Today I spoke with all of the men in my love life. Three of whom I will mention - the other three I will not. Woah. 6?! Yikes. Ok three are on other continents but really! I have only slept with 4 of them - does that make it any better?
The Skinny Italian who Broke my Heart is still on my msn list and I am still ridiculously in love with him. He still calls me goupa and sends me besos and asks me when I am coming to live in Barcelona. I told him I will go there in February to try it for a couple of weeks. Maybe I should go when he is not there so I can meet the Latin Lover man without worrying about him turning out to be really embarrassing or something.
I spoke with the Latin Lover Man and gave him a piece of my mind about his ditching me. He said his cousin walked in and he had to go. He is staying with his family in Venezuela at the moment. For some reason I was in an aggressive mood and asked him if he has met any rich women on millionaire match yet. He said he is not there for money - only to find a special girl. I asked if he had yet and he said yes - you! Is it wrong for me to be really cynical about this guy? He has naked photos of his abs with only a fan covering his ben johnson. (A big fan mind you). Obviously he is a little hot under the collar. I think he may be a (cyber) sex addict.
He said he was really hot and horny at that moment. I asked him if this is normal for him. He said it was because of me. I find that really hard to believe as well. (Although if he were a fan of naked shower dances under the blue light of the laptop screen then I would be more inclined to believe him).
I just had a thought though. What is the point in being negative about him or cynical. No harm no foul. He is a nice guy, we have fun on-line together. I would like to meet him to dance the salsa and make the skinny italian who broke my heart jealous while frolicking in the waves in Barcelona. . . If the Latin Lover Man is not serious about me then that is a good thing. I certainly wouldn't want to hurt his feelings.
Anyway. The skinny Italian who broke my heart (I realize I keep capitalizing his name differently - it is because I am at odds with how much of his 'title' deserves to be capitalized and some times I punish him by using all small letters) was speaking with me on msn and told me he loves the new Kanye song - love lockdown. He said he doesn't understand what it means in English so I transcribed it as we listened to it together (awwww). I typed the following:
I'm not lovin you
way I wanted to
I got somethin to lose
so I gotta move
I can't keep myself
and still keep you too
you lose
See I had to go
see i had to move
we're just wastin time
where's the finish line
keep your love locked down - you lose
only God knows
if I'll be with you
baby I'm confused
you choose
I started to sweat as I typed. I chose the words as I heard them - for the first time I listened to the lyrics. It was just what I felt we are doing. Locking the love away because it seems easier. But we lose.
So he said - why is he not loving her the way he wants?
I said - he is stupid
he said - oh ok :-)
I wonder if he got it. Then I said - actually he is afraid.
He changed the subject to tell me he was listening to Lauren Hill sing turn your lights down low and it is one of his favourite songs.
That is a song we sang in the van when I visited him in Barcelona. I am surely reading too much into all of this. He is usually very blunt when he wants to talk about his feelings. He has been very blunt in telling me that he doesn't want a relationship and that he doesn't feel 'a strong passion or a need' to see me. Awesome eh?
So I decided to make all kinds of excuses for him instead of getting the hint. I am so ridiculously in love. Also - not so good at not getting what I want. One of the six I mentioned earlier I have been chasing for three years, and just made it happen this week. I could have had it happen earlier, but not the way I wanted it. Now I just want him for sex. Am I a guy? Let me clarify that 'just want him for sex' part. I want to have sex with him as opposed to anyone else because we are good friends, will never have a conventional relationship, and we care for each other. Less chance of getting hurt than a regular booty call, but more freedom to be emotionally intimate. I know - I am asking for it. Luckily I leave the country every 6 weeks or so so I can't get too attached to anyone. (Ya I know everyone says that is why I am single . . . blah blah blah - I say - keep up with me, or give me a reason to stay still!)
Today after we (the skinny italian who broke my heart and I) spoke I felt so happy. Even though nothing transpired except his little pet names for me. He said WE should learn Spanish (before I told him I just wanted to be friends WE were learning Italian - meaning he was teaching me). I told him I have two friends here who are teaching me Spanish. One in Toronto (my awesome friend Pedro) and one in Venezuela (My Latin Lover Man of course) I should have said he was from Spain. I was tentatively dropping the hint and showing that I don't need him anymore.
I wish he was jealous.
I need to go back to what I learned during my month without men . . . the magic words that work with every guy. Ok. Cool. Those of you reading that blog haven't gotten to that part yet, but you will. I am seriously not together enough with this guy to use those words. When could I have used them??? hmmm. Everytime he has hurt my feelings I guess. Instead I have chosen to tell him he is wrong when he says he doesn't feel a passion to see me. I am certifiable - honestly.
The good news in all of this though is that at least I know why I like him so much. I saw some old photos of my Dad (he and I have been going through his personal papers) and there is something in his face that instantly reminded me of -- woops - I almost typed his name in here . . . tut tut tut - the Skinny Italian who broke my heart. I love him because I love my father. His body language reminds me of my father's body language. My father loved Al Pacino and emulated his body language. Al Pacino is Italian. All Italians emulate Al Pacino. done.
I can now move on with my life.
There is one more major conclusion I had after speaking with him that trumps everything though. I decided that feeling happy after I spoke with him was worth all of it. All of the obsessing and dreaming and worrying and stalking. (He totally busted me stalking him on facebook). Nothing beats that high, and even if it is all make-believe, and if coming down will hurt more than anything I would much rather take the ride. I may never have the chance again.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Latin Lover-Man
I have been getting to know the Latin Man whom I will be using to make the Skinny Italian who Broke My Heart jealous. Apparently on the dating site that we met on (Millionaire Match) I had posted a blog that made a brief mention of cyber sex. It had said something like OK, cyber sex aside, has anyone found that they have any ligitimate chemistry with anyone on line? So he came on msn asking me if I have cyber sex, and what is it like. I am pretty sure he is full of shit, and that he has had many different types of sex but I thought what the hell. So he asked me if we could try it, and it just so happened that I needed to have a shower so I invited him to join me.
I got everything all set up in the shower - luckily my shower is big so the camera wouldn't get wet, and I can see through the glass to the computer to set up the shot. I was a little nervous about him seeing me naked for the first time so I turned the light off. The light from the computer cast a beautiful blue glow on my skin and it was really pretty. I was enjoying the artistic display, moving around in a beautiful, naked dance, but he wrote: Is Dark. I want see your pussy open. Do you have toy?
So much for artistic expression. He put the camera on his self pleasuring but that really didn't do much for me. I can't think of how I would actually get off on watching him. Maybe if I could see his face it would be better? He can't really type anything except for oooo yaaaaa I suppose I could tell him to type in spanish . . .
Now this is becoming a bit of a regular thing. At least it was for two days in a row. He says he likes me AND my pussy so that makes me feel really really special.
There are some bad parts to this - besides the fact that I am basically putting on a show for him (which I am sure will end up on his website or something and I will see no royalites what so ever), is that he takes off right after. He says something like I can't wait to see you in person and then signs off and dissapears. Sort of like the guy who jumps in the shower and takes off in real life and says "I'll call you." Jeeze even my on-line relationships are dysfunctional!
I guess that is what you get when you use someone for the purpose of making someone else jealous. They use you right back.
I got everything all set up in the shower - luckily my shower is big so the camera wouldn't get wet, and I can see through the glass to the computer to set up the shot. I was a little nervous about him seeing me naked for the first time so I turned the light off. The light from the computer cast a beautiful blue glow on my skin and it was really pretty. I was enjoying the artistic display, moving around in a beautiful, naked dance, but he wrote: Is Dark. I want see your pussy open. Do you have toy?
So much for artistic expression. He put the camera on his self pleasuring but that really didn't do much for me. I can't think of how I would actually get off on watching him. Maybe if I could see his face it would be better? He can't really type anything except for oooo yaaaaa I suppose I could tell him to type in spanish . . .
Now this is becoming a bit of a regular thing. At least it was for two days in a row. He says he likes me AND my pussy so that makes me feel really really special.
There are some bad parts to this - besides the fact that I am basically putting on a show for him (which I am sure will end up on his website or something and I will see no royalites what so ever), is that he takes off right after. He says something like I can't wait to see you in person and then signs off and dissapears. Sort of like the guy who jumps in the shower and takes off in real life and says "I'll call you." Jeeze even my on-line relationships are dysfunctional!
I guess that is what you get when you use someone for the purpose of making someone else jealous. They use you right back.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Regrets
For some reason I woke up this morning feeling as though I had some regrets. Perhaps it was initiated by the dream I was having. I was being approached by a salesman to sell bags to teen aged girls. Wait a minute, I asked him, "did you say bags? I have an idea for bags." I actually do have a bag I have designed in real life that I would like to see sold. Then my Mom showed up and started giving the guy a hard time. He insisted we meet his boss. I went into the board room and tried to sit in a power seat, but all of the empty seats were suddenly filled with wives and children for these men (one seat just had a pair of eyes in it). Clearly that was about all of the men I meet who have women in their lives. I ended up sitting at the end of the table in the corner (not a power seat at all) and the woman beside me started to spread some nasty cheese spread on a cracker and then put icing on top. It was my understanding that this was actually what they wanted me to sell, and I got excited because I knew something that would help them to not be so fat and unhealthy (the women were all over weight and the men were all in great shape). I have learned so much about diet from the anti-cancer book I have been reading and would love to promote products that are good for you. I was really looking forward to finding out what was going to happen (what are the distribution channels for these bags, and this sandwich meat sitting in front of me), but then Pam banged on the window of my room and woke me up. I ignored her, but couldn't get back to the dream.
So I started thinking about business, and how much I love it. In the dream the sales man was telling me not to throw it all away. That I really had something here. I think I know that I really have something here. I just don't understand why I don't want to do it anymore. Is it because life to me is about more than just success and that I want to be really fulfilled in my career? OR is it just the disappointment for not having achieved all I wanted to in that business that makes me want to walk away. Let's be honest. I lost my love for the industry a couple of years ago. I have had one foot out the door for some time now.
The only thing that would keep me in the business is a fear of not being able to find or start anything as 'great' in the future. I know I will, and I won't make my decisions based on fear. Love only.
Yesterday I was cleaning out my room and finally found the tape of my last psychic reading. I had asked her about relationships and marriage. She said that she saw me married in the next two or three years with another house in Toronto. She said that all of the stuff I have been going through is just karma. What the hell did I do to deserve this? Perhaps I was a man castrator in medieval times? She said that my life is just beginning. That certainly feels true. I am just getting started. The biggest thing she said is that I have to know exactly what I want before I go into any negotiations regarding selling my business or getting another job or whatever.
She also said that my business is rock solid -- considering I am going bankrupt . . . perhaps I should discard everything else as well. . . but that also got me thinking. My business WAS rock solid. I could have saved it. I chose not to and let it go. I don't regret that now. I hope I never do. In the meantime I am back to writing again.
So what are my regrets then? I don't usually think about regrets because I feel that everything happens according to divine timing. I try to keep trust that God will let me know where and when as long as I listen to my intuition. Right now my intuition is telling me to go back to sleep.
So I started thinking about business, and how much I love it. In the dream the sales man was telling me not to throw it all away. That I really had something here. I think I know that I really have something here. I just don't understand why I don't want to do it anymore. Is it because life to me is about more than just success and that I want to be really fulfilled in my career? OR is it just the disappointment for not having achieved all I wanted to in that business that makes me want to walk away. Let's be honest. I lost my love for the industry a couple of years ago. I have had one foot out the door for some time now.
The only thing that would keep me in the business is a fear of not being able to find or start anything as 'great' in the future. I know I will, and I won't make my decisions based on fear. Love only.
Yesterday I was cleaning out my room and finally found the tape of my last psychic reading. I had asked her about relationships and marriage. She said that she saw me married in the next two or three years with another house in Toronto. She said that all of the stuff I have been going through is just karma. What the hell did I do to deserve this? Perhaps I was a man castrator in medieval times? She said that my life is just beginning. That certainly feels true. I am just getting started. The biggest thing she said is that I have to know exactly what I want before I go into any negotiations regarding selling my business or getting another job or whatever.
She also said that my business is rock solid -- considering I am going bankrupt . . . perhaps I should discard everything else as well. . . but that also got me thinking. My business WAS rock solid. I could have saved it. I chose not to and let it go. I don't regret that now. I hope I never do. In the meantime I am back to writing again.
So what are my regrets then? I don't usually think about regrets because I feel that everything happens according to divine timing. I try to keep trust that God will let me know where and when as long as I listen to my intuition. Right now my intuition is telling me to go back to sleep.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Letting Go
After the drama of yesterday I am happy to say today was a great day.
My Mom showed up this morning to pick me up and take me to her place so she could save me from myself. I didn't go with her, but when she got here I started to pack which was great because I was having a hard time getting motivated. Even though it is childish I still feel like I need her to prove to me that I am a priority every once and awhile.
After she left a friend came over. He is a fellow writer and I feel very comfortable being creative with him. We discussed some creative things, and we laughed a lot. Laughter is so healing!
I was thinking yesterday in the depths of my despair that the times in my life when I am most creative are those times when I am also the most depressed. I turn to my creative outlets to relieve my pain. Maybe one of the reasons why all of this is happening at once is in order to be a catalyst for my 'art.' If that is the case then I am ok with the suffering.
Thank you so much God for the gift of this outlet. I have been looking forward to blogging all day. Now that I am here I don't have much to say, but I'm ok with that too.
My Mom showed up this morning to pick me up and take me to her place so she could save me from myself. I didn't go with her, but when she got here I started to pack which was great because I was having a hard time getting motivated. Even though it is childish I still feel like I need her to prove to me that I am a priority every once and awhile.
After she left a friend came over. He is a fellow writer and I feel very comfortable being creative with him. We discussed some creative things, and we laughed a lot. Laughter is so healing!
I was thinking yesterday in the depths of my despair that the times in my life when I am most creative are those times when I am also the most depressed. I turn to my creative outlets to relieve my pain. Maybe one of the reasons why all of this is happening at once is in order to be a catalyst for my 'art.' If that is the case then I am ok with the suffering.
Thank you so much God for the gift of this outlet. I have been looking forward to blogging all day. Now that I am here I don't have much to say, but I'm ok with that too.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Break-It-Down
Today I had one of those days.
I have only had these days a few times in my life. I have always had a tendency to be dramatic, but for many years now I have been able to laugh off my inclinations to make a scene. Today was different.
I am in a pretty major grieving process right now. Planning to move to Europe, let go of my business for the most part, leaving my house (not so important, but moving and selling your furniture involves letting go), and, oh ya, my Dad is dying.
Today he has an appointment to asses if he should now have chemo after two surgeries, and two bouts of radiation. Luckily the doctors at Princess Margaret Hospital in Toronto are incredible and want him to have as much quality of life as possible. Before I went on my last trip (14 days in the UK - been home for 4), I asked the doctor how long he has to live. It has taken me a few months to get up the courage to ask that question. They told me he has months, not years.
My Dad had not asked the question, but when I came back from the UK he started to tell me that he found another lump on his neck and was trying to break it to me gently that this may be worse than we thought. I feel like I have been a bit ahead of him in terms of accepting what is coming. I can't imagine what it must be like for him. He said to me then that he knows he is dying, it is just a matter of when.
I told him then that I had asked the question he wanted to know. The 'how long do I have to live' question. He said he was ready to hear the answer, but we were in the hospital lobby and it wasn't an appropriate time for the conversation. That was on Friday.
Today we had the conversation while waiting for the doctor to come and see us. He said he was feeling a bit depressed and really wanted to know so I told him just what they told me. He said well if we are only thinking short term then what is the point of having chemo at all.
My response was - well it is up to you what you want to invest your energy into. Up until now you have been putting your faith in the medical system and it has taken you this far. If you decide you will live another 6 years on an anti-cancer diet then you will. If you decide you will live till spring so be it. It is just up to you if you want to live in this body with this pain.
So all that was challenging. I asked the doctor while I was there if he thought the mark on my face was skin cancer (I have a spot on my face that has been there a while) and he referred me to a dermatologist. I wanted him to refer me to a psychologist cause today was a bad day.
After my Dad left I went into the chapel in the hospital. I really wanted to crawl under a chair and cry there for a long time. The chapel is open 24 hours (if I am ever homeless I will know where to go - I bet every hospital has one!). The Muslims kept coming in to do their sunset prayers though so it was hard to blubber as I wanted to. I sat there for about an hour and cried into my kleenex - then I left and came home.
At home I sent some emails for work and then cried some more. Then I had a peanut butter sandwich. Then my tenant downstairs pushed me over the edge of sanity into a near nervous breakdown state, and the day officially became bad.
Pam is a 72 year old actress. She was a hippy in the 60's and was experimented on by psychiatrists with LSD. She is a huge pain in the ass. She invited me downstairs for dinner and gave me half of a rent cheque. Then she proceeded to go on about all of the things that are unsafe about the house. Then she asked me 'what do you think you have learned from this situation' and do you think you will ever purchase a home again. I told her I wasn't interested in discussing that and that I am capable of judging myself enough for this situation and don't need to go over it again with her. Then I said thank you for the food, got up from the table and started to scream, threw the rent cheque on the floor, slammed the door open, screamed in the back yard, slammed the upstairs door open, then slammed it shut and went to the third floor where I lay down on the floor and cried. Luckily I live in Parkdale and this is acceptable behaviour for this neighbourhood so the police did not come.
Then I called my Mom and told her that it is unacceptable that she is not calling me or coming to help me because I can not do this on my own. I am overwhelmed. I felt that I couldn't get up off the floor. She was telling me about how everyone is depending on her for her business because she is the only licensed driver. That they have to get these jobs done before the weather sets in, that they need to finish them to get paid, blah blah blah. I said that I don't think they have learned anything. My step father has had 3 or 4 heart attacks in the past year. My Dad is reaching for every moment he can have with me because he doesn't have many moments left. Yet my Mom's priority is still money. I really believe this society is sick. I believe that the cancer and heart attack epidemics come from a lack of joy and love and family and laughter. So I lay on the floor covered in tears and snot judging my Mom for not having the right priorities and being happy.
I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. I'm ok. I have faith that this is about making room in my life for more love. I will not spend the rest of my life in the pursuit of something that will not love me back. And I will do my best not to judge my Mom or anyone else for their priorities.
I am off the floor now and writing on my computer. It is the first thing I thought of to do when I got my wits about me. Thank God for my computer and my invisible audience.
So my nervous breakdown was just a little one. I apologized to Pam even though I am still angry with her and her condescension. It is not worth my energy though. I am not going to change her. Now she has another story for her wine o monologues.
On the plus side - after breaking up with Stefano (who will now be referred to as 'the skinny Italian who broke my heart') I decided to start getting serious about finding a husband and go all out on-line. I have smiled at, poked, winked at and messaged about 70 guys in the last four days. One quickly responded from a site called millionairematch.com . He is 32 from Venezuela and currently living in Spain.
His profile reads as follows: i am very sesitive man, i like very mouch dance salsa.
He sounds like the perfect man for me.
He barely speaks English, lives in Spain where he teaches Salsa full time, umm and he has several photos of himself on facebook with no shirt on, in some of them he is exiting the water and covered in little drops, in one of them he has a fan in front of his penis. He has offered to help me get settled in Barcelona, did I mention that I have decided to move there now that the skinny Italian who broke my heart is no longer in the picture? Ok - so he is still in the picture, but now the picture looks like this:
I go to Barcelona in February to start looking for an apartment and to meet some more people in the dance community. My new Latin lover comes to 'help me get settled' and I bring him out to meet the skinny Italian who broke my heart (who is still my friend) and his posse at the beach or some other place where my new Latin lover can take off most of his clothing. The skinny Italian becomes jealous. I have Latin love.
My Latin lover (who's name ends in the letter O not by coincidence I am guessing) and I spoke on msn last night with a webcam. He had no shirt on. He confessed that he is not rich but is looking for a woman with whom he can start a family. I don't know if I want to have his children, but we can certainly practice making some. . .
Now those with whom I have been friends for some time would warn me against this situation as it is not the first time I have fallen for a man with much meat and little else. I once dated a Cuban man who's naked photos are somewhere on the Internet (they should be on a greeting card). He would say things to me like 'Iiii am a shark and jou are a but-ter-fly and ve can nevah have a relationship. The shark will destroy the butterfly.' He would say this as he attempted to escape from my apartment while I crawled after him begging for round three. Yes it was pathetic. Thank goodness he went back to his girlfriend. It would never have worked out. He shoveled pigs in a meat freezer for God's sake, (but I may have married him anyway) this is why I can never go to Cuba (or Jamaica, or Brazil . . .)
My Latin lover is looking for a sugar mama and I am looking to make the skinny Italian who broke my heart jealous. I am also looking for a distraction from the heaviness of my life at the moment. So I will continue to poke, flirt, smile and IM for the time being. . . . and practice my Salsa.
I have only had these days a few times in my life. I have always had a tendency to be dramatic, but for many years now I have been able to laugh off my inclinations to make a scene. Today was different.
I am in a pretty major grieving process right now. Planning to move to Europe, let go of my business for the most part, leaving my house (not so important, but moving and selling your furniture involves letting go), and, oh ya, my Dad is dying.
Today he has an appointment to asses if he should now have chemo after two surgeries, and two bouts of radiation. Luckily the doctors at Princess Margaret Hospital in Toronto are incredible and want him to have as much quality of life as possible. Before I went on my last trip (14 days in the UK - been home for 4), I asked the doctor how long he has to live. It has taken me a few months to get up the courage to ask that question. They told me he has months, not years.
My Dad had not asked the question, but when I came back from the UK he started to tell me that he found another lump on his neck and was trying to break it to me gently that this may be worse than we thought. I feel like I have been a bit ahead of him in terms of accepting what is coming. I can't imagine what it must be like for him. He said to me then that he knows he is dying, it is just a matter of when.
I told him then that I had asked the question he wanted to know. The 'how long do I have to live' question. He said he was ready to hear the answer, but we were in the hospital lobby and it wasn't an appropriate time for the conversation. That was on Friday.
Today we had the conversation while waiting for the doctor to come and see us. He said he was feeling a bit depressed and really wanted to know so I told him just what they told me. He said well if we are only thinking short term then what is the point of having chemo at all.
My response was - well it is up to you what you want to invest your energy into. Up until now you have been putting your faith in the medical system and it has taken you this far. If you decide you will live another 6 years on an anti-cancer diet then you will. If you decide you will live till spring so be it. It is just up to you if you want to live in this body with this pain.
So all that was challenging. I asked the doctor while I was there if he thought the mark on my face was skin cancer (I have a spot on my face that has been there a while) and he referred me to a dermatologist. I wanted him to refer me to a psychologist cause today was a bad day.
After my Dad left I went into the chapel in the hospital. I really wanted to crawl under a chair and cry there for a long time. The chapel is open 24 hours (if I am ever homeless I will know where to go - I bet every hospital has one!). The Muslims kept coming in to do their sunset prayers though so it was hard to blubber as I wanted to. I sat there for about an hour and cried into my kleenex - then I left and came home.
At home I sent some emails for work and then cried some more. Then I had a peanut butter sandwich. Then my tenant downstairs pushed me over the edge of sanity into a near nervous breakdown state, and the day officially became bad.
Pam is a 72 year old actress. She was a hippy in the 60's and was experimented on by psychiatrists with LSD. She is a huge pain in the ass. She invited me downstairs for dinner and gave me half of a rent cheque. Then she proceeded to go on about all of the things that are unsafe about the house. Then she asked me 'what do you think you have learned from this situation' and do you think you will ever purchase a home again. I told her I wasn't interested in discussing that and that I am capable of judging myself enough for this situation and don't need to go over it again with her. Then I said thank you for the food, got up from the table and started to scream, threw the rent cheque on the floor, slammed the door open, screamed in the back yard, slammed the upstairs door open, then slammed it shut and went to the third floor where I lay down on the floor and cried. Luckily I live in Parkdale and this is acceptable behaviour for this neighbourhood so the police did not come.
Then I called my Mom and told her that it is unacceptable that she is not calling me or coming to help me because I can not do this on my own. I am overwhelmed. I felt that I couldn't get up off the floor. She was telling me about how everyone is depending on her for her business because she is the only licensed driver. That they have to get these jobs done before the weather sets in, that they need to finish them to get paid, blah blah blah. I said that I don't think they have learned anything. My step father has had 3 or 4 heart attacks in the past year. My Dad is reaching for every moment he can have with me because he doesn't have many moments left. Yet my Mom's priority is still money. I really believe this society is sick. I believe that the cancer and heart attack epidemics come from a lack of joy and love and family and laughter. So I lay on the floor covered in tears and snot judging my Mom for not having the right priorities and being happy.
I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. I'm ok. I have faith that this is about making room in my life for more love. I will not spend the rest of my life in the pursuit of something that will not love me back. And I will do my best not to judge my Mom or anyone else for their priorities.
I am off the floor now and writing on my computer. It is the first thing I thought of to do when I got my wits about me. Thank God for my computer and my invisible audience.
So my nervous breakdown was just a little one. I apologized to Pam even though I am still angry with her and her condescension. It is not worth my energy though. I am not going to change her. Now she has another story for her wine o monologues.
On the plus side - after breaking up with Stefano (who will now be referred to as 'the skinny Italian who broke my heart') I decided to start getting serious about finding a husband and go all out on-line. I have smiled at, poked, winked at and messaged about 70 guys in the last four days. One quickly responded from a site called millionairematch.com . He is 32 from Venezuela and currently living in Spain.
His profile reads as follows: i am very sesitive man, i like very mouch dance salsa.
He sounds like the perfect man for me.
He barely speaks English, lives in Spain where he teaches Salsa full time, umm and he has several photos of himself on facebook with no shirt on, in some of them he is exiting the water and covered in little drops, in one of them he has a fan in front of his penis. He has offered to help me get settled in Barcelona, did I mention that I have decided to move there now that the skinny Italian who broke my heart is no longer in the picture? Ok - so he is still in the picture, but now the picture looks like this:
I go to Barcelona in February to start looking for an apartment and to meet some more people in the dance community. My new Latin lover comes to 'help me get settled' and I bring him out to meet the skinny Italian who broke my heart (who is still my friend) and his posse at the beach or some other place where my new Latin lover can take off most of his clothing. The skinny Italian becomes jealous. I have Latin love.
My Latin lover (who's name ends in the letter O not by coincidence I am guessing) and I spoke on msn last night with a webcam. He had no shirt on. He confessed that he is not rich but is looking for a woman with whom he can start a family. I don't know if I want to have his children, but we can certainly practice making some. . .
Now those with whom I have been friends for some time would warn me against this situation as it is not the first time I have fallen for a man with much meat and little else. I once dated a Cuban man who's naked photos are somewhere on the Internet (they should be on a greeting card). He would say things to me like 'Iiii am a shark and jou are a but-ter-fly and ve can nevah have a relationship. The shark will destroy the butterfly.' He would say this as he attempted to escape from my apartment while I crawled after him begging for round three. Yes it was pathetic. Thank goodness he went back to his girlfriend. It would never have worked out. He shoveled pigs in a meat freezer for God's sake, (but I may have married him anyway) this is why I can never go to Cuba (or Jamaica, or Brazil . . .)
My Latin lover is looking for a sugar mama and I am looking to make the skinny Italian who broke my heart jealous. I am also looking for a distraction from the heaviness of my life at the moment. So I will continue to poke, flirt, smile and IM for the time being. . . . and practice my Salsa.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
To dream
In celebration of my first blog (well not my first really, but my first un-edited one) I had a bowl of soup, some apple juice, about 25 olives and some dark chocolate (80% cacao) from Peru. This is my idea of cooking. It is also all I could afford at the moment when I decided to stop at the grocery store. I have been living only on cash for the past 2.5 months - ever since I decided to declare bankruptcy. Not that I don't have money now - in fact, I have more money now than I ever have! I just only had $10 in cash when I went to the store. It is amazing how long your money will stick around if you don't have constant access to it. Not using debit or credit cards has curbed my spending enormously. Also - the stress and shame of declaring bankruptcy has me doing a very good job of managing my money. Let me clarify though that I don't think the bankruptcy is the stressful or shameful part. It was the part leading up to deciding to declare that was stressful and shameful. Now I feel an enormous load off, and a tremendous sense of completion.
I suppose you are wondering how I got to this point. Or, if you aren't you are busy assuming that I ran up my credit cards and couldn't afford to pay them off. It is much more exciting than that I promise. It involves taking pretty decent sized business risks by manufacturing in China and diversifying my business to involve real estate when I didn't have the cash flow to support that kind of expansion.
The money management system I am using is amazing. I always feel like there is so much. There is money for everything. The hard part is being disciplined enough to stick to it. Here is what I do: 40% necessities, 10% debt repayment(event though I have declared there are still people I would like to some day pay back), 10% fun, 10% financial freedom (towards things that will create passive income for me), 5% personal grooming and clothing (a girl needs money for shoes), 5% giving, 10% long term savings, 10% towards future business. I use only cash and don't spend the money unless I have it.
This is really not what I had intended to write about today. I do hope you will forgive me for using this space as a platform for some verbal diarrhea from time to time. So much of the rest of my life is censored - I really just need a place to let go (but want to do it in the public sphere for some odd reason). I journal - have been for years, but this is different. I am really looking forward to telling you my stories. I am happy that it is anonymous - not because I want to bash people, but because I don't want to put myself at risk for being bashed, AND mainly - I don't want anything I say to hurt anyone I love.
When I was about 15 I read my father's journal and it really hurt my feelings. We write what we feel in the moment. Not necessarily what we will continue to feel.
I just had a huge sneeze - best I have ever had! It must be the chocolate! Did you know that the chemical that is released in your body when you eat chocolate is the same one released when you have an orgasm? It is also the same chemical released when breast feeding, and when you sneeze. I always sneeze when I am horny. I also always have to take a shit when I go into a book store. Just thought I would throw that in there. I am going to have another square of chocolate.
I am going to go and explore this site now. Be well!
I suppose you are wondering how I got to this point. Or, if you aren't you are busy assuming that I ran up my credit cards and couldn't afford to pay them off. It is much more exciting than that I promise. It involves taking pretty decent sized business risks by manufacturing in China and diversifying my business to involve real estate when I didn't have the cash flow to support that kind of expansion.
The money management system I am using is amazing. I always feel like there is so much. There is money for everything. The hard part is being disciplined enough to stick to it. Here is what I do: 40% necessities, 10% debt repayment(event though I have declared there are still people I would like to some day pay back), 10% fun, 10% financial freedom (towards things that will create passive income for me), 5% personal grooming and clothing (a girl needs money for shoes), 5% giving, 10% long term savings, 10% towards future business. I use only cash and don't spend the money unless I have it.
This is really not what I had intended to write about today. I do hope you will forgive me for using this space as a platform for some verbal diarrhea from time to time. So much of the rest of my life is censored - I really just need a place to let go (but want to do it in the public sphere for some odd reason). I journal - have been for years, but this is different. I am really looking forward to telling you my stories. I am happy that it is anonymous - not because I want to bash people, but because I don't want to put myself at risk for being bashed, AND mainly - I don't want anything I say to hurt anyone I love.
When I was about 15 I read my father's journal and it really hurt my feelings. We write what we feel in the moment. Not necessarily what we will continue to feel.
I just had a huge sneeze - best I have ever had! It must be the chocolate! Did you know that the chemical that is released in your body when you eat chocolate is the same one released when you have an orgasm? It is also the same chemical released when breast feeding, and when you sneeze. I always sneeze when I am horny. I also always have to take a shit when I go into a book store. Just thought I would throw that in there. I am going to have another square of chocolate.
I am going to go and explore this site now. Be well!
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