tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54640498800853933812024-02-19T09:17:11.712-08:00Di-VersionsJust me thinking out loud.cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-63161880143563236482012-08-28T17:56:00.001-07:002012-09-01T23:49:45.381-07:00CHOICESSo, I'm thinking I'm going to try to turn over a new leaf. Swear a little less, laugh a little more. Focus more on the good people in my life. My family and friends are the best. Not focus so much on the King of Douchetown.<br />
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It's been three months since I went on my last road trip so I'm planning another getaway. Choices, choices. <br />
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Somewhere along the coast where it's a little cool and maybe even drizzly? Curl up near a window with a good book and a hot cup of booze..er...coffee. Watch it rain on the ocean. <em> If </em>it's raining. Dare to eat in a decent restaurant...alone. Smile at strangers. Maybe even wink at them, if I'm in the mood to wink. Drink some more. Hmmm...maybe.<br />
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Or perhaps I'll try another state. State of awareness? Consciousness? Kidding. Texas sounds good. Or at least big. I've never been there. But I hear they have cowboys and bars. The San Antonio River Walk sounds interesting. I could walk along the river. The San Antonio River. Since it's right there. Right? And the Alamo is, too. Remember that? The Alamo? Austin's only an hour or so away. They have celebrities and bars. And celebrities that <em>own</em> bars. <br />
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Maybe the local mountains. Cozy up in a cabin with a nice bottle of wine. Or two. Watch movies instead of Fox News. I watched enough Fox News with the Douche King to last a freaking lifetime! No wonder he's so angry. Oh, heaven...I love cabins! And there's a bar nearby. No cowboys...but that's okay.<br />
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Choices. I am lucky I have them.<br />
cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-5452649929124755402012-08-25T18:58:00.002-07:002012-08-25T19:17:19.363-07:00OWN YOUR SHIT LIKE A MAN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Really, this doesn't need much of a story or explanation to go along with it if you've read any of this blog. You will totally get it! </div>
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If you are a man and are going to enter yourself willingly into a relationship, watch it grow over a number of years, and perhaps even <em>nurture</em> it in your own stupid, lame-ass way, and then decide you have perhaps made a mistake, a very grave mistake, with nothing to support your decision (I love you, I love you not) and think perhaps it should no longer continue because you are just plain retarded, then have the effing decency to handle your shit like a man. </div>
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Sending an email <em>is</em> being a pussy about it. Period. </div>
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You are a pussy. </div>
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Any questions? </div>
cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-65239100281572574032012-08-24T18:44:00.000-07:002012-08-24T18:44:25.647-07:00QUIT BUGGING ME!Walked down the street this morning to the local coffee shop to grab a little morning wake up. As I was lazily strolling back home, sipping my cup of deliciousness, minding my own damn business for a change, blissfully unaware of the current craziness in my life (which I'd somehow managed to back-burner for a brief moment), I got jolted awake by...<br />
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<span id="goog_1957085095"></span><span id="goog_1957085096"></span><br />cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-45601001501116773282012-08-21T20:58:00.001-07:002012-08-23T16:20:07.405-07:00WINNING <div style="text-align: center;">
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Every now and then a song is just what you need to hear over and over and loud and clear. This is one among many of my archived faves...an oldie but a goodie...and fitting for the current circs. The list of many is for another day. But it includes Kelly Clarkson's "What Doesn't Kill Ya Makes Ya Stronger" and Sara Bareillies' "King of Anything." I welcome suggestions for this category, too. I do. Really.</div>
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Random interjection: A lady I work with asked me today if I had talked to "the jerk." I said no. She replied, "Good. You're a fun person...you're a lot of fun to be around. You need to find that person <em>you </em>think is a lot of fun to be around. He's out there. Go find him." Hmmm, I think I will. </div>
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Go ahead...sing along. You know the words! Everyone does. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR WALKIN'</span></div>
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Nancy Sinatra</div>
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You keep saying you've got something for me.<br />
Something you call love, but confess.<br />
You've been messin' where you shouldn't have been a messin'<br />
and now someone else is gettin' all your best.</div>
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These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do.<br />
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you. Yeah...</div>
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You keep lying when you oughta be truthin'<br />
and you keep losin' when you oughta not bet.<br />
You keep samin' when you oughta be a changin'.<br />
Now what's right is right, but you ain't been right yet.</div>
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These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do.<br />
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.</div>
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You keep playin' where you shouldn't be playin'<br />
and you keep thinkin' that you´ll never get burned. Ha!<br />
I just found me a brand new box of matches yeah<br />
and what he knows you ain't had time to learn.</div>
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These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do.</div>
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One of these days these boot are gonna walk all over you.</div>
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Are you ready boots? Start walkin'!</div>
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<br />cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-30817728494662853642012-08-19T12:01:00.001-07:002012-08-19T12:02:40.182-07:00STARTING OVERI'm finally coming to terms with the fact that I am single. Starting over. Party of one. Just me. No, no one will be joining me this evening. Or tomorrow. But maybe in a while. <br />
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So, what to do about it? I got my hair cut and colored. I've already spent too much money on clothes, but now I'm starting to put actual outfits together. I'm working out again. I'm in therapy to improve <em>me</em>. Working on my outlook. Taking some classes and taking up new hobbies. Trying to figure out what really makes ME happy. And trying to figure out what I want in a man. Because I do enjoy the company of...the right man. <br />
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Wonder if he's out there...maybe looking for me. <br />
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<br />cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-39915866546765521272012-08-18T23:42:00.001-07:002012-08-18T23:42:41.124-07:00WHASSUP? NO, WHAT'S SUP? In case you've never heard of it, SUP is short for Stand Up Paddling. It's the new craze where you go out on the water on a board somewhat similar to a surfboard and you stand up on it and maneuver yourself around using a paddle. It's wider than a surfboard and constructed a little differently. You're given a long pole with a paddle on the end of it, and about two minutes of instruction, and off you go. And I tried it today for the first time. What a great experience. I liked it so much I'm considering buying a board of my own so I can go whenever I want to, weather and time permitting.<br />
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I was a little timid at first. When you first stand up on the board, it seems so unsteady and unnatural. But within a matter of about 5-10 minutes, you begin to get a little more used to it and a bit more comfortable standing and paddling your way around the harbor. I guess you get your sea legs.<br />
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It was a very warm day. Of course I put sunscreen on, but realized in no time that I put the NON-sport type on my forehead and the crap was running into my eyes like nobody's business. And I just had to suffer through the burn because I had nothing to wipe the stuff out of my eyes. Next time I think I'll just wear a hat. <br />
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Anyway, it's a good workout. Good for your arms, legs and core. I managed to stay topside. My friend, on the other hand, forgot for a moment that he was on a board on the water, and turned his head a little too quickly to see where I was. That movement was just enough to catch him off guard, throw him off balance, and he took a slow motion spill into the harbor. I actually thought he was just joking around. But he says no. <br />
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We finished the day at our local brewery for some cold beer and munchies. We had a great time and will definitely do it again! <br />
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(I wonder how this old body is going to feel when I try to get out of bed tomorrow morning.)cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-73367769453263469642012-08-16T16:46:00.006-07:002012-08-21T16:10:44.693-07:00SHARE TOYOkay, this is a serious question. No, seriously. It is. What the hell is a fucking SHARE TOY? Bueller? Bueller? Anyone?<br />
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Yeah, see? You have no idea, do you? No, you don't. It's not in Webster's Dictionary. It's not in the Urban Dictionary. It's not even part of anyone's flippin' vocabulary! Except <em>his.</em> It was bad enough when he said it in conversations with me. But it was bloody embarrassing when he used that term in public. Made me cringe! Oh God, I was fearful he'd say it in front of my father. But since he rarely spent time with <em>my</em> family, there was little-to-no chance that my dad would ever hear that inane meaningless utterance come from a grown man's mouth. Share toy. Really. Sounds obscene.<br />
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Say it to yourself right now. Go ahead, say it. Share toy. No one's listening. Share toy. Share toy. Share toy. Just say it out loud and ask yourself, "What image does that conjure?" Well, I'll tell ya, it has nothing to do with some rubbery plastic device you might see in a porn movie (<em>if </em>you were to watch them...hey, I'm not judging). It sounds like it could be. Maybe. I guess. But it's not.<br />
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I've come to learn what he means by that expression. I'll try to explain. Say we're in a restaurant ("we're in a restaurant") and we order appetizers that we are going to split. Yep...share toy. Or a delicious dessert that is just too big for one of us after a big meal. You got it. Share toy. God, how ridiculous and retarded. And just plain stupid and wrong. <br />
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Share toy. <br />
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He almost ruined a trip to Kauai for me by using that term while engaged in conversation with a couple we did not know but accidentally bumped into as they were coming out of a restaurant that we were going in to. He asked them about the menu. They told us that the food was good and all served tapas-style. Yes, little appetizers. Uh oh, you already see where this is headed, don't you? Down that dangerous road called 'humiliation.' God, I prayed for him not to say it. I prayed and begged in silence. But...wait for it...wait for it..."Oh, share toys." He said it like it was the most natural response in the world. Oh, horror of horrors! I almost died on the spot. The couple just looked at him with blank expressions. I could almost hear the man thinking, "What the fuck did he just say?" They had NO idea what the hell he was talking about. And they turned and walked away without another word. Well, really, what could they have said to that? Really. Share toys?<br />
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I always figured maybe he got the term from some stupid little blonde cute-as-a-button girlfriend that may have said it to him in a little squeeky Mini-Mouse'ish voice. "Ooooh, look..a share toy...heeheehee." And she was probably just so damned hot that it didn't matter what blather she spewed, he would take it and accept it as real. Because he has a penis.<br />
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A man might accept a woman saying it...because of said dick...but no man in the history of the world would ever actually <em>repeat</em> it. Out loud. To another human being. No. Never! NEVER!!! <br />
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I don't make this shit up. <br />
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You're still here? It's over. Go home. Go. cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-73913641015043646312012-08-12T20:34:00.000-07:002012-08-12T20:35:40.296-07:00THERAPY 'R' MEYep, it's been a while since I've blogged. I know I talk all tough and everything but, honestly, I am really struggling with the situation I've been going through. I decided on therapy. Damn - she can't prescribe meds though. I'll work on that one. <br />
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I've been journaling so much I think I brought on premature arthritis in my writing hand. It got all swollen, sore and claw-like. Great. I now have a hideous writer's bump on my middle finger with a nice little HUGE callous on it. And I <strong><em>still</em></strong> don't have all the crap out of my head!!! <br />
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I'm making a little scrapbook of motivational sayings. Oh, so crafty. And I'll probably throw it out before I ever finish it. I'm reading self-help books like they're going out of style. I even read them <strong><em>in</em></strong> the book store so I don't have to pay for any more of them (and so the cashier doesn't see me buying them and confirm what a loser in love I am). I've written letters to him (that I will eventually burn but will never send). I've talked to my friends so much they are beginning to avoid me (love you, Kristi!). <br />
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My family is so over him. They don't want to hear that I'm hung up on someone that is not hung up on me (I'm a 'tard). My dad will immediately cut me off if I mention his name. My dad thinks I should be as strong as he is. I'm not. I mean, I'm not weak. But my dad is Mr. Unemotional. And that is an understatement.<br />
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I cannot wait to get beyond this. It's quite a bit more painful than the first go around. Love sucks! Losing love sucks even more. <br />
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So, wish me luck on the therapy. I'm gonna need it!cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-64865410655207100842012-07-26T22:28:00.001-07:002012-08-01T07:28:11.188-07:00BREATHE...IT'S OVERHere's the latest drama regarding the saga of "me" and "him." IT'S OVER!!! FINALLY!<br />
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I know that may sound funny now, after all this time. But the truth is these past three months have been helacious! Do I love the asshole? Sadly, I still do. But I imagine that will fade rather quickly this time around. <br />
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Out of the blue, about two weeks ago, I got two emails from him. They were sent at the beginning of my work week so I chose to NOT read them until the work week was done, in the event I got...that's right...let's all say it together...EMOTIONAL. <br />
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Well, having NOT read the emails, I was unaware and unprepared for the first phone call I had received from him in 2 1/2 months. My walls were waaaaay up high and very thick. I was less than warm and fuzzy. I was cautious and slightly cold. I had NO idea why he was calling me. I now have an idea, but I didn't have a clue at that time.<br />
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He asked how the weather was (so I knew he was back up north). He wished me a BELATED birthday. My birthday is in a few days. In fact, it is 11 days after his. That faux pas did not set well with me. This would have been our 5th birthday celebration together. I know. It's very difficult to remember something like that, and I should be kinder, gentler, and more forgiving. Ummm, yeah...NO!<br />
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He asked how I was doing. I said I was okay. I was still angry and in a decent amount of emotional pain. I told him he managed to bring out the ugly in me. He did say he had noticed that. Things were <em>somewhat</em> cordial at this point. But turning quickly. He got a bit pissy.<br />
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Then he asked me if he should not have called me. Hell, I don't even know <em>why</em> he was calling - but I told him he should have called me when he said he was going to. He immediately got defensive and said that would have been difficult since he had been so sick. What? What the hell was he talking about? I had no idea until later.<br />
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Oh, it went even more downhill from there, if possible. <br />
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He then (wrongly) assumed that I wanted us to go our separate ways. I responded with, "I thought you went your separate way back in November." Yeah, I wasn't really being easy on him. He didn't like that much. Oh well, it was how I felt. And after the crap he's put me through these past several months, I had every right to be bitchy. In fact, he should have expected nothing less.<br />
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With an attitude he had developed rather quickly, he said, "I'm sorry I called." I simply said, "I'm sure you are." I'm pretty sure he was thinking I was going to relent and backtrack and apologize and become softer. Nope...I just hung up. I get stubborn just like he does at times. Should I have hung up on him? Probably not. But I wasn't going to beg him to stay on the phone either. Should he have maybe been more direct and actually TOLD me the purpose of the call? Yes. Don't call me after a few months of not even bothering to answer any of my calls and expect ME to guide the conversation. Don't test the waters. Use that spine and tell me what you called for. Yeah, no such luck.<br />
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So...I opened the emails. He <em>missed</em> me. He <em>hadn't</em> given up on us. He was finally coming out of his "cave." Well, maybe I wish I'd have read those first. Our conversation may have gone differently. I'll never know. <br />
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I feel kind of bad. But only kind of. The second email stated that he was sorry he wasn't calling that night but he was sick to his stomach and was going to bed. So, he made himself physically ill just <em>thinking</em> about calling me. But still, I only feel kind of bad. Think about it. Calling me was so difficult for him, yet he worked up the courage to do it. Yet he never told me <em>why</em> he was calling. And he's made me feel pretty crappy for quite some time now, so my sympathy for him was not as strong as maybe it could have been. Does any of that make sense? Oh, who cares. It's my story.<br />
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I did try to call later to apologize for hanging up. He had already gone back into his cave, I guess. He had already resorted to avoidance. God, he is so flippin' frustrating! I tried a few more times and sent a few emails. I was really getting tired of it all. His immaturity is completely exhausting. And it fuels mine.<br />
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So, fast forward two weeks. I get an email from him asking me to not call him anymore. He said I cannot make him love me. Huh? I thought he<em> did</em> love me because that's what he told me. But I certainly was not trying to<em> make</em> him love me. I may have been trying to make him respond to me, but I have no interest in trying to make a man love me. Nor do I have any desire to be with a man who does not love me. And now I know. He does not love me. He wishes he did...it would make life easier (???) but he does not. Sorry. <br />
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What the fuck? It was like a short Dr. Seuss story minus the rhyme.<br />
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His email has been blocked and his number purged from my phone. I have, in a sense, deleted him from my life. The memories will fade in time. What a total waste of time these past three months have been. Game over.<br />
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On the bright sde, I will NEVER have to hear him use the term "share toy" again. Story for another day.cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-30559120116653192292012-07-12T12:05:00.000-07:002012-07-12T12:07:10.529-07:00THIS OTHER GIRL'S HAIROkay, so a friend and I at work were talking about her hair one day and how she was worried that it looked like this other girl's hair. It doesn't. Not even remotely. But she was concerned. And rightly so, if she was having those thoughts. Her hair is pretty and shiny and she has nothing to worry about. Nothing like this other girl's hair. I did suggest some hair colors she could ask for at the salon if she was going in to get it colored and for some bizarro reason decided she really <em>wanted</em> it to look like this other girl's hair.<br />
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Here's some of the selection: <br />
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Weathered Broom Stick</div>
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Broken Twig</div>
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Old Wooden Fence</div>
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Tumbleweed</div>
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Camel's Butt</div>
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50 Shades of Hay</div>
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Touch of Old Gray Mare</div>
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Rusted Dust Pan</div>
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Strawberry Blah</div>
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Betty GRAY-ble</div>
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<br />cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-54154027424010804712012-07-11T19:45:00.000-07:002012-07-12T09:03:10.413-07:0050 SHADES OF WASTE OF MY TIMESo I heard all the fuss about E. L. James' "50 Shades of Grey." Well, who hasn't, right? As luck would have it, one of the ladies I work with was just finishing up the book and told me she'd lend it to me as soon as she was done with it.<br />
I'm a big reader and can go through a good book super fast. I look forward to indulging that simple pleasure for about 20 minutes or so almost nightly before I go to sleep. <br />
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Anyway, she lends me the book and I start in on it that night. I cheated though. I read several of the online reviews before I borrowed it. The reviews mostly said the book was awful, but I figured I'd give it a shot and make up my own mind.<br />
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Well, what a seriously stupid effing book it turned out to be. A complete and total waste of my time. Thank God I didn't pay for that crap. I did read up to, and including, the much talked about Chapter 8...well, I merely skimmed Chapter 8, it was so retarded I couldn't bear to read every stupid word of it. Or even one more.<br />
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First off, I could not get beyond the utter Britishness of the main female character - yes, the author is from London or somewhere where they are British. Problem is, the main female character is supposed to be from somewhere like Georgia, I think, where they are not at all British. And she is living in the Pacific Northwest, which is not a particularly British-speaking part of the United States, is it? At least not when last I visited. I tried my best to relocate, in my mind, the story to a London town, of which I've been to exactly none. It made it difficult for me to see this story in my head, as I like to do when I read a good book.<br />
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And then, the plot (term used extremely loosely) of the story is so lame. Young plain'ish looking virgin just entering the real world meets slightly older gorgeous hunk of a humanitarian billionaire man who never works and all they do is fuck (blushing). That's about all I know. Maybe there is no plot or storyline. It was just too stupid for me to read anymore of it.<br />
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I didn't spend a dime of my money on it and not too much of my time, thankfully. And this was actually the <em>first</em> book in the Trilogy of Trash! Yes, there are two others out there! Lord help us - there must be a world of sex-starved, low-readers out there. This really <em>is</em> an awful book. Most of the reviews were "spot on" accurate!cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-25467689059573588562012-07-11T16:28:00.000-07:002012-07-11T18:03:50.684-07:00SERIOUSLY? WHO DOESN'T LOVE FART JOKES!?Well, besides my parents.<br />
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What are you waiting for? Check out this blog! <br />
<br /><a href="http://whofartedphotos.blogspot.com/">http://whofartedphotos.blogspot.com/</a> (free plug)<br />
<br />Don't just look at the pictures. Read it. Take it all in. All of it. Even the labels.<br />
<br />Freaking genius. Wish I'd thought of this! I've passed the link around the office and I can totally tell who's actually perusing it by the uncontrolled outbursts and the attempts at stifled laughter.<br />
<br />But then I'm really immature and so is my little brother. cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-32036895917505436662012-07-10T13:08:00.001-07:002012-07-11T15:45:46.639-07:00PARADIGM SHIFTWell, well, well...guess who <em>emailed </em>me? Yep! When I got back to my desk after lunch yesterday, there it was just waiting for me to devour it. But I didn't. My heart didn't even skip a beat like it used to do when we were "together" and I'd get an email from him and felt like a schoolgirl in love. <br />
<br />
It's just sitting in my in-box...not even taunting me. No, really, Bob...it's not.<br />
<br />
I used to tell him, "If you are going to send me an email that <em>might</em> upset me, please, please, please do not send it on a Monday or in the middle of the day while I'm at work. Please." I really don't want to get any kind of bad news while I'm sitting at my desk and have hours to go before I can leave and have to pretend that those aren't tears...I have allergies. No...I do.<br />
<br />
So, what does he do? Sends it at noon...on a Monday. Really? <br />
<br />
All I know is that it's quite short. Truth is, I'm not really all that curious...which speaks volumes about the strides I am making in my own emotional healing. He couldn't talk to me when I needed him to. He sent me emails full of things he couldn't follow through on. And he can't pick up the phone now to have a real adult "big person" conversation, so it really can't be all that important. <br />
<br />
Some friends have said to delete it immediately without reading it. Others have said to open it immediately (they're more curious than I am). And others have said to put it aside and save it for another day. Although, to be honest, I'm leaning towards deletion. But I think I'll just put it aside for now. There is no need to make any decision on it today. Or tomorrow. Or even next week. <br />
<br />
Another friend said I should forward it to <em>all</em> of my friends and allow <em>them</em> to respond to him. In any way they see fit. No, I won't do that - but the idea is somewhat genius, if juvenile. And would have been something I <em>might</em> have considered if I was a recently and unexpectedly dumped schoolgirl in love.<br />
<br />
I'm not a schoolgirl.<br />
<br />
<br />
UPDATED EMAIL ALERT: 07/11/12 - another email was received last night (about 7:30pm) - which also has remained unopened for the time being.cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-85966407202190253842012-07-06T09:37:00.002-07:002012-07-10T13:23:16.707-07:00RUN, FORREST, RUNGreat - now I'm having dreams about this guy. I'm trying to get him to sit down and talk to me but he keeps coming up with excuses to AVOID the "talk." Even in the dreams! It's awful. A simple adult conversation would have resolved all of this. Maybe the dreams are a way of getting it out of my system.<br />
<br />
I will never understand a grown man who is unable and/or unwilling to address the situation he has created. Even if he has to stand there and take what he deserves. Deal with it.<br />
<br />
That's right, big man, run away.cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-65768997360244971462012-07-05T16:42:00.003-07:002012-07-05T17:36:06.821-07:00DIRE STRAITSWell, your house was re-listed for rent yesterday. Yes, I checked. No rental income for April, May, June, July, and possibly August, depending on how quickly it rents. That's a loss of somewhere between $15,000.00 - $20,000.00. With the potential for that to go higher if you don't get renters in there fast. The agonizing wait begins.<br />
<br />
You had to pay an attorney to get the grifters out. You have a property manager to pay. You have a listing agent to pay. You've had to pay for repairs to your home. You still have to pay your mortage on that house and your rent in Jackson Hole. You have a storage unit with all your belongings in it out in Banning that you have to pay for or risk losing your things. You have property taxes to pay. Not to mention your daily living expenses and two dogs to feed.<br />
<br />
You said you depleted your savings prior to moving to Jackson Hole.<br />
<br />
Your timeshare payment is coming due. <br />
<br />
You have a business with slow paying clients. If they are even paying at all. You have materials to buy in order to get the jobs done. You have to pay the folks you contracted to do the work. You have to pay your quarterly taxes. You can't meet these obligations if you have no income from your clients. It's probably not the best time, in this crappy economy, to drum up new clients.<br />
<br />
You have two large dogs that can't stay at home and take care of themselves, so you have to travel to and from Jackson Hole via your automobile to check on things down here (home, family, business). That can get expensive, factoring in gas, food and lodging for each trip. And it's wear and tear on the car, which already has its share of miles on it.<br />
<br />
Your father recently had a heart attack followed by heart valve surgery that nearly took his life. You've had to spend time down here in California staying at your mom's during that difficult period. That didn't help anything. She was, in your words, a nightmare. But at least now you have a better understanding of why.<br />
<br />
Your girlfriend has been a raging lunatic brought on by lack of communication from you. She inundated you with voicemails and emails while she was overcome with confusion and heartache and no real understanding of your avoidance of her. She hit every emotion imaginable, from sadness to anger to compassion to sheer panic. All the highs and lows and everything in between. It has taken her nearly two months to be able to step outside of her own grief and figure out, on her own, the dire straits you are probably really in. Because you never communicated to her what was happening or what you needed, even if it was space. <br />
<br />
The damage is done. And still I hope it's not too late. While suspecting that it is.<br />
<br />
I hope someday you can understand that I was unaware of the possible devastating effects this has all had on you. You did not confide in me the severity of your situation. A short, vague <em>email</em> which did not convey much information at all was what I received. How was I supposed to understand? How was I supposed to provide you with support? I'm guessing that at this point you are in the struggle of your lifetime trying to stay afloat financially. And that is where your focus has been, is now, and will be for a while. Survival. <br />
<br />
I am sorry that you are going through all of this. I would never wish this on anyone. It's a lot to handle each of these issues individually, and overwhelming, to say the least, to get hit with all of them at one time. It would be enough to drive even the strongest of individuals to a breaking point. You admittedly, historically, can handle only one issue at a time. No wonder you have not wanted to deal with a relationship. I do understand that, even though I'm still <em>guessing</em> at this situation, for the most part, as you've still not spoken with me. And even though I would have done anything in the world to help you through it all. <br />
<br />I realize that you probably can't just move back in to your beautiful home at this point either, even if you wanted to. You have no steady income from which to pay your mortgage and other financial obligations. You need that rental income now to provide you with the income necessary to keep your head above water until somehow things turn around. <br />
<br />
Maybe you'll stay up there forever. Maybe you'll rent or buy a place in the desert. Maybe someday you'll come back. I have no idea. I'm still dealing with your lack of communication. I'm dealing with my grief at the loss of "us." And I'm trying so hard to understand it all.<br />
<br />
Again, I am sorry you are going through this. But I didn't cause your dire straits. I contributed, perhaps, to your level of frustration by my relentless hounding of you while I was trying desperately to find some understanding, answer, resolution, closure...anything, really, to what was happening to us. Maybe someday you will be able to step outside of your troubles and see that I was not your enemy. I just wanted to understand. <br />
<br />
Communication is key. It's critical. With one single, simple phone call, I could have been your greatest support system and the least of your problems.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-51792202035875991132012-07-01T23:19:00.000-07:002012-07-05T08:10:53.290-07:00I MISSED YOUI'm trying so hard to not be angry - but the fact is, I am. Yes, I know you are numb to the entire world and don't feel anything...good for you. But not, really. It's kind of sad. We talked about that 2 1/2 years ago. How it's sad. I can't seem to find that NUMB button on me...I'd turn it on in a hot second if I could. But I still believe in love and all that crap. I really do. It's what I want so I am trying to heal and learn from this. Not sure what I can learn though. I've no idea what happened - hard to find the lesson in that. <br />
<br />
So here I am all permanently puffy-faced and teary-eyed and broken-hearted trying to stop the raging shitstorm in my head. Is this what happens when you love someone? I was not clingy or jealous (maybe once or twice). Not demanding (or overly so). Typically patient and supportive (typically). Not looking for someone to pay my way through life. Just someone to share it with me. I was honest and clear with my desires. No hidden agenda. I'm gainfully employed, not bad looking, in pretty good shape. Sometimes funny, fairly intelligent. Can hold a conversation with some knowledge of what's currently going on in the world. And have an opinion on it. Have no giant hangups about sex. I'm thoughtful and kind. And I can cook. Seriously...WTH? I think I just wrote my singles ad. <br />
<br />
I missed you. You moved away and I missed you. I had a brief moment of insecurity. And I expressed it. Exposed it. And then the world as we know it went to shit. You were so cold to me the last time we spoke. "No initiative," you said, when I asked why you didn't call me back. It was not a normal message for me to have left you. A show of concern would have been more appropriate than the disdain and utter disgust you showed. I missed you. That was all. I was having a hard time with you being so far away. Let's put it behind us and move forward. Except that never actually happens. It never gets put behind us. It never gets forgotten. It just grows. <br />
<br />
I'd rather address these seemingly little issues. Figure out the why's and the what's and the let's see how we can fix it so it doesn't happen again. So they don't grow. And come back to destroy us. Because they always do. The little things. <br />
<br />
I missed you.cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-68284206814235784522012-06-28T19:08:00.000-07:002012-06-28T22:27:41.045-07:00DECENCYA decent person does not treat another person poorly. Nor does a decent person turn his back on a person in need. And a decent person does not break up with you without letting you know about it. Period. End of story.cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-84250984735466332192012-06-27T12:51:00.001-07:002012-06-27T16:55:47.786-07:00VENUS STATIONARY DIRECTYou know what today is, right? Today is the last day of this current cycle of phase 3 of Venus in retrograde. And you know what that means, right? Yeah, neither do I.<br />
<br />
So I Googled it and found this on the "Darkstar Astrology" website. Of course I only copied and pasted the stuff I <em>want </em>to apply to me (and some random stuff I can't pronounce and don't understand). But it might make me look smart.<br />
<br />
I love where it says that the negative aspects of our relationships and own weaknesses in <em>how</em> we love has peaked. No shit. Like 73 times already since the end of April. I'm flippin' worn out. And my face is on permanent puff from all the lame ass crying I've been doing. It's a miracle I can see out of my eyes. (Little brother, do not say a word!) <br />
<br />
I'll let you know how this story ends...read the last sentence below in the first paragraph below. Hard to imagine <em>any</em> evolution when the other half of the relationship has, for all intents and purposes, fallen off the face of the earth. My earth anyway.<br />
<br />
All I'm really hoping for is the opening up of communication channels, as suggested in the second paragraph. And the affectionate sharing of thoughts. See, I foolishly continue to hold out hope. 'Tard.<br />
<br />
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<span style="color: #383738; font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">On </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">June 27</span><span style="color: #383738; font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">, Venus stations direct at 7°29′ Gemini on the fixed star Hyadum II, the same spot the journey started. Back then, Venus was conjunct the South Node and square Chiron. Now the only tight aspect is Venus quincunx Pluto. So we could say the pain at confronting the negative aspects of our relationships, and our own weaknesses in how we love has now peaked. This final phase is about adjusting to a new dynamic in relationships, the give and take, and then settling at a new power sharing arrangement. Venus is love, Pluto is transformation, the quincunx is an aspect of karmic readjustment. Our relationships and how we love each other and ourselves is evolving.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #383738; font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">From </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">July 2 to 16</span><span style="color: #383738; font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">, Mercury sextile Venus again opens up the communication channels in our relationships. We had this aspect back in early May before Venus had turned retrograde. Now, in the final direct phase, it gives a much longer than usual time for affectionate sharing of thoughts, and for the resolving of the tension which has been ongoing for some time now. This will likely climax around </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">July 5</span><span style="color: #383738; font-family: "Arial", "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;"> with Venus at 8 degrees Gemini sextile Uranus. </span></div>
<br /></div>cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-34605517307836692342012-06-26T16:07:00.001-07:002012-06-29T11:34:01.593-07:00The 28-Day CurseMajor emotional set back this weekend. But guess what? Oh, yeah...you're way ahead of me. I started my fucking period! I started getting weirdly emotional on Thursday. Couldn't figure out why. I'd actually been holding up pretty well. YES - I still miss the hell outta him. Geez...it's only been a few weeks since his last email (the no-show let down one). And, recall if you will, that I'm still holding on AND I'm a 'tard. But still...I was actually really looking forward to seeing him. I love him, okay? Give me a break! Was hoping maybe something would be cleared up. Like maybe he'd have an epiphany and realize he loved me too. Bahahahaaa! But I digress...<br />
<br />
Anyway, Thursday, I ended up going to Happy Hour with a good friend of mine. She's very understanding...also a Leo. We compare notes. And we laugh. So the night went by quickly and I was doing okay. Went home and got a decent night's sleep.<br />
<br />
Friday fucking sucked! Anger at no response/resolution started kicking in. Big time! Confusion surrounded me. Who to turn to? Well, the person responsible for the pain and confusion, of course. More emails and voicemails. Now, I'm sure he doesn't listen to them or read them. But still...I should not be sending them. He doesn't care. I have no control. Seriously! It's like I'm helpess. <br />
<br />
So, my period actually started on Saturday. Wonderful. There's been no stopping the emotional rollercoaster since then. Wheeeeee...what a fun ride. There's also been no stopping the voicemails or emails either. God knows he will never answer his phone if he sees it's my number, meaning I will continue to call. I leave ultra-pathetic messages and then I listen to them and then I erase them and start all over. I do that about 7 times until I think it sounds just right. Then I hit the dreaded send button. And then I kick myself because I remember something really clever. So I call back and do it again. And then I kick myself for even doing it at all in the first place! 'Tard. <br />
<br />
Guess he's mad at a voicemail I may have left a couple of weeks back. When I may have raised my voice. And may have used a tone. May have yelled into the phone something along the lines of, "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!!?!?" Oh well, he'll get over it! He's a grown man. And he's dealing with a grown woman. These things happen. His overblown ego can't deal with that though. I can hear him in his King Phillip voice..."Who does <em>she</em> think <em>she</em> is speaking to <em>me</em> that way? Unacceptable, indeed."<br />
<br />
So, I'm currently deciding if I really <em>do</em> need therapy or if I just need to let this cycle pass? And if I let this cycle pass and I go all batshit psycho again in about 28 days? Yep, therapy.<br />
<br />
The thing is, I totally know he has no interest. But the mere fact that he won't provide me with closure is enough to send me over the edge. It's just enough to make me hold out hope. Who doesn't see the simple answer there is to PROVIDE RESOLUTION!!! Seriously, he acts like a fucking 15 year old boy by NOT providing a simple answer, and then I act like a 15 year old girl and get all stupid. Really? I need meds.<br />
<br />
Someday I'll tell you about all the red flags. You'll laugh at just how amazingly fucking stupid I really am. <br />
cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-9511077708077243792012-06-20T09:13:00.001-07:002012-06-20T11:37:01.957-07:00MYSTIC CRYSTAL REVELATIONS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, duh! No wonder my relationship is sucking so badly. Venus is in retrograde. Of course. I mean, who knew? Certainly not me. A sweet friend of mine suggested this was the reason that things are not going smoothly right now and to just let things ride for a bit until the phase ends. Uh, sure. Why not? <br />
<br />
Great. I've already pretty much told him (via emails - remember...he won't have a grown-up, real person conversation with me) that I am through! <br />
<br />
This phase of the planetary movement (or whatever it is) will be ending on June 27th. Yes, soon harmony, understanding, sympathy and trust will abound. Peace will guide the planets, love will steer the stars. Blah, blah, blah. (Okay...yes. I Googled it.)<br />
<br />
Apparently, this is an extra special Venus in retrograde period (which started on May 15th and ends June 27th). There was the solar eclipse on May 20th and the Transit of Venus on June 5th, both occurring smack dab in the middle of this Venus in retrograde period. I saw both with my special eyes, in case you were curious. <br />
<br />
So stand by for the dawning of the Age of Aquarius...or the reawakening of the Cancer I've been dealing with. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
(Note: Some lyrics and the title of this post were "borrowed" from the 5th Dimension's "Age of Aquarius" and slightly changed - I like to give credit where it's due so I don't get in trouble.)cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-86954437661764900602012-06-17T17:35:00.000-07:002012-06-17T17:35:49.637-07:00LET HIM GO!<br />
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<img alt="Amen!" class="PinImageImg" data-id="208221182742205071" data-src="http://media-cache-ec8.pinterest.com/upload/122371314845053804_ZLCVnHcd_b.jpg" height="192" src="http://media-cache-ec8.pinterest.com/upload/122371314845053804_ZLCVnHcd_b.jpg" style="opacity: 1;" width="192" /></div>
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Wish I'd seen this BEFORE I made a huge jackass out of myself...LOL!!! <br />
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</div>cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-19651271432540112392012-06-16T11:07:00.000-07:002012-06-16T11:07:42.913-07:00THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESSNow that I'm really single I'm actually starting to focus on ME. My main goal is to shove as much money as possible into my "I'm Finally Going to Buy a House" fund. I just went through a small spending phase, but I have my summertime wardrobe now and that should last for a few years unless I have a significant weight gain or loss. Not too likely. So...let the savings begin.<br />
<br />
I know what I want and I know what I have to do to get it. It'll take some hard work, but I've never shied away from that. It'll take some sacrifice. I'm familiar with that as well.<br />
<br />
I'm excited. If I buy a house in the community I'm thinking I want to retire in, I will no longer have to listen to the old man who lives above, with his incessant smoker's cough. I won't have to smell my next door neighbor's boiling "Pot of Goat." I won't have to blast my air purifier at night just to drown out the sounds of the neighbors slamming into the walls or banging their pots and pans around at 5AM every morning and 11PM every night.<br />
<br />
Oh, how I'll miss the crowing of the retarded rooster next door. His alarm clock is seriously fucked up.<br />
<br />
No more shared water heater. I risk a 3rd degree burn or possible frostbite every time I take a shower. I jump around in there a lot due to the changes in temp - bringing a hint of realism to the phrase, "I'm just going to jump in the shower." It's not pretty and it's not safe.<br />
<br />
I won't have to avert my eyes from, or try to avoid completely, the tattooed speed-freaks that live across the way and always want to engage me in some sketchy, nonsensical conversation about nothing. <br />
<br />
I'll have my own little front entryway that I can decorate for the holidays. Not garishly, of course. I'll have my own backyard and patio where I can sit and relax and read with no chance of anyone bothering me. I can invite people over when I want to, and they can stay as long or as little as we both feel is appropriate. But they will be welcomed and comfortable and safe. <br />
<br />
I am excited about the possibilities my new-found freedom is bringing me. Oh, there will be times I will still miss what's-his-name, but that too shall pass. cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-79091418876492527902012-06-11T15:34:00.000-07:002012-06-11T15:34:11.393-07:00HEALING IN PROGRESS...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Right now I just want my mind to shut the hell up.</div>
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My soul is trying to speak to me. </div>
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And I really need to listen to it.</div>cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-33337083859394411162012-06-11T15:10:00.000-07:002012-06-11T15:19:45.726-07:00DEFINITION OF CRAZYSo, I still haven't spoken to my "boyfriend" - term used super loosely because at this point I am soooo over it all and really consider him more a stranger than anyone I ever knew. Guess I should say <em>he</em> hasn't spoken to me. <br />
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I got an email...yes, an email...from him last weekend saying he'd be in town and we'd get together on that coming Friday. He said he didn't know what the future held for us and he didn't know where we'd meet yet but "we'd" figure it out. Hmmm, today is Monday. Friday was a few days ago. <em>Still</em> haven't heard a word from him. There is no "we" in any of this. Crazy thoughtless selfish cowardly bastard.<br />
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I finally called him and left a message (he refuses to actually answer my calls) and told him to not contact me via email ever again. They are meaningless. Also told him that unless he could muster the courage and decency to speak with me in person to apologize/explain this fucked up nightmare he created, then to not bother ever speaking with me again. This simply means we will never speak again. <br />
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I only wanted closure so I could move forward. After nearly 5 years together, that is not an unreasonable request. I have finally realized that, while closure/resolution would be nice, it is certainly not necessary. <br />
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I read some of the old emails I sent him a few years ago. Same shit, different day. Time to change it up and stop the crazy, vicious cycle. At a great emotional cost to me, I tried to continue fighting a losing battle. Hey, wake up! The war is finally over!! </div>
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<br /></div>cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5464049880085393381.post-40715417521185841972012-06-01T13:56:00.000-07:002012-06-01T16:50:50.861-07:00"EMBARK"ing on a New JourneyOkay, I've found the home of my dreams. I can't actually afford to purchase it for about another 8-10 years, but that's okay. I have the purchase of the home sort of lined up with my retirement. I am motivated. I will be saving like crazy now. If at all possible, I am aiming to purchase even sooner. But since it's in a new retirement community, I will be somewhat dependent upon the, uh, health, so to speak, of the current owner.<br />
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I LOVE the floor plan. Love it!!! The model is called Embark. It's not big. But it's big enough. For me. I will have a place for family and friends to come and stay a while...and feel welcome! I will have a kitchen where I can bake all the Christmas cookies I want to, and won't be hindered by lack of counter space. I will no longer struggle with where to hang my clothes - the walk-in closet is perfect. I can finally get rid of the many storage tubs I have...and the ones I keep will fit easily into the garage. I will have a manageable yard that I can turn into my very own Eden. And maybe a place for a small dog to play. No shared walls with noisy neighbors. Oh, happiness. <br />
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There probably won't be room for any man to live with me. For now that sounds devine! For right now, after this past relationship and its magnificent "non-ending," it really IS all about me.<br />
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Yes, it's my 10-year plan. I know lots can happen in that time. But it's my dream and my plan and my goal.<br />
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Now...SAVE, SAVE, SAVE!!!cruella devaulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15544575254702850648noreply@blogger.com0