Hot Sexy Chick or Old, Ugly and Fat

19 May

5-19-12

At the library in between dropping off and picking up Sybil.  Is it mean that I call my darling daughter that?  I guess she is a chip off the old block.  Also a Gemini, so we are SUPPOSED to have at least twins inside of us.  I just had a manicure and an extra 10 minute massage.  Absolutely heavenly.  I am adding massages to my list of “what makes me happy”.

So far we have:

– working out

– reading

– listening to music I like either because I know the words and can sing to it, or it has a good beat to work out to, or I just like it

– massages –  a little bit of heaven on earth

– making people smile and laugh

I’m sure there’s more,  but……..not what I want to talk about. 

I am actually feeling good.   I don’t know if the menopausal hormones have taken a break, but I have felt good for the last two or three days.  I don’t remember feeling this good for a while.  I am enjoying it and trying to remember what it feels like in case the hormones return. 

I am not obsessing about my gym boys.  I like them and we are friends, but I am not thinking that the latest and greatest one is going to save me (FB).  Probably because we had a chat on Thursday, the day after the therapist freed me.  I was telling him about what happened and we got into this long conversation.  I realized that when he is doing his workout he is too focussed to talk.  He is downright curt and doesn’t have the time.  So, I had to wait for him to finish. 

We discussed relationships.  He had had a seven year relationship with a foreign woman that was hard to get out of, but when he finally left, he felt free.  I think he was also doing drugs at the time from what he said.  He is definately a bad boy.  I told him that I didn’t even like Jack anymore and he came up with a financial strategy for leaving.  Sell the house, split the equity, and buy a two bedroom condo where the kids could visit.  Sounded plausible.

Then, however, was when his intentions became clear.  Somehow we talked about having “rocking” sex.  Just for sex sake.  I told him that I learned from the last time that I get emotional afterwards, so just as the guy is kind of finished with me, I get attached.  I can’t wait to see him again and he could care less.  It is not a good feeling.   It’s just what happens.  He said, “well, at least you’re honest.”

So I’m thinking that even though we discussed this great motorcycle trip to California, he obviously has no emotional attachment to me which completely shattered my fantasy of true loves driving out West.  Which, for some reason, did not leave me heartbroken at all.  The fantasy of him helped me get over my last ass hole’s new girlfriend that I have to see him with every day at the gym, and so that was useful.  I don’t know if I would like FB anyway.  He is kind of a dick, if the truth be told.  He definately has a nice butt, though, but where does that REALLY get you?      Probably not a good fit.  Bad boys are fun temporarily.  I will have to think about it. 

Oh, right, I am married.  I always forget.  Well, in name anyway.  We haven’t been getting along and have no physical relationship at all.  So, my fantasies have helped me escape my real life.    Instead of dealing with the lack of money or sex or companionship or hope for the future, I simply obsess about my latest crush.  It works for right now.

Since this is kind of pathetic on some level, I am coming up with a new game plan for a new paradigm of living:   ABUNDANCE, EASE AND JOY.  All I have to do is think about these words, and my body relaxes.   The old paradigm was STRESS, STRUGGLE, and DOOM.  There was no escape and I was often tired and gloomy and my body hurt.  

STEP 1:  I made an appointment with yet another financial planner.  Jack actually likes this one which is a miracle.    Jack was a real ass hole during the meeting – he was saying how I always talk as if we are broke.  NEWS FLASH – WE ARE, DICK WEED.  We have about $6000 worth of bills this month to pay and no moo-lah to pay them with.  Am I just supposed to sit here grinning like an idiot while he goes and spends more money that we don’t have?  Just give me a lebotomy, please, if that’s the case.

I told him the next day that he was a REAL ASS HOLE in the meeting, and he said, “I was?  Gee, I guess I don’t even know I am doing it?  What did I do?”  he asks with this innocent little look.  I felt like smashing his dumb little head.    Does ignorance excuse him from talking about me like I am a crazy, deranged loon?  Shitty behavior is shitty behavior.  That’s one of my lessons from the dearly departed doctor.   I am no longer going to sit there and take it thank you very much.  Powerful Priscilla (forgot what I called myself) is here to stay.  No messing with me anymore.  I feels a lot better than just sitting there and being victimized!!!!!!

So, last night, I uswed my new improved approach to his assoholicness.  When he said something rude, I gave him the finger.  The next time I said, “speak for yourself, ass hole.”  When I mentioned it later he said he liked that I was sticking up for myself.  Fuck me man.  This therapist really helped me, I guess – before I would just seethe silently and hate him and cry the next day at the gym over my miserable life.  This is a little invigorating.   I am woman hear me ROAR!!!

The only problem was we had a guest over at the time who was kind of caught in the middle of it.  He looked a little uncomfortable.  Oh well, the casualties of war.  I guess I will apologize for making him feel uncomfortable.

But, on the whether to leave the marriage torture question, the feeling of having to leave is gone now that I know that FB was only into casual sex.   I don’t need to hurry up and leave so that he doesn’t find someone else.  I was panicking that he would give up on me.

Well, there’s nothing to give up except a fling, I guess.  No true love there except in my mind. 

As for the casual sex, I don’t really think that it would work for me.  I mean, the beginning is awesome – they are SO nice when they are pursuing you.  The last guy made me feel like I was the sexiest, hottest chick on the planet. 

After being rejected by my husband for so many years, it was a wonderful, intoxicating feeling to have.  I was dumbfounded but thrilled.  Somebody actually lusts for this 52 year old body?  Wowowowowowow!!!!  Who wouldn’t have loved that after being ignored and not touched for so long?  I wasn’t going to do anything, but thought, I may never have sex again for the rest of my life?  How could I let this chance go?  Who else would have the nerve to approach a married woman?  So, the seed was planted so to speak.

The part that wasn’t fun was when all of a sudden the pursuit was gone and I was put on the back burner and practically forgotten about.  What happened?  Got what he wanted, I guess.  This was my one and only excursion, so to speak.  I certainly learned my lesson.  I mean, parts of it were fun.  It was so exhilarating that it was like a drug.  I couldn’t get enough, but it was because I FELT SO GOOD in terms of being desired and wanted. Feeling like a hot sexy chick was awesome.  BUT, in retrospect, I didn’t feel that way all the time.  The anxiety of not knowing when we could get together or whether I would hear from him was not fun at all. 

I would go from feeling like a “hot sexy chick” to “old, fat and ugly” in a matter of minutes or hours.  One text and I was hot and sexy.  No text and Pathetic Patty was going to town telling me how unlovable I am and how I probably blew it and I was no good.  So I vacillated from extreme highs to extreme lows and it wasn’t REALLY a good time overall in retrospect.  At the time, I was living for the texts and stolen moments because they made me feel alive, and I hadn’t felt alive in a long time. 

That’s how the fantasies make me feel as well.  Like I am truly loved and desired.  Since they are only in my mind, I can write them with very happy endings.  When reality enters in though, I get upset.  But, who needs reality when you can write your own fantasies?.  One day I will write it out.  I would probably be embarassing, but who cares?  It’s like a romance novel – no reality need apply itself.

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