One day a year

Yesterday was the anniversary of two people brought into this world that have changed my life: my ex husband and my sister.  Happy Birthday to the both of you.

I took a bit of time as I was going to get the mail at work to call my sister.  She lives back home in IL in a small town in Bloomington.  We live in two completely different worlds, not just zip codes. 

Hers is one of black and white.  Mine is…

She works at a school over there doing administration and testing.  She went right into college after high school and has a degree as a social worker.  Until a couple of years ago, she was doing nothing with it.  She was working in a Copy Max as a retail manager.

She, for the most part has stayed in the same place her whole life.  I have lived the life of a vagabond. 

Her relationship with my more colorful yet corporate dad is strained.  My relationship with the mundane nothingness that is my mother’s world is far from being anything grand.

My sister and I look little alike.  She takes after my mother and I’m very much so like dad.   I have had no problems finding suitors.  She has always struggled.

She nearly married her high school sweetheart. 

Nearly is a good word when it doesn’t apply to you.

Nearly won the Pulitizer prize.

Nearly made it to work on time.

Nearly got into that club for the party of the century.

Ah, nearly.

It’s definition should simply be: first loser.

It’s a word that would succinctly capture the story about Shawn.  But that’s the cart before the horse.

Jessica’s highschool sweetheart, Willy, broke up with her and married the woman right after her.  My sister must not have taken this very well as she then turned around and married his older brother- a year to the day after.  But hey, maybe she really meant it when she said it wasn’t intentional and that Shawn didn’t remember that when they picked the date.  I mean, he is a recovering alcoholic after all so I could completely understand that reasoning of logic.

My sister had been since supporting him throughout the duration of their marriage thusfar while he just mooched off her.  After exiting a marriage where my husband didn’t want me to be independent financially, I couldn’t fathom why she ever would want to carry a “man.”

I remember the days when we were younger we used to play together.  Hell there may be a cassette tape where we recorded bits and goofed around with buried somewhere in piles of things left in my mothers garage in suburbian IL.

These days?  We don’t talk much.  Not for lack to talk about, but more of the “agree to disagree” sort of lifestyle differences.  I understand her choices but I don’t think she understands mine.  Again, she is like mom and I oftentimes find myself questioning mom if she and I even legitamitatly share DNA.

Needless to say I have never really been close to that side of my family.  I wish it were different.  Maybe in another dimension it would be.

Yesterday I called her.  I’d heard pieces from dad about how things were with her.  Reminders of how much so we really were not alike.

I wasn’t sure if the rumor that Shawn would be going to jail for violation of his probation was true or if somehow he’d gotten his act together.  He’d gotten into drugs and was being watched regarding selling.

My family has said that they hope she leaves Shawn, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.  They have a child together.  My sister has always wanted to be loved and have children.  I saw the look in her eyes as I went on my way and had mine. 

Envious. 

Longing.

It is for these reasons that I tried to talk to her yesterday.  I wanted to see if she was alright.  Instead when I asked how things, she was secretive.

I asked her if she was ok.  She operated as if nothing were wrong.

“He’s away.  He will be away for a long time.  But it’s alright.  We are still together.”

She didn’t need to tell me.  I knew then that he had gone to jail.

  “Where is away?  Is it a business trip?  What’s going on?”

She got upset.  Told me it was nothing.  Told me thank you for calling.  She got abrasive.

Yesterday was the anniversary of the entrance of two people who would change my life.  I am happy with where I came from.  I am happy with where I am going.  I am glad that our paths crossed ways.  I am also glad… that we are parting.

Like so many people I run into… she seems to not realize her potential. 

I’m noticing a pattern and taking some action.

It’s going to be a long December.  For me, this one is going to be focused on working further towards my own potential in double time.  Thanks for the reminder sis and best of luck to you.

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Prose: Untitled focus

“Enjoy the concert.  Here’s hoping this guy makes you smile.” he said as I was preparing to leave.

A text message from another world came in… what he didn’t know, was that I was already glowing.

“I don’t need a dude to have a good time.”  I told him.

And I didn’t.

And I don’t.

I realized that anything above and beyond that, regardless if worked out or not, was just a bonus.

It has taken me a long time to get here, but I’ve finally arrived.

This is who I am.

This is who I want to be.

It’s nice to meet

… me.

My eyes are open.

My heart is as well.

Love is a battlefield.  You don’t have to retreat but you have to keep your shield up, even if it is a weapon as the Spartans say.

I am prepared to be the person I have always wanted to be…

I am prepared to learn the lessons and experience the pain and the levity without prejudice.

Because that is how you get stronger.

Because that is how you progress.

With a concrete squishy heart…

With eyes wide open…

I know that anything is possible.

Brutal honesty: Unhappiness in the military

DISCLAIMER: As a note to all my friends and to people all over the world within the military, this blog is not to belittle your efforts, dedication, hard work or jobs.  I know that there is so much that you do than what is in the focus of this blog.  This is to those lost souls that have turned to the military to complete themselves rather than a foundation based in patriotism.

On one gaming forum that I belong to, I’ve made a few friends-people that have both helped me through hard times as well as touched me through their laughter, stories, and support.  This is the story of one of them.

His name is Hazard Cheif and he’s a pathological liar.  At first, I just thought he was kidding around.  Then the lies got bigger… mafia, car races, cheating girlfriends (ok that one could have been true), boats, yadda yadda yadda.

Sometimes it was funny.  I mean, it felt like a game to a degree.  But over time it became less and less funny.  As a friend, quite frankly I hoped that he would get past this stage in his life and start on the path to finding himself.  Given that I have been on this road (looking to find myself not the pathological lying bit), I distanced myself.  I never really disappeared but I also wasn’t there all of the time.

Once in awhile he will message me.  We will have a bit of loose conversation and then back to poof.

Last night was one of those nights…

(11:44:22 PM) supernerdlady: are you done with the pathological lying yet?
(11:44:33 PM) HaZaRd Cheif : ha yes actually
(11:44:42 PM) HaZaRd Cheif : i’ve left it behind me
(11:44:49 PM) HaZaRd Cheif : along with alot of people
(11:44:58 PM) HaZaRd Cheif : im in the US Navy now

Conversation continued more as I asked him about postcards. He said that he was stationed stateside and had not yet been deployed but would send some when he was.  And then he started to mention that he was actually looking forward to deployment…

(11:47:35 PM) supernerdlady: thats not something to look forward to
(11:49:36 PM) HaZaRd Cheif : i’ve never left the US
(11:49:59 PM) HaZaRd Cheif : it’ll be a chance to see new cultures learn new things meet new people
(11:51:55 PM) HaZaRd Cheif : other than that shit life has actually kinda sucked

It was abundantly clear that he’d joined the service in an attempt to get away from reality rather than face his issues.  As a good friend, I didn’t pander to his statements where he tried to rationalize his choice…

(11:53:33 PM) supernerdlady: escaping doesnt solve anything
(11:53:42 PM) supernerdlady: but thats one thing the service is good for i guess
(11:53:55 PM) HaZaRd Cheif : yea i guess.
(11:54:00 PM) supernerdlady: you dont need to focus on yourself bc you can just do what they tell you
(11:54:03 PM) supernerdlady: be how they tell you
(11:54:36 PM) HaZaRd Cheif : i’ve already been in for a year and 3 months, and i feel like i havent really done anything with my life thats really of any importance
(11:54:57 PM) supernerdlady: what dictates whats important or not?
(11:55:11 PM) supernerdlady: did you learn anything in that time?
(11:56:00 PM) HaZaRd Cheif : i learned…. heh, how to iron military creases in my uniforms, alot about the UCMJ, and that i despise marines… ha

Now before you start with the hate mail, as I stated in the disclaimer above, I will reiterate that this blog is not to belittle your (anyone within the military or friends of someone within the service’s) efforts, dedication, hard work or jobs.  I know that there is so much that you do than what is in the focus of this blog.  This is to those lost souls that have turned to the military to complete themselves rather than a foundation based in patriotism.

He was unhappy and didn’t see just how unhappy he was, or rather, he didn’t know how to.  And then, it happened.  The beginning of the potential end of our friendship…

(12:15:50 AM) supernerdlady: at least its a steady paycheck
(12:15:54 AM) supernerdlady: thats more than i have
(12:16:24 AM) HaZaRd Cheif : yea
(12:16:40 AM) HaZaRd Cheif : id trade the paycheck for happiness anyday

Tick, tick boom.

That was it for me.  I told him flat out what I thought about his statement, and it was not pretty.  It’s so not pretty that I am not going to post it. But here’s a summation of how it went:

I told him that I “would take my poor, artistic, extremely happy but not always perfect or stable paycheck existence over a life like what he was living- without decision making or happiness over his any day.”  I wished him the best of luck to find whatever it is that he is looking for and that the only person that could save him was himself.

It was harsh, brutal honesty.  I let him go.  I meant what I said.  I felt really bad about it.  I know he’s not the only person going through this… so many others like him are experiencing this same pain.  Why doesn’t anyone do anything for these men and women?  Is a future with your own voice really that bad?  In the process of giving someone something they can be confident and successful in with moving up ranks and encouragement, we walk away from what really matters: that same application inwardly.

Mr Hazardous Chief, tread safe out there.  I hope you find the beacon to guide you home safely soon.

Douchebag alert! Username: Durgie

Being a single woman in the greater Los Angeles area, I must say, like most every city, there is no shortage of complete and utter douchebags.  These douchebags give the male race (and the ones that date them) a bad name and thereby ruin it for everyone.

To be fair, there is a perfectly acceptable balance between douchebag and prince charming.  If a man is too nice for example, his chances of sleeping with me reduce drastically.

I didn’t used to know what I wanted.  I was a whiney baby.  But I since pulled my head out of my ass and realized exactly what that is.

I discussed it a bit in the blog “Emotional Masochism” but for those that didn’t catch that, here’s a rough recap:

For me, I’m looking for a very specific catch.

  • I want a man that’s not afraid to be a man.  That means- driven, passionate, goal oriented, and provider.  I do not care about how much money you make.  I tend to be drawn to artists just as I am successful people.  I have dated high on the food chain finance wise, as well as at the bottom.

John Lennon once said “All you need is love.”  And when done properly, he’s completely right.

  • I want someone that’s compassionate to my needs, but I also don’t want a doormat.  You have needs too and sometimes I’m a disrespectful bitch about them.  Make sure I remember that, but do it in a way that’s nonverbal or verbal when needed and in a way that I feel secure.
  • There is a fine line between emotional abuse and tough love.  I think every woman needs to learn where that line is for her and pass it along to her gent.  If he’s a gent, he will understand.  If he’s not, then proceed to walk all over him and let him know that he’s not.
  • I want someone who is going to be there when needed.  But I do not need a constant babysitter.  Babysitters are for girls, and I am a woman.  Granted, there are times when I’m also in need of a babysitter.  However that’s what female friends are for, and/or a therapist.  My problems aren’t your problems.  A real woman takes care of all of that for herself.

Summation:

What is it that I want?

Control enough to lose control and yet still be all right.

——

But this is in regards to a recent email I was sent, by username Durgie.

I belong to quite a few websites and internet dating is the same as in every metropolitan area.  Quite frankly, there’s an epidemic of douchebags in the greater.. resident planet all of us hail from.  However if anyone from the Moon is reading this, I’d just like to mention that I’d love to taste moon cheese at some point.  I’m a conneseuir of cheeses and.. well I hear that is epic in nature.

Here are the letters exchanged between me and Mr “Durgie:”

Durgie [2.16.9, 9pm]:

boo* happy late valentines =) keep warm, and if not.. i have blankets ;D

Me [2.16.9, 11:06pm]:

LOL. happy commercially induced saccarin pocketbook drain day to you too 😛
& welcome to (name of the site)
Durgie [2.27.9, 1:30pm (apparently my work computer shows the future)]:
oh you know it!!! more of a reason for a guy to buy a girl chocolates to get laid!
Ok Mr.  At this point you are deemed pathetic as well as a loser and need to be told as such.  Prepare to be vaporized.
Me [2.27.9, a few minutes prior to transcribing this post, but showing at 3:30pm work computer time (i hope that means its beer thirty soon then)]:
Scandalous:
Just because I have the aka of that on the net, does not mean that I’m into you.  If I am, I’ll let you know.
Otherwise, comments like yours are really just in poor taste.
It’s things like that that are probably why people like you don’t get laid that often.  Except in which case, that you live in LA.  There are plenty of dumb broads that will think those comments are flattering.
I am not one of them however.
That said:
Have a most splendid Friday.  Best of luck to you.  And please refrain from messages like the one below ever again, or I will block you.  Furthermore, just an FYI, that won’t work on about 85% of women, regardless of what location you happen to live in.  So unless you really want to be fucking that bunny rabbit as your avatar on here shows, you might want to remember that.
Kindest regards,
Js.
So there you have it.  Today’s douchebag of the week award goes to you Mr Durgie.
And now I have to go record some video for a project to be announced later this week.
Ciao and happy hunting ladies & gents.

Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction..

I will always love him.

In my dreams, he’s the one who is there. Forever constant though the seasons change. He is the initials carved into the tree trunk.

It’s been nearly a year now. Around this time was when we started our courtship. It would be the breath of life and the last straw on the camels back. But I didn’t know it then. Or at least I didn’t want to admit that it might be. No one ever wants to believe that “it’s just too good to be true..”

Shame on me.

If there exists such a thing as destiny, it was..it is that relationship.

Flashback: Six years ago. Bassam’s cafe. Downtown San Diego. My frequent spot for coffee and smokes. Me- the girl with the red hair, fair skin, white London Fog, a notebook in the corner with my cloves. Him- sipping coffee and puffing away at Nat Shermans.

But we didn’t know each other then. Though we were both regulars to that establishment. Constant passerbys in a laid back metropolis. Faces in the crowd. No one particular.

But then history repeats itself.

Months have gone by.. 6 months passed since we’d seen eachother beyond pixels. It was like nothing had ever happened. To be continued… story of my life. It has been an epic tale of hardship and pain. But one of justification and need not for justification.

Watching Madmen this week solidified it. Everytime I’ve been with someone else, I’ve been looking for you. Why?

I reminsced about those days. Of the honeymoon period where everything was magical. Because it was. And you were. But was it really just a dream within a dream?

Those moments weren’t all magical.

So why do I crave them so badly?

***

Edit:

I think it’s mostly the wonder of “what if” that’s the draw. I can’t believe it’s been this long. Over a year of messaging and what not. And then the timing that seemed so perfect. But if it really was so perfect, why didn’t that move go so smoothly? He’d wanted it to happen. So did I… so badly.

Instead, it was one for the books. Everything fell apart just as quickly as it came together. Perhaps there’s a reason and it’s not just a coincidence. I don’t believe in coincidence anyway.

It’s not the same. It’s probably for the best. Even if you were some of the best sex I’ve ever had. I’m not sure if it was really you or it was just how tumultuous that relationship was. Emotionally masochistic that I am.

You’re gone. I’m happier. No sense living in the past anymore. I just wish you wouldn’t keep popping up everywhere. I just wish that you would fade into that background that you always wanted to be in.. but couldn’t be while you were with me, so you said.

It really is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Thank you for reminding me how strong I am. For believing in me. And for saying goodbye.

A hardened heart… but I did all I could. I’m putting you back into that fantasy and letting you exist only there. It’s better this way. I wish you all the best and am genuinely happy for you and your fair lady.

I got a message when I first met you. Do you remember?

It said: He will break your heart and you will never be the same… but he’s worth it.

How true that seems to have turned out.  If I had to do it all over.. I wouldn’t change a thing.