Blog, Sweet Blog

Posts Tagged ‘romance

Mood: Eff this effing eff eff
Music: Elizabeth Fraser-Moses




Originally written for mah tumblr, apologies for the cross-posting and etc..

This is what my cat’s imaginary next door secret boyfriend looks like, crossed eyes and all.

I’ve lived in the same townhouse since 2001 and have had the same, next door neighbors for most of that time.  Their cat, lets call him Tommy, seems to spend most of his day on my deck or curled up in a ball on my welcome mat.  I don’t really mind.  He seems like a pleasant sort and always moves out of the way when asked.  But the fact that he hangs around so much, makes me want to gossip and tell wild stories about him.  And, like any other mother, I wonder about his intentions, with my cat…my painfully single, sweet, soft-spoken, pure-bread, indoor cat.

It’s the crossed eyes that give me pause.  I know, I know, I should really grow up already and stop giggling whenever he looks up at me, but he’s just so dopey looking! Every time I see him, I hear my ex, imitating his slow, dimwitted drawl.

DURRR, hello Miss Lady.  Is Torrie in there? She’s so pretty! Can I go inside to talk to her?  She’s my friend.  Are you her mommy?

His dopey eyes and that imagined voice make me want to shoo him away.

NO!  Bad cat! Go away!  She doesn’t want to see you.  She’s too good for you!  YOU’LL NEVER BE TOGETHER!!!

Which would be a mean thing to say and kind of sad for Tommy, if I thought he could understand any of it.

Unfortunately, I think Torrie’s into him.  She’s never even been outside and I’m sure he represents the excitement and mystery of an outdoor life she’s never lived.  We’ve all been there, right?  The sexy rebel, the badboy/girl; we want what’s bad for us.

I’ve seen how she looks at him.  I’m worried that she wants to run away and make the slow, goofy looking babies with him (or at least make out a lot), but I can’t let that happen.  She can do better.

Mood: Vegas, baby
Music: Gang of Four-Why Theory?


In the Mouth a Desert


Conduit for Sale!



O hai!

You’ve reached the corporate headquarters of Blog, Sweet Blog Worldwide Consolidated Holdings, Ltd.  Unfortunately, no one is available to take your calls or answer your emails this week.  We’re going to try our hand at love and adventure, Las Vegas style…maybe attend a conference.

People say that Las Vegas is bad for us; he has a kind of major gambling problem and a thing for showgirls and binge drinking.  They say he’s broken and damaged — suicidal even — that he lives on thrills and dollar bills but can only return tarnished fantasies and empty gestures.   You know what they say about stories, though.  The other side is that, every once in a while, he’ll drop his charismatic, panicky, hustling swagger for a certain someone.  At once, he’ll recall his buried innocence and shower her with as much sweetness and warmth as he can remember, until his weakness returns like the dawn’s early hangover.  The fantasy always ends and few decide to the work is worth the reward.

We’ve got all week to find that sweet, young man everybody warned us about and see if we can make it work; we’re not leaving here until we find out…or until our plane leaves.  Either way, we’ll be back next week, increasing shareholder value and creating best-in-class personal blogging content.

Until then, we remain,



The Blog, Sweet Blog staff


Mood: Olympish!
Music: some Winter Olympics sports coverage


my feelings, let me show you them



So…not in a great mood on this, our most made-up of holidays.  I broke up with John for reals last Monday.  I know, shocking, right?  How could such a precarious, ill-fated pairing not last forever?

We were only months into our relationship and we were still some time away from reaching any of the big relationship milestones (exchanging i love you‘s, meeting family members, etc.), but it’s still hard.  I think we always look into the mirror of intro-retrospection after a breakup.  Was it my fault?  What did I do wrong?  Am I unlovable?  In my heart, did I know this is where we’d end? For the record, the answers are: not really, dunno, no, and yes.  I also thought about my previous ex and filtered the horrendous, wrenching end of that relationship through the end of this one…which is soooo fun.

I’m not going to go into the sordid details of the breakup.  I don’t hate John and I’m not about to cast aspersions and sling the mud.  I think our end had more to do with us being at different places in our emotional lives than anything else.  He’s recovering from a five year old divorce and I’m still really new to all of this.

The actual end came shortly after our first serious fight.  It was about something silly and random but that trivial thing was the perfect illustration of everything that was wrong with us.  It all just fell apart from there.  I think it was a good place to part ways, but those almost accidental endings seem so jarring.

Despite what my embroidery says, I’m not all bitter and angry.  I’m lucky to have the love of my family and friends and I very much value their presence in my life.  Then again, things are pretty awful right now, so I feel like engaging in a little bitter, dark, vulgar embroidery is totally justified…at least for one day.  I’ll do something cuter tomorrow, promise 🙂

I just found this excellent reminder to help us keep it all in perspective…

All the heart-shaped boxes of chocolate goodness will be half off tomorrow. Treat yourself.

LOL, good one, Dottie.

Mood: Like me and the universe are buzzing on the same frequency
Music: Kreator-Under the Guillotine


So, I’m sort of Internet dating again.  I wrote about this before but never finished the story.  Honestly, there wasn’t a lot to tell and sharing that little bit didn’t ever seem like a high priority.  Still, I guess I owe you guys something…

I put an ad on plentyofish.com and a more LGB-oriented site the first time.  I chose plentyoffish because it was free and because Sarah had mentioned it and seemed to have had some luck with it.  My luck wasn’t as good.

I got a few responses right away.  I wish I could reproduce these, but it looks like the stupid site deletes messages after a while.  The first one was from a barely-literate, thick-necked goobery dullard from the boonies.    If you’ll permit the dramatic reproduction…

hey sweete,

ur pretty.  you should call me. we can have nice dinner and ill give you some sweet lovin.

call me,

dateraper469

Wow…so…flattered.  Here’s the imaginary response I sent him via the Psychic Friends Network…

Mr. dateraper469,

Until the end of our days together, you sir, may regard me as your beloved, your Miss Hathaway.  Your simple note was as sweetly rendered and as charming as any of our great Bard’s sonnets.  Your words pierce the very beating heart in my bosom and I offer you my unyielding love and devotion.  I pray that you may return my ardor and I breathlessly await your reply.

Ever yours,

Mlle. Anna Hell

p.s. lol, jk, you’re a moron, don’t ever write me again.

The next message was from an utterly ordinary Westminsterian who looked just like a cop (he had that icky little cop moustache).  His email went something like

Hi Anna,

I had to look twice at your profile because it’s really hard to belive that you’re a guy.  But you seem like a nice person and I might be into trying that.

ttyl,

Officer Moustache

I answer most people, so I sent him a curt reply and mentioned that I wasn’t a guy and hadn’t ever been and that he was off to a really bad start.  He sent me an apologetic reply and asked me to forgive his ignorance.  I took me about a week to reply to him.  He wasn’t ugly and seemed stable and considerate, BUT, his profile was entirely devoid of personality, he looked police-y, and I doubt we had much more than a primate ancestry in common.  So I sent him back, what I thought was, a balanced, but direct reply…

Officer Moustache,

Look, you seem like a nice guy and all, but I’m borderline crazy and need a messy-haired, sexually adventurous musician/artist type who’ll worship me as a goddess from now until the day of our inevitable, explosive breakup.  I also want to snort coke off of a razor-sharp, six-inch long bowie knife and get filthy with the person I’m sleeping with on top of the Eiffel Tower some time before I die.  Something tells me you’re more of a homebody.  Good luck with “finding the one” and don’t bother to write me back.

Sincerely,

Anna Fucking Hell

And finally, kittens, I received a sweet, well-written series of notes from a rather attractive African gentleman.  The letters weren’t funny or weird at all, so I won’t try to reproduce them.  Basically, he told me how beautiful I was and shared with me his love of fine art, travel, and gourmet cuisine.   It still seemed like we didn’t have loads/anything in common but I need to get me some date experience, somehow.  So, when he asked me if I wanted to meet him for coffee, I happily accepted.  My too-good-to-be-true alarm started going off the next day.  I’ve been around the block before and I’m well-aware of how much most men hate reading dating site profiles.  I had to check…

Hi Africa,

I’m excited to finally meet you (and for you to buy me coffee, lol).  I just wanted to double check something before we meet up.  I know I’m just being silly and it’s a small matter, really, but do you remember how the first sentence of my profile said that I’m a pre-op transsexual woman in bold, giant, flaming italics?  You know what that means, right?  And you’re cool with that, right?

Just checking…

Anna

Africa never wrote me back.

……

But don’t cry for me, Argentina.  I’d much rather weed out the riff raff and get all of the unpleasantness out of the way before meeting for the first time.  Still, I’m deleting my profile from plentyoffish.com.  It’s a visually unappealing site that seems to be populated with nothing but meatheads.  I’m leaving the LGB site too…not a single person ever contacted me.

As I mentioned, I’m back at it again at a new site.  Things seem to be dramatically better this time.  I’ve already traded emails with a few interesting guys and one super cool woman and they all seem to be aware of and ok with my medical history.

Fingers crossed, y’all.


an introduction





Hi, I'm Anna and I love cheese!

This blog is a chronicle of my life and a catalog of happy ephemera. The About page has a little bit more information, but, remember, none of this is really me...it's just a supplement, a thumbnail sketch, a mostly anonymous Intarwebs placeholder. I'm way better/less wordy in person. :-)

Oh, and if I wrote something about you and you thought it was mean or hurtful, I'm sorry. It's how I felt at the time, but probably isn't how I feel now. Chances are, I love you and I think you're awesome.

copyright

All content on Blog, Sweet Blog is copyrighted by me, Anna Hell. Unless otherwise noted, all photos, words, and content on this site are mine, created by me, and should not be used without my permission (or at least attributed and linked back). I try to embed links or quote original source material if I use another person's work.

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