My Own Worst Enemy

It's no secret I only date older men. It's also not a secret why I only date older men. Can you say 'Daddy Complex'?!? I always joke to the men I meet, date, devour, scar, ruin, annihilate, etc. to, "Hug your daughters or you'll get...me!" They laugh and think it's cute but only because they hadn't met the 'Brat' in me...not the cute Gizmo gremlin version that you all love but the mean, ugly, destructive Spike gremlin version that no one loves

It's also not a secret that I am emotionally retarded. I don't know. Maybe it's the way I say it. The faces I make, the way I cock my head to the side or the hand gestures I use but people often laugh and tell me how clever I am. But I say it not to be clever. I say it to be real.

Now why I'm emotionally retarded is a whooooole other post....hmmm, more like postsssss. Just how emotionally retarded I am just hit me in the face. I fucking HATE it when the past I try so hard to out run catches me and hits me right in the smacker.

Not many people see or know the real me. I work damn hard to make sure no one does. I hide behind the Caddy, the hair, the boobs, the designer shades, the Chanel No.5, the Louis and most importantly the attitude. I'm a itty bitty Mexican at 5'3" who walks around like she's 7 feet tall. I'll step to any dude and talk shit, regardless of size. You'd think knowing that he can and will kick my ass would deter me but it never has. My instinct to fight and my almost natural default emotion of anger is simply just the vehicle I take in order to survive. When I got knocked up at 17 and my dad told me I wasn't ever going to be anything but a loser, just another Mexican on welfare. I got angry. Not the, "fuck you who do you think you are talking to me like that, you're just my step dad" angry. But the "oh hell nah, I'm gonna show you mother fucker" angry. When my ex husband told me  no one would ever want me and I would be nothing without him. I got angry. Not the angry that had me screaming fuck you asshole but the angry that had me shut my mouth, keep it shut and had me pack up all my shit while he was away at work angry. When my ex boyfriend beat and cheated on me. I got angry. Not the angry that had me crying and pleading for him to stop. I got the, "fuck you let's box 12 rounds mother fucker and after we're done - get the fuck up out of my house" angry. With every fall, with every mistake I get angry. I say fuck you to life, the rough breaks, to the bullshit and the unfair hand of cards I was handed. I say fuck you, it's only gonna make me better and it has. I have a successful career and money in the bank. And while the facade of my attitude has served me well for so long, it now leaves me feeling helpless, unsure and out of control.

Maybe I have a shitty track record with men because me, not them? Ok, it is me. It is my fault because the anger I use to feed my need to succeed, to open the doors everyone told me I'd never get through  is also the safety blanket I hide behind when it comes to men. When I say I'm the girl you love to hate, it's only because I am. My plan of attack to men is just that, an attack. I show them the asshole in me just so I can run them off.  Boy does my heart go out to those that think they can break me and kill me with kindness. They inevitably run off cursing my name but still oddly fascinated with me. It happens EVERY TIME. I have references if you're interested... I once told a guy I couldn't date a man who drove an old car much less a sedan. Do you know that fool showed up to my house  with a brand spanking new Infinti G35 coupe!!! And before you ask, no I didn't feel bad when I told him I still  wouldn't date him. I've done soo many things to men I am not proud of - which is not to be confused with the fact that, if in the mood, I will brag about it. Looking back I can't help but to giggle feel guilty at how cruel I have been. In the end, I've convinced myself that men like Asshole, Mother Fucker and Fuckface were worthy of my company because they were able to penetrate my bullshit (yes, pun totally intended). Which brings to the point of my post, what do you do with the man that can see you through your bullshit in the matter of minutes and still thinks you're great?!? What do you when the facade you have a death grip on no longer serves it's purpose? How do you swallow defeat?

In a moment of pure panic, I did the unfathomable and exposed myself.  I tried telling him just how emotionally retarded I am. I told him to move along because I was damaged goods, that I'm not a normal chick. I tried telling him that I'm so dense when it comes to matters of love and dating, that I hadn't even realized he was hitting on me. When he texts me normal 'hey, I'm digging you texts' not only do I  have no idea what to say but I don't even know what to do. You know, I've actually tried hiding from my cell phone...!!! Sadly that didn't work when I remembered I have a teenager to track. So here I sit facing just how fucked up I really am. Completely lost on what to do knowing that a life with FF is one designed out of a false fucked up sense of security and not one designed out of the love I so desperately want.

Nothing. I've Got Nothing.

I'm dying to post something that will provoke "it". I don't want to flatter it and dedicate a post to it...that is after all what it wants - attention. Truth be told, I feel sorry for it. And not for the obvious such as it's strong resemblance to Justin Bieber...which truth be told is more of an insult to Justin who is after all only just a child. Or it's lack of talent or those self inflicted duck lips...if it had been born with those lips, I'd defend it...but it purposely made it's lips like that...in hopes of being cute?!? That alone is reason to have pity on it yet that is not the reason it has won my sympathy. I think it's hitting everyone's blog because it has no friends, no life and nothing better to do than to provoke a group of women who have real life interesting things to post about instead of bullshit wanna be beatnik shitty poetry. For that, IF I had a heart, it would go out to it.

Sorry this is a lame post but I'm just not feeling like me lately. For those of you, like me, who's nose is constantly buried in a book, you may know Andre Dubus and the tradegy he experienced. For those of you who do not...Andre was driving home one night when he saw a man and a woman standing by their car in another lane. After pulling over to lend assistance, he was hit by an oncoming car. As a result of the injuries he suffered, Andre was never able to walk again and naturally fell in to a deep depression. Tobias Wolff, another writer, called Andre after his accident. When Andre heard Tobias' voice he broke down, cried and told Tobias that he wasn't able to write anymore and asked why he couldn't. Tobias said he couldn't write because his body was broken and his body and spirt are one and that they were both mending. Perhaps that is the root of my writer's block? My body isn't broken but I do know my spirit is.