Is there a statute of limitations on hurt and anger?

I got an email yesterday from a guy that read the blog. He commented that it was intense and that meant I was intense. He also said there was a lot of energy and he wasn't sure if it was anger. He commented how I was obviously stung by a man and hurt by it so many years ago. I read the email a couple of times to make sure I understood it. I felt my cheeks turn red. Not anger...embarrassment. He asked if I felt like it would make it difficult for me to get into a serious relationship again. Email is so hard to get sometimes--I'm in a thing with my boss right now about communication gone haywire. But back to this...I've never censored what I write. I certainly have hit "publish" and then wondered if it was too much. Usually the posts that make me a bit nervous are the ones I get the most emails saying things like, "I feel that way too!"

I don't think the guy meant the email to be mean--he was just writing what he thought. I replied and said I wrote how I felt at the time. I laughingly thought to myself should I change the blog name to the "She-Woman Man Haters Club"? Then I really thought about it. Can you put a timeline on anger? Is there an acceptable amount of time to be hurt before a siren goes off telling you that your time is up? I've got 2 kinds of readers on here. Close friends and complete strangers. My friends would say I am not this bitter woman punching her way through life. I told him in my reply that I did not feel defensive, but I will admit this morning I am starting to feel like I should type things like "but, but, this, this and this happened....!" I'm not going to do that. 3 years ago I could have eaten my way to 200 lbs, drank a bottle of wine a night, stayed on my sofa watching some dumb ass Housewives show and chanted "All Men Suck" until the end of time. Instead I gained 10 lbs, drank 2 glasses of wine a night and ate tortilla chips for dinner while watching trendy series on HBO and Showtime while chanting, "I can't believe I didn't see it."

I think there is a continuum of hurt and anger. We all have different timelines and don't necessarily process things the same way. I met a couple of guys post John that were toxic (Spencer and SOB). It makes sense that if I was still mired in the gunk that I would attract equally unhappy people. 

Perhaps this is an opportunity for a new invention? Chappelle hit on it in one of his sketchs:

Wrap It Up Box - watch more funny videos

Ghosts of Internet Dating Past

Okay, so the other day I get a text from a number I don't recognize. It says "are you working?" I write the polite, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure who this is." They write, "is this Penelope?". I say, "who is this please?" The reply was, "Spencer."  Thanks to the technology of screen shots I can give you a play by play. I couldn't do the initial texts since it has my real name and my cover would be blown...

Commentary...he sent me an email a few weeks ago (which I promptly permanently deleted) and told me he was getting divorced (recall he is the tool that got married 5 months after we stopped dating...) I wasn't rude in my reply email, but I was cool.  Thoughts...he's looking for poonanny. He's white and I'm green in the texts. Notice his defensive tone. 

p.s. in case you are wondering...from Urban Dictionary:

Commentary...Have to put this in context for you. In his email he sent a couple of weeks ago he said he realized he married a woman that he was trying to "save." I didn't ask from what (cuz I didn't really care).

Commentary...The Punisher™

Whutever. I did not reply...

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".

Running from Ethan Hawk

Do you ever meet someone for the first time and they remind you of someone you already know? Not just vague resemblance--talk the same, same way they hold their body, same laugh? Why is it I always meet someone that looks/acts/is just like someone I know and that I don't like? It's never a twin of someone I like.

It is similar with movie actors.Last night I watched Before Sunrise. I never watched it when it came out years ago. I'd heard it was a great love story. I couldn't watch it. You know why? Ethan Hawke. He is a combination of expressions, talking, twitches and laughter of every guy I have ever wanted to run from. I heard a thing on NPR where a reference was made to Before Sunrise. I thought, "I'm going to watch it. I can do it." The red NetFlix envelope came last week. I don't feel like I am going to spoil it for anyone. It has been out since 1995. You've had 15 years to watch it.

Boy meets girl on train. He's American and going to Vienna to catch a flight back to the U.S. in the morning. She's French and going to Paris for school. They talk, they go to lounge car, he convinces her to get off train in Vienna to spend last night with him. He doesn't have money for a hotel. They walk around and talk and kiss and decide they dig each other. The way he convinces her to get off the train with him is a story about "what if?" He says what if years from now you're married and you wonder about al the guys you didn't give a chance? I almost started to type about "what ifs?". I will save that for later. At the end of the movie they decide to meet again in 6 months. I think there was a sequel. I know I can't do it.

Back to how Ethan Hawke reminded me of all the tools I've known before. Watching his creepiness was a great way to see what I have been attracted to in the moment that seemed good, but afterwards grosses me out.

• I'll start with John. He was all into me. Looked at me all googly eyed. While dating, we were in a tiny Italian restaurant on South Beach (checkered table cloths, waiter doesn't speak english, dark--the real deal). He said it reminded him of Lady and The Tramp in the spagetti eating scene. People, that is CHEESY. I thought it was cute at the time...

• How about that laughing and acting like I am the funniest person on earth? (Which I actually am one of the funniest people on earth...) I'm talking about the type of guy that uses it as a way to try to get laid. You know the grab your arms, look you in the eyes and laugh thing. Very Ethan Hawke. Very creepy. I've experienced that in several guys. John told me I was, "a regular Phyllis Diller." I told him that was not a compliment. He said it was because he remembered watching her on Laugh In as a little boy and loving her. A guy in college was very good at using the youaresofunnyIneedtofuckyou technique. Almost every guy I've "been with" has made some type of comment about humor being what attracted them to me. Hmmm....I may start being all black and never make a joke again. That shit has not been working for me. This will be my new look...

• How about the deep conversations about men, women, relationships and the meaning of life? Another big EW. That is so Ethan Hawke and so Spencer. I recently told my sister something Spencer did/said that I had never told her. It so horrified her, that she has brought it up 3 times since. It is too creepy to share on here (I've got standards). She keeps saying, "it just lets me know how sad you were at that time." (i.e. the Penelope she knows would have said "fuck you" and left.) In my defense, he lived about 30 minutes from me and I was tired. I slept and got up at 0545 to leave. Dillhole was all about the deep conversations that lasted for hours.
• That takes me to dressing like I'mtoocooltoworryabouthowIlook. Things I will no longer overlook:
• I'm not shaving on the weekends to give my skin a break. Well, Dickhead, when you don't shave it tears up my face and hurts down there (if I am so lucky for you to be one of the ones that actually performs cunnilingus after the first 6 months...).
• It is so hot in Florida. Shorts are more comfortable. (Even when going out to eat in a nice restaurant). Well, Jizzbag, I've gotten dressed up to go to dinner. We've got things called air conditioning and antiperspirant. I suggest you go find a pair of pants.
• I played golf all day. I'll have hat hair. I'm going to keep the cap on...Okay FuckStick, I'll go throw on a ball-cap too. Instead of Titleist, mine says, I date LOSERS. 

I think this picture I just found of Ethan sums it all up:

Meet Ryan Shawhughes. The nanny to Ethan and Uma's 2 kids back when they were married. Classy Ethan.

Facebook Friends

I have said this before and I will say it again--technology freaks me out. I was just on Facebook looking at all the suggestions for friends. You know how it lists people that are friends with your friends and assumes you may know each other. There really are 4 categories in my book:

1. Yay!--I'm glad I found this friend
2. They were okay--don't know that I really want to have them as a friend
3. The oh no I must block them before they reach out to me friend
4. The cyber voyeur I can see them, but they aren't looking at me and they sure as hell ain't a friend

There are high school friends, present job friends, old job friends, friends of friends, family you like, family you don't like---it is exhausting!

I was just able to browse through pictures of a #2 category. We used to work together. She was okay. I got to see her new boyfriend, his weird chain around his neck,their trip to San Francisco and how she looks in a bathing suit. I do a bit of preemptive blocking (category 3) with folks that I see no reason to connect. #4 category is how I was able to look at Spencer and confirm that he is a freak (he had his wall open for all to see), how I found out SOB has a child (what a frickin liar) and how one of my friends knew her employee was bad mouthing her (the dumb bitch posted things on her wall that was open for all to see). As for category #1--if they are a close friend they are already in my life and we don't need Facebook.

Why am I on there anyway?

The Internet is the new "Bar"

JCH made a good point in a comment--

I still stand by what I said about the internet; it's the new bar. The rule is you never marry someone you meet in a bar. Now it's you never get involved with someone you meet on the internet. Yes there are instances where it works, but thats the rarity.

I would never (watch I use the "n" word and next week I'll post about it) date a guy I met in a bar. So why would I date a guy I met on the Internet? Both Spencer and SOB were Internet catches... 

The 40's are the new 30's, brown is the new black, and the Internet is the new bar. Agreed.

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

I went on a match.com date...

I was holding out...I didn't tell you all that I had emailed back and forth with one of the few sane men on match. I am kind of superstitious--like when you don't tell anyone you're interviewing for a job. We met last Wednesday for a glass of wine. He is 52 (7 years older than me), divorced for 2 years, has 3 grown daughters and works in the legal field. We agreed not to talk on the phone. I've found when I did match last year that it works best just to meet at Starbuck's or for a quick drink. You talk on the phone, the guy sounds great and then you meet someone that doesn't look like his picture and has stank breath (true story). And there is the whole voice thing. I spoke to SOB on the phone first. He has a very unmasculine voice that totally turned me off (should have listenend to my gut...), same thing with Spencer (he sounded totally faggy (again, should have listened to my gut...). But then again, John had a great voice and he is a sociopath.

Let me do a quick walk down Internet dating memory lane. These fine stories are from when I dabbled with match and eharmony in early 2008.

• Large, Stank Breath Guy: Don't remember his name. Great on paper, EXCEPT his 2 boys lived out of state with their Mom. I now know that is a red flag for me. He was funny and smart on the phone. Very cute in pictures (yeah, because they were at least 10 years and 50 pounds prior). We met at Flemings. He was late because he got lost (he was new to the area). He was in a minor rage at himself for getting lost. I told him it was okay and then I smelled the breath...I gulped my wine fast. This is funny--I think I blocked it out until now. SOB was coming over after 0900 pm and I needed to get home!  Never saw stank boy again...
• No Eye Contact Starbuck's Guy: This guy is hot. He had e-mailed me a few times and we talked on the phone. He was cocky. I ignored his emails. He pursued. I was bored. I met him at Starbuck's. He lives in St. Pete and was in Tampa for business off of Hillsborough Ave. He asked me where there was a Starbuck's close by. I sent him the address. We met. He kept complaining because he thought it was "in the hood." The whole time his eyes were looking over my shoulder or past my head. I gulped my O.J., smiled and said I had to get back to work. He texted me later and said, :so what do you think?". I replied, "I think you were really distracted." Never saw No Eye Contact Starbuck's Guy again...until, I just saw last week that he viewed my profile on match. He has been blocked...
• The Cat Whisperer: Okay, this one was a HOT POCKET. We went to MacDinton's for drinks. Good voice, good breath, good body. We made out in the parking lot (I was damaged--don't judge me!). We made a date for the following Friday night. We went to Royal Thai. They all know me there. When I went to the bathroom, Tap, the owner said in her Asian accent, "Penelope, he soooo good looking!" We "saw" each other quite a few times. I had a double feature the first night I saw him. We made out (just kissing, mind you) and then I saw SOB later. My sister and I laughed about that one. I ran home and did a costume change and I was ready for the second show...the reason for the name was he would get on the floor naked (post doing it) and talk to my cats). They loved him. One time I walked into my bedroom and all I see is his balls dangling and he's baby talking to May. He was too good looking (there is such a thing) and very neurotic (he'd straighten my pictures, make my bed {freakishly weird} and would constantly tell me things I needed to do to my house). He texted me about 6 months ago. I didn't respond...
• Boring University of Tampa Professor: He bored me. Nuff said...

So, as for the date the other night. I think it went well. We laughed a lot, never had a lull in the conversation and his voice was good. I still have an age hang up that I need to address with my shrink. He is 7 years older than me. He works out, rides his bike, dives and is in good shape. It's not like he came to the date wearing Depends™! He said he would like to see me again. I'll see what happens. I left for Key Largo the next day for a work meeting. I haven't heard from him and I am not sure if that is a bad sign. My work buddy E told me it may take a few days and that the guy may be playing it cool. E is also married and has been with his lovely wife for 20 years. He don't know shit about dating but I do need to blog about him. He is one of the GOOD guys. Stay tuned for that one!

The 5 Stages of Hate

I have 2 girlfriends that are going through divorce. Both of them have children. Both of them are divorcing members of the AssClown Clan™. Both of them will frequently use the phrase, "I hate him." Hate is a big word and a big feeling. I was texting with one of my friends and I told her I thought she would go through stages where the hate would subside. I realized as we were talking about it (via texts since her kids were home) that I now feel a kind of generalized numbness and "Ew!" when I think of John. I have similar feelings for others that range from detached malaise (Alex the bald headed bastard) to laughing freedom (Spencer) to vaguely nauseated pity (Special Ops Boy). All nursing students have to remember the 5 stages of Grief. They are engraved in my brain. I don't have to look them up--Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. If I remember correctly the woman that this work is linked to Elizabeth Kübler-Ross (I just learned an umlaut on a Mac is option U) said that one doesn't always go through the stages in the same order and may not reach every stage. For example, I sadly have a few friends that haven't reached acceptance or they skipped the anger stage in griefing the loss of a loved one. I'm going to take a stab (pun intended) at labeling the 5 stages of grief after figuring out you were with a liar or cheater or a combo of the two which could be a 'Chiar'. 

Cheater + Liar =Chiar

5 Stages of Grief Post Recognition of Chiar

1. LaLa--This is a mistake. There has to be an explanation. He loves me. I just co-sgned a mortgage with him. He got me flowers last week. We just had sex 3 hours ago and he told me he loved me...what's a ManGroomer?
2. Ghetto--I am gonna kill that bitch. Where is that mutha fucka? I'm going to kill him. I'm going to put water in the boat and jet ski gas tanks. I'm going to carve my name in the leather of all his precious Johnson and Murphy shoes. I'm faxing copies of their texts to the director of nursing where she works. Whoa.  I thought all those things back then and I decided to chill...until I logged on to Amazon one cold December morning and ordered a case of Vienna Sausages.
3. Waffler--Why did this happen? Is this karma? I'm nice. He isn't so bad. I know he doesn't love her. Is it because I was involved with Dillhole for so long? Is this pay back?  Wanna go with me to Border's to look at self help books? Maybe we can work this out. I hate him. I hate her. Maybe we could go to a marriage counselor. No way. He's a liar. Why didn't I see it? Maybe I can fix it...
4. Medicator--Where's my Xanax? Is it bad to drink wine every day? I'm so tired. I'm going to take a nap. What can I eat? Do you have any candy around here? I love bread. Do you have any pot? And cookies. Where's my drink? 
5. Present--Wait, listen to this story! Can you believe? I wake up without thinking about him. Days go by and he doesn't enter my mind. Heart no longer races when I think about the lies. A detached numbness is all I feel. I am thinking about now or the things I am working towards instead of the past.

I have ridden the roller coaster of all those emotions. I recall the "Ghetto" stage rearing her ugly ass several times. I didn't know I was capable of such anger. I wonder if she kept the parenting magazines I ordered with the "bill me later" option? I no longer believe that I somehow made this happen. I have learned a valuable lesson about listening to my gut. I don't drink wine every day and I hoard Xanax rather than taking it. I wish I could wave a magic wand and help my friends skip all the stages and fast forward to the Present stage. But alas, no magic wand exists...when I Googled "Magic Wand", this kept coming up:

100% Evil

I had a conversation about this today with Polly and Sulie. When someone does something really shitty does it make them a "bad" person? For example, how John conducted himself. Is he evil? Is he bad? He is an extreme example because he obviously has deep problems (I am not being sarcastic. I truly believe he is damaged). I remember really struggling with the fact that I had lived with a monster. I didn't realize good and evil was such a big belief in my life.

Okay, let's move on to other examples. Can a relatively "good" person make bad choices and still be an okay human being? The next example that came up at lunch was Special Ops Boy. Polly said, "What about that guy? He intentionally deceived you." It made me think about things. When I sent him You Are So Busted Email, he replied that he tried to stay away but then he would hear from me and then he would continue. If I knew he was married, I would not have ever talked to him again. That is intentional. And deceptive. I would say it is profoundly immoral and malevolent.

My good friend Birch told me once that when he got serious with his girlfriend he contacted a woman he had been seeing off and on. He said something like: I enjoyed spending time with you. I met a great lady so you and I are not going to have sex with each other again. The lady said something like: Bummer. I'll miss you. Good luck and thanks. Respectful. Adult. Honest.

I think about Spencer. He drove me crazy and he was a bit wacky, but he was not evil. Same for my 1st husband and other men that have been in my life. 

I was telling my sister and friend how a married co-worker from out west put the moves on me this last week. I shut him down by physically picking his hand up off my leg and flinging it away. I wondered what it is that I emit that lures in the married man? Do I have some type of Come to Me Married AssClown pheromone? I am serious. 

I think we all face 100% Evil at least once in our lives. I just need to make sure I avoid it next time. Just like I flung that guy's hand off my leg, I will fling liars and cheaters away!

evil |ˈēvəl|adjectiveprofoundly immoral and malevolent : his evil deeds | no man is so evil as tobe beyond redemption.• (of a force or spirit) embodying or associated with the forces of thedevil : we have been driven out of the house by this evil spirit.• harmful or tending to harm : the evil effects of high taxes.• (of something seen or smelled) extremely unpleasant : a bathroomwith an evil smell.

Sexual Napalm

Sulie did some more Internet sleuthing. She posted "Just call me Barnaby Jones" on her Facebook status this morning. For you young-uns, Barnaby Jones was a TV show about a P.I. (played by Buddy Ebsen of Beverly Hillbillies fame.) Sing it with me--"Gonna tell you a story bout a name named Jed, poor mountaineer barely kept his family fed..." What prompted more sleuthing you may ask? Last night we hit Season's 52. Then Fleming's. Then Datz's. Cabbed it the whole night. We met a nice 30ish boy at Fleming's. He got me post several glasses of wine. We verbally sparred about the whole Men are Pigs/Women are Crazy debate. He was a nice boy--forgot his name. it might have been Ethan. Whatever. We discussed stories of liars and cheaters. We laughed really hard. He had great insight on marriage and relationships. I wished aI had a girlfriend in her late 20s/early 30s that is looking. He seemed like one of the nice boys (yes, I do believe they still exist). As he and his friends got ready to go, Ethan said, "Come to Blue Martini if you have the courage!" Sulie and I smiled and waved buh bye. Blue Martini is where all the young tools of Tampa congregate. We drank our way back to my house (skipping the Blue Martini, via a cab and our feet mind you). I don't recall going to bed, but it was one of those times when you wake up at 0400 and go in the bathroom and your hair and makeup is still perfect. I love that shit! I allow myself one night of no makeup removal per quarter. Oral hygiene is nonnegotiable. I chugged some water and realized I was wide awake. I read, responded to some emails, and wrote on the bottom of my foot. Sulie saw the light and got up. We started talking and laughing about the night before. I went into the guest room and laid down on the bed talking to her. Now I was starting to feel tired. I recall telling her to get to the point of a story because I was starting to nod off. A couple of hours later I wake up and she's up. I get my lap top and we start talking about the day. Recall that Sulie aka Barnaby Jones can find anything on the Web. She found a criminal record on one of my neighbors. I said, "hey, look up Spencer!" (guy I dated for several months after divorce). Her fingers fly and she busts out laughing. She turns the computer to me. He got married in June of 2009. I howled with laughter. This is the guy that took me to NYC in December of 2008. In January of 2009 is when I told him we shouldn't see each other anymore. He was a bit too twitchy for me. I recall meeting him for lunch in January and him kissing me and telling me he wanted to do me (after he had told me in NYC that relationships are never meant to last). Ugh. We would exchange cordial emails from time to time. He asked me to several Rays games and I always said no (Penelope just says no to sporting events that bore her to tears, especially when the invitee is a bit wacky).  I knew this one had some frayed wires and that I needed to stay away. I am laughing and recounting to Sulie the timeline of 2009. I did a search in my ical because I know I had met him for lunch in the last few months. In September  (9/11 to be exact) of 2009 we met for lunch. I don't usually put things like that in my calendar unless they are planned in advance. So that MUTHA FUCKA met me for lunch when he was married! I would have noticed a ring. It wasn't a date. It was just lunch. I remember I took a book with me because I got there early. He of course criticized the author (Richard Russo--widely acclaimed, but Spencer used any opportunity to try to make himself feel superior). We talked about houses, work, politics, movies. He insisted on buying the lunch (he always had to feel superior). He hugged me. It was a boob hug (you know what I'm talking about!)

So envision me laughing like a mad woman on my guest room bed. I've decided my role in life is to prepare men for marriage. I am Sexual Napalm (how John Mayer referred to Jessica Simpson). Ladies, let me know if you want a guy to marry you...I can fuck him and he's yours! 

I think about all the googly crap Spencer would say to me. How do you get married 5 months to someone after you've gone on trips with me and had me spend the night at your house over and over? He had a toothbrush and make up remover for me in his master bath. EW! Was he dating her then too or better yet, are they both needy weirdoes that meet and decided to get married in less than 6 months. She is a real estate agent. We looked her up. She looks to be close to his age (51). 

People, I am trying to keep my head up. If I don't laugh I will put my head on this desk and cry.

Rewriting memories

I had a Lynn appointment yesterday. Ironically as I was driving to the appointment I saw Spencer walking a puppy. There he was in his cargo shorts and t-shirt. Thank buddha I was in my company car. The yellow mini sticks out like a sore thumb, but the racing blue Taurus deftly glides past old boyfriends without a second glance! I sent Sulie this email:

Subject: Spencer

Just saw him walking a golden retriever puppy on Beach Drive.

Her reply:

Poor Dog.

It was good though. I looked over at him. I thought for a flash to say "hello" but it was more so I could see the puppy. Heart rate didn't change. I observed his cargo shorts and dumb ass t-shirt with indifference (okay, maybe the "dumb ass" remark gave it some caring). I drove toward my appointment and I thought, "I used to spend a lot of time with that guy. He used to say mean things to me and I would get upset. Now, I feel nothing." Very cool.

I just called to say I hate you

We all know that "hate" is no longer in Little Penelope's vocabulary, BUT, do you have have fleeting moments where you remember something and "I hate____" enters your mind? Maybe you've got a different word or emotion, but what happens to our bodies when we have those flashes of emotion? You guessed it! Just like Lynn (therapist extraordinaire says), you want to Hurry up! Go back! Fix it! But you can't. Your mind doesn't know that. It keeps spinning. You may ask, "Penelope, what pissed you off today?" Let me tell you Dear Readers. I was just packing for a work meeting. I was organizing the outfits to go with the shoes, selecting appropriate foundations, and purse. I thought about Spencer. HA! Got you--you thought it would have been John hate. I really have moved past that. Ok, back to Spencer. Recall he is the only serious BF I've had since the divorce. He has a dork first name and cool middle name, yet chooses to go by dead unsexy dork name. He had that compliment you all day then zero in with the jab technique. He once asked if he could go clothes shopping with me because I had really bad clothes and he wanted to give me some input. Actually, it was more than once. "You're so smart, you're so funny, you're so pretty...you dress really bad and have no sense of style." At first I laughed, then called all my friends and Sulie to analyze (time waster and counter productive). Friends in the virtual world-- I know you have only seen a side view of me and a cartoon, but if there is anything I know to be the TRUE--Penelope knows how to dress. What a tool bag! He is an Ass Clown! How could he say that to me? When we were in NYC, he said "take me to the stores you like". We walked into the temple (yes, Anthropologie). He loudly criticized prices, fashion and pulled out things he knew I owned and ripped them to shreds (verbally). "Old lady clothes" he called them. I know, I know, "Knock, knock?, who's there? Red. Red, who? Red, CRAZY, Mutha Fuckin Flag!" I am feeling a cartoon coming on. One moment while I Google™...

If Spencer were a cartoon, He would look like this:

It is all part of the growing process. I had a flash of bad feelings, I know I can't go back and fix it. Now it's humor. Spencer is an adopted only child. He turned 50 while we dated. He had issues. I told him we needed to stop seeing each other. It wasn't totally smooth, but I know that if my old patterns were still here, I would be saying to myself, "oh but he's smart, cute, he's usually nice..." It's 2010.  Penelope don't play that. Nor should you.

The Dream

I went to bed last night feeling good. I had purged all the memories. I made people laugh. Well,I had the CRAZIEST dream last night.

Sidebar--my guyfriend that lives in the Memphis area (let's call him "24) sent me a message that I should add lesbianism to my blog to "increase my readership."First let me reiterate that my goal is not to get tons of readers--it is to get it all out and to hopefully help others that are earlier in the process. 24 is a funny guy that I used to work with. He is very good looking (and he knows it). His goofiness tempers his good looks. He is married and he and his wife adopted a beautiful little girl from China a few years ago. Well, 24, this post is for you because it is the closest to lesbianism this blog will get to!

This is what 24 would look like if he were a cartoon:

The Dream:

I was at a really long table. Like the kind Henry VIII all fat and goutish would be sitting at the end gnawing on a turkey leg. My dinner companions were all the men I had known (you know what I mean). I decided if I mention a guy from greater than 20 years ago that he gets to keep his own name. This name changing thing is exhausting! Ironically, John was seated directly across from me. In the dream I had a bad headache (and I woke up with one). George was the college boyfriend that gave great neck rubs and could do cool things with acupressure for headaches. I asked him to rub my neck between courses and he obliged. By the way, everyone was the age they were when I dated them.Nice since a couple have not aged so good.Tim (the boyfriend during my new wave stage) had on eyeliner and more hair gunk than any woman (note to readers--never date a man that uses more hair care products than you do). He was from my London Victory Club days. I stopped seeing him when he gave me critical feedback on the foundation I was using at the time. My first husband was there (one moment, calculating...we were divorced in 1998. He earns a code name and it will be: Duke). He is English and one of my friends nicknamed him the Duke of Narcisse. Duke is quite fit.  We were married at the time when my Mom died. We went to England shortly after her death. I took some of her ashes with me and we scattered them at places she would have liked--by The Orient Express since she loved Agatha Christie, New Scotland Yard in London because she loved crime mysteries, Canterbury for the history and outside a really cool pub. For several years Duke would take pictures of the garden at Canterbury where we scattered her ashes. It was really thoughtful. He is now married to an English woman and they still live on St. Pete Beach. You may say, Penelope--why aren't you with Duke anymore? Let's just say we are better friends that spouses. The on again, off again guy that I had known since my Gainesville days was there. He earns a nickname because our history has spanned more that 20 years (he is the guy I rented the condo from). My sister used to refer to him as Dillhole. Dillhole didn't like strawberries. Can you say RED FLAG? Actually, there were many, many more Red Flags with Dillhole that go beyond the scope of this blog. My history with him is a whole other talk show that I don't even want to think about. Jimmy my high school boyfriend was at the table. I remember we had taken my older sister's copy of Our Bodies Ourselves and read everything on birth control. We went to the free clinic on Waldo Road in Gainesville so I could get on the pill. I was so afraid of the pelvic exam.  He asked the nurse if he could hold my hand during the exam. She said no. My blood pressure shot up after a couple of months on the pill and I had to go off. I got a diaphragm. Jimmy's Mom found it (I hid it at his house). She sat us down and explained that his little sister was a diaphragm baby and that she wanted me on a better form of birth control.    Hilarious. I thought she was going to yell at us. Instead we got counseling. He was also a cheater. He married one of my sister's classmates and lives in the area.    I hear he goes by "James" now. You may think there are tons of guys at the table but I have really been a serial monogamist. Spencer was there (from last year--took me to NYC). Thoughts on Spencer:  He was named after his Father and he had a dorky first name and a cool middle name. He chose to go by the dorky name.Weird. He is also is a huge Rays fan.Remember how I said sports mean nothing to me? He has season tickets to the Rays and I spent more time at baseball games than I care to admit. He took me to the first 2 World Series games.    I told him it was like giving a fine cabernet to a white zin drinker. This is all part of knowing what to look for in a mate. No more sports fanatics. I once read a book at a Houston Astros game with John and the boys. A fan got so upset with me. She told me I was a disgrace.I told her I was on a family trip and I was sorry that my quiet existence upset her so much. She was speechless. I am all over the place; back to the dream. It was one of those dreams that seems like it lasted all night.    My therapist and I had talked about dreams and working out resolutions. I woke up a couple of times (with a pounding head) and went back to sleep quickly to get this dream done! It all came to me. John sat there quietly across the table. He watched me get a neck rub, laugh with Jimmy, look at pictures with Duke and interact with all the old boyfriends. I felt nothing towards John. He was just there.

24--Sorry if you expected me to reveal some secret girlfriend! p.s. I had forgotten to program your new cell number and I sent a text to your old number.    I got a reply back from a lovely child that let me know he or she is 13 ("only 13") they said and that they got lots of calls and texts for you. I suggested he or she check with Mom or Dad and see about changing the number.Lord knows what kind of stuff that poor kid is getting that is meant for you!