buh bye Big Love

I 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.

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.

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.

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.

I'm back to kissing frogs. My prince is out there somewhere.

Free at last, free at last!

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.

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.

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!

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?!?"

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.

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.

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.

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.

RIP FTG

A week of revelations.

In LA, it is hard to believe I could meet people that know Freakishly Tall Guy but I did. He has quite the reputation for being a "doll collector" and I have been his latest conquest. I am freaking out as I am now confident he is not very selective on where he sticks his penis. Every itch I have is scabies, every zit forming is herpes and every stomachache is the clap. I (PROBABLY) didn't catch anything, but the idea is keeping me up at night. In this instance, KnitStar's observation that most men are looking for three quiet wet spots with no sharp edges is spot on. EW.

How is quantity over quality more rewarding? FTG asked me over last night and I just couldn't manage the doe-eyed empty gaze, pursed lips and "momma" when you tipped me over. When I think of his place now, it is a bio hazard zone in my mind. Just couldn't do it. Done. How can other women accept this? He does it because they allow it. What does this say about us as women in LA? Despite being seemingly tough, I recognize that I have a porcelain exterior. I am not going to wait around for that to be broken or chipped. Or to be tossed aside for a shiny new doll. I collected dolls once too, but then I grew up.

Mercy Married Man

Oy vey. Some guys are persist, I will give them that. This is definitely the case with the Investor Douchebag. I met him on the Dirty Filthy Web Site and started talking to him several months ago. At first, he seemed normal and cool (don't they all.) Over time, I noticed a pattern. He would only chat or call me during business hours, never on the weekend. When I would call him after hours I got a variety of excuses as to why he didn't answer; left his phone at the gym, didn't hear it ring, left it in the car etc. It doesn't take Einstein to figure out what is going on there. Married much? He was intent on proving to me that this was not the case. He wrote me incredibly long emails claiming his undying love and letting me know that I am his dream girl he has been looking for his whole life. He texted incessantly. He planned on visiting me, the date to be determined at a later date. Lots of calls. All this done, Mon-Fri, 9-5. WTF? When I called him out on his fuckery and told him to eat shit the tenor of his emails, text and voice mails changed to nasty (again, all during business hours during the week.) I thought I had finally shaken the married asshole. No such luck. When I told him to pound sand today, here is the message he sent me;

Investment Douchbag (5/17/2009 11:09:43 AM): ooooh nice bitch! sweet lil cunt mouth that you are! Funny at 40 you cant control your anger, your money, you life, your friends, or well yourself in general. MOst people with your rate of failure at least do society a favor and commit suicide.

At least I can spell and punctuate. I wonder if he kisses his wife with that potty mouth?

RIP Skeptic

My fuck buddy that won't fuck me, Skeptic and I were supposed to have dinner tonight. He calls me and after some tap dancing (bailing on me, shocking!) tells me he doesn't want me to think he is flaky...he is involved with someone and has been for the entire three years we have had our hook up. He is on an "honesty kick" and felt the need to cleanse his soul. Now Filthy and Gorgeous Posse, please remember this is the guy that would try to tell me his feelings and I would say, er...don't you have friends? He would be depressed and tell me he didn't think he could get it up but if I wanted to have dinner and talk....um, I told him again, dude, you exist in my world for ONE REASON. I have friends, he has his place. I point out that he would rather I think he is a cheating, asshole liar than a flake? Interesting. Did he tell his gf/wife/whatever about me? Nope, some honesty kick. The one person he actually owes honesty to is the one ommitted from his confessional. I am so pleased he made himself feel clean by making me feel dirty.