Feeling It Out

  
Last night’s date with “The Nerd” turned out to be the best date I’ve had in a long time. He wasn’t a nerd at all… As a matter of fact, this man was gorgeous and very much my type. He’s one whose photographs don’t do him justice and when he walked in we were both pretty happy. He was affectionate, he was hysterically witty, and made eye contact with me. 

He was in exceptional shape which intimidated the hell out of me because I’m not. 

After coffee we just walked around the square in the town I grew up in many times. I was sad the shops were closed because I had so many things I wanted to show him.

I let him drive my brand new sports car to his own car. We took several blocks before he pulled over close to his car.

He put both hands on either side of my face and kissed me tenderly, and twice.

We’ve agreed that we will both be busy over the weekend but I’m sure we will text (we did today). We agreed that we will see each other again next week. 

Keep your fingers crossed, because there’s something about this man that is a keeper. I will also refer to him as “The Gentle Marine” instead of “The Nerd” because that’s what he is.

Let’s just see….

-THAT Crazy Girl 

FMDL 

  
I can’t believe it’s been three weeks since I’ve blogged. My life has been insanity and I’ve celebrated the birthday of my son becoming an adult. I’ve been in an emotional funk of sorts. His 18th birthday was harder on me than I’d ever expected. It came out of nowhere the second week of March and I’ve experienced inherent sadness all month. This is the closest I’ve come to being truly depressed in many years.

My baby boy is an adult. I can’t protect him anymore. It’s gut wrenching in a way I hadn’t expected, like getting the wind knocked out of me.

FMDL is actually my “dating” life not my “damned” life, but I’m still in a funk needless to say.

But enough about that….

So here’s my life in a nutshell:

1. I’m arguing with my ex and not speaking to him at the time. I’m tired of being his listening ear but seeing him do nothing about it. My daughter is unhappy. Only he can fix this.

2. I’m still involved with “Crazy Ex Girlfriend”. I have no valid reason as to why other than I loved him once, still love him and cannot resist his sexiness. He’s the best I’ve ever had. I can keep having it whenever I want. The situation is so incredibly fucked up, though, and I know I won’t be able to make a life with him, sadly, but in the meantime, great sex.

3. The Murse. This guy is so goddamned boring that all I can type is this sentence.

4. The Attorney. I really liked this guy a lot. Great chemistry, very handsome, and we spent St. Paddy’s together. That was our third date and now he’s ghosting. I will not chase any man. 

5. The Nerd. This date happens tonight. I’m feeling this guy out (not literally). He seems a tad needy and a bit moody. Needy is an absolute NO for me. Non-negotiable. We will see how it goes.

6. Creepy Cop expected to get laid. I proceeded to show him laid… Laid into for being a creepy sonofabitch. 

7. Veteran Cop is new. I can’t decide if I like him because he’s 51 and I date younger. He also has a cop stache but he’s pretty funny and of equal intelligence, sharp witted and I’ll see how that goes.

I think that’s enough of an update for now. Sorry for falling off the planet, but y’all already know I go silent.

-THAT Crazy Girl 

Sneaky Flame App Redux

  

I feel like the weakest woman on the planet sometimes. When it comes to this goddamned app I have the self control of the world’s fattest man in a Krispy Kreme doughnut shop.

Before you judge, though, let me tell you what I did. 

The entire last year on that app was so depressing. At 46 I put my photos up, was nice and rarely even got a message. I look the same, save the blonde highlights I got recently. 

Apparently 47, a tad blonder, a tiny touch of cleavage (tiny… I mean it. I’m a DDD. If I were to put my boobs on Tinder NOTHING about it would be tiny and I’d have 5000 legitimate fucking perverts to weed through) and I let my true self shine through. That means I’m a total fucking sarcastic smart ass this time around. 

I made my new profile less than 48 hours ago and I’ve already been on a date and have more than 200 messages in my box. From hot guys 35-50 (my realistic age range) who have been respectful so far. Is 47 the new 30? Do blondes really have more fun? Can men really handle my sarcastic, witty self? How did I not know this? 

  
Last night’s date was mediocre. We knew each other in middle school come to find out. He’s exceptionally boring. He’s done a lot of therapy. He’s nice but not my type. I didn’t tell him his facial hair looked awful on him and he was much more handsome before he started running marathons (i.e. 75 pounds heavier). I won’t see him again.

I have another date tonight and my dance card is full through next week. Don’t ask me what changed other than a couple of photos and letting my true asshole shine through. Apparently men find that funny. I wish I had known all it took was being honest.

I also have a new outlook on this. I’ve shown interest in guys that I normally wouldn’t have. Instead of 6′ I’ve dropped it to 5’10. I’ve expanded my ages to a little older (but they still have to be handsome). I’ve let up on not liking the dad bod a little bit. 

My hopes aren’t up, but my vigor is renewed.

I give it two weeks.

-THAT Crazy Girl 

  

Deleted.

  
This week has been, by far, the most stressful week I’ve experienced in a very long time. My deadlines are looming at work and the hours I’ve put in are astronomical. I’ve fallen into bed every night, exhausted and have woken up in a panic every morning. This aligns with dating, how, you might ask? Well, for one thing, any attention whores that I was talking to have been told to fuck off. These are the men who require an immediate response and get mad when they don’t get one. I was talking to a few on OKC and it made me so mad that I deleted my account completely. Ain’t nobody got time for needy.

My priorities are:

1. My kids

2. My job

3. My friends and family

4. Books

5. Netflix

6. Facebook, Instagram and Twitter

7. Folding Laundry

8. Scrubbing Toilets

9. Eating

10. Answering texts or messages on online dating sites

I think I’ve decided that being single is OK and that Cupid can go straight to online dating hell.

-THAT Crazy Girl

Back Burner Flames

  
I’m not a cook. Anyone in my life will tell you that, so it doesn’t hurt my feelings. I also work 50+ hours per week so cooking?I am not the one. My specialties are things that are easy, but delicious like spaghetti or casseroles.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I’ve no need for back burners on my stove. I don’t have anything simmering away, wafting scents of garlic or cinnamon throughout my home.

Men are the same. No, I’m not going to be the cinnamon in your life, Cheer Dad. I won’t be your garlic, Crazy Ex Girlfriend.

I also won’t sit on simmer for you, Ex Husband, Big Mistake, or any OKC Guy.

I am not a simmering sauce.

I am a fucking rolling boil on the front burner.. Or the stove, my friends, is off.

-THAT Crazy Girl 

Damn, Daniel

If you’ve been living under a rock or aren’t a parent to a teenager (especially girls) let me introduce you to the “Damn, Daniel” sensation

Damn, Daniel
For the past 24 hours all I’ve heard from my daughter is how gorgeous Daniel Lara is and we’ve all been saying “Damn, Daniel!” for a day.

I love things that just make me laugh like a well timed dirty joke or a hilarious video. The fact that my daughter has fallen in love with both the subject of the video (I’d say he was dreamy if I were 12) and the unknown, hilarious voice in the background of his friend makes this video pure joy for me. 

I’ve watched it no less than 25 times and every time I laugh.

So, to all of you, you are my “Daniels”….

DAMN.

-THAT Crazy Girl 

Cheer Dad

  

I didn’t intend for my blog to make me sound like a hussy, but let’s be clear.. I am a consenting adult, I have been divorced over five years. I have been single a little over three of those five years so let’s just hope my kids never get ahold of my blog, mmmmkkkkk?

In any event, I’d like to talk about cheer dad. 

Cheer dad was just that. His daughter was in cheerleading with my daughter. He’s not a bad looking guy, really! He lives in my town. He saw me at a football game, sent me a friend request on Facebook and it was all downhill from there.

He’s concerned with small town politics.. I’m not. I grew up around here and know everyone. All these soccer and cheer mom cliques that moved into town after I left? I don’t give a damn about what they think. I grew up with the old money. The town’s originals. Driving to a game with my kids and walking in, I know half the town. So what? It’s 1400 people in 2016. It’s not that big of a deal!

Cheer dad was “concerned” (I’m feeling so sweet today) about what the other parents might “think” if we were together so we had a brief fling, I took him seriously when he said he didn’t want a girlfriend or relationship and blew him off the past four months.

Today cheer dad sent me a text to go to dinner. I told cheer dad I was “seeing” someone which is NOT a lie. I am… Just a few months from now when he gets this psycho ex bullshit wrapped up. I was met with this response:

  
THA. FUCK. 

Damn, Daniel! (<—- Hip mom. Look it up!) 

He’s right. He would make a good boyfriend. I would’ve taken him on as a prospect. He was surprisingly “adept” if you know what I mean? Bragged to my friends, “adept”.

He was also on every single dating site I was on and we’d message each other and laugh.

I seem to have a moral to my stories lately. The moral of this story is SPEAK UP. Tell her. 

I don’t do hints.

-THAT Crazy Girl 

Dream A Little Dream

  
Good Morning! It’s 5:30 in the morning and I have to get this down or I’ll forget. I’m hoping maybe Survived Narc can help me interpret this one. I think I already know the answer, but wait! There’s more.

My life is the epitome of “But Wait, There’s More!” The strength of heart and mind that has been required over the years to get through this thing called life has been extraordinary.

I went to bed last night in a great mood, having watched “The Proposal” and laughing with both of my kids and my son’s girlfriend. Earlier in the day, however, I’d had three conversations with men that had brought nothing but sadness and tears, each with an ex. The first was an “I love you, but I can’t be with you until this is over” conversation with the most recent man I’ve told you about. He is, to me, who I’d want to be wrapped up in every day if I could be, but I can’t, so I won’t. In the past three years I’ve learned that I come first. It makes me a better woman and mother if I put those who aren’t my immediate family on the back burner. The second ex is the father of my children. He’s been part of my life for 25 years. We talk every day. Yesterday our talk brought me to tears, because, quite frankly, I carried his burdens and mine for 17 years, especially being a police officer’s wife and he tends to put too much on me as far as discussion goes. I can’t solve his current marital problems being his previous marital problem and I told him so. The third ex I’ve mentioned before, here  Toxic, Probablyonly briefly as someone I came together with a few years ago during a period when we both were suffering. I’ve known him since I was young. To say that the situation isn’t fucked up like a soup sandwich would be a lie. I’ve told him many times now that we can only be friends, yet he pushes, I’m stressed and have to push back. He has a wife. I’m not proud of that. They were separated when we became intimate. Now they’re not. Judge not, friends. It’s a tangled web.

So on to my dream. I must preface this with the fact, that as a lifelong insomniac who once went almost 22 days without more than an hour’s sleep per night (it makes you literally psychotic in case you wanted to know) that I take Ambien to sleep. I’ve heard of Ambien dreams but really hadn’t experienced any vivid dreaming until last night.

Here it is:

I was an exorcist of sorts. A regular castor out of demons, ghosts and otherworldly things. This dream was in black and white except for small, weird parts in color like a wedding part and the sinkhole parts. I’d been called by a family to cast out their ghosts and I was good at it. I felt every single spirit in the homes. I felt legitimately terrified during this dream and saw ghosts of all sorts. I was also walking through the house cleansing it and shouting “In the name of Jesus Christ, I repel thee” (there’s a movie line if I’ve ever heard one). There was a family that was haunted and two ladies. They were both old, gigantic houses full of rooms and closets. It’s almost like these were set in the 50’s old South with the dress, cars, and old, rickety homes. In the ladie’s home they were shouting “In the name of Lazarus” but I digress…

These ghosts and what I feel now was a tiny demon disguised as a chubby baby girl (I may have actually said this at one point during parenting 11 or so years ago!)  were everywhere. Every corner, every room, every closet was a different entity that I had to cast out. In both scenarios they’d take me to what they perceived as the most haunted areas of their houses and I’d cast those suckers out. 

The most vivid ghost of all was that of a tall woman dressed as a 1950’s flight attendant who came out of a closet, floated across the floor right in front of me to the elevator and said she had to go. She was beautiful and ethereal and I couldn’t stop looking at her. I wondered how many years she’d spent her life floating across that floor saying she had to go? It was devastatingly sad.

*I must put an author’s note here that I believe very much in the supernatural. I’ve lived in a haunted home and I am what people like to call “empaths” these days. I take on the feelings of those around me very easily. I have to watch that and fight it or I can get sucked into their sadness. Thanks, therapy!

There was a recurring color scene in both houses. Sinkholes. I was walking, dealing with these ghosts and suddenly the ground would give and sink into the Earth underneath me, barely making it out with my life. Twice this happened, once inside the ladie’s home and the second time in the yard of the family’s home, which sucked my car and the ground beneath my feet into the pool area. The husband of the family was constantly near me, trying to protect me. He had glasses and looked like my friend’s husband Chris. He’s a kind guy so makes sense, but I haven’t seen him in years.

The family was just fucking weird. The wife had this drawn look like she’d had a hard life. She wore an old dress.. A smock really and had a gaggle of children running around. They took me from room to room showing me where the ghosts were, depending on me to set them free. Invoking the name of Jesus, I was helping them one by one. It was the same for the two women.

Let me talk about the baby, though. She was a toddler, really, a fat, chunky little thing who should’ve been adorable but I could see through her. I felt like she was a demon, and she was everywhere. I was chasing her, she was destroying everything in sight like a baby does but the mom and I were exhausted chasing her around. 

  
A strange scene during the dream in color was a wedding that was taking place in front of the family. I was unable to see the bride and groom, but I was observing the family sitting on the couch, the little baby on the mom’s lap glaring at me. They were holding up an old rotary phone so that someone could hear the wedding. 

During the very last of the dream the baby toddled outside and was missing. I chased her to a parking lot where a police officer was sitting in a old style police vehicle. He got out to help her and I screamed “Noooooooo!” Guess what, another sink hole sucked him right into the Earth. She grinned at me and I woke up.

HOW FUCKED UP IS THIS DREAM?!? 

I need to add that when I woke up I wasn’t scared. My 12 year old daughter was wrapped tightly around me. She is such a sensitive child. I think somehow that baby knew that I needed her snuggles. Rarely does she sleep with me, but to wake up enveloped in my child with her lightly snoring beside me was the best feeling in the world.

I think I know who I am in this dream. I’m the exorcist. The person everyone depends on to solve their problems. I’m also the ghost, always saying “I have to go”. The sinkholes? I think that’s me getting sucked into other people’s problems. The baby? She was just a creepy little thing that nightmares are made of.

The moral of this story? I need to stop being friends with my exes. 

Secondly, I may have a promising career in casting out demons. Oh wait… That’s my everyday life.

-THAT Crazy Girl 

Dick Pics and Other Atrocities

  
Ahhhhh the dick pic. Why, oh why, do men feel the need to send photos of their junk to unwitting women like me? Before all of these social media sites and teeny computers in our hands (unless you have an IPad or a Galaxy Note) these were non-existent. At no time thirty years ago did a single man take a Polaroid of his junk and mail it to a woman he’d never met (as far as I know). There used to be a time that CVS wouldn’t develop nudes so I’m PRETTY sure no guys developed low resolution photos of their weiners and sent them on their way.

Things men need to know about sending unsolicited photos of their penises:

1. We send them to all of our friends, and laugh and laugh, then take a nap.

2. We aren’t even as remotely impressed as you are.

3. JUST STOP IT RIGHT NOW!

I have received more pictures of dude’s junk without asking for it in the past five years then I’ve actually seen in real life. I do not understand why a man thinks that before I see his beautiful smile or even his abs that I’d want to see his weiner, up close and personal. In case no one has told you, it’s called “bumping uglies” for a reason.

I have nothing even remotely sexy in my pictures. I don’t have shots of my boobs or butt that would say “Oh, hey! I can’t wait to see your private parts RIGHT THIS SECOND!”

The other thing that grosses me out to no end are feet. If you like sucking toes, that’s all you, friend. For me, feet are for walking and tucking under the covers to avoid monsters under the bed and that’s it. Nothing else. I was a little creeped out on Twitter recently (nothing new… You have to have a thick skin on Twitter to get through the madness) when I got this message:

  
OK…

1. My feet do look pretty damned awesome! Those flip flops were cowhide!

2. That photo is from over 4 years ago.

3. I do not recall putting anything of the like on Twitter.

How do people find this stuff? They are my feet. This message is two days old. I don’t understand the foot fetish thing at all, but he was very sweet about it.

Off I go to check in on my various accounts. I wonder what kind of weirdness I’ll see tonight?

  
-THAT Crazy Girl 

Out Of The Blue

No sooner did I sign up for OKC then a guy I dated right before I met the “ex-fiancée” contacted me on Facebook out of the blue. We dated for some time but ultimately, we didn’t work out. He was a good guy and kind. We drifted apart because of how far away we lived from each other (an hour and 1/2) and because things were never made clear that he cared about me deeply until after I moved to Detroit.

I’d always thought of him often. If nothing else, just wondering how he was, but we lost each other’s numbers. 

To say I was glad to hear from him was an understatement. Not only is he kind, but he’s handsome and sweet. Our physical connection was like the 4th of July. Fireworks went off when we touched each other. His kisses made my toes curl. I’ve told him and stand by the this, that he was the best I’d ever had. He says the same about me.

Needless to say, I spent several hours with him yesterday and again this morning. It’s like no time has passed between us.

When we went our seperate ways he met a woman and became involved with her. They lived together and were in a relationship for a year. Apparently, when he decided things were over and tried to leave, she turned violent. I felt for him as he heartwrenchingly told me what happened and showed me the scars where she injured him permanently and the bite marks. I know this man and how he was raised. He is not an abusive man, nor had he ever so much as raised his voice to me when we dated. He’s friends with his ex-wife and they’re raising their boy together with no animosity.

I was stunned when he told me that this ex girlfriend accused him of abuse the night he tried to leave and that they both went to jail.

Now she’s been making his life a living hell. I won’t go into all the details but the only thing she’s managed not to cost him was his job and his son.

He told me this morning that he would understand completely if I ran the other way. My heart is heavy because we were so good together and still are. 

I’m not sure what I can do at this point other than think about whether or not all of this is worth it. There’s court coming up and there’s the distance between us. He’s never been to jail before this happened. I validated what he told me and pulled up the details from the arrests for both of them.

Sometimes I feel like someone is playing a cruel trick on me to have him come back into my life and then have this be the situation. 

I know people make mistakes. I want to support him, but have no idea what the future holds.

I do realize this is my decision and my decision only, but feeling like I’ve been punched in the stomach and incredible anxiety and worry for his well being and that of his son is all I’ve felt since he left today.

To say I have the worst luck in relationships might be the understatement of the century. 

Why does love have to be so painful? I guess if it were easy, everyone would have it.

-THAT Crazy Girl