tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-373042652024-03-06T23:15:14.767-08:00Experiences of a Dating MisanthropeY'all have been on me for a while to document my fucked up dating life. I am hoping to get by with a little help from my friends.....hell, if you aren't laughing with me, laugh about me. Tomato tomato. Enjoy, KatLA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.comBlogger244125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-56327540818590378212012-02-05T10:09:00.000-08:002012-02-05T10:21:17.092-08:00So So Cupid....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here we go again; hamster Kat just got back on the spinning wheel of internet dating. I joined OK Cupid. It's not even been 24 hours and I have two Doms sniffing around.....guess the submissive in me oozes out of my profile. I have also already gotten into an argument with a man regarding creationism....who believes that shit?? AND he has two kids and believes creationism should be taught in school. He warned me I was going to get struck by lighting. If I haven't been smited by an angry God yet, I'm not too worried. A very nice man sent me an email. He is handicapped and in a wheelchair. I am shallow. I told him we were not a match. Ugh, these guys are retards. Just got this email, "How's OK Cupid treating you?" I replied, "OK Cupid is treating me as I would expect a computer program would. And you?" Lazy and stupid opening line. This asshole carries on and on in his profile about how witty and articulate he is. Not seeing it douche.....<br />
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On the quest for something extraordinary, OK Cupid seems like an unlikely breeding ground. Maybe I'll get some free food out of it, or an aneurism.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-37367515361653467692012-02-04T08:36:00.000-08:002012-02-04T08:40:31.793-08:00Ho's Gotta Save Herself First<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well fuck. The pull to be Captain Save a Ho after my weekend with Manhattan Millionaire has caught me by surprise. "I can fix him! I can make him happy!" Has been looping in my brain. I've been resisting the urge to be the Neosporin on his broken brain but this feeling has been compelling.<br />
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Thursday in therapy I launched into the recounting of my weekend with Manhattan Millionaire with all of the righteous indignation I could muster, "Didn't he see that I was incredibly empathetic to his irrational fear and was willing to do anything to make him feel better? Doesn't that count for something??" My therapist patiently listened before he chimed in, "Are you ready Kat?" (Uh oh. This is going to be a big fat oh shit bomb.) "MM's bullying triggered your PTSD. You weren't taking care of him, you reverted back to survival mode to protect yourself to make his abuse stop." Woah. He was right.<br />
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I've been crying since Thursday due to this revelation (and probably the hormones from the morning after pill still raging through my system.) All of this hard work I've been doing and I still don't recognize abuse. My therapist pointed out, "Many women would have told him to fuck himself, get help for his phobia, bag your shit!, packed up and never spoken to him again. Instead, you made myself sick and put yourself at risk for serious health issues then spent the rest of the weekend catering to him." FUCK FUCK FUCK. <br />
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Yesterday I told Manhattan Millionaire to pound sand permanently. I'm setting sail for calmer waters.<br />
<br />LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-36267884905517916042012-02-01T10:05:00.000-08:002012-02-01T10:34:19.794-08:00Didn't Leave My Heart in San Francisco<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It seemed like I ran a marathon to get to this weekend with Manhattan Millionaire. I paid attention to every little detail in preparation of seeing a man I haven't seen for 27 years and have been speaking to for 5. I was nervous and excited; the romantic in me hoped for a fairytale ending. Disappointment was inevitable. <br />
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I walked in to the beautiful Chateau Tivoli, a Victorian bed and breakfast in The Haight district of San Francisco. It was what one might expect; over the top gilded grandeur more suited for a brothel than a hotel. As I was checking in, Manhattan Millionaire made his entrance gliding down the elaborately carved wooden staircase and sweeping me into his arms. My feet left the floor as he spun me around in a tight embrace. I then got a good look at him. The years had been kind. He looked much the same as I had remembered with the exception of some gray at his temples. He was a very handsome man and had retained his boyish good looks.<br />
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We retreated into the parlor and sipped wine on a ridiculously fragile looking Victorian settee. We both giggled while commenting on our surroundings. I could not believe I was finally seeing him! 3D after years of 2D communication! We both were grinning like school kids with the awkward tension between us palpable. I found it impossible to keep my hands from caressing his face. Magical.<br />
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We reluctantly parted so I could finish checking in and change for dinner. My room was beautiful with a fireplace and antique furnishings. I took my time as I changed into my gorgeous Trashy Lingerie bra, panties and garters. Hand made lace with satin ribbon trim which fit me like a glove. I wore a blue chiffon cocktail dress which was form fitting, but left much to the imagination. Finally, I slipped on a pair of patent stilettos, my black velvet coat and made my way downstairs.<br />
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Red flag no. 1; he didn't say one complimentary thing about my appearance<br />
Red flag no 2; he hadn't made dinner reservations even though we had planned this trip for over three months<br />
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We left the hotel walking randomly on a quest for a restaurant. We passed a jazz club and MM flipped because some jazz bass legend was playing there that night. We got tickets, and a front row seat. They had food as well but let's just say....er seared ahi with tartar sauce? Really?? The show was good, the wine flowed and he started to pepper me with kisses and caresses. We had another drink at the bar before going back to the hotel. I was turning heads but he seemed oblivious. I'm not conceited, but I know when I look good and I LOOKED GOOD. We talked about birth control at this point and I told him I can't get pregnant but offered to get condoms. He said he believed me and we went back to the hotel.<br />
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The lovemaking (I know, I know...even I gag as typing that but that is what it was) was exceptional. It was passionate, intimate, fun.....our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. We collapsed after several hours and slept with our bodies entwined. This is where I wish the story ended......<br />
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Red flag no 3; MM woke up at 6 AM having a melt down that he got me pregnant<br />
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Saturday morning started in an emotional clusterfuck. MM shared that a woman tried to pin paternity on him seven years ago and he was traumatized. It had cost him a ton of money and even more emotional turmoil to find out he wasn't the father. He has since developed a phobia. I listened empathetically and told him I was willing to do whatever he needed to feel safe. He shook it off and said that he knew it was his shit and we went forward with our day. We went to the Golden Gate Bridge, Fisherman's Wharf, Musee Mechanique, saw the seals, drove down the world's most crooked street.....fun stuff.<br />
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Red flag no 4; MM FREAKED OUT SEVERAL MORE TIMES OVER THE PREGNANCY THING!!!! <br />
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I had my doctor's business card in my hand dialing my phone in order to get the morning after pill a few times during the course of the day. It seemed he had relaxed and we went back to the hotel when he told me to stop before I opened the gate. Stupidly, I thought he was going to kiss me. He brought up the morning after pill AGAIN. I ONCE AGAIN calmly sat down, and dialed my doctor. He was gone for the day. I then googled Planned Parenthood and realized you could buy the morning after pill over the counter. While I'm doing this, MM is RANTING about how he's not going to be trapped, I will NOT have his child etc. Ok, I snapped. Enough is enough and he had hit the limits of my patience, kindness and understanding that there is some mental short circuit in his head. He Googled pharmacies and began to walk in the direction of the nearest Walgreens. I told him I would go, get the morning after pill, run an errand I needed to do in The Haight and he could take care of his work and meet me later. I was seething and he could hear it, "are you angry?!?" he asked me. "Yes." I replied and he asked me why. "1. You are getting insulting now. You are calling me a liar 2. You could do a lot worse than to have me mother your child and you are acting as if I am scum. 3. You are almost 50 years old! This is YOUR issue and now you are making it mine.....all we had to do was get fucking condoms! and 4. I DON'T WANT YOUR FUCKING BABY! If i were pregnant this thing would have a date with a drain so fucking fast!! I don't want your money, I don't want to be a single mom, I don't want a child!!!!!!" Yeah, I lost it. <br />
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An hour and a half later, I texted MM and asked him if he wanted to meet me in the Haight. <br />
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Red Flag no 5; MM apparently doesn't appreciate how far he pushed me and was now actually angry with me<br />
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"Not after you stormed off like that I don't...." he replied. I called him and explained, "I don't know anyone that wouldn't get angry after a day like we have had. I needed to walk away from you because I was going to say something I would regret. I walked it out. Are you going to meet me?" He reluctantly agreed. He showed up at Hobson's Rum Bar and still had an attitude. I had bought a ukulele which he picked up and plunked on a bit, "guess this means you didn't run that other errand then huh?" He asked me. "So you're gonna be like this huh?" I said as I smacked the Walgreens receipt down on the table, "You owe me $48.31." He examined the bill, handed me $50, "You can keep the change. Can I have the package I just paid for?" I gave it to him, then opened it, took the pills out....I put one in my mouth, showed him it was on my tongue, took a swig of my beer, opened my mouth again to show him it was gone, "would you like to check my cheeks to make sure I didn't pocket it?" I asked? I read the package and told him the second pill should be taken in 12 hours.<br />
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Red Flag no 6; MM set the alarm and woke me up at 3:45 to take the second pill!<br />
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The rest of the weekend was uneventful. There wasn't as much as a held hand or a kissed cheek. There was some enlightening conversation. Over the course of the rest of Saturday and Sunday morning, it became evident to me that he has Augsburg's. What I had thought was him hiding a relationship, or just being a dick, or selfish really stems from the fact he has this disease. He is incapable of empathy, social norms and situations baffle him. He told me some personal and telling stories which made me come to pity him. He is an incredibly successful man, as many Augsburg's patients are because they can stay task-focused. He is gifted in math and music. He told me he has never been happier than he is at this point of his life because he has distanced himself from people and spends his time with his algorithms. The frustration I had with him is because I am analog and he is as digital as digital can be. 1 or 0, on or off, yes or no.....no gray areas. <br />
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I had to remind myself that I shouldn't get upset. He didn't check in on me to see if I were ok after taking the morning after pill. I texted him in a way I thought would resonate, and I think it did. "The social convention would be for you to check in on me......" He replied and seemed relieved because he admitted he didn't know what to do. "You are wonderful...." He texted me last night before once again falling off the grid.<br />
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This marks the end of me messing with my ghosts. I got an answer, not the one I was expecting at all. It cost me $1500 bucks, several days of hormone induced illness (with risk of stroke,) and the death of a fairytale to get it. Was it worth it to find out MM is Rainman? No. I'm done sticking my hand in the flame......<br />
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<br />LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-49146132849431273702011-12-14T13:16:00.000-08:002011-12-14T13:17:21.667-08:00Crusty Old Geezer....Scrooged.According to my horoscope, my intuition is in top form today. My loneliness and confusion regarding love is top on my mind and this is the optimal time to open up with someone about my feelings with reference to the stars. Finally, I am about to give up on love. Just a little light message to take into my day. <br />
I needed to get out of my house, and out of my head according to Foodie. I am reflective while sipping some brazilian tea and observing the stream of hipsters that enter the Akasha coffee shop downtown Culver City. I'm sad and I know why; I am Manhattan Millionaire's West Coast booty call. There. I said it. Something wasn't sitting right with me and then I spoke to Mr. MBA last night. "Come on. You know what it is......" I did, but I didn't want to admit it. "Is Manhattan Millionaire going out of his way to see you Kat? He has money correct? In all of the years you have been talking he could have gotten on a plane and visited you for the weekend." He's right. I tried weakly to object citing all of the complimentary things MM has said to me and how awkward and excited he is. All the nerdy sexting we've been doing. Mr. MBA patiently waiting for me to run out of defensive steam before replying, "He's doing what is necessary to get in your pants." Fuck. He is right. This is why he is my super secret male decoder ring. <br />
I spoke with my aunt later last night and she reminded me it was Christmas and I should go to church, that is where I will meet a nice man. She also had some of our good ol' fashioned Germanic pragmatic advice for me; "Quit aiming for the stars. Settle. Quit wasting time on past loves or worrying about the future. Live in the now. Go sing some Christmas carols." I hung up and cried, not channeling the reason for the season but Scrooge. Maybe she's right I should settle....my janitor did just ask me out.<br />
I texted Manhattan Millionaire a frowny face and over a very brief text exchange I told him I'd had a rough day. "You're brilliant and thoughtful and hilarious and wildly irresistible, if that's any consolation. :)" Was the last text I got last night. I cursed at my vagina for the power it wields over men.<br />
My intuition tells me that I must have the convo with MM and bail on San Francisco in Jan. My loneliness is saying suck it up and just have fun and tap HIS ass. I wonder which one will prevail. Bah humbug.<br />
<br />LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-30810471345397501542011-12-14T11:39:00.001-08:002011-12-14T11:39:53.777-08:00\LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-37616203893646258562011-12-01T10:37:00.001-08:002011-12-01T10:38:17.656-08:00Hope for the best...tuck and coverIt finally happened! Manhattan Millionaire is coming to California……it will be in almost two months at the end of January. I'm not sure my little heart will be able to last that long. I am again smitten. He is wonderful. I just need a strong reality check that beyond our (sure to be magical) weekend together in San Francisco, it is extremely unlikely anything will develop. He lives in Manhattan. I live in Los Angeles. Drag man. He is my Abelard and I love our chat affair we have going on. He called me Monday and during our conversation reminded me it has been (gulp!) 27 years since we last laid eyes on each other. I had lunch with AppleBottom yesterday and she was sugar coating the fact that I am a bit of an odd bird. "Kooky" is her code for weird. Her advice was to keep up with my activities…."continue on with that "kooky" class you're taking. You will meet someone that appreciates your, er, unique way." "You mean my improv class?" I questioned, not thinking that was very freaky. "Yeah, that…." she said. Hm. I spent the rest of the day contemplating what she was saying, I am so "kooky" that I will never connect with a normal man. By the time Mr. MBA called me after work, I was spinning. "I just have to not be myself!" I blurted out when I answered the phone. "Am I really that weird?" He started laughing, "you are going to work yourself into a fit by your date friday….." I think he started to reconsider our friendship when I told him the date was nearly two months away. As any good friend would, Mr. MBA reassured me I am not weird but interesting. I hope he is right. I have almost two months to become Kat 2.0, the best version of myself I can be. Eradicating "weird" would be a hopeless task considering all of the other work that must be done. Manhattan Millionaire asked me Monday why I am not dating now. "I want something exceptional." was my honest response. Is it foolish to hope the karmic wheel is turning and it is my time for something exceptional? I have worked so hard and made so many painful decisions over the last year. It would be nice to think that the universe would acknowledge that by throwing a hot, smart and successful man my way. Throw this girl a bone!LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-1457637589941980112011-10-31T10:12:00.000-07:002011-10-31T10:12:33.424-07:00HalloWeHoHalloween is my favorite holiday! This year, I dressed as the ring leader of the Dysfunctional Three Ring Circus me and my two besties have become known as. The quintesential fag hag that I am, I have retreated to the safety and security that is my gay family. I characterize hanging out in West Hollywood as being starving at a huge buffet where you can't eat anything. I will probably not get hurt, but I will not likely get laid either.
The trade off is a shit ton of drinking.....couple of weeks ago my GayHusband bashed his head on a bathtub after a night of drinking and ended up with three stitches in his cute noggin. At brunch, our friends wanted to see his "bloody gash" and I commented that he was becoming more and more like me every day. (ewwwww! was the resounding response to that comment.) My fav lesbian, Daddy cut her finger tip off while drunk cooking...."that is like a lesbian circumcision!" I commented....(again ew.) I've recently face planted in my friend TheWitch's garden after a vodka fueled evening. I landed with a decorative rock in the small of my back. TheWitch noted I more 'wilted' into the dirt not spilling a drop of my cocktail and I got golf claps. The rush of people to help me was met with my desire to just stay there for a while. I took a mini dirt nap. We have had sprained ankles, knocked out teeth......it is dangerous out there.
When not drinking I'm getting my improv on at The Groundlings. I've been feathering my nest which is looking amazing. I'm continuing my therapy which seems to be working. I just cut out International Playboy. The drink he promised repeatedly never materialized and that saying about never making someone a priority that makes you and option was resonating. The therapy must be working....that smacks of a modicum of self-esteem. Woah.
Eventually I will have to venture out into the straight dating world again. For the moment, I am enjoying the fuckery that ensues in our Family Circus! Happy Halloween and Slut it UP!!!!
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR43MAvXlqvFkAXFg7ndQBoONNZRuCCUHQunkSPezigRYEMFXsAGbdKiG2R3KuVfut4u_QBc1KRi4VBCdLPxUvf2LeepmsW-oxxblw0k8aUnRTXMsN54G6ZoOPrm2l7Xb5VP134A/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="226" width="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR43MAvXlqvFkAXFg7ndQBoONNZRuCCUHQunkSPezigRYEMFXsAGbdKiG2R3KuVfut4u_QBc1KRi4VBCdLPxUvf2LeepmsW-oxxblw0k8aUnRTXMsN54G6ZoOPrm2l7Xb5VP134A/s400/images.jpeg" /></a></div>LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-27548152145479582652011-08-29T23:14:00.000-07:002011-08-29T23:37:59.031-07:00Save a Ho HELLZ No!I am far from perfect. If you know me in real life you would know I spend a respectable amount of time beating myself up. I do tons of stupid shit yet I try to be better. I actually put in the effort.
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<br />As I get healthier, I shed those around me that are toxic. I find others are invested in keeping me weak, alcoholic, scared.....God forbid I get better, my "friends" feel worse about themselves.
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<br />Dare I say it...I'M HAPPY! I'M FUCKING HAPPY! I am living in a drama free zone. I have men courting me. I hike a lot. I made it through my audition (with 16 professional actors!) into the Groundling's core improv program. I have money in the bank.
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<br />There is a bittersweet quality to leaving friends behind. You want them to be the best they can be and hope they share that wish for you. One of my closest friends for the last 15 years has some major problems. She does/did drugs. I do not want her in my orbit anymore. I can't deal with it. She has turned another mutual friend against me....and last night I said something brutal; if you want a coke whore in your orbit...fine. Please respect I do not. She mentioned this to the other woman that texted me this; "Coke whore? You are such a pathetic loser piece of shit. No wonder you don't have a friend or a lover. Thank God I removed you from my life. I have been blessed with so much happiness and love since then. I hope you rot in your selfish pathetic life." Yup, sounds like someone well adjusted eh? Sticking up for myself is a new thing.
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<br />Realizing a friendship has reached it's potential is difficult. Realizing the limitations of those we love (including ourselves) is a lot of painful work. Bootylicious calls me "Captain Save a Ho." I might be short sighted to realize at the moment that the Ho that I have to save is myself. The time to let go of self-destructive behavior is now. LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-49006461414763909422011-06-17T17:03:00.000-07:002011-06-17T17:18:49.977-07:00wake up Kat!This weekend I was having a hard time watching Hulu on my iPad. The reason; I could see my reflection in the screen.<br /><br />I haven't been able to look at myself for years. When putting on make-up I give myself the "side eye." I avoid glances of myself in mirrors or windows. Right now, I am attempting to tilt my MacBook screen in such a way I can see what I'm typing and avoid my image.<br /><br />I have not been able to look myself in the eye for a very long time. Perhaps it is the therapy; talk, psycho, hypno, energy work, life coach...blah blah...or the drugs that are making me brave. I think the beginning is shedding people that remind me of the worst parts of me. The people with which you surround yourself are some of the most telling reflections of them all.<br /><br />It is a Friday night and I have no plans. No hope for plans actually. I am naked before myself. I'm not likely to drown in my image. Oddly, it is my image that has been drowning me I'm realizing.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-72937299247396787702011-03-30T12:30:00.000-07:002011-03-30T12:48:20.810-07:00racist meoh the dramz....<br /><br /><br />I was accused of being a racist last night. I am part of a community now, sad isn't it?<br /><br /><br />I'm sober. It sucks ass. Mornings are better yet........minute by minute it is challenging. I want to get super fucked up now. I won't. Sigh.<br /><br /><br />My sober buddy, Corset, called me on it today. My hot neighbor asked her if she was my sponsor. Alcoholics ANONYMOUS dumbass! She isn't. He had an idiot savant moment where he recalled her name from me saying I was going to an AA meeting a month ago with "Laura." Luck of the draw, my besties from home are Lori, Laura and Laura. (when in doubt...)<br /><br />Took a Xanax this morning. Not working. I still hate you brown/asian/jew/um..whatever peopleLA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-62811017124146547202011-03-28T21:35:00.001-07:002011-03-28T21:56:49.566-07:00Ahhhhh! I feel as if I can once again stretch my arms! I spilled a beer on my old laptop, apparently they don't like them as much as I do. All I have had is my work laptop which has been in the IT department and lord only knows what software they loaded. Today I bought myself my personal Mac Book pro. Awesome to be able to surf porn again without fear of being fired by the Christian coalition I work for. It is also awesome to be able to plunk down $1300 hundo without blinking an eye. CASH baby!<br /><br />I continue down my path of self-improvement which is annoying and time-consuming. It is yielding results. I am looking healthy. I am acting healthy. I am making good decisions. I think I may have found my future ex..... I saw the Jew today as I drove home, waiting for Big Love at his transportation comittee meeting he said she didn't take part in. It solidifies I have made the right decision; he is lying when his mouth is moving. Rather than being upset or unwraveling or popping a Xanax I thought, "right...of course." Hideous bitch.<br /><br />Today I signed up for an improv class and bought a new computer. Fuck them and their Charles Manson Family. I deserve better. I am actually beginning to believe that now.<br /><br />Tonight I surf porn and type "vagina vagina vagina" because I can. So many things are feeling right and great right now. Over the last two years I have really learned about unconditional love. I have NOT been lovable yet I'm getting my head out of my ass and am seeing some familiar faces. The view (and air) are better from this vantage point. I am so grateful.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-18390897610015079142011-02-11T13:48:00.001-08:002011-02-11T14:12:25.723-08:00something stinks......<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXpgxJKqvwanMOBCqSNCO1hB59qRES79TEqtE_Se906tAQYaE0JlBs_Bb9VN-eUlHLV6KVytQdX8uh4S6eZfvpeQpdjeFbZ6Q7TMYPE1a3FY8k40vV4T4RWtFr4TiptZFNkapvQ/s1600/shitpile.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXpgxJKqvwanMOBCqSNCO1hB59qRES79TEqtE_Se906tAQYaE0JlBs_Bb9VN-eUlHLV6KVytQdX8uh4S6eZfvpeQpdjeFbZ6Q7TMYPE1a3FY8k40vV4T4RWtFr4TiptZFNkapvQ/s400/shitpile.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572557753668418738" /></a><br />I'm adamant that do-overs in relationships are always a very bad idea. Even so, I find myself in the middle of just that. As a threshold matter, whatever character flaws which caused you to dump them to begin with are likely still very present. This is what I am re-discovering with Big Love. <br /><br />I wanted to believe the many promises he made to me while crying and begging me to come back. He went out with the Jew with a vengeance while we were split to humiliate me and hurt me. My hand made dining room table he promised me last Christmas was made and given to the Korean as her gift. Big Love does not understand why I am upset, actually angry that I do not see this as a "positive." He loved me so much he went ahead and made the table in spite of my leaving him. I replied, "You couldn't just buy her a Coach bag??" Yeah, I'm pissed. With tears in his eyes he promised to make me a better one as he now knows what he's doing.<br /><br />Yesterday, I found the chairs I wanted on sale so I told him I would measure the chair heights to accommodate this amazing table, full of love which he was going to make for me. "Oh. I can't get around to that for months. Busy with work." Of course you are dick. I bought the table today. He is full of shit.<br /><br />This is polyamory for you; do for yourself, be by yourself, live for yourself. He has broken his word on other critical issues but claims he never made such promises. Conveniently forgetful. In the meantime, I went to a club by myself...the same ones with the same people that he trotted the Jew in front of like the ugly horse faced show pony she is saying God knows what about me. I won't lie, I was nervous. Everyone was kind, compassionate...wondered where I had been. I faced yet another fear.<br /><br />Oddly, I am just fine buying this table and going out alone because at least there is possibility. With Big Love the writing is on the wall. I want to do do all over this do-over.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-89653424640001881042011-01-26T16:57:00.000-08:002011-01-26T17:15:24.749-08:00NamasteI'm having a very New Age moment and I am about to make myself barf. I've had a great day, I'm actually feeling that once familar feeling "happiness" today. The thing I found most remarkable about this was how I experienced other people; as happy. <br /><br />I am going through theraputic hypnosis and he had me do a visualization Monday. I was to visualize standing in a fallow field of dirt. Desolate, devoid of any life whatsover. I pulled a flag out of the dirt which had my name on it and walked over an imaginary line in the dirt into a lush landscape. I planted my flag there. I felt the lovely breeze washing over me and the dappled sunlight on my skin. I did a yoga pose, my favorite balance pose, Tree Pose. I was so peaceful and full of light and love. A tear fell down my cheek.<br /><br />Today I have been reminded of how I was actually intended to be in the world. I am a light and source of happiness to many. I bring food and company to my old lady neighbor. First on the scene with ice cream, movies and jammies to my friend that just broke off a relationship. Julie MacCoy socially on my Love Boat bringing so many different people together that eventually become friends. Beloved daughter. Star employee. Best friend. True love.<br /><br />In my complete selfishness I hurt myself but today I realize just how much I have hurt others that have come to depend on me and love me. I am coming back from the darkness.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-61755471495412887932011-01-09T09:14:00.000-08:002011-01-09T10:28:34.722-08:00Blue sky ahead<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjckYUlc8HWCRFrgBm0sJNvpjo_8Nd8w_dNndQ9t8xjE28ArVw1UOGzToIPEzyjGP02U64JRDUo408PODhZk2JEOOEmoHFkzc1MdSoQL6DmN8zw_f7Gp7jDNQE1ofCx1DGQJqgwQ/s1600/nautical-star-tattoos.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjckYUlc8HWCRFrgBm0sJNvpjo_8Nd8w_dNndQ9t8xjE28ArVw1UOGzToIPEzyjGP02U64JRDUo408PODhZk2JEOOEmoHFkzc1MdSoQL6DmN8zw_f7Gp7jDNQE1ofCx1DGQJqgwQ/s400/nautical-star-tattoos.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560246356999259874" /></a><br />I survived the storm in spite of the last eight months being more like a squall. Always expending energy; never moving forward, never back more or less bobbing in place being beaten down by external forces. My structural integrity is compromised and there is more than a little bit of cosmetic damage. The exterior is more simply fixed with new window trimmings, a bit of elbow grease and care. The hull is a different matter. Everything rests upon having a strong internal structure. That is where my focus is today.<br /><br />I started therapy. First time in my life I've felt the need to reach out for help. Today is day nine of putting myself in dry dock; no more drinking. I would like to say forever but I'm just not ready to make that commitment as it seems so daunting. Right now my goal is to make it through January but if I'm very honest with myself, I know I have to quit forever. <br /><br />Over the last year and a half with Big Love I haven't slept, eaten, developed a wicked alcohol dependency and have had massive panic attacks. I've become a mere shell of who I am. I'm 5'9 and a size 2 which is ridiculous. I shake all the time, my thinking has been clouded and my reasoning fueled with jealousy, competitiveness and hatred. My moral compass is spinning. I need to find my way back home.<br /><br />I hadn't spoken to Big Love for two months. In spite of my hearing from him constantly, hearing how he was taking the Ugly Girl everywhere with him (places he thought I would be so he could rub it in cruelly) I was doing better. Over Christmas I made a critical error by speaking to him. He promised me anything I wanted to come back, he cried and begged. It didn't take very long for him to return to his natural delusional state. He immediately reminded me why I cannot be with him. Although he said he was heartbroken over my loss and could not bear to date, after I rebuffed him he sent me a picture of a 24 year old fetish model he supposedly had a date with. He told me he gave my Christmas present away to another woman. He told me he would not dump the Jew. He hung up on me like a 13 year old girl would. Incessant texting. Melodramatic multi-page emails. Showing up at my place uninvited, three times. He is a trigger and I drank heavily over Christmas week. <br /><br />Detox was a bitch. The only symptoms I did not enjoy were hallucinations, seizures and death. I white knuckled it through the headaches, sweating, insomnia and nausea. In the calm after the storm I am enjoying sleep for the first time in a year and a half. I am thinking more clearly. I have had moments of genuine happiness. This is just the first week. The water is still choppy but for the first time in a very long time I TRUST there is smooth sailing ahead.<br /><br />Placing myself in dry dock is also a pretty exciting time. I am allowing myself the chance to thoughtfully walk the beach and examine every smooth rock and shell both in front and behind me. I am setting the course for the rest of my life. I have been on auto-pilot for too long and I am now consciously mapping out my journey. My therapist is my North Star that is safely guiding me back home. Happy New Years!LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-38670099221624737822010-12-06T18:10:00.000-08:002010-12-06T18:28:29.289-08:00I'm a mousey.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguQ02Xahrd3InSS-6MDQ0TIVVD4mynelCeoKX5Yg9FljwmiOUkFGEosZf-nszEQJQKsH50nJnch724PiUyyHKfFuGIqGTfnjaZ0EsRxYFNiSGOgB8SEpYTn4IZG1o5rgjVmpHhEg/s1600/cute_mouse.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 348px; height: 341px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguQ02Xahrd3InSS-6MDQ0TIVVD4mynelCeoKX5Yg9FljwmiOUkFGEosZf-nszEQJQKsH50nJnch724PiUyyHKfFuGIqGTfnjaZ0EsRxYFNiSGOgB8SEpYTn4IZG1o5rgjVmpHhEg/s400/cute_mouse.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547761490890128706" /></a><br />On my dating profile I put, "Bonnie searching for her Clyde." Watching Dexter and he points out that they both end up in a bullet laded car. Maybe I ought to re-think this desired end result.<br /><br />Big Love still remains in my orbit. I still search. I just gave a potential date the 3rd degree and scared him off. Did I scare him away because I'm nutty or because I busted this married guy trolling? I don't think I've ever posted this before but please excuse me if I don't remember my own rants. In psych 101 you learn about horrific tests done on mice. One of them was if a mouse gets a food pellet pressing on the bar which delivers the sweet ambrosia of mouse life force every time, he presses when he's hungry. He gets his food pellet, eats it then hits the bar again when he's hungry. NOW if the mousey hits the bar and the food pellet comes at random intervals he'll hit the bar incessantly to the point he'll work harder getting the food pellet than the calories he expends hitting that bar. He dies. <br /><br />I'm a mousey. I'm hitting the proverbial bar on every level; personally, professionally, emotionally. I would just like to have some predictable results for my efforts. Besides death.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-16426088153162397912010-11-07T12:55:00.000-08:002010-11-07T13:06:43.556-08:00It's not easy being cheesy.....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-7B1PQC4dY9VhiAKAxFy66mFyOxFuPmA_PTKkM47BHD8soHNtijVHgYeM9ALuum8G1P-Nx9x0NobPA_Q9zcLGVz8OCI4iJCoxwsz_wKcq0Lzl3XGTBn_kUyO8UhTvE0FkDtp-Q/s1600/macncheese.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 273px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-7B1PQC4dY9VhiAKAxFy66mFyOxFuPmA_PTKkM47BHD8soHNtijVHgYeM9ALuum8G1P-Nx9x0NobPA_Q9zcLGVz8OCI4iJCoxwsz_wKcq0Lzl3XGTBn_kUyO8UhTvE0FkDtp-Q/s400/macncheese.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536914720377406930" /></a><br /><br />Here is how I know I'm healing.... I was speaking to an old lover of mine, The Animator today. We've been friends for years now. He reminded me of the last time we were in bed together, laughing our asses off listening to Rhapsody, 80's music. What he had forgotten is he pulled out a Sharpie and drew all over my body. Arrows pointing to dirty places, bulls eyes and the like. In a ultimate bachlorette moment I had burned my stomach from eating mac and cheese out of the hot pot naked. He drew dancing noodles all around the burn.<br /><br />I have great people in my life. That memory made me really happy today. I'm going to be just fine.....LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-21759020849718705582010-11-07T09:03:00.000-08:002010-11-07T09:31:28.739-08:00buh bye Big LoveI just read my last post. I wish I would have stuck to my guns and stayed away from Big Love. I didn't. Since July, things got worse and worse. I'm not proud of a lot of my behavior. I developed a rash from anxiety, my hair was falling out for a while, I was drinking too much and I found a level of nasty of which I never thought myself capable. He broke into my apartment. He beat the shit out of me, twice.<br /><br />I'm trying to be kind to myself, the heart wants what it wants. I was on the brink of losing absolutely everything to be with him; my dignity being just a small chip in the game. <br /><br />This time is for real. I will not go back. I recognize him for the lying preditor that he is. It hit me like a lightning bolt during our last conversation; I will NOT defer my happiness for one more second. He made endless promises about events in the future...he'll marry me in a year, he'll live with me when I move closer, he will dump the Jew in six months....NONE of these things ever occurred. He told me I was missing the lesson in all of this, I was supposed to be developing patience. I have to agree with that. The lesson I learned was a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush....I may be alone at the moment but at least I have a better chance at grabbing that bird. I may not know if "the one" is out there, but I do know that the boobie prize with Big Love would be to be at the head of his creepy family with him and enduring the freaky Jew for the rest of my life. No thank you.<br /><br />Everything is moving forward in a positive fashion at the moment. I have a new job, new apartment, new furniture. I payed off over eight grand in debt last month! I have six grand coming back from my tax returns! I will have savings again! Most importantly I'm starting to feel happy. I'm not the broken one because I think his lifestyle is wrong, he is. He cannot open himself up to one person and deal with all of the problems and joys that come from really diving deeply emotionally with someone. He is happy surrounding himself with multiple women picking and choosing from them as if he were in a cafeteria. I want it all.<br /><br />I'm back to kissing frogs. My prince is out there somewhere.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-61331325431183245462010-07-18T16:54:00.000-07:002010-07-18T18:41:02.813-07:00Free at last, free at last!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioWJgZQ6t9gA8FOxKC_NYsilWzTRznUgN9QwZP5wImjEGcHUh7InXf24MwR9hg5-xDZjma9mlhvy0BD6KkUxziS40P6KtPZJ6xpUo6MK99Gtk0RPPoiI56OhYxQ8okX0BODkKevA/s1600/elisewithmakeup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 91px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioWJgZQ6t9gA8FOxKC_NYsilWzTRznUgN9QwZP5wImjEGcHUh7InXf24MwR9hg5-xDZjma9mlhvy0BD6KkUxziS40P6KtPZJ6xpUo6MK99Gtk0RPPoiI56OhYxQ8okX0BODkKevA/s400/elisewithmakeup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495425509046584306" /></a><br />Ten months into polyamory and I am finally willing to call uncle. It is a crock of shit really only benefiting Big Love. I will say he did his best to indoctrinate me into the philosophy and lifestyle. He is committed, I will give him that. Over time and with much reading I realized why it was so great for him; he was using a well thought out and somewhat noble philosophy to cloak what is really just being a manwhore. He was using this construct to justify getting his dick wet wherever, whenever because it was all above the board and under some "ethical" umbrella. <br /><br />The last ten months have been one of the most intense and passionate love affairs of my life. There is no doubt in my mind that we are wildly in love and it is genuine. I finally found my soul mate and of course, he is a polygamist. <br /><br />I think I could actually be alright with polyamory. One of the women he is with is sweetness and light and I have grown found of her as well. We have been making plans for the future which include a house with an avocado tree for the three of us. We've been hiking, Easter egg dying, cooking, museums...the things families do together and I enjoy her company. The other one however is a nightmare!<br /><br />A couple of weeks ago Big Love had the bright idea that I would spend the entire weekend with The Jew who I HATE. His thinking was by forcing us to spend concentrated time together, we would get over any ill will we share. I lied and said I couldn't get a dog sitter Friday because there was no fucking way I was going to be subjected to this fuckery for three days. The mood in the car on the way over was pretty mellow, we listened to music and talked. Very nice and mellow vibe on the way there which was immediately shattered when the dark cloud of negative Tasmanian energy that is the Jew entered into the car, "what a horrible day, pull the seat up your squishing me!!! My phone! I don't have my phone we have to go...oh there's my phone." she whined. I find her affect grating as hell. She looked as I've come to expect from her, no make-up with some odd meth face freckly things going on, the ever present sneer, wild mane of badly dyed curly red hair, and her ferret teeth. She is as thin as an anorexic (which Big Love has held her body up to me as an ideal of "hot and sexy." I was going down this path for a hot minute myself.) I've shown her pictures to several of my friends and gotten responses which range from "meth addicted tranny" to "really ugly Amy Winehouse (got this at least three times btw.) Big Love informed her we had not had the chance to pack the picnic so we were going to stop at a Bristol Farms on the way. "I haaatee Bristol Faaarms! There's nothing good there!" whined the Jew. "Ok," replied Big Love, "where would you like to stop between here and the Ford Theater? Anything you want." "I don't knooowwww!! I never come over hereeeeee....." She was continuing on when I noticed a Gelson's and suggested we go there as they usually have a pretty good prepared foods section. We pulled in and IMMEDIATELY upon entering I watched a 41 year old woman throw a complete tantrum like a 4 year old. She bitched that there was nothing she wanted, nothing jumped out at her. Big Love suggested looking at the prepared sandwiches and she sniveled that, "they all have cheeeeezzeeee!! I have a dairy allergy!" I wanted to tell the bitch to pick the fucking cheese off then but suggested the salad bar. She said she didn't want it and proceeded to stamp her foot and do a boo boo lip in the middle of the market. I asked Big Love if he wanted to split a rice pudding with me and the Jew butted in, "Iiii caaaann't have thaaaat!!!! I have a daaairy aaalergy!! There's nothing for dessert for me here!!!" I looked at Big Love and said, "are you fucking kidding me? Not even fifteen minutes into this and already a melt down?!?" <br /><br />The rest of the evening went similarly bad. The Jew has no social skills so I ended up basically ignoring her. After the film, Big Love locked us in the car to "clear the air." Yet another genius idea. Hot, humid, uncomfortable on every level he pressured us to tell our feelings. I am not proud, at one point I broke blurting out, "I can't stand her! I don't like her and she is weird!!! WTF do you want from me?!?!?!" Yeah. Not good. He prattled on spewing platitudes for a good hour afterward with neither me or the Jew saying a word. Finally he took us for tea. Oh goodie, more conversation. <br /><br />When I say she is weird, I mean she is FUCKING WEIRD! At tea, she went over her massive health history, starting with a spinal tap at 8, car accident in 2002 where she needed wrist surgery but couldn't afford it, then onto cancer. Big Love said, "Kat, you've had cancer too right?" ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???? This interested the Jew, feeling engaged she went on about how she had cervical cancer, had surgery, took a year off to recuperate. Big Love prodded, "Kat, you had cervical cancer too right?" ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Feeling kinship over this deadly disease the Jew asked, "Oh really?!? How did you handle it?" I replied, "I had it twice. Had two surgeries. Never missed a day of work. Never talk about it." Then I gave Big Love stink eye. I've never had such a miserable night of conversation where I would rally around cancer as a topic. Plus it's very personal and I was pissed he betrayed my trust.<br /><br />We left and I felt a sense of dread regarding the hotel room situation. Creepiness escalated; move awkward conversation, figuring out sleeping arrangements...dear lord did she bring pjs??? We chatted about the film we saw in the car, which my friend from high school directed. I was really just trying to cope. I was very relieved when we pulled up in front of her house. Mercifully, he had cut the evening short. He walked her in and I smoked. Praise fucking Jesus.<br /><br />Over the last ten months there has been shitloads of drama surrounding her role. I layed it out, her or me. Today he picked her. I am just grateful this is finally over. He can take his Charles Manson family values and shove them up his ass. At my core I am a traditional and conservative girl that just wants a man to love me. ME. JUST ME. I feel wonderfully loved and connected, even protected when I am with Big Love but it breaks my heart knowing when he is over doing the same thing for the Jew. I am not laid back or cool enough to share the man I believe is my soul mate. Perhaps I will find another. Until then, I will embrace my true self; I am the Dating Misanthrope.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-79567879198220777702009-12-22T20:27:00.000-08:002009-12-22T20:56:00.463-08:00a whore is a whorehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMy6X5cQul8<br /><br /><br />My fellow lovers, I have been blogging elsewhere as I cannot talk about my debauched love affair here.<br /><br />I am totally in love with Big Love, aka. Poly Guy.<br /><br />After he dumped me in October we renegotiated our situation. I am actually totally cool. He has shared honestly with me and now I know the lay of the land.<br /><br />I was out with Doc last Saturday for lunch. He lives with a woman and recently bought a home with her yet he incessantly screws around. He was giving me shit about my choice to be with Big Love. I am not a fan of hypocrisy so I called him on his shit. Big Love loves me, and he loves two other women. He is honest about it. Doc screws around, doesn't make connections and gets off on the duplicity. Big Love is honest. He loves me and there are two other women. We all matter to him. It isn't about getting his dick wet.<br /><br />If Big Love were expecting me to be loyal to him I would say no fucking way Jose. In this relationship I am finding a freedom I never thought you could have. He is my primary. I love the shit out of him and vice verse. I am still free to explore other people. The core is my loving of who he is. I am still coming to terms with that alone.<br /><br />My longest relationship was 11 years. Yup, 11 fucking years. When you are with someone this long, you know their every move. It becomes tedious. Sex every night i the same the same the fucking same...it's not like you are suddenly going to bust out some fucking rock star new move. You know what they will order at the restaurant, how they will valet the car...which team they watch and root for. It really gets boring as shit.<br /><br />I am making a bold statement; I am a polyamourous woman. I can maintain multiple serious relationships at one time as can Big Love. He is my primary. Everything flows so beautifully from there.<br /><br />so you straight Christians that are my blog readers, just letting you know where I've been and what I have been doing. I hope you are well.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-27810917067679559692009-11-09T12:32:00.000-08:002009-11-09T12:51:21.829-08:00such a double edged sword......I saw PolyGuy last Thursday after a three week separation. He came over and I made a fabulous dinner. We had a wonderful time catching up. I love him. If it weren't for this whole polyamory bullshit thing I would be head over heels. I just don't know if I can do it. I deserve better than that. It is hard when I am looking over a candlelit table, laughing and happy to think of anything but capturing the moment. Sunday, he picked me up and took me to Philipe's in downtown Los Angeles. This is a restaurant famous for having invented the french dip sandwich. The lines were long but the wait was made bearable because I hung on him as we laughed and talked. Lunch was perfect and we went to a sex store and picked up some goodies. Back to my place to give them a test drive. We had a perfect day together, something between us has changed and it is so natural and, well, right. He commented that we have moved into a new phase, that he felt it too. So why am I so bloody blue today? In my heart of hearts I know it isn't right for me. Can this or will this lead anywhere except heartbreak for me.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-83092064645999567572009-10-29T09:33:00.000-07:002009-10-30T11:04:26.354-07:00Devil's Playground<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg940zdnIvGJyY9HZzSpl5Cxw1AdhYIldHvnHXJXmodimocHuwZVPX2FglYc9DaBigwIyH4k8_OD9uj5veSCG5hNXkYQtauM3RP9BFfwnPE4pCqrMhSDu1GuKxGhWbjKJnQg56ldA/s1600-h/Devil.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 378px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg940zdnIvGJyY9HZzSpl5Cxw1AdhYIldHvnHXJXmodimocHuwZVPX2FglYc9DaBigwIyH4k8_OD9uj5veSCG5hNXkYQtauM3RP9BFfwnPE4pCqrMhSDu1GuKxGhWbjKJnQg56ldA/s400/Devil.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398066637375929474" /></a><br />Last week had to be the worst week I have ever had professionally. Monday night, I was having mad panic attacks and the Xanax just wasn't touching them. At some point, I decided full on sedation was the only thing I could do and I took an Ambian and was out by ten. 12:30 comes around and Poly guy called me (I have no recollection of this.) Evidently, I said something he didn't like and he dumped me. Tuesday morning I wake up and think, wow...what a bad dream. I thought I had dreamed being dumped until about three hours into my day when I noticed the completed call in my phone log. D'oh! For the best in that I don't think I can handle a Big Love sort of lifestyle. I was surprisingly miserable over it and my work week continued to suck heavy metal ass. Even my iPod conspired to make me miserable. Every romantic and emo song seemed to come up in the shuffle. I looked at it and cried, "et tu iPod?!?!?" Friday night, I went to Freakishly Tall Guy's house where he made me an amazing dinner followed by a steady stream of Sex Crack. Upon arrival home at 2AM PolyGuy was iming me. He wants me back. Sure, why not. I never see him so it isn't like it impacts my life in any significant fashion. He left to visit his parents for a week and we will see if he steps up his game when he gets back. Yesterday, he asked me to do something that would permanently alter my body.....FOREVER. He balked when I replied with a HELLZ NO! Stating I was only willing to submit to him on my terms....he didn't like it when I told him that I really needed him to have a little skin in the game and reminded him he dumped me last week. Not inspiring much security or confidence in our "relationship" or whatever you call this..... in the meantime, I have a date tonight with PopStar. I am sick of sitting around with my thumb up my ass not getting any (sex, companionship, consideration, time.) I will have to remind PolyGuy what they say about idle hands.......LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-60583976072176708912009-10-19T23:34:00.000-07:002009-10-29T10:33:50.915-07:00could not be right before my eyes?Recently, what has caught me most off-guard is how much I am loved/coveted. Facebook has been a mad ego boost for the girl. EVERY single guy I knew in high school chats with me, and eventually admits their hs (and lingering) crush on me. I am still retarded this way, I never get when guys like me. My picker is terminally broken. <br /><br />Today was a really bad day, both personally and professionally. I wanted to kill myself until Mr. MBA told me I should just move home and marry him. We have talked every day for the last eight years I have been out here. We have been friends for fifteen... Tonight he knew I was super unhappy, vulnerable and fucked up. He said, "Kat, I will always take care of you. I should be your first call if you are in trouble. No strings. I love you."<br /><br />I love him too. What a fucked up fucking day.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-39665859662007288102009-09-29T09:27:00.000-07:002009-09-29T10:02:08.227-07:00I dunno about this......<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMHiK1tMMTa7MCdGfx3_zotSPo3S-xQtnWGC1vvNn-DPGD09FH-qu3bH2uSi8yT-FNl0sDyv68OTYM68UcFIwhRyExCFKtq5n6hBIBKmX9_OrQ-JcBsPPH0B5t2NBKpvUJQtBbA/s1600-h/Polygamy--7831.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 378px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMHiK1tMMTa7MCdGfx3_zotSPo3S-xQtnWGC1vvNn-DPGD09FH-qu3bH2uSi8yT-FNl0sDyv68OTYM68UcFIwhRyExCFKtq5n6hBIBKmX9_OrQ-JcBsPPH0B5t2NBKpvUJQtBbA/s400/Polygamy--7831.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386935139480074866" /></a><br /><br />I have not been having a good go of it lately. After falling off my shoes then shitting my pants, I developed the most remarkable urinary tract infection. In the meantime, I decided to get involved with a polygamist. I don't think this is going to work for me. The idea of having another woman around to clean is appealing (I have long said I would like to have my own wife) I think that I just may be too much of an attention whore to find satisfaction in this dynamic. I have seen him only once in the last two weeks (which isn't entirely his fault as I did have fire in the hole and a trip to Mexico during this time period.) I am not experimenting with different lifestyles to find myself even more alone and isolated which seems to be what is occurring now. Plus, he sucks in bed. He is a humper and a prolific one at that. All signs point to experiment fail. We haven't delved very deep into this relationship and I find myself already feeling sad, neglected and alone. I also have a lot of time to fill.....apparantly I spend a good deal of time dating, chatting with boys or fishing for more of them. I'm bored as shit with nothing to back fill these dating activities. Tonight PolyGuy is coming over. Not quite sure what is worse, a doll collector that is honest about his intentions or a guy that cloaks the same activities in concern, love and promises of "forever." I will let you know Posse.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-11066015102126134392009-09-16T16:40:00.000-07:002009-09-16T17:06:50.160-07:00double ended volcanoFriday night, I twisted my ankle wearing rediculously high heels while out with my gays in WeHo. I was fine until Saturday morning when I found myself in the emergency room being X-rayed, splinted and shot in the ass with morphene. As the doc approached me with the needle I said, "Isn't that a little extreme shooting me with (shot) mooorreephene...helloooooo lover. Where ya been all my life?" I spent the rest of the weekend popping pain pills, in and out of conciousness. It is a drug fuled blurr to be honest. Monday, I overslept for my company con call, fell asleep while on it and then slept a good portion of the day on the clock. I do not fare well with pain meds as Monday afternoon I started throwing up. The problem for me is there is no lead time. No tell-tale mouth watering, sweaty brow, churning stomach....you are just there and the next thing you know you are spewing the Niagra Falls of vomit onto whatever happens to be in your path. This continued on until Tuesday when I mustered the nerve to leave my place. I did some work related errand. I was out at the UPS store when something really unexpected happened. I shit my pants. Same as the barfing. No warning. No burning. I ran out of the UPS store hoping nobody noticed and came home. No more incidents last night, phew. This morning I got up and took the dogs out. Shit my pants, more accurately shorts. Thank God I was wearing a long sweater or that would have been even more embarassing. I white knuckled it through the day as I had to take the train down to Orange County and sit in long meetings not knowing if my body would continue to rebel on me. MILFie and I were talking today and I expressed my fear. She said, "I hope your brought double of everything! And also some Pleasure Wipes would come in handy!" I limped through the day on my crutches fearful that every grumble and groan in my belly would lead to professional doom. You can imagine my relief when I got back on the train home without incident. I texted MILFie, "I didn't shit my pants today!! I rolled the dice and ate some cheese. LITERALLY a crapshoot!" yay! It dawned on me that I am either WAYYYYY too old or WAYYYY to young to be worrying about such things. At this stage of my life, I shouldn't give a shit.LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37304265.post-58819260792380538212009-09-05T23:14:00.000-07:002009-09-05T23:53:06.564-07:00One is silver and the other's gold....Who knew the Girl Scouts would still be relevant for this old bag? The song about making new friends and keeping the old is still quite apt. OriginalKat is genuINE, certified 14K gold friendness. We have been friends since grade school with a brief (9 or 10 year??) lapse in conversation. Humiliating gym uniforms and spin the bottle at Elm Place middle school. Deep psychic pubescent wounds that will never heal (thank you DM!) Getting high together at HPHS, travelled the world singing with the choir, forged our way into the world after college (me living on her sofa pretty much for a year afterward,) we were bridesmaids for one another. Great friends just have a short-hand. Years melt...she is uber mom to three beautiful boys. I was somewhat pissed that the older one didn't recognize me, he has met me...(running around in diapers at 1 1/2...but still!) The Husband is still that great amazing catch she recognized 14 years ago this Wednesday (bridesmaid and florist for her wedding. First event ever at the restored Navy Pier and it was just magical!) We spent the evening talking about past experiences, lost friends and current woes. The beautiful thing about it to me is that there is no wall..no representative. We just talked honestly. Two women. Two friends. <br /><br />The bar across the street from her apartment she so graciously allowed me to squat in after college in Chicago...above the Time Well (remember the rope fire ladder your dad bought you OriginalKat???) was call the Crash Palace (cherry bombs are deadly by the way.) Her fav tshirt is one from there...Elvis shoveling a fork full of pills into his mouth. I had that shirt too and lost it. I need to be more thoughtful with things I care about from my past. Love you OriginalKat! <br /><br />I found this review of the Crash Palace on the internets....seems appropriate as this is where we spent EVERY Wednesday for years;<br /><br />"The Crash Palace is dark. The people wear black. The music is hip. The music is loud. The drinks are cheap. The men's restroom is dirty. The Psychotronic Film Society presents B movies here once a week. There is no one here on weekdays until late. There is no cover any day of the week. There are images of Jesus on the red walls. You'll probably either really like this place or dislike it intensely."<br /><br />– Sweet Home Chicago – The Real City Guide (1993)LA Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17965082005650496385noreply@blogger.com1