Wednesday, September 28, 2016

The freedom of F bombing

Men who lie. Men who stand me up. Men who disregard my feelings. Men who are thoughtless to my needs. My son. My ex-husband, an ex boyfriend, men I've dated. Today is an anti-man pity party and I feel so sad. I'm not a victim. I don't need or want pity. What I really want is the ability to stop "caring" as much as I do about men who fuck me over and write them out of my life. ONCE AND FOR FUCKING ALL.

Jackson is in San Diego and has forgotten that I even exist. Despite my telling him I have not been feeling well and asked him to stay in regular contact with me, he hasn't. He is "busy". I have a fear that since I live alone, in a new strange fucking city, and I get sick, or hey - maybe die, no one will know. Wouldn't it be nice if my kid cared enough to make a fucking call once in a while?

The list goes on about all the ass-fucking men who have stuck a knife in my back recently. William the fucktard ex-psychotic boyfriend who I could never stop reaching out to. I felt such empathy for him and every time I tried to show I care about him he sticks the proverbial knife in my heart.

My ex-fucking husband - Mr. Pathetic - couldn't be bothered to do a small favor I needed in Miami in a timely fashion nor return my calls for three days. And yeah I wanna yell "AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOU"!!! He owes me money, he owes me a lifetime of amends and I still offer him empathy and "help". Yeah, there's that fucking word again - HELP!!

It's not help, it's enabling. I enabling all these people I love and in return, I get the knife of self-centerdness stuck in my back.

On and on it goes. Well. I offer my two words of freedom to them all - FUCK YOU!! Go fuck yourselves and have a nice fucking day.

You can all suck it and I will go to 1,000,000 more meetings until I find out how to cut you cancerous tumors out of my mind, heart and life. At least I've gotten much better with cutting out the fucktard men I've dated. Delete their fucking number and send them back to the pasture of shit they thrive in. Online dating! LOL.

Have a nice fucking evening.

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Human failures thrive

I have long since been a person who holds on. Way beyond the expiration date of things. My marriage. Jobs that sucked. And relationships of all sorts. But not anymore, or at least, not today.

One of the things I've had difficulty holding on to is the idea that men can treat me, we - women - with basic human respect. At least, the same respect that I treat them with. I'm taking about in the dating world. If I ask a man if he feels any chemistry on a first date, I am hoping to receive an honest answer. That did not happen a few weeks ago when I had a date with a man I felt was a decent and sincere person. I truly did feel he was decent. He said he felt some chemistry, then asked if I did. We spent 5 hours together. I thought all that was a good sign. Except I never heard from him. And because I am a confident and strong willed woman, I emailed him and addressed it. Sadly, he was not the kind of man to give a straight answer. He deflected and ran rings around my simple comment that I wondered why he'd say he was interested if he wasn't.

I deleted him and moved on. Then, another first date I had last week went well, or so I thought. Again, so I thought. He invited me out again right then and there. A good sign again. Sent me a thoughtful and complimentary text afterwards. All the right things. Again

And again, no contact.

We were to go to the symphony this week. The only performance is Friday, 3 days from now. I have a personal boundary that if a man wants to see me, he should invite me out 3 days in advance, otherwise I make my own plans. See, I don't want to be glued to the phone praying for a date. Not anymore. In talking with an Al-Anon man friend tonight, who said that men are fearful too. Of rejection, of misreading a woman's interest. He suggested I reach out to this guy. So against my better thoughts, I did. Just a text with a happy hello.

And guess what?


Another man who fails my ideal of how humans respecting humans should be. I hear men say women do this shit to them all the time. I honestly did not know men do this. It's a first for me, really. Ive never experienced someone say they're interested and then poof. These men, by the way, are mid 50's. I guess lack of respect isn't only for the young.

So today, I am letting this guy go too. He gets sent to the F! you pile.

And I get to move on.

F! You

Ever get to that place of Fuck You with someone? Or, many someone's. Just....I'm done taking your shit. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on? Yeah, I'm there. With a few people. What a good feeling it is. It's not anger, it's relief, actually. It's like I've been holding on for so long, waiting and hoping that someone, or someone's, would reciprocate back to me what I give to them. And finally, one day, when I couldn't do it myself, God just said "Whoosh...they're out". And it's such a good feeling.

That day is today for me.

I made a decision a few months ago I would no longer write about a certain person here in the blog any longer. I didn't want to give that person any energy. There were times when I did want to, but I reminded myself of my choice. And it didn't kill me. In fact, it may very well have brought on this joyous epiphany feeling of fuck you. Yeah, just fuck you an bye bye.


Sometimes the F bomb is the only word for the exact feeling I feel.

Sunday, September 25, 2016


It's a sad day in Miami today. And all through Major League baseball. Jose Fernandez, a super star Cuban-American pitcher for the Miami Marlins, died overnight, along with 2 friends in a boating accident. Three o'clock in the morning, flying at full speed just off South Beach, in a borrowed high speed boat. They hit rocks they didn't know was there and all three died.

He was 24. The same age as my son.

He and his mother had tried to escape Cuba 3 times, each time they were caught in the Cuban waters. And sent to jail. On the 4th time, they made it. He was 15. His mother had fallen overboard on that attempt and was drowning. He didn't know it was her, he just jumped in to save the person in distressed. He was 15 when he saved his mother's life.

He made it to Miami. And he made it to the big league. He had everything. Fame. Money. Even his beloved grandmother was brought over to Miami to be with him. That was an unexpected surprise for him. And it was on tape and he was amazed and so grateful to see her. She was the woman who taught him to play baseball. She threw balls at him when he was young. She was his hero. And now she survives him. Just 5 days ago he announced his his girlfriend was pregnant. He was going to be a father.

The stories I've been reading online of him are of his generosity towards his fans and friends, and of course, his family. Here's the funny thing: I had never heard of Jose Fernandez until today. My ex used to have season tickets to the Marlins and we even saw them win their first world series. But I stopped following them when we broke up. But today, just reading about this young man, I feel a great loss. I feel the pain his family must be feeling. I can relate to it because it would be the kind of loss if my boy were to die. Jackson is a giver in his community of musicians, educators and friends.

Life is so short. I want to be sure that I continue to live it as God wants us all to. With love. Love for self, love for others, love for Him. I think I'm doing pretty well in that department at the moment. But you can be sure that this loss today serves to remind me that I can always do better.

Thanks for being my readers. Thanks for the lovely comments you post here supporting me, encouraging me. I really do appreciate them all. I hope you know how much I really do appreciate and love you.