Just a quick post to let you know that I'm totally safe and sound. I didn't even lose power. I'm using my time, right now, to clean and later to grade. Yesterday was mainly spent sitting at my computer refreshing emergency info waiting for the power to go out and cooking decadent food with my perishable items lest I lose them. So now I have spiced red lentils with eggs and yogurt and potatoes in cream sauce in addition to apples and protein bars.

It hurts me that David did not bother to see if I was alright. After being such a dick, one text message asking if I was ok so out of the question? ( I suppose it is.) People I've never met on FB showed more concern. And this is something I've never understood. How can someone go from telling you that they care about you, that they will always care about you to this? For me, it's not possible. I always wonder about them. Even if I don't call. I wonder about them. I check in, from time to time, on their FB pages to see if they are ok. Nothing more. But I've never mastered being able to go from caring for someone to not in minutes, days, weeks. Even my students. I care about them, even after they leave my class and never think of me again. I think about them. Wonder what happens to them. Some stay in touch.

Most don't.

But I'm still here. Cleaning and, soon, grading as I wait to hear when the MTA might run again.

Labels: dave, david, heartbreak loss, hurricane sandy, survival

Labels: break up, breaking up, date, dating, dave, david, eHarmony, facebook, heartbreak, heartbreak loss, online dating

The last two weeks have been an epic shitshow. The type of shitshow where if I had to pick between having my spine removed without novocaine and living through the last two weeks, I'd be spineless right now.

So this week didn't exactly inspire me with hope. Except.

Yesterday I didn't want to wake up. I could sleep late with my cat. We snuggled, her purring loudly, despite the work men literally feet from my sleeping body until around 10:30. Even with the loudest of drills inches from my head, I didn't want to get up, but finally I roused myself. I made it, barely, to therapy. Afterwards, now awake and hungry, I decided to venture into Eric Kayser the new authentic French bakery. I fell in love the moment I walked in. CHOUQUETTE! THEY HAVE CHOUQUETTE. Chouquette are a mad obsession of mine because I believed that no place in NYC would ever make chouquette.

I stand, happily, corrected.

And Paris-Brest that tastes like divinity itself. Despite my fatassery, I bought both managing to resist the financiers and madeleines.

I'm sure Proust would be proud.

I walked down the sunny street, happily munching on buttery, sugary, airy chouquettes until I got to the park.

I sat down and just enjoyed the sun and the people. It's not often I think nothing.

I thought nothing.

I watched a bit, but mainly I just felt the sun on my shoulders.

It's not often I don't feel lonely.

But I felt completely happy. Sitting. Alone. Not checking my phone. Not grading. Not talking. Not having to be anywhere.

I kept telling myself I should go. I had papers to grade. Handouts to write. An apartment to tidy. But I just sat watching the turbulent water. Enjoying the sun. Listening here and there to dogs yipping and children playing but mainly just being detached from everything, achieving that rare nirvana like state that only french confections on a perfect fall day can instill.

I was perfectly happily.

For a moment, I thought of David. Of what he was missing. This perfect happy day. I wasn't missing him. No. He was missing it, wherever he was.

And whether he knew it or not meant nothing to me.

It's a little known fact that Optimism was actually a philosophical system based on the idea that if God is all knowing and beneficent this must be the best of all possible world for he could create no other. Most days I find that the most ridiculous, insulting belief.

Yesterday, I thought it was possible. 

Labels: david, french pastry, happy, optimism

Those faithful followers of the blog know I protect the identities of those I write about as much as possible. After all, I write under a nom de plume myself so I try to protect my subjects. (Granted my alter ego now has far more online presence than my real one.) So while crazy asshats I've dated by the bushel, I've done my best not to out them here.

But there comes a time when assholery must be exposed and I've done that too. There's a certain time when it becomes a public service and I consider my job to protect the general population from men that even a hardened professional like myself finds so abhorrent I've called in a favor or two ensure they go to the special hell saved for child molesters. Some of my best blogs have been when I got all het up with the passion of Nemesis and let some utter deserving rat fucker have the full force of my divine wrath."Somebody get me a gallon of kerosene and a lighter because I'm gonna burn this bridge." Afterward I'm gonna sow the ashes with salt so for years after people will see the barren earth and know the legend of David-he who stooped to conquer.

Tonight Dave, you get to join those few, those pathetic few, to whom I have given a name on this blog. But even amongst them you are unique.You went farther than all of them. I loved you. I did. And because of that I put up with so much horseshit, you showing up at my apartment so shitfaced you didn't know what day it was, abandoning me in the middle of the night in PA, calling me one day to say you want to take me to Paris and two days later to tell me you don't think we can be friends. And I put up with it for 2 single reasons. One despite all of that, I loved you because underneath all the bullshit, so I thought, was a truly precious individual struggling to get out. And two you were the only person in my entire life who saw beauty in my disability and that alone is worth a small truckload of horseshit.

So when you read this please understand what you have done. Not only do I no longer believe there is anything worthwhile about you, I think you're the monster. Because if you ever cared for me. If you ever loved me. The idea of what you did would make you never stop throwing up and I should know. Because even AFTER you've done this, I've still pretty much refrained from doing anything terrible to you...and I totally, and easily, could.

Let me begin by saying this: I understand if men...or women don't want to hear from me again. A month ago a guy told me that after date three. And know what? Totally fine with that. The guy I dated for three years and dumped me by text message? Cut him off. When he came sniffing around 6 weeks later, I told him to fuck off.  Haven't contacted him since.

But here's the thing don't then text that you're trying to call me and when I call back have a third party intercept the call and say "He doesn't want to talk to you anymore." What kind of fucked up fourth grade bullshit is that? I mean the mind fucking boggles. Why not just text me to leave you alone? AFTER ALL I BLOCKED YOUR PHONE NUMBER SO YOU COULDN'T CALL ME. Seriously?  This was your... killer move after I've been dealing with your drunken shenanigans for months? This is what I get for when you showed up at my place unannounced so shit faced you didn't know what day it was or what time and I still took care of you. While you lay in my bed and I sat outside reading so you could rest and then when I talked to you when you said you wanted to die. The price of my friendship, the price of that evening out of which I got nothing including babysitting money, is so cheap to you you decide to stoop where no man before sought to bend. Not to mention it has cost me the belief than anyone can find beauty in my disability.

Let me remind you of something David. No man has ever destroyed me. Many have tried. All have failed. But I, in my time, have a few scalps to my name. When Eric left, I became cruel and I openly admit I destroyed some people just because I could. Since then I vowed to be a kinder gentler sex monster. But you didn't just awaken the beast. You pissed in its face. There's only so much anyone can take.

And I do have a mean streak. And when I warn you again and again don't fuck with the monster. Then don't fuck with it. Because I save everything. Every raunchy email. Every secret text. I have pages and pages of journal entries, plane tickets, presents, trinkets, hell friends who know who you are. And here's why you don't want to fuck with me. You can't do anything. Not one damn thing to stop me partially because I have both evidence and the first amendment on my side (yes I actually researched this when I started bunniblog so I'm solid on my first amendment law). But also because I have this tiny pathetic life already so there's nothing you CAN take from me.

You, on the other hand, have lots of fun things to gamble and loose.

A friend of mine last night asked me why not just let it go? Why not let it go?! A valid question. After all, that's precisely what I've done so many times before with Mr. 3 Years Text Message Break Up. I just walked away. I spend my entire life turning the other cheek. When people stare at me in hatred because of what I look like, when men openly LAUGH at me on the street on my way to work, students openly betting on how tall I am, I turn the other cheek. It's a choice. But do not get me wrong, it hurts. Not just casual disdain, but the lack of empathy. I can feel your pain, but you refuse to feel mine. A reminder of just how alone, how different I am from all of you. And what's worse is you have so much you take for granted. The ability to run upstairs, feel the sand beneath your feet, not have to worry about what people think of the scars and the deformity not to mention the severely shortened life span. How many things have I lost because I lost the neuroblastoma lottery?And I wouldn't mind losing it if you all appreciated what you have. But you don't even think about it and when you see me instead of feeling grateful for what you have, you revile me for what I can't.

And every day I turn the fucking other cheek. It is exhausting and depressing and aggravating, but I do it.

But there comes a time when someone does something so spectacularly cruel, something that I absolutely can not countenance. For someone so goddamned lucky to openly, publicly, spit in the face of someone that only hours ago he claimed to care? No. Actions have consequences. And if I have to live with this chest sucking pain that I don't deserve you can goddamn well bet I'm going to take someone deserving down with me.

For now, I've only identified the person by first name. But I have all kinds of tricks up my sleeve and Dave would do well to remember that when I started this blog it was to warn the world about another grade A rat fucker. It seems fate has played a hand with public enemy number one and his life, currently, is precisely what he feared the most it would be. So I'm content to just giggle when I see his completely bald head on fb (he's 7 years younger than me but MAN he did not age well). But long ago, this blog was a top search result for his name. You wanna play rough? Just remember it's hard to win against someone with nothing to lose.

And as for the rest of you, a question. What would you do? If someone you loved and forgave time and again did something so vile you not only can't forgive, you can barely begin to contemplate, what would you do? Turn the other cheek? Seek vengeance? Have you before? I'm curious.(Oh on a side note. My halo scan comments expired so you have to use blogger comments. For some reason the comment box ONLY appears when you click on the particular post so scroll down to the bottom, hey look, you're here already! Click on the time stamp. Two comment boxes will appear. Use the blogger one. Anyone can comment, even anonymously same as before. Enjoy. And anyone who wants to help me with formatting shit in regards to comments, please email me and misslapin@gmail.com . Thanks.)

Labels: asshat, boyfriend troubles, boys, break up, breaking up, david, ex boyfriend nightmare, ex-boyfriend, heartbreak loss, idiocy, loneliness