Tag Archives: Ex-boyfriend

You asked for it.

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Mr. (ex)Boyfriend,

Your endless barrage of text messages is driving me fucking nuts. If you can’t spell the word Y-O-U… don’t bother me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I was more than a little nice. I even chose my words carefully. Which is exactly what I’m going to do now, only in a whole new way.

You bore me to tears. Seriously. While you’re very nice, I know that in a matter of months I’d be cheating on you. If not weeks. Just for the opportunity to have an intelligent conversation, if nothing else.

Your jokes aren’t funny and neither is calling your dick a wiener. That’s what my Grandma calls hot dogs. I’d never put a wiener in my mouth. Nuff said.

My ten year old is funnier than you- and can crack jokes at your expense, in your presence, without you knowing. That’s where you lost me. You finding my blog only made it easy to break up with you. I was planning on weeks of working too much and continuing to be emotionally unavailable, which ultimately would have led you to be frustrated to the point of breaking up with ME. Thanks for making it easier and saving me time.

A little advice? Whimpering is for girls – leave the moaning to the chicks. We’re talking a SERIOUS buzz kill! The times you were quiet? I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from calling you the wrong name because I was thinking about someone else.

You telling me how amazing & gorgeous and spectacular I was all the time only led me to one conclusion. I’m out of your league.

Keep those text messages coming if you’d like me to continue.

You should know that being a pain in the ass will get you nowhere with me.

xo Jenni

Only Girl

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So I have different rules for different men, we all do. It frustrates us just as much as it frustrates the men who try to understand which rules apply to them.

Except for the men that don’t care. Those are my favorite. Tragic- but true. Make me feel like the only one you want- but for crying out loud, don’t profess your undying love. Relax- be cool- and don’t arm me immediately with your deepest desires & innermost feelings.

Sinful inspires me to abandon my morals…. or at least be on top of my game. Deliciously unavailable and stealthy. Enough to make you get on your knees and thank God for the male species. Devastatingly handsome with far too much knowledge for one man.

Smarty has me completely tied in knots. Grinning like a lunatic every time I see his number on my phone. So smart- and my favorite kind of kiss. Burn the house down hot… and I’m intrigued because I know it’s going to be so much fun. No immediate threat of eternal devotion- its purely intelligent temptation. He’s smarter than me, and its insanely attractive. I’ve learned how to capitalize mid sentence purely to keep up with his incredible text messages. He’s successful, smart & interesting. Bonus round? He kisses like a porn star. Handful of hair-numb lips-pray to God sort of kiss. Not your garden variety smart guy kiss… but just the type to get the wheels turning. If that’s amazing… I wonder… Hmmm.

So why didn’t it work with the boyfriend, who was only TOO willing to give me any & everything I want?

Because it was too fucking easy. In the same way men don’t call the girls who go home with them on the first night, women aren’t excited by the over-eager men of the world either. If it’s that easy for me, it’s been easy for everyone. Nothing at all about that excites me. I want the same thing every girl wants…

What I can’t have.

If I have to work overtime, I’m inspired. I’m sexually charged and verbal. I reach for the red bra & panties instead of the white stuff. I shave, wax, paint, and pay attention to your weaknesses so I can capitalize on them.

But if you’re quick to drop to your knees, profess your love and moan my name… offering me a captivity band… while talking about picket fences and baby names…

I’m slipping my shoes on… the keys are in my hand- and I’m OUT.

I prefer Smart & Sinful- and I don’t breed in captivity.

Too nice.

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It’s that time again.

Mea Culpa

The crappy situation with Mr. Boyfriend is completely my fault. I should have been more clear about needing my space. I did have a great time with him- but he seriously choked the life out of it. You can’t compliment someone constantly. It starts to make them feel uncomfortable. There has to be a balance- and there wasn’t one in this situation. He’s the nicest guy I’ve ever dated- literally- but. I feel caged. I feel a little too pursued. I feel suffocated.

I miss being single. I don’t think I knew what I was getting into. I don’t have time to be this important to someone. I don’t want to disappoint someone because I have friends I want to hang out with. I want my space and my freedom, back. I don’t intend to give it away for a while.

and when I do? I’m going to be a little smarter after being with him because I know that nice guys do exist, and I know that it’s wonderful to have someone be nice to you, and accept you just as you are. It’s worth holding out for. We all deserve it if we make the same effort to be a good partner.He was nothing but nice to me.

But….

My life went from being completely my own to talking to someone EVERY day. I was on overload. The whole thing went from 0-60 in a second. I didn’t have time to catch my breath, and I wasn’t sure what to say. He got pissy with me for not wanting him to touch me in public… I went from being single, to being someone’s property…

and I didn’t like it… but I did like him- and I didn’t intend to hurt him. MEA CULPA. My fault, but how on earth do you say to someone “I don’t like being someone’s girlfriend” ??? I don’t know. Certainly in a nicer way than I did.

Lesson learned & the most sincere of apologies for my being a bitch… but dude…Mr. Boyfriend… Listen up.

You decided to read my blog and I’m really sorry if that’s hurt your feelings… but I’m sure you’ve heard to be careful what you wish for, cause you just might get it. You went looking for answers- and got them. Shocker, huh? Putting me in the position to have to ask you to ease up, on a few different occasions, and when we’ve only been dating for 3 weeks? Over the top.

Asking me to call you so you can walk up and meet me at my car to avoid me walking down town alone? We’re talking 2 blocks. Hmm. I get where you’re going with it- but you need to hear loudly how annoying that is. I’m 34, not 18. I’ve been divorced since 2003 and not seeing anyone since November 09. I walk alone. I’m not afraid. I don’t need a man to walk me around, and if I do want you to? I’ll ask. I own my own power tools. I don’t need help with everything. I gave up on the idea of the knight on a white horse a looooong time ago. Relax…and don’t ever call your girlfriend Woman. Ugh. That’s truly offensive- even though it’s an accurate distinction. I didn’t call you because I don’t know what to say.

No we’re not going to keep dating. You read my journal now. I’d be tempted too often to hurt you with it. You’d read about the Shark and be fucking furious… and you’d never know if I was making it up or not. You’d go crazy wondering and you’d drive me insane. Ultimately you just wont listen to me… and thinking about you searching for my blog? Makes me feel like I had a stalker, not a boyfriend.

Sorry. Mea Culpa.

Eat crow, you lousy jerk.

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Go ahead and laugh with me…. you know you want to… and you know you’ve earned the laugh at his expense if you been reading the past few years…

I got the call of shame today: from my ex.

S- So… That’s not exactly how I thought the evening would turn out.

J- I bet not.

S- Sorry if you felt like I ignored you… again.

J- Thank you- but I had a great time.

S- Well I think you were a little hasty.

J- Really? How long would you suggest I have sat there? An hour?

S- Well that’s not really how I remember things.

J- Of course it’s not.

S- You didn’t sit there that long-

J- Long enough, apparently- but really- it doesn’t matter. I told you I will never sit there again- and now you know I”m serious.

S- Are you hungry? I could bring lunch?

J- Nope. Not hungry at all. Thanks.

S- Ok. Well. I guess I’ll talk to you later.

J- Yeah- take care.

Bless you omg… nevermind my friends begging me to kick my unavailable man habit… I can’t hear them right now…

You helping me kick the bad habit that is my ex…

Priceless.

Instead of going down in flames…

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Rise from them.

I went out to meet a friend for a beer.

My ex to be exact.

Feeling lonely… sad and like underneath it all… I’m still crushing.

It’s going to take some time to get OMG out of my system… it’s going to take a lot of knitting and a helluva lot of running.

and a lot of being annoyed by meek & weak men. A lot of that.

So I agreed to go out to one of our local sports bars for a quick beer.

I walked in and realized quickly that he was heavily involved in conversation with two old men to the right of us.

S- I smell a beautiful woman- I’ve traded my other friend for a hot friend- how bout that deal?

J- Thanks- I guess.

at which point he turned his back to me, to continue the conversation they’d been having prior to my arrival. Some of you know this is the theme of our long relationship. He actually forgot me at home once because he started having an in-depth conversation about politics with someone at the bar and completely forgot about me. It wasn’t until I called him at 11:30 thinking maybe he was dead on the side of the road (or should be) and all he said was “Oh shit, I suck” when he answered the phone.

One of my dear friends always says to me:  “Never make anyone a priority who makes you an option”  and I know she’d kill me right now if she could see where I’m sitting… and what I’m sitting through.  They’re not even looking at me now and again- they’re deep in conversation and I am SO uncomfortable I want to sink into the floor.

A text comes in from OMG… grin… Silvia is SO right… there’s huge gratification in unintentional vengeance…not to mention satisfaction in knowing he has some sort of ESP when it comes to making me feel better around my lame ex.

I scan the bar to see if I can see a newspaper- or anything to occupy myself without feeling so uncomfortable. I chastise myself again for not buying myself an iPhone… my problems would be solved by now if I were a little more irresponsible. Damn it.

All that’s on is a baseball game- bitch- my least favorite. The Mavericks vs. The Cardinals. I could give a shit less. However- it’s my only option at this point. So I try to watch it.

and see a cute guy at the other end of the bar smile at me. I smile back at him…but now he’s staring… and I’ve created a whole new level of being uncomfortable.

I start to pick at my fingernails- that annoying nervous reaction that I can’t seem to shake. Ugh! He motions for the waitress and says

H- I’d like to buy Carrie Underwood a beer- because her husband is ignoring her.

J- Excuse me? I don’t have a husband.

H- Well boyfriend then.

J- No… I don’t have one of those either. It took too long to get rid of the last one.

H- How long?

I turned to my ex and said

J- How long were we together? 6 or 7 years roughly?

and he laughed and agreed. The poor waitress froze- motioned to him and said

W- He’s your ex?

J- Yep. Relax though- we’re cool. He told me enough horror stories about Friday night that I think at this point- this can’t be worse.

He laughs at me, and turns back to his conversation with the old man in the red baseball hat. They’re debating politics, the housing market and the Lakers vs. Sonics.

I looked down at my beer… and up at the cute guy grinning at me…

and I pulled the trigger.

I looked to my right at my ex’s back… at his arms flailing at his sides to emphasize his impassioned but pointless opinions…

as he ignored me for the last time.

I picked up my purse… and my beer… and walked over to sit by the guy who’d just bought it for me.

The shocked look on the cute strangers’ face said it all… and I held out my hand, told him my name, thanked him for the beer and asked him if I could join him.

H- Am I gonna have to fight Jabroni?

Now I had no idea what a Jabroni was until I googled it this morning.

Jabroni: noun

  • in “professional wrestling,” a wrestler who loses to improve the image of the winner.to lose, be defeated, fail
  • a general insult; sissy, idiot, nobody, loser, uncool person, jerk, asshole.

I’m a sucker for a gentleman… even if drinking the drinks men buy for me always lands me in trouble. At this point, I was willing myself to follow through finally standing up for myself to this inconsiderate jerk of an ex of mine. My cute angel of mercy was shooting nasty looks back at my ex. I sure know how to get in trouble lately.

You could have heard a pin drop for a minute there… and there were some hateful glances exchanged amongst the men…

The cute stranger looked me and said

H- You’re crazy for sitting there and letting someone treat you like that.

J- Yep. I know… which is why I’m not sitting there anymore.

H- What kind of idiot turns his back to the hot blond he’s with to talk to a bunch of old guys in baseball hats?

J- That one- all the time actually. Thanks for giving me a reason to leave.

Jackass continued his conversation with the old man… when he started to leave, I walked over, said I was sorry if he was offended… but…

J- If you’re not going to talk to me, I’m going to hang out with someone who wants to. I’ll never sit and stare at your back again while you ignore me. Sorry if you’re offended.

S- No problem- have a nice night.

J- Thanks… you too.

He left… and I stayed and agreed to have another beer with the cute stranger Heath, who was just passing through town.

I thanked him, told him he did me more of a favor than he could/would ever know- if even just providing the perfect set of circumstances for me to take my own self respect back… not to mention restoring my faith in gentlemen.

Because I went for a beer with the ex and came home with Heath’s phone number instead.

How do ya like them apples?

:)