Things have turned ugly...

Sorry for all this personal shit but it's all got me thinking...

The Ex has been sending be a barge of angry emails as of late. I've tried to be calm and speak plainly without getting over emotional. I've tried reasoning and being understanding. I've tried being harsh and blunt. But just like our relationship, I can't help him with anything. He has to make a choice himself.

He's angry because he doesn't think I feel bad enough. (a theme for our arguements, me not feeling the way he thinks I should feel) He's angry because I don't want to talk about our relationship that is so over, over and over again. (which leads him begging for why we broke up and then me telling him again, with tears and yelling. I'm convinced he is continuously trying to get me to 'see the light' and get back together with him.) But I think mostly he's angry because I broke up with him. I just couldn't take it anymore. No matter how I felt, what I did, whatever explanation I gave, it wasn't good enough. I wasn't excited enough, I didn't think about him enough, why didn't I tell him earlier, why was I acting so strange, you never understand how I feel and I always understand how you feel, why can't you be what I need, my actions spoke for me and they say that I don't care enough, why can't you wait for me, you aren't sad enough, you don't share your feelings enough, you shouldn't talk to your friend about our business, I want a girl who is A, B, C, and on and on and on.

The emails go from lashing out for hurting him to him being fine, happy with his new life to him

being sorry he put me through so much, all in a single letter. They are so schizophrenic that I can't make sense of them. He goes from "I don't want to talk to you again" and when I say okay, I won't, he retorts with "Way to fight for us! I must not be worth fighting for!" It's like he speaks another language and in his parallel universe, he makes total sense and I'm the evil ice queen from hell who hates him and doesn't nothing but hurt him.

I should have known. Why are we all such fools in love? And not just cute, silly fools, but dumbass mutherfuckers. I made excuses and held back the truth to protect him when I should have been protecting myself. I should have ended it a thousand times. When he lost his job. When he told me he wouldn't be getting another one unless it was 'up to his standards'. That he never paid a dime in rent. When he would rather play video games than have sex. When he was asking to have more sex after pulling a stunt like that. When he

would start fights, I would apologize, and later think, "Wait, what just happened? I didn't do anything wrong!" Every time I thought, "I should stand up for myself right now" and didn't. That he was jealous and upset that I made more money than him, to that point of overcompensation for his feelings of inferiority. When I would stand up for myself and he would come one even stronger to push me back down. When he delayed the start up of his personal business again and again and again and it never came to be. Every time he made me feel guilty for doing something fun he couldn't do, like go to Paris or the Caribbean. Every time he thought I wasn't 'there' enough for him. Every time he failed to cope with his desperate situation. When he kept certain things secret from me. When he wouldn't tell me what he was doing all day while I was at work. When we would fight, I would apologize and he would still make me pay for it for days. When he lied about looking for a job. Whenever we would argue he would hammer down the same point over and over and over and over until I got so sick of it that I gave in. When he wouldn't let go of things. When he would continuously blame others for the problems in his life. That he thought enough money would solve all his problems. When he refused to move ahead in life. When he blamed me for not being supportive enough during the 'hardest time of his life'. When I was so frustrated with his behavior and he would turn it around and make it as if it were me that was the confused one causing problems in our relationship.

But I knew it was really over when he told me that he knew exactly how I felt about my brother being killed in the car accident. I argued that he would never know; his sister was still alive. He had never been so close to violent death before. He argued that the falling out with his sister was very similar to it and that he has had people he cared about die before. We went back and forth and while he went on about how he knew exactly what it felt like, I knew in my heart that this person was all wrong and disrespectful of me and my feelings, manipulative and that I'm not sure I've ever met anyone so damaged, with so many problems.

It's hard. This is someone I used to care about. But I have to be realistic and take care of myself. No matter what, I know I'm a good person. How I feel and what I think are not wrong or crazy or stupid. I just want to know, why did it take me so long to see it?

And by the way, why now does he decide to fuck with me? Right before my first date back out there this weekend? Someone's timing sucks a lot.

Scared to death

I am a confident, beautiful woman.

I can flirt and talk up a storm and bend a man to my will.

But with everything that has happened, it has rocked my confidence ever so slightly. Dealing with the breakup, my grandfather getting remarried and my existential love crisis has messed with my head. Now, almost 3 months since the end of my last relationship I have been asked out on a date.

I'm trying to keep my cool...A date?! Oh lord, what do I do?! Do I even want to start dating anyone again? Am I ready? What if I'm not ready and I go out with this guy and he's great? What then? What if he's another freak I have to shake off? What if we get married and have babies with oddly shaped heads???

No! I'm not going to flip out. He seems like a very nice man. I'm just going to go out with him, keep my eyes peeled for any signs of neurosis or mental illness and have a lovely time. And I might pat him down to check for weapons. And do a background check. And bring my own weapon.

Dating is hard.

*facial twitch*

I'm going to hell...

I think it was Mel Brooks who said "When a man dies, it's not funny. When a man dies by falling down a manhole, that's hilarious."

Death is part of life and sometimes, you just have to laugh.

So for your pleasure and to secure my place in hell, I give you...

Extracts from the 'guest book' at Queen Elizabeth's (the Queen Mum) funeral

"Whichever way you look at it, it just is not as exciting as Diana".
G.Williams, West Midlands.

"No matter how she felt, no matter the situation, she always wore a smile.
Just like a retard"
G. Hollins, East Sussex.

"It is such a loss, God has shit on our heads".
K. O'Neil, Inverness.

"Her death should act as a warning to others who think it is cool to experiment with drugs".
E. Franks, Cheshire.

"How refreshing to be able to mourn the death of a member of the Royal family without being accused of being homosexual".
J. Fletcher, High Wycombe.

And my personal favorite!
"She was a trooper and she never gave up. I remember one time she was visiting a school and I asked her if she would like to make a visit to the cloakroom before she left. 'No' she replied, 'I didn't give in to the Nazis and I won't give in to the bladder'.
That's how she was, a fighter, who refused to be beaten by anything.
She pissed herself later though,it was sickening".
B. Forrester, North Yorkshire.

Those Brits are just funny.
RIP Elizabeth. You were a tough old bird and you always had fabulous hats. Bravo!

The quotes were taken directly from www.findadeath.com. Not for the faint of heart at some times but always interesting and I just love Scott Michaels. Keep up the good work love!

I believe.

I believe.

I believe in the seemingly impossible. The things that go unseen. The things people might point and laugh at me for, which they have. I believe.

I'm sure there will be many more little blogs about this topic. I'm in love with the strange things in life. But with Halloween long gone and people focus shifting back to less spooky things, I tend to stay in that creepy frame of mind.

I have been fascinated by ghosts since I heard my first ghost story. Things under sheets fly

through the air, shouting "BOO!" and making you jump. As I grew older I read more and more on the subject. There were less 'sheet' ghosts, more apparitions, orbs, spirits walking/floating, talking or turning on lights. Like a thin sheet between worlds, some might glimpse something that shouldn't be there.

There are orbs, spirits, apparitions, EVPs, spiritcoms, "ghostcams"or EVP TVs, mist, plasma or

just a feeling. Some can be easily faked, others not so much. America began it's interest in the other side in the late 1900's, when it was seen by most more of a hobby, less of "communing with the devil". A few hundred years earlier, if you were caught having a seance or even speaking with a spiritualist that would be enough for a hanging. Heck, Mary Todd Lincoln was a huge fan of spitualism and would often spend her money on psychics and hold seances trying to contact her dead loved ones. (She buried her mother when she was seven years old, three of her four children, as well as her husband before she finally passed in 1880.)

We have all felt it. You walk into a space and you get a feeling. You can't prove a feeling but you

know you are feeling something not normal. People walk into places like Auschwitz, the Tower of London or maybe just normal building. I know touring a house my parents were going to buy I got an uneasy, sad feeling for seemingly no reason. On another tour, accompanied by a friend of the family (she called herself "sensitive to certain things"), she stopped on a spot near the office and stated that something wasn't right. Someone had tried to kill herself here. She said we needed to smuge (use sage to cleanse) the house before purchasing it. Good thing we listened. Our first week in the house, our contractor came in to replace the carpet with wood floor. When pulling up the carpet near the office, he called us up to look at the very large, dark stain on the base boards, under the carpet.

There are so many ghost stories out there, none of which can be proven. One after another of the security guards at Alcatraz claim to hear or see things; men screaming out or cell doors closing. Twenty eight men died on the rock, either from suicide (5), murder(8) or natural causes(15).

In 1995, Paul McCarney claimed that while recording with the other two remaining Beatles he felt the presences of John Lennon in the studio.

President Teddy Roosivelt said that he would often see Lincoln in different rooms of the White house.

Vincent Price was flying home in 1958 when he glanced up to look out the window. There he saw, lit up on a cloud like the batman signal, "Tyrone Power is dead". His plane landed and he recieved the news that his friend was indeed dead from a heart attack during a swashbuckling sword fight scene at 44 years old. (Strangly enough, Power held his father Tyrone Power Sr, while he lay dying of, what else, a heart attack when he was 17 years old.)

And then there was June of 2007. My brother had been gone for about two months. I was back at work and having a really bad day. I couldn't stop crying and looking at his pictures and writing him letters. I was a mess. The phone began to ring. I was going to let someone else get it but after the third ring I realized that everyone I worked for was a lazy douchenozzle and picked it up myself. The line was dead. I was about to hang up when I heard something on the other end. It was music. It played the whole song, a song about taking it slow, one day at a time and how everything was going to be okay. Then it hung up. And that was it. Just a little reminder. I know it was him.

I know there is something out there. I don't know what exactly; I don't pretend to know the inner workings of our universe. But I do know there is something out there. I believe.

But mostly, I believe because I must. People die. People I love. People I felt had more to do, who left too soon. People that had no justice or peace. This is why I must believe there is more after we leave. Laugh and call me weak minded. I don't mind. I believe.


Check out these links for me info
http://www.alcatrazhistory.com
http://www.yourghoststories.com
http://www.findadeath.com


I respect you may believe differently. I'm hurting no one with my beliefs so if you're angry or want to argue, write someone else. This is something that cannot be changed in me so please don't try. And you should probably go read a different blog. Love and peace to you my friend.

Asking the universe

Dear Universe,

I'm not ready yet but I wanted to just put it out there. I wanted to let you know the kind of man I want/need when the time comes and I'm ready to start dating again.

Physically
Remarkable eyes
Medium to full lips
Nice skin
Nice arms
Slightly above average to excellent muscle tone (no gut please)
Takes care of his physical being(exercises and no drugs!)
Generally "handsome"

Personality
Funny (this is a big one)
Treats me as if I hung the moon
Kind
Finds joy in the little things
Independent
Fully capable
Non-aggressive/non-violent
Non-narcissistic
Social, with good manners
Confident but not cocky or 'charming'

Mentally
Stable
Healthy sexual ideals and practices
Healthy relationships with his family and friends
Generally positive outlook on life
Excellent coping skills
Decisive
No addicts please

Everything else
Financially smart and stable
Makes more $ than me
Appreciates and loves his family
His parents are still married and happy
Clean criminal record
Has a car that runs, in good shape
College degree BA or higher
Has a career, not just a job
Singe, never married, no kids
Someone who is 'complete' without me
No military
Has his own place, ie not living in with his parents
Oh, and if he could not be allergic to cats, that would be great.

I know it's a tall order but I'm worth it.
Thanks so much and I really appreciate you and all you do.

Pixie

PS-Good job on last evening's sunset. It was awesome.