Chris?


Well, I could have seen that coming. I know Chris seemed sweet and probably is a good man, but under that kind of pressure, I think it got to him. Accusing sweet Doug of antagonizing him? It didn’t even happen. Chris seemed way too sensitive about everything, which to mean screams immaturity. He’ll grow out of it and be an amazing catch, but isn’t quite there yet. I saw someone who maybe wouldn’t be able to handle much chaos, and with kids comes that, even if it’s the good kind. And yes, there is a good kind of chaos. Where all four kids are singing a different song at once, or playing sock wars with bundled socks flying everywhere, or laughing over a Chris Farley scene…we miss you, Chris.

I digress.

What I saw Β in The Bachelorette Chris is that he kept saying he was the best man for Emily in that group. Anyone who says they are the best is only trying to convince themselves. It’s like playing Facebook’s game, Farkle, with a guy from Aussie who’s married, who says he has a great relationship with his wife, who flirts incessantly with me no matter how many times I tell him to stop, who doesn’t tell his wife he’s talking to more than one woman online…and he says he’s a “nice guy.” I put up with him for a few weeks, then cut off communication. He’s not a nice guy, and what I told him is his wife and I both deserve better.

Who do I predict Emily will end up with? Sean. He’s not my first choice, though. He might be a great guy but I haven’t once seen him act like a kid, really let himself go. He seems like he’d be very controlling, but I’m sure loving, and a great provider and protector. And Jef is a great guy, but does she not see that he’s probably Morman, and that’s not a bad thing, but definitely something she needs to know if she’s not Mormon? And yes, he’s so fun to be with, he’s so expressive and honest, you can’t help but love the guy. But Arie, he’s the guy for her. In that race car suit? Wow! Come on! And he is silly, goofy, honest, loving. It stinks that I think he’ll be the one rejected in the end.

I guess we’ll see soon enough. I need to get out more. No, I just need to get out, period.

Doug?


I know I’m a bit behind, but Doug? Noooo. He is so sweet. A little slow but man, he must have been hurt by some awful woman. And John, well I guess I could see that one coming. He just held back so much, but as the great Paul Rudd says in Forty Year Old Virgin, “that’s [his] journey.”

And as I warned you, I do have a bit of a meltdown when I talk about the abuse, so that’s why I haven’t been posting much lately. I’ll get back.

Ryan and Travis: Another Bachelorette Commentary


Hands down, Ryan is gorgeous, funny, charming, endearing. On the flip side, what he wants in a woman is much like a robot: not too emotional, logical, servant, etc. Some of the attributes on his list are good of course, like faithful, but as Emily says, there is nothing on his list about love. Kind of sad. And when he leaves her after not getting the rose, the one thing he really focuses on is how he looks, how his personality is portrayed, on camera. Not one tear. Because he knows getting women is not difficult for him. And I think he assumes that he will be the next Bachelor.

As for Travis, your heart just breaks. Look at the difference between Travis leaving, Alejandro leaving, and Ryan. Profound difference. And I just wanted to yell at my television, “Yes Travis, you will find someone!” But of course that would have been pathetic, so I didn’t yell it. I just thought it. It’s a toss up for me between Alejandro and Travis for the new Bachelor. Or that sweet man, sorry I can’t remember his name, with the disability. As I said before, this group of guys, especially the ones left now, have huge hearts, and real emotion, like Doug did on Monday. It made my heart hurt. They all deserve someone amazing, and what they don’t know is that they will probably get more offers of love than they can handle. I just hope they find someone perfect for each of them.

Anyway, just my thoughts, and I already know I am too committed to watching other people fall in love instead of finding my own. I just don’t know what that feels like, so I stay away from it rather than walking toward it. I didn’t know that PTSD was why I never could connect to anyone. Why I couldn’t stay. Or love very deeply. So I live vicariously through all the romance movies and novels and reality shows, and that’s how I feel anything at all.

The Real Story: Dreams & Actors


All the dreams in Anna Blair’s Visitors are real. I just had another one last night where Gerard Butler and I were together, and I got upset with something he did or said, so he went somewhere and came back, telling me we were going to Scotland on November 1st. Then he kissed my hand, and I knew he loved me and I loved him. It was amazing.

And I wonder why do I have dreams about actors? Is it because the statutory rape when I was sixteen had a lifelong effect on me?

The actor was 31, I was 16. He had recently been on a television series so he was very well known back then. My mother and sister did drop me off. I’m sure my mother never imagined what would transpire.

The actor took me to his bank, and a health food store where his photo was up on the wall among others, like Paul Newman and Al Pacino. We went back to his place. I sat in the living room on the couch. He went in the bedroom. When I looked up he was in a towel and was waving me into the room. I was more than naive, more than a virgin. My parents had never taught me anything about sex. Because even back then I had PTSD, I moved in a fog. Everything seemed numb. It blocked my ability to discern what boundaries were, what I didn’t have to allow.

I went in his bedroom and we lay down on his bed. He told me to touch his chest and then made a comment that I was like a robot. He moved on top of me and I said “no.” He lay back down, said “so near, yet so far away.” Then I felt bad and said “okay.”

After that incident, I was never the same. I had plastic surgery to be prettier. I only went after extremely good looking guys. I went for virgins. I thought, if I could get that guy, I could get anybody.

The actor took away my innocence, the rest of my growing up years, he took away reality. I was already messed up since kindergarten, so this just exacerbated my illness.

I thought for a long time how cool it was that this had happened. I certainly didn’t see it as a rape. Not until a counselor just a little over a year ago told me I had been. It was a shock to me. To see how delayed everything is in my life. Years after the event, I finally realize what had happened.

I even went to see him two or three more times before I was 23. We had sex, but it was meaningless. Then he told me he was married and his wife knew who I was so if I called, she’d know me. WTF?

After the first time, he did a photo shoot in a nudie magazine with some young beautiful model. I was jealous and hurt. And he was quoted as saying he never met a virgin he didn’t like. How cold, and cruel is that?

So the only thing I can figure is that I have dreams about actors because I had one once. It somehow makes it possible with others. And because I’ve lived on those movies, those romantic ones where everyone else seems to experience love but me. Of course I know there are others who can’t seem to connect with someone, but for me, the only way I can feel that love, that closeness, is by watching a romantic movie. And it makes my heart ache with loneliness.

I forgot something…


You remember the guy I wrote about from Alaska whose “member” I couldn’t find because he was so huge? What I forgot to tell you is that he had a small head, beady eyes, which just made him look that much more huge, and creepy. And his face got red and his head shook anytime he got mad talking about his job. Also creepy.

Then what really got me mad was when I went up there to visit him and I thought I’d make him a nice dinner. Since he was a cook, I figured he might like that. To my horror, he came to the dinner table without his shirt on, so his boobs were almost hanging in his food, and he didn’t even say thank you. It was like he expected me to cook.

I know what you’re thinking. I was crazy for leaving him. He was the cream of the crop.

After I left him he was driving and hit a moose. He broke his neck or something and had to have vertebrae fused together. So on top of being huge, with a small head, and beady eyes, he now couldn’t move his neck. Talk about creepy. And I do not wish what happened to him on anyone. Just wanted to make that clear.

Oh yeah, one more thing. When I went up there that time to see him, I first walked into his apartment. It seemed nice enough. The whole bottom floor of a house actually. Then he led me to the table near his bed which had on it a contraption for sleep apnea. So on top of him having Diabetes, weight problems, erectile dysfunction, child anime porn, naked girl pictures, and beady eyes, he also slept with that huge thing strapped to his face. His comment when we approached the maniacal mechanism was, “I’ll have to teach you how to clean it.”

Oh boy, really? Can I, huh? Can I?

 

#2 Guys in Portland…no wait, 3


Back to my online dating memories. Which come and go so I gotta write them when they hit or I’ll lose them again this go-around.

First guy. Native American. Long braid. I think “cool.” He had me meet him all the way into downtown Portland. My expense. My trouble. My mistake.

We said hi. We stood in line at a Starbucks. He ordered his coffee, paid for it. Then stood aside. The cashier looked at me.

I glared at my date. “Oh, you want something? Sure go ahead.”

“Tea, please.”

We sat down.

Our discussion: “The Man and how he oppresses the Native American.

I moved around uncomfortably in my seat.

When he took a breath an hour later I said I had to go.

Second guy.

An artist. Long hair. I thought “cool.” We met at a restaurant. He seemed nice.

We sat in a booth at a busy restaurant for 3 hours with only one cup of coffee. During the dinner hour.

He didn’t offer me another cup of coffee or anything else for that matter.

The waitress stomped by every now and then. I felt bad.

He left a $1.00 tip.

Third guy.

Tall, African American, dreadlocks. I thought “cool.” We met at a restaurant but it was closed.

We drove to a park and walked along the water.

Nice, but it would have been nicer to be warm, sitting down, having something to drink.

Or maybe mix it up. Walk a little. Get a drink. Walk some more.

For me it felt like he just didn’t want to treat me nice.

He kissed me goodnight. His clothes smelled like that wet-too-long stench.

Portland left me lonely.

An Online Dating Theory


This epiphany came to me while I was talking to my second oldest daughter a few days ago. She’s joined an online dating site.

She said this one guy keeps viewing her profile, but doesn’t say anything to her.

So I equated it to standing in a crowded room. She is at one end, he at the other.

They keep staring, looking away, staring, looking away. Sizing each other up.

That’s what he’s doing by viewing her profile but not saying anything yet.

Then she said she wrote him and suggested they converse. No response.

Then I equated it to this: He’s one of those guys who just looks, flirts, but has no intention of making his intentions good or even known.

Of course, I could be wrong. He could be really shy…on a dating site? Or maybe he’s thinking on how to respond. Maybe he’s a bad speller

and is so afraid that she’ll grade his paper…er email…or worse, that I will! πŸ™‚ Or maybe, he’s been really busy and only has had time to look at her profile,

and rush out the door to work, school, grocery shopping?

You see, men, women (at least like us), analyze everything to death. So if you look at our profile over and over again, and we actually take the initiative and courage

to write first, have the common courtesy to spare us all these agonizing thoughts by simply responding with “hey, liked your profile. let’s talk”…or “I was looking at your profile

for awhile to decide if we are compatible but I don’t think so, but you seem nice”…anything but nothing would be good! πŸ™‚

***and if anyone needs advice on dating and love, please write. I’ve been known to not only have expert intuition and wisdom in my answers, I’m also a bit of a psychic. I don’t know if one can be a bit of a psychic but it’s better than me claiming I’m a whole one and getting advice wrong. Just covering my butt.