Turnabout is fair play.


I sat down at the table across from him, hoping the thoughts running through my head weren’t rolling out like a ticker tape banner across my face. I had the wonderful misfortune of inheriting my Grandmother’s Irish green eyes and the temper to match. I’m not good at keeping my feelings to myself, though most times there’s no need to ask if I’m upset. If my eyes don’t alert you, my eyebrows will. Subtlety is not my cup of tea.

I’m mad at him and he knows it. He’s fighting to keep the corners of his mouth from curling into a smile and I’m simmering.

McH- I had something interesting happen.

Me- That’s nice.

McH- Yeah… I was sitting at the bar, having a beer when Mrs. Margarita turned to me and said “Are you Incredicock?”

I gasped & my mouth fell open. I haven’t been that stunned in a long time, but eventually laughed while he gave me the gory details. He prides himself on not reading but is aware of what I’ve nicknamed him. Ironically enough, I’m one of those prudish girls who hates the words cock & cunt. I could never call him Incredicock to his face, so to hear him say it out loud was shocking.

I’m always a little surprised anybody bothers to read while I whine on endlessly, especially when it’s about a man behaving all too basic. To hear that it’s a friend of ours and one that reads enough to identify him from my indefinite rambling on? To his face? Well, that makes my whole damn month.

It serves him fucking right. 😛 I’m over here suffering, missing him like crazy while he laughs about it.

To my darling Mrs. Margarita,

Thank you, my darling lady-love! You’re a true homie. I appreciate you handing him some of my suffering in a shocking little bomb of a package. You’re amazing and I only wish I were there too!

xo J

Celibate silence.

My number one frustration is losing the ability to put words together when I’m not intimately involved. I don’t know what happens, but at certain point my hands go still and my brain starts to overflow with the excess of adjectives I’ve run out of room for. I still choke on the details, I just can’t spit them out.

The current condition of my heart is disastrous, at best. Twisting in the wind for the man who tied you up there in the first place, sucks. Realizing that he enjoys my suffering doesn’t help me hate him, unfortunately. I couldn’t quit his pretty smile if I tried and it is the last thing in the world I want to give up.

But I’ve been prompting myself to move past this bad time and put these chaste six months behind me before I go blind from the frustration all this window shopping creates.


I went on a bad date. It was pretty wretched and I still have the stench of his cologne stuck in my sinuses. Its so funny how fickle the human heart is. McHotStuff could wear dollar store Old Spice and I’d fall at his feet in a puddle. Poor Derrick the attorney may have been in Yves Saint Laurent and I’m still annoyed. Something about these giant new boobs I bought, inspire the worst in some men. Derrick had a litany of questions and I snuck out the side door when he was in the bathroom. Sorry, not sorry. I’m not sitting through another date with anyone who can’t carry on an appropriate conversation for five minutes. My body is not up for discussion on the first date and if he’s lucky enough to make it to a third, we’ll discuss the volume of my implants. Yeeesh. apparently class isn’t something they teach in law school.

I weeded my garden, finally! It’s still weedy and overgrown, but the vegetables are getting bigger than the weeds and I’ve had spinach and radish salad for dinner every night this week. Juggling a half acre garden and a full time job is a little stressful and definitely stands in the way of any personal life I may want to have. A-fucking-men. I couldn’t be happier than to avoid the penis-folk entirely and if it’s one thing I can’t grow, it’s dick.

I’m stuck, sad and hopeless in a lot of ways. I can’t see around or past how I feel and that’s incredibly frustrating. I found a great therapist who’s done her best to shine a light on the whys and how’s of it all, but I still just find myself thinking about him. Some afflictions are bone deep and I feel like I need a transfusion to get him out of my veins. When you know all there is to know about someone and love them even more as a result, it’s difficult to turn a blind eye to it and walk away. It’s damn near impossible when walking away isn’t an option. How do you swim in the details and not drown? I’ll let you know if I figure it out.


I think this lesson is more about consequences of rash decision making on my part. I have learned the hard way enough times that I should have known better than to think I could be casual with someone special to me and not get involved. Getting involved emotionally IS my superpower. Hell, I get emotional about the dandelions blowing away in the wind without first being wished upon.

I’m just that girl and I always will be.

For the first time in my life I’m celebrating that instead of apologizing for it. ♥