And here I was, thinking that the Chicken was bland.

I was all set last night to talk about how I was bland.  I believe I compared myself to a pale piece of boiled chicken on a white plate.  I never got around to finishing the blog, because I guess I wasn't supposed to.  Last night I may have felt boring, but I'm realizing now that I am just the opposite (even when I am not getting into trouble).

Today was one of those days where I got home, cracked my bottle of wine, and sighed.  Sighed not because I was tired and run down, but because I had a great day.  Work wasn't that crazy, I laughed (a few times), I had a major moment of thankfulness (which I'll actually write about in a separate blog), and I was ready to tackle the things that I needed to at home.

The things that made me laugh today:  In no particular order and by no means all of them
1.  There was an older woman who was freaked out about her HOA statement.  She called at least six times, each time complaining that she did not get a call back.  I would listen to her complaint, urge her to please leave a voicemail, then tell her that she would receive a call back by the end of the day.  At the end of the day, I found out that the only person this woman should be mad at was herself.  Each and every time she called and left a message, she neglected to leave her telephone number for a call back.  Idiot!

2.  I flirted with a little person.  I am trying to be PC here.  He happens to be a performer here in town.  I am guessing him to be at least in his late 30's, early 40's...I actually found him attractive.  It may have been the accent, it may have been the fact that he dresses well, it could be his manners...or all of the above.  The pervert in me was totally trying to picture how sex would be.  The mom in me wanted to pick him up and squeeze him and cuddle him, while telling him just how adorable he is.  Regardless, I proved to myself that I really will flirt with anyone.

3.  I called my favorite lingerie website this afternoon to place my order for my Halloween costume.  Yes, I am trying an exercise in confidence and wearing lingerie (to an extent) as my costume.  Sexy Witch.  The consultant that I talked with was so sweet.  We talked like we were old friends, I told her I had gift cards to spend...which brought up the reason I had gift cards.  I win contests on their Facebook page all the time.  I have won 4 total, including one where I actually named one of their new corsets.  They really should hire me.  While C1 and I were together, he actually won a contest as well and gave me his prize.  I spoke of him during the conversation with the consultant...to which she replies with a laugh, "C1?"(she actually used his name obviously).  She knew his fucking name!!  Those of you who are more familiar with who C1 is will understand what I mean when I say he was very active on FB.  Evidently, everyone at the main office of the website was weirded out about the fact that he was commenting on literally EVERYTHING on their FB page...statuses, pictures, responding to others' posts on statuses/pictures, other people's pictures that were posted on the page, and befriending people through the page.  I am now wondering if they got any complaints about him.  Anyway, we had a good laugh at the fact that him and I were no longer together.  She said they had been wondering what had happened to him...I told them that he stopped because he and I broke up.  "You're welcome", I said.  She laughed hysterically.  I have a feeling that our talk might be the story going around the office tomorrow.  I am also really happy that I get more stuff in the mail next week.  I got my latest prize pack today...it had some very cute pj bottoms, a tee, a velvet thong, and 4 pairs of stockings (the sexy thigh-high kind that need garters. cute!).

So, yeah.  I laughed today.  I was happy today.  I made no booty calls and had no sex.  I am making an actual effort to lead a normal sort of life (as normal as I can manage).  Less boys, more Chicken time.  That's the way it should be.  Of course, we have not approached the weekend yet, have we?  I've got First Friday this Friday night (I am taking Mini Me with me...we're going to check out some art), The Biggest Tattoo Show on Earth Saturday night with Sailor Girl (can't wait!), C2 is coming into town (I don't know what's up with that yet...), and I also have a play date with Little Man, his new school friend, and new school friend's mom (who, by my estimation is 45 at least).  Now that will be a story...newly divorced 45 year old who has never had a life of her own and just moved to town meets 31 year old, tattooed, wild child.  Wow. She won't know what hit her.  Maybe I should introduce her to my mother...

I wrote this story...it's about a girl who lost her reputation and never missed it.

I probably should wear a sign that says this.  Just get it out of the way, then we can move on without any pretenses.  I should possibly even wear a sign that states, "If you have a girlfriend or wife and can read this sign, you are too close.  Please back away and do not even speak to me."  After all, I am "that girl".  I have been "that girl" for a very long time.  Since high school, even.  I am the chronic flirt.  I am single, for lots of reasons, including the fact that I am loyal to very few except myself.  I don't pay attention to things like whether or not a man is in a relationship already.  I sleep around.  I wear my sexuality with ease, not like other women who wear it like an awkward purse - never knowing how to hold it, where to hang it, or when to just put it down.  I am dangerous, or so some women might think.  In actuality, I'm not.

I can say no to men, even if most of the time I don't.  Women want to think the best of me, because after all, I really am a sweet and lovable human being; but they can't help having that little voice in the back of their head that tells them not to trust me around their men.  It's ok.  I get it.  I keep myself in check, even though I am a strong believer in the fact that it is NOT my job to do that with your man.  I get put in awkward situations and people assume things right off the bat.  It is true what they say about what it means to assume.  If you've never heard that ditty, then look it up using the link I provided.  I try not to assume things about others as well.  It's difficult sometimes.  There are many facets to my being and just because I talk about the most lively, wild parts does not mean that it is who I am in my entirety.  I deal with it and most times just laugh it off.  So, in the words of Forrest Gump, "that's all I have to say about that".

Speaking of assuming:  I said that I try not to do it very often.  It still happens.  Today for instance - I got a phone call from Mini Me's teacher.  Apparently, she is becoming somewhat of a social butterfly this year and is not focusing on her work.  I had been assuming everything was fine, when in fact, Mini Me has been hiding notes sent home by the teacher for me to sign.  She has also not been turning in her homework, which we have been completing every night.  This part, I will blame on the teacher.  I was extremely confused by her inadequacy at explaining her homework procedures at the beginning of the year.  She was not specific at all on the turn-in procedures and couldn't even answer a simple question that I asked, about which folder Mini Me's things are supposed to be brought back in.  Mini Me also says she is really strict and mean.  I don't know about that, but some organization is in order.  I'm honestly not looking forward to constant phone calls from the teacher.  Now that she has spoken with me once, I just gave her the go-ahead for other phone calls - I bet they come on a weekly basis.  Mini Me is very smart.  Did the teacher ever think that maybe Mini Me is not being challenged enough?  Little Man had that problem up until 5th grade.  He's in all accelerated classes and still thinks school is easy.  I would be looked at as the total bitch mom if I brought that up, though. So, I told her that I would look into it and that if she was having any more issues, please give me a call.  "Good Mom" points for me today.

I am still trying to work on "Good Friend" points.  I find those are harder to come by.

I used to think my life was like a soap opera...

Maybe it's more like a romantic comedy of errors.  Or maybe like one of those Lifetime movies that you can't stop watching, no matter how bad the acting is.  Either way, there were some interesting developments in my happenings over the past week or so.

First of all, I had a really crappy week last week.  Not for any reason in particular, I was just in a mood.  I was in this state of melancholy that I just could not escape from.  I really think that had I not had my tattoo appointment Saturday night, I might not have left my home at all over the weekend.  Or gotten out of my pajamas, for that matter.  But anyway, I sent C2 a note last week (I don't remember what day).  It had been a while since I had talked to him and I wanted to see how he was doing.  He was evidently in a mood as well.  He told me that he was not coming out this weekend and that he was just not happy...but that it wasn't my fault.  At first, I was just assuming that he believed that this chicken was the kind that thought everything was her fault.  I wasn't worried at the time, but now, I'm not so sure.  I thought he just wanted to be left alone (some people are like that after all).  I gave him a couple of days, then sent him another message on Friday night...I vented a little...I was feeling low and was wishing that he was in town...I was missing him.  I got no response.  At all.  All weekend.  In fact, he has been online so little the past week (almost two), that I had to make sure he hadn't deleted me.  Of course now, I am that girly chicken..."Is he not interested anymore?", "Did I really actually piss him off and he is not ready to talk about it?", "Is he mad that I made a comment in my blog about not feeling like I have anything in common with ANYONE?", "Or is he mad that I talked about sleeping with E?".  Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  I didn't think we were at that point in all of this...we haven't even really had a conversation about "us".  I guess I just have to feel this one out.  I'll have to bring it up.  It makes me nervous.  So, basically in the span of two weeks, I went from all kinds of men to no men. 
To top things off, work has become a mess of childish, woman drama.  This is why I don't hang out with girls.  Caddy talk-behind-each-other's-back shit is ridiculous.  Really.  A manager got let go.  Now everyone is kissing the boss' ass and throwing other people under the bus to save their jobs.  A little birdie told me that I was next.  There are too many little birdies flying around this place.  Yes, I still associate with that manager who you say fucked you over (or whatever).  I don't give a crap.  This job is a paycheck.  End of story.  I don't like to get involved with inter-office drama and I certainly don't like to kiss ass.  I suppose I'll have to, though.  Appease the Queen.  Everyone else does.  I need to go back to school and work for myself.

After spending half of last week thinking that I was going to get canned, worrying about whether I had unintentionally hurt C2, and paying bills and all the other crap I need to deal with...I went to my appointment at the shop.  I am so happy I did.  I hung out with the guys, had some beers, got my tattoo, and all was well. Getting the tattoo was interesting.  He had me lay down flat, then said, "Ok, this is not going to work.  You're too busty.  Can you hold your boobs down?" We then spent about 10-15 minutes figuring out a way I could sit so my boobs wouldn't be in my chin.  He MacGyvered the chair, then everyone came in to get a peek at my busty-ness (ahem...I mean the tattoo in progress).  I stayed after for a bit and had a great time.  I really do need to make the effort to kick it with them more often...they're good people and I keep saying I need to make different friends.

I also had to put in a distress call to C3 this weekend.  We don't see each other, but I care about him, so I check in on him.  He also makes a good listener and voice of reason sometimes.  I was freaked out and he was the only person that could help me.  In all these happenings, I had once again been hit on by a married man.  What is it with me??!!  He blatantly hit on me when we were alone, asking if I wanted to "get together" sometime...that he really wanted to spend time with me.  I was seriously starting to believe that something was wrong with me for attracting men like this.  C3 thinks it's hilarious (he's one of the perpetrators).  He says that I project a very "open" personality and that men can tell I like the danger and excitement of the whole situation.  Hmmm. Ok. Obviously, these guys are thinking they can get something from me that their wives aren't giving them...otherwise they wouldn't feel the need to stray.  Obviously, I'm so much of a ho-bag that I don't even recognize my ho-baggy behaviors!  I have yet to get a good answer from C3.  His wife must have been around (lmao).  Maybe I just have no morals.  I am cursed when it comes to men.  They are never just normal...I guess nobody is, though.  Normal doesn't really exist.  I am just going to say married guy was a little drunk and I was the only person with a vagina around.  We'll see what the awkwardness level is like next time I see him.  Yes, our paths will cross again.

To top my weekend off, I got the random call from the ex, crying, saying "I love you so much and I always will."  Sheesh, he's got issues!  He didn't even ask to speak to his kids.

That was my bit of interesting nothingness.  We'll see how interesting my life is without a steady man in it.  Somehow, I think I'll find some kind of trouble to get into.  I always do.

I may be irresponsible, but I'm a GOOD irresponsible...

I am constantly fighting with myself over being a responsible adult.  I feel like I have this problem more than others.  I completely live in the moment and rarely think about the future.  Or...I think about the future, know the decision I should make, then completely go in the opposite direction.  "Fuck it.  You only live once." This is pretty much my mantra.

Everyday is a mental battle, trying to find the perfect balance of being responsible and irresponsible...all at the same time.  This is my life.  It is slightly funny that I believe it to be possible.  I live in a very large gray area.  We don't have to be one or the other, right?? 

Not that I want to spend my rent money on toys for my sexual satisfaction, like those tots' parents above...although I do know someone that would probably get a bank loan just to extend their collection of various kinky things (they're insane)...my major bills will be paid.  I wouldn't jeopardize my family's well being on something that I want (I know people who do that too).

I feel guilty when I do something for myself!  Buyer's remorse or whatever it is.  Things are tight, being a single mom with absolutely no help from Loser Dad (kind of like Super Dad, but he wears an invisibility cape and only removes it randomly to ask for money).  Most of the time, my checks are spent before they're even cashed.  During those times when I see that I might have some money to play with (on a larger scale than just buying myself a cheap bottle of wine), I do something just for me.  I deserve it.  I know I do, but then I go through this huge debate with myself on whether it was responsible or not.  There is always something "more responsible" to spend my money on.  Today for instance:  I have an appointment to get the tattoo I've been drooling over for more than a month.  I am supposed to go in on Saturday.  I have already cancelled the appointment, then said "no! forget it...i'll be there".  I hope that I don't continue to do this all week.  Poor guy.  He's dealing with a crazy woman and he hardly knows it.

Spinsters are people too.

Spinster:  an unmarried woman and especially one past the common age for marrying; a woman who seems unlikely to marry

This will be me someday.  Isn't she lovely?

I probably will end up a spinster.  I came to this realization last week as I talked to my sister on the phone. She is younger than me and getting married...for the second time.  I have yet to be married (although I was in a 10 year relationship) and have not yet even come close to finding my so-called soul mate.  That's ok!  Spinsters are cool people.  My mom moved in to the guest house of an extremely interesting woman.  She can't necessarily be classified as a spinster, because she was at one time married.  I don't know for how long.  She told my mother that she got divorced, then "danced and dated" her life away until she was 70.  I wouldn't mind doing that; I'm already on the right path.  I bet Ms. Millie (that's her name) has awesome stories to tell.  I will too.  I suspect that I shall be a little crazy though...but that's just my opinion.  I'll be the interesting old lady sitting on her back porch with a stiff drink and a cigarette, asking the "young ones" to come sit and chat with me.

"Did I ever tell you youngsters about the time I was swimming topless in my lover's pool and his neighbor decided to say hello?  NO?  Well listen to this..."  I'll be a vulgar wrinkled woman...just like the picture.

I hung out with Sailor Girl yesterday.  Good times.  During our conversations about relationships, I realized that I am totally not with the right kind of men.  And I mean right in the sense of not really having a lot in common.  Don't get me wrong, there are small things...and I think it's very interesting that none of the men that I'm with really have tattoos and are not interested in getting them, but like me anyway.  That says a lot about them...or it says something about me...I am not defined by what I put on my body; I'm more than that.  Deep down, though, I want to feel similar to my partner.  I want to be interested in the same things.  I don't feel like I have found that person yet.  I may never find that person. "He/She's got to be out there", this is what goes through all single person's minds.  It goes through mine.  I believe that there is a tattooed, hard on the outside but soft on the inside man who likes music, reading, art, doing new things, and enjoying life.  He is somewhat financially stable, definitely emotionally stable, is not afraid that I have kids and wants to interact with them, has a vehicle, and loves me for exactly who I am.  Oh! And has a sense of style!  It can be quirky, it can be just vintage tees and jeans, but please dress cute.  Hmmmm...I could go on with that list.  Maybe he doesn't exist after all.  This one thing is sure:  I will have fun trying to find him.

Random thought:  Isn't it great to wake up happy?  I woke up in one of those moods today, feeling like I'm going to be productive, I love my life, everything is going to be ok...

I love days like that.

Bite me. Don't mind the bitter taste...I swear I'm sweet on the inside.

Ugh.  My heart hurts.  It could be the free pizza I had for lunch, but it's most likely the results of my daily stalking.  That's right.  I'm a Facebook stalker.  I readily admit it.  Breaking up does not make this compulsion stop.  I have been frequenting C1's wall since the breakup, even though he deleted me as a friend.  I was also checking out the comments he was leaving on other people's walls/statuses...it's what I do.  There had been little activity until today.  I actually found myself worrying about him, wondering if he was completely heartbroken...
I guess I don't need to worry about that.  Seems as though he might have already moved on...or, given his lifestyle, had started moving on before we broke up.  I was wondering why that fucking chick that I didn't want to be friends with in the first place (he "suggested" that she befriend me) deleted me at practically the same time he did.  And she's got a cute little picture as her profile pic...a man and woman's legs wrapped around each other with the words "Luvin U" on it.  How cute.  That's the kind of shit that C1 and I did when we were being loving.  She also is friends with C1's wife, evidently.  They should all be happy together.  C1 likes his women needy and preferably with some sort of health problem.  It makes them dependent on him.  He likes to "take care of" his women...meaning, he likes to baby them.  Plus, them being a little different makes him not feel so weird, I'm sure.  He's not so normal either.  So...him, the woman with mental disorders, the woman with MS, and the woman who lives in another country and is also a virgin...that's the stuff that "B" rated movies are made of right there people!  Thank you, but I'll wait for it to come out on video.

Which really brings me to the topic of my blog:  BITTERNESS
I had the idea to write about the stages of grief yesterday, while I was rocking out to Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know".  It's the quintesential break up song, isn't it?  My favorite part is "when someone runs their nails all down my back I hope you feel it..." or whatever the fuck she says.  We all know the line and I don't really feel like looking up the exact lyrics.  So, my research on the stages of grief led me to a website, where there was an article on the 6 Stages of A Breakup.  It hit home in a big way.  These are the stages that were listed:

Stage One and Stage Two are unimportant.  If you want the breakdown of these, go read the article.  It's humorous.  I've passed these stages and they happen before the actual breakup, so I'm skipping them.

Stage Three: The Crappy Part
This explains itself.  It's the part where you feel like your life is over.  This stage is marked by extensive crying, listening to songs that remind you of your ex, sleeping with things that smell like them, and wondering how the hell your life is supposed to go on.  Let's see...C1 broke up with me on Sunday night...this stage lasted exactly 3 days for me.  I think they kind of melt into each other actually, these stages.  I still feel a twinge of sadness when I hear something or see something that reminds me of him.  I'm a loser.

Stage Four: The Rage
I realized yesterday I was in this stage.  Alanis helped me with that.  "If they don't want to be with me, then that's their problem."  That is this stage's motto.  "Fucking bastard!". That's another.  I honestly thought that I had started to emerge from this bitter state of being this morning when I woke up.  Until I saw that he was happy.  He's supposed to be devastated...wtf?!

Stage Five: The Crush
The realization that your ex isn't the only one in the world.  I already knew this and I think that was one of our biggest problems. (I'm laughing..because it's true)  I'm having the amazing E over this weekend.  I stopped sleeping with him out of loyalty to C1...he was downright jealous (and had reason to be. C1 will never match up to E in the bedroom department).  So let's just say that I have plans to make my way into this stage this weekend...over and over and over again.

Stage Six: FREEDOM
Moving completely the fuck on.
I started this stage just before beginning this blog.  I blocked C1, his loco wife, his new sick girlfriend, and the wife's/C1's virginal girlfriend on Facebook.  This was for my benefit, although they might see it as a hateful act.  When they are blocked, it keeps me from obsessing and going on their pages.  It's a coping mechanism.

Plus, he always has this blog if he feels the need to check in on me.  I hope he finds happiness in all that complicated mess that he seems to thrive on (see...I told you I was sweet on the inside).  But in the spirit of bitterness, I'll leave with this:

To the girls:  That thing he's asking you to do in the bedroom that you've never done before, it's probably because I did it.  And he'll be thinking about me the whole time.
To C1:  I found a website today that you'd be interested in.  Buy your own stuff...that thing that your wife picked out for you was butt ugly.  And stop being afraid of being who you are.  Stop worrying about consequences to telling your family and others about how you live your life, what you like, and the multiple love interests you keep.  You're a fucking adult.  Honestly, what's the worst that would happen??  They might stop supporting your wife and she'd have to get a real job?  Bummer.

Labor Day Weekend: BBQs, pool time, fun, and...??breakups??

I'm still trying to decide on whether to make this one long blog or break it up.  I am the queen of run-on sentences and run-on thoughts, so I might as well be the queen of run-on blogs as well, right?  This weekend has been an interesting one, to say the least.

First of all, I have made my appointment for my last tattoo of the year (or so I say).  Chance, the guy that does my work is super stoked about it...as am I.  This is a sample.  It will look way better though.  I liked her idea, but not the execution.

Let's break this weekend down, bit by bit.
Friday:  I went out with Little Man.  Just me and him...a little mommy/son time.  It was great.  We went to Cheesecake Factory and had a fabulous dinner, then went to see a movie.  We saw Vampires Suck, which did suck.  Horribly.  But...there was an amazing Cuban restaurant next to the movie theater that I have to try.  I'm mostly interested in the mojitos and dancing.  Who needs to eat when there is alcohol and sexy Latin men grinding against my body on a dance floor??  I also learned some things about my son.  He is a great kid and is turning out to be a great man as well.  Out of the blue, he opened the door for me twice while going into the restaurant for dinner.  It was the sweetest thing ever.  I would really like to take the credit for that, but I don't know if I can.  That is the one thing that his dad always did (when things were good with us) and I'm glad that Little Man has picked up on that.  It's the only good thing his dad has done for him.  Speaking of the children's dad...he called me Friday when I got off work.  He wanted to see the kids.  He "couldn't understand" why he hadn't seen them in "6 months".  Hmmmm...let me think about that.  Because you don't call?  Because you make no effort to see them at all?  Because you have no concept of time? (the last time he saw them was actually a few months ago at Easter and he backed out of his Father's Day visit in June)  I'm thinking it was his mother's doing, the whole calling thing.  She wanted to see them.  Either way, I was civil and I said that he could.

Saturday:  I awoke to the sounds of my mother going in and out the front door.  In, then out.  In, then out. She was packing up her car.  She found a place of her own and moved out.  I feel happy to have my house back.  I can be messy if I want to be, I can drink a six pack if I want, I can walk around half naked...
So, yeah. She moved out (which reminds me, I need to call her).  During her moving, I finally heard from C2.  I knew he was in town and I really wanted to see him.  He invited me to go shooting on Sunday morning.  Shooting??  Guns??  YES!  And he wanted to spend time with me...Double YES!!  I skyped with him until the children started begging me to take them to the pool.  We went and got some sun for a few hours.  I met this oddly friendly couple with a bunch of kids...you really meet strange people when your kids start playing together.  Sadly, I had to prep the kids for their trip to their dad's house for the night.  We bid farewell to our new acquaintances and trekked back to the condo.  In my time at the pool, I had messaged C2 and had in a round-a-bout way asked if he had plans for Saturday night.  I wanted to see him (ok...I wanted to get naked with him).  "Don't be so submissive and just come over if you want to :)".  This is what I get from him.  He doesn't like his women meek.  But I digress.  I took the kids halfway across town to their grandmother's house.  This is where their dad lives.  Have I mentioned what a winner he is?  No?  That's because he's not.  It was awkward.  I stayed exactly 8 minutes.  I timed it.  Mini-Me was excited to see her dad, but Little Man was indifferent.  He realizes it's an obligation...he would have rather been at his friend's house.  I remember that feeling from when I was little, going to visit my mom.  In a couple years, I'll give him the option of whether or not he wants to go.
Holy Crap!!  I was alone!  I had no kids, I didn't have to worry about my mother being at my house...what was I going to do with myself??  I headed to Target.  I had to return a new bathing suit top that my boobs didn't fit in.  I actually got to walk around the store without distraction.  I looked at things I wanted to look at, without children wandering off, without cries of "Can I have this??!!!" and "I'm bored!!!".  It was amazing.  I got a dress for $8 and a cute pair of shoes for $5.  Sweet.  After dropping off my new items at home, I headed for C2's house.  We had a great visit.  I swam topless in his pool, I met his neighbor while swimming topless in his pool (funny shit.), I met his neighbor's friend while swimming topless in C2's pool (even funnier shit.), got rubbed down (sexy shit.), cuddled and watched funny videos (comfortable shit.), and left to go home at a reasonable hour (responsible shit.)
I skyped with C1 when I got home.  He was awake (which I didn't expect) and I wanted to talk to him.  We have had some distance lately.  It was weening...but I have yet to decide if I was weening myself from him or weening him from me.  The conversation was ok.  He didn't get why I had come home and not stayed at C2's house.  I explained my reasoning, but wasn't going to do it until I was blue in the face.  The conversation ended (for me) when he started fishing for compliments and reassurance.  "Why did you log on to Skype?  Were you looking for me or was it to talk to C2?  You didn't give me an answer..."  I didn't give him the answer he wanted. On purpose.  I saw through it, I saw what he wanted and needed, and I purposely did not give it to him.  I am a mental sadist.  If you are trying to pull something out of me, I'm not giving it to you.  It's that simple. Our conversations had become just that, whether he noticed it or not.  Me knowing exactly what it was that he wanted me to say and me not saying it.  Me purposely not opening myself up to him like I had in the beginning of our relationship.  I said goodnight (with no "I love you") and went to bed.

Sunday:  I got up at 6am.  6 AM.  It was worth it though.  C2 picked me up, we went to the store for ammo, and we went shooting.  We met up with some people that we've been hanging out with when he's in town.  It was fun!  I shot an automatic rifle and a Glock 9mm.  My camera died soon after we got there, which was disappointing.  I had forgotten to charge it.  I did notice that C2 was filming me with my guns.  It was cute.  He has subtle ways of showing that he likes me...I think I like it.  He put the videos on YouTube.  I want a gun now.  It's just one of the many things I want to learn about.  I'll be a girl with tattoos and guns...watch out.  Afterwards, he took me to brunch and we talked about things like religion and higher powers.  It's something I never talk about.  He brings things like that out in me.  He brings me out of my box on purpose...I like it.  C2 is so smart.  He ponders what seems like EVERYTHING, while I just exist in my own little world that I've created for myself.  Talking to him makes me feel like I don't know enough about the world I live in.  Not my personal world, but the actual world.  It was a great brunch.  There were dessertlets, small samplings of many desserts.  Yummy.  And lots of other tasty morsels.  Full and sleepy, he drove me home, and we parted ways.  I wanted a nap and had to get one in before picking up the kids later that day.  I was secretly hoping that their dad would want to keep them another night.  I wanted to spend more time with C2, but it didn't happen.  My night was spent with pizza and beer at home with Mini-Me.  I actually DID get invited out for dinner at one of the shooting buddy's home, but didn't go.  I spent my night on the computer.  I saw that C1 was online, but didn't talk to him.  We had texted a little and he told me about his weekend playing games with his wife and sleeping.  Interesting stuff.  He was holding back now.  Just before I decided I was going to bed, I got a breakup message on Facebook.  He is a bear and I am a butterfly.  Hmmmm.  I cried.  I knew it was coming eventually, whether it was from him or me...I guess it was better that it happened sooner than later.  I cried more.  I felt bad for hurting him.  I couldn't be that perfect 3rd person that he needed.  The perfect 3rd person loves her position, is friends with the wife, and they live harmoniously in the same existence.  I wasn't that girl.  I was in competition with her.  I was better for him.  I also didn't know if I could give him that constant reassurance that he needed.  So, I cried.  I cried for the hurt that I caused and the love that I could have had.  I cry now...like a bitch.  I knew the minute that I started thinking about E again that I had lost interest.  It makes me feel bad.  Everything C1 said in his message was true.  I responded by message as well.  It was easier for both of us, I think.  I'm not sure.  I was in a constant state of confusion while with C1...not knowing what I wanted.  I still feel like more of a monster than a butterfly.  C2 told me that people who can't control their emotions will always end up getting hurt. (He and I are alike that way.  Controlled emotions.  Not letting anyone in too much)  I think that it's brave when people open themselves up so fully, like C1.  I am not that brave. (fuck, Chicken, stop crying!!) Frank Sinatra, you are not helping with your crooning right now.

"I can't think about that now.  If I do, I'll go crazy.  I'll think about it tomorrow."  Scarlett O'Hara pulls on my Southern heartstrings.  I have laundry to do, a house to clean, a pool to visit, children to take care of, and a life to lead.  Breaking down isn't an option for me.  And, as C2 put it..."You still have me".  Yes, I do.  I'm glad for that.