Buh-Bye 24-7 Program

Saturday night, I had the party I've been waiting 18 months to throw.

The 24-7 Program has re-located OUT OF MY NEIGHBORHOOD!

If you recall, it was hell being here, but now they're gone (buh-bye career drunks and druggies, buy-by all that traffic). The turn out for the celebratory party wasn't as good as I expected with 6 people not RSVP'ing, but Jen, Rob, Paula and I had a good time anyway.

The news team stopped by with a camera, and I wished more people had shown up, but all was well. I didn't bother to watch myself on TV last night. I look like shit on TV anyway.

But the 24-7 Program is gone. Thank GOD!

Here's what I've learned:

1. Most people are lazy though good-intentioned and while they might volunteer to help you with your community project, expect to have most of the burden fall upon your shoulders.

2. I will NEVER again take for granted how lovely it is to have a quiet neighborhood.

3. I will NEVER again take for granted how lovely it is to hear the crickets, wind blow through the trees, or simply the sound of nothing.

4. Nothing works better for your enemy to see you mean BUSINESS than the threat of a good old fashioned, American lawsuit. Hate to say it, and I wish people did the right thing simply because it's the right thing, but they don't. Many people ONLY do the right thing when you threaten them with a lawsuit. But you can only play that card last. You must go through all other options first to give the enemy the benefit of the doubt.

5. A lot of people don't want to get involved not because they're "busy" as they tell you but because they're embarrassed by their ignorance when it comes to community/state/federal laws, civil disobedience and an overall fear of "big brother."

I'm going outside now in my P.J's to have a weekend cup of joe and enjoy the quiet. You don't know what you have, until you've lost it. So drop what you're doing and go sit outside and sit a spell. Trust me. It's easy to take that for granted until it's gone.

Red Flags: How to Recognize NPD

Ahhhh, while cleaning out my inbox (some 2,000 messages) I found this one from The Thing, also known as "He Who Shall Not Be Named," or "The Flaw."

I read two good books which have given me an understanding of him, and the nasty road he took me down. Narcissistic Lovers: How to Recognize Them and Move On and How to Recognize a Dangerous Man Before You Get in Too Deep.

Probably the most dangerous pitfall anyone can get into with someone who's a emotional vampire/or has NPD, is letting them make you go too fast.

Having said that, read his old email.
__________________________________________________________________
Natalie Jane
(he did this in 18 font in some old weird script)
There it is, my love. I will have this as the center piece inked into my arm. With that in mind, reference your other email, I will not throw in the towel on this relationship. I will give you and us all I have, all that we deserve. I intend for Natalie and Scott last forever.

Natalie Jane, I am content with you, and content is not something I've been - ever. You are everything I've ever wanted in a woman, best friend, and partner. I will make you happy and treat you the very best that I can. I do love you very much.

Did I mention I was looking at diamonds while I was out this weekend?

I'd really like to get "our place" somewhere in your neck of the woods someday soon. I may not be there much of the time, but it will be ours. I love the idea of having a home to go to with a beautiful woman already there waiting for me.

Thank you for the gift box. It was so you and that's what I love most about it. I have the card displayed next to the other one you sent me. The perfume on it permeates the air when I sit near by and I yearn for you.

I love you, Natalie Jane.

_______________________________________________________________________________
Red flag number 1: he wrote this after only one date when he flew out here to meet me.
2. who falls in love with someone after one meeting?


Care to identify any other red flags? As well as the unintentional comedy of this?

Summer Dork Shake Down

It's almost the end of summer. Having said that, it's time to re-cap my dates over the summer, and give you a complete list of jackassery. This summer there was a grand total of 4 dates. And here they are! Enjoy!

Spitter, Speed-Date Fiasco, Bad Breath and Secret Gay Guy.

Spitter--
Spitter was a fix-up from my ex boyfriend's ex girlfriend. Yes, a bad idea to have your ex's ex-girlfriend set you up. I was suspicious from the get-go, so I brought a gal-pal with me. As soon as he walked over to our table, I knew it was a no-go: 1980's glasses, and alarming gray-haired mullet that turned plenty of heads as he approached us. But the worst was yet to come. He must have had a grand cache of spittle, for as he was talking, a spot of spittle shot out of his mouth like a rocket and landed on my cheek, then two sentences later another one whizzed through the air and hit my other cheek. What do I do, I thought. If I wipe it off, he'll know he spat, and I didn't want to embarrass him. If I leave it on my cheek, I might retch. I waited a few seconds then sort of brushed my cheeks with the back of my hand making it look like I had an itch when he did it yet again. This time the spit landed on a nacho, just as I was about to put it in my mouth, then again and again. This happened no less than a dozen times. I declined eating any more of our mutually-shared nachos. No more than 15 minutes into the date, Spitter stops talking to me, talks only to my gal-pal then asks her for her number under the excuse that "maybe we could all share our numbers and go out sometime." Whatever. A guy who hits on your friend and gets her number as he's showering you with spit when he's supposed to be meeting you, pretty much says it all.

Speed Dating Fiasco--
Remember that post earlier this summer? Did I mention I occasionally see the one "date" I had walking to the jail next to my house every day? Apparently, he neglected to tell me that he must check in with his parol officer each day. What a catch!

Bad Breath--
Bad breath was also a set-up. Like Spitter, you can gather why. Firstly, I had my reservations all along, for he's considerably older than me, and I'm not sure how I feel about dating men two years younger than my mom. And it's extremely difficult to be a good listener when waves of toxic fumes are blasting your nose and eyes. Hello, Altoid? I had to breath out of my mouth the whole time which made talking rather difficult. The frightening thing was that he was sitting about four feet away. If his breath was that bad at such a distance, what would it smell like under your nose?

Secret Gay Guy--
You know, back in the day, like 30 years ago in the 1980's, it was pretty common to be closeted about your gayness. Not so much now. Except for Secret Gay Guy. I met him online, and after a few emails, he called me. Despite the super feminine slightly British voice (think Nicole Kidman on estrogen), I guess the clincher for me was that for no reason whatsoever he had to tell me three times that he was NOT gay. Yet, I had not asked him if he WAS gay. What's that old Shakespeare quote, "You doth protest too much." ?? WTF??

So that's my summary of summer dating. Don't worry, I'm praying for us all.

Up in the Air and H1-N1

Yippee! I'm finally back home, and on blogger again. Sorry I was gone so long, but where I've been this summer had no internet connections.

June left me all over the map, flying to Minneapolis then the Quad Cities to see my parents then back home to Rapid again then off to Manitou Springs, Cortez, Mesa Verde then home again.

So that leads me to blog about the nightmares of flying, layovers, missed flights and the rank people you get stuck sitting next to.

Delta's flight leaving Rapid was one hour late, of course making me miss my connecting flight to Minneapolis. The half wit at the desk here in Rapid, unbeknownst to me, re-booked me onto a flight that wasn't supposed to leave for another 4 hours (as if I'd want to hang out at the Rapid City airport for a couple hours). Once I figured out that he screwed up my flight, I angerily marched back up to the desk asking to talk with a different flight representative who got me on the next flight one hour later, BUT with an 8 hour layover in Minneapolis.

What do you do waiting at the Minneapolis airport for 8 hours? Well, catch the H1-N1Flu of course, as I became gravely ill 48 hours later.

But for now, I must rant on my final beef with flying. What is it about stinky people on small flights? Is it too much to ask for that someone take a bath before a flight, take a breath mint or not eat jumbo extra bean burritoes before sitting next to me?

Two of the Rankest Types of People to Sit next to you on a Flight:

1. The "Shower? Who needs to shower, not me!" type:

This cat next to me hadn't washed his hair in maybe a month or two. Even though he sat across the aisle from me, I could smell it, an odd odor similar to rusty tin cans, of bins of old grease sitting outside of fast food chains. I could actually see the cabin lights sparkling off the grease built up in his hair.

2. The, "I had beans for lunch and forgot my Bean-o" AKA, "The Farter."

On my second flight, I was pleased to see I would sit with a man my age who appeared to be well shaved and clean smelling. That is, until he farted. The first time was an alarming experience since he held it in until our stewardess was there asking us if we'd like a soda, my eyes watering with a Kleenex over my nose. "The farter" usually does this, waiting until multiple smellers are within his vicinity so that everyone else will think YOU farted, not him. I took solace in imagining him set on fire. The second time he farted was after we'd landed. He'd hopped up to grab his overhead bag. Then after he got it, I moved one seat over, still seated, about 4" from his butt, when he farted again. I actually wondered if he had pooped his pants.

Moral of the story?
I see they have travel sized bottles of Febreeze at the grocery store. That will certainly take care of the problem.

Feel like spraying me with fart-gas? Why go ahead. I'll be armed (squirt-squirt). Beware!

Speed Dating Disaster

Over-rated=speed-dating. I theorize that there's a small window of cute/decent men available (recently divorced from their first "starter-marriage"), but if you don't snap them up, you're S.O.L.

You're left with three scary options: 1. set-ups from friends 2. Internet dating or 3. Speed-dating

Jen told me it was front page news the other day in the Journal, and YES, I went. Thank GOD, my picture didn't show up. Save your money, folks; Speed dating ain't nothing like Sex and the City.

Quick list of perks (the only positive things I can think of to say):
1. They had nice black table cloths on the little tables and candles.
2. The booze was reasonably priced.


There were 9 guys and they went like this (hold on to your hats, folks, I ain't making this stuff up):


Guys 1-2: were so quiet I had to do all the conversation maintenance. And they were mumblers: I had to constantly say, "Beg your parden. What'd you say? Huh?" then I just gave up and pretended to listen, only both quit talking and surfed their Blackberries. Apparently I need a Bell-tone hearing aide.

Guys 3-4 were so obnoxious I wanted to punch them. One was a guy who either didn't age well OR was supposed to be in the ages 56-66 category. He wore a vest from the 70's and was like something from "Welcome Back Kotter." He thought he was VERY funny. The other guy was even STUPIDER and talked about a professor I know from BH and how she's still in love with her ex the entire four minutes. He looked like Marty Feldmen but with hair like Einstein. If you don't know who Marty Feldmen is, google-image him immediately.

Guy 5: wore, I kid you not, a fedora like Indiana Jones and thought he was Crocodile Dundee. He wore a leather cutaway coat past his knees and combat boots (hello, Columbine?). He was about 6'4" but only weighed maybe 130 lbs. He had strange disturbing-looking scabs under one eye, blinked incessently and had frightening viewpoints about nuclear energy of which he proudly informed me he was a nuclear weapons and energy clean up soldier in the Navy during the Gulf War. He was also missing most of his hair and had black circles under his eyes (nuclear fallout from an "accident"? go figure).

Guy 6: had to be pulled from the crowd because, AS I PREDICTED, not enough men signed up and a few backed out. Sadly, this guy was one of the best looking ones. This guy was a REAL winner. Firstly, he informed me he has no job because as he puts it, "I don't get along with anyone and they say I know everything then the bosses fire me." He was missing both canine teeth and also flunked out of college several times. Then a 28 year old at the bar walked over and told me he borrowed her car and used to date her younger sister then totalled her car. Nice. He also said, "I'm a fixer-upper kind of guy, kinda like fixing up an old car. I've got lots of issues." I ACTUALLY said to him, "So it sounds like you're a co-dependant's dream!" and laughed. NEXT.

Guy 7: was an engineer in green technology. He was OK but boring in kind of a mortician sort of way. He sported my favorite male fashion faux paus: tucked in polo shirt (who under 70 tucks in their shirts?) and sporty-stone washed jeans. He was one of three older men there who wore white tennis shoes (I was too scared to look and see if they were all velcro-closures.) He apparently didn't know how to keep a conversation going and I nodded off while he was talking so low I couldn't hear him anyway.

Guy 8: was actually cute and looked a tiny bit like Guy Fieri on the Food Channel. He's from California and rides motorcycles. However, when the bell rang, he couldn't WAIT to jump up from his chair and get away. He was also pulled from the audience.

Guy 9: never showed up.

Well, there you go. God, I fear for us all.

Liar Competition

Oh, boy! Cactus Man outdid himself. I found out he's dating someone new, the entire time he was recently sexting me. No doubt lying to her and telling her she's "the only one" for him.

He's a real whiz, that Cactus Man.
So a friend of mine went online and did a little investigatory work and found out that Cactus Man is dating a woman who was brought to court in a large case of auto-sales fraud. Then she found some pictures of her. She looks like a transgender at 6'2" and has suspiciously large looking adam's apple.

She also found out that Cactus Man was already sexting other women while he was already dating "the one." Let's just say he's the father of all dogs.

I can't believe I dated this pinhead.

I've got to get some better luck now after the Karma Dogs straighten out the universe after this trainwreck of man has finally gotten the last boot from me.

Let's cheer to Cactus Man finally exiting stage left! I'm going to a "How to Frame a Healthy Relationship and How to Recognize an Unhealthy One and Get Out" workshop tomorrow, none too soon.

There will NOT be another Cactus Man. Not if I can help it!

Revenge Humor and Survival

It's Called a Break Up not a Break Down, Right?

Oh boy, Cactus Man has been sending me sexy texts/emails again lately (after a two-month hiatus). And it's been trying on my nerves. He's in his up-cycle and feeling flirtatious with me again. It's not me he misses; it's the control over me he misses. That of course can be hard on a woman. You miss his touch, his words, but you realize he drove you straight to the therapist's chair.

You can, however, derive some humor from it.

When Cactus Man sent me a lame attempt at a sexy text, I wrote, "If I remember correctly, you didn't want me anymore. How contrary, Cactus Man." Of course, that shut him up completely because he wondered, "What's Cactus Man mean?" Hence, that helped me and it helped me re-gain my dignity. The healing process is so complex. Laughter, of course, helps a lot. And sometimes a playful revenge fantasy helps, too. Sometimes you can act on it. I also sent Cactus Man a short story I wrote based upon his unstable, sad, dysfunctional childhood. Slightly mean of me, yes, I know. But I changed all the names/locations, etc.

My Ideas of How to Get Over a Heartache from a Bad Person:

1. Make up a comic strip about them. Of course, this implies humor and a touch of artistry. Employ a friend to help you and don't forget to do it over a good six-pack of beer. Humor is a MUST. Transform him/her into an animal or object that befits him and what he's/she's done.

2. Write a short story about a character (based on your ex) who has his shortcomings theatrically displayed. Make it over the top. Better still, make it either a sad-comedy or tragedy (but make the character likable, so the story is more tragic). If you're really bold, send it to them, with no explanation at all.

3. Live well. Honestly, THIS revenge is the best medicine. If you hear from your ex, feel free to lie liberally within reason, "I finally lost that ten pounds," or "Doing pretty well. Won a Harley from a drawing at the rally last year." "Doing OK. Got a 30% raise in pay, but I don't want to brag."

4. Shower fantasies. Of course, imagining several fantasies in your head while you're in the shower is always gratifying. My current fave is picturing Cactus Man getting an invitation to my wedding in the mail and imagining the look on his face. And of course, in HIS invitation is a picture of my new man who: 1. has all his hair 2. is better looking and 3. younger than him.

Even though I fantasize it, you can too, and for some strange reason, it's immensely gratifying!

Go ahead. Try it! It works!