Happy Almost New Year.

Hello all,

So much has happened but I'm pretty much in the same place. Many of you don't know this but I have been talking to Fuckhead. It's a long story, but finally after enough abuse from him and a self realization, I will not be talking to him anymore. I feel so stupid for ever having believed that he would be better than what he was treating me. Writing this blog, as twisted as it may sound, is like free therapy for me. I have always been able to talk more freely about my life to strangers, it's the performer in me. Well, finally after telling the "Fuckhead and me" story to enough people with their response being, "....and you would want to get back together with him?", I realized no, no I would not. My best of friends and family have been telling me that it would not work because he is a ballless sack of crap, but I was stupid and now I want more for myself.

Moving right along, Christmas day was a bottle-of-rum blur followed by a pm rescue from my best friend to go see the Curious Case of Benjamin Button. She saved me right as I was on my last drink, playing cards with my cousins (whom I used to call the Rectangle Children, because of their shape and appeal), and allegedly started to make plans for a card tournament for Easter. All I got for Christmas was a "European" styled soccer jersey from my uncle, some socks, and an envelope of money which I keep playing boomerang with my parents. I told them not to give me anything. Isn't that nice, no gift required, I don't want anything, stop giving me that, stop, STOP!!! I'll probably end up taking it; I'm poor, not stupid.

On the 26th I came home to find Christmas part 3 in full swing. I raced through 30 oz. of red wine and then it was off to the local Pendleton bars with my favorite brother, sister-in-law, and cousin. Whoever said screaming Taylor Swift songs and constantly retelling a story of another cousin who passed out driving her car because she licked cat medicine off her hand was no fun has clearly never been to The Old Trail off of I-69. We were soon joined by a local family, friends through my brother, and I regaled them with stories of my colorful life. Dancing, travel, and celebrity. They "Oohed" and "Ahhed" in all the appropriate places and when I was done they told me that I had such an amazing life. Really?? I mean I always thought so, but to hear someone else say it was a compliment for which I was not prepared. Maybe I told it wrong...

We then went to the bar in downtown Pendleton where I was met by all of the most popular kids in my class. They came up to me and hugged me like I was the long lost friend they never never invited to a party or would talk down to when we were partners in math class. It was like Bizarro World. Up was down, right was left, and I was popular too. After that, this siren who was a senior in my show choir when I was a freshman came up to me, hugged me, told me how fabulous I looked and demanded that I come to New York to stay with her. She said that she had gone through a divorce that sounded similar to mine and could name 10 of her closest gay friends that would eat me up........I just need a minute to imagine that...............................that was awesome.

Am I popular now? Did having a failed life that involved me living at home with my parents and working in a superstore make me popular? Maybe I should rethink this whole popular thing.

As I was receiving my shots of self confidence from around the room my brother was shooting something else. I turned on myself to find him three sheets to the wind and in a better mood than I had seen him in in college.

Him: "Heeey Nouh, we gotta make you pard uh duh family."

Me: "Umm, I thought I already was?"

Him: "Naah, naah, com'er. HEY FAMILY!"

He proceeded to shake my hand and slap the crap out of it until it was swollen red and all veins had popped out of the top. "Ahh, mother fucker!", I said and responded the only way that seemed natural and slapped him across the face, twice. This apparently was not the reciprocal response he was anticipating and was very upset. My sister-in-law explained to him that I was of a lighter fair and did not respond to this fraternal showing. He brought over my cousin and showed me that appropriate response was to do it back. I then had to demonstrate my familial bond and do it with both of them, twice. My hand still hurts.

As for New Years Eve, I have tentative plans with an old friend and hope that he calls me to go out. Even if he doesn't call me I think I'll drive to Indy to go to a gay club by myself. I'm feeling empowered and in need of some attention I am not getting here at home. Until then I will work on my plan to build a time machine to go back in time 27 years and talk to Fuckhead's mother about her pro choice options. Would you want your baby to grow up to be a spineless chode? I wouldn't.