It Had To Happen Sometime

Happy 4th of July weekend you animals.
Hope you're all enjoying your wieners.
I MEAN BARBEQUE'S YOU PERVERTS!

So.
I fell off the face of the earth. Yeah, therapy can do that to a person.
I'm still in it, cuz, well, I'm fucked up. Thanks childhood.
I'm getting better by leaps and bounds, but hooboy do I have some issues

I'M WORKING ON IT

But the BIG, BIG, BIG news this fine holiday weekend is that I have a new relationship to tell all you fine people about. And it's something that will shock and amaze you all.

IT'S
WITH
A
GIRL

No shit.
I'm totally serious.
A girl. A female.
And although it's a new relationship,  I'm so far head over heels.

OH
EM
FUCKING
TITS
UP
GEE

This girl is the sweetest soul I've ever met. I mean, she's just like me; she just wants love and affection; to just be around each other. I know right?? Like, what are the chances? 

This isn't like the relationships I've had with men. No, this is different - wholesome. This isn't the "Oh-hey-baby-yeah-I-wanna-fuck-you-but-whoa-I-didn't-say-anything-about-wanting-to-date-you-let's-not-get-needy-and-crazy-here" situation I encountered in my years of online dating. The love avoidant, emotionally unavailable men who were just as messed up as me but would never admit it; much less try to fix themselves

Yeah. I said it. Fight me fuckers

My girl quite a bit younger than me and although we haven't gotten into it yet (she's pretty quiet a lot of the time) I'm pretty sure she came from an abusive relationship herself. She has the scars and there are some issues that we have to work through because of it. 

She's often misunderstood, stereotyped and discriminated against, however this hasn't seemed to tarnish my girl's goofiness and innate goodness. Dunno, I guess you really can't judge a book by it's cover. I'll protect her. I'll stand up for her and I'll speak up for her goodness against the assholes who will jump to conclusions just by looking at her.

GUYS. I'M GOING TO BE WITH THIS GIRL FOR YEARS
I JUST KNOW IT

I never saw this one coming. Fuck it all, I just always assumed that I would always choose the boys. But this beautiful girl just walked into my life and here we are. It's like it was meant to be.

And she's got this cool hippie vibe like me, she loves being outside and going on long walks. We dig in the dirt together while I'm planting my garden. She's fascinated just watching the rainbows on the wall from the little crystal I have hung in our living room window. She's a simple, sweet soul.

NO SHIT GUYS

Considering that I haven't been dating for the last nine months, this is a shock for me. That I have fallen so quickly and given my heart so completely to another, just like that. It probably helps that she's so fucking emotionally open, unlike all the douchebag doods I dated. And we aren't even "dating" - that's not what we have going on. It's deeper than that. I can just be ME around this girl and that's okay. Authentic. It's what I've been learning about in therapy after all.

FOR 
SWEET
FUCK
SAKES

I CAN HARDLY HANDLE IT

In fact, I'm so confident in this relationship that I'm going to introduce you all to my girl. She's cool with it, she trusts me.

SO
HERE
WE
GO

Guys...
Let me introduce the new love of my life
.
.
.
.

PEANUT

Our beautiful, sweet, loving one year old Blue-Nosed Pitbull.

We adopted Peanut from a local resuce and she has had a long journey from a high kill shelter in Kansas City. 

WE
NOW
HAVE
A 
PACK

Peanut loves giving kisses and having her tummy rubbed. She hogs the bed and is a chowhound, as Peanut came to the rescue slightly emaciated and needs to gain some weight.
She needs to learn a couple manners and needs a bit of leash training, but OMG- the sweetest dog ever. I just can't wait for this journey with her...

I've said a couple times that I deserve better than what I've had.
I do.
I've found better.

Visions of Kandy Kanes

Greetings and salutations peoples.
I hope everyone is recovering from the holiday revelry.
My Christmas has turned out to be very cheese intensive - cheesy potatoes, cheesy eggs, cheesy tv.
So, basically the best holiday evah.

Me this holiday

MOVING ON

So today I have NEWS. Today's Doozy is really about ME. Well, all the Doozy's are about me, but this is about a a stupid boy and my reaction to him.

THIS IS IMPORTANT SHIT, PEOPLE.

THE TALE OF KANDY KANE

Imagine, if you will a crisp Monday right before Christmas. Easy, because it was just last week. I'm sitting at work, doing my work stuff when out of the blue a text pops up from a number I do not know.
Remember how a few weeks ago I mentioned that dudes keep numbers of women for, like EVER?
Yeah.
This.

So, anyways, y'all remember the Great Craigslist Experiment of 2014? Remember it was my foray in the meaningless hookup world, that the youngs are doing nowadays - whatever the fuck that is? 
That was a total failure for me ala Wesley.
SNORTLES.

Well, Kandy Kane was one of the randos that I'd hooked up with for awhile back then.
He was a decent enough guy - not skeevy, clean, had a job (I guess) drove a nice car, I didn't get any hinky vibes off him - like Kandy didn't secretly have a fetish for rolling around in kiddie pools filled with pudding while wearing diapers.
BUT
Annnnnnd this is a big but, he was separated at the time.
OF COURSE HE WAS.

Again though, this was just a hookup sitch, so we both knew the dealio. The rules were clear from the get-go.
No emotional entanglements.
No relationship.
No strings.
Just sex.

Okay.

The sex was good. I'll give Kandy that. We connected there, which was the bare minimum, since that's why we both signed up.
BUT

Kandy Kane wasn't even his real name. I never did find out what his real name was. Frankly, in the end I didn't give two shits.

STRIKE ONE

Listen, I get it. It's the Internet, and I of ALL people know what kind of weirdo fucking freaks inhabit that wretched hive of scum and villainy. But in the scheme of things as a single woman, I have MUCH more to worry about that Kandy ever did.

Kandy didn't give me his cell number. He only contacted me via a Yahoo messenger SMS number.

STRIKE TWO

Whatever dude.
First off, he was still using Yahoo messenger. People still use Yahoo?
What? Was he still in middle school?
Wait. I take that back. Even middle schoolers are using Snapchat. For fuck sakes dude.
YAHOO?
Secondly, my spidey senses were starting to flare up BIGTIME (looking back - I'm calling it the "Bronto Effect")...that feeling that, in this case, a man says he's "separated" but all behaviors point to being married and probably cheating.

Mindless hookup sex is one thing. Hookup sex with a married man is another.
I'm not a whore.

And it pissed me off.
So, when Kandy, one day vanished in a puff of testerone and Armani cologne, I was miffed and a bit stung, but in no way was I the slightest bit crushed. 
Well now. You can imagine my utter surprise then with Kandy texted me last Monday. Almost a year later.

"Hi! This is Kandy Kane and I just want to wish you a Merry Christmas!"
(I deleted the first two texts, not thinking that this would become a Doozy. I really should know better by now. Sigh...optimists...."
My response: "The hell? Uh..erm..Merry Christmas to you as also. I hope you are well."

This is where I must still be really stupid about men sometimes. I blindly assumed that our convo was done and went about my busy day.
Ahhhh, Doozy.
Silly girl.

Shit.
We were off to the races peoples.

But now, here's where something amazing happened. Something that the ring of power did not intend.

I know I mentioned in my sadface ennui post about Bronto that I was starting therapy.
I have. 
AND IT'S THE BEST THING EVER!
I'm so fangirling this shit.
For realz peoples.
I mean, I admit, it's kinda weird to be all "into" therapy, cuz it's painful and hard and shit's getting real yo. However, I've learned more about myself in the last month than I have in the last 20 years.
IT'S ALL STARTING TO MAKE SENSE
Certain aspects of the menz are making sense - but that's for another post.

Anyhoozles - moving on.

Kandy tried really, really, really, really hard to get me back in hookup mode. Back into le sack...

LET'S LOOKIE, SHALL WE?

Ed note: he had a decent wang- but it wasn't anywhere NEAR 9". Nice try.

Uh huh.
Kandy was hoping that I would touch his wiener again.
Make amends my ass.

Delicious, isn't it?
Can't you just FEEL the desperation rolling off him in waves?
Here's the thing:
With the exception of having the audacity to expect me to just drop everything for his cock, like I'm a mindless sex toy, Kandy didn't really do anything wrong. Sure, Kandy tried hard to make me change my mind, including copious amounts of sex talk, as if almost a year later that's all it would take for me me to drop my panties.

DENIED

AS IF.
I'M NOT WHERE KANDY LEFT ME.
I'M NOT WHERE ANY OF THEM LEFT ME.

Back in the day, probably even as recently as Bronto I would have shrugged and gone
"Sure, let's see where this goes" at Kandy's proposition - knowing in my soul exactly where it would go. Knowing that I would hurt myself and my resentment and self loathing would grow with every encounter, but not knowing WHY I said yes in the first place.

Then if Kandy would have turned out to be a buttmunch like all the rest of the boys I've tangled with, I would have beat myself up, and whined and cried and gotten all pissy with him and myself.
FUCK
THAT 
NOISE

Turns out that Kandy is my type - just like Bronto and Triton and Skip and Berengarius
 and all the other boys I've dated.
Love avoidant
Emotionally unavailable
Ready to run away
Not into me

The difference this time is that I KNOW THIS NOW.

I'm learning what my type is.
I'm learning what my relationship fallacies are.
And I'm learning that I search for love and affection like church goers at an Old Country Buffet - it's a deep seated NEED...regardless of the damage it does to me in the process.

I KNOW THIS NOW.
This time I could easily see Kandy for who he was and I could easily take a pass from his "rock hard 9" cock".

Because really, this isn't about Kandy at all.
This is about me.
It was like the Universe was testing me (James was testing me too - yeah I'm looking at you pal); beginning to test what I'm learning in therapy.
And fuck if I didn't pass with flying colors.
I'm not just some trash bucket here to serve the men of the world. Some pretty girl waiting for whatever scraps are leftover that they throw at me; emotional or otherwise.
Fucking avoidant fuckers.

But more importantly, I am so goddamn proud of myself.
IT'S LIKE I'M FINALLY BEING GOOD TO MYSELF AND SHIT.

FUCK
YEAH.
I
DESERVE
BETTER
THAN 
I
HAVE
GOTTEN.

Leave comments. I love those.

Oh Yeah, THAT Happened...

HOLY SHITBALLS BATMAN.
I can't believe I forgot to tell y'all that THIS happened.
And this Doozy happened, like ages ago...well...in Doozy time. See, Doozytime is like dog years, in the dating sense. Like, for instance, I've been on and off the dating sites for about 5 years or so now. But in Doozy-time, that's the equivalent of twelve years. So I'm in Doozy-time, I've already started menopause, and my vagina has become a shriveled, dusty, unused carpetbag.
HOW'S THAT FOR SOME IMAGERY, HUH?

You're welcome.
Moving on

So yeah. THIS.

THE GHOST OF THAD, YOU KNOW THAT GUY...

Awhile back, I wrote about Thad, Walter White's Legit Cousin. And of course, at the time I was all boo-hoo, wah wah because he turned out to be just looking for 
P
U
S
S
Y

Story of my life, right?
Why yes.
Yes, indeed.

Well now. Being the strong and resilient (albeit slightly cynical and jaded by now) Doozy that I am, I quickly told perky Thad to "FUCK OFF" in my head and quickly forgot about him.
HO HO! You say, Not so fast girl!
You're Goddamn right.

Because it was shortly after the Triton debacle back at the end of August, that THIS popped up on my phone, from a number that I didn't recognize.

WHY THAD.  YOU SAUCY LITTLE MINX.
I could also add
DELUSIONAL
IDIOTIC
FUCKWIT
To the mix.
But I don't want to come off as an incredible bitch.

WAIT.

On second thought:

So, to recap;
Thad contacted me TWICE over the course of three years on the dating sites. We we went on three dates.  He stood me up once, and blew me off once (maybe twice - tough call on that one), then has the elephant balls to come looking for humpty humpty after all that shit went down?

Really.
Seriously.
Uh-huh.

Way back when I first started dating and this sort of thing would happen to me, I admit I was a little flattered.
BECAUSE I WAS A FUCKING IDIOT BACK THEN.
AND I MADE BAD DECISIONS.
Anyhoozles, back then when some dude who had blown me off or otherwise treated me like shit texted me out of the blue, my first reaction used to be along the lines of:

I had much lower self esteem back in the day. And it took me quite awhile to realize that these men were USING me and that they were assholes of the first order. See, years back I my thinking was more along the lines of:
"Wow, maybe he misses me."
OR
"He must have changed his mind and realized how neat I am!"
I
WAS
SUCH
A
NAIVE
BUFFOON

And I did, and still do occasionally have rando dudes text me up to A YEAR after we went out a date. A YEAR LATER.
What the fresh hell?

Question: Why do men do that? I get that cell phones are the modern equivalent of "the little black book" now; however, if you only texted each other, maybe went out on a date with each other and nothing significant ever happened; why would you keep a girl's number? 
FOR YEARS? Especially if you never saw the girl naked? Or even if you saw her naked and it was only a hookup situation - like, there were no feels involved?
It was a "Okay-now-put-your-pants-on-and-go.No,-shower-at-your-own-place-get-the-hell-out." kinda deal. Why keep her number for infinity times pi?

Perhaps I'm way hardcore now or something, but once a dude shows me his true dickwaffle colors, he's gone.
Deleted.
All traces of him are erased from my life.
That includes his fucking phone number.
I don't keep that shit hanging around in my phone like some menagerie of notches in my cell phone plan.



So yeah, when I get some call or text from a weird phone number Now?
HA
HAHA
HA HA HAHAHA

See, all that Thad was doing; besides making an ass of himself, was adding more credence to my working hypothesis; which is this:
Generally speaking, men in the dating world see me as,

GOOD ENOUGH TO FUCK
BUT NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO DATE

And coming off the emotionally unavailable, attention whoring Triton deal? 
Huh.
YEAH.
No bueno bro.
Needless to say, all my fucks had dried up and blown away on the soft, gentle winds of assertive femininity.

Look, I get it. Men want to get laid. Shit. I want to get laid. Who doesn't want to get laid?
The critical difference here is, I made it extremely clear in my profile that sex isn't all I'm looking for.
Shit, I talked at length about my desire for a serious relationship on the three dates Thad and I went out on.

I'M DONE FUCKING AROUND HERE.

 
Therefore, it makes a girl wonder just what is going on in Thad's gray matter that his thinks the above tactic would work.
I mean really.

Clearly the little head was working harder than the big head.

So.
That 
Happened....

Remember. I can't make this shit up.

On the other hand, here's a pug losing it's shit.

Tales From The Crypt Pt. II

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