Dating after divorcing a ManGroomer™

People, I got boyfriend, a lover, a companion (what the hell do I call a guy I like, we do it and he spends the night when I'm 46?) I shall refer to him as my Manfriend™.

I've been keeping my red flag detector hidden. Of course I did a full background check on myfloridacounty.com. He truly was divorced for 5 years. He really does have a condo he is buying. He's polite. He plans dates. One night he asked me if I was comfortable in bed because he had his arm around me. I almost had a fuckin seizure. I've never had a guy ask me if I was comfortable. They sure will tell you if you inadvertently bump them with your elbow and it hurts while you're blowing them. Ugh. This one is different.

We talked tonight about what our "Issues" were. He quietly said his are around trust and fear of abandonment. (his father died when he was 11--same as me). I agreed that when you lose a parent that young that abandonment could come up. It was my turn to share. People, we know I got a long ass list. I stuck with the top level items. Trust particularly around cheating. I experienced a large amount betrayal in a short period of time--John, match.com tool, Spencer, Special Ops Boy and Dillhole. Thank god I didnt sleep with them all. My other one is convincing myself that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. I didn't tell him that one. I can't show all my crazy cards. I also know I can be kinda sassy to cover up my nerves.

He will occasionally say that I am "crazy". I had him clarify that he meant in a funny way. I told him I've had extensive sessions with the finest therapist in Tampa Bay and I'm essentially cured. Some of my friends read this,but more strangers follow the blog. I talk like I write. It's in my mind and my mouth is open and the words tumble out.

Tonight I told him I write a blog(and that I haven't blogged much lately since I was making up for lost time in the sex department). I also told him I would not feel comfortable letting him read it. Some is me at my worse. A lot of me at my funniest. It may show sides that a manfriend may never see and may not need to see. He said he understood. Give me your opinion. You guys have been reading this since the beginning.

He's kind and really smart. He's good looking. He loves my animals. I started to fall when he kissed my dog on the head goodbye. He doesn't compliment with words. I don't like to fish for em either. Lord knows after the road I've been these past few years a girl has gotta hear some nice stuff. I stare at his eyes and his smile and I think that's it. That's his compliment. And then he pets Daisy.

I need a secret Manfriend™ decoder ring...

Sending off the vibe

I have so much to write about. I have been sending myself emails so I don't forgot. Okay, in the last 2 weeks I have been contacted by 3 guys from the past. Let's examine:

#1: Guy from past that I haven't seen in forever. I don't think he even got a name on here (he was B.B.--before blog). He sends me an after midnight text that simply reads, "I want to lick you.". WTF? Does that work? My niece said she bets he sent that out to all the ladies in his cell and waited to see who responded first. I just deleted it.

#2: Out of Town Liaision. Oy. A drunk call. Apologizing. Saying he messed up with me. He missed his opportunity. Blah, blah, blah. I thanked him for his apology. I reminded him that I have moved on. He then suggests we get together. Ugh.

#3: Dillhole. This is the oddest. I get a text that says "Happy Nurses Week." Okay, I don't work as a nurse now. Wasn't aware it was their week and WTF? I write back, "huh?". (thanks to Polly for that suggestion). We corresponded a bit about healthcare (yes that was a springboard to talk about the economy and healthcare reform). It was weird. I started to analyze it and then I quickly dropped it. The road to Dillhole leads to CrazyTown™.

Ghosts in general

I was with a Polly today driving over to Hyde Park Village. She used a road to cut through that I NEVER use. It is the road that Dillhole's house is on. I couldn't resist.I looked right as we drove by. There was a woman on the front porch arranging flowers in a pot. Geraniums. Red ones. I'm sure it was a girlfriend. It was weird. He is the one guy that I spent the best years of my ass on. Polly asked me if it bugged me. At first it didn't. I knew he was dating someone. It had been years since we we're together in a romantic sense. The more I thought about it, the more it bugged me. I don't know if I can even describe the type of "bugging me" feeling it was. He is the one guy that I put my life on hold to be with. I think it brought up anger at myself for the time I sent (therapy has taught me to refrain from using the word "wasted").

It seems like guys just compartmentalize and move on. Maybe there is a lesson there...

Ghosts from Christmas Past

On Christmas Eve I got a text from an area code that makes me nervous. I have only saved one number from that time in my life and it is Phil the Attorney (of the "his erections are no longer your concern" fame). 

It was from one of John's boys. One of the twins. I was SHOCKED to get a text from him. Their father (lower case intended) had told them there would be no money for college because of Penelope. Here it is:

Next, (I cut some of this off since it has all their names in it). He is white and I am green:

Some redundancy here--trying to take screen shots.

We always made apple pies on holidays. I had no idea what to talk to him about. I was (am) heartbroken that all 3 boys stopped talking to me because of their father. I  left it with the apple pie. I didn't know what else to say. I showed it to my niece the next day. She told me I left him hanging. So I wrote him a Christmas text. I'm green and he is white.:

I can't help but analyze--why is he reaching out now? Was he fishing to see if I had a boyfriend with the "whatd u get for xmas" question? In the text that I cut out I asked about his brothers and told him to tell them I asked about them and to say hello. I wondered if he told them he texted me. I wondered what they said. The little one (his twin--call him H) sent me some rough texts when things really fell apart when I had to take John back to court. His father told him I was trying to take his money. H believed his dad (which I understand). I took the high road. I didn't point out that they lived in a crappy 2 bedroom rental house before we were married and that they style of living increased dramatically when I came onto the scene. He just kept writing me texts saying, "I never thought u would do this." It sucked. I used to get really stuck in a circle of "don't they know I left tons of things there so the house would not seem different and they wouldn't suffer?, Do they know how I paid for most of their food and clothes at our house? I defended them when John wanted to ground them for every little thing? I read tons of books on being a good Step Parent and I went to a counselor just to get guidance on being a Step Mom?" 

But wait, that's not all! Sulie and I were driving back from our trip south. She turns to me and says, "I can't find my phone." I tell her I will get off at the next exit. I decided to go ahead and get gas. She finds her phone in a bag in the truck and runs into the store while I get gas. When she comes out she says, "That is David W. over there." David W. is a guy I dated for about 6 months back in 2000. He was one of the many maybethisonewillgetmymindoffofDillhole detours. David W. was coo-coo for Coco Puffs. He was really smart, fun to be around and as you got to know him his damage was crystal clear. He suffered a lot of abuse as a child and it was sad. He just dropped off the face of the earth. Left town. No call. No email. Wacko. This was after he spent the week before with me at the beach. He called me 6-9 months after he left. He said he had moved out of state and was seeing a doctor and he needed to call and apologize (obviously doing a 12 step program). He told me he was on medication and doing much better. My reply (and please note Dear Readers, I have done a lot of self work in these last 11 years) was "Crawl back under the rock you came from!" and I hung up. Shit, 11 years later and he's at the same Mobil station as me on the day after Christmas in some little Florida town. What are the chances? He was with a woman who looked older. I think he was about 5 years older than me. This woman looked older than 50. He didn't see me or Sulie. I drove around so I could see his tag. The car was from a town in Tampa Bay. How weird is that? I am all about signs. What does it all mean? Something about forgiveness? I hadn't thought about the rock comment in years. It was not a pleasant thing to remember about myself.

Not sure how to end this post other than I have been a writing fool tonight...

Funny How the Mind Works

I woke up this morning and the first thing I thought of was John. I could see his head (the one I used to love) that now resembled a big orange, round basketball. Flashes came into my mind of him yelling at me after I contacted Pao, seeing the boys bawling when I went to tell them goodbye and saying goodbye to Aunt Francis. Aunt Francis is John's Mother's sister. His mother was deceased, so Aunt Francis stood in like a surrogate Grandma. I could see her crying in my mind just like the day Sulie and I went by to say goodbye (and yes, I was well juiced with Xanax). 

I started to wonder as I lay (or did I lie) in bed with my fists clenched remembering all the shit from 3 years ago. Why was this coming up again? What triggered it? I started to put it together.

Today is Thanksgiving. Sulie is making Aunt Francis' sweet potato recipe. Side bar about Aunt Francis. She knows a little bit about cheating. She found out her husband was cheating when her kids were really little. She was convicted of killing the mistress. Apparently she disposed of the body by making the body into smaller pieces (I'm trying to be subtle) and placing them in a hefty bag. She never spoke of her time in jail. I only knew the story from John. She was very nice and loved the boys. When I told her that I drove to Pao's house just to talk to her, Aunt Francis replied, "I would have done more than just talk!" Okay, Francis' sweet potatoes = Trigger #1.

Last night I watched the movie One Hour Photo. It is several years old. Robin Williams (the artist formerly known as Mork) played a wacko that works in a 1 hour photo department. He becomes obsessed with a family and finds out the husband is cheating. There is a scene where the wife realizes her husband is screwing another woman. I watched the actress' face. I was transported back to the night I drove back to Lafayette after I read the text. I haven't thought about that night in forever. Note to self--no more cheating movies. One Hour Photo = Trigger #2.

Night before last, I got a text from a number I didn't recognize. It said, "Thanks for the card and the call. It was appreciated." I thought about who I had sent a card to lately. My aunt in Pennsylvania that doesn't own an answering machine, let alone a cell phone. My neighbor that just had to put his dog to sleep. I hadn't called him though. I wrote back my standard reply, "I got a new phone. I'm sorry I'm not sure who this is." No reply. I emailed my neighbor and asked him for his cell number. He replied with the number and added "no heavy breathing". The number was different than the one I had gotten the unknown text from. (p.s. I have no interest in heavy breathing with the neighbor). I forgot about it until last night. Then I had a brilliant idea. I have a Blackberry for work that I use for email. The phone works on it, but is does not have voicemail set up. It has a Seattle area code. I dialed the unknown number to see who answered. Ring, ring, ring (excellent, I'm going to get voicemail) then the voicemail starts, "Hello, you've reached Dillhole. Please leave a message." I hung up. So weird. I sent him a card and left a message months ago when his Father and Mother died. Who knows what triggered that text. Things ended so badly with him--all around cheating.  I am confident this was Trigger #3.

So I figured out why I was having John flashbacks. Now what do I do to make them go away? I just sat here and thought of all the things I have done in the past 3 years. I moved back to Tampa, I had back surgery, I got laid off, I went back to school and finished my bachelor's, I bought a house, I got a job, I reconnected with my niece, and I'm even closer with my sister. 

Basketball head is a speck.

Free Will

It is interesting what posts really strike a chord with folks. It can be funny references about bush management or something I typed in passing the other day-- "I can't imagine ever saying I love you to anyone ever again". That one stirred things up for peoples. I got quite a few private emails on that one. Lots of "I've felt that too" along with many "Don't worry it will happen again". I know both are true. 

Thanks to a little vino, I am going to type run on sentences with limited punctuation or care. I truly think I have avoided boys on purpose. I had a party last Christmas (an Amy Dalley house party that rocked. Yes, I had a concert in my living room and I am the COOLEST person on my block). My next door neighbor (a guy, friends with Dillhole) made a loud crack in front of everyone that my house used to be a revolving door of guys when I first moved in. It pissed me off. In my defense SOB had 2 different cars and another time he had a rental (so 1 penis = 3 penises to the casual observer). The Cat Whisperer also had 2 different cars and a Harley (again, 3 different types of transportation appeared to be 3 cocks, but in reality was 1 cock). So that math is 2 cars + 1 rental + 1 Harley + 1 Jeep + 1 truck= 2 meaningless cocks. It's the new math. Oops, forgot about Spencer, another meaningless cock (he drove a Rav 4). Embarrassing. I fucked a man that drove a Rav 4. I was depressed. I also wore Scrunchies™ in my hair circa 1986. We all have our demons.

But what was my point? I let 3 meaningless cocks in (I am talking literally). WTF? None of them were especially interesting or fun to be with...I lowered my standards. I ate at McDonald's when I should have bought some chicken and cooked it myself (I know you know what I'm sayin'). 

I think I needed to get that shit out of my system. John devastated me. My self esteem was so shattered that I had to aim low to start with. Fucked up, but makes sense (to me at least). 

I can totally get staying alone and not opening up. But it has gotten old. There are nights when I am blasting music and dazzling my animals with my knowledge of Led Zeppelin and current events and I will pause and say, "Self, I can't believe you are home alone." It becomes a habit. I've convinced myself it is easier to be alone. I used to work with a nurse that was the age that I am now when I was in my late 20's. She would always say, "Penelope, expect the worst, that way you will never be disappointed." It used to freak me out. Shit, have I become her? She drank White Zinfandel from a box. No, I have not become her. 

I have so many desirable traits in a woman that any boy would love: 

• I can sing the entire Beastie Boys Licensed to Ill album from beginning to end.
• I know a little bit about a lot.
• I won't ask you for money.
• I can find humor in everything. 
• I've probably seen more concerts than you.
• I don't want you to come along when I go clothes shopping.
• I hate terms like "honey and "baby". I like terms of endearment like "fucker".
• I keep my bush perfectly coiffed (and my head hair, nails and toes).

I am going to hit publish without proofing and hope I make sense. I'll probably read this in the morning and fix (or delete).

I shall end with a lyric I love "If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice".

Dillhole Part Deux

My next door neighbor Randy is friends with Dillhole. They do the happy hour thing and play soccer together. A couple of days ago Randy told me that Dillhole's Mother had died. His Father had also died less than 6 months ago. I felt my stomach turn. Tears came to my eyes. I was heartbroken for him. Apparently his Mom had moved in with him after his Dad died. It sounded like she had died of heartbreak. I asked Randy if he had the same cell number and I blurted out a string of 7 numbers that had been deleted from my phone, but were engrained in my brain. Randy said it was the right number. I called it and got a recording that the number was not receiving calls. I am pretty tech savvy--I didn't think you could block cell numbers, but it seemed like I had been blocked. I told Randy I couldn't get through. He didn't know much of our story (I was always a secret).  Randy told me that Dillhole (I feel disrespectful continuing to call him that--let's call him D which is the initial of his first name) played soccer the day after his Mom died. That is so D. He would put his head in the sand and act like everything was great even when his world was imploding. It actually helped ease the sting of a 12 year old memory of him leaving me in my apartment in a very low place to go to volleyball practice. The lightbulb went off. I had resented the FUCK out of him for years. I realized it was the best that guy could do.

But enough about me. The man I was in knock down, drag out love for years is in pain. I accepted the fact that I couldn't call him and realized that is for the best. I wrote a simple note and put it in the mail.

I may go back at a later date and fill in the rest of the story. There is a lot more. Right now I will let it rest.

Dillhole Part I

I often get emails from folks that read the blog--most of them are strangers. I get some emails with stories that make John look like a saint. I got one last week that has haunted me. I don't feel comfortable sharing the details since it is not my story and I don't know her personally. I had an early morning and I had to drive 3 hours to Naples for work. I kept thinking about the email from the blog reader. This woman really tried to make it work with a man that sounded incapable of a relationship. I've been that woman. As I drove down I-75 to Naples, I thought about all the years I spent in a relationship with a man that treated me like I didn't matter. Last week one of my friends asked me, "why don't you explain who Dillhole is?" (we became friends post Dillhole, so she didn't know the history). When I reflect on my relationship history it's like piecing together a mystery. 

I met Dillhole in Gainesville in 1987. He was a friend of a guy I worked with who eventually became my boyfriend. The first time I met Dillhole we fought. I was at a party at their house (they were also roommates). He was standing by the fireplace. Cute. Drunk. Arrogant. I can't remember the conversation, but I remember calling him a dick. We would cross paths several times over the next few years. He came to Boulder to visit when I lived there with my then boyfriend. We rented a condo and all went skiing. I remember thinking, "he is still a dick." He always had a cold side to him. We moved back to Tampa in 1990 and I went to nursing school. Dillhole also lived in Tampa got married to his college sweetheart. The guys were not a fan. Ironically, she has the same name as me. She came from a wealthy family and had that "way" about her. She was not very interesting and tedious to be around. She was also overweight. It wasn't so much that she was overweight--she had the personality to match the weight. Not very motivated. It was one of those situations that everyone questioned the attraction. After they were married we would get together to do couples things and it was painful. She bored me to tears. I recall her explaining to me at length why she felt she deserved to be able to buy $40 shampoo (this was 20 years ago). Ugh.

Fast forward to 1994. I was no longer with that boyfriend. I had dated the Bald Headed Bastard afterwards (I shall blog about him later). BHB and I had broken up and I saw Dillhole out one night. We sat and talked and had a good time. He was kinda funny and I always thought he was cute. I didn't see a ring and he didn't talk about his wife. We exchanged numbers. He called me a week later and asked me to a movie. I met him. It ended up he was still married. Penelope (recall--same name) lived in Gainesville during the week for work and would come home on the weekends. It was weird. We didn't talk about their relationship. He counseled me on dating and seemed to live vicariously through my stories of going out with my friends and guys. I worked as an ICU nurse and had a great job. I worked two 12 hour shifts on the weekend and got paid for 36 hours. It was great. I went to the beach a lot, read tons of books and hung out with friends.

Remember the night of OJ and the white Ford Bronco cop chase? I had met Dillhole out and we were watching the whole thing on the bar T.V. It got late and he invited me to his place to go swimming. I went. He gave me a t-shirt and boxers to wear. We got into the pool and within minutes it was all over. Penelope don't kiss and tell so that will be the extent of details. Okay, it involved being carried inside and staying up all night. I had to be at work at 0700 and be a nurse. It was ugly. He called me at work around 2 in the afternoon and told me he was physically ill over the whole thing. He said he loved his wife and it would never happen again. I told him I agreed. It was so long ago that I don't recall the exact day of the week,  but he called me early the next week and we started to see each other every day. My life became all about Dillhole. It was bad. Very bad. We would meet in the morning, meet for lunch, meet for drinks, meet for dinner out, make dinner in, we would watch movies together--he became a big part of my life. I am fuzzy on when it happened but the "I love yous" started. My life became secretive. It was like being a junkie. I couldn't tell anyone about him. Only Sulie knew. Later, I told my friend Betty. I had a big circle of friends that thought I was single. His wife would be gone all week and come home on Saturday and head back to Gainesville on Sunday. He started to share with me the issues they had. It eased my guilt. I rationalized that he was good guy that married the wrong person. None of his friends liked her, right?

This started in June and in the following November Dillhole called me and said he wanted to come over. He told me his wife was moving back to Tampa and that he was going to try to make it work with her. I had the calm exterior (I'm a good actress). Inside I was devastated. I remember one night when he was at my apartment. He was in my bed and he said, "I need to make a call." He called his wife in Gainesville to tell her goodnight from my home phone! He actually said, "I love you too" while he was naked and post coital in MY bed. I remember thinking to myself, "what the hell am I doing?"

She moved back and the holidays were upon us. I think I have blocked most of it out, but I vaguely recall staying in bed and watching lots of movies. The guy at Blockbuster knew me and started making recommendations of movies he thought I would like. Sulie and I drove to Asheville for Thanksgiving. I don't remember it, but she recalls me telling her (as we were driving up the Interstate) that I knew things were going to work out with me and Dillhole. I think that is when Sulie gave him the name Dillhole. It was when Beavis and Butthead was popular. Dillhole was not a kind nickname. It stuck...

To be continued...

Yet another use for a Ziplock bag

I went to a party today that had a woman reading tarot cards. I had never done that before. I had my palm read on South Beach a few year ago, but never tarot cards. My friend had the tarot card reader set up in a back room. We took terms going back for a 15 minute reading. I walked into the room with a smile. I had no idea what to expect. She asked me what question I had for her. I was unprepared because I didn't know I was supposed to come with a question. I laughed and said, "I bet it's the same question most people ask you--what is going to happen with my love life?" She laughed and had me shuffle the deck. I can't remember the whole order, but there was a main theme. At first she said, "are you in a relationship now?" I said no. She frowned and asked, "did one end recently?" I told her no and that I had been divorced for a couple of years, but the financial part drug out. She said, "Ohhhh...now I see." She commented how busy and productive I am and that I am happy and I have a good life, but no man (thanks...tell me something I don't know). She said she felt a strong theme of frustration around dating. I laughed and gave her the Reader's Digest version of AssClowns and match.com. She transformed before my eyes. She went from Tarot Card Reader to Sister Friend. Her shoulders slumped and her voiced changed. She said, "men are just looking to get laid on match. It is a good thing that you cancelled." Then she went back to Tarot Card Reader. Shoulders back, false eyelashes fluttering, and cards flying. Then she looked directly at me and asked, "is there a man from your past that has come back into your life?" I said no. She said there is one. I told her that there was an on/off/on/off/on/off (I lost count of the ons and offs) guy (that would be Dillhole on here). She said he was coming back into my life and this is a red flag (RED FLAG--her exact quote). She said he was bad news and to stay away. She then told me to put his name on a piece of paper, put it in a ziplock bag and put it in my freezer. She said that would block him! I promised I would do just that. She went on to some new cards. She flipped one that had a crow (I think) and she muttered, "oh no..." I said, "don't say that!" She asked, "are you sure that you no longer have contact with your ex husband? Are there kids you stay in contact with?" I quickly gave her the 2 minute recap of "No. He won't let them talk to me but there is his wacky first wife..." (p.s. I did not update you Dear Readers, that Annie  emailed me twice last week and called me last Friday. She wants to catch up and needs help on a job search. I emailed her back that I was pretty busy. I was all business, but I was a pussy.I had an opportunity to really set limits and I didn't do it. She called me even when I wrote to her that I was unable to talk.) Tarot Lady's eyes got big and she said, "that's it." She said you need to block her. She is trying to keep you connected to this John. Put her name on a piece of paper, put it in a ziplock and freeze it!

So here they are...right next to the Ezekiel bread that tastes like shit. It may be hooey, but I wrote those names down and put them in their own little bags and tossed them in the freezer!

Signs and Love

I am not a long skirt wearing, incense burning, crystal rubbing believer, but I do think there is something to astrology when it comes to compatibility.  I just cut and pasted this:

Pisces: February 19 – March 20 Symbol: Fish

You look to your instincts instead of logic and facts. You are empathetic, intuitive and honest. You go with the flow and choose not to fight the current.

Perfect match: Cancer, Scorpio

Almost perfect: Taurus, Capricorn

Opposites attract: Leo, Libra

Signs to learn from: Aries, Aquarius

Not your destiny: Gemini, Sagittarius

Interesting....

• Never been with a Cancer or a Scorpio.
• Dillhole was a Taurus and I used to think it was almost perfect. A college boyfriend was a Capricorn  and I used to think that was almost perfect. We never fought.
• George is a Leo and that was definitely an opposites attract.
• My first husband is an Aries and I did learn from him. Spencer is an Aquarius and I learned not to date tools like him.
• Gemini is not my destiny. That is an understatement. John killed it for all Geminis in my future. Seriously, I've had guys approach me and when I hear Gemini I make an excuse to haul ass.

There is something to it--my friend AmyD is a Gemini (she says only the good parts) and her hubs is an Aquarius. That is supposed to be a perfect match and they are a perfect match. Ironically, the other perfect match for Gemini is Libra. John is a Gemini and Annie is a Libra. Hmmmm...

I think I will change my match profile to something like "Scorpios and Cancers only need apply". I am sure that will be a winner.

Here's the site I used:

http://www.exploringpsychics.com/love-match.html