This is not a joke...

I'm not kidding- I opened a cafe express store when I was like, a senior in high school. I made up this pink smiley thing that I call "Chewy," and made shirts that say ---

brace yourself.

Fuck Bob.

The original joke wuzzat my brother had adopted the name "bob" while HE was in high school, and because he was all cool and artsy, all of my friends were in love with him.

So much that they'd ditch me to spend time in his "studio."

So I'm all like, Fuck Bob.

I think I'm im love...

Big's sister referred to a "good piece" as a "good meal"

Spec-fucking-tacular.

Dear Big's Really Cool Sister:

Well...uhm.. in a nutshell, as you already know- I was crazy mad in love with him, we'd dated "officially" and I broke up with him after some reasonably understandable hormonal problems (which were dealt with...anyway)

The real situation is that I was dying to get him back, but he always said that he wasn't "ready" for another real commited relationship.

Which I can totally understand. Fool me once, right?

Basically what I can tell you from the past year is that I would ask him if he were interested in anyone else, if he were even remotely considering being with someone else- to tell me. Not for my snooping reasons, mind you, but I had it deeply ingrained that if I really really KNEW that he'd moved on, then I'd be able to move on too. (As I've had other opportunities to see other people, there was always that twinge in my head that I would be screwing up whatever I had with Bob...) And in fact, the ONLY thing I've EVER asked of him was to devulge that information so that I could, hopefully, move on.

While we weren't "official", he lived with me, slept in my bed, and I took care of him in most things financial. He would be very sweet and loving, giving me kisses, snuggles, hugs and whatnots (and this is UP UNTIL the last day I really saw him) and created this adorable nickname "Poobie" for me (which he consistantly said was just a notch below "real girlfriend") So I had to find out that "Poobie" is, in the silly-naive-desperate-girl-language, actually "Sugar Momma" or some such.

I had a feeling that things weren't going right- as most women tend to have those feelings when he refused to assist in the moving process. I and my two best friends packed three loads onto the U-Haul, ourselves and he was nowhere to be found. (Taking a "whiz quiz" for a job that he didnt' accept, I believe)

That night, we were going to clean out the old apartment so I could turn in my key. We went to Walmart to pick up supplies, and I took him to Taco Bell for dinner. While driving to the old apartment, he says that he's tired and if it would be ok if he went back home to bed.

I'm a fricking pushover, so I say ok.

I dropped him off at about 10:30 or 11:00 pm. When I left, he was laying on my bed text messaging "someone". ((Which he later admitted to be her)) and when I got home at about 8 or 9 am, he was still laying in bed text messaging "someone". (Whether actual sleep took place there, I'm not entirely sure...)

He went to visit you guys on Thursday and was gone for three days with no contact whatsoever. EVEN THEN I wasn't going crazy thinking of "someone else." I was going crazy because I had a housefull of unopened boxes, quite a bit of such was his, and he hadn't helped with a damn thing in this moving expedition outside of packing his own clothes and an x-box! So, I'm getting peeved.

I call, and notice that his phone no longer rings 4-7 times and goes to voice mail (like it does when he hits the "silence" button) but it goes straight to voice mail.

I leave several messages.

It gets later on Sunday...

And later...I realize I have no other way of getting in contact with him.

I start getting worried. Please keep in mind that the last time he dissapeared like this, he was in fricking JAIL in Clarksville and I had to track him down and bail him out! Yeah, I worried about him!

So, I start throwing his e-mail address around on some search engines and up pops myspace... where he's talking about being "in a relationship" and he'll drop his gaming anytime to talk to "his girl"

I'm a little hurt.

Namely because I frickin' KNOW he ain't talkin' about me!

How did I find him?

Well, since I had been paying his cell phone bill for the past few months, I had access to his online verizon account.

I figured one of the numbers listed had to be a friend who knew where he was, or his mother. Or something!

Honestly, I just wanted to know he was still alive.

You know what hurt the most?

That even when I asked him who she was, he still tried to deny her existance.

Horseshit.

I just feel like I deserved a little integrity. Believe me, I've put up with a lot and no matter WHAT he may believe, this would have turned out 100% differently if he'd just been honest with me about her, or hell, about anyone he'd had his eye on.

He said he'd known for a while that he didn't feel "that way" about me anymore when we spoke last. So why did he keep me hanging on? Why wouldn't he just let me find someone else without feeling guilty? These aren't questions I expect you to answer, these are the questions I wanted him to answer.

But for him to do so, would mean that he'd have to admit that he's been using me for room and board for..um.. quite a while now.

But anyway--- I'm over it. Hell, I even got some! Some that was good! Mighty good!

As above, so below...

Dear The Other Woman- Part 2

I couldn't help myself.

You can tell by the way I use my walk...

I went to Wally World today to get a new ac adapter for my electric drill and ...well, while walking through the door, I couldn't help but notice that I have a strut.

Yes, a strut.

I wasn't walking- hell, I wasn't even like, walking-like-I-got-some (because frankly, if that were the case, it would be more of a bow-legged stride.)

I was strutting my shit down those aisles like I was hotter than Jesus. And it felt good. Mighty good.

God, I hope I don't get too cocky from this whole affair- but even like, before the "seven notches before royally laid" lay, I've noticed a change in my personality. Like, I have zero tolerence for bullshit now. Example: I have Cingular people calling me about some cash I owe them on a past-now-closed account. (Which, if they were smart, they would just add it to my regular monthly cell phone bill, but anyway..)

So, I actually answered the phone on one of these occasions and attempted to make arrangements to pay the bill, right? This lady on the phone is fucking scolding me like she'mahdaddy and frankly, that ain't gonna fly. I interrupt her and say, "Ma'am, if you would take my new address ((I recently moved, duh)) and send me a bill, I would be more than happy to..." she cuts me off- "Excuse me, I was talking here!" Well, the little vein in my forehead only slightly begins to bulge.

"And so was I. Lady, I don't need you to give me a lecture like I'm a damn 5 year old. Take my new address, send me a bill, and I'll send you a check."

"That's not going to work, we have sent you numerous bills and you continue to ignore ..."

"Are you one of those affirmative action special hires or something? Lady, take my address.."

"We can take your checking account information over the phone.."

"I don't give out that information over the phone because I'm not stupid- take my new address!"

"We have sent you several bills.."

"Take the new address!"

"Blah blah blah"

"Click!"

I hung up on her. I was very cordial at first, but she started seriously pissing me off. I KNOW I owe the money- I was trying to straighten it out, but she had to go off on her little guilt trip and guilt is the LAST thing I want to feel right now.

Go me.

Yeah, I know.

I'm completely speechless.

Like, in my head, I would get up and blog away about what happened yesterday, but I am completely speechless. Maybe I need to let it sit for a while and then I'll have some witty comentary on the whole affair.

I'll just say this.

It was lengthy. It was amazing. And I blacked out after it was all over.

Good, huh?

I see you shiver... with anticip...............

pation.

Aiden is on his way here as I type.

God, I hope I don't make a fool of myself.

Tastes like burning...

So. Yeah. I'm still furious, but it's not so much about Big anymore, it's me.

I'm furious for falling for the bullshit.

He's a man-whore. Only he was a man whore that didn't put out. Yeah, I'd get snuggles and shit, but only enough for "gas to visit his family" or some other such bullshit.

Did I mention the other girl is 17 years old? Yeah, his baby sister's friend.

The whole thing is pretty sick. I feel sick because of it. I need to start dating older men because I AM a younger woman, dammit!

Note the use of the word "men." Instead of "guys" or "boys" because I'm sick of "guys" and "boys" I NEED A MAN!

Not for so much uh..emotional stuff.

I need to get laid. Like, royally laid. And believe me, I will blog the hell out of it if it ever happens. ;)

Dear Aidan:

You're like, the best kisser ever. Can't wait to see you again.

Tchuss!