Classics in Neuroses.

So, I was driving home last night in my "new" busted Cutlass Cierra (blogging does not make you rich). The thing has pep for a car that is fifteen years old. Before I knew it I was gliding up and down and around the back roads of Geauga County, Ohio and enjoying the fact that the sun sets later and later every day.

(So yeah, I have a nasty habit of joyriding. I'm a huge fan of "Left, Right, Straight." My car is a gas guzzler. I am probably the number one cause of global warming since I like to drive around aimlessly- I did when gas was at $4/gallon too.)

Back to last night. Driving along, listening to local pop radio and then... T.I. comes waltzing into my life again. I don't have a problem with T.I. and I hope he doesn't end up going to jail for the rest of his life on whatever bogus weapons charge they are using to make an example of him. He didn't beat his girlfriend (that we know of) and he didn't shoot anyone (that we know of).

And another backtrack: When T.I. first got big it was with "What You Know" back in 06. I had transferred from Miami of Ohio (aka Lilly White University) and was going to school at Kent State. I had met a boy the previous fall while visiting one of my best friends, it was her brother. It was the biggest thing to have happened to me up to that point. He would become my first love and, for while, the most important person in my life other than family. I'm sure you see where this is going- that boy was the infamous John, of stolen hat fame. T.I. and his string of inescapable hits off of King became the soundtrack to our summer.

Last October, the last time John and I saw each other and the brief 2 hours where we both reconsidered starting up again, it was "Whatever You Like" playing on the Honda stereo as we both looked at each other and wondered where to go next and if it would be together. It sounds really melodramatic and it probably was a scene worthy of the OC, but I will always consider this the turning point between us. Before I got out of the car he hugged me- holding on like he would never see me again. I couldn't understand why.

As you may have guessed, hearing T.I. on the radio is pretty tough for me.

So, there I was in the Cutlass and 96.5 starts up with the opening to "Whatever You Like." And I can't help but go back to that day in the car. "Do you love him?" he asked me (regarding PVille). "I think I could," I said. "Or at least owe it to myself to try." We rode around Mentor and Willoughby and Eastlake, where he's from. Half-joking, I suggested we go to the beach- the scene of one of our first hookups. We started out in that direction before deciding to turn back. It was a literal road that would only lead to more heartbreak. "Do you love her?" I asked about FCOG. He shrugged. It was the calm before the storm, to borrow a cliche.

Of course now, in my rusty Oldsmobile, in March of 09, I am fleeing back to my house. Frantic to get home. Frantic to talk to him. Tears streaming down my face, I run through a stop sign. I just needed to say something- anything- just hear his voice again. I forgot about everything that had happened and all the fights. It's an incessant need- an urge- a craving just to know that I'm still in his universe. A thought in the back of his head. I ran into my house and dug my cell out of my purse.

I looked at the number. (It's his house number.) Took a deep breath. Pressed send. No one was there.

And then, I realized the insanity of what I was doing. Why was I calling him? What good would this bring, if any?  At the best it would be a casual conversation, peppered in small talk.  At the worst- and heartbreakingly so- he would tell me to "Fucking go to Hell." So, of course, I immediately texted my sponsor.

ME: Having a meltdown here... Just called John's house. WTF is wrong with me?

ALANNA (were you expecting someone else?): WHY did you call his house?

ME: Idk. Idk. Idk. (Sorry, but that is my favorite and most used text lingo.)  No one was home. I was driving home and I heard TI. Damn TI. And I started missing him and the next thing I knew I was home and dialing the number for his house...

ALANNA: You need to break your unhealthy relationship habit. C-U-T-O-F-F. CUT OFF. Go ahead and miss him but contacting him will only result in heartache.

ME: I know... I don't know why I did it. It was like an alcoholic not realizing they are actually drinking a beer...

So, yes. I freaked out. And yes, I still think about John. All.the.time. I hope this gives you people out there an insight either to just how messed up I am or to how bad breakups and their resonance really are.  My sister says that I'm still in the "1/3 Zone"- a rule that says you can lament about someone for 1/3 of the time you were with them.  I always thought it was the "1/2 Rule"- guess even that downsized.  So I guess that means I can be like this until next September/October.  I don't want to be like this until October.  I hate going for weeks thinking I'm ok and then, because some T.I. song comes on, I go into withdrawal.

UGGHHHHH.

(Although it's funny I have everybody and their brother suggesting setups for me.  I really just think I need to be alone and get through this without hurting anyone else.)

The musical.

As my coworker Mar would say, I love drama.  So I thought, what would "And I Stole Your Hat, Too" look like as a successful Broadway musical drama?  And the result was a combination of my fascination with musical theater and my pathetically annoying problems:

AND I STOLE YOUR HAT, TOO:

A Childish Musical Drama*

Starring

CJ

as

"Heroine"

John 

as

"Prince Asshat"

FCOG (not an FCOG, but really, FCOG)

as

"Princess Twat"

PVille Guy

as

"Sir Douchebag"

and

Alanna

as

"the Best Friend"

(*Actually, it may be more a long the lines of a Shakespearean Comedy now that I think about it, but funny in the way that "Merchant of Venice" was funny... like kind of not funny but it's considered a comedy because no one actually dies.)

Act I opens with a colorful and happy piece called "Don't Ever Talk to My Boyfriend Again" sung by Princess Twat while she is at a Halloween party.  Followed by a jazzy upbeat dance number with the Heroine singing "Tell Your Fucking Whore of A Girlfriend that She Should Watch Her Baby Instead of Worrying about Me" to Prince Asshat as she secretly steals his hat. (Of course, this will be choreographed by Twila Tharp.  Kicklines and tap dancing and leaping across the stage.  It will be amazing.)  Prince Asshat responds with "Don't Ever Talk to Me Again, You Stupid Bitch." Then Sir Douchebag comes into the picture and sings a song about, oh I don't know, being a complete tool ("The Toolman"). End scene.

Intermission.

Overture.

Act II begins with a song by Prince Asshat singing a lovely ballad called "I Love Her but You Mean So Much To Me Still" but that will turn into "Wait, No, I'm Confused and I Changed My Mind Again" and then a reprise of "Don't Ever Talk to Me Again, You Stupid Bitch."  Followed by the Heroine singing the title song, "And I Stole Your Hat, Too" as she creates a blog.  "I shall post things about you, dear Prince, and your immaturity, and that stupid Princess Twat and her insecurity!"  Followed by a dance number in the middle.  "And you, Sir Douchebag, will get a post too so don't, please don't, threaten to sue!"  But he does.  And there's a big crazy scene where he yells at her (singing "Young, Dumb, And Full of..."-you knew that was coming- and tells her that she's taking advantage of their "friendship" and she cries.  End scene.

Intermission

Overture

Final Act.  Opens with the Best Friend singing a song called "You're An Idiot, We're Going to Boston" to the Heroine and she realizes that all these people are morons.  "You're right! My God, you're right! I don't know how I lost my siiiiiiiight!" the Heroine sings.  As Prince Asshat and Princess Twat come on to the stage she shakes his hand and hugs her and sings "I'm Over It."  "You can have him, you can have him, he's not that great anyway.  He's bad at sex, he's really stupid, and there's never an intelligent thing he'll say."  Sir Douchebag comes in singing the reprise of "Young, Dumb, And Full of..." and she continues to sing "I'm Over It," ending with a big flip of the bird.  And then her and the Best Friend dance off to Boston in "I'm So Glad That You Losers Live in Ohio (See Ya)" with the chorus line.  Fade to black (yeah, I know that's a screenwriter's, not a playwright's, term).

Curtain.

It's lame but I'm tired and loopy and bored.  I know, I'm reaching on this one.  Oh well, you win some, you lose some.

Fun with Google.

So I forgot about something.  Yesterday I was bored and playing with my Sprint Samsung Rant phone that has the slide out keyboard and all-internet access (if you can bear to look at the internet on a tiny little screen).  I've actually been using it to check my email on a regular basis (when I get out of the shower, when I'm brushing my teeth, when I'm sitting in traffic, when I'm pumping gas, when I'm painting my toenails) and I learned that I can use AIM, gChat, Yahoo! IM, and MSNMessenger (or whatever it's called), too!  ANYWAY, I was playing around with mini mobile Google and I put in "PVille guy."

AND, this is the most exciting part of it all, "...And I Stole Your Hat, Too" came up!  It was the first time that this had happened to me in my *blogging* life!  So then I thought, what else can I google and get "AISYH2"?

FCOG:  Immediately I realized that I was not as important as I had originally thought.  FCOG is an acronym for the First Church of God.  Which I will always remember now whenever I use that term.  I don't think they would be too pleased with my version.

WHIRLING DERVISH: This brought up some interesting things.  I always thought "whirling dervish" was a Victorian name for a cyclone, twister, or windstorm.  TURNS OUT, a whirling dervish is a dancing Sufi monk (or what we know as monks in the western world) and the whirling dance is actually considered a way to reach religious ecstasy.  See that? You learn something new everyday!

JOHN'S MOM:  UrbanDictionary.com cites that the phrase "John's Mom" refers to a "a woman infatuated by 'dark meat' " or a variation of "yo mama."  As in "This sucks." "Like John's mom." I would just like to say I'm sorry for that.

CHILDISH BEHAVIOR:  This just found a lot of psychological sites.  And a nice little article about the differences between childish and child-like.  I was too A.D.D. to read it but you can:

http://www.boloji.com/family/00149.htm 

("Why Can't An Adult Be Like A Child?" by Ramendra Kumar. 2000)

BOOTY CALL: (yes, I know that this will be interesting)  Oh, dear Lord!  For Chrissakes! If this isn't a surefire sign of the death of romance and chivalry, I don't know what else is!

 http://www.onlinebootycall.com/

I could keep going with this all day!

You've got mail.

"Its not even like that.. were on the same page all the time.like tonigt allwe didwas han.g out at her house and watch cavs while she squeeze blqck heaqds out of my nose. She takes great care of me and doesn't expect me to be his dad. Although Someone needs to step up and be a positive male role model for him and im willing to do that. What could u think shes using me for? Money? No someone to spend her time with? Yes and possibly share our lives together. I found my perfect match my solemate! Btw im getting half rent and utilities paid too. Beneficial to us both.. U see give and take. {FCOG} is a class act. So what she has a kid shes not the only one! The way I see her take car of him makes me wish she had my son... Shes a once in a lifetime opportunity. And I love her so much its unbeliveable....

-response email from John. (from yesterday, 11/13/08)

I really don't know whether to be grossed out by this or to laugh...

Well, this lasted all of five minutes...

So, despite a proposed moratorium on saying mean things about the FCOG, I just couldn't resist today.  See now a lovely conversation via texts with my ex-best friend (because, really, at this moment I'm just more annoyed than anything else).

ME:  :( hey.  have a good day.

HIM: :) turn that frown upside down girl.

ME: (Forwarded message from PVille Guy).  It's been a rough week.

HIM: Drop this fag and get a new guy.

and here's where it went bad...

HIM: Trust me it's worth the wait ;)

So, I admit I should have probably just smiled and said... "Yeah I know."  But, as we all know, I couldn't let that one go.

ME: So I was the crap you had to go through to find Princess Bitch? Thanks.

HIM: Bye.

HIM: You take everything the wrong way.

ME: Really, how was I suppose to take that?  Sorry, I just don't feel like feeling bad about myself today.

HIM: Just be happy, it's so much better when your happy.  I'm moving in with her at the beginning of the year.

ME:  Well, that's the end of us then.  We can't be friends.  She won't let that happen.  So here are my parting words: U r ruining ur life.

HIM: Get over urself.  U ruin ur life by not being happy.

ME:  Don't call me when the shine gets dull and the tarnish shows and u  hate the position u r in.

HIM: I love the position I'm in.

HIM: I don't have to fight to get along with this girl.

ME: Get over URSELF.  U think ur so high and mighty because u have a charity case gf.  Ur pretending to be Prince Charming and its gonna get old.  And u know it.

ME: And PS, we wouldnt have fought so much if u had been a decent human being to me when we dated.

HIM: Ur just jealous that ur alone and i found a keeper.

ME: Ok bye.

ME: And PS, you didn't find a keeper- you found a clinger.  have fun w all that.

I'm SOOOOOO OVER THIS!!!!!* I want to through this nice computer out the window into oncoming traffic on Chagrin Road, go mow down some pedestrians in the Falls, and burn every picture I have of us.  This is like a tumor that has grown teeth and will not go away no matter how much I will it to.  It's a monster tumor.  Named John-COG.  

*I apologize for the gratuitous use of punctuation usually reserved for the diaries of 14 year old girls (aka "Twilight"s core audience).

A late night appeal.

"Hey."

It was the first word he had spoken to me in a week that wasn't in anger.  Last night at 11:00 my phone rang.  John's name was on the caller ID.  I debated about picking it up.  

"Hi."

For a moment, we said nothing.  I was afraid to talk, afraid he was about to start yelling at me again for God knows what this time.  

"How are you?"

So I told him about Laser Tag and Whirly Ball and Asshole and Cheney and how I really liked the people I went out with yesterday and how I drank maybe a little too much.  There was another pause.

"I'm scared."

And because I'm a good friend, I knew I had to listen.  So I let him talk about how nervous he was that things were going so fast and how, since October 15, he'd manage to see this girl every single day except for two.  How he loved her already.  How he thought she was the one.  

And because I'm a good friend, I told him to be happy.  I told him to go into it with his whole heart and be a good man.  That's really all I ever wanted for him anyway.  I told him that things are good now, but they won't always be.  And when they aren't, it will suck and it will hurt but that he will get over it.  If she's this important, he'll find away to make it work.

Then he said something that I never thought he would say.  "I want to move in with her."

Now, I don't have to know this girl to know this is a bad idea.  Anyone reading this can see this is not a good idea.  But he's a fool in love and he's my friend.  So I politely expressed my opinion (all the while wanting to scream "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?!") and explained delicately that babies are fun when you can put them down and go home and that living with someone is not the same as just staying at their house every night.  It's a lot of pressure.  "Are you ready to be a father?"  He didn't say anything.

So we changed the topic of conversation and moved on to lighter things.  Like Christmas presents and other things to that nature...  and it was just nice to know that he still thought my opinion mattered.

Eventually, we were too tired to talk.  We said our goodbyes and for the first time, I was ok with that.  If that was the last conversation we ever have, I would be ok.  John and I were never "the one" for each other.  I always knew that.  It doesn't mean that I would ever stop caring about him, or he for me.  I realized that whatever end-game I had in this whole situation was never going to end up with us going back to the way things were.  I had to accept that.  We were lucky to be close as long as we were.  Exs rarely stay friends, it's just a part of life.

"So, I wish you the best in your life.  You need to do everything possible to make this work with her, you deserve it.  And I deserve to give every chance and my whole heart to someone else.  I need to figure out my life without you in it," was really the only thing left to say.  And I said it.  

It's scary and it's a new beginning at the same time.  I'm kind of excited.

Hurt.

im truly sorry I have been mean to u. but I don't know any other way to get u to let me be. I realy don't want to mess up what I have going with sarah, and I truly don't know how u are with me being happy with another woman??? only u have the answer for that. ithink she feels a little threaten by u, since we have such a long history together. for almost 3 years. and it didn't help when u said what u said; remember she doesn't know u how I do.she just thinks ur a exgf that still wants me. I don't want to loose u as a friend, but at the same time I don't want to loose my girl. im stuck in a catch 22. I hope u can understand where im standing. its a very tough situation for me to be in. if u want to be friends with mary then u can't talk to her bout me. it realy makkes her not like u when u do that. yes I am in love with "the baby momma" as u tell to mary. and im not trying to be anything im not. being with her has made me relize the ammount of responsibility I have been lacking. yes her having a baby isn't the perfect situation but seeing how happy he makes her. that makes me happy. so it most deff worth it to me. I hope all is well with u and realy wish u nothing but the best for ur life,

love alwaysse, john

(MySpace message entitled "Time Will Heal All Wounds")

"Face it, you predicate everything on John.  You will never b w ne one except for him." PVille guy expressing his "frustrations" right before saying that he needs "space"

So some days are better then others... some are worse.  I threw up because my gut just can't take any of this.  I've changed my number, blocked my MySpace.  I'm just done.  I don't know how many times I can say it, either.  Sorry, this isn't very funny today.  I'll try and do something ridiculous later to offset it.  

Babymamadrama.

So I maybe forgot to mention that I talked to John's mom on Saturday.  Well, see it happened in quite a sane way so don't go thinking that I called her to "tell on him" as he is now convinced.  While on my way to return the phone, I called her to see if she or his brother were going to be home.  She didn't call back before I got there.  You know this part of the story.  

On my way home, she called me back and talked to me.  About work.  About Photoshop (she is a graphic designer and I am learning how to use it for work).  About Pville Guy.  I love John's mom.  She is a great lady, devout and strong in her convictions and faith.  I've also known her longer than I've known John (through his sister).  She asked why John was so upset and grumpy lately.  I said I didn't know.  She asked about the FCOG.  This woman wants to know about the girl his son is dating.  I didn't want to answer, but she asked if she was nice.

Hmmm... so what do I say?  A better person would have said, "She's a great girl."

But seeing that this whole blog was created with the idea that I'm certainly not the better person, I said something that I probably shouldn't have.  "No, she really isn't."  Ok, I was angry.  I had voicemails and texts from this girl telling me to stay away from John.  I didn't really think about it.  I also told her about the voicemail from the night before.  I did not mention the one kicker that would send his Devout Catholic mother over the edge.  She has a baby.  

So you can imagine my surprise today when I received a text accusing me of this from John.

"Stop texting me," I said after denying the claim.  I'm just too tired to fight anymore.

High Road and Booty Call.

"I love that smile, you know I do. I think about it all the time"

*sigh.*

If not for that one comment late night Saturday, this weekend could have been much uglier than it already was. So thank you to Pville Guy for making "booty calls on Saturday night" really just ways to make me feel like the prettiest girl ever. Although, it almost didn't happen that way.

PVILLE GUY: "Hey want to have a quicky?" (10:39 PM Saturday)
ME: " in my pajamas already!"
PVILLE GUY: "Does anyone say pajamas n e more?"
ME: "Really, why do you hate me? Are you going to tell me how to get to your house?"
PVILLE GUY: "You have twenty minutes to get here."
ME: "...and here is?"
PVILLE GUY: "Twenty minutes." (by the way, Painesville is like 45 min from my house)
ME: "That's not fair!"
PVILLE GUY: "Better stop complaining and hurry up."

Well, the complaining went on for at least another twenty minutes and just when I thought I had completely chased away any opportunity of "cuddle-time," he called with directions. Then I realized I don't need directions because my super cool new phone has GPS!

I must admit, pulling up to see a grown man in his boxers and tshirt standing out in the freezing cold for me really made me forget for a few minutes what happened the day before (see below). He made a mock angry face, quickly cracking to a smile. My knees got weak (possibly because I hadn't eaten anything in two days). I threw my arms around him and then he reminded me of something that I had secretly hoped had disappeared somehow. "My son's asleep, so we have to be quiet."

So, after tip-toing around like teenagers past curfew, the night ended up rather well. Of course, we did discuss the fact that perhaps meeting said child would not be really appropriate the next morning (to which I completely agree because (a) i'm not ready for that just yet and (b) especially not while beginning the walk of shame home.

"Don't let this (the situation with John) consume you," he said to me before I got in my car. "Let it go."

So, later that day, I sucked it up and decided to take the high road. After all, I had someone to care about that cares about me. I had to do what I was afraid of the most and that was say goodbye to John.

"You can be mad all you want. I will care about you forever and will be here for you if you ever need me." TEXT TO JOHN

Yet somehow this led to more arguing. So then finally, we decided that we will not speak to each other, at least for right now. So I knew what I had to do next.

"I'm sorry for what I said about you without getting to know you. I'm sure you are a good person/mother because John is crazy about you. I wish you both the best. He asked advice about u. I told him to be honest and he will. I told him to listen to u and he will. Don't rush him into saying I love you, he'll do that on his own terms. His mom is scary but she is good people. He is very faithful. Treat him well or we will have problems. u win." TEXT FROM ME TO FCOG

"It's not a game. U win means nothing. Please don't text me ne more." TEXT FROM FCOG proving she is an FCOG.

So, taking the high road sucks so far. I am swallowing my pride and doing what I should have done all along. Let him figure out that this is a big mistake (because it is, my intuition is never wrong).

Until next time, hoping I get my appetite back.

Yes. It's Gone.

My story begins three years ago, but really, there is a prologue.  There was a guy I knew sophomore year.  He was your typical Miami U of Ohio a-hole (and I say this not only because I hooked up with him, but because he just was).  One day, he met a girl that he really liked.  He fell hard and fast for this girl, which was funny because I really didn't think he was capable of any emotion outside of himself.  Well, the girl- cute and nice as she was- decided to mess around with her ex-boyfriend.  Things happened, stuff transpired... and the result was a marvelous little website with her picture and the guy's voice repeating "You are a slut... slut... slut" along with, I believe, recorded voicemails from the girl (who was understandably angry).  I mention this because, as funny as it was, the whole thing was a pretty petty act of a-holeness at its best.  I could never see my self stooping so low.  Cut to yesterday afternoon around 1:30 and me literally stealing my ex-boyfriend's hat off of his dining room table.  Pretty low and desperate, yes?  So here's my story:

John and I met through his sister.  I had left Miami U and while I was on break from Kent State, I didn't really have many friends, let alone a serious love interest. He didn't say a lot and that made me crazy about him.  One night, we discussed my plans to move to Texas (which never happened).  He was sweet, endearing, and clueless.  It wasn't long before we couldn't get enough of each other and I spent my summer days by his side.  Helping him when he didn't have a car, taking him out when he didn't have money. We went through it all together, side by side.  We were on again and off again.  We had tremendous fights and crazy make-up sex afterwards.  After three years, we knew our hearts just couldn't take it and, after one more failed attempt, swore we would be best friends.

There were flings with others for me and I told him I wouldn't care if he met someone special, just as long as I was in his life still.  Enter the Bitch.  Or, and I don't use this term lightly, the Fucking Cunt Of a Girlfriend (or, FCOG), seen here in an artist's rendering.  At first, she seemed sweet and he seemed to really like her.  I won't get into details about her (because children are involved) but let's just say that she had some responsibilities that required being close to a small version of a person a lot.  I pointed this out to him and warned him that she will always have this responsibility and he will have to man up or get out.  "Don't lead on a single mother," I told him.  And then came the phone call.

"I would appreciate you not hanging out with my boyfriend anymore because he isn't yours and I don't know what you are fucking saying to him, but get over it.  Have fun!"- voicemail.

It might have been her voice, all slurred and irresponsible-drunk-motherish, it may have been the fact that she was TELLING me what to do, not asking.  It also may have been the fact that she was CALLING ME.  MY PHONE.  

To say I snapped would be nice.  I won't go into the gorey details, but I think it involved screaming, throwing my phone, my sister going off on John, and a whole lot of other stuff I'm not proud of.

Well,  cut to the next day.  I had to get a new phone because 1. this bitch was not going to call me again and 2. I didn't want to be on John's plan anymore.  Which meant that I had to return my old phone to him.  Of course between calmly purchasing a new one at Sprint and driving to his house to drop it off, I received a barrage of texts and insulting voicemails once again directed at me.  Ooookay?  Not from him either.  From the FCOG.  

I couldn't believe it, my best friend in the whole world had decided to throw everything out that we had for this.  

"You're acting really childish." text from FCOG

I think that was my tipping point.  And then, without thinking, I took it.  The door was open, it was right there.  

Do I condone stealing? NO.  Would I suggest that anyone do that? HELL NO.  I think it was a mistake and a crazy decision on my part but, you know what? I don't care.  When he wants to be a man and not a pussy-whipped version of his former self, he knows the number.

Until then, I will be maintaining this blog as a record of the events to come.  They are for entertainment value, but also I hope to teach other crazy girls like me a lesson.  Do as I say, not as I do.  Trust me, this whole thing should come with a disclaimer.

Until next time, mis amigas locas, see ya.