Well...well...well...

So, today I got proof that someone in a position of power was reading my blog and trying to use it against me. He betrayed himself in an email.

Fiction is such a fun tool. I think I'm going to stop playing with you now as I figured out how you were getting information about me. I wasn't sure if you were calling my in-laws, or if my ex and your employee were having an affair and the info came from pillow talk.

Now, I think you guys were cyberstalking me. Don't know how you found this blog. How many hours of taxpayer funded internet service did that take, dear one?

By the way, there will be a special place in hell for the person who signed me up for that swinger's club. I'm a prude. It's not nice to keep the horny people waiting for a response. You might want to fix that.

The lies, the forum posts, the bizarre emails - it all makes so much more sense now.

Stop it now, solve the problem or we will meet face to face. I promise...let me know if you want me to bring cookies.

Yep, I've got something up my sleeve. I haven't really kept it all that quiet, I'm sure the goons your boss sent to spy on me told you all about it. It wasn't my idea. I didn't want to have to do it but your little email to me today sealed the deal. That wasn't so bright my friend.

It was smart, however, having a videographer sit across from me in a restaurant. I do wonder if he bothered the turn the camera on. My cohorts didn't realize what was going on and I know they betrayed those plans to your lil' spy and his friend.

Your spy was very polite and, if you care to know...he spoke incredibly highly of his employer. He DID admit to working for you and knowing your boss and his parents. You should be quite proud that someone speaks of you and your boss in such a polite fashion.

I invited him back, of course. We need diverging viewpoints, you know.

To tell the truth, I'm going to miss playing with you....sigh...but I figured out where the half-truths originated. That was my goal all along.

Pretty cool, eh?

White Feathers and the Promise

So, I went out to look for a new computer because mine keeps on sporting the blue screen of death.

I found a cute lil’ thing for $190 bucks. It is purple, has a webcam and more memory than the one I’m using now. I may end up with that.

Walking out of the computer store, I stood at the parking lot wondering what the heck was wrong with me. I’m not supposed to feel like this. I’m old enough to know better.

I’m an actress. Why the heck can’t I hide what I’m feeling?

Then….a little white feather flew by and landed on my sleeve.

Crap….

Little white feathers always reminded me of HIM. They always did. They are beautiful no matter where they fly. They are pristine no matter where they go. Years ago, I promised to love him no matter where he went, no matter what he did, and no matter who he did it with.

Okay…I surrender.

If he wants to be my friend and if he wants to meet with me before I get over this dorky feeling, I have a plan. Yep, I will wear a huge turtle neck and horrifically padded bra so that I hide any manifestation of any feelings that occur on my chest or neck area.

And, we will meet at a gym or a place where hot firefighters hang out so that I can blame any abhorrent symptomology on someone else. I think that will do the trick.
I’ll also wear camphor perfume, buy some dorky glasses, and forgo shaving my legs for the next month or so.

That outta do it.

He’s my friend. I need to be there for him. If I have to look like an ape order to be there for him, so be it.

I’m sorry for pulling away due to my own issues. Still, conventional wisdom dictates that should an old flame begin feeling those feelings again, she should stay away until she simmers down so that there is not a repeat of traumatic experience.

I love HIM too much to ever, ever hurt him again.

Maybe my pulling away hurts him, too.

I'm sorry. Besides, he may find the situation mildly amusing. Everyone can use a laugh.

Love ya,

S.

Unwanted Holiday Gift Rant

Man, I'm freakin' cursing a lot.

I need to get busy... I've been trying to write, to record, to develop a class but my creative facilities are completely gone.

I'm terrified.

I don't know where I'm going to live in three months. I've been told that I have until March to get my affairs in order. My ex is going to go bankrupt. I'm going to be left hanging. I don't know what to do.

I've cried so much that I lost my voice three days ago. I haven't returned phone calls. I've done the bare minimum. I'm debating liquidating my assets and cancelling contracts I've made with others.

I am leaving so many beautiful people hanging.

I'm frightened and it's hard to do much when you're freaking out.

Then, today my old flame from high school wrote to me. I am so frightened for him. Five years ago, I had a dream that he got in a car crash while driving a gold car. I freaked out and prayed. Then, on the eve of the winter solstace, I had a dream that this man visited me, sporting a cane, around the holidays. In the dream, he walks up to my house and calls my name as I'm shoveling snow. His voice hadn't changed. He comes in and visits wearing a long sleeved burgundy shirt and blue jeans. He has the same eyes. We share coffee. He flirts. I get vertigo. He leaves.

Two years ago, he came to visit me. I hadn't seen him in 20+ years. He looked just like the man in my dream. During that visit, I experienced vertigo for the first time. It's gotten worse over the past two years. I've had it nearly daily since mid-July of this year.

Sadly, I've toned down my work, hoping I will heal soon. The constant spinning makes it hard to think.

For the past 15 months, I've actually began to have freakish fainting spells, too. It's a little bit comical. I'll be looking at something; the view will get distorted and look like a cool painting. Then, the next thing I know, I'm on the floor and hours have passed.

This must be psychosomatic.
I don't get it.

Anyway, this old flame drove out to Colorado six months ago. That turkey bought a GOLD car and met me for lunch! I warned him not to drive a gold car. Scorpios don't listen to Pisces. They should! I don't mean to brag but many people do know that I 'see things' I don't want to see and they usually take my advice. Not him (he was with me when I predicted a suicide and attempted murder - I guess he forgot about that). Dude!! What the heck?

On the day we met, I sat in that restaurant freaking out because I was terrified my vision would come true cuz he drove the car that I saw in my nightmares.

Five months later, he broke several bones and never told me how it happened. Sometimes he'll tell me the truth about the severity of his injuries; other times he will minimize it. I KNOW that he's in pain. I have nightmares about him to this very day. I'm scared for him.

I want to be his friend - he needs a friend now.....but-

my heart won't let me be a decent uncreepy friend!

I'm so damn mad at myself.

Today I learned that he's coming to town. I know he sees this stupid blog.

So....dear friend...

Please don't be angry if I stay away from you. I realized today that I'm feeling the most unfair feelings towards you. It will be awkward. When you see it in my eyes it will suck the life force from your veins. My love always did. Your blue eyes turned gray. Your joy went away. I hurt you and I cannot ever, ever do that again. You are my friend. Friends don't do that to each other.

What the he!!?

Yep...I think those flames came back. I think I love you and not in the 'I want to pick on you and set you up with my hot friend' kinda love.

I'm in rebound mode. It's not pretty.

Remember, those flames have the sting of hell....and that is not a good thing.

Oh, man....it would be ugly....so ugly.

Besides, I'm 20 pounds heavier. I'm losing my hair (seriously....in the past month my hair has gotten so damn thin that my stylist complained about it). I've got cellulite. I found one gray hair (in a place I will not use henna). My skin is as dry as....uh....a Rhino.........

and my promises are as good as a RINO.

My intellectual facilities have been moved aside by stupid thoughts of skyclad acrobatic maneuvers.

No...no...NO! This is bad.

So bad...

Love makes no sense....especially now....it is a bain! Friendship is all that counts.

What the he!! is wrong with me?

Doesn't this suck? So, unless I can get together with ten hot single women for a visit with you, I can't say as much as "hello." I figure ten hot ladies will keep you distracted enough to ignore me.
That's the only solution I have for the issue. HELP!!!

Forgive me. So, unless I promise to sit my butt on a pile of cold, cold snow with naked pictures of ....uh....

man, I'm not sure anything could turn this off ....

it is that bad.

I've got to avoid our hometown while you are here. I can send something to your Mom's house, if you'd like.

I, though, need to stay the heck away.

I love you too much to amuse you in this fashion. Funny as it may seem, this is the stuff Freddie Kruger creates on Elm Street.

Not good....

Forgive me. I want to be there for you -but- this is too damn strange.

I miss being a prude, damn it. So, unless I can behave myself, I'm going to hide out in a cave somewhere this holiday season.

Praying this will pass,

S.

P.S. Happy Holidays - May you unwrap someone that you'll enjoy!

Passive Aggressive Baking B!tch

So....

The man in the basement mentioned that he was going on a diet.

Apparently, some sex doc on a talk radio show said that a man loses the equivalent of 1" off his member for each 20 pounds he gains. I've spent about an hour trying to find a transcript of that radio show cuz I really have got to hear or see that quote for himself.

Since the day I met him, he was always 100 pounds overweight. He's gained an additional 100 pounds since he lost his job.  I'd estimate his weight to be over 450 pounds now.

No, I can't hypnotize him because I promised that I wouldn't do that to him (don't want to be unethical or anything). I can't play my subliminal/brainwave stuff around him because it puts him into seizures. I can't cook for him because our diets don't mesh well (he likes meat...I like tofu...it's weird).

But hey, it looks like someone else found a way to motivate an improvement of his diet!

I'm wondering, if perhaps, he thinks there is nothing down there now. Do men actually worry about their size of their package pushing into negative numbers? Like, are they thinking that they can gain so much weight that it turns in on itself?

I don't know.

Getting fat will not neuter any man or turn him into a girl. Trust me on that.

I'm thinking that the sex doc may have said that a woman may sense an overweight guy as being smaller but, seriously, that would only be a boring woman with no creativity and an inability to twist into bizarre shapes.

Sometimes being double jointed can be a blessing. For me, though, it's been a curse. Lax joints are more prone to injury. Sex is fun but physical therapy.....well....not so much.

Anyhow....I couldn't help but immediately utilize this information. I had a brief communication with another ex where I offered to have his favorite neighborhood bakery send him some goodies for Thanksgiving. I'm thinking $100 worth of rich buttery cookies ought to make up for the pain he put me through acting like a depressed daredevil dork muffin and scaring the sh!t out of me.

Just teasing.... I won't have the baker send him so much sugar. I'll be incredibly evil. We'll send him the sugar free cookies!! That will kill his tongue more than it will shrink his perception of his package! That way, we can kill two birds with one stone; destroy his ability to taste and to get funky with it.

Beware of the evil ex!

Or better yet...just avoid her!

Muahahahaha!

LOL!

P.S - Hey! It's fun being a brat. I'm sure he's glad he ran away by now.  He dodged a super duper bullet. If  he has any doubts, I can always send him a topless picture and, NO, it will not be anything like that sneaky cleavage shot he took with his camera in the coffee shop.

Yes...I know about that.

My ex has a spank bank. 
This one will be of me without support. All I have to do is get naked and aim the camera at my ankles.

Just when I think he'll never speak to me again....he surprises me! I'm beginning to wonder if this is what G.W. Bush felt like when he claimed that his mission in Iraq was accomplished.

Sigh.... when he DOES find his true lady love, I'm going to miss picking on him. It's actually kind of fun.

Love ya,

S.