My life is crazy. That is all there is to it. I am like a poor woman's Bravo reality show with a mix of Girls. Crazy ex who I am still in love with: Check. Drama with an ex husband: Check. Child who wants to be famous: Check. Exotic Locale: Check. (Come on - Atlanta has two shows - what's one more Orange County Show). Desperate Need of Patti Stanger?: Check. Yeah I could totally have a hit on my hands.
Season One would start with the fight with the ex. He rudely made a reference to how I think I have it all together and then dare to declare it in my blog when I am so f'ing clueless. After the initial sting (he is after all the king of go after something balls to the walls and then laying it to rest many dollars later when his passion for it faded), I found it funny because he has read the blog and should know that I am the first to proclaim I don't have a clue. That is half the reason the blog is still going strong. I use it as therapy, as a sounding board and as a story telling mechanism to try to make some sense of My So Called Life (Yes, I'm well aware I am no Clare Danes TYVM).. There have been many a time where I just needed to get it out of my head and into words to try to make whatever I was dealing with make sense. If you got a chuckle out of it, could relate or even gave you something to talk about or even think about - I am happy. I usually deal with things in a very self-deprecating and sarcastic manner. I sometimes find it hard to take matters seriously because it isn't how I am wired to deal with matters. This is why after a year and a half, my baby blog is growing as fast as my actual child.
Cut Scene: "I am TOTALLY clueless as to what I am doing - I am finally learning to work through it though."
Back Story: Last week was rough. I nearly had a total psychotic breakdown. Everything in my life was spinning out of control. The kind of tailspin where you start crooning Jesus Take The Wheel because letting go is probably your best option. I drove my most patient friend crazy, almost torched a bridge and was pretty sure I would never speak to the ex again except for matters of the kiddo. In the end though - I came out enlightened instead of more confused. I emailed someone I wasn't supposed to, but it helped. He calmed me down, but not once did I slip into the my usual "damnit you love me - deal with it and get on with it". There was none of the "damnit, I love you and I don't know why you are so f'ing stubborn." It was actually more like "I'm losing it - you are the only one who understands me when I get this way and that is all I need from you. No matter what our feelings are - our paths are not destined to become one and I am OK with them running parallel for now." I had huge text blow out with HH, who had the audacity to tell me I was mean and I hurt HIS feelings. I went off the handle as usual, but for once (after guidance from my shoulder Devil who has been acting more like the shoulder Angel) - reeled it back in and salvaged whatever the hell we have going on. I somehow even managed to work my way back into decent graces with my ex.
Brilliant Conclusion: I learned two very valuable lessons:
1) While I am TERRIFIED of being alone, I realize I am going to be that way for awhile and it is OK. There are parts of me I think are broken and sometimes it's ok that it can't be fixed right away. I need to focus on what I have going for me and work on improving the things that need minor adjustments instead of going for the wholesale changes.
2) I am not terrified of the opposite sex and am not terrified of the prospect of sex. It turns out that I was projecting a fear to mask the fact it isn't what I want deep down. That isn't to say the desire isn't there - it is - but this whole HH fiasco is showing me that I don't really want him. I just want HIM to WANT me. I want the adoration. I want the compliments. I want to be kissed and held and have my hair stroked while being told how beautiful I am. I want to think that when I pass him as I am going out the door for a run - I will drive him to distraction. I just don't want to have to act on it. While his naked backside is enough to make even the most stubborn gal weak; friend zone is probably our best bet. Granted there is a little more than friends, but less of anything else going on but still. I mean I can kind of snap my fingers and have him do whatever bidding I so choose without him asking anything in return. That kind of power can go to a gal's head though and I REALLY trying to keep that in check. It is nice to know that I will never starve because he is always trying to bring me dinner.
Cutaway scene: I'm getting there - slowly but surely. The journey isn't always fun and discovering your flaws suck. In the meantime - I am going to continue just trying to figure this all out.
And Andy Cohen - if you are out there - CALL ME! I really think I could be Bravo gold! I'm not sure it could be neatly wrapped up in a thirty minute segment, but I sure would have fun with the cut away interviews!
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