Heavy bags

The last time I was at this airport was December 28, 2013.

I know because it was my husband’s birthday and we were heading home from a wonderful vacation.

Today, I stopped at the same Starbucks in the same terminal and walked by the cafe were I picked up a smoothie for him. One of his favorite things.

Little did I know, almost a year ago now, that during the entire vacation and even at the airport that day he was talking to her.

Yet for some fucking reason, today I missed him. I miss my travel buddy, the one who would hold my hand on the plane when the ride got bumpy, the one who would carry the heavy bags and always needed a snack before we boarded.

I saw a quote that’s pretty fitting in this situation.

“Just so we’re all clear, it’s okay to miss people you no longer want in your life.”

At times I miss him terribly. And at times I’d like nothing more than to see him in pain.

This airport is now my home airport. Not Denver. Not him.

I have a new life now.

I’m going to NYC to see my best friend. My family is flying in so I get to see them, too.

I can carry my own heavy bags.

My snack is an apple and green tea from Starbucks instead of the junk food he insisted on eating.

I’m blessed.

I’m fortunate.

I’m going to have an amazing weekend.

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One and done

It didn’t take long at all.

I started chatting with a new guy because I apparently like putting myself through horrible conversations and situations.

This one lasted all of one message. (Photo is at the end of this post)

I was so offended I didn’t even bother responding.

There’s more bad news. Mr. L is back. We started talking again because we are both lonely beings in new worlds — more like in each other’s world. He moved to my hometown four months after I moved to his. I may be seeing him when he is in town for Thanksgiving.

I’m leaving for New York City tomorrow. Planning to see my very gay best friend who lives there and visit with family. It’ll be a nice escape from working so much!

I’ve officially been here for six months. Sometimes I can’t believe it’s been that long and other times I say that’s it?

Not to toot my own horn, but I think I’ve done beyond well moving to a place where I don’t know a single soul. I’m unbelievably happy considering what I went through in January.

I haven’t heard a peep from fuck face (ex-husband who cheated). So that’s been nice! He still pays me every month for that, uh, “wedding” we spent $10,000 on. Bad choices.

Oh and I got way too flirty with a neighbor the other night. Clearly alcohol was involved. I also chatted up a new guy I met during that same party. He asked for my number (though I think he was pressured into it by a mutual friend). Obviously I haven’t heard from him.

I really need this escape for a few days.

Until next time blog world ❤️

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A yellow bug & an arranged marriage

So that attractive divorced Indian guy from Seattle I spoke of in my last post?

More like not-so-attractive, drives a yellow bug, was involved in an arranged marriage, might be gay, stage five clinger.

We met on match.com and during the date he told me he was concerned I was still talking to other men on the website because he had been looking to see when I was “last active.”

This stuff is too good to make up.

The next day he called and texted multiple times. Not one of which I responded to.

And yesterday I cut things off with him. And by cut off I mean sat on the phone for an hour trying to explain what chemistry was and how we didn’t have any.

He was mad. I finally hung up on him and was free at last.

Or so I thought.

He called tonight. I didn’t answer. He texted to say he called to apologize. Then this happened:

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I’m sure that’s not the end of yellow bug guy.

And just an update: my dermatologist took four skin biopsies from my back, stomach, leg and left boob. I’ve got large holes on my body now and was told to stay out of the water and away from the sun for two weeks. Awesome. It’s Florida, all there is is water and sun!

Introducing Mrs. Therapy

I finally made an appointment to see a therapist.

Because, let’s face it, I’ve got some fucked up feelings about love, trust and relationships in general.

Over the phone she asked a few basics like if I’m single, dating or married. I responded with “newly divorced.”

She then asked if I was familiar with the area because her building is hard to find. I admitted that I didn’t know the area and had moved to Florida less than six months ago.

She responded with “oh wow, I can see why you might be coming to see me then.”

Yes thank you Mrs. Therapy, I clearly am dealing with some fucked up shit.

The woman is booked and I have to wait a month to see her. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Let me get you up to speed on what else I’ve been doing.

I went on yet another terrible date with a short man who told me just before meeting me he picked up his sleeping mask for sleep apnea.

I stopped talking to Mr. L, the guy I was sort of dating when I moved here — then he moved to Denver (WTF!) He kept calling me babe and want to have phone sex every night. That got old fast.

I made an appointment to see a dermatologist because I live in Florida now and my awesome tans could lead to cancer. Oh and because I currently have at least 10 pimples on my face. I feel like I’m back in middle school.

My job announced they will be making layoffs.

I apparently made quite the concerned face during the meeting because our top editor pulled me into his office and told me to relax because I’m not going anywhere.

I started chatting with an attractive, divorced guy from Seattle. He lives here now and comes from Indian parents. I was very excited until my gay best friend told me the guy probably isn’t circumcised. Great.

I’ve been to the beach, a lot. I’m here as I’m writing this. The beach is my happy place and the thing that keeps me sane. Except for that possible cancer part.

Oh and I’ve decided to get a roommate. Because I’m broke.

Until next time blog world ❤️

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A little story on karma

Let me tell you a little story.

After about three months of being separated from fuck face (read: ex-husband who cheated) my very gay uncle who I love dearly sent me a letter. He told me how awesome of a person I am and that he and his partner are thinking about me. He also used a few curse words involving fuck face’s name.

Also in the letter was a very little woven man who he named David.

He said he once got one of these little men from a friend. And legend says if you name the little man after someone you don’t care for, then drop said man in a small cup of water and freeze him, it will help you get over those bad feelings.

That little man was taped to the letter on my refrigerator until two weeks ago when, after being so tired of for some damn reason thinking about fuck face, I finally dropped “David” in to a cup of water and froze that little ass hole.

On Monday, I received this:

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I told my grandmother, who laughed. Then said OK, take him out of the freezer and let him thaw out for a while. He really needs a job so he can pay you.

He is thawing out on the stove.

Mission accomplished

You guys I finally did it.

I went on a first date that was SO bad I left after 45 painful minutes..

I did it, I’ve hit rock bottom in the dating world.

I found him on match.com. (Damn you match!) We were supposed to go paddle boarding but It was about to rain when I showed up. I’d gladly welcome the rain after what I saw when I arrived. He was about 10 years older and 20 pounds heavier than his photos. He also smelled. If that wasn’t bad enough he talked about how before consulting, he used to market condoms and vibrators. He proceeded to tell me more about vibrators than I’d ever like to know. Oh and he brought his very little dog along that used to be his girlfriends. Her visa expired so she had to go back to China. Lucky bitch.

After 30 minutes of walking in the beach I claimed I was being bitten by bugs. He offered a drink at his place, I said no thank you and got the fuck out!

I’m still quite grossed out from the entire interaction. UGH!

It can only get better from here right?

I may be throwing in the towel for a while. This whole dating thing isn’t working. For now, I’ll continue to get my needs met through phone sex with Mr. L. But please, stop me if you think this is a terrible idea.

Cute, gross

I’m tired of all the cuteness on Facebook today.

I keep seeing photos of everyone with their significant others, wedding photos and baby photos. Gross. can you all stop please?

I’m just over here hoping I don’t become a crazy cat lady one day.

Here’s what’s going on…

I’m kinda over the fisherman. The guy complains about work ALL the time. For 37 he is quite lost in life and really I just can’t take it anymore. Sorry dude, the back rubs and cooking skills are not quite enough to keep me around. The problem though? I don’t know how to cut it off! I’ve been avoiding him the past few days. Today he tried to invite himself to a party with my friends. Me = smothered. And not a burrito with green chili unfortunately.

I had a Match.com date. Then I cancelled it.

I’m a little lost. I’ve had a few dreams about fuck face (read: ex-husband) and it’s brought out some emotion I didn’t realize I had.

On a positive note, I’m waking up inside. For more than eight months now, I’ve been numb — dead inside. That’s what catching your husband telling another woman he loves her will do to you.

It’ll also make you lose weight, change your whole life and never trust another human being again.

What I do know is I’m not ready for anything serious. But, I’d like to find a nice, attractive guy who has his shit together to keep me company. And have a lot of sex. A girl’s got needs OK?

If you all know of any of those beings, send ‘em my way, deal?

End rant.