Category Archives: Ouch

Occupied

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2

“Don’t let someone occupy space in your heart or in your head who never deserved a second glance”- ♥

Bottom line? I knew better.

More than that? I was warned.

Worse than anything? He bought the domain name vaginahoarder.com lying next to me with the intention to sell numbered t-shirts and coffee mugs.

That should have been the last time I wasted my pretty green eyes on him…. but it wasn’t.

Call me an idiot, a glutton for punishment or tie it up neatly with a cute little humiliating bow.

It was amazing every time I was standing right in front of him. He’s thoughtful. He’s sweet and charming and you feel like the only thing on his mind… until you drive away and someone pulls in to take your place on sheets still hot from your devotion.

I got a call from a girlfriend this morning. He propositioned her last night. That’s how much my words hit home. She told me because she didn’t want me to hear it from anyone else, and what she said next really made me feel better for the first time.

S- I realized I could take advantage of him for free drinks. I knew I could flirt with him and he’d pay for my whole evening. It just wasn’t worth it because I love you and you’re amazing and he’s absolutely unforgivable.

I got off the phone and laughed. For the first time it really hit me. He’s really that awful. He’s really that worthless and he really cares that little about the sweet women that get caught up in his web.

Speaking of webs… my darling Anthony called to read me The Spider & The Fly. I seriously have the best friends, ever.

“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; 
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the Spider to the Fly. 
“There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin, 
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in!” 
Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “for I’ve often heard it said, 
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!”

Mary Howitt knew him or at least of the horrible spiders he patterns his life after. So did I, for that matter- because it’s one of my favorite books. I climbed out of bed this morning and went looking for it.  Laughing over the pictures and brimming with my own life coursing through my veins while Anthony read me his favorite highlights and I watched the sun come up.

Like it or not, this arrogant man has occupied a space in my heart that I couldn’t eradicate him from. I’ve tried. I’ve dated, I’ve flown thousands of miles and still thought about him on the shores of paradise island with the man I thought would be my someday husband. I’ve done everything I could think to do, to shake this horrible crush.


The Spider turned around about, and went into his den, 
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again: 
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly, 
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly. 
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing, 
“Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing; 
Your robes are green and purple — there’s a crest upon your head; 
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!”

So I should thank him, because he did what I couldn’t do. He made me hate him so much I will never look him in the face again.

I wont settle for a hoarder- ever again. I will never take his infidelity personally. I will never contribute another dollar to his existence.

More than that?

I will thrive in his absence. I will blossom in my new life and new job, surrounded by dear friends and a bunch of new ones. I’ll make getting over him look so good it’s cruel.

The difference between him and I is that I care about my character and the effect I have on people around me. I love deeply and treasure the people who respect and return those feelings. I’m not happy with myself when I sink to the level of a douche bag or a friend who would ever consider going near the guy who mopped the floor with me. Twice. I’m working my ass off to be more positive, to fill my life with good things and to be contagiously happy to the people around me. I want to be nicer. I want to steal the nasty words out of the mouths of the people who hate me. That’s my goal and he only drags me further from realizing it.

So I got hurt. So my heart got tossed into the fire, again… that’s not all that went up in flames.

He’s laughed and introduced himself as the hoarder. He’s mocked me to my face. He’s 86′d me for using his name when it’s his own damn fault everyone already knows who he is.

I was raised to write a thank you note when someone has done me a favor, and this is probably the best one anyone has ever done for me.

Dear Hoarder,

Thank you. For all the disappointment and tears I’ve wasted on you. Thank you for showing me, once and for all- that you’re not worth any of it.

Thank you for showing me who my real friends are. Thank you for showing me who isn’t. Thank you for fucking the worst of them.

Thank you for making Thomas Murray look like a nice person… you make my whole Puerto Rican nightmare lapse in good judgement look like a Make-A-Wish trip to Disneyland.

Thank you for 86′ing me from your presence. I’ve been a glutton for punishment and you’ve just saved me from myself. If you meant it as an insult, perhaps you should look in the mirror and take stock of your flawed character. I appreciate it more than a dozen roses- and let’s be honest… if you sent roses to all the women you owe them to, you’d have to sell your car to cover the bill.

Thank you, a million times over and then some. For whatever reason and perhaps it’s my own flawed character rearing her ugly head- I learn lessons the best when they hurt the most. You may have broken my heart, but you made me a fortune in the process. Hoard on, hoarder.

I loved you. I thought you were a really amazing man. Thank you for showing me how wrong I was- and thank you for not falling in love with me. I deserve so much better than you.

You may have disrespected, discounted and underestimated me… but when I insulted you? You bought the domain. I’m just sayin’…

Might I suggest a tattoo? Cause you’re kinda known for being a hoarder now, and that’s got to make hoarding a little difficult. Perhaps you should just run with it, because you clearly have a second set of balls where your soul should be.

Thank you, for showing me just how bad a man can be. Thank you for teaching me what the bottom of the barrel looks like.

Oh and you’re welcome.

Your friends like me, your dog loves me and the women you lie to, read my blog.

Good luck, and thanks again- I’d say I owe you one, but I’d rather leave you with an ironic bit of truth you don’t know about me.

My legal first name is actually Ashley.

Peace out- motherfucker- and really… go buy yourself a chin.

And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne’er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.

Phew… ouch.

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4

I climbed back in bed yesterday and pulled the covers over my head…. desperate to get away from the reality of what I’d seen the night before. Absolutely tempted to bleach my eyeballs.

But it hurt bad enough already- and with the friends I’ve got? It’s only a matter of time before it happens again.

I choose to remove myself, instead.

Watching my best friends fuck the guy who absolutely broke my heart? Horrible. Absolute torture. I can get past a lot… but not that. Loyalty isn’t negotiable with me, and I cut people out of my life like cancer if their actions are less than genuine.

That whole “screw me once, shame on you, screw me twice, shame on me” thing? No. When it comes to me,  “screw him once and you’re dead to me”. Cut and dried, because that’s how it is.

When your friend has been through hell with a guy… when she still flinches at the sight of him… and when you’ve seen it repeatedly and heard her cry about it? Yeah… no. I don’t care if he’s Brad Pitt. I love me some Taye Diggs- but I’d shut the door in his beautiful face if he were “that” guy to any of my friends.

Thou shalt not fuck the guy who fucked with your girlfriend. It’s just that simple to me and if I have a friend that doesn’t feel that way? It wont be for long.

But…

Like any open wound, even cutting something out of your life that isn’t healthy- still hurts, horribly.

I loved her like a sister. I confided in her… about him especially. My daughter loved her. Being hit with it and watching him smile at me when he realized I put 2 & 2 together? Nauseating… positively sickening.

But…

It’s temporary. She’s in for it, that’s for sure. At least she knows after listening to me cry about him. The difference being I wont be there when she’s on the receiving end of his lackluster betrayal.

One of my very closest friends showed up last night to pull me out of my misery. As I dissolved in front of her, she put her hands out and offered me real friendship when I needed it most.

♥- I understand exactly where you’re at. He pays attention. He listens. My one date with him was amazing.

She started to detail their date and I started to choke on my own pain because it’s so familiar.

Ultimately I’m off the hook. I never have to see either of them again. I can eliminate the problem, the mutual space and the friends of mine that disregard my feelings.

I’m changing the things I can, while having the wisdom to throw the rest of his bullshit in the fire.

I’m drawing a line in the sand. Out loud. You’re either with me, or against me. You’re either with him, or me. I have the most amazing girlfriends in my life- I don’t have room, time or inclination to keep anyone who would entertain the idea of disrespecting me or stand idly by while someone else does. You are what you eat. Act like it.

Oh? You want to play STD roulette with the hoarder? Huh. By all means, enjoy- and sorry about your bad luck. I’m a much better friend and a far more formidable enemy.

Relax. You’ll never have to worry about me jumping a fence to crash your date. You want that? Have that. Bag it up though… because if you thought mice were dirty…

Not only will I not demean myself by forcing him to acknowledge how much he’s hurt me? I wont give anyone a second thought who would give him a moment of their time.

So the next time your kids are sick, or you are? Call him. See what happens.

The next time you need a ride home, to work, or need to cry about your bad day? Call him.

Hungry? Sad? Lonely and crying the PMS blues? Oh please… if you ever loved me…

Call the hoarder and experience for yourself what it feels like on the dark side of the moon.

He didn’t answer? Your best friend is smiling sweetly at him instead of at you? You can’t believe what you’re seeing?

Weird.

Oh and good luck- you’ll need it.

Well that and antibiotics. lol… and I hope every single tablet sticks in your throat a little to remind you of the high cost of being a whore of a friend.

Oh and may peace be with you, because you may as well have peace if you don’t have class.

Indomitable

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3

Happiness is free, and thank God too… because unemployment is rather stressful financially.

I’ve had plenty of reason to feel bad. Losing a job I needed to survive, watching people I thought were friends vanish as quickly as the dollars in my wallet and being 86′d for life from a place I’ve worked hard to support.

I’ve been a bitch, but I challenge anyone to tell me they’d react differently if they were walking around in my shoes.

I grew up with The Desiderata on the bathroom wall. At 6 years old I remember reading it every time I brushed my teeth. In high school it really made sense and now? I have my own copy hanging on my own bathroom wall. It’s the foundation of my hippie upbringing, and I find myself swimming in it lately.

I can be wicked hateful, and I arm myself with the details most offensive and use them to my benefit like bullets in my very own verbal arsenal. If I want to kick you where it hurts, you’re going to feel it. I’m one supercilious nightmare when inspired to be.

Which isn’t who I want to be, but who I need to be sometimes.

I take a lot of shit. I swallow a lot of pride. I also return the feeling, tenfold-when you push me too far.

I could ramble on and on with an acid tongue and a thesaurus of hurtful adjectives… but it’s just not who I am or who I want to be.

So they hate me. Oh well. I’m not terribly offended considering the facts on the ground.

So my dear friend is jealous enough to post offensive bullshit on my Facebook wall. Oh well. Jealousy doesn’t inspire me to love anyone, and I’m single. I’m fully entitled to inspire jealousy with absolutely no ramifications and beyond that? I know a man who opens his mouth only to bless me with his kindness and affection. Real words from a real man make jealous insults sting a lot less.

I wish I could say I’m surprised- but I’m not- just like I warned him…

J- You do not want to date me. We’re friends. You’re only going to hate me at some point. Trust me.

Guess who was right…

BUT….

Being hateful only drags me down to their level, something I’ve worked too hard to avoid in the last year.

So I flushed the hateful crap and took my little mangy hounds on a walk. I picked a bouquet of daffodils for the dinner table and hung the sheets on the clothesline. They’re crispy smooth and smell like sunshine and spring time.

I baked some honey wheat bread… and snuggled with my little mangy trio while cracking out on the first season of The Tudors…filling out the millionth job application. I weeded a row in the garden and planted more potatoes. I have about 15 pounds of seed potatoes left to plant… Good lord.

Hi, my name is Jenni and I’m a vegetable hoarder. I come from a beautiful line of hoarding gardeners- and hey… I absolutely loathe store-bought marinara. I may be a size 5 by the end of summer because the garden is out of control weedy…

Bonus! Free daily workout and veggies too? See how it starts? Too much of a good thing is still TOO MUCH.

I’m a little haunted by the silence and boredom in my daily life these days. I had the best interview I’ve ever had in my life yesterday, dinner and a drink with a dear friend last night and another favorite chick sighting this morning.

I know I’m being redundant… but for all the shitty men in my life? I am surrounded by phenomenal women.

My dear friend Miss Wisdom saved me yesterday with truth. Not bullshit flowery nonsense, but real “Get a grip and take your own advice” sort of words. Love her. Love them all…

It takes a real friend to see you making bad choices or flailing. We touched on the sorest of subjects…

W- Why would you go there, when you know he’s there and you know it stings and you know he’s bad for you.

J- I have a crush.

W- You HAD a crush… why would you like anyone who would treat you so poorly?

That applies to so many people in my life right now, it took my breath away. Perhaps I’m a glutton for punishment? Either way- it’s a thing of the past, and I’m cutting the bullshit out of my life at record speed.

Life is too short, and it’s too beautiful outside. My garden is all the challenge I need at this point, and my favorite flowers sprouted this morning.

Baby Bells of Ireland, smiling up at me and reminding me that everything is as it should be.

Life goes on- and happier when you cut the nonsense out of your life. More than that, it’s even better when you learn to love yourself first and let the assholes fall where they may in the hurricane of figuring out how to demand respect from people.

Or how to tell them to go fuck themselves.

Either way? I haven’t been so happy in months and I made a few hundred bucks today getting shit out of my garage.

Purging at a profit… now that’s the kind of chaos I can get behind.

Yeah I’m pissed off, offended and insulted- but I’m also single, smart & funny as hell. I’m doing what I need to do and remembering who I really am, now that I’m away from the cancerous source of suffering.

Welcome to the chaos of my fancy schmancy new life. It’s scary uncertain and full of potential disaster, but when I sink to the point I use my words to hurt someone instead of to free myself- I become an asshole like the rest of them.

No hate. No haterade… and most importantly?

No haters.

That right there is quite the victory, if I do say so myself.

Argh.

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You know when something can be hard, and it is? It’s that sort of week. I’m so tired of paperwork I could scream.

My last names don’t match on my social security card and my drivers license… and one of them has to change in order to file my unemployment.

I just need a copy of my marriage license, that’s all. FML. I’ve been divorced for 9 years and the lady says…

L- Just send your original marriage license in, we’ll return it.

Oh… sure… since I know exactly where that thing is. Ugh. I think it honestly went up in flames at the first Nathan Steinbauer roast. My divorce papers wont work, since apparently you have to be a bride to prove your last name. For crying out loud.

8 phone calls and five miles away they have my marriage license at the click of a button. I’ve already torn the house apart a little (or a lot) looking for it.

Deep breath… and thank you Google.  Two dollars and a five minute drive and I have all my paperwork in an envelope and on it’s way. Good grief. I think it was easier to get divorced.

Grocery shopping when you’re looking at the only money you have until you get a new job… is a little scary. This should be a lesson in saving for a rainy day… cause it’s raining and I haven’t been saving.

I’m tenacious and resourceful. It’ll all be ok. I found the best thing first thing this morning that reminded me to quit panicking.

The reality is? I wake up every day so thankful I don’t have to go to work.

I wake up thankful…. and when you wake up thankful to be unemployed? You know you were working the wrong job.

My feet finally don’t sting to step on. My floors are so clean you can eat off of them. My dishes and laundry are done and I’ve started painting.

It’s rainy ugly and I don’t want to weed… but I’ve wiggled my toes into the cold soil once or twice just to calm my nerves. My earthworms are easily 18 inches long… the layer of leaf mulch I put on the garden last fall has really paid off. Now I just need to weed an acre or rent a tiller and get it planted and mulched.

Time of the essence… and I finally have some.

3 20′ rows of golden raspberries to cut back, tie up, weed & mulch with pine needles.

14 fruit trees to prune.

A yard sale or five to throw… and every reason to just load it all in the car and take it to the nearest thrift store for donation.

A 6′ pile of lumber… in desperate need of a fence, but lacking a table saw. Damn it, who knew I’d ever want a table saw? Realizing that I couldn’t cut a 9 ft board by myself anyway.

and I still can’t find the fucking cordless drill charger.

ARGH.

It’s that kind of week, where I have more hours in the day than I’m used to, a helluva  lot of silence and no money coming in. A mind full of panic and doubt.

When the phone rings, and the interviews start rolling in.

I realized I moved a few mountains in finding my marriage license, my mother and father’s social security numbers and getting it all in the mail by 11 AM. Taking little bits of faith from the little victories of my everyday boredom of late.

Celebrating the biggest relief I’ve felt in years with one fresh coat of paint.

The wall the stupid dirty boat stealing asshole ruined in my living room is finally fixed. My mom’s darling boyfriend painted it yesterday and I started to cry when I stepped back and looked at it.

He’s finally gone. There will always be stupid things he did staring me in the face- but this was a big one.

I’d gone on vacation to visit family and he’d decided to drywall it himself. <eyeroll>

The man is the king of shortcuts and half-assed. I was relieved to not be looking at insulation anymore but it was just a nightmare when I looked at it. He’d used spackle from the Habitat for Humanity place on the wall in my bedroom and you could see hay, hair and dirt in it? Nevermind it was over an inch thick in places- and dry.

DBSA- Surprise!

This is an example of life with him. He just can’t do things the right way. He must fuck them up. He must do the one thing that ruins everything. He is literally a bad luck charm.

I had a friend look at it for me and tell me honestly if I should just sand it off and he shook his head in horror and told me it’d be easier to build a closet around it instead. Lovely. So I painted it red like the rest- and someday I may learn how to build a closet or let someone else deal with the disaster he made. Fuckin’ idiot.

At any rate. I asked him not to mud the wall in the living room- in no uncertain terms… and when I went to do it myself- I realized the drywall stuck out a quarter of an inch too far. I called him.

J- Hey. Why is the drywall a quarter inch too big in the living room?

DBSA- Oh… well… when I went to get it I thought for sure it was 3/4″ drywall.

J- so you just bought the wrong size?

DBSA- Yeah, but I already had it there and I can just contour it to fit, you’ll hardly notice.

Yep. Told ya. A real live certified mouth breather. I was so disgusted I hung up… and got out my screwdriver. I got the wrong sized pieces off, and went to buy the right size. It wasn’t hard and I’ve had the drywall up for over a year. After his nightmare Spackle job, I was intimidated.

My mom’s darling boyfriend finished it for me as a Christmas gift, and it’s beautiful. He’s even going to come back and help me trim it out.

In a week that feels absolutely standstill and boring…. I’ve gotten a lot of shit done.

Best of all, I’m finally rid of that damn hippie half-assed construction I was foolish enough to let him do.

A new job on the horizon, a little headway in the garden and an ugly piece of my past, covered with a fresh coat of beautiful pale Tiffany blue paint.

Ahhhh…. finally relieved of the writers block that always results from people I don’t like, reading my blog.

Fuck off if you don’t like me- and thank you to those who do- I appreciate all the emails and the ♥.

Yeah it’s been a hard couple of days… but I quit smoking, I quit drinking beer on a daily basis, and I quit swallowing my pride for $3.35 an hour.

Seems like a good week, after all?