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Monday, February 19, 2007

I'm Going to Wear Purple

A lovely change is settling into me today and I hope I can stretch it into a lifetime.

It finally dawned on me.

I'm going to wear purple.

Did you ever read that charming poem about the woman declaring she will be an eccentric old woman who wears purple with big red hats?

Why wait?

I have no one but myself to impress and I'm going to live again.

Once upon a time - bloggers who read years ago remember - I was eccentric. My co-workers knew me as the girl who wore feathered boas around the office and decorated my office like a combination of Mardi Gras, Valentine's Day and a Bordello. I went ghost hunting with "professional ghost hunters" just to see. I joined film festivals. I danced on fountains. I dyed my hair neon pink for a month. I was the life of the party.

I lost that after Brad and I had our problems. A small piece lived on, but the Jackal killed the rest in me.

I'm resurrecting her.

I'm going to wear wildly creative ensembles that may or may not match.

I'm going to attend galas alone happily.

I'm going to dance on fountains again.

I'm going to meet people and accept invites for events and attend them alone and proud. I'm not going to sit in a corner.

I'm going to plan and save for exotic travel for Taylor and I. Never again will I just visit a friend in another state - I'll stop by to see a friend while Taylor and I go on an oyster-shucking expedition or mine for diamonds in a volcano or some other such thing.

There's nothing and no one to stop me. If it repels men, then all the better. If it attracts men then they'll be prepared for me to be who I am.

I'm going to wear purple again.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

I am a Survivor

The pressure I am under is intense.

I am still not recovered from being hit-and-run by the Jackal (Jeff) and working 70-80 hours a week. I am putting every penny in the bank. I am desperately trying to get my house and fearing the worst because of credit/rental history woes also courtesy of the Jackal. (I am convinced that I dated and was pseudo-engaged to Satan).

I am a mess.

Tonight I got hit with a migraine that had me lying onthe bed upside down, pushing my skull into the mattress, sobbing and fighting nausea. My stepfather was downstairs on his 4th pack of cigarettes and I couldn't breathe. I also couldn't move, so I had to ride it out.

But I recovered. I still swear Excedrin is the miracle drug. Did you ever see My Big Fat Greek Wedding? Remember the father and his Windex obsession? That's me and Excedrin. Headache? Tootheache? Cramps? Tired? Sad? Sore back? Excedrin cures it all. Two Excedrin and a Coke will kill anything - Three for serious problems. 3 cured me tonight.

So, in recovery - I hit the news pages online. I'm a news-a-phobe. I read about Britany Spears. The more I read the more I felt better about myself.

I mean - c'mon...you have a beautiful, rich, famous young woman who is going through a FRACTION of the pain and suffering I went through and has a huge support system, tons of money and she's losing her mind?

And here I am. Sad, but surviving. I'm not drinking (although I did briefly have this brilliant idea that I could become an alcoholic just to join AA and find supportive friends in my life). I don't do drugs. I don't party every night. I just work, take care of my daughter and keep moving.

So, I guess I'm doing alright after all.

I'm a Survivor.

My best friend, Todd tells me all the time that I am the strongest woman and the 'toughest bitch' he knows. I always think he's insane. I don't feel strong at all. But I love when he says it. It makes me feel like I have to persevere so I don't lose that image for him.

But really - what choice do I have?

If I didn't work, Taylor and I would live like this forever. Unacceptable! If I just let myself break down and scream I might never stop. Would any of that save me or help?

There is no choice in my life right now.

If - and I mean IF I get approved tomorrow for this house, I found that I am $250 short in my move budget. An unexpected pet deposit is throwing me off. I have 3 weeks to make up the difference...so...I guess I will pick up extra shifts and work even harder. How that's possible, I can't imagine...I am running on fumes now but it would have to be done.

3 weeks of SUPER hard work. I can do that.

I just need that approval.

Bloggers - I'm putting out an open call to you. If you pray, pray for me now to get this place. If you're pagan, light a candle for me. If you're any other religion - call out to your god for me now, please...

You will be rewarded with infinitely better posts if I move.

If I get declined....well, I don't know what the hell I will do. Then all my hard work is for nothing and I will have a meltdown tomorrow.

But I will survive.

Ups and Downs

Ouch. Damn my body hurts in the mornings. I am acutely aware of every muscle in my body. It didn't help that I was a walking catastrophe either. On Friday night I felt like I had a target on me.

First, another server - a VERY heavyset female was reaching up high for something ina big hurry and brought her arms down hard and fast as I walked past and accidently punched me dead in the heart with an elbow. I was stunned into pain.

Next, another server spun around with a stack of trays and cracked me in the ribs.

I was rammed with a heavy glass rack and had a dozen glasses dropped on my feet shattering against me.

Egads, I felt lucky to leave that night with my life.

It hurts everywhere.

Saturday, Taylor and I met with our realtor. When I picked her up from her sleepover at a friends house on our old street, I accidentally spotted Jeff sitting outside smoking a cigarette on the phone. I had an envelope to give him of the $20 I pay him a week towards insurance and Taylor brought it to him. Just that glimpse had my pulse racing and my adrenaline flowing. I wanted to set him on fire.

We looked at 4 houses and fell in love with 1. We have a 2nd and 3d choice, but we're in the application process for our 1st choice. I just this minute faxed over documents. I am terrified. There's a strong choice of denial because Jeff has stayed 2 mos. behind on rent to my former landlady since I left.

The house I chose is NOT the first one I mentioned before that WOULD be MINE. I was so sure that was THE one and could not understand how it could be rented already??? Then it came together...the NEW 1st choice is the same house, same model, same community but with MANY wonderful upgrades which make it 100x better for the same price. I'm really hoping for this...it would be perfect.

I'm off today (yes, you heard me right!) and thank god because I am in pain. It's cold outside so Taylor and I have to change our plans and part of them will likely include trying to organize our messy room. When you have two people crammed into a tiny space - living AND working - it's just a disaster. Even Extreme Home Makeover could not save us right now...

Jeff and I had another minor blowout in text yesterday. His stepdaughter called my daughter to ask WHY she could not play with Taylor's things and really put Taylor on the spot. I was furious. My daughter does NOT have to explain her feelings on this to his kids. Period.

Taylor and I saw a movie yesterday and had a Mexican lunch. We saw Bridge to Terabithia which was cute, but not life-changing.

Not sure what we will do today. I'm clinging to my money and need to clean, but need to spend good time with her too...the beach would be perfect if it wasn't 50 degrees outside!

I spoke to Tammy last night on the phone and somehow we went from discussing her life to mine and I sat in my truck sobbing on the phone for an hour. It makes me angry that after almost 4 months I am still in so much pain from this JACKASS. It's not love (I hate his guts) but rather a sense of betrayal, anger at being duped, confusion, pain from trying to recover and a feeling of utter failure.

Then I slept...

When does it stop hurting?

I hope it begins with my move. I hope I do move.

Friday, February 16, 2007

In Today's MYSPACE mailbox...

I really think you are such a beautiful woman. In fact you are stunning. My name is Bob and I live in Delaware. I know I dont know you and all but I just wanted to tell a lady for the first time that I sometimes have bisexual thoughts. Please dont be offended by me telling you. I just wanted to know how it feels to know that a knock out gorgeous lady knows your secret.

Huh?????

As usual, I attract freaks and degenerates like a beacon.
At least I have learned not to date them.

A Bitter Song

First of all....Owwwwwwwwwwwwwww

My body hurts like hell. My back is sore and swollen, my legs and thighs hurt and I am exhausted.

I figured out the following:

  • I work 6 days a week
  • At least 5 of them are 16 hour days
  • When I am "off" I play single mother and do things with my daughter no matter how tired I am
  • I average 4-5 hours sleep a night
  • I eat the equivalent of 2 days worth of full meals per week

Owwwwwwww

Grey's Anatomy was great last night, but it set me off and got me crying. At one point, contemplating a "Jane Doe" patient, Dr. Addison asks if she disappeared, would anyone notice?

And I asked myself the same question.

Later, when Dr. Meredith Grey was lying "dead" in the OR the entire staff was surrounding her - teary eyed doctors working on her, the man who loved her crouched in the corridor crying, her friends standing outside the doors in tears...

I wondered...if it was me - if I was lying in a hospital OR dying...who would be there?

These weren't good thoughts. The answers were awful too. No one. No one would be there.

If I was on the verge of death, who would be there?

Depressing thoughts sent me to bed.

A Bitter Song by Butterfly Boucher

All I need is a bitter song
To make me...better
Much better
All I need to write is a bitter song
To make me better
Much better

It found me
To hold me
But I don't like it at all

Won't feed it
Won't grow it
It's folded in my stomach
It's not fair
I found love
It made me say that
Get Back

You'll never see day light
If I'm not strong it just might

All I need is a bitter song
To make me better
Much better

All I need to write is a bitter song
To make me better

I feel better
I feel better

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Random Things Before Bed

First - this creeps me the fuck out....It's advertised as "Creepy ghost caught on camera in Japanese documentary". I may never get to sleep now... http://www.vidmax.com/index.php/videos/view/624

Second - I am beyond upset right now. I don't even know if I can talk about why. The bottom line is that I found out some more things about Jeff's new girlfriend Jill today and everything makes perfect sense all of a sudden. From what I understand she is an absolute sweetheart of a person and she damned sure doesn't deserve what he's up to. He is a con man through and through and I am so angry and upset and I feel powerless to do anything. Sure, I could tell her - but then he'd be on my case and I just want him to wither and die and put mankind out of the misery of sharing a planet with him.

Third - I had a great night...it was SLOW and I still made a lot of money. I always set a goal for how much I want to take home and I have beaten it every time except once. Tonight was a NO MONEY night for the restaurant and I still made $20 more than my goal. C'mon move day!!!

Fourth - I can't wait to curl up with my beloved TIVO and watch Grey's Anatomy!!!

Night :)

Lesson Learned

I have never fully understood the concept of exhaustion until now.

I am so foggy that I drove Taylor to the bus stop on auto pilot. On my way home I thought I felt the car slowing and kept pressing the gas only to have it slow more and panicked thinking I was breaking down - only to realize I was hitting the brake.

My body hurts. My brain is in a cloud. I am beyond exhausted.

I always thought that you could keep going, keep pushing, keep moving and that to stop was lazy or weak.

Yeah...I know better now. I am running on fumes at best and have 3 more long days before I get a tiny break.

Survival

Well...

My body aches in indescribable ways and I am physically exhausted but I survived the day of hearts & flowers without shedding a tear.

I worked my ass off. I earned $180 in 4 1/2 hours.

I remain on target for my goals. In fact, if I find a townhouse I like on Saturday when we tour them with my realtor, I will be prepared to put down a deposit without batting an eye. My bank account is growing bigger every day. I deposit my paychecks and child support and I stash all of my tips (save for a few small bills for gas, tolls and Taylor) in an envelope to deposit every weekend.

After this weekend, I think things will start moving faster. I will decide on a place out of 5 I am touring. I will get the approval and once I have a "go" I will need to begin packing...

Which, unfortunately means I will be spending some time at the Weston house packing boxes of all of my belongings. It will be interesting to see how Jeff copes with no dishes, silverware, glasses, utensils, pots, pans, towels, etc. I refuse to leave so much as a plastic fork behind - it all goes...

I just need to get it done without having to ever see him. But I plan to have everything packed up so that on moving day things go fast and smooth.

I can't wait...my space. My own space. My own room. AIR-CONDITIONING!!! (My stepfather has poor circulation and keeps this place at 80 degrees or higher and I can't sleep without a/c)

I will take off the entire weekend to move and spend it putting things away, soaking in my own tub and cooking.

Ahhhh, cooking.

I. Can. Not. Wait.

Coming home after work, sinking into a tub of bubbles - slipping into my bedroom. Reading in bed with a light on past 9 pm.

Luxury....

All mine.

I can't wait.

I still know exactly which of the 5 I want to move into. The same one from the start. A perfect townhouse just ready for us to slip into...

Home...

My heart is already there...

I actually got one real Valentine's wish today. Roger called me and left me a voicemail (I didn't answer) wishing me a Happy VDay. It was sweet. For just a moment I was really grateful to him.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Paula Abdul Theory

If there is any truth at all to Paula Abdul's repeated claims that she does not do recreational drugs or drink alcohol to the point of inebriation (and I'm not sure I believe her) then I have an alternative theory.

She should be tested for Huntington's Chorea.

My former stepmother (my half-sister's mother) has it and it began around the same age to display symptoms not unlike Abdul's.

12 years later she is in a nursing home requiring full time care. It's terminal. One day she will forget to breathe or swallow. She experiences dementia and is prone to violence.

When it began she had the same spacey behavior.

I am not an Abdul fan, but I just read the article at http://www.southflorida.com/news/sns-ap-people-paula-abdul,0,7959940.story?coll=sfla-entertainment-headlines and felt a need to post my theory.

One day, if it proves true I can point back and say I told ya so.

Otherwise, she's hitting those arthritis drugs too hard. Still, it's part of what makes watching Idol so much fun.

Our Valentines

Here's your chance to be MY Valentine. And for me to be yours.

In the right side of your screen, you should see an ad for Restaurant.com. Click on it, enter your zip code and find local restaurants in your area. Then purchase and instantly print a $25 gift certificate.

For $5.

Enter the code VALENTINE at checkout and recalculate your total and you will get a $25 certificate for $5. As a special treat from ME to YOU you will ALSO receive a $10 gift certificate per order (one per checkout).

Here's a hint...log on today and buy your first $25 certificate for $5. Tomorrow log in again and use your $10 certificate AND your Code and get TWO MORE $25 certificates for free.

So - dine out three time, get $25 off your bill each time at your restaurant choice and pay $5.

This offer expires February 17th. Just a note - I get a tiny (and I mean TINY) commission from your purchases so you're also doing me a world of good too. :)

Pass it on but make sure they click MY link on MY page and help a sad, single momma out, would ya???

Note: NONE of your personal information is shared with me. I only know SOMEONE bought something. So, (1) you're safe and (2) don't be mad when I don't thank you.

Hearts and Flowers

Okay, I now understand why a large percentage of the population hates Valentine's Day.

If you've been recently hurt or you're recovering from a broken heart - well, it just plain sucks.

You are subjected to watching people around you get showered with gestures of love and romance while you are more and more aware that you are alone.

I bought Taylor a bagful of Valentine's gifts ranging from candy to a card to a stuffed animal to some girly items like lipglosses and body spray scented like cotton candy.

She felt bad because in her excitement to write out Valentine's day cards for her classmates, she had nothing to give me in return. It was okay. It stung just a little since I sort of thought she'd be my only Valentine, but I can't really expect that of her.

I have a card and candy for Brad too, not romantic, but more friendly. I know he won't have anything for me either, and that's alright.

The only way to survive this holiday is by working it. Tonight should be insanely busy at work and I'll be ticked if I make less than $150. I'm in a station on the patio where you would think that the cooler weather might keep people away but you would be surprised how many people will sit there and shiver instead of waiting an hour for a table. Unlike inside where you run a 3-table station, outside I can have up to 10 tables at a time.

The average check for 2 is about $45 - 55. The average tip is $8 - $10. I can flip a table in about an hour if they're slow pokes. Imagining I hold about 8 tables an hour...I should earn about $60 an hour and work a 4.5 hour shift.

In an attempt to distract myself - let's revisit restaurant ettiquete, shall we?

  • If you have a small child and decide to eat out it's up to you to control the little darling. Don't let your child kick the waitress (as happened last night) and understand that your screaming brat annoys my other tables. At the end of the meal, when it's time to tip, they only remember that they had a miserable dining experience and my tip reflects it. Likewise, don't let the brat shred paper, crayons or throw my sugar packets around. I don't have time to clean up after your child. When Brad and I used to take Taylor out we always had something to occupy her. A small toy, a handheld video game...something!
  • Tipping. 15% is no longer the norm. If I get less than 20% on a table I am annoyed. Unless I treated you like shit then you have to remember that I busted my ass for an hour to make sure you had everything you needed while juggling 3-4 other tables.
  • Eat and leave. I can't make money with you sitting there for 3 hours after you have paid your check. Unless you are going to leave me 3x the tip you need to get your ass out. There's 40 people waiting in the lobby and I can't serve any of them while you're parked in my large booth making small talk. Notice how those drink refills stopped after you paid? We're done!
  • Do not hand me plates while I am clearing your table for you. I am balancing 18 lbs of dishes and you handing me extra bread plates with 45 pieces of silverware on top is not going to end well. There's a great chance I'm going to lose the balance and it's going to end up on you.
  • I don't cook your food. When it takes 20 minutes for you to get your well-done steak you can stop glaring at me. Perhaps you didn't notice the 400 other people in the restaurant?
  • Pay with a credit card. We love that. When you give us cash, we have to make change for you out of our pockets which means we have to stop what we're doing and dig through our pockets and purses for the $47.89 change we owe you.
  • Comps!!! Okay - here's a major one. When something is not perfect and you complain...the steak is undercooked, the broccoli was overdone our managers will take it OFF your bill for you because we really do want you to be happy. Just because you had a $28 steak taken off your check, leaving a $19.36 balance to pay does NOT mean it's okay to tip us 15% of $19.

Thankfully, most of my tables have class. Other than the obnoxious children I tend to get great tips. My average tip is about $15-$20. When a manager comps a check - even the ENTIRE check - I still get a great tip. In fact, often when a large check is entirely comp-ed, the table leaves me a bigger tip since the meal was free. I like that.

Moving on...

Jeff and I are at a Mexican standoff of sorts. I have information that I could send to his girlfriend that would prove he has lied to her thousands of times in the last few months and he has my furniture and is legally the owner of my truck. I REALLY wish I had the truck in my name and my stuff back because making his life a living hell would thrill me to pieces.

My budget remains on track and I am looking at houses on Saturday. I keep hoping that moving will cure me of all my problems.

I still have to admit that other than the body aches and exhaustion - I love my 2nd job. There is never a dull moment and I am 'on the go' the entire night. Even better I can see the immediate results in cash tips that I take home each night. It also makes me appreciate a day off 100x more even if I just lie down in my bed for an hour to watch tv after taking care of Taylor.

I am working about 80 hours a week and earning a double income. All told, I earn nearly $60,000 a year with both jobs. For the first time in my life, my bills are paid and I have extra money in my bank account that is in the FOUR digit range! Sure, it's being saved to move, but it's there. Once I move, that extra money will be scarce. I'll be budgeted to the penny, but I will have the freedom of my own space.

I hope I find a place with a GREAT bathtub so I can soak in a warm bubblebath at the end of the day. The idea of a candlelit bathroom with a fragrant warm tub full of bubbles and a glass of wine sounds like bliss right now.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

How NOT to get my attention

From my MySpace Inbox:

im anthony. how r u? did u have a nice weekend? do u have a man . u r lookin ? what kind of man do u like ? iwant to be ur valintine. im a contrator in s. fl . i live in sunrise fl, . i like cillin with friends goin to south beach, hardrock, movies , workin hard to meet goals. id like to kno more about u ? what u like to do for fun ? what type of restaurant do u like ?oh yea ur vary pretty and look like a ture sweet hart. tell me more about ur self?

Huh???

Not counting the annoying abbreviations which I think are only okay on phone text messages because it's a pain in the ass to type on those phones - let's count the misspelled words...

Eleven.

He's 30. No excuse for illiteracy, sorry. His pics show unbelievable muscular arms and at best he'd be a good one to have beat Jeff up someday. In one picture he actually refers to his arms as his "guns". I can almost picture him kissing his biceps while lifting the weights.

He says he likes "workin hard to meet goals". I'm thinking he should make hooked on phonics a goal for 2007.

I don't bother to respond to these. I have nothing nice to say...

Not Ready to Make Nice

Forgive? Sounds good. Forget? I'm not sure I could
They say time heals everything -

But I'm still waiting...

Without going into too much detail, Jeff and I are engaged in an email war of words. It was astonishing to see how much he had twisted the facts - he accused me of everything from harassing him to controlling the weather.

Now, first of all - Jeff and I don't speak "live". I refuse. I told him not to call me and that any conversations we have must be in text. Second, I avoid seeing him at every turn. And third, I only contact him regarding issues that remain between us that we have to communicate on.

The beauty of it all is that I do not love Jeff. I once believed I always would and I can honestly say that I truly did love him...or at least who I thought he was. But that love is so far dead that it ould never be resurrected.

Still, I am not ready to be with anyone again.

I wish I were. I wish I had the desire to meet someone and feel an attraction or pursue something more but I just can't do it.

I realized that every man I ever got involved with was a friend first and I think that may be where my issues lie.

Moving on...

I'm going to tour 4 properties with my realtor this weekend and will hopefully pursue one of them to fruition. She's still wanting to make my move-in happen by Mid-March as opposed to April 1st and that would be heaven.

I really really need my own space.

I was off last night and Taylor and I had a great night together. I work tonight and every night through Sunday when I can finally take a break. I expect to be exhausted, but the money will go far. It should be a busy week with Valentine's Day tomorow.

Valentine's Day has so far not affected me. I am not dreading it or worrying about it. I am ambivalent to it. I am glad to be working to avoid focusing on it, but it's a non-issue. Paper hearts and candy do not impress me these days.

There's just not much else to report on these days...

Monday, February 12, 2007

What Dreams May Come

I had a really revealing dream.

I admit it - I took a little nap this morning. One of the perks of working from home. I had a vivid and really 'telling' dream.

In my dream I was at a large office that I understood to be my stepmother's work. She is a property manager for a large wealthy community and often her work crosses ours since we maintain the homes in their for the customers.

For some reason, my sister and I were both there. My dad was there also. I had just come from looking at a GREAT house that I was planning to rent. I was excited.

A VERY handsome and sexy man walked in and called my sister over. While I stood there, he sort of leaned on me and handed her a card and a rose. My dad had given birthday cards to this guy to give to her. I thought it was odd that he was leaning on me - in actuality he was practically resting his arm on my breasts.

When I remarked on it, he just grinned at me flirtatiously.

My sister was ooing and ahhing over her cards from my dad and mystery man pulled me aside to be alone. We sat on a couch in the office and he made some small talk. He was super handsome and very mysterious and sexy.

My family was thrilled to see me with him.

As the conversation progressed, he become uglier. His teeth became screwed up, he was no longer hot - but starting to morph into ugly. He told me his last girlfriend had cheated on him and when I asked how long it had been over he remarked that it was still ending. I went from turned on to turned off. This jerk was still in a relationship and trying to pick me up.

Somehow this translated to me that he became uglier as I got to know him better in my head.

I left him to go look at my house again and it was no longer GREAT. It had barren concrete floors full of holes and was downright shabby.

I was no longer excited...I was frustrated.

Current Mood? Frfustrated

I am an exercise in frustration today.

My body is unbelievably sore...my back, my legs, my knees - all ache terribly. I worked my ass off last night and walked with $140. Nicely done.

Whenever I work at any job, I am not happy unless I am 'the best' at what I do. I don't know if it's pride or competitive or just ego but I can't settle for knowing I am 'mediocre'. This little tick has earned me promotions at every job I have ever held but there's something fun about seeing it actually earn me more money at this job.

On the weekends, the restaurant is stress-central. For some bizarre reason this makes me NOT stressed. While servers are pushing and screaming through the tiny kitchen alley I am calm and observing it all with a bit of amusement.

I don't let it stress me. For me it's actually stress relief.

A new table sits down. You go to get their drinks and there are no glasses. Every glass is dirty. The person who's 'sidework' is to refill the glasses is too busy and when you go in the back to get them yourself, there's still no glasses.

This happens again when you want to bring them bread (no bread!) or a spoon or a plate or their salad.

Still, while the other servers scream and bitch about who's not keeping up with their sidework, I manage to keep my own sidework fully stocked and just go get the things myself instead of freaking out.

From a management perspective it goes unnoticed. The managers get just as harried and stressed as the other servers. If I am 'invisible' to them because I have no melt-downs, they just don't notice - and that's ok...because I still get great tips.

Even so, I botched a table last night. I felt horrible. I served them an appetizer and then failed to ring in their dinners because I had 4 other tables keeping me running. I apologized profusely and I felt guilty as hell when they still left me a 20% tip that I knew I did not deserve.

Is it weird that I love this job? I come home wearing 8 courses of food, I am sore, tired and have been listening to co-workers scream and yell and rage and I feel energized. I can't walk through the crowded kitchen without any one of the 20 other employees knocking into me and spilling drinks, food and other crap all over me and I just keep moving with a smile.

It's my personal life that frustrates me.

I'm busy 24-7. I am on the run and have 497 things to do and I realize my actions make everyone else happy but I feel like I am unrewarded. I long for a day at the beach, a long nap, a bubble bath....

Actually, I long for companionship.

And thus, frustrated.

The busy schedule serves really only to keep me so busy that I don't mope or mourn or slip into depression. But at some point it will slow down and I wonder what I will have then?

A co-worker chatted me up after closing last night. He commented on how "nice" I am. I assured him it was faked and he seemed shocked.

"I have to be nice. I have to fake it. If I ever just relaxed and let my true feelings out there'd be a hostage crisis in the restaurant and I'd be serving up dishes worthy of Hannibal Lecter..."

Gee...I wonder why I don't have more friends at work???

Actually, that topic came up too. I have another co-worker a ride home and since he is known as the restaurant eyes and ears, I asked him what the scoop was on me. Apparently everyone really likes me but they can't socialize with me because they don't get along with my sister and it's not realistic to think I would hang out with them and not include her.

I love my sister. She's tough, in your face and direct as hell. She's also loyal and loving and would walk through fire for people she cares about. Not everyone gets her, but I know what a treasure I have in her. She's more than my sister - she's my best friend.

I do regret that it leaves me outside a social group that I enjoy. Several co-workers are so much fun and at least one reminds me completely of my darling Todd in Oklahoma who I miss so much. But nothing is worth even a second of my sister feeling excluded and thus, it is what it is.

I'm off tonight - thank god - and I plan to use the time to lie still as much as possible.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Post Secret



Post Secret posted this Valentine today...




Jeff could have given this one to me...




Me...?

I thought my days of "who am I?" were behind me. I thought I knew.

I have no clue.

I know who I've been. I know who I was.

Now? I feel like I am living inside a stranger.

The old me is still in there. Smaller, quieter and weaker. I watch the "new" me and occasionally I try to speak up, but no one listens.

I am a walking contradiction.

I want to find love again...but I am opposed to letting anyone - especially a male someone - near enough to me to get to know me.

I want to be happy...but I don't have time to do things to make myself happy.

I feel so lost.

The pressure is all still there.

I went out after work with my sister and her friend, Tori, again last night. Taylor was spending the night with Brad because they had a late hockey game and I wanted to unwind a bit. We returned to our regular bar and took our spots at the bar. We deflected men, briefly chatted with a bachelor party and laughed a lot. Ironically, the only man I was remotely attracted to is our very-married pal and I would never ever even contemplate a married man. He's great and she's lucky. He still has a running joke with me to "show him my tits" but I'm not that kind of girl and it really is just a joke. He's pretty conservative and sweet. When Tori was kidding with an old friend of hers that she recognized he mistakenly thought a man was bothering her and said "touch her again and I will kick your ass".

Our jaws dropped. Dino is so passive and sweet but he was dead serious. After a moment of stunned silence, we all fell over laughing and cheering him on. We told him how sexy that was and how much we adored him.

As usual, we drank free all night. Between men buying our drinks and Dino taking care of us, we left for the price of a good tip.

It was fun. Moreso because no one really bothered me. It was a girl's night and far more enjoyable to me.

My sister told me that Roger complained about me not giving him 'the time of day'. Yeah....well....whatever.

Part of me yearns to love again. Part of me refuses. I don't know how to reconcile the two halves.

I have a drawer full of gorgeous sexy matched lingerie...but I won't sleep with anyone.

I long to love and be loved - but I won't talk to anyone.

How exactly do I go on this way?

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Friday Night

Friday Night was an adventure.

I picked Taylor up wearing a wig that my mother dropped off to my as a joke earlier that day. It was a long, straight auburn wig with red streaks and bangs. Taylor was not fooled but moments later when I stopped by my father's to pick up my paycheck he kept repeating "Holy Shit".

Apparently the sexy wig called more attention to my figure. I told my dad I wanted to lose 24 more lbs and he said I shouldn't drop a single lb because I was "perfect".

High praise from the father that once called me a blimp behind my back.

Nonetheless, I kept the wig on and was astonished at the reactions. When we stopped in WalMart men looked at me like I was a stripper there to rip off my clothes. A gas station attendant beamed at me and tried to make small talk.

I stopped by the restaurant I work at to see my sister and I stayed outside so no one would see me and 3 co-workers still ran into me and their jaws dropped.

Apparently I need to grow my hair longer, wear it straight and get bangs.

After my sister got off work, I went out with her to our favorite hang-out. A bar on the beach. The bartender, an old and dear friend of my sister and her fiancees, didn't disappoint me by forgetting to beg me to show him my "tits" all night.

Roger was there. When the bartender, Dino, kept saying "I bet they're nice", Roger assured him that they were.

I felt sexy, but I also felt like meat.

Roger put the moves on all night and I tried to keep him at bay. I didn't want to be pawed. Truthfully, my sister had brought a few other friends with her and she was hoping to hook another girl up with Roger, but he definitely only had eyes for me all night. He's so nice, but as much as I like him in a friendly way - I just don't like him beyond that.

Several times that night it occured to me that I almost wish Jeff could see me now. I am 30 lbs and 3 dress sizes smaller than when he last saw me. Men check me out everywhere I go. There would be some small satisfaction in seeing him shocked at the transformation in me but it's not complete yet.

I want to lose 24 more lbs and I want to grow my hair longer and cut it differently.

Possibly with those bangs...

It was fun to be incognito for the night. It was entertaining to realize that the change in hairstyle freaked out the men who knew me and had them looking at me in a different way. Even my dad was gawking.

I enjoyed shocking people. I enjoyed hearing that I looked good. I was in simple black pants and a plain white t-shirt and I garned as much ogling as if I were wearing tassels and a g-string. And by the end of the night, I felt hot.

I drove home alone at 3:30 am. A car of men pulled beside me and stared. I noticed them, but pointedly didn't look at them. They slowed to match my speed to stay alongside me. I ignored them. They tried to follow me at one point.

That was scary...

I still have fat girl syndrome where I feel like a fat girl. There are moments like last night when for just a few minutes I can feel sexy and I like it, but I still can't handle men. Roger was all over me and I couldn't seem to deflect his attentions. I managed to escape with only a few kisses but it was a battle. I have to learn to be able to stop these men in their tracks and be direct and tough with them.

For a former fat girl, that's not easy.

Still....30 lbs and 3 sizes down...I do feel pretty damned sexy! :)

Friday, February 9, 2007

The Post That Wasn't

I wrote a great post. A post that explained everything. A revealing post that 'told all'. It explained why my reaction to Jeff has been so drastic.

And ultimately it was a post that could have put my life in danger. If not mine, then my daughter's safety.

So, it has been moved to draft. It will be republished in the near future once a few loose ends have been tied up.

The Psychopath

You've all been too kind to ask me why I am so full of anger over Jeff. I mean, it was "just a break-up", right?

Wrong.

The first thing you have to understand is that Jeff is a psychopath. I'm not saying this to be 'cute' - he is clinically a psychopath/sociopath. I realized this last year and promised him I would keep it between us, but I mentioned it in a post here (at the bottom) on February 3, 2006.

You can do your own research if you feel so inclined, but essentially a psychopath is a person who has a sort of defect within them. They can not feel basic human emotions. A true psychopath is not capable of love, hate, guilt, remorse. They can feel happy (sort of, they "like" when things go their way) or sad (sort of, the are "disappointed" when things go wrong for them). They learn early on through instinct to 'fake' these emotions to fit in. They become masters at mirroring your emotions and trying to be what you want them to be.

I used to write posts where I called him the "Amazing Programmable Boyfriend". All I had to do was tell him what I wanted and he would do it. If I said "hug me when I am upset" he'd do exactly that. Once, he tried that and I pushed him away and he was thoroughly confused. He thought he did what I told him to do and could not understand why it didn't just fix everything.

It's a bit like an alien, really. They don't understand human emotions, but they try to mimic them.

So, Jeff is correct when he says he never loved me. But, by the same token, he has never loved anyone - nor will he - he simply can't.

What he does is logical to him, but evil to the rest of us. He finds a woman who meets his needs. She has to be attractive, strong in personality and she has to have certain aspects that suit what he needs in his life. He prefers single mothers because he thinks they're "hungry" and thus he can manipulate them. I may have been the only woman he got serious with that was not a single mom when he met me, but there's another story behind that. STBX and Jill were both single mom's. What he's drawn to is vulnerability.

Jeff is drawn to ego, money and power. He has zero self esteem because inside he knows he is different. He and I discussed this many times. The impact of living this way (since birth) is that he's always had to 'fake' it and it's ensured he has no self-esteem. He does fake a high level of confidence to compensate for this. Jeff is 100% about image. He has nothing else, so his image is all he can ever cling to.

To be blunt - if one of Jeff's children were to be seriously injured - Jeff might feel concern, but he could not feel true distress. Again, he's not capable. His brain is not wired like 'normal' people.

As a child, Jeff displayed these tendencies young. He used to torture cats. I suspect there are a lot of secrets in his past. He once admitted to me that he was 'indirectly responsible for the death of a woman'. When I pressed, he told me some story about her committing suicide and how he blamed himself - but that was likely a 'half-truth'. Another trait is that he (and psychopaths across the world) is/are pathological liar(s).

Jeff is non-confrontational. He is a coward. He will actually hide from confrontation. Remember the incident at Golden Corral where a man was in my face yelling at me and Jeff was actually looking the other way (he was terrified). But he won't always be...most psychos begin to move towards violent tendencies as they age. Jeff's about 4-5 years away from becoming dangerous.

Psychopaths are notoriously VERY charming and Jeff was no exception. They learn to manipulate people's emotions because they are constantly faking their own responses and emotions and they ultimately learn what works and what does not. If Jeff is attracted to a woman, he will 'test' her out by flirting and once he sees what works he lays it on thick.

He also likes to play "fallen angel" and let women think they're unique to him. "I never knew I could feel this way...", "I never knew I could care about someone this much...", "I've never known real love until you...", "you make me a better person..." - all trademark lines he uses confirmed by me and women of his past.

Back to his need for a vulnerable woman. He prefers them to be vulnerable because he can try to appear like the strong knight in shining armor and earn their undying loyalty. If you remember correctly, Jeff fell in love with me when Hurricane Wilma took my house and left me homeless. Suddenly he was buying me a condo and wanted to 'take care of me'.

Why? Not love. Because I was vulnerable and he could 'save the day' and know it would make him a hero in my eyes. He needed to be seen that way. It made me trust him, love him and made me loyal to him.

Jill? Well, gee...she's a single mom of 4 kids. Her divorce to a mega-rich developer was final on October 31st. Not only does Jeff see dollar signs in her - and power through her connections - but she had the vulnerability thing going for her. She simply had better things to offer him. She had more money and she had the connections that he would feel he could gain power and influence through.

I can promise you right now that he will never ever marry her because it would cut into her alimony. And as long as she has alimony, she has her own money...and money for him. He'll make a big show of not wanting to take her money, but in the end he'll be drawn to the luxuries in her life.

It's not possible for me to be jealous because I know him. If you catch Jeff during an honest moment, he knows everything above is true too. We've discussed it openly. I once described him as the scorpion in the old 'scorpion and the frog' analogy. Jeff was taken aback by that.

"You think I'm the scorpion?" he asked me.

"You know you are," I answered him

He agreed. What Jeff didn't like was that I knew him. He told me I was too close. He admitted I knew him better than he knew himself. He would not dispute a single thing I have written.

Still...I loved him. What choice did I have? He was a master of the game and he made sure I loved him. I believed our love could save him.

But the research all proves that there is no cure, no treatment and no hope for this disorder. He simply is the scorpion. I didn't want to believe that but yes, I knew. I'd read it all.

So, when I rage here about Jeff and how he deserves to die - understand that it comes from a different place than you might think.

On one hand, he is very mentally ill. Is it fair of me to punish him for being the way that he is when he can not change? Is it right to condemn him for actions that are as much a birth defect as if he'd been born legless?

On the other - this is a man who is a danger to the world. He is pure evil and any research you find on the nature of a psychopath will confirm this. Again, this is not me just being 'cute' and calling him names...he actually is evil. He is a pathological liar, a manipulator, a con artist, a fraud (with a felony conviction to prove it) and he purposely uses and destroys every life he comes into contact with. He doesn't intend to, but it's his nature.

So yes, he deserves death. He can not be saved. He can not be helped. He will continue to ruin lives. Other notable psychopaths include Ted Bundy (also described as incredibly charming). Jeff will be as serious a menace. I can honestly tell you that I would not be shocked to learn Jeff had committed murders in his past. I can tell you that I know him well enough to know he could do it and not let it falter his step in the least. If he hasn't - he most likely will. The nature of a psychopath is that they grow increasingly frustrated with their lack of ability to accomplish what they want. They briefly succeed in business only to fail when they lose focus. They fail in relationships. Eventually, the frustration takes a deep toll.

Author Ann Rule, who knew Bundy personally even before the murders, believed that he was a "shadow man" who allowed the world to see what he wanted it to see and hid who he really was behind a façade. Rule stated that to most people, Bundy was a handsome, articulate, courtly, and brilliant law student, who loved to ski, sail and hike. He favored French cuisine, good wine, and gourmet cooking. But in reality, Bundy loved material possessions more than he loved people, and cared about objects such as an abandoned bicycle or an old car with more compassion than he could ever feel for another person. Rule stated that she believed that Bundy had no conscience or superego, and that he was merely mimicking the feelings of those he encountered in order to gain favor with them.

I would suspect Jeff could become a rapist. I mentioned that he was incredibly turned on when I would "fight' him in bed. I couldn't hurt him - he doesn't feel pain like nomal people do.

Like psychopaths, Jeff has some basic traits. He rips out his hair under stress. He doesn't sleep. He lies. He spends money carelessly.

When (if) Jeff snaps it's not hard to believe I'd be a victim. The problem is that I know and understand him too well and my very existence (and the fact that I am talking) is a serious threat to him. If I published this with his full name (so very tempting) it would be a huge threat to him.

He used to talk about having Dawn killed. He told me it would cost $10k. I thought he was being a smartass. Now, I am pretty sure he was serious. He said he couldn't because he'd be the prime suspect. When she was sick he'd laugh about it. When she had some sort of skin cancer, he'd voice his hopes that she'd die so he could take his boys. He laughed. What man laughs at cancer attacking the mother of his children?

Yes, I am to blame for falling for him. In my defense, I was in love before I realized what I had on my hands. By then, I was naive and believed we could handle it together. I didn't take most of my glimpses into his true self seriously. I told myself he was a wise-ass. I told myself he didn't mean it.

But all the answers were there.

So yes, I am consumed with anger and hatred. I am angry with myself for falling for it and being a victim. I am angry with him for targeting me.

I represented a challenge to Jeff. Remember how everyone so admired my marriage with Brad? Jeff was aware of it. To 'take me' away was a great challenge. Once the Hurricane hit, he saw his opportunity and he moved in full steam.

Now he's moved on. He calls her his girlfriend. I will tell you now she's only the next victim. When Jeff first described her to me he referred to her as "old" (40's) with (4 kids). He said she was attractive but he reiterated that she was 'old' repeatedly.

And, for the record, in addition to recollections, I have IMs and emails to back up everything I have said here.

Further, a thorough read of my archives and my past blogs will prove I chronicled every moment of this entire sham.

Just writing this post is a danger. Jeff no longer reads, but he still could and he would be apalled at very word. It's all true and he knows it, but he'd want to kill me for it.

If anything ever happens to me, several people know and have enough evidence to ensure he pays for it. One person in particular has a full list of contacts for everyone from Jill to his probation officer to his family 'just in case'.

This is why this is so hard. I'm not getting over a 'break-up'. I'm coming to terms with being the victim of a monster and watching him move on to another victim.

And I can't stop him.

But I can chronicle what happened to me here in my diary.

I weighed warning Jill. Dawn was adamant that she needed to be warned and I couldn't do it. She said she would. She never did. The truth is that Jill wouldn't listen. Just like I didn't. Jeff would tell her I am a bitter ex (like he told me Dawn was) and she'd believe him because she only knows what she's seen in him...and he only shows what he wants you to see.

They say that the movie "The Talented Mr. Ripley" best represents a psychopath's nature. I avoided watching it, but I think it's time...