Viral

When I started writing, I was in the end stages of a long term relationship with a lazy hippie. I had spent nearly a decade trying to love him into being a better man. He really only wanted to smoke pot and day drink, while I had visions of white dresses and one last baby. It came to a fiery end, and I continued writing to keep myself company in my suddenly empty house. Being single was new to me. I’d had a boyfriend since I was 14 and really had no idea how it looked to not belong to someone. I’d lost myself entirely and didn’t even know what I liked or disliked anymore. I distinctly remember someone asking me what my favorite color was, and his favorite shade of blue instantly came to mind. I think it was the first time I had the chance to get to know myself. (For the record, I like purple.)

I collect skills when I’m bored. I learned how to rewire my garage when the old stuff started to short out. I taught myself to knit. Youtube and Google give me FAR too much confidence in not ever having to ask for help. I’ve made chicken wire bean tunnels, built furniture and retiled the kitchen. Currently, I’m trying to figure out how to cover the old brick fireplace in my living room with stone.   It sounds fun, but it’s more like haphazard crafting ADHD.

I did some hysterically funny dating. I was so uncomfortable with myself and in my own skin that I hand picked the weirdest weirdos I could find. I wasn’t uncomfortable if I wasn’t attracted to him, so I got my feet back under myself in the strangest of circumstances.

I learned that I definitely have a type.

Ok, maybe more than one.

I flew 15 hours to Puerto Rico for a first date with a fellow blogger who’d romanced me for a year. It turned out he was a married psychopath. Just because a vacation is free, doesn’t mean you should go. Also, con-men should avoid bloggers. I may be a little too adventurous for my own good, but I have no regrets because it ends up being a lesson either way.

I met the perfect guy. We fell in love instantly and made a beautiful baby together. We broke up just before she was born. We’re friends now, and share her peacefully. He got married right after she was born and they live in a different state.

I stopped writing. I’d had to look at a 4 inch tall stack of printed out blog entries in family court for an entire year. It’s all fine and good to be proud of your blowjob, but do you really want to have to discuss it when your baby’s life is on the line? No. Let me assure you. You do not.

One thing still silences me faster than anything, though. When the stats go shooting to the sky and WordPress chimes at me all day that traffic is booming. Yesterday was definitely one of  those days.

Once upon a time, nobody read this shit. For the first five years, I posted pictures of my children, my house… hell my naked ass is on one of the many that have been set to private. I refer to it as my journal and my friends laugh at me because they’re reading it too.

It still surprises me when the floodgates open and I make a thousand new friends in a day. Especially when new countries show up on the map. This morning it was Bosnia and  Herzegovina.

Hey there… nice to meet all of you! Feel free to introduce yourselves 🙂

Ego

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It takes a special kind of man to sit comfortably in the crosshairs of my blog. I make a point to not get involved with anyone that knows me well enough to know about it. It puts me at too much of a disadvantage when they start reading. I’ve learned the hard way by thinking it wouldn’t matter. It always has.

The worst of the worst , work overtime to manipulate it. The absolute worst guy I ever dated, manipulated every syllable until I bleached him out of my life. He knew if he came to see me, I’d be word vomiting his ego back into the stratosphere before he got back to his office. He also was the only one who’s ever loved a solid hate blog. I wrote about his failed erections. He was furious, but he made a point to drive over to spank me, because he wanted to read about it.

The best one was determined to be a good guy in print. I wasn’t that into him and he was on overdrive. He sent me pretty shoes, cheeky panties, a pretty pink Coach bag… and on and on. He would have kept on buying, purely for how much he loved to read about how much I loved my new panties… until he read about me putting them on for a date he wasn’t taking me on. Nice guys turn crazy when they read how lukewarm you are about them. Disinterest hooks them just as deeply as it does us.

The hottest one, lived to outdo himself. He referred to my blog as personalized porn, and he did research on ways to stun, surprise and satisfy me. He counted my orgasms like goals and left me drowning in adjectives and shaking from the highlight reel running through my head. What began as a revenge fuck, ended up being a hell of a hard habit to break. Still the only man who has ever made me tap out. Bless his smoking hot soul.

The biggest monsters learned the largest lessons. Nathan still has to explain why he’s such a liar and I cock-blocked Virgin Islands with the truth until he begged me to stop. I set most of the content regarding both of them to private because I don’t want to be defined by my biggest mistakes any more than they do.

My friends will tell you that I’m one of the nicest people they know. They will also caution anyone not to overlook the flip side. I rise to the occasion and put in overtime to outdo my conquests. Same goes for when they’ve decided to be an asshole. When I hear them whine and complain about how they hate and want me simultaneously, I know that my work is done. I’m not a bitch, I’m just a big fan of Karma.

However they inspire me to feel, will be returned to them, tenfold. I’m the ultimate investment until he’s a douche bag, treating me poorly; whilst reading my journal.

At that point? He becomes a verbal target and I unpack my bag of his deepest insecurities for a few thousand friends and strangers to read and laugh about. It’s all fun and games until it hurts, huh boys?

Mr. Grey is not a subscriber and will not be reading. Something that absolutely delights me for a few old fashioned reasons. I don’t know what he’ll be wearing on our date Sunday, because he hasn’t read what I hope it’ll be. He’s attentive without knowing I want him to be, responding to my texts within minutes unless he’s in court. He actually apologizes if he’s away from his phone and doesn’t respond, promptly. That still surprises me. Confidence is one of the hottest things a man can show you and it’s the definition of masculinity for me. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t play stupid games and <gasp> even communicates. With words I occasionally have to look up…<quadruple swoon>.

For the most part though? It’s really fun to see what he does without reading the cliff notes…