Bonnie’s Beach 🏖

My Life. My Experiences. My Love. My Words.

Time and a Half…

Tick tick tick
It never seemed to stop
It never seemed to slow
Tick tick ticking away at her soul
All the coulda woulda shouldas
She couldn’t let them go
Rushing to and fro
Just a little longer then home
Here and there and everywhere
Her mind was over tasked
Another call another email
Always needing that time and a half
Just to scrape by
Always by the skin of her teeth
Never a restful moment
Always in need of sleep
And what was there to show
For all the years and dedication
Heartbreak debt and loneliness
Nothing to her name
Secret dreams of accidents
A settlement just one
For what’s a couple broken bones
When you could afford to have work done
Maybe just a broken leg
Walking in front of a car
With zero debt and zero fucks
You don’t have to walk very far
Or maybe just a simple trip
A long vacation you could say
A tumble down the stairs
A slight knocking of the skull
When you’re in a drug induced coma
How could her dreams be dull
But snapped back to reality
Tick tick tick and more
She quickly realized she was late
But rushed to finish more
Everyone who knows her
Is sure to understand
In this dog eat dog world
More work is just the cure
For who has time for fun
When you can’t even afford it
Enjoying life is overrated
At least that is what she thought
But too much stress
No happiness
Something’s sure to pop
That only drove her harder
Quickly climbing up that ladder
Up up up ever higher
Where she’d stop no one could know
But something in the back of her mind
Was getting ready to blow
For late nights there were uppers
Although they hardly worked anymore
For just a couple hours of sleep
Downers were the way to go
But emptiness and loneliness
Were always knocking at the door
Sometimes the sound would make her scream
So she’d work and work some more
To drown out thoughts of nothingness
And earn those dollar bills
Just to watch them disappear
Paying off debt and buying pills
Tick tick tick
As more time passes by
The pressure growing in her mind
Steadily on the rise
Sanity declines
At first there was some blurriness
Some things were out of focus
She brushed it off as if age was the culprit
Or maybe lack of sleep was all
If it was still there a day later
She would make a call
The fuzzy shapes would all subside
Life was back to normal
There wasn’t time for any check up
Work was due tomorrow
A headache here
A headache there
Nothing out of the ordinary
Some tingling in her fingers
She must have just slept funny
Tick tick tick
Typing talking always moving
Sometimes her neck felt stiff and sore
Must be her posture
More work more
The first to arrive
The last to leave
You’d think she was the company’s star
But all that work and overtime
Only earned her even more
Time behind her computer
Chained to the office floor
Ever working always harder
More work more
Then comes another headache
Right behind an eye
She wouldn’t let that stop her
She’d work until she’d die
Every day was blurry
Bleeding into the next
Weeks months years
More and more stress
Tick tick tick
Time was rushing fast
But she couldn’t change her ways
Her future was now her past
For one night she was working late
Alone and on her own
The life not lived had ceased to give
Another hint or warning
This pace was not maintainable
She’d be there until morning
The pain struck instantaneously
From inside her head
The pressure building up
Found a way around its dead end
Internally it flowed
Turning gray a darker hue
She tried to scream
Someone help me please
A gurgle was the best she could do
Slumping down
No control of limbs
Gravity was her master
Tick tick tick
Vision blurring ever faster
Time is of the essence now
Although now it didn’t matter
There’s no going back
To change a past
And oh there goes the bladder
One by one each organ
Struggled to maintain function
For the master switch had been flipped
As hemorrhaging took over
All the coulda would shouldas
Flashed by in record time
Would she still get paid for this
She obviously earned her overtime
A silly thought
It was her last
She couldn’t even laugh
Tick tick tick
The darkness settled in
So this is what it feels like
To finally feel at rest

-Bonnie

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The Dumbest F*cking Person On The Planet…

…was one of my favorites, and I had started to believe it was true even though I knew, deep within the darkest depths of my soul, it was as far from the truth as one could get.

So what would make me even remotely believe that I was stupid, ugly, fat, worthless, frumpy, you name it (those are just the g-rated ones), over beautiful, intelligent, sexy, amazing, talented, and worth someone’s love? After some self-analysis over the past few months, my eyes opened more and more as I was able to answer that question honestly: me. I’m not at all saying everything was my fault, although that had been the stance I had adopted nearly two years ago, but I am just as much to blame as the person who gave me the poisonous words that I’d ingest willingly over and over again. Rather than building a tolerance, I mentally and emotionally cracked until I was so broken, I couldn’t see past the pieces scattered on the floor, creating a circular void in the center where I once stood. For every compliment there was a polar opposite, and the bad far outweighed the good to the point where my brain refused to believe the compliments held any truth whatsoever.

But here’s the kicker: I allowed it, and I had become someone else. Someone who cowered. Someone who triple guessed every decision. Someone who lived with an anxiety that was never there before. Someone I hated. Someone who wasn’t worth a damn thing. Someone who didn’t deserve to waste the precious ozone we all depend on. Someone who thought that changing who they were in order to make someone else happy would actually work. I mean, who would think that altering one’s behavior in order to please someone else would completely backfire? When the things someone loved about you had become annoying and irritating, you assume that action or behavior should be altered so they’re no longer annoying, right? Right??? Those small acts of love, like kissing someone goodbye as they slept when you were leaving for work or calling just to say hi, became sudden outbursts of anger. So those small gestures disappeared one by one as they only garnered a negative and frightening response. The anger turned into yelling. The yelling turned into some of the harshest things you could hear from someone who was supposed to be your life partner. This was the man I was determined to spend the rest of my life with, and I was determined to a fault. We both were. My tunnel vision hid the truth: that I had changed.

Not that there’s anything wrong with change! We change and adapt and grow as we continue our journey through life. But this wasn’t growth. It was adaptation to survive. It was an alteration made to what made me me, and what someone had loved about me, and I was no longer a priority. My schedule was planned around his. Normal things I had been doing for years now seemed to be in the way of what he wanted and what was expected. My gym schedule had to be altered so I would be home immediately after work to start fixing dinner, and soon my gym time disappeared altogether as work became a priority over my health. Hair appointments had to be scheduled by 2pm to meet the same mandate. The same went with doctors appointments. Meeting my girlfriends once or twice a month to grab some food and margaritas happened less and less, until I would make excuses in order to not go at all. Seeing friends and family became a rare occurrence, as they kept me away from the person who wanted my time, and in order to avoid any backlash at home, I became a coward and found excuse after excuse to not see them much at all. Even when I made plans to go out, because he had plans to go out, I would be guilt tripped, called or texted every hour, informed he would be home at a certain time so we would be able to spend the evening together, only to find that I cut my plans short to go home, and his plans had changed to keep him out later. So there I’d be, at home alone, just me and my cats. This was all gradual. It didn’t happen overnight. In the beginning they were small sacrifices for the man I loved, but over time they began to break me down. I was isolated from the people who loved me and would hermit at home to avoid any conflict. I had become weak and fearful of any fights that might stem from his claim that I was disrespecting him. When I did make the rare plans to venture out my phone was glued to my hip so as not to miss a call or text, because if I didn’t answer or respond fast enough, there would be another tongue lashing over the phone and when I got back home.

It wasn’t just verbal abuse, it became mental abuse. I would be shunned and ignored. The silent treatment with a seething side of anger. It was always about respect, and I seemed to be the one doing all the disrespecting. Never mind the name calling and being hung up on. He believed he was justified, because according to him it was all my fault. I didn’t listen. I didn’t follow directions. I ordered the wrong thing at the drive-thru. I didn’t text a response within five minutes. I didn’t answer my phone. These things would “make him think” is how he put it. I was now a liar and couldn’t be trusted. So my phone had to be with me at all times.

As time went on I no longer found joy in anything I used to do. Hiking and going for walks were out of the question, because what if I lost my phone signal? Having my friends and family stop by the house became uncomfortable for everyone as his irritation that they were there was clearly visible, and I began to make excuses for why they couldn’t come over anymore. I became “busy” and unavailable and always had something else I had to do. He and I would make plans to do something together, but we never seemed to do anything at all. Covid definitely helped in this area, because now there was a valid excuse to not do a damn thing. He would spend his time in the garage while I cleaned the house, and then he’d leave to see his friends only to tell me he’d be back for dinner. Then he would let me know he would be late, but we’d still have dinner. Then that would turn into his just picking up something, because he wasn’t sure when he’d be home, and I would just need to fend for myself. This happened more and more, and I was trained to not expect much in the ways of plans. I isolated myself to the confines of a house I cannot wait to move out of. If the house wasn’t clean, he would make some snide comment to me that I was slacking. If I spent too much time cleaning I’d be told the house was fine, and that he didn’t care if it was clean. If he took out the trash, and I failed to put a new bag in the trash can right away, he would accuse me of playing games and being spiteful. All over a trash bag! Dishes in the sink? Obviously my spiteful way to get him to finally do them. When I’d tell him I just hadn’t gotten to them yet, he would wash half of them, pissed off that he had to do any sort of womanly chore, and then retreat to the garage to shun me for the rest of the evening. More and more, the things I said or did or the misread facial expressions became disrespectful to him, and his mood would 180° in the blink of an eye. So the shunning would again commence. Entire days and weekends where he would avoid me at home and wouldn’t speak to me. I was a prisoner in my own house, always worried, always anxious, always knowing there would be a scolding when he would decide to break his silence. What names would he call me this time? How loud was he going to yell? How hard did he plan on slamming a door? How long was he not going to talk to me again? Who was I going to wake up next to in the morning? Was it going to be Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde? I was no longer allowed to contact his family and friends. He no longer accompanied me to family events. We no longer went on dates, and when he said we would, he’d turn it into a couples date with his friends, but then he would end up cancelling. So staying at home doing nothing became our date nights. We used to watch movies together on the weekends. That turned into watching ten minutes of something together until he finished eating what was on his plate to leave me there alone as he went back out to his garage. And these are just some of the small, more pleasant discomforts that became the norm. One time I was yelled at after we went through a drive-thru to get breakfast, and I had asked him if he wanted his sandwich or his hash brown first. I was yelled at and accused of being stupid and not knowing who he was at all. How could I not know he wanted his hash brown first?! I was an idiot. I was dumb. I was useless. I never made that mistake again.

Over the course of a year it became worse. The yelling was louder. The cut downs became cruel and even more hurtful. The more I tried to change who I was to avoid those moments, the more pathetic I became. I was too easy a target, and I took it, and I cried. I would have anxiety attacks at home, while grocery shopping, even picking up dinner, because what if I forgot something? What if I ordered the wrong thing? What if I messed something up or did something wrong? I would try not to cry in public as these thoughts rushed to the forefront of my mind, and the anxiety would build and build. I learned to swallow it down, put on a fake face, and get whatever I needed to get done quickly. I was a coward. I didn’t have the strength to stand up for myself or fight back. I always just let it happen. I let him speak to me as if I was a piece of trash, and he would be sure to tell me I was. I allowed it. So when I finally did begin to fight back and return his words, the intensity increased, but I was tired of just taking it. I was tired of being the bigger person and not stooping to name calling or potentially saying things that can never be taken back. That was a lesson I had learned years before, and I had become very good at keeping my mouth shut, and I absolutely hate fighting, because it doesn’t solve a fucking thing. Words spoken in anger are not words of truth, but if repeated enough they become a lie you believe. They are meant to cut and slice and stab and draw blood, and boy could they. But I was tired of being the one bleeding out every time, and I let my words fly. Saying cruel words even in defense didn’t make me feel better. They made me feel even weaker, because now I was becoming angry. If I wasn’t allowed to cry or be sad anymore I concluded that the only logically, acceptable response was to be angry and mad. That was the response I was always receiving, so why couldn’t I do the same? But I learned anger is very difficult to control. No matter how loud I yelled back or how many cruel things I could shoot back in defense, it would only build and build until I wanted to throw things. I wanted to break things. I want to put my fists through walls. I wanted to scream. I wanted to explode. But I’m not that type of person. I would think of the consequences and keep the anger inside. I became salty and unhappy with everything. My sarcasm and cynicism became relentless. This in turn made him even more angry, and it became a vicious cycle of fights and cut downs and being apart. I turned my anger onto myself in the form of not giving a shit. I would relentlessly pick at my face and body. I stopped giving a shit about what I ate. I would avoid calls from friends or family. I hated my job. I hated my house. I hated my life. Worst of all, I hated me. I believed it was all my fault. If I could just fix me everything would be better, but I didn’t love or even like myself enough to fix anything. I was angry and hurt, and it showed. I looked at photos from two years earlier, and I could no longer recognize the face I saw in the mirror everyday. I had aged. I looked tired, sad, and ugly. The poison was doing its work, and I kept drinking it. Vial after vial, I would drink it all and feel even more empty. Even my not giving a shit was a lie I’d tell myself, because I knew I cared too much. I knew what I was doing to myself. I knew! My self-destructive behavior had more control than I wanted to admit, so I would cry and be angry. I was an absolute mess. If I didn’t love myself, how on earth could I love anyone else? What sort of example was I to my daughter? How could I possibly teach her to love herself and be strong when I was so weak?

The past four months have been extremely difficult. This was supposed to be a time of joy and celebration. Instead it was ripped apart by all this anger, and my anger had become resentment. Once you hit that stage, it’s hard to go back to what was before in order to forgive and trust and love and heal. It is the final boss at the end of the game, and I had come to meet it face to face, and I was destined to lose. The extreme lows were followed by extreme highs. I was exhausted and confused and lost. Any positives were quickly washed out by negatives, to the point that was all I heard and believed anymore. I was trash. I was a stupid bitch, a dumb cow, fat and ugly, a sexual turnoff, a crack whore, frumpy, a dumbass, and I was told to shut the fuck up repeatedly and hung up on. I believed it all at this point. I would try not to cry as this poison was shoved down my throat and into my heart. I was broken. I had no fight left to give, and the poison had me believing that life would be better for everyone if I just wasn’t around anymore. Not that I’d ever actually go through with that at all, but those dark thoughts crept within the shadows of my mind, whispering sweet, sour nothings in my ear, inviting me to play along. As I mentioned in the very beginning, the darkest depths of my soul had something deep within. It was keeping something safe and hidden until I was ready to acknowledge it.

I was ready…

-Bonnie

If you have read all the way to this point, I’m sure you have grasped the situation I am writing about. Only my closest family and friends have been kept in the know of what my life has become over the past couple years, and believe me, they don’t even know the half of it. I only write about it now, because this is a type of therapy for me. It is a form of release and a way to help me reflect and heal myself moving forward. I will not share everything. The moments I do share are lite versions of the worst of it all, but they are enough, and I can only hope that my writing about my own experiences might help someone else. As natural as it is to pick a side, this is not meant to bash my now ex boyfriend. We still love each other. We had hurt each other immensely, and we knew we were toxic for one another, and we would have continued hurting each other if it wasn’t put to a dead stop. Things have been said that will never be forgotten, but now I have the ability to truly grow and find myself again. There’s a girl I knew four years ago. She was in love and happy and radiant, and I am determined to find her again. She may not shine as brightly as she once did, but I’ll pull her back into the light, and I will continue writing about my journey of self-healing and discovery as I learn to love myself again. If you want to leave a comment, all I ask is that it’s a positive one. Please do not bash someone else. This space is mine to share with you, and I need it to be a healing one. 💙

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Catcher of Rainbows…

I am not a writer.

I am not a painter.

I am not a poet.

I am not an electrician.

I am not a homemaker.

I am not religious.

So what the fuck am I? Besides annoying and sarcastic and hilarious? Probably the only thing I excel at being: a Jack of all trades. I would say Jill, but then people look at me all cockeyed, so it’s just easier being a Jack. Master? Nope! Expert? Absolutely not! Genius? Hahaha! No! Scholar?Most definitely nope! So what am I besides being subpar or good enough to do as many things as I possibly can?

Scatterbrained. Absolutely all over the place. You thought I’d use a better term, right? Believe me, I thought maybe philomath would be a good one to use as an all encompassing umbrella term, but when it is synonymous with scholar and genius, I have to say it’s a hard nope. If you’ve never heard of a philomath before, it’s worth the lookup. In a way it does describe me. You just have to knock its seriousness down about ten rungs to that whole Jack/Jill level. Nothings against the Jacks and Jills of the world, because we keep this world moving.

Wanting to learn everything I possibly can comes with a price. I have learned (yeah, ba da dum, tsss) as I’ve gotten older that my brain does not like to shut off. It has its moments of pure, determined focus, but more often than not, it is attempting to catch rainbows. My thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I have so many ideas that I can’t seem to recall 90% of them. If I don’t associate your name with something immediately, I will forget it within two minutes of hearing it. If I sit down at a restaurant, and there’s no conversation, I will read everything in range, at least five times, and I will still have to reread the menu to figure out what I want to eat. It is a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse, but it has given me a divine sense of humor that can come out as mean if I don’t watch myself. Which is also odd, because I am actually a nice person. Annoying, yes! Mean, no! But I can be, so don’t be a dick!

I have learned to write everything down so I don’t forget. I also have to remind myself to remember to write it down, because I will forget to do that too. There are so many things I still want to do, see, and experience in my life, that I no longer have a bucket list. I have a CVS receipt over a mile long. In fact, it’s probably hit the two mile mark at this point, but honestly, I don’t remember where it left off. Obviously the list gets longer each year, because I find myself doing things that aren’t even on my list to begin with. Then I add more to that list that I may or may not get to this year. Or next year. Or ever. Eek!

The desire to learn is strong. I do consider myself pretty damn good at figuring things out. I can Google like a champ, and if I can’t find it on the internet, it most likely doesn’t exist. So there’s that. I love puzzles, cryptograms, word searches, and other random, mind-engaging activities. No. I do not like crosswords, chess, or algebraic equations that use Greek alphanumeric characters that have an assigned, mathematical value. Hell nope! When puzzles are associated with math, like the Rubik’s Cube, I’m out. I can add, multiply, figure out angles, and solve for x. Calculators are my friends. Again. Google is my friend. I can get a max of two sides of that damn cube. So I gotta admit that performing at 33.3…% efficiency is sad. Like, really sad.

And yet I must learn more!

But I never seem to want to learn everything about one thing. I just want to learn something about everything. So that whole curse thing happens here: I learn enough to do whatever task is at hand, and then the desire to learn more vanishes once that particular task is complete. I have a minimum of twenty started projects going at the same time, but two new ones are added each time I complete one. I still owe (not really owe, I enjoy giving a lot) multiple Christmas gifts that I am still in the process of making. I put my heart into everything I do and make, and yet my brain likes to travel elsewhere. It is stressful, exhausting, and it takes its toll on my current, physical and mental state. I get tension headaches nearly every day now, and if I don’t get those under control, they evolve into migraines. Those bad boys like to linger a good three days. I want to get so many things done every day that I don’t seem to have time to finish them. That is, if I even find the time to begin.

Everything is fleeting. My writing comes in waves. My desire to paint is like a storm blowing through. I waste time doing absolutely, nothing worthy of said time. When my body wants nothing more than to sleep, because my eyeballs literally hurt, my brain has other plans. Yay! Puzzles!!! That inspiration to get things done, seems to sputter out midway through just writing out my to-do list. I am a mess.

So why am I writing now? Why am I sharing my nightmare of a mental state with you? Why am I sharing with you the things I enjoy starting and never finishing? Yeah. I don’t know either. Maybe it just helps me organize my thoughts a bit. Maybe I have some deep, philosophical urge to let others know they’re not the only crazy people out there. You are not alone. We are not alone. Know why? Because we are all fucking crazy. Seriously. The quicker you learn that the easier life becomes, because no one thinks the exact same way you or I do. At least we are unique in some way. Ok. Not really. We just like to believe that lie we tell ourselves. We are sooooooooo not unique, and the universe is completely indifferent to our measly, blip of an existence. Even knowing all of that, I still want to learn more. Yes. I’m crazy. But at least I admit it.

Keep doing your crazy. I’ll keep doing mine.

Just don’t be a dick about it.

-Bonnie

Yeah. I can write poetry to scare people, and paint one hell of a bear. I can make a grilled cheese that’ll give you a heart attack ten years down the road (I’m trying to shorten that to five by adding even more butter. I think it’s working), and I can organize like a motha fuckah! I can lay waste to a bag of Dove silky, milk chocolates, and I can get my cat Sausage to “do the thing” which involves getting her to rear up on her stocky little ham hock back legs to get more scratches. Yeah. She’s a special one with her own IG account @catsausage. I can also continue writing random shit about myself, because your level of crazy wants to keep reading it. Sucker! I kid! I appreciate you reading my randomness. I really do. I think it’s fun sharing my weirdness, because you can maybe relate to a fraction of it. If not, I at least hope it was entertaining. Go check out my cat’s page. You know you want to. Just do it. Yes. I am pushing my cat now. You’re welcome. 😉

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New Old Beginnings

This has been a crazy couple of weeks!  I have moved into my new place.  I moved my fur babies in with me Sunday!  Yay!  I have missed them!!!!!  Almost completely unpacked!  Still have things I need to go through and get rid of and donate.   My washer and dryer were delivered Monday, so now I get to do laundry!!!!!  Lots and lots of laundry!!!!  Dating is still exhausting, but I have a second date on Wednesday!!!!!  So excited!!!!!   Work is absolutely insane, and I don’t feel like I am anywhere near breaking the surface to catch a breath of air.  I know it’s coming, but for now it’s crazy!   Loving it!  Don’t get me wrong!  But yes still crazy!

This past week I went on a couple of dates.  One on Tuesday, went nowhere fast.  Then one on Wednesday, which I thought went great!  So on Sunday he asked me out for another one!  Uber excited!!!!!!!   I do have a drink/meet with someone else, but hey!  Don’t judge me!  It’s always good to keep your options open!  😛   You never know…  And since I never actually posted this yesterday (Monday) when I started it, my drink/meet went great!!!!!!  Awesome guy!!!  The real kicker is that he knows who my dad is after meeting him back in ’98!  Yes!  I know!!!  Small, weird world we live in!

Anyway, so yeah.  Loving the new place!  Still haven’t used my kitchen.  Will finally get to use my laundry area.  I have boxes and boxes of donation crap on my porch.  Still need to go through even more stuff and just get rid of it.  Haven’t really put away clothes yet.  Still waiting on my bed to arrive.  Haven’t gotten any internet or anything hooked up.  Have no clue what my electric bill is going to run me.  But I love it!!!  I’m having to adult again, but that’s ok.  

My mini me is doing great!!!  School starts next week!  Holy crap, high school!!!!  Child has been working her butt off for color guard!!!  She is doing so well, and she makes me more proud every single day!!!!  I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter on this planet!  Love my angel pie!!!

Anyway, gotta get some work done!  Lots to get done today!!!!   Ciao for now! 

-Bonnie
Another day…

  

My living room.  Still a work in progress, but I can sit in my couch!

  
Madi took this shot of the stairs.  Pretty awesome pic!

 
 Welcome

  
It was Star Wars night at the Rangers game on Saturday!  Loved this poster a kid had!

 
My crazy fur baby!!!

  

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Already Giving Up A Little…

Why the hell is it so hard being happy?  I mean, isn’t that what people strive for?  Happiness?  So why is it such a struggle?  Why is that we can work and work and work for our goals, but the happiness from achieving them fades away leaving us wanting more?  These are questions that have been haunting me lately, and the more I dwell, the more my happiness fades away to leave a dull, gray residue behind, and that’s all I see anymore.  

I had a bad night recently. Although I may have had one too many beers, I got depressed and began to think a tad irrationally.  So I shut down my FB page. I shut down my FB Messenger.  I almost posted my final blog post as well, but I fell asleep before I hit post, and now I can’t find the draft…   So consider yourself lucky. 😉   I’m kidding!  You’re not lucky!!!!  Here you are, reading my randomness again!  So there!  😛

In my last post I mentioned my loathing for apartment hunting.  Sadly I have been too damn busy to even have the chance to find one!  This only sets me back further as anything that was available for an August move in is sure to have been snatched up with nothing until September or October. Just my luck!  I am trying to get out of here. I feel like a freeloader, hence my never really being around anymore.  I’ll stay out late and grab wings and a beer at Hooters, or I’ll stay late at the park, or I’ll just do nothing really.  I try to hide in the back room to avoid being in the way and attempt to lessen my feelings of being such a loser. Which yes, I am a loser.  Such a loser of a loser.  I’m pretty pathetic.  I can’t help but feel worse and worse as each day passes.  And though no one would claim that I am one, I still feel that way just the same. Anyone who knows me also knows I never intended to be in the situation I am currently in.  If it weren’t for the heat, I’d still be in my car until I found a place. 

Among other news, I signed back up for match.com.  Yeah I know.  Guess I like to torture myself.  That must be it!  First date was ok, then he started with the drama.  Um, nope!  Second date, that guy just wants fun.  I have been propositioned via the match messenger more than I care to think about!  I had a date Sunday that I thought went great, but then allegedly we were supposed to go out again tonight, but then he got his daughter.  Which ok.  That’s fine. I totally understand that.  But at least have the decency to let me know ahead of time rather than allow me to sound like a nag until you finally tell me what the hell is going on.  I don’t see it being that much to ask for.  Really.  Common courtesy is nice!  Then there was another guy I was chatting with.  Now I have been blown off by that one the same day.  I am just really getting tired.  

So yeah.  Trying to date again sucks.  I mean really?  All you want to do is what?  Um…no. Apartment hunting?  That’s sucky too!!!  Ugh!  Just shoot me already!!!  If I wanted to hook up I’d download tinder.   Trust me.  I have thought about trying it to see if you can actually score a date rather than a yeah.  You guessed it. 

Next week I will be in Denver.  I know I am wiring stuff in the field.  That’s about it. So I am going to stay through the following weekend in order to enjoy the area a bit.  Maybe check out Garden of the Gods and some microbreweries over there.   🙂 

So I am going to leave it at that and get some much needed sleep.  Wish me luck, because I am about to throw my hands up and say I quit.  Men are beginning to piss me off.  If it wasn’t for the small amount of fun they can provide from time to time, I’d be done.  So stupid and frustrating and exhausting!  Anyway, have a good night!  😉
Fundraising event Friday night in Austin with me hanging out on stage with the drag queen.  She was fabulous!!!!!  
Where is this guy?!?!  Am I asking too much?!?!

  
Where I’d rather be right now…

  
And I can do a pull up now!!!!!!

 Woohoo!!!!!  So I rewarded myself with this!
  

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