Dislike Emotion

Day 1: Something you hate about yourself.

I hate that I am emotionally incompetent.

As Peace says you are so strong in every other aspect of your life, but you suck at emotions.

It’s so so true. The idea of emotions and me in the same sentence or thought makes me extremely uncomfortable. I have a lot of these moments recently, which doesn’t really help matters, with Clapper.

He has tried to have “The Talk” (the dating talk that is) with me, to which I responded, “I don’t really do emotions so we aren’t having this conversation.” And then I changed the subject. He has also professed everything that he likes about me (in an 8-minute long rant mind you), during which I talked over him, tuned him out, got physically worked up to the point that I wanted to flee the room as quickly as possible (but he wouldn’t let me), uncomfortably nervous, told him was spewing utter bullshit out of his mouth, and even as I’m recalling this right now my throat is constricting. I have an emotional peanut allergy and I really fucking need an EpiPen.

I hate that I react this way to people and situations. I don’t cry in front of people, ever. It’s a no no. I can count on two hands the number of people that have truly seen me lose  my nugget. Moreover, I can count on one hand the number of people that have ever seen me truly vulnerable. I do not allow most people to get close to me at all. It’s a defensive measure to ensure that I don’t get hurt. My instant reaction when I legitimately like someone is to push them as far away as possible, and that is not normal but any standard.  The thought of allowing someone to get close enough to me to really know me (besides Sunshine) makes me want to vomit. Marriage. HA! Although it is desired, I’m perfectly ok with not acting on it ever.

But through and through, the psychologist in me tells me to get the fuck over it. I’m being completely irrational and I do not/ can not withstand to be like this forever without turning into a miserable old fuck who won’t be able to relate to anyone that I care about now. I will become the black sheep of society, not just my family.

I am working to get past those boundaries of emotions, but it is not easy. I am fighting, yet telling myself that I’m being a sissy about it. Thankfully, with the encouragement and patience of my friends, I will find a happy medium at some point.

Lord knows that between Peace and Clapper, I will have enough emotions for the whole universe.

I Like Him.

God damn it. I can’t believe I am actually going to utter these words.

I like Clapper.

I legitimately fucking like him and he makes me happy.

(Going to vomit. Be right back.)

Seriously, I like him. I want to spent loads of time with him and I (kinda) want to spill my guts to him (but I’m also not stupid and know better than to do that).

I have sorta admitted this to him, which is more than I can say for most people in the past that have crossed my path.

Mr. Breadstick, Ms. Ineedacheeseburger, Charlie  and Peace told me to stop being sissy basically and to get over my irrational fear of showing anyone any remote sense of emotion. And, well, I’m working on it. It’s slow and painful and it makes me very uncomfortable.

As I previous told Peace this week, “I’d rather suffer in my own silence then let someone know that they have had an emotional affect on me.”

Peace later told me that I deserved a man like Clapper because he is a lot of what I need in a partner (basically).

So I consulted my list (yes I really do have a list) to see how many of the “requirements” he meets. Clapper means a lot of them. He is:
has common sense,
knows what a mason jar is (need to ask. He is a yankee, so…)
makes me laugh (a lot actually),
affectionate (extremely),
kinda on the non-plan plan (so far),
has a big heart,
love unconditionally (let’s not get ahead of ourselves now),
has goals,
wants children (time the fuck out…I actually wrote that!?! My, my how things have changed and I don’t know what his answer is. Need to ask.),
not worry about money (we don’t discuss it),
have a truck (SUV…close enough for a city slicker),
love animals (that he does not),
act proper and mature (when necessary),
not a momma’s boy (doesn’t seem so, but we shall see. Need to ask.),
not an asshole for a father (Need to ask list.),
communicate well (he does!),
fight back (not crossing that bridge yet),
simple in a way,
understanding (is he ever),
open minded,
well traveled,
cares about self (he has quotes written down everywhere),
nice body (snicker, snicker),
heart-warming smile,
know how to drive (once again he is yankee),
perk to play an instrument (need to ask list).

So, that would be 34 items checked off the list, 1 item that he does not meet and 7 unanswerables.

Not too shabby.

Drive Of Pride

I can’t believe I have to say this twice in one week to Peace, but you are right. (Hurts my pride.)

Clapper came over after his long day at work. And I really do mean long day. He didn’t make it to my apartment until midnight. But he did in fact keep his promise and we got to hang out. All night in fact.

For an hour or so we talked. Well he talked. I made off hand remarks and laughed. He makes me laugh a lot. Then he suddenly announced, “You have 9 minutes to do what you got to do and then we are going to bed.”


I decided not to fight it. I finished my wine, washed my glass, and got ready for bed. We crawled in bed together and the thought of bumping uglies never even crossed my mind. (Shocking.) I laid down on my right side like I always do.

“Are you really going to lay with your back to me so I can’t kiss you?”

Um. Whoops? I didn’t know that was an option. So I rolled over and we chatted some. I was mid sentence when he cut me off announcing, “I’m going to kiss you.” And then he did. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. And it did each time he kissed me.

But I didn’t panic. I may have stopped breathing but I didn’t panic.

I relaxed and fell into a deep sleep. It was normal. I didn’t think about it. I fit just right in the crook of his arm, which also made an excellent pillow since he took 4 of the 5 I have on my bed.

He rarely moved and he didn’t snore. He randomly would squeeze me tight in the middle of the night. I’d wake up to sneeze (and yes I did blow my nose in front of him), and when I rolled back toward him, he would kiss me on the forehead. I made a note to sneeze more often.

Clapper was very affectionate but didn’t push his limits. He stayed within the boundaries. He made no effort to do more than just kiss me, which I greatly appreciate.

When we woke up this morning it wasn’t awkward. He rolled over and kissed me on the forehead just because he could. It was the weirdest thing ever. My usual reaction is to play along and get the guy up and out of my house quickly without making it look that way. But I didn’t want him to go.

I actually wanted to spend time with Clapper. It was a mindless reaction and completely emotional. (Ew.) I never second guessed it because my gut told me that it was ok.

But him staying was not an option. He had to go to work. We got up, made light conversation. During which he pondered how many honks he’d get on his walk of shame. He quickly corrected himself noting that it really wasn’t a walk of shame if he liked it. I told him it was the drive of pride, even though he was walking. (Thank you Ms. EatsPlentyOfCheeseburgers.)

He kissed me and left. It wasn’t a goodbye. It was an I’ll see you later.

And it feels right.

I Have To Share My Birthday

I have to share my birthday. It is inevitable, and I’m ok with it…unless I actually know the person that I have to share it with. Then I’m not a happy camper.

Either way, I did a little digging. Check on which famous people I share a birthday with.

John Le Carré–He is a UK author and I’ve never read any of books, much less heard of them.

Annie Smith Peck–A famous climber from the US.

John Edward–An author and apparently a psychic. He had a TV show called “Crossing Over with John Edward”.

Jason Reitman–Film Director. His most popular films were “Juno” and “Up in the Air”.

Robert Reed–Also known as Mike Brady from “The Brady Bunch”.

Charles Edward Merrill–As in the co-founder of the investment banking company Merrill Lynch.

Ty Pennington–Formally of the show “Trading Spaces”. Now host of “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition”. None of this matters because when he takes off his shirt, no one is listening to what he saying. Yum.

Evander Holyfield–A professional boxer known mainly because he had his ear beaten off by Mike Tyson.


After review the list, I was a bit disappointed. So I decided to check 0ut a few of my friend’s birthday to see if they shared it with anyone hip. This is what I found.


Ms. EatsPlentyOfCheeseburgers (April 13) shares a birthday with Samuel Beckett, and Thomas Jefferson.

Iamsohip (April 19) shares a birthday with Kate HudsonJames FrancoJesse JamesAshley Judd, and Maria Sharapova.

Ma (April 23) shares a birthday with John CenaGeorge LopezShirley TempleWilliam Shakespeare, and Timothy McVeigh.

Wee (April 26) shares a birthday with Jet LiKevin James, and Carol Burnett.

Clapper (June 14) shares a birthday with Boy GeorgeHarriet Beecher Stowe, and Donald Trump.

Sunshine (Oct 14) shares a birthday with UsherRalph LaurenE. E. CummingsDwight D. Eisenhower, and William Penn.

Peace and Boot (Dec 2) share a birthday with Britney SpearsNelly FurtadoStone Phillips, and Gianni Versace.


Also anyone born on Feb 12 must know that I am extremely jealous. You share a birthday with my secret lover Abraham Lincoln.

Status Quo Failure

Dear FireNY,

First, I’d like to thank you for your time and attention. Second, I’d like to commend you on your efforts of attempting to be a good person. However, I am reluctant to inform you that your efforts have fall short of the status quo, just as Peace and PR predicted.

You see when I first met you, I mistakenly thoguht that you were innocent. I was quickly proven wrong by your adventurous notions with Peace with an unregard care for your girlfriend at the time. However, that is not my bone to pick with you. It is Peace’s. But shame on you son.

See my faults with you lie with in this very sentence. Your ways of wording tell the whole story when you only speak half the truth. You dig your own grave and are too busy looking up to realize you are sinking, and quickly might I had at that.

Have you ever heard the term “give them just enough rope to hang themselves”. If not, you have now. Moreover, it is exactly what you have done. I gave you the rope and you made the noose and hung yourself from a tree. The best part is that you have no idea. You think your riding the high life.

Like I said, I regret to inform you that you are in fact not.

You started off on the wrong foot. Right off the bat you threw your best friend under the bus to me. You put him down, stepped on him, shoved his face on the mud and kept on getting it. Shame on you. I overlooked this momentarily until I had the chance to really talk to him. I adore him and you should never be an ass to him again. Consider that your warning for the future.

Then, without your knowing, I caught you in a whole slew of lies. First, you lied about your best friend even being with you on vacation. Mistake. You shouldn’t lie about petty shit. Second, you lied about that one weekend I was away. You said you were drinking beers with a friend. Which was true, but it was only half of the truth. May I remind you that only telling half of the truth is the same as lying. You should know that dear. You were in fact throwing a few back, but what you neglected to inform me of was that it wasn’t at a bar. It was at your ex girlfriend’s house. Now see this would not normally be an issue but when you are attempting to gain someone’s trust you never lead this on an unsound trail. Furthermore, your ex is a psychotic nut and you dog her been her back. Faking it to her face is just rude, inconsiderate, and unfair to all parties involved.

After these two lies where uncovered, I tuned into you. See the first two lies didn’t hurt me, far from it actually, but you did piss me off. You were taking advantage of a perfectly nice woman, as far as you knew.

The thing is that I’m only a perfectly nice girl on the surface. Underneath and when provoked, which you did, I am a bitch. See you were playing games with me, which I knew all along. I decided to play along because I didn’t realize the depth of these games. But what you failed to realized is that you ever play me and you never ever play games with me. I will win and you will end up equalling chew up gum on the bottom of my shoe in my book.

So I set back and like your game run its course. I knew it would only be a matter of time before you lied again. It only took about 3 weeks. You told a half truth again. You said you promised to come see me over a weekend. I let you believe that I was excited for the adventure, but in reality I knew you were bullshitting straight to my face. Takes one to know one hun. The weekend came and went. I let it pass calmly.

A few days after the weekend you messaged me. Ah, yes. The famous I’m going to make promises I won’t keep, not show or communicate anything for the period of time that I was suppose to be present, and then talk to you after the fact with light heartedness, I miss yous, and other meaningful bullshit to rope me in again. Bravo. Such a well thought out original plan. I really applaud you for your efforts in diversification. You make a grand appeal.

Either way, I played along. And as I predicted you made a faulty miss step. You made mention of the fact that you went to Bruce’s graduation party. Oh dear. See that was my key. It told me that you were in my area over the weekend and that you didn’t make the each effort to come see me because you were playing me. Shame on you again.

So here is what is going to happen. I’m going to turn on my heel and walk away but before I do I must make a few things clear. One, if you ever throw our mutual friends, especially LNAYX, under the bus again, I will publically humiliate you. Two, if you ever fuck with Peace again without her wanting you to, her problems with you will become my problems and I do not respond well to cheaters. Three, if you attempt to make advances toward me in the future I’m going to lead you on repeatedly and frustrate the fuck out of you. Four, I feel it would be hypocritical of me not to inform you of my intended use of you in the first place. I only entertained the idea of you as a summer fling. If you don’t believe me, ask Sunshine. I made the summer fling announcement in her kitchen. But I digress. See my sex friend at the time was MIA and I needed some loving. Your dick and meaningless sex with you suited my needs. Don’t be a pussy and cry about it.  Five, you need to get the fuck out of the game. Your skills are shitty as hell and I can’t believe you even thought you could play your games reasonably well enough to not get caught. You’re truly a dumbass if you still believe that. Finally, remember you can’t play a player bitch. 

Fuck off with peace and love,


P.S. I think The Band Perry says it best:
“Because you lie like a priceless Persian rug on a rich man’s floor and you lie like a coon dog basking in the sunshine on my porch. Well you lie like a penny in a parking lot at the grocery store. It just comes way too natural to you. The way you lie.”

Sunshine Is Beyond Random


Today was a highly adventurous day for Sunshine and I. We started off the day late but made our way to the beach which ended as quickly as it started. Why you ask? Simple. The wind was blowing at 20 miles per hour across the sand. If you don’t know what that means I’ll break it down for you. You’re standing there enjoy the waves and the breeze. Ah yes. What a nice breeze. Then it starts to sting. Ow. Ow. Owwwww. It get worse. It’s like being sand blasted constantly at different speeds. It fucking hurts!

So we made our way back to the driveway. I washed the truck, got hit on by the man checking the telephone poles. Awkward. Real awkward.

I ran in my Vibrams today. It was nice. Going to take a bit to adjust to them, but it felt good.

After this all, sense for Sunshine and I went out the window, completely. We discussed what it would be like to go through life without thumbs. The picture above is how Sunshine would drink water. (Blonde moment clearly.)

But in keeping with Sunshine’s randomness, this scene occurred.  We were watching a show about this man was having reconstructive surgery on his face and she looks at me, dead pan face, and goes “google pregnant midgets”. No lie.

But that was after I said this to her: “Damn I need to keep you around more often. You made my bed, you fixed my food, you washed my clothes and folded them, you washed the dishes, and you just spoon fed me. Why don’t you have a boyfriend again?” I’m such as ass. Ha. Our friend told me he’d punch me.

Finally, we topped off the night with with this quote “We are grown ass women trying to make fart noises with our armpits.”

(We failed by the way.)

Another rare thing about today is that I have literally talked to everyone today. Clapper with his random comments about the place that I’m staying. Mr. Soup and his serious comment about being serious and territorial. My friend from Cali. Mr. Delicious and well us just being normal friends. Mr. Breadstick and our general conversations. Ma. Peace and Gaga. Romeo and Juliet. Ms. EatsPlentyOfCheeseburgers and our crazy in tune thoughts. And finally iamsohip and James Taylor, among other things.

What a day. Time for late night sexting. Hot damnnn.


I have finally decided, after much discussion with Peace, that I am going to go on a date with Clapper. Like a legit date where you dress up and act all perfect…only I don’t really care to fake it unless it’s necessary.

Anyways, Clapper owes me an Applebee’s 2 for 20 and I am going to collect. Personally going to dinner as a date is just not my thing. Its awkward and it never fails that someone asks you a question while you have your mouth full. I would much rather go to the drive in movie, go to a ball game, go hiking, etc. Anything but go to dinner.

But I digress. What started this change of heart with Clapper is really quiet simple. For those of you who don’t know this, I rarely dream, and by rarely I mean like once every 5 to 10 years. I hate to dream. However, the other night I in fact dreamt about Clapper.

It was a simple dream. We were in bed. I was laying on my back and he was as well. His arm was under my head and we were just sleeping. That’s it. Just sleeping. But the feeling that I got was nothing but pure comfort and relaxation. It was odd and scared the shit out of me. As I said I don’t like to dream. I have my reasons.

Nevertheless after much pondering I made a decision that it was a sign and I need to stop blowing Clapper off. I need to grow a pair and stop pussy footing around. He is a good guy with a lot going for him and I should give him the respect that he deserves.

But with that said Sunshine as given me a list of things that I am not allowed to talk about on the first date, or for a while really.
1. Do not talk about the dead cat and hamsters on the bookshelf.
2. Do not tell him that you listen to Marylin Manson.
3. Do not tell him that when you were a kid you wanted to be a mortican.
4. Do not tell him you have 3 cats.
5. Do not mention that you are highly intrigued by Charles Manson.
6. Do not say a word about your undying love for Abe Lincoln.
7. Do not tell him that you don’t shave often in the winter months…bear.
8. Never ever blow your nose. It’s not sexy!