Manwhore’s whores: Not me!

This has been an insane week.  I almost started to think it was Pop-Up Men time again, but it seems to have stopped at two.  (I didn’t count Harry because he showed back up last week.)  It started out with, are you ready for this?  Manwhore.  Yes, the very same Manwhore who got married to the Chicago Gold-Digger less than two months ago.  At first I thought it was going to just be a text asking me to do some website work for him or something, but I was wrong.  I was very wrong.

Manwhore sent me a few texts and then told me that he would be back down here in about a week.  He asked if I wanted to come see him while he’s back in town.  I was in shock.  Has he really started cheating on her this soon after getting married?  And if so, then why?  Instead of wondering, I asked him.  He said that he hasn’t cheated on her.  This confused me even more.  Why would he take that step into adultery with me of all people?  His answer?

“I’ve just always at some point seen you and we ended up fucking.“

How’s that for disturbing?  After all this time, and all my progress in trying to move on and get past that chapter in my life, he still thinks he can just pop up and I’ll come running to fuck him.  Well, surprise, surprise…I’m not that weak “girl-in-love” anymore.  I answered:

“It’s taken me a long time to get over you.  I think it would be counter productive for me to come and fuck you now.”

I know it’s probably not the anger-filled reply that you might have expected, but I was trying to take the high road and be as polite as possible about it.  There’s no need for me to stoop to his level anymore.  I have overcome!  This is real progress folks!

The next man to pop back up was my second ex-husband, The Ox.  I know I haven’t told you much about him, and I plan to rectify that very soon, but here’s what happened this week.  I was at work Wednesday and got a text from The Ox.  That isn’t unusual.  We still text each other occasionally, and I still consider him a friend.   However, this text was different.

“Would you wanna get back together?”

Keep in mind that The Ox and I have been divorced for almost five years now.  We were only together a total of four years.  Even though I loved him, I have to admit that it was a doomed relationship.  When I got that text from him, I didn’t know if he was joking with me or being serious.  He has a tendency to be very sarcastic and never very serious about anything.  So I asked him if he was being serious.  He said that this time he was.  I told him that I didn’t think it was a good idea, and that some things are best left alone.  Again, I tried to be as nice as possible with my rejection text.

Why?! Why would anyone want this?!

Maybe the universe is just playing some sick joke on me.  It can’t be normal for men to keep going back to a woman from their past like this.  Is it?  I sometimes wonder if I radiate some kind of vibes, or pheromones, or something, and I don’t realize it.  There has to be an explanation for it.  Maybe it’s just the power of the pussy that keeps them coming back for more.  That sounds conceited, I know, but don’t forget…I’m the Cock Master. 

Happy humping!

Waiting to exhale

Cheesy title I know, but it really describes how I feel.  It seems like I’m always waiting on something so I can just breathe.  Like now, I’m waiting to find out what is going to happen with this house, my sister, my friend, my life in general.  “Lost” doesn’t even begin to cover where I’m at in life right now.

Growing up I always had people trying to control me and my life, and even though I cherish my freedom and independence, I feel a little lost when I don’t have someone there trying to control everything for me.

My sister went up to look at that house this weekend, and it turns out that it’s not something that is going to work out for her.  So now we have to find a new plan.  She would stay here, but my boss told her that he’s selling his building and she has to be out by the end of the month.  She was renting an office space from him because her job allows her to telecommute, but she has to have fast internet access, and we don’t have that here at the house.  That leaves her with two options, find a new office to rent, or go ahead and move back to our home state and find a place there where she can set up a new office.

Moving back to our home state was always her plan B, and it seems that now it may be her only option because she got a call from the realtor today.  The woman who looked at the house a couple of weeks ago called and now she wants to bring her husband to come and look at it.  We already know that the woman loves the house, and if the hubby likes it the realtor thinks that they will go ahead and make an offer.  If they do decide to buy the house they want to move in thirty days after the papers are signed.  So we could be homeless in less than two months if things move fairly quickly.

I did some house hunting online, just for the hell of it, and found a really cute “Anne of Green Gables” style house in our home state not too far from where our parents are living now.  It has a horse barn and pasture for my sister’s herd, and it even has a little old general store building on the property.  I would be happy just turning that into my own little cottage.  If we can sell this house then I think I’ve almost got my sister talked into buying that one, or at least taking a look at it.  I don’t relish the idea of being tethered to my sister and nephew for the rest of my life, but the idea of moving back to my homeland, Alabama the Beautiful, and it is a beautiful state, somehow comforts me.

The other thing I feel like I’ve been waiting on is my friend, the one who I was supposed to go see the weekend before last.  He sent me a text a week ago telling me that he had been having phone problems but was back home.  He didn’t say anything else.  A couple of days ago I sent him a text just saying hi.  He never responded.  I guess I should go ahead and return the gift that I’ve carried around in the trunk of my car for over a week now.

I understand that if he’s having a family crisis then he probably doesn’t have time for long conversations with me or anything, but he could at least let me know he’s ok.  Then again, if he can’t even talk to me about things when he going through something like that, then he must not really consider me a friend after all.  Maybe all I ever was to him was just an occasional bed buddy.  It’s too bad, because I make a really good friend and listener too.

I kept promising to explain why I shouldn’t move back to New Orleans, and I guess now is as good a time as any.  It will also connect some of the dots above.  Since my friend isn’t showing much interest and he’s one of the main reasons I wanted to go back to NOLA, now I don’t have much reason at all to move back there.  There are other more important reasons though.

First of all, my little DWI experience back in 2010 came back to bite me in the ass.  I completed all my classes and paid my fines and everything, but I failed to pay off some other unrelated fines to get my physical drivers license back.  When I was living in NOLA I got pulled over one day and got a ticket for a whole list of offenses, and honestly I lucked out because the cop could have taken me back to jail right then, but he didn’t.  Unfortunately the ticket turned out to be over a thousand dollars and I missed my court date because I had to work.  So now I have no license and can’t get one until all that is paid off.  Another problem that came of all that is that I think I have bench warrants out on me, so me taking a chance by being in NOLA is probably a very bad idea.

To top it all off, Manwhore is still there in NOLA and supposedly getting married again in December, and he’s the last person I want to run into.  He also knows about my dirty little DWI secret.  Depending on which side of the bipolar tree he’s swinging from on any particular day, he might just turn me in for the fun of it.  So you can probably understand my trepidation there.

Since I have a whole list of reasons why I shouldn’t move back to NOLA, and very few reasons why I should, I think I’ll just appreciate the time that I did get to spend there, and leave it in my past where it belongs.

Just so you know, and so I don’t feel like a complete liar, I’ll tell you only that someone from my past has popped up again.  I don’t want to say who just yet.  It’s someone who I have very conflicted feelings about…someone who I like, but who also scares me.  Once I sort out some of my feelings on the whole situation, I’ll try to share them in more detail.  Until then…

Happy humping!

Bad Harry! Bad, bad Harry!

Before my heart stops racing and before I go on a binge breaking things…

This morning I was to meet Harry for breakfast at the local Huddle House.  We met.  Now I’m at work and ready to spit nails into someone’s tires.

When I got there he was already sitting in the booth.  I sat down, we ordered, and he just stared at me and smiled.  I told him about our tenants moving out, and about the possible buyer on the house.  When I mentioned that I just hate not knowing how long I’ll be here and what is going on, he had kind of a weird guilty look on his face.  I knew something was up.

Then he said, “There’s something that I wanted to talk to you about.  I should have told you last week, but I couldn’t.”  Great.  What now?  Then he went on to tell me that his friends had talked him into giving it another shot with his wife, and he had moved, as in really moved, back in with his wife, but he really likes me and wants to keep seeing me.  WHAT THE HELL?

This is EXACTLY what I told him I didn’t want to happen.  I told him in the beginning that I didn’t want to start seeing him and then have him turn around and decide he was going back with his wife or ex-girlfriend.

I feel like an idiot.  I saw the red flags, and I chose to ignore them.

Any way, I told him that I refused to be the “other woman.”  If he wanted to try to work things out with his wife, then he should do so and give it his all…with no girlfriends on the side.  I even told him that I hoped things worked out for them.

All he could say was that he was sorry.

Sorry my ass.  I didn’t even eat my breakfast.  My appetite was gone.  I brought it back for my sister to eat instead.  From my pain, comes her gain.

I’m trying to remain calm about all this, because I didn’t even really have anything vested into the relationship yet, but it still pisses me off.  Deep breaths and happy thoughts….

On the bright side, now I have something to write about.  And…I no longer have evil thoughts about how I should stick around here.  I still owe you an explanation on why I probably shouldn’t move back to New Orleans, but I’ll post that in a separate post, soon.  (Just so you know, I would really, really like to move back to NOLA.)

Happy humping.

The Tenants from Hell

You may recall that back in April of this year my sister rented out our basement to a couple I later called Awesome Man & Awesome Woman due to their wonderful woodworking & auto mechanic skills.  All that has changed.  They are no longer awesome in any way.  I’ll explain.

After they moved in they told us that they had a six-month old baby girl.  We were told that she was up North with his family because AW & AM  had recently moved down here to take care of AW’s dying mother, who we later found out was a drug dealer, and they wanted to get settled before bringing the baby down.  Of course that sounded odd, but they didn’t seem like the sharpest tools in the shed anyway, so we just said OK and let it go.

A couple of weeks after the Crawfish Boil, we were all hanging out on the porch talking and enjoying a beer.  My sister went inside to check on something and while she was gone, AM said something about AW looking really good for having had kids.  I agreed.  Then she said that she couldn’t believe she was in such good of shape after giving birth FIVE times.  What?!  Five times?!  I was certain I must have heard her wrong.  She’s not much older than my sister and she had only mentioned the one baby prior to that.  I was shocked and confused and afraid to say anything for fear of sounding judgmental, but I wanted to ask her where the hell her other kids were.

I mentioned it to my sister the next day, and she agreed that I must have misunderstood.  It just all sounded too insane.  If she had five kids, then why weren’t the other four with her?  We were both extremely confused.

The next day my sister got a chance to talk to AM for a few minutes and managed to find out that

Dear Unicorn

A redheaded hobbit runs through the forest in search of the ever elusive unicorn.  Giving up her search, she decides to write the Unicorn a letter.

Dear Unicorn,

I thought I had found you, but it turns out that it was just a horse with a shiny horn super-glued to its handsome head.  Searching for you has been exhausting, and therefore I am no longer going to continue my search.  Wherever you may be, if you do even exist, I am leaving it up to you to find me.  Hopefully fate will bring us together.

Until that time I have decided to move on with my little hobbit life and search for more tangible things like a new house, a new job, a new car, and an ale that tastes good and is less filling.

While my search for you has been fun and exciting at times, it has also raised my blood pressure and heart rate in very bad ways.  My goal now is to live a more stress-free life, leave the trolls alone, and let God sort out the rest.

Sincerely,

The Redheaded Hobbit, aka