Taking It from Behind in Stride

Hello all,

After all the tumultuous dealings over the last few months, I did not need something else to add to the plate, but as my father said, "If we had luck, it'd be no luck." I don't fully understand that because if you had no luck you wouldn't have luck to begin with, but it sounds like it makes sense to him. My dad has many funny sayings, most of which are replacements for "Omigod!", such as "Goodnight!", "Merry Christmas!", and my favorite "Ho Chi Min!" Although my dad absorbs a lot from TV and movies, he is not a worldly man. Most of his pop cultural idioms come from the 1950's and he feels very "slick" saying them. I won't burst his bubble and tell him that Ho Chi Min is actually a Vietnamese communist leader.

But I digress. On the way to work a few days ago I was in heavy traffic and rear-ended by a Jeep Compass. Only my car was really damaged, and the other driver's insurance is paying for it all. I knew it wasn't my fault when it happened but the second after I was hit I yelled, "MOTHER FUCKER!" After all of the reserved, "Ho Chi Min"s and "Goodnight"s it felt so good to exclaim a real reaction. Say it now, "M-O-T-H-E-R F-U-C-K-E-R." Feels good, right? I knew it.

Since life is cyclical, "piss-on-your-leg"-type of joke, I have naturally had a resurgence of gentlemen callers. Scrooge didn't have it so bad.

Mr. C, the guy from Chicago, called me and told me that he had been thinking about me and wanted to know what I was doing. The last time we had talked his long term goals were for us to go camping at a gay campground in southern Indiana. There are so many things wrong with that sentence I don't have the time to explain to you why it wouldn't have worked out. He was instead going with his friends and wanted me to know that he was thinking about me.

Whoopty-freakin'-do. I'm sure he was. Not to sound too full of myself but I'm the cutest guy who ever pretended that he had a chance in hell with him. At the end of our conversation he said that I shouldn't be a stranger and to feel free to give him a call sometime. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was surprised that his number was still in my phone and I just said, "Ditto, bye!" and hung up.

The older gentleman who craigslisted me texted me today, prefacing his message with, "I'm not expecting a response, but I just thought I'd tell you that my new puppy hasn't gone potty in the house in 3 days." sigh.

This is who I attract. Desperate outdoorsmen and hypersensitive dog-owners. Lucky me. Lucky fuckin' me.

And last, but certainly not least, I got a text from Fuckhead today. Why? Why why why why why? It read, "I am mailing you something. You should get it by Thursday." I responded, "Why and what?" I didn't want to answer at first, I have been doing awesomely with my steps toward a life less failed and have been looking forward to not thinking about him everyday. But as SSSomeone told me, that's when they find you.

"I need to and it's a letter" he responded. I was driving home from work at this point and would have texted him but with my current driving situation I decided to brave the possibilities and call him instead. And by call him I of course mean yell at his voicemail, for he never answers....ballless sack o' crap. My message sounded something like this:

"Letter? A letter. Save your God damn postage! That letter's about 6 months too late! I don't care what you have to say! I don't want to know ANYTHING about you. If you need to write a letter to me to get things off your chest; write it and then throw it away! Just throw it away! Arg! ....bye."

Letter.....a fucking letter! Piss me off, mother fucker and your mother fucking letter! HO CHI MIN!!! I will of course keep you posted when it comes.