Smitten with Him

grown-up stuff happens here sometimes

Return of the Ass Hat (aka: Loserman)

asshat

I have finally come to terms with the fact that my truck Bear is not going to get fixed. At least not while *I* still own him.

Originally Loserman was supposed to have Bear fixed by the end of February. That was the deadline I had set for him.

When he didn’t meet that deadline, he set one for himself: the end of March.

In fact, March appears to be the last time in here where I mentioned it or Loserman. (Infuriation? & Oops! I did it again)

There have been some interactions in-between that I almost told you about. One time he came over and showed me everything that he has done and exactly what he was and would be doing. I thought it went well. It seemed like he was really doing something.

Read the rest of this entry »

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Things in Twitter Crush Land…

…could only be better if we were able to see each other more often than…

say…

Never!

Other than that, I actually do appreciate all the time we have to spend apart.

We each have to learn how the other works and we have to discuss things.

Instead of just getting into bed every time we wanna fuck to forget, we actually have to deal with our shit. And we are dealing with it together. (A novel concept, right?)

That’s what we talked about the other night.

We talk about his family, his work, his friends.

His fear, his discomfort, his inadequacies.

We talk about me and mine, too. Read the rest of this entry »

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Underwear

things

underwear1 Read the rest of this entry »

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Last Night

full of fuck

Last night I went on a “date” with a man I know through Loserman.

At least I thought it was a date. This guy has been trying to take me out since before Loserman dumped me.

When I arrived at the bar, he met me outside and told me that he had asked a few more of his friends if they wanted to join us, but everyone had declined.

I told him that I was kind of relieved about that because I really don’t do well in groups of strangers and if I had known that ahead of time, I would not have agreed to meet him there.

He apologized profusely, but I explained that he had no way of knowing that until then. He had nothing to be sorry for.

After a couple of drinks I started to loosen up. We were standing at the edge of the dance floor and I was swaying to the beat, he was starting to inch in closer and closer, when Loserman‘s slut niece calls this guy and tells him that she’s waiting at the entrance for him to come get her.

I call her “loserman’s slut niece” because she is 32 with 7 children by 7 different baby-daddies. Simply put, she’s a slut.

He cussed under his breath and told her where we were but she insisted that he go to the front door and bring her back.

He did.

When they returned to where I was, Loserman’s slut niece says, “OMG! Guys are such pigs! While I was walking across the parking lot, three different guys told me they’d like to ‘lay on me’ and that I looked like a good ‘piece of ass’.”

Wow! That’s the first thing she says in front of someone she doesn’t know?! Classy.

This guy introduces us and I say that we’ve already met at Loserman’s brother’s house a couple years back. I didn’t think she would remember me, but I remembered her. Loserman talked about her all the time.

She admitted that she had no idea who I was and apologized. I said there’s no need to bed sorry, I wasn’t hurt she didn’t remember me (I was a total bitch, actually. I don’t like this girl who is always out clubbing to get a piece of ass when she should be at home with her 7 kids!).

A few seconds later, she remembers and says, “Ahhhh, I do remember you. You’re one of Loserman’s friends and you were at my dad’s house one day when I came over.”

“Yeah and you dropped off your 7 kids. I got to meet them, too,” I retorted.

The guy I was out with interjected at this point and changed the subject.

We chatted civilly for a few minutes until the “Harlem Shuffle” came on and they both had to go to the dance floor for that one. I stood there alone awkwardly.

For a while I was trying to make eyes at a sexy man over by the pool tables, but just as I was going over to say, “Hello,” his girlfriend came up and kissed him.

Damn!

At this point I overheard someone saying how badly it was snowing outside, so I wandered over to see if it was bad or just an exaggeration.

It was a blizzard!!

I went back to my spot and waited one more song. If they didn’t come back to me at the end of that song, I was going to leave and send my friend-through-Loserman a message letting him know what happened.

While I stood there I started thinking: did his slut niece tell Loserman that I was going out Saturday night with his friend. Then his slut niece “changed her mind” about going when Loserman asked her to spy??? (I know, I know, probably not. But it isn’t out of the realm of possibility, right?)

As luck would have it, the friend guy came back and he said, “When the band starts its second set, I am definitely getting you out on the floor to dance.”

The very last thing I wanted to do was dance with Loserman’s slut niece so I said, “I’m sorry. I think it’s time for me to call it a night.”

Loserman’s friend asks with a wink, “What? Is it past your bedtime already?”

I knew he was kidding and I also knew that he had realized I didn’t want to spend the evening dancing with Loserman’s slut niece. I answered, “Yeah, a little bit of that and also it’s really snowing hard outside and I want to make it home safe. If I stay here and have any more to drink, I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that.”

When I got home, I texted the guy that I made it safe.

He responded:

DancingText1

Then he called me Sunday afternoon. I didn’t answer because I was out scraping the 5-6 inches off of my vehicles and my phone was dying.

After I didn’t answer, he sent me this text:

DancingText2

This was my response:

DancingText3

AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!

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Coincidence?

So, a couple of hours after I published my last post, where I said

“…If he wants to talk to me, he can reach out to me.

I don’t feel like chasing him down this time.”

I posted this on Facebook:

She will chase you

Loverman called me 10 minutes after that went up! No shit! He told me that his smart phone has been “acting-a-nut” the last couple of days (his new phone IS fucked up all the time) and he hasn’t gotten any of my texts, he can’t check his email and he can’t get on the internet. He said that he was calling me to make sure that I didn’t freak out like last time.

Coincidence? Or did he see my status and think about it for 10 minutes? Either way, I think the effort was sweet.

Maybe I really am a dumbass, but I think it was actually a sincere coincidence. We had a decent conversation – I was quite irritated at the beginning, but I chilled.

I do want to tell you that I am still backing off a bit from Loverman. Things are not all better. We have not kissed and made up.

I still went on my date with Mr. AM last night.

Stay tuned for the fun details!

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I hung up on him!

End Call

Tuesday afternoon, Doom-n-Gloom’s response was, “Whatever!” to my comment that Thing #1 and I would clean up after we made dinner. Maybe I am over-reacting, but I think I could actually hear his eyes rolling!

This was after a negative comment about how Thing #1 never cleans up after herself and how she is intentionally mean to him (wah! wah!). He said that she doesn’t eat his cooking because she wants to hurt his feelings — I know it’s really because it tastes like crap and that he intentionally makes things he knows she doesn’t like at least 3 days a week (he likes to throw himself in front of the bus all the time. He cooks food she doesn’t like and then complains to me that she won’t eat it. It’s stupid, but it helps him to stay miserable. Several times in the past I have told him he needs to stop making himself a martyr all the time. It doesn’t work). Also, if I am not coming home for dinner, he doesn’t make the kids any food! Yes, they are mostly-grown and self-sufficient, I just think it’s crappy that he only takes care of his kids when I’m around.

I’m not putting up with that shit any more!

I hung up on him and took the battery out of my phone.

That prick cares so little about me that he has absolutely NO idea what my work phone number is! And I am 99% sure he doesn’t even know the name of the company where I work (it would surprise the crap out of me if he knew! I don’t talk about it and he never asks…).

This is (pretty much) the same approach I took with my mother about 23 years ago when she kept calling me at 7 o’clock in the morning to ask me why I moved out (I worked in a restaurant and closed the place 5 nights a week. I usually got home around 4-5AM). She would ask the same exact question every single time, about twice a week, for approximately 5 months, before one day I simply told her, “I am going to hang up on you every time you ask me that question. I have answered it already and the answer will never change. Now, please let me get some sleep.” Then we would have an argument about why I can’t keep ‘normal people’ hours like her and dad.

I had to hang up on her 5 times before she got it. I will still do it when she says things that are inappropriate, but I have only done it 3 times since.

I have told Mr. Doom-n-Gloom dozens of times that if he doesn’t start trying to work things out with Thing #1, she’s going to move away and never talk to him again. He always turns it around and makes it her fault and says he will change when she does.

Watch out for those sharks!! They bite!shark attack

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2AM Photo Scare

It’s 2AM and your phone has just buzzed you awake, filling the room in white-blue LED light. You have a message. It’s a photo. No words, no explanation. Just a photo. Tell us all about it. And what happens next. Creative Writing Challenge: 2AM Photo

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Bling, bling! Bling, bling! Whenever I receive a text, my phone makes this awesome noise that my daughters call “Barbie Sparkles”. I like the sound because it’s loud and annoying enough to wake me up. But they are right, that’s what it sounds like.

Groggily, I roll over to pick up the glowing, vibrating phone from the nightstand. Even though I’m still mostly asleep I notice the time is 2AM. My brain knows it’s either the bank telling me that a deposit has cleared my account (I hate that sometimes I get those texts at 2AM!) or it’s my sexy Loverman sending me a sweet dream (I really enjoy those texts at 2AM).

I flip the phone open and open up the awaiting Multimedia Message. There are no words, just a picture message from Loverman of the driver’s side of the inside of my truck. The steering wheel looks like something smashed it into the dashboard, the airbag is deployed and deflated. Below I can see two legs sprawled out, mangled, jeans torn and bloody. I know exactly what happened. Loverman was in a car accident!

The grog immediately clears and I start to panic: Oh! My! God! Do I call the police? I don’t know where he is! Who am I going to call for help? He is the one I always call for help! I have to go out and find him! SSSSHHHHIIIITTTT!!!!

I frantically grab the clothes laying on the top of the dresser and spend 5 minutes falling all over myself because, seemingly, I cannot remember how to get dressed. It’s taking too much time and I am becoming more and more tangled with myself. “ARGH! This isn’t helping!!!” I think. But, I can’t think straight — what should I do? keeps screaming through my head over and over like a manic mantra. I am blinding myself with my fear, emotionally paralyzing myself in a state of utter panic.

It’s not until I get to my left shoe and I start putting it on when I start to realize how frantic I’m being. I need to slow down and be careful. I think about Loverman again and how disappointed he will be with me if I re-break that darn ankle so close to being deemed “healed”. Methodically, I concentrate on putting my left shoe on my healing foot and then I walk over to check myself out in the mirror because I don’t want to look like a crazy-meth-head-on-the-loose (even though I kind of felt like one).

I look acceptable. Freaked out! But, acceptable. I shake my body all over, take one more deep breath (inhale… exhale…) and I am on my way down the stairs to retrieve my jacket and my keys. Kitty was sitting at the top of the staircase watching me and he decides that he wants to go downstairs at the exact time that I do. And in the exact same footfalls, too. I avoid his elusive furriness for the first couple of stairs, but his fuzzy body lands on the third stair at the same time as my left foot.

“Fuck this!”, I hear myself say. I feel my body rolling down the last several steps and see my head hit the wall at the bottom. It’s strange how it all seems like an out-of-body experience. Am I unconscious? Am I dead? Did anyone hear and are they coming to help me? What have I done?

… … …

My eyes open with a start! I am laying back in my bed. There’s no pain. That’s strange. I move my head back and forth slowly. My neck’s not sore. Hmmmmm… I move my left leg around underneath the covers.  Hmmmmm, again. The ankle is fine. It doesn’t even feel sore…

Remembering what woke me up so abruptly, I look over at my phone and see that there is a new message. Hoping that it’s Loverman with a sweet and sexy bedtime message for me, I open it. I could use something to take my mind off that crazy dream! I notice, as I open up my phone, that it’s 2AM…

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