partly right about me), I let him be angry with me for potentially cheating on him with someone I didn’t. Even though I could have because Loverman is always telling me I am going to anyway.

I realize the last paragraph was practically unintelligible. I just hope you could understand what I am trying to say…

And I haven’t even had a single drink since the bottle of wine when I got home Friday.

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It’s The Thought That Counts

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You may already have deduced this, but I am a chronic weed smoker. Been that way for over 20 years. Kids know, parents don’t.

I smoke it to calm my anxiety. It’s like my Xanax. It has been that way my entire adult life. I also have a seizure disorder, so I smoke to avoid some of that bullshit. Seizures suck — for me and all the people around when it happens (and I totally hate the way prescription seizure meds make me feel. Been there. Done that).

I live in Colorado, where it’s now 100% legal for 21+ and has been medically legal since before I moved here 7.5 years ago.

I have a Caregiver who grows some of the most mind-blowing buds you will ever smoke. She is totally awesome. Not only is she my medical-marijuana Caregiver, she’s like the mom I always wish mine was. Once a month I go over to her house and pick up my “prescription” and we have a mini-therapy session. I love that woman!

It’s very likely that the amount of pot I smoke in a day would fuck most of you up for the better part of a week. Every once in a while, I skip a few days and let the THC and Cannabanoid levels in my body lower, but not very often. It’s very rare you will find me without marijuana on my person in some form.

I love the feeling of serenity and inner peace that I feel when I am high. It also helps me to focus my scattering thoughts on just one thing. And, unlike alcohol, it does not lower my inhibitions. I’m just sane(r).

There are times when you can tell that I am stoned and there are times when you would never, ever suspect. I have been high for so long that my coping mechanism, in this aspect, is quite impressive.

Anyway… The point of my telling you all of this is so I could tell you a very short and sweet story-within-a-story.

Last Thursday night was an amazing date night for me with Loverman. I tried something new and acted a little differently on the advice of a new friend.

When we left each other Friday morning, Loverman said to me, “There’s something for you in your truck. But don’t look for it, it will ruin the surprise! Let me tell you about it later today.”

OMG! How cute, right? So, I said, with a twinkle in my eye, “Okay, baby. I will try not to look, but if I find it on accident don’t be mad.”

“Mamacita!” (he calls me that all the time) “You better not. I want it to be a surprise. You would never find it on accident.”

I did what I was told and I didn’t look for it (much) and I definitely didn’t find anything.

At 4:45PM I received the following text:

Your surprise is in the driver’s door. It’s a small baggie. This guy didn’t want to go into work with it so he gave it to me to throw away.

I honestly think my face actually lit up! It’s bit deviant, but how totally sweet! At his security job he confiscated someone’s bag of weed and then he saved it for me!

When I got home I checked the door where he said and found a tiny bag of shake. I suspected that it was going to be pretty bad stuff but I really didn’t care because he thought of me!

I responded:

You’re so sweet! Sometimes you amaze the hell out of me. I love my surprise!

Because I did. Super-bad-ditch-weed or not.

You know why it’s even more of a surprise? Because Loverman has been trying to get me to stop smoking pot since he met me.

While we were on our sk8venture last November, we got into a pretty big disagreement (for us. We hardly ever disagree. 6 years and 3 ‘fights’) and I was wound tight as a spring. As we finished up our heated discussion in his truck and got ready to go into the hotel, I told him I needed to smoke up to calm down and I asked if he wanted to join me. He said, “No, babe, but you are more than welcome. Just don’t stay out here too long” then he went inside.

When I got back to the room he was lying in bed watching something on TV and I asked if I could get into bed with him. I was relaxed and apologized for the crazy-me from earlier and we made up…

I should have just told him I needed to get high earlier and I think we could have avoided an entire night of stress, but he didn’t want me to be doing drugs so I was trying not to.

I think that’s when he started to understand more about why I smoke it and just accept the fact that I do. Frequently when I am with him I am high, but I have never smoked in front of him.

It turned out to be super-bad-ditch-weed. LOL! But I don’t give a shit.

Because it really is the thought that counts.

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Who Knew?!?…

Woo hoo! I’ve been doing this for years!

The Pros and Cons of Mixing Marijuana and Yoga

Yogi fans and recreational pot-users weigh in with sage advice.

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Admit it — with all this wellness and legalization on the rise, combining these two recreations has crossed your clever mind. So let’s just get it out there on the table like the healthy communicators we are.

What are the benefits of extra-zen, cannabis-aided yoga?! What are the potential downsides of bending backwards while high…?

We’ve got those answers for you, and more, thanks to one future-yoga-studio-owner who asked the question and prompted quite the discussion. Here’s what people — who’ve paired the activities before — had to say.

Pros:

  • Can increase focus and enrich meditation
  • Can allow for a greater feeling of connectedness with others
  • Can enhance body awareness
  • “Marijuana can often enhance your ability to focus on one thing, and with well trained and compassionate teachers that make sure the students aren’t pushing themselves and are within their limits I think a wonderful balance can be struck.”
  • It is an amazing experience that helps open my mind and body to learning. I feel relaxed, more willing to challenge myself, more connected to my yogi community in class, and the meditation/visualization exercises are extremely enjoyable.”
  • I used to enjoy a few hits and then attend a restorative class called “Sunday Sanctuary” and it was like heaven. Very relaxing and I found I was MUCH more aware of my body and breathing.”

Cons:

  • Can cause anxiety (aka: paranoia)
  • Can lead to over-stretching
  • Can make it logistically difficult to drive to and from the studio…

I personally find that marijuana interferes with meditation, which is the main part of my practice personally, but some Shavite sects still ritually use it. Sadhus, which are renunciate yogis, regularly use it.”

I tend to pull something if I’m not totally paying attention, were I high I know I’d fuck myself up even more.”

Some people experience high levels of anxiety during their first time being high. I’d imagine the meditative components of yoga would ameliorate most newbies” anxiety, but not all. Just something to think about.”

I used to combine the two, but I came to realize that when high, I was not as mindful as I could be (I was more absent-minded than undistracted and focused) and a few times, I actually pushed myself into a bad place for my joints because I was not mindful.”

For those still interested in grabbing their best bud and trying out the hybrid activity, here are some words from the wise:

Caveats of doing yoga high:

  1. Use a vaporizer instead of a pipe “Can be used inside without leaving a haze, and easier on the lungs for a breath-oriented practice like yoga.”
  2. If you go to a class make sure your teacher’s not high (LMAO – good one!!) “I think good teachers could make sure the students are safe regardless of sobriety. I wouldn”t condone the teachers being high.”
  3. Be experienced in both pot and yoga before you try it “Since it numbs pain, I”m conscious of being too high and pushing stretches too hard. It might end up causing damage. I would only suggest it for experienced pot smokers who also practice yoga.”
  4. Consider trying it with restorative yoga “While I probably wouldn”t participate in any kind of power yoga or ashtanga after dabbling with weed, I do love some nice hatha, light vinyasa, and ESPECIALLY restorative!!!”
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