Sorry Ann, I need to get my shit together.

Bruce’s eventual response to my text suggesting he stay overnight to avoid having to drive back and forth tonight:

Ann

I don’t know how to say this … so I’m just gonna say it 

I can’t see anyone right now 

I’m too stressed 

I need to get my life together before I add people to it.

I am depressed … anxious… don’t feel like being around anyone right now. 

Sorry Ann

I need to get my shit together

Sigh. Continue reading

Bruce needs to get his shit together.

I’ve been home from my trip for almost three weeks. In that time, I’ve seen Bruce for a grand total of one hour, on a day I rearranged my schedule to work from home in the morning so he could stop by my place between job sites. It wasn’t quality time; he’d eaten something that didn’t agree with him so was sick to his stomach. We had sex which lasted eight minutes.

That’s it.

One hour in three weeks. A grand total of three in-person meetings in the two months since I met him. One after-work drink, one dinner, and a morning quickie.  Continue reading

The time I created serious drama with Bruce.

Previous post.

My heart sank. OH FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK I thought. I texted back immediately “Oh shit. I’m so sorry.”

I was standing in my bathroom and steadied myself on my doorway as tears welled up. It’s over, I thought. I fucked up, doesn’t matter if it was an honest mistake. He’s going to think I’m crazy and now I’ve caused drama.

I took some deep breaths.

He replied: “No, my bad, don’t know phone numbers…”

“I was really worried about you.”

“Thanks for the concern, talk soon.” Continue reading

Some rules are made to be broken.

It started with a simple status update on FetLife, a site I haven’t been active on in eighteen months. I’d gone to reply to a message from a photographer who wanted to do a photo shoot with me and noticed I still referenced Tony in my profile.

I must have shown up on search results because within 24 hours I received several messages from men. One stood out:

“Loved your profile, I like women who enjoy being shared, double penetration, gangbangs. I don’t post much on my profile, I am somewhat old fashioned in this regard, I like approaching someone I consider interesting. Continue reading

A death in the friend family.

He was a friend, admirer, and protector. Never a lover. He was like the older brother I never had. 

A decade-plus older with way more work experience, he was one of the first colleagues to help me understand how good of a leader I actually am. He was crusty and opinionated but looked up to me. As an independent contractor he could work with anyone, and he chose to work for me. I was humbled by his praise.

I was blessed by his presence in my life.

During one of the projects we worked together on he took a pastry course. We all looked forward to Wednesday mornings when the treats would arrive. Never fully satisfied with his work, he rebuffed our compliments, said through stuffed mouths. He always showed up on time to my parties. He was single the whole time I knew him and at first I assumed he was gay. Turned out after his last long-term relationship he’d tired of trying, and spent his time doting on his nieces and nephews. But he always had relationship advice for me.

He was the one who called me the day after my party, where HWSNBN lost his shit, to make sure I was okay. He made me promise to end it and offered to do anything I needed to keep me safe.

At my party, HWSNBN had told him to “fuck off” after he made a nice comment about my legs. Blind with jealousy, HWSNBN couldn’t see the friendship and teasing behind the comment. And his anger at my friend helped cement his demise. No asshole was going to come between me and the people I choose to surround myself with.

The last time I saw him he sat in one of my comfy chairs, joked about my cast, then quietly disclosed his recent absence from my life was due to depression, not a physical illness as I’d feared. He was starting to realize it was okay to share, but knew his pride and stubborn nature got in the way. 

We promised to see each other soon.

That was February. 

And now I mourn the loss. His death was sudden and unexpected, and a reminder to try to live every day as if it was not only my last day, but my friends and family’s as well.

A stress release double header: My summer sausages.

8am

I still don’t have hot water. I’ve showered at the gym multiple times and it’s getting tired. At least its just me in the house this week. I’m frustrated with the whole water heater situation but I can’t imagine a more boring post than the ins and outs of gas line sizes and mold and faulty installations.

I haven’t seen Lewis since the day we failed to have the BBC party. A couple of days ago he asked what I was doing tonight, and we made plans to meet.

I have a girlfriend visiting for drinks and food while the next (and hopefully final) contractor comes to look at my hot water heater. But since he usually works late, I figured I could see him afterwards.

Yesterday night, in the heart of my phone-throwing-anger with Tony, I got the following text from Lewis: Continue reading

A small-town hookup.

I was away for work for one night. A town I couldn’t get to on a direct flight, so I suffered annoying airport layovers and airplanes so tiny the smallest of carry on bags won’t fit.

Two days of travel for a few hour event; just for me to shake hands and congratulate team members and say thank you. Drink some wine and eat appetizers. I didn’t have Liam and was happy to do it. It’s a seaside town which I love.

I arrived without incident.

As I pulled the rental car into the valet parking for the hotel, I noticed a very cute, very young valet. He came over to retrieve my cars keys, and recited his script of “where are you joining us from today?” Continue reading

driving to my second date, overnight bag in the trunk

Wherein I start to date long distance

If you are new to the story of Ian, please start with this post.

So Ian and I had our amazing first date, and he left in the very early morning. Just before I crashed into bed, I sent him a thank you text: “Ian thank you for an amazing night. Kissing you was admittedly a highlight. Can’t wait until Friday :)”

He quickly responded “You’re awesome. Thanks for an amazing evening. Looking forward to date 3 :)”

The joke of course was our first date was so long, and went past midnight, it was like we’d been on two dates already. It did feel like that a bit. Continue reading

sex and the elderly

I took a shower and went up to Bill | My Grandmother’s sex life

My grandmother tracked everything. Who needs an app to track when you have sex? She certainly didn’t.

Unfortunately, my Grandmother died when I was only 17. She was 77, a few years older than my Mother is today. Complaining of fatigue for months, her family doctor prescribed more and more medication. By the time she was hospitalized, her cancer was inoperable and she had mere months to live.

But this post isn’t about the failure of her doctor or her death; it’s about her sex life. Continue reading

I puked these words all over him

He came over after Liam fell asleep, to exchange presents and sleep over.

He’d asked me that afternoon if I could “dress for him”: my tennis shirt, his favorite bra, a specific shirt.

I was worried his gifts would be all sex related and they weren’t. He’d put thought into what I might like: handcrafted tonic for amazing gin and tonics, gift certificates for a customized sports jersey for my favorite team, a double ended dildo that enters me and allows me to peg him without a harness, thigh high socks for a fantasy look.

The socks were presented first, added to my outfit, and finished off with my high top Converse chucks. He admired the view as I bent over to put them on, grabbing my hips and dry humping me from behind. Continue reading