Laughing Chopsticks II

hmm, not too bad...

2010-01-07T20:54:00.003-05:00

Sometimes things just happen, no rhyme or reason, it just...happens...

Something like that has happened to me. No, no new man, no windfall of money (I wish)...maybe it was just a choice I made.

I'm happy.

It has been awhile...

2009-12-13T11:51:00.003-05:00

Whoever thought I would end up in Houston...

To think about the 'how's' and 'why's' of what brought me here is exhausting...if I keep writing as I would like, it will leak out eventually.

For now, I need to write. Not explain, just write.

I don't want to be in simple existance anymore, I want to live. I'm not sure how. I feel trapped in my own mind. Doing what needs doing...going where I need to go. Acutal living? Pfft, what's that?

When I was married, I felt trapped. I'm no longer married and the feeling is still there.

Relationships shouldn't have to be so hard. Ups and downs, sure...but love. I've experienced a rare couple of times this love.

I'm heartbroken. I don't want to be a slow learner, but I can't seem to let go.

Lies, lies, lies, lies...and did I mention the lies? I don't think I've ever hated someone as equally loved them. It's madness. It's unhealthy.

And if by chance anyone reads this that are friends with me, please keep your advice to yourself. I know how you feel...you've told me over and over till you make me want to puke.

That's a lot of words your saying there, but they don't mean much

2009-04-01T13:20:00.002-04:00

I just heard that and love it.

Are you an asshole? No, wait, I spoke with all of them today

2009-03-31T18:55:00.004-04:00

Not really of course, just two. Slumlord Landlord and my ex husband.

Ex sent me a text last night asking me if I would be back in Indiana today and if I was going to be, would I be picking Steve up after school. He needed to know so he could tell his Dad not to pick him up. I said yes to both.

What do I see when I pull up to the house? His dad sitting in the driveway. The bus is down the block, I see Steve walking. I'm on my cell calling the ex. He said "oh shit, I forgot....well, you just talk to him and tell him"...I said, "jesus christ just call him and tell him now" and he tells me this through clenched teeth, I've heard the clenched teeth before, "Okay Michelle, I have nothing better to do than fucking kiss your ass, so I'll call him."

I think I went from 0 to 60 and as calmly as I could muster said, "I'm not asking you to kiss my ass I'm asking you to do what you said you would do last night"

He hung up.

So Steve is almost to the driveway and I step out and say "Ex said he forgot"....Ex's dad just smiles and gives a wave and an ok.

Ex calls me back and tells me that his Dad doesn't have his cell phone with him to call. I told him it was alright, I took care of it.

I don't want to have to speak with his parents. The last time I had to be around my ex FIL, he would not look at me, not acknowledge me in any way, shape or form. So no, I do not want to have to speak with him if I don't have to.

Steve gets into the car, and we head off to get his haircut. He has Spring pics tomorrow:D. When we are leaving, I say "let's go see Lisa and Mason!" She used to live near us and Mason and Steve were best buddies for one summer.

We're having some small talk about me moving and I tell him that I need to speak with his father about all of this because we hadn't really spoken. Then I add, "except for the texts last night about me picking him up today and how I wish he hadn't forgot to tell your grandpa because it was a wasted trip for him". Steve replied with "oh, he talked to Grandpa last night. He told Grandpa that you (meaning ME) might not show up so Grandpa said he'd be there just in case."

What the fuck?!!! I don't tell my kids I'll be there and not be!!!

The hell!!! He just wants to make me look bad to his dad???

Jerky McJerkface Motherfucker anyway.

pfft.

Landlord Slumlord

2009-03-31T14:41:00.002-04:00

When I started renting from my landlord back in July, I thought 'wow, he's nice!' because I started renting in mid-July, so he only charged me for half a month's rent. In August, I paid my rent mid-month without even thinking about it. On the 10th of September, I remember because I was in Manhattan, he called me. 'Michelle, we need to talk about your rent.' I was all 'what? I'm in Manhattan, I'll be back late the 12th so I'll be paying you on the 13th after class'. I followed this with '...I paid mid-month last month because of the previous month'. He countered with 'There is a $3 fee for everyday that you pay late past the first.'.........ahhhh, I get it now. Jerk.

So today I went in and paid half a month's rent. The little girl who took my money went to the back to get him because I had lost his phone number (if I'd known he was back there to begin with, I would have just asked to speak with him directly).

Annnnyway, he comes up and looks at the receipt his secretary has made for me and looks at me and says, "well Michelle, I can't accept this because the state law in Indiana requires landlords to have 30 days notice"....I said "With all due respect sir, the agreement we had between us has all been verbal. You can't just tell me now and expect me to pay up. One can't squeeze blood out of a turnip. (yes, I actually said that) You have my deposit. Can you not use half of it?" He said, "it all depends on how much I have to pay for cleaning".....I told him I'd take care of it. Then I asked him when I could expect my deposit money. He said probably the next day.

What I'm leaving out is the sighing he gave before he even opened his mouth. The little noice he made with his tongue after he said "well Michelle". And not to mention the look that flashed across his face when I said "all been verbal".

I suppose if I wanted to be a big enough bitch I could get my whole deposit, or try to at the very least. But I'm finished playing that stupid fucking game people try to play. If it was big (like thousands of dollars big) I'd persue. But it's not. I flat out don't have the energy to spare on douchbags like him who want to play the rules card when it's to their favor. Hell, this place sat empty for a year before I came along.

Greed just does things to people I guess.

Heh, my face is still hot and flushed. But hey! I didn't yell or get all crazied-eyed or anything. Yes, I too am surprised.

And with my telekinetic powers, I will move this heart...

2009-03-27T07:42:00.007-04:00

I've been lying here thinking of what I'm going to do today and then I smell toast. Either from a number of little deli's that surround me or a random neighbor.

So my mind trails and I think of how good baking pie smells when you walk in from the cold. Cakes or cookies smell fabu, too. I'm thinking of Thanksgiving, I guess.

I miss little feet. Not the smell, jeje, but the sound. It's funny how one doesn't notice things until they are blindingly not there.

Before I was thinking about toast, I was thinking I need to make a plan. It doesn't appear that I'll be working here in NY, so that means I'll be moving South. I've a dear friend that is willing to allow me to stay with her, paying rent of course (but nowhere near what I'm paying now), and finding a job in her area.

Most of my childhood was spent being raised in the south, so I won't be completely shell-shocked;-)

This time last year, I was making plans to go to Japan and dealing with a messy divorce. The year before that, I was toying with the idea of returning to school.

Will I ever be unpacked? Since I was 16 years old, I have never been fully unpacked (btw, I'm 37 going on 38).

When I was 16, my parents moved from KY back to Indiana. We lived with Grandpa, then with Grandma, then I basically left home. Drifting from one friend to the next, even through marriage, my things, my special things, have remained in a box. To type that out, now that it's not a random thought swirling around in my head, seems kinda pathetic.

I know I'm not alone though. I can't be. The sheer amount of people on the planet, statistically speaking, tells me I can't be alone.

My Plan A failed. You know, family, husband, home, college...that plan. Now I need to work on Plan B and get my shit together. The thought of having to start over in life scares the hell out of me, but at the same time, not knowing anything is even worse and I'd rather have some kind of goal to be working toward than to be wandering aimlessly. Where there's a will, there's a way, right?

And my apologies for this and my last post for being Debbie Downers. My thoughts tend to be a bit ADD as far as subject, but pretty much remain theme focused at least.

And it still hurts

2009-03-24T22:06:00.004-04:00

I should add a link to the sidebar, or something, I don't know, from my old blog. Then, those of you who have no idea that when I have a meltdown, you could have some kind of reference.

I just watched the movie Changeling. Have you seen it yet? I loved it, really. But if you haven't seen your child in three weeks.....if you have lost a child to death.....then if you have not seen that movie yet, perhaps you should see it with a close friend. See it with someone that you trust. See it with someone that if you start flipping the fuck out with, they will still love you.

That movie strikes such a chord with me. While watching it, that police officer reminded me of my ex. You know, the one who was saying "that is your son, it's just been awhile". The doctor that was observing her "you seem confused, were they lying or were you?" reminded me of my ex husband. And who is my child with now? My ex-husband.

I hate it. I hate every minute of it. Yes, I speak with him everyday. Yes, I see him on the webcam when I can. I live in a town that has NO jobs. What am I supposed to do? Become one of those welfare Mom's? Now, let me get something straight. I am not opposed to government help. But come on. If you knew where I lived, there are no jobs to be had. I hate my ex for that.

Not that it is his fault that the economy is in such a mess, it's just that I'm pissed and I have to have someone to blame. Really, I should blame myself. I didn't have to sign the papers that I did, but I did. He's an ass to the nth degree.....I just was tired of playing his game and did what I had to do to get out. And that.......that is why I hate him so.

I don't know what to do. Wait for a job that may or may not show up? I went today.......again...because I have applied for a job to be a flight attendant for N0rth Americ@n Airlines and they do charter flights, not everyday flights.

I'm in debt up to my eyeballs.

Soooo...I'm in NY staying with my boyfriend thinking I'm good enough to get a job here, speaking with my little guy everynight.

I'm almost broke. I don't know what to do. I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm scared.

Really what happened was...

2009-03-24T12:34:00.002-04:00

I was standing at the sink doing dishes, got a slap on the ass, then a kiss there as well. I turned around and he had picked a play purse off the floor and did it again, sans spanking. He then proceeded to go watch the Watchman with two of his buddies.

And no, I don't feel bad or want to make him feel bad. The man has to get out of the house sometimes. Besides, he is making it up to me, he just doesn't know it yet;)

While holding a purse

2009-03-21T23:38:00.003-04:00

He not only kissed my ass once, but twice.

And that is all I have to say about that.

My never ending appreciation for mental penetration

2009-03-19T22:11:00.002-04:00

You know how you can be in a shitty mood but walk down the street and a construction worker whistles, or the old man on the corner gives you the once over and it makes you feel a little bit better about, well, everything? Sometimes when I read something so great, it gives me the same feeling.

What I'm referencing is mental penetration. Not just common fodder (which I wish I could be less guilty of) but the kind of thing you read and and it makes you stop and repeat it out loud. Words put together so eloquently that you can taste them in your mouth and it makes you want to say those words too.

...or is it just me...hm..

I heart words:)

It's okay honey, really...

2009-03-19T09:42:00.003-04:00

...your toothbrush almost fell into the toilet.

Happy Birthday!!! I love you!!!

I have to say...my boyfriend is hot..tsssssss

2009-03-18T15:51:00.003-04:00

Not really a guy post, but if you're confident in your masculinity, read away

Perhaps I should add this to my other post. Nah.

For once in my life, I have the hot boyfriend. Let me preface things first...

Ok, I suppose every boyfriend a girl has is hot at that particular time. Technically speaking, my time that was lasting was with my ex-husband, and after the first two years he wasn't so hot anymore....jeejee...... So far, I've been with my current boyfriend for about eight months.

And oh my god, he's hot.

He still makes me weak at the knees when I think about him. His smell (even when sweaty, ga...yummmm!), his muscles. And oh my god ladies does this man have muscles! I don't mean "I go to the gym I'm toned muscles", I mean the "You touch her and I'll kill you twice" kind of muscles.

Oh, and he's not the gross body building type. I'll have to google around a bit later to find something similar, or maybe I can coerce him into letting me take a pic of him.

When his arms wrap around me in embrace, I feel like a little kitten waiting to be gobbled up by the big dog. And I fucking love every moment.

And just in case anyone is going "what the hell? why is she telling me this?" I'm telling you because I'm bragging. I am a 37 year old woman who has been living a tad bit repressed. Now that I've got something so awesome and glorious, hell ya I'm going to brag.

And tomorrow is my beasty boyfriend's birthday.

Happy early birthday, baby! I love you!!!

I looked at him and could just tell he had a stinky ass, and his girlfriend...um yeah, smelly vagina

2009-03-18T13:41:00.002-04:00

warning, you may have to shower after reading...go on, I insist

These were just some of the things running through my mind today as I was on the subway. "Guy" gets on the subway with his "Girl". His attire included those damn baggy ass jeans that hang ever slovenly down. A white? t-shirt, a grundgy zipper hoodie, crooked trucker hat. Her attire included purple faded tights, or I guess they're being called leggings now, a skimpy t-shirt and I swear I can't remember what color it was because of other distracting things, shoes either.

They looked in love, enough I guess. That is, when one wasn't scratching and digging or the other doing that sucking noise one does when one is trying to get stuck beef out of one's teeth.

You know when someone is speaking directly to you but they have something on their face that keeps distracting you from the conversation? These two were distracting me from breathing, I could not look away. They were a train wreck match made in heaven.

Being under my microscopic eye, besides the obvious, I started noticing some things. Some disturbing things. After a particularly good scratch under the armpit (must have been good!), I saw Girl flick her nails. And stuff flew off.....not sans hair either. PUKE! As if on cue, guy took off his trucker hat briefly and did one of those back and forth motions. Yes, stuff flew off.

Gah, they were both pale and looked like they needed dipped in rubbing alcohol, scrubbed with a brillo, dipped in alcohol again, then dried out in the sun for good measure.

You know, I've been in public before without a shower. I didn't like it (because I don't like going anywhere without taking a shower first), but I did it. Although I'm pretty sure I didn't have stuff flying off me either, so I'm not comparing, just saying.

And where was I going with this? Oh yeah, there are just some people that when I look at them I immediately size them up that way. Just when I'm bored with too much time on my hands in the subway.

You need to wash your crotch. You've a smelly bum. Oh god just shave your snatch.

Today was one of those days. Heh.

I want to make soap

2009-03-13T16:55:00.002-04:00

My apologies for not finishing my last post.....became busy, then when I had time, well, just didn't feel like it. Right now, I'm in Manhattan staying with my boyfriend.

Yesterday, I had lunch with DoggyBloggy in Chinatown at a little place called The Lunch Box. Very interesting and pleasant enough, although at one point, a crazy lunatic of a man came in screaming at anyone who would listen. At first I thought he may have been a disgruntled customer yelling at the little old Chinese guy. Apparently not, and apparently I was staring because the guy started directing his yelling to me.

I'm not homeless! I'm not some cartoon character! Bitch, I'll knock you the fuck out! Who the fuck do you think you are?? You know who the fuck I am? Well you don't need to know who the fuck I am! I may be old, but I'll beat the fuck out of you! Fucking bitch...and so forth...

This guy was clearly out of his mind. I just looked down and started eating again in hopes he would go away. He did, but wasn't quiet about it.

So many differences between here and my small town Indiana. The guy would never have gotten away with that kind of behavior there. But, here I guess there are so many more crazies just by sheer population. I'm not exactly sure why owners didn't do anything, I'm guessing because they're Chinese and all that their culture entails.

So mister lunatic is off to terrorize another day.

My delicate flower, you know I like it rough, I'm a beast

2009-03-05T07:10:00.001-05:00

Since my divorce, I've been doing a bit of new found experimenting with my boyfriend. Yes, in our respective rolls, I am the beast and he is the delicate flower. If you were to see him, you would think the opposite, he's pretty hunky and muscle-y...and I, well, appear to be a delicate flower, jeejeejee.

I thoroughly enjoy my new sex life, so far it's not been boring or drab or any of those blah words. Afterward, I always feel like high-fiving someone it's that good.

Oooo, just checked the time...have to go get ready for school...I'll finish up later:)

Guys! Note to self: Don't show up on a first date in track pants!

2009-03-03T22:44:00.003-05:00

My friend Shelley and I were talking today after class....and she brought up a date story I had told her about before I had gotten married. Obviously, she was in need of a good laugh.

I met this guy through a friend....a friend of a friend you could say. Ha! He seemed pleasant enough through phone conversations (this was before texting and internet stuff, for me anyway), so I decided to go out with him. I told him I would meet him in his town vs. mine. There was waaaay more to offer than here. Secretly, I was hoping he would take me to a place nothing less than spectacular. He was a lawyer for cripes sake, so I guess my expectations were a bit high to begin with.

We met in a shopping mall parking lot. I drove up with much anticipation. I had seen a picture of him, so I was in the know a little bit of what to expect. He was 6'4" and from the pic appeared to weigh about 250, and not the muscular kind....but that was ok! I was working on liking the person, not the appearance.

.....but I digress

I get out of my car and I swear, I see him "arise" out of his. And I don't mean "arise" as in the parting of the seas arise. I mean when he got out of his car, the driver's side shot up a foot from the weight relief. I shit you not.

holyshit holyshit holyshit

So I say to myself, "ok. it was an older picture....let's not forget we are trying to focus on personality, not appearance!"

but oh good god...are you fucking KIDDING me?

I'm standing there by my car door. Not only do I see him, but I smell him. Oh my god the cologne.....he must inject it, piss it out, then drink it, I think. He wreeeeeeaked. AND! not only were my olfactory senses being assaulted, but as the parking lot lights came into play, so did his semi-track suit.

oh my god are you KIDDING me?

He was wearing black running pants, the kind with the two white stripes on the side, a polo shirt, and a leather jacket.....and don't forget the tennis shoes.

I'm sure I had a look of bewilderment on my face, to say the least...and these words emit from his mouth..."Wow, you dressed up!"

Well no fucking shit dipshit dumbass assface of course I dressed up....I drove a fucking hour and a half because your little city has so soooo much more variety to offer than my doo-hicky town and of course I fucking dressed up....dumbass assface asshat dumbass.

But there I was...still trying to save him.

"ok" I say to myself..."maybe he is going to take me to someplace intimate...a little mom and pop place that is not only exquisite, but extremely romantic....he knows the owners and he doesn't need to dress up to impress ..hell, he's got the whole fucking place just for us!"

Michelle, Michelle, Michelle

All this is racing through my mind. We exchange quick pleasantries and I get into his car. Oh my god that smell.

Then he utters.....

Him: Soooo, what do you feel like?
Me: Oh I don't know, what do you have in mind?

Him: How about Red Lobster?
Me: Are you fucking kidding me? no, I didn't say that, but you know I was thinking it.

save him Michelle, keep going.....

Me: No, I don't really feel like fish....what else is there?

Knowing full well, this is a college town...there are TONS of great places to eat. I wasn't raised in the town, but at the time, I had lived there long enough to know that little tid-bit, sheesh....

Him: Well, there's an Outback, a Sizzler, and...

and before he could get the third place out, I said

Me: Outback will do.

Because, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????

He didn't have a plan at all! Noooo beautiful place to eat!!! Nooooo romanic little Mom and Pop place...Gaaaaah!

We walk into the restaurant, get seated, get menus. I order an appitizer, the biggest one so we can share. But I notice, he never opens his menu...what's up with that?

Ok, ok, it's Outback, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to order. So I say...

Me: I ordered the large one so we could share.
Him: It's okay, I won't eat it. I'm sure it will smell good though!

Wha?

Then these thoughts come racing back to me. I vaguely remember him telling me that he doesn't eat much meat.

Me: Ohhh, ok...

Small talk is made. Honestly, I don't remember. The appetizer arrives and I eat almost all of it, but hey, no biggie.

The waitress comes by and asks if we are ready to order. I have fillet with some stuff (yeah, I can't remember, think it was mashed potatoes and broccoli), and he orders a baked potato.

that is all. a baked potatoe.

I look at him and he smiles really big. As the waitress leaves, I say...

Me: That's all you're going to eat??? A baked potato???
Him: That's all I ever get when I go out, a baked potato.

Me: Wow
Him: You should see when my daughter comes out with me! The only thing she'll order is macaroni and cheese, so we get a baked potato and mac and cheese!

Me: You could do that at home....(I spoke with such a whisper that I think he didn't hear me, it was more of me thinking outloud)
Him: ... .....

By this time, I'm in all out "I don't give a shit anymore" mode. This guy could not be saved. Nuh uh, nada, zilch and I didn't give a shit.

My food came and by god I ate almost every bite.

...more small talk......

After I devoured it all, almost, I noticed he still had baked potato left. Ew....he fucking squeezed into the booth people.....

Him: You want dessert?
Me: No, no thank you.

Him: I didn't eat all of this and I'm already full!

because you ate two packages of hotdogs before we met

Me: Uh, yeah I see that.

I wanted to exit soo badly.......we drove back to my car and I thanked him for dinner.

I never returned his calls and he eventually quit calling.

You know, I didn't care how much money he made, how big his house was, or how many gifts I could have been showered with, there was no way in hell I could have or would have a relationship with that person!

Looking back, it is funny....well, at least Shelley thinks so;P

*** Oh my gosh, I forgot to mention the raw hamburger......

After the 'mac~n~cheese' story and before my 'I don't give a shit' mode, I asked him a question..

Me: Sooo, what DO you eat?
Him: I like pizza, hotdogs, you know....

So he likes to eat shit....okaaaay (which I eat that stuff too, but it's not my whole diet)

Me: You don't eat meat?
Him: Oh I love the smell! But I can chew and chew, I just can't swallow it.

Me: So no meat at all?? wow.
Him: Well, I can eat raw hamburger.

And the whole time, he's smiling and keeps making this 'a-hil a-hil' noise (imagine the 'hil' part going up about three octaves) and he would sigh making this noise 'a-hillllluh' that contained some remnants of a yodel. I shit you not.

Avoiding eye contact as much as possible, but at times when I did catch a glimpse of him, he wasn't just looking at me, he was looking at me like I had pizza smeared all over me with added hotdog accessories.

heehee...a-hil a-hil a-hil

Never light a candle with a posty note

2009-02-20T16:58:00.000-05:00

I haven't blogged in over a year. Seriously. Just checked my wordpress blog and it was Feb. 8 of 2008.

My first post was going to be about the male penis, but not too sure I'm ready to get my freak on with fellow readers just yet;) Instead, I'm going to share a little story with you about me, about what happened to me a few months ago. Don't get your hopes up, it's not really anything long, but it is funny...I think...anyway.

Since my divorce, I live in one half of a duplex (and OOOOhHHH my god I have to make a separate entry about my neighbor Fonzy*!!!). I have a basement and share a laundry room with Fonzy, separate washer and dryer, of course. My living area just screamed CANDLES, so I had to buy a few cheap ones at Wally World.

Never have I been much of a candle person, but now that I live alone and don't have anyone to answer to, I kind of like them (I'm all about the dangerous now...heh). Well, one night I decided to light a few. Since they were older now, the wick was a bit low in the jar. You know, you have to squinch up your hand to light it kind of jar. I didn't have matches, so I grabbed the first flammable thing closest to me. Post it notes. I flipped one up, curled it a little, then set it on fire. It was relatively easy to light the little wick, but the fire seemed to be getting bigger faster. I hopped stepped over to the sink, not really paying much attention to what was going on because hey, it was a little posty.

Imagine the horror when I did a quick flick of the wrist to drop the posty into the sink...only to see it still stuck to my fingers. It didn't 'flick' off. It didn't flick anywhere for that matter. It's a posty and it did what it was supposed to do, stick. Stick and remind me of what a dumbass I was for using a posty to light a candle.

For the life of me, I don't know what I was thinking by the repetitive wrist flicking and dancing feet. It's a posty. It wasn't going anywhere no matter how hard or how many times I wrist flicked it. And I always have dancing feet around flammables.... I don't know why I just didn't immediately thrust my getting hotter fingers, fireball and all, into running water.

What seemed like minutes were only seconds. No injuries what so ever, just an erruption of laughter from myself for a good five minutes after it happened.

It's good to be able to laugh at yourself:)