Craigslist Chronicles Part Deaux.

It's time for another round of Craigslist Chronicles!

Here are a few gems from the month of December ....

Lisa (Ghost) - m4w - 48 (tulsa)

Lisa
you will be visited by three ghost..I hope they help you on our relationship...if there is ever to be one the first will come tonight at one a.m.

(lisa)GHOST 1 - m4w (the past)

How we have changed; or chained our love lives. Nothing seems as simple as it appears. We hold on to past situations and people that have abused us which allowing us to carry this binding Sinicism into our relationships (present/future) righteously. We look at our partner and we search to expose any flaw or weakness they exhibit. Our embattlement is only fueled by the anger we feel for others in the past. Somehow it makes us believe that we can righteously judge others with the protective vigor that blindly and pride fully detours us from the person in our past that we think about. Falsely it protects us from ever being hurt; embarrassed or ashamed of whom we want the world to think we are. Are we not human? It is possisible that another could love us as i do you (THOUGHT FOR TODAY) Let your self be love as I have you since you were 14. Follow …Daniel

Lisa (ghost #2) - m4w (Present)

Did you think of us this week..this month or this year...When you look at your present relationship...is it everything you expected or is it just passing time..Do you spend your energy trying to foget the past....the hussel and the bussel of the season is upon us...We look at sales adds and think to ourselves :I'd like to buy that that for ....and then we remember...pride...It has kept us from the one we vigorously build blocks for ...our wall is more important...Be careful...afairs of the heart always speak at the most in opportune times..Don't shut out those who truely love us most....I thought of you today as i did yesterday and the the day before that....Daniel

(LISA)ghost 3 - m4w (future)

Is ot cold outside or inside (our hearts)all of our lives we spent building the wall around our heart..Bravo..we have finally acheived what we worked so hard for...althought loneliness is exactlty that. We look back in our final day,hour minute and see only smoldering bridges and paths grown over and ask where is everyone we knew...as we look back to those that have passed before us ,we say to ourselves..we should have ,could have,but didn't...20/20 is full view of life...Today I wsh you a merry christmas...Daniel.Poe..final ghost.........

I absolutely LOVE this concept. This guy spent the entire month of December spacing out these posts. On Christmas Eve—FINALLY—the series was complete. Merry Christmas to me! 

After I saw the first post, I have been repeatedly checking the missed connections all month, just waiting for the next post to come along. I admire Daniel’s dedication. He must really love this Lisa. I wonder how long they’ve been apart. Why did it end? Does she still love him? Is it really pride and fear of admitting their mistakes that has kept them apart for so long? 

What a shame. I can even let him off the hook for murdering a thesaurus in his attempt to send his regrets out into the world. It reminds me that it is ok to make fools of ourselves in the name of romance. It is better to be open. Life is not meant to be wasted. I hope Daniel finds a way to overcome his regrets. I hope I never make those kinds of mistakes.

---

Crystal Pistol 12/9 - m4w

Well, the truth is, I didn't dance with you because you're not any good at it. The way you jerk your body around to music kind of reminds me of some kinda African warrior dance. I'm sorry but there is just no way I could even phathom a way to follow a lead such as that. That's alright though, because you're one of the fortunate ones that could make a train wreck look sexy. Even though I don't understand the way you move when you dance there is something about you that can make it appear to be so beautiful. I enjoyed our conversation and just wanted to say I hope everything works out well for you.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA … SNORT! --- I’m almost positive that this one is about me. There were a total of 2 girls on the dance floor that night. And he’s right, I dance funny. Yes. It works for me. And I’m slightly insulted, but mostly flattered that I can make a train wreck look sexy. Because, let’s face it: Shannanigans is often a train wreck.  

Dating in a Digital World: The Best Practices Manual for the Boys who Digitally Woo.

You men are always complaining that you don’t know what we ladies want or expect from you. Whine no more, gentlemen. I’m going to give you a frickin’ road map here: 

Chapter One: On Texting …

A text is acceptable for first contact. Small talk (or small text) is ok to get to know one another a little better. You can text a request for a date. However, you get major kudos if you have the cojones to actually call us up and ask us out. Always in advance. A text at 3pm the day of still doesn’t work. 

If we give you our numbers, a “nice meeting you” text the same night or next day is ok. Just don’t text us 30 times the same night. Its unbecoming and makes you seem overeager. 

Keep the lol’s to a minimum. I much prefer a smiley, a haha,  a lmao, or in my case a SNORT!

Don't say lol after you’ve said something clever. Who wants to chat with someone that is constantly laughing at their own jokes? Not me. 

Picture messages of you or your body parts are unwelcome. Seriously. If that’s how you roll, post that crap on craigslist. 

Texting cute morning greetings are always appreciated. “Good Morning, Beautiful.” It takes 3 seconds and puts a smile on our faces all day long. 

If you send a cute text we are allowed to share it with our friends. It’s like getting flowers at the office rather than at home. The point is to have everyone gush over them. Not to keep them a secret. 

I know texting is informal. So what? Use punctuation.

Chapter Two: On Facebook …  

Friending on facebook is a mutual agreement to allow digital stalking privileges. Is a date ever really blind anymore? You’d have to be crazy to not peruse each other’s profiles before meeting up because your mutual friends, Kathy and Johnny, think you’d be good together. 

Side note: I will also search the OSCN court docket network. I want to know what kind of trouble you get yourself into before I agree to share a meal with you. You’d be surprised how many girls do this. 

Chatting is ok. Cute messages on our walls are better. (See the above flowers at the office reasoning.)

If the relationship should turn into something exclusive, you should be the one to update your romantic status. You are the man. Take the initiative. 

Remember: Its official if you’ve had the “let’s not see anybody else talk.” Its really official if you make it true on Facebook.

Did I Shave My Legs For This?

In lament of wasted effort, Dena Carter asked in exasperation:
“Did I shave my legs for this?”

Yes, Dena. Sucks doesn’t it? 

A while back I got stuck on wing woman duty on a Monday night. I ended up staying out hours after I wanted nothing but to be home and in bed with a book. But my girlfriend had her eye on a random acquaintance of mine. Let’s say he is a second buddy twice removed. Let’s say his name is Elliot.
(Because his name is Elliot.) 

I stayed out late and had to mainline coffee at work the next day all in the interest of allowing my girl some time to flirt and kiss and enjoy her night. Numbers were exchanged and finally (Thanks be to God) I was able to head home. 

Not even 24 hours later, I ran into Elliot. And he was getting cozy with some new girl. She was rocking more eye makeup than an Ulta cashier and a ratty bouffant ponytail. Yuck. So much for my lack of sleep the night before. I message Valerie to tell her dude is a jackass, although I already suspected as much considering his taste in beers. Stella? It is kinda girly. Stella in the winter when they had a Bridgeport Seasonal on special? What a flamer. 

This is just one of the many instances in which we ladies wonder, “Did I really waste my time for this?”

Over the past few days I have really been pondering the current dating climate my friends and I find ourselves in. And, I have been joking with my buddies that I am dating myself. I think it has evolved to more than a joke now. Sure I have a crush on somebody. But, sometimes I wonder if I have a bigger crush on the idea of somebody. So I am putting myself on a timeout. 

No, Dena. I am NOT going to shave my legs for this. No, seriously. I’m not shaving. 

I actually started this kick a week or so ago. I decided it was a good idea to stay prickly as an added incentive to avoid trying to make out with my crush since I’ve been painfully direct as it is. I don’t need to start physically attacking him, too. Poor guy. 

I was talking with Coop last night and I realized, this has been the longest I’ve gone without shaving since … well, pretty much forever. 

We joked that I could alternate legs. Keeping one unshaven and shaving the other to minimize my irritation with it. I swear I don’t know how hippie women do this shit. I am still shaving my armpits. I think the legs are enough.  

Even though I don’t understand how hippie women do this, I understand why they do it. It really is kind of liberating. I wouldn’t go so far as to burn my bras. Hell no. I have cute bras. I’m not ruining them. 

I know this has a shelf life. There is no way in hell I could pull this off in the summer. No way I’d want to. So maybe by the time the winter has passed and the sunshine comes back to Oklahoma, I’ll be ready to come out of my self-imposed hibernation. 

Damn. My only regret is that I didn’t store up for the winter.

Quotes from the kitchen ....

We've been crowded in the kitchen making yummy food for the Ugly Sweater Party. Here's what we've said to each other so far:

Jill: "Just stop talking asshole"

JJ: "Whatever. I've got a knife, bitch"

Shay: "There's a lot of love in this house. It just warms the cockles of my heart! .... What is a cockle anyway? I'm gonna google it."

cock·le 1  (kkl) n. 1. Any of various bivalve mollusks of the family Cardiidae, having rounded or heart-shaped shells with radiating ribs. 2. The shell of a cockle. 3. A wrinkle; a pucker. 4. Nautical A cockleshell. intr. & tr.v. cock·led, cock·ling, cock·les To become or cause to become wrinkled or puckered. Idiom: cockles of (one's) heart One's innermost feelings: The valentine warmed the cockles of my heart. [Middle English cokel, from Old French coquille, shell, from Vulgar Latin *cochillia, from Latin conchyllium, from Greek konkhulion, diminutive of konkh, mussel.]

Jill: "Oh my GOD! WHAT IS THAT!!! It's the most disgusting thing I've ever had in my mouth."

Shay: *under her breath* "Doubtful."

Shay: "What is that in the air?"

Jill: "Oh FUCK! My pita chips!"

Jill: "Artichoke hearts are weird"

Jill: "Is something burning? OH SHIT! My Pita chips again!!! Fucking timer stopped."

Shay: "Well, we could disguise them for blue-corn pita chips?"

Can't wait for tonight! 

Top 10 Reasons Why it is Fun to Date Myself

1. I don’t have to argue at the RedBox.
2. I can hog all of the covers.
3. On any given night I can go on dates with Kurt Vonnegut, Rob Sheffield, Walt Whitman, Augusten Burroughs, Steig Larsson and other sexy writers. And, I never get bored with the conversation. 
4. I always think I look cute. Even when I probably don’t. 
5. It is cheaper to take myself to dinner. 
6. Nobody makes fun of me for reading “Love is a Mixtape” for the umpteenth time. 
7. I get to pick the songs in the car. 
8. I never have to share my ice cream.
9. I only have to do my own laundry. 
10. I can be lazy about shaving my legs.

On Family Traditions and Their Ever-Evolving Beauty

This year has flown by. It feels like I sneezed and with the “Gesundheit!” went the entire course of events during the last 11.2 months. The Holidays? ... Already?

I love the Holidays. So I guess that is my consolation for the fact that every year speeds by faster than the last.

Holidays are special because I am a part of this loud, loving clan of smart-asses. And like all families we have our traditions. Some traditions have evolved. Some have faded to happy memories as the people who embodied them have passed away. But they continue to shape me nonetheless.

My Grandmother’s birthday was Christmas Day. I remember the whole family squeezing into her little house—the adults sitting upstairs and sharing conversation. My cousins and I causing a ruckus in the basement.

Grandma had this tiny porcelain statue of a Christmas tree. It had these plastic light bulbs attached to its branches that lit up when you plugged it in. That was our tree, standing proudly on the end table. It was always swallowed by the dozens of packages surrounding it. And we all loved it. It reminds me of Grandma herself. Tiny, proud and always surrounded.

The furry hat is also a fun part of our Christmas. For decades my Aunt and Uncle have been trading off years—giving each other the same, God-awful, furry hat as a gag gift. My Grandma made it from extra material left over from the God-awful furry vest she made. The hat looks like either a drowned bunny rabbit or squished squirrel road kill. I can’t decide which.

Nevertheless, this perpetual Christmas gift just keeps on giving. They have had to think up clever ways over the years to sneak the gift into each other’s possession: In the hollowed-out insides of a book, shoved down inside a coffee cup that was supposed to be filled with treats, hidden under pillows, given in gifts from other family members, etc.

It’s been fun to watch.

Even though my Brother, my Dad and I tease my mom for her 45 boxes of Christmas decorations (I’m not kidding. They take up the entire garage) I love the atmosphere it creates.

My mother’s Christmas tree is the most beautiful decoration I have ever seen. She is talented. It is all white lights, blown glass bulbs, crystal, gold and burgundy. It shines with the fame festive optimism that my mother represents.

During my college years, I used to love sleeping on the couch during my Holiday visit. Early in the morning my Mom would pad quietly into the living room and turn on the lights to the tree. She would sit down in her recliner and sip her coffee and enjoy the tree. I knew it was a moment in time very special to her.

Most of the time she woke me up. Sometimes, I would lay there with my eyes closed and pretend to sleep just listening to her rock the recliner, sip her coffee and enjoy her beautiful tree. Sometimes I would get up, pour myself some coffee and come back and sit down with her. We’d have whispered conversations before the rest of the house stirred. I cherish those moments with my mother. Simple, quiet and beautiful.

13 Santa Hats. Somewhere amongst the 45 boxes of Christmas decorations there is a bag full of Santa hats. Everyone must wear a hat while we open our gifts. It is always fun and we all love it. Dad grudgingly participates, but secretly I think he likes it, too.

Life is in the little things. The tiny porcelain trees. The road-kill head gear. The quiet moments. Every day I find something to be thankful for and something simple to count as extraordinary.

I’m grateful for the traditions that make O’Connell Holidays extraordinary. Sometimes I get a little sad wishing that all of the moments I mentioned will go on forever.

It is these twenty-something years where childhood traditions start to slip away. While I am sad to see some of them go; their absence leaves room for me to experience and build some special memories of my own.

Tonight my roommates brought home our Christmas tree. We got a live one and the living room smells deliciously like pine and packing dust from all the ornaments. This scent makes me feel like I am five years old. It has been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of a live Christmas tree. I think I will have a live tree from now on—pine needles be damned.

The house is full of twinkle lights and fresh pine and red-dirt country Christmas music. And I am content.

Goodnight All,

Shaymarie.

Thanksgiving ...

Loud-mouthed O'Connells
Friends and Bashers
A McBadass Wifey

Rental Husbands (Thanks JJ!)
ALI Coop
Bee & his Budweiser lip gloss.
17 pound kitten cuddles
Converse All Stars and hooker heels
Laughing till I snort 
Book stores
Skittles and Flicka

Mt. Dew
Acrobatant
Beer
Oklahoma lakes
Football

Avocados
Chocolate
Sweatpants and fuzzy slippers
Music

These are just a fraction of the amazing things that complete my universe.

Random Thoughts: Volume 2

There is only one way to determine the right of way when cutting across parking lots: If their car is more ghetto than your car, you have to yield. 

When I grow up, I want to be Betty White. 

If you ladies want to ensure you NEVER get to dance with the cuties at the bar … bring a drunk, gay man with you to the dance floor. 

I disagree with Chelsea Lately, Sarah Palin isn’t the Snookie of politics. She’s the Anna Nicole Smith of politics ... Now if only she would die.

Bristol Palin is competing in the Dancing with the Stars finals this week. Break a leg Bristol! No, really. Break a leg. 

It is too early in the relationship for a booty call if you are worried about whether you have recently shaved your legs. 

I’m Team Jacob. 

Yep. 

Totally Team Jacob.

I wonder if a fart machine would qualify as a White Elephant Gift for the office gift exchange … 

I’ll know I’ve met “the one” when I prefer his company to that of chocolate and a good book. 

Hmmm. I need to buy some more chocolate. 

The Catholic Church finally agrees that AIDS is worse than using contraceptives. The good news is priests will finally stop spreading STD’s to altar boys. 

There are two types of people in this world:

Fancy pants cranberry people and cranberry in a can people.  

Why do we make the president waste time pardoning a Turkey? Doesn’t he have enough shit to do?

I bet Larry King Sleeps in his suspenders.

Ciao!

~ Shannanigans

Welcome to the Craigslist Chronicles! (Oh and Shannanigans is BACK!)

Guilty Pleasures. We all have them. One of my favorites is the Missed Connections section of Craigslist.

I love. I absolutely love! Some are just soooo cute. Others are really wacked out. Some just make me shake my head in wonder at the hot mess humanity has become. No matter what, they put a smile on my face when I am feeling down. 

I’ve decided to start a segment on this blog called the Craigslist Chronicles. Here’s how it will work: 

Every now and then I’ll post some diamonds in the rough from the missed connections. (of course I’ll be giving my two cents on each entry) I will also crown a winner of the day and leave it up to the rest of you to decide the Epic Failure of each segment. 

I had a LOT of fun writing this one so I hope you guys enjoy! 

To the beautiful woman in my phone - m4w (Caravan) Last Saturday night, you stopped me and asked if I was there with anyone. When I answered no, you asked me to take a picture with you. I was supposed to text it to you, but fat-fingered the last digit. Now, in the words of Def Leppard, all I have is a photograph..

 

Mister Caravan, you are pretty awesome. I hope she answers you back. You are my Craigslist Chronicle Winner for today! 

Now on to the Epic Fail! Portion of the Evening! I’ll let you guys decide who wins. 

cute candy dot at spider ball - m4w - 34 (Downtown) you were walking through spider ball this past saturday night dressed up like those dot candies. you were with a guy that had the same type of costume and i'm hoping he is just a freind. you were adorable and you passed me where it changes over to the enso side and smiled right at me. let's at least chat because you look like you are a real sweetheart.

Awww! You are so cute. But, you are crazy if you think a guy would wear a Candy Dots costume to match another girl if he wasn’t getting any. Come on! I understand you want to be optimistic, but isn’t it obvious? 

Here’s a good life lesson for you: Wearing matching (and ridiculous) costumes = they are screwing like rabbits. Or, she has been holding out and he would wear whatever she asked to make it to home base.  He’d gladly sport a diaper and carry a bow with heart shaped arrows calling himself Cupid if that would grant him access to her Valentine. 

Sorry honey. But they went home and f@#$%& their dots off. 

James, Hitchhiking at QT - w4m - 21 (Claremore) My friend and I pulled up to quiktrip in Claremore on Sunday night around 12 or 1am in a black Ford Taurus. You asked if we could give you a ride home! You were ungodly trashed and i felt bad for you. You swore up and down you'd give me and my friend anything we wanted, a pack of cigarettes and $20. I gave you a ride to your house over on Blue Starr, you never gave me my frickin' money, cigs, or What i wanted!!!! If you still think i'm hott and sexy like you said then you better reply to this cuz i thought you were cute too. 

Jeezy Creezey! You must have some serious daddy issues. No self-respecting girl that Daddy raised right would (1) pick up a young, drunken hitchhiker; (2) let a man get away with breaking a promise; and (3) then think that man was worth a second look.

Another thing … YOU KNOW WHERE HE LIVES YOU IDIOT! I bet if you slipped your number in his mailbox he’d be more likely to find you than by happening across some random post on craigslist. Just saying. Although he seems like such a scumbag that I hope you are as stupid and unresourceful as you seem so you don’t find him.

My advice: Idiocracy was eerily prophetic. (That means it is scary and predicting the future) Please use condoms.

 

hot milf wearing boots and the dress - m4w - 25 (b.a. walmart e. on 71^st)  you were at wal mart tonight with your son. You are smokin hot with ur red hair and nice thick ass, You were wearing tall boots and a dress. We made eye contact in the produce area. I followed you to the femine product aisle. I would really like to know what you were buying. I know its a one in a trillion chance but if you read this please let me know. 

 

Let me help you resolve the mystery. She was buying … TAMPONS! Well at best they were tampons. At worst, it was something for feminine odor or itching. If the latter, it is probably best to let this MILF go. If the former, she probably thinks you were a perve for trying to check out her “thick ass” while she was busy looking for her favorite brand of plugs.

 

We flirted with our eyes after the Bone concert - m4w - 31 (Tulsa) I walked across Cains after the Bone Thugs concert to where my 2 friends were talking to you and your friend. You looked HOT in your jeans and boots. I was wearing a black jacket and a gray hat. We met eyes a couple of times in passing but no words were exchanged. My friend said he was supposed to go to the bar to meet you, but i could tell it wasnt him you were into. I hope you read this. I feel like it was a missed opportunity.

 

Don’t you hate it when you are too stoned to function and then you miss out on something awesome? Sucks dude. But are you sure you flirted with your eyes? Even if you don’t smoke pot, which is not likely at Bone Thugs concert, I am convinced that there was enough in the air to give you the slant eye. You were probably looking at this girl through a tiny slit in your eyelashes. She probably looks like Morgan Freeman and you wouldn’t know the difference.

On the bright side, I made up another verse to that Afroman song!  

I was gonna talk to this girl. But then I got high.
I was gonna give her koochie a whirl. But then I got high.
Instead I am writing on Craigslist and I know why.
Because I got high. Because I got high. Because I got high.

Ok so that might not console you, but it just made me laugh my ass off. 

My money is on the dumb girl giving rides to strange men. But she's probably already going to win a Darwin Award (I hope) so maybe we should give the honor to the MILF perv?

Cheers,
Shannanigans

Blah

To be honest I wasn't a fan of the Commandments. I think they went downhill after the first post and I struggled to get through the last two installments almost as much as I struggled through the break up itself.

I am glad they are behind me and I'm looking forward to my upcoming posts that are more fun and less neurotic!

 More to come tonight!

Be Nice to the Strippers ... And the Final Break-up Commandment.

Valentine’s Day. Blah. It’s like New Years Eve, but worse. If you are coupled up, there is all this build-up and romantic pressure to have a fairy tale night. Like New Years, the celebration almost always fails to live up to our expectations. Like the countdown at New Years, all it does is remind you that you are single and you’ve got nobody to kiss at the end of the night. You don’t even get the day off work to cushion the blow. 

So we decided to celebrate a much more worthy holiday instead: Mardis Gras! 

Sunday is my day to ride bikes with my buddies in a scavenger hunt meets pub crawl fashion. Valentine’s Day fell on Sunday this year (thank you karma!) So I had 20 bike riding friends already lined up as my dates for the evening. 

It wouldn’t be Mardis Gras without the Hurricanes! We started the ride at Ed’s Hurricane Lounge for some delicious drinks. Everyone caught a little buzz and we moved on to the next stop. We threw beads off balconies and of course no MG celebration is complete without the boobies. So to the strip club we went! It was entertaining. There were a group of drunken bike riders (us) and a few sad, lonely men. We decided to drink pitchers and sit on pervert row. I passed out one dollar bills to everybody as Valentine’s. 

We got loud and crazy and the strippers were egging us on. We begged them to let us have our own stripping competition, but the owner didn’t want the liability. Sad. 

We eventually ended up at home for a Cajun style dinner and more drinks. Every single one of my 20 dates had a great time. Operation Valentine’s Day Neurotic Break-Down Avoidance was a success! 

 

Ok ladies. This is not another Break-up Commandment. It is just a damn good life lesson: 

Demand excellent treatment! 

I like nice guys. I like nerdy guys. I do NOT like cocky assholes. They are not the types you can count on in life. I have learned that lesson over my tenure as a single lady. Hence I find nice guys extremely sexy. I think it is because they are rare and underappreciated. I like finding awesome things that not everybody knows about. Being one of the few in on the secret. 

I need a nice guy because nice guys are the only ones capable of giving me what I need. I am not high maintenance in the way most guys think girls are.  I go with the flow. I can have fun doing just about anything. I watch football with enthusiasm. I don’t take 3 hours to get ready. I don’t care about material things. My heart goes more a-flutter from a surprise love note than it does from a flashy gift. Nice guys do the little things that I will notice and appreciate.

In hindsight, I can admit the ex was a nice guy when it came to the little things. He even seemed dependable. I could not have predicted he’d turn on a dime and leave with no warning. He didn’t distance himself in small increments. It’s just like the lights went off all of a sudden. 

There is nothing I could do about that. There really isn’t much I could have done to prevent it. I just have to believe that there is another nice guy capable of the little things. A guy that also endures and is able to work through the hard times. All I had to do in the meantime was focus on my own journey and endure until the pain faded. 

So that is what I did. I endured. Each day was better than the last until I was ok again. Sometimes that is all you can do when life throws you a curve ball. Just keep going through the motions until the momentum swings your way. 

And so I institute my final Break-up Commandment number eight: 

THOU SHALT MAKE THE BEST OF EVERY SITUATION

My mother is the embodiment of this commandment. She is my teacher and my best example of someone who has mastered the art of unconditional love. She makes the best of everything and everyone. She is the eternal optimist. And I love her for it. 

She taught me long ago that when you make the best of every situation and you see the best in others your own life improves a hundred fold. Yes. Sometimes people will let you down. My ex leaving probably hurt more because I chose to see the best in him and to believe in him with every fiber of my being. However, I know I was happier while we were together than I would have been if I had held back and harbored doubts. So it goes. Life is a trade off and I’ll take the pain because I know greater happiness comes with it. 

I’m not the reserved type. I go all in. I shoot for the moon. The beautiful thing about that is someday I will meet someone like me, and we’ll go all in together. I’m looking forward to it. 

All it took was good friends, some reckless behavior, a few stiff drinks, a self-deprecating sense of humor, and at times a touch of self-righteous indignation. Now I am home free. My first (and let’s hope to God last) dumpage experience is behind me. 

Cheers to single me. I’m happier today than I’ve ever been. My life is mine and it is a good one.

There’s a reason God invented sweat pants: Commandment 7

Even though I was parading about as superwoman and I had goals and cute outfits and some ego-boosting experiences I was still sad. So I let myself be sad. I moped for a few hours in my comfy sweatpants. I cried. I took molten-lava, hot showers and let the tears fall down the drain. I allowed myself moments of sorrow so I would not explode. 

It is ok to cry. It’s just not ok to do it 24/7. Thus the need for Break-Up Commandment number seven:

THOU SHALT FIND A BALANCE IN THY GRIEF

On my way home from work I realized that it had been almost a week since I had seen him or spoken to him. I was really starting to miss him even though I was so angry that he hurt me. I admitted to myself that I wished he would call or show up on his knees begging forgiveness. Even though I couldn’t take him back. Even though I knew he would never come begging. The fantasy ran stubbornly through my mind in a loop. And I really wished I could stop. Wanting. Wishing. Thinking about it. Damn him. Damn this. 

Yes, it hurt like hell. It’s not supposed to be fun. I was dumped.  I knew that obsessively dwelling on him would not help. Neither would ignoring my feelings about what happened. So for one night I let myself grieve and then I traded in the sweatpants for booty jeans and I went out to face the world. 

I made myself look at things in a new perspective. It really had been almost a week without him. I had almost made it through hell week. It was hard but I kept it together. And the weekend was almost here.My first full weekend as a sexy single about town. There were plenty of adventures awaiting me! 

I told my friends on Thursday night, “I HAVE TO HAVE FUN THIS WEEKEND!” They were game. We planned on going to an old hang-out of ours. I was 100% sure of not running into my ex there. I decided on an outfit after mentally perusing my closet during my lunch hour. New gray shirt, skinny jeans and my gray swashbuckler boots. HOT!

I planned on kicking some ass at pool and having a few laughs and a few drinks. Sport flirting and a further boost to my ego was in order. 

Friday night came around and we decided to ride bikes even though it was 9 degrees outside. (we’re hard core).  Since we were riding we adjusted our plans and headed downtown for drinks and Shannanigans. We arrived and met up with a few good people I had not seen in months. I ordered myself lunchboxes for the better part of an hour. (It’s like an Irish Car Bomb but with beer + amaretto + orange juice. Sounds weird but it is yummy!)

Liquid courage! Suddenly I was smart, sexy and utterly irresistible! What boyfriend? Who was that guy anyway? It was FOREVER ago! Party! Yeah! Another lunchbox! And a peanut butter and jelly shot!  (I was drinking in theme apparently). 

A little while later my co-conspirator swaggered in. Yes. Trouble was brewing and I was feeling a bit … Hmmm? Conspiratorial!  He caught my eye while he ordered a drink. I smiled my most wicked (and slightly drunken) of smiles. He came over and sat next to me and we talked with the group and he flirted and we ordered more drinks. 

We mingled and moved in different circles for a while as the bar got more crowded. I ran into several friends I laughed, danced and had a ball. 

The night was just what I needed. Sport flirting. A kissing sequel to rival the initial bathroom scene and then home to fall into bed at the wee hours of the morning. 

I decided to stay in Saturday night. My people were heading out to a cluster of bars where I knew I’d run into the ex. I was not ready to see him dancing with other girls and being a smooth arse charmer like I knew he would be. Plus I had consumed enough alcohol last night for the entire weekend. 

I ran to the book store. My mecca. I grabbed some new books to keep my mind occupied for a few weeks. This is what I love about fiction. I can get so engrossed in a story that suddenly I am transported to another world. I get to leave myself behind and become the main character. I found it a much more constructive way to get out of my own head than Lunchboxes.         

            

I read, relaxed and enjoyed some much needed downtime. I was happy that I could be alone with myself without getting too sad or feeling lonely. I went to bed early and got up on Sunday morning feeling refreshed and ready for action. 

Even if it was Valentine’s Day. 

Stay tuned. I spend an interesting Valentine's Day with 20 friends (not counting the strippers). 

The Break-Up Commandments for the Tossed Aside ... Part Deaux.

Back to the Grind: Commandments 4 - 6

The work week was floating by in slow motion. It seemed I could never be satisfied. When at work I had periods where I was focused on the task at hand. The minutes ticked by and my broken heart went unnoticed. At other times the ex was all I could think about and work seemed like so much effort. When I was at home there weren’t any distractions. I felt tired and scared shitless and overwhelmed.

It is was at those points in time I had to do a little self-comforting. And thus I discovered Break-Up Commandment number four:

THOU MUST DEVELOP BREAK-UP MANTRAS

When the emotional part of me was taking the lead and I felt myself at the edges of my sanity with panic and grief, I didn’t have much spare energy available to talk myself down. So I clung desperately to the following series of predetermined truths to cut down on the hysterics.

1. He cut and ran at the first sign of real trouble. I am built to love unconditionally and to work through anything. My family has been through some pretty trying experiences and we have loved each other deeply the whole way through. Him just giving up was unfathomable and unacceptable to me. This was not the person I can spend a life with. That was quite a mouthful to repeat to myself when I was at the verge of a full-blown, snotty cry (no pun intended). So, I shortened it to the following:

“He was flight and I am fight. And fight kicks flight’s ass!”

Say that 5 times fast!

2. Because he didn't stick around for the hard stuff, he never really cultivated deep friendships either. I have several people I can call at four o’clock in the morning. I couldn’t think of anybody like that in his life. (Should have been a huge red flag! I can be so blind sometimes)

“Eventually he’ll run from everyone and end up alone. Hmmm … Karma sucks dude.”

That was a tad vindictive. (Ok! More than a tad, I admit it.) But, it made me feel better knowing that he’d eventually have to face the consequences of his actions. It was comforting knowing that I would not be the only one to suffer.

3. I resolved to use the misfortune to my advantage. I started writing again. I trained for a long bike ride in the late spring. I’m got my house in order—since (Thank the Karma Gods!) I found a place to settle for the foreseeable future. I was determined to come out of it smelling like roses. Just to spite him.

“Just call me Andy Dufrane! I’ll crawl through this river of shit and come out clean on the other side”

If you have not seen Shawshank Redemption I have two things to say to you …

1) Shame on you. 2) Go buy it immediately.

Our past together didn’t help me. The present was painful. So it was important for me to have some mantras that were hopeful about my future. Seriously. Future Me I dreamed of was one kick-ass chica! (Just go with it. It was my ridiculous way of trying to ensure I would’t get dumped like that again.)

Thus I established Break-Up Commandment number five:

THOU MUST SET GOALS AND VISUALIZE ACCOMPLISHING THEM

I decided to spend more time cycling because it is something I really enjoy. I’m more of a baptism by fire kind of girl, so I registered for a 75 mile bike ride! Eeek! The most I had ridden in one sitting was about 20 miles so I had a loooong way to go. Good thing was I wasn’t worried about my heartache when my legs were about to fall off from the training rides!

I agreed to start attending a friend’s work out group every morning. Me + Cardio + 5:30 AM = righteous bitch! I didn't stick to that for long. Let's just say that a million lunges in one workout left me with serious inflammation in the tendons in my legs and I literally couldn't walk. So I decided to stick to cycling at more resonable hours of the day instead.

I also fantasized that I could write a chick lit novella about all my post-mortem adventures, get published and have the last laugh! Jen Lancaster, eat your heart out! This blog is my baby step in that direction. I really hope you guys like it!

Eventually, I planned on dating again. Just not right away. It would have been poor first date conversation to mention that I find the praying mantis fascinating because the female decapitates the male during sex. Call me crazy, but I doubt would have made it to date number two. Hmm ... Maybe if I were wearing my pink hooker heels. 

Sometimes all that self-empowerment, goals and mantras seemed like utter bullshit. Eh. Maybe it was. But at least I was trying. When that happened, I found it helpful to quit stalking his FaceBook and embrace Break-Up Commandment number six:

WHILST THOU IS ACTING LIKE A DEFEATED COW, SUMMON THY LADIES AND MAKE HASTE TO HAPPY HOUR 

Ahhhhh! Happy hour. How I love thee! This commandment was directly influenced by commandments 1-3. I would grab my awesome ladies, throw on a hot outfit and hit up happy hour for some sport flirting. It helped to blow off some steam

(If happy hour isn’t your thing find some mid-week activity, art opening, anything in your area and embrace it. Have a wing woman or women in toe. Do something you enjoy and spend some quality time with your friends to get your mind off things. Although if you are reading this you are probably a friend of mine. So by default you enjoy happy hour as much as I do.)

On one such occasion, I summoned the ladies and we hit a low-key bar for drinks and discussion. The four of us gossiped. We bitched about men (me and another unsatisfied friend), bragged about men (my 2 friends that are very satisfied). I liked that. It kept the conversation balanced. One buddy described her man’s dedication in the sack (very satisfied indeed!) and I say AMEN! God bless the boys that make our O a personal mission! We all laughed and gave her high 5’s at having landed a good catch.

It reminded me that there are good men out there. Not all of them are going to quit on you without warning or refuse to make an effort where your happiness is concerned (both in and out of the bedroom).

I left the bar feeling a little lighter. I went by a drive-thru on my way home. TAKE THAT! I’ll eat junk food if I want to … Fucker!

 Stay tuned for the next installment where I fall in love ... with sweatpants, return to my reckless behavior and get a little sidetracked on my discovery of the Break-Up Commandments