Five Years Later, and He’s The Candy Man

“I consider myself a man of the world,” he said.

That’s who he is.  You might also remember I have also described him as my Harry… Referring to the character from Sex and the City.  And he is, without question, The Candy Man.

We’ve been revolving around each other for something like 5 years now.  It was bumpy at first.  Then difficult in the middle.  We split up when he came to this realization that he wants kids.  He wants them so much and in the conventional fashion.  The traditional experience… which I found difficult for many reasons.

First, there is nothing traditional or conventional about this man, and second… I can’t give him that.  I had some issues years ago, and had to have a hysterectomy.  I can not carry a child.

So, off we went in our separate directions, then bounced back together, then apart, then he gets promoted, and he’s back in my air space again working out of the same office.

The only problem is, The Candy Man is married.  Now, he’s married, to someone else.

You see, during one of our bounce backs, I happened to be in the neighborhood where he was buying a piece of land to build a house on.  I thought I’d go take a look.  Gorgeous, absolutely breathtaking place and piece of land…  and as I drove through, I saw his truck and his dog.

So, of course I stopped.  I waited with his dog Ramone, looking around, no people in sight.  So I text him, “hey, I was driving through and saw your truck.  I’m over here with Ramone.”

I expected him to come walking out of the treeline any minute, but instead…  I saw her.  Lucky for me, I was all put together and looking BAM!  I had some idea of who she might be as I saw her coming towards me with Brock (his other dog) at her side.

The Candy Man often has family from all over the world staying with him.  They travel in from Eastern Europe pretty much every year and some how make their way down to his little rental place on the mountain.

I introduced myself.  She spoke very smooth english.  She was the friend and traveling companion of his young cousin.  Dressed in joggers and an oversized t-shirt advertising some type of brew fest.  Hair pulled back and sunglasses on.

As I sized her up and we talked, well, mostly she talked.  It became clear to me that she was staking her claim.  I let her roll with it, telling me they were fostering a dog and they had planted a tree…  blah, blah, blah.

See, despite our bounce back, I was fully aware that The Candy Man still wanted children and his traditional experience.  Next time I saw him, I laid it all out.  He said she’d mentioned it, in my opinion, knowing she had attempted to mislead me, she tried to explain it away.  He didn’t understand what the big deal was.  She complained that her english wasn’t so great or that I wasn’t speaking clearly.  (Try again honey, that’s what i do for a living).

I finally told him, “I may not understand Russian, but I understand “woman” and she clearly has designs on you.   There’s something there, at least on her end.”

He looked at me with surprise.  Oblivious to whatever she may have been trying to do.  “Maybe you should talk to her,” I said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.  We talked about her.  How old is she?  Is she educated?  Can you have an intelligent conversation with her?  She seems pretty enough and trim enough.

“You think she’s pretty?” he asked.  I said “I don’t know” with a shrug, “pretty enough.”

Six weeks later, he married her.  I found out like 6 months later.

Now, it’s been two years.  No babies, and it turns out, it’s not working out.  They’re very different people.  She’s a vegan, a runner and obsessive health nut and he’s well… He’s not.

We’ve been sharing time again for a while now.  Here’s the rub.  She’s not a US Citizen.  Yet.  A couple more years before that can happen.  They’ve discussed their predicament.  Their situation.  No romance.  No passion but they are good friends.

She has a green card but 3 more years before she can apply for citizenship.  And The Candy Man, he’s going to do what he thinks is right, whatever the consequences.  He believes she came here with the best of intentions, and he doesn’t want to do wrong by her.  He knows what it’s like in Eastern Europe.  He knows how many more opportunities she will have here.

As for me, I think she’s a sneaky manipulative woman.  I don’t think they were ever on the same page.  I think they both had their agendas coming in to this, but at least she’s kind to him.

In his words “Cadence, I love you.  You’re the love of my life and I left you because I thought she could give me something you couldn’t…  but it turns out it doesn’t even matter if you’re not with the person you want to be with.”  I was absolutely struck dumb trying to absorb that.

There’s no one like him.  41 years old.  I have known many people from all over the world.  All different types of men, and there is no one like him.   I’m not going anywhere…  There’s no where else I’d rather be.

Three years?  I’ve got kids to get through school and off to college in that time.  Moving to a new level after that would be so natural…

It does make me ache not to be able to be more of a part of his life here and now, but who knows what might happen?  She could change her mind and go back.  She could meet someone else.  The possibilities are endless.  As far as the here and now goes… I’m in.

Date #3 and then some, featuring The Man of the World

We’re dog people.  I mean like, dogs sleep in the bed with us.  Dogs on the furniture, dogs on vacation, thousands in vet bills, baby talk and baby pictures of our dogs kind of dog people.

I haven’t always been a dog person.  For me, it started with a tiny baby chihuahua dachshund (chiweenie) mix  I named John Dillinger.

I was working in dispatch when the Officers brought in a man under arrest and his car to be searched.  They were startled when the clothing and other items in the trunk seemed to start moving on their own.  They reluctantly reached in and uncovered a tiny white chihuahua and her little red haired companion chiweenie.

We boarded the dogs at our county facility but when the man was released from jail, he left the dogs behind and I got my Dilley.  He was so tiny and fragile.  He loved to burrow under the covers.  The kids carried him around like a baby.  He was our baby.

He was a second dog in our family, but see, my other dog, Wiggles, was quite different.  Like an old soul.  She was some kind of terrier mix.  Maybe smooth fox terrier.  Even the way she walked looked and sounded like she was walking around in heels.  She hated to be picked up.  She’d clench all her muscles so her legs were stick straight if you tried to carry her.  She would come to you to comfort an aching soul, but she wasn’t much of a cuddler otherwise.  No desire to sleep on the bed, until Dilley came along.

He changed us all, especially Wiggles.  She lit up with the energy of a puppy, but she mothered him as well.  She followed his sweet snuggly ways and taught him her independence.   Unfortunately, at the end of my shared time with The Ambassador of Ambiguity, I lost my sweet Wiggles.

So, during this time I was attempting to train a wild little pup I named Zoey.  She’s was a bigger dog than we were used to.  She was half walker hound, and half cattle dog.  Mass amounts of energy exuded from her at all times.

The Man had two pretty large male dogs.  Brock, some type of husky mix, and Ramone.  I can never remember what sort of mix of dog Ramone was but he was a lover.  And as much as Ramone was a charmer, Brock was stoic.

The man had all these crazy stories about Brock.  He’d been bit by a rattlesnake, fought with racoons, even jumped out the car window, while it was moving, to chase chickens.

It was hard to reconcile that when I met him.  He was so mellow and stoic… until you turned your back, I would later learn.

The man and I met at a park and walked a 1 mile path around a small reservoir.  The dogs were great.  Well, his dogs were great.  Even came off the leash a few times.  He helped me feel more comfortable giving Zoey some room too.  Zoey was wild.

At one point, we encountered some kids on the path and thank goodness she was on the leash because she had reared up to jump on the kid, and I had a hold of her.  She was so big, she was staring at the kid (tongue hanging out, happy as can be) like two inches from his face.

Another time when she was off leash, she took off running towards a kid near the playground.  I could just envision that kid getting trucked over in her attempt to play.  I screamed out a panicked “Zoey STOP!!!” and to my absolute shock, she actually stopped.   Oh my God, no more off the leash today.

The man and I were chatting and watching the geese.  He left his boys off the leashes, wondering if they might chase the geese.  (That’d be a damn mistake, those geese are mean as hell).  As we talked, we stopped paying attention to the dogs for like 10 seconds, when The Man suddenly took off running at top speed, with his hands sort of over his head and waving.  “Brock!!!”

I looked toward the water, and there was Brock — all in.  Swimming even, and with the tail feathers of a duck in his maw.  The Man hauled him out of there, the duck no doubt traumatized but otherwise unhurt.   We headed for the trucks.  I couldn’t stop smiling.  Thank God my dog wasn’t the only wild one in the bunch.  I sat on the tailgate as we packed up the dogs to go.  I could do this every single day for the rest of forever.

I grabbed his white t-shirt and pulled him toward me.  I wrapped my legs loosely around him and kissed him until he had to pull away.  We were in public, after all…

From then on, we were together.  We had our issues, like any adults with full lives and careers and pasts have but he was it for me.  I was happy.

 

The Candy Man has left the building…

Change is upon us.  My nieces and nephews have moved from next door.  That leaves me a little sad, watching them pack their pick up truck load after load.  On to the next chapter.

At work, to our great relief, we did not get Captain Asshole.  Instead Captain Good Guy, at least that’s what they say about him.  Whew.  It’s not so bad.  It’s certainly no raging disaster.  My favorite supervisor isn’t going anywhere.  However, today…  The Candy Man left.

I have some hovering sadness about that.  He’s transferred to an office about maybe 40 miles away.  It’s not far, but it will certainly rob us of the 10 minutes here or there when we can vibe and talk.

The Candy Man is someone I dated years ago, for a fairly significant amount of time.  A few years, but it was kind of all screwed up.  My anxiety was high and I wasn’t communicating well or letting him in to my world completely.  He wasn’t communicating or letting me in all the way either.

The Candy Man was significant though, because he’s the first and only cop I’ve dated since I split with my ex 12 years ago.  He’s a hippie soul, in a blue uniform.  He’s also never married, no kids… and he wants kids.  That something we talked about right from the start, and at some point he decided he wanted that traditional experience with a woman who can carry children and all.  He said he wished it was me, but it wasn’t.

We split and in a pretty short amount of time, he married a woman who is a friend of his cousin.  It’s been a couple years now.  No kids yet, and I am still in love with him.

Several of my friends are telling me, it’s good.  This is going to make room in your life for the one you’ve been waiting for.

It will make it easier to get over him.  But I don’t want to get over it.

There’s more to this story.

Date #2 — with The Man Of The World aka: “The Man”

 

I figured bowling would be good for a second date.  I’m not much of a sports fan, but I figure if you can do it when you’re fat and drunk, how much of a sport can it really be, huh?

It’s not like The Man was any shining example of health and fitness either.  He’s maybe like 5’6″, smooth bald head, kinda soft, with vibrant blue eyes.  If you ever followed Sex and The City, he’s Harry.  He’s built just like Harry, and also wonderful and caring and smart just like that character….  Only eastern European instead of Jewish.

I don’t feel reluctant like Charlotte did when she first met him.  I recognized the gem he was right away.  Truth be told, if I could have picked any of the men in that series, I’d have picked Harry every time.  Every single time, and twice on Sunday.

So, we go bowling and we’re vibing and I can only hope it keeps going well.  I’m, of course, an clumsy and terrible bowler.  This always tells me a little something about my date.

I went bowling once with Captain Amazing and that was a bit of a disaster.  He was openly dismayed at how terrible I was at it, and the fact that I didn’t give a rip.  It makes me laugh to think about it now.  He was a college basketball star and his family was quite athletic.  In fact, the wall of that bowling alley even had some of his family members painted on it.

The man was also a college athlete, soccer, but he didn’t care about my lack of athletic ability at all.   We spent most of our time sitting at the tiny 2 person table eating bad snack shack food and talking.  We barely caught the snack place before they closed, in fact they had to make special arrangements to put together the one thing he wanted.  A hot dog.  The man loves a good hot dog.  In fact, I later found that his mother was just the same.  What an endearing little detail.  So, the snack shack made him a fried hot dog.

We laughed and joked.  I told him I could hear his arteries closing up as he ate that fried hot dog.  We talked backgrounds this time.  My previous marriage, children.  He told me of severe car accident he’d been in, and the brainless model he met while recovering.  He damn near married her.  Dodged a bullet on that.  For many reasons, but the one that always stands out for me is that she was a huge fan of The Kardashians.  So, The man would get home from work, and all she wanted to do was tell him everything about what the damn Kardashians are doing.

The man is highly educated with several degrees, an advanced degree in psychology.  He’s been all over the world.  He’s stood on the Great Wall of China, twice.  He doesn’t give two shits about the fucking Kardashians.  A lifetime with a woman like that may have been a special kind of hell for a well traveled intellectual.

Still she was kind to him when he was recovering from a traumatic and very serious crash, and maybe that was her purpose in his journey.  She loved him, and when he really needed it.

I watched him consider my words as I spoke that to him.

We left and walked out in to the night.  Headed home.  I remember standing outside, lights from inside shining.  My beloved children inside.

He asked directions back to the freeway, which I awkwardly attempted to give.  As we sort of danced around each other, we ended up on the corner of my property, under the dim street light.  “Come here,” he said, wrapped me up in his strong arms and kissed me for the first time.

 

Bonkers at the Ball Park

My son is a baseballer.  He has been for 9 years now.  He started out t-ball when he was five years old and fell in love with the game.  He plays nearly year round.  His main position is catcher, but he can pitch and kill at second base just as well.

His father and I have been split since he was just two years old.  For what seemed like forever, we were the only divorced parents in whatever sphere we stood.  Only divorced parents at kindergarten, only divorced parents on the baseball team….  It’s a tiny conservative town and we were certainly a kind of outcast.

However, over the years, the numbers have grown and for whatever reason, there seems to be quite the surge right now.  If I thought it was uncomfortable being the only divorced parents, I wouldn’t even know what to call this shit show.  I was all the ball park the other day and there were at least FIVE couples, that I know, who are split.  Some remarried, some not, ALL trying to do this ridiculous co-parenting shit.

So, I am sitting in the bleachers with the newly weds that have conveniently had BRIGHT RED shirts printed with their last name on the back.  It’s all very subtle and passive aggressive mind you.  It makes a pretty picture for his ex wife sitting near the top of the bleachers to watch them strut around in.  Especially the blonder, thinner new wife.

Just last year that guy was having screaming matches at the ball park with his kid and now ex wife.  But he’s all over it now, I guess, and married off to one of the mean girls of the grown “popular crowd”.    That’s plenty of time to get over a 10 year marriage right?

Oh, and I especially love how everyone thought him an asshole when their arguing got so aggressive someone called the cops, and when he was being a prick to the kids he was coaching but now since he’s married to miss popular mean girl… apparently he’s not an asshole anymore.  Magical how that works, isn’t it?

Then there is the wife beater, also sitting near the top of the bleachers, while his ex wife sits surrounded by her girlfriends whispering and trying to avoid his menacing gaze.

There is the wife that left for another man.  She sits alone.  The relationship with the other man rising and crashing like waves… on again off again.  She tries not to watch, while her ex playfully wrestles with his new blonder thinner fiance in a sugar sweet way that makes me want to puke.  People around them make stupid jokes “are we going to have to separate you two?  teee hee hee.”  Barf.  None of the 3 of them are even divorced yet.

There’s the empty space where the pitcher’s dad used to be, when he wasn’t coaching.  He was a fantastic coach too but his ex is Queen Bitch of the mean girl crowd and she and her new husband ran him off long ago.  After dealing with their constant bitching, hassling, stalking and haranguing, he’s finally just resigned to stay away.  The Queen Bitch is quite satisfied as now they can add his absence to their list of bitch moans and complaints about what a terrible person he is.

Of course, my ex is in the dug out while his second, blonder thinner wife sits next to her mother.  His mother sits alone.

Now, I sat for a while next to gal who divorced the wife beater.  She’s been a friend of mine for many years.  The woman sitting alone quickly joined us and did their best to find a location in the bleachers that was more than 3 ft away from all our exs.  Damn impossible… so instead they whisper their little secrets that I am not privy to.

This makes me uncomfortable and I think for a second that I want to be part of the crowd, but them I hear a bit of what they are saying and change my mind.  Now I see the dude with the playful fiance giving me the side eye, because he works at my work and I am sitting grouped with his soon to be ex wife.  **sigh**

Finally, I get up and stomp down the bleachers to plant myself next to my ex mother in law.  That’s how fucking uncomfortable it was!  I’d rather spend two hours keeping company with my ex mother in law than be in that soup of dysfunction they call the bleachers.

And I wonder just how much do the kids know?  Do they realize how difficult this is?  Though children may seem oblivious, the truth is they are excellent observers, bad interpreters.  So, I’m sure they can probably tell that something is going on but have no idea what and I doubt anyone is talking about it either.

Finally the game wraps up and just as I’m leaving, I see the dude with the brainless playful fiance talking to another dude and gesture towards the girl who divorced the wife beater and say her name… like… hey, how about her.  The guy looks her way and kinda shrugs.

Ugh, just when I thought this couldn’t get any more uncomfortable.  I couldn’t tell if that was a suggestion, like she’s nice and she’s available or some kind of grown ass man tossing out a bit of bullying for sport.  Like… haha, ya right, she’s definitely not blond enough or thin enough to catch my attention.

I think I’m going to be sick…. Heeeeyy this was great, lets do it all again next weekend.  Just kidding.  Thank God, it’s the end of the season.  I hope that never happens again.

 

Is This The Man I’ve Been Waiting For??

I had planned the date about an hour and a half or so before I had to be at work.  So, I knew it would just be coffee and I’d have a legit reason to say goodbye.  No awkwardness and maybe we should go somewhere else, what are you doing tonight extensions.  I have learned from that twisted road.  It doesn’t work.  I’ve got to keep my foot riding the break at the first.  For whatever reason, it draws men in.  It lets them know you’re not one to be trifled with, but respected and pursued.  Taken seriously.  NOT treated like a simple fling.

I was thinking about this as I pulled in to the Starbucks parking lot and exited my car.

He sat in his truck, hovering at the end of the parking lot and watched me arrive.  Beautifully put together and oblivious to his watchful eyes.

After I stepped inside, I turned to see him come through the door.  Thankfully I recognized him.  I wasn’t sure I would.  I’d only seen him the one time, and he was in uniform.  BUT, as I suspected, the shiny roundness of his smooth bald head reminded me.

We got a couple drinks and sat down.  We could really vibe together.  We easily moved from small talk to a slightly more intimate coffee talk level.  He talked about growing up in eastern Europe and migrating to the US.  He spoke of his father and told a salacious story about him having fallen in love with a Brazilian waitress who was just 35.  It was the spoils of a daring adventure sneaking in to the country.  His father seems a brilliant but sort of hapless man, forever getting himself into mischief, making bad choices and having his two sons bail him out.

He told me his Dad wanted to go on a cruise, and there was no way he was doing that.  Not the way he likes to travel.  I tossed my head back and laughed.  “I’ll go on a cruise with your Dad.”

He smiled looking right in to my eyes and replied “He’d probably take you too.”

He had traveled all around the world.  Stood on the great wall of China twice.  His favorite place in the world is Thailand.  He didn’t say why.  He’s a traveler, like I’m a writer, like my friend The Painter is, well a painter.  It’s who we are.  It’s a drive, a compulsion, a need.

He’s got a bucket list of places to go and things to see, like The Running of The Bulls in Pamplona, and see the Tour de’ France.  Both of which he would have had checked off by now except, at his last office, by the time vacation sign ups got to him those dates were all taken.  However, that wouldn’t be a problem here.

Along with the stories, we talked a little politics.  He’s highly educated.  Masters degree in psychology, bachelors in philosophy and video production.  He keeps up will current events and is well read.  He’s also the best marksman of all the officers in the area.  He’s a renaissance man, really.  “I like to think of myself as a man of the world” he said.

I nearly fell off my chair when he told me he’d read Nicholas Sparks.  I didn’t expect he’d even know who that was, since he writes nearly all romance but Sparks did write at least one nonfiction book that really spoke to him, this man of the world.  It was Three Weeks with my Brother.  About he and his brother going on a trip around the world.

I told him about the blog, which always seems to make my dates a bit nervous, but I also paint and draw.  That intrigued him.  Fascinated him, even.

We both have several dogs and love animals completely.  In fact, we talked about one of our dates bringing the dogs to the park together.

I felt happy, wonderfully confident.  Loved what I was wearing and how I looked that day, and I looked at him, at the curves of his face and I thought… Is this the man I’ve been waiting for?

It certainly could be…  and we made a plan for date #2.

 

 

 

Like a Boss and Sheer Panic

 

 

The phone is ringing!!!!!!!  I’m absolutely in a full on panic.  I know who it is.  I said they could give him my number and they told me he’d be calling, and now he is!  I did not anticipate feeling this way.  I’m nauseated, sweating and my heart is trying to leap out of my throat.  Oh my God.

Now, it’s been a long time since I’d been on a date or any dating site or even talked to anyone about dating.  I mean, I’d had an ongoing affair with Mr. Married but he got deployed and we stopped and it had been months since even that.  Still, did it warrant this kind of freak out??  I mean, come on…   What is wrong with me??

The phone stopped ringing…  *exhale*  I sit on the bed and feel a little sad.  Hmmm.  No voicemail, and I don’t expect him to send me a text message.  He’s calling, like a boss, like a good man should.

It’s ringing again.  Oh shit.  Now what?  I can not answer it.  I can’t answer it.  This is real.  It’s a real relationship potential.  From what I can tell so far, he’s a smart, interesting, funny, SINGLE.  This thing with this Man of The World could actually be something.

I always knew Mr. Married wouldn’t become anything.  I mean, I had my little fantasies but I knew the man loved his wife.  He talked about it right from the start.  He loved his wife but things were rocky and she’s fairly asexual and not affectionate.  Not comfortable with him even touching her, and he feels… low.  He needed attention and admiration and laughter and affection.  I needed to be brought back to life after being broke by The Ambassador of Ambiguity and a season of abstinence and aloneness.  We both gave each other things the soul needs.

But I knew I was safe.  I knew he really had no expectations of me.  I never even had to worry about him even sleeping over and being bothered by my snoring.  But THIS… this was different.  I could feel it.  I have been on many first dates that didn’t pan out but that’s not what I was staring at now.

The phone stopped ringing again.  I snatched it up and called my friend The Painter.  The Painter can be logical, knows my quirks… in fact, knows me very well.  We had been shift partners for years.

She talked me down.  She calmed me down and reminded me… It’s just a phone call.  Right now, that’s all it is.   One step at a time.

To my delight, he called a third time.  I answered and we made a coffee date.  Not long after that, we sat across from each other at a small table in Starbucks.  Me with my hair flowing curled down around my shoulders, in my bohemian threads and sandals.  Him with his sparkling blue eyes, jeans and plain white tee.  We laughed and told stories.  He was magic and intrigue and not messin’ around.  We talked about relationships and being partners, and whether or not I could have children (which I can not), and adoption.

Man of the World is never married, and has no kids.  Somehow, I meet and date a lot of men in that category.

Winds of Change like a Hurricane

So many things are changing in my life right now, and many more up in the air.

In my personal life, my EX sister and brother in law have been living next door to me for the last few years.  I was super nervous about this at first, but it’s proven to be such a blessing.  I’ve had the chance to spend time with my nieces and nephews that I wouldn’t have otherwise had.  Even though, they are blood relatives of my EX, they are the only nieces and nephews I got to spend time with as babies.  Then they moved away and now I’ve gotten to know them as teens and older.  I’ve got to chat with them, share meals, share hand me downs, and even drive them to school now and then.  And my kids got to know their cousins after again.  Now, we’ll probably never see them.

Mr. Married is moving.   I’ve mentioned this before, but brace yourself because the hits just keep on coming.  He’s been so many things to me.  I said good bye to him this week with many tears and a few kisses.  He’s been the one to let the light in so many times in my life… Now he’ll be living over 300 miles away.   He swears he’ll drop in and see me, but best laid plans, you know?

Also, my children are growing so fast.  They’re 16 and almost 14 now.  My focus has shifted.  I have become acutely aware of just how little time I have left with them until they launch in to the world, off to college and so on.  My son being so independent, I see less and less of him even now at 14.  He’s an exceptional athlete and plays baseball competitively and on travel teams nearly year round.  He’s a driven young man, and I’m sure once he gets some wheels under him, I may never see him.  I’m sure he’ll somehow find time to work a job as well.

So, I’m working to try to plan memorable trips around all the other things.  Not huge trips, just weekend jaunts during the summer.  I try to keep my life simple, like my budget.

I’ve also started making plans to work up the house for sale in a few years.  I’ll have my daughter her another three with high school and prerequisites at the local junior college before she heads off to a larger college out of town.

I plan to use the equity in the house to help them get through.  No one does it alone, and I’m fully aware that college has gotten more expensive, while there seems to be less available money given away for education.  I’d like to help my kids avoid astronomical school loans following them for years to come.

I’ll do what I can to help.  I don’t have a lot of money and never started any college funds for them or anything.

At work, holy smokes, I can not even begin to explain what fresh hell could befall us.  Our Captain is leaving.  He runs the entire office and call center.  He is wonderful and all heart.  We love this guy.  He put one of our girls up in a hotel for a couple nights on his own dime because her heater broke and she had to wait for a part before it could get fixed.  She had her little space heaters, but nope.  He insisted and even booked it FIRST so she couldn’t refuse his kindness.

In exchange Captain Kindness we may get Lt. Because I Said So.  Apparently this guy is notorious for making command decisions with no apparent logic, reason or consideration to the employees.  Greaaaat.

And if Lieutenant Asshole does come here we might lose the greatest supervisor in the history of forever.  The woman is absolutely without question, the best leader I have encounter since leaving the Marines.  She’s a great buffer between the dispatchers and upper management.  She’s fiercely loyal and protective, and she doesn’t take any shit… from anyone.

Luckily, there are three Lieutenants that have thrown their hats in the ring.  So hopefully we get someone good… but we really don’t know what we’ll get.

We have a bitch of an ex-friend with her transfer papers in trying to get here and “straighten us all out” and change our schedule to a rotating schedule.  No thank you.  The bitch ex-friend is also on the promotion list, so if the greatest supervisor in the history of forever leaves, we could get her.  But again, she’s not the only one on the list.

One of our friendliest and most wonderful co-workers is also on the list to promote to Supervisor, so if there is an opening, she could potentially get it, or if there isn’t, she may move away.  We will lose her sunshine and rainbows and gain the bitch ex-friend.

We are also losing one of the Sergeants here at the office.  The one everyone loves, of course, so much so that in an attempt to insult him Sgt. Jackass said “what are you, the fucking candy man?”  And from that day forward, that’s what everyone has affectionately called him.   We’re definitely losing that sunshine.   I’m so disappointed.  He’s my closest friend and ally at work.  Also, I’m pretty madly in love with him.

I’m seriously feeling like I’m on shaky ground here.  I mean, everything could come up beautiful and wonderful and better than it ever was before.  But everything could also go utterly & terribly wrong.

What is there to do, but do my best to remain positive and pray…

 

 

Meeting a Man of the World

Years ago as I sat in dispatch, minding my own business… In walks, The Man of The World.  He’s about 5’4″, stocky, stout, and shiny bald.  He had an intriguing accent that no one could quite pin down, and was quite charming and very funny.  Also, he had traveled all over the world.

He had made his way to working at a nearby office, to get away from the city, I suppose.  We get that a lot.  We also get a gaggle of dispatchers blushing and giggling like 13 year old girls whenever any remotely attractive man comes in to our lair.  So giggle and blush they did.  They talked and talked.  They’d talk to him as long as he would let them.

I leaned back in my chair and observed, twirling a strand of hair in boredom.  I have long since given up trying to compete with these harpies.  (Ya know, mischievous female creatures from Greek mythology.  Great metaphor for dispatcher, trust me.)

I’m also not aggressive when interacting with men.  I have been down many dating roads, and I find it best to let a man decide what it is he likes and move in that direction.  Here’s my theory, sometimes men can be with women, like they are with food.  In my experience, if a man is going to go out and shop for it, and cook it for themselves, they’ll get something they totally like.  But if you cook it and put it in front of them, they will eat just about anything.  So, I watch.

It turns out, he was actively trying to get these girls to set him up with someone.  Doesn’t anyone have any single friends?  Now that was unique.

Even though I work with a good number of men, police officers, they are pretty much *always* married and they are certainly not up in dispatch trying to get set up.

He’s looking for someone single, not taller than him or older than him.  He was maybe 40 at the time.  I look at him suspiciously.  I am both of those things, but if he wanted my number, I figured he’d ask for it.

So, I engage and give him the name and number of a woman I know who says she “would love to meet a nice man.”  I don’t really know her, or particularly like her that much, so I don’t even really bother to try to find out what kind of man he actually is.

Later, he offers me the number of a friend of his (not local, many hundreds of miles away) as a sort of trade.  We chat about it, but I decline the number but agree to let him tell his friend about me.  What an odd interaction, I think.

Neither situation worked out.  He never met the woman I told him about.  In fact, it turned out she was actually taller and older than him.  I swear, I did not know that in advance.  And he never said a word to his friend about me.  Instead, he called one of the other girls and asked her what my story was.  My girlfriend did right by me and told him I was a gem but I had been through a lot and needed to be loved right.  He asked for my number.

Not long after that, we’re sitting at Starbucks, laughing and talking —  The romance had begun.  Sparks!  Instant chemistry!  Finally something real.

The Nightmare that is CO-PARENTING

 

Whoever it was that thought up this modern co-parenting strategy, I’d like to throat punch ’em.  It’s real popular out here in California, where a large part of the state seems to have completely departed from reality.

It seems that apparently some people can make it work and I always see stupid bullshit stories and memes about how it’s supposed to work but I’m sorry that’s not real life.

I divorced the man because I could not live with him one more minute.  I had tried everything, and he would make NO effort what so ever to improve our relationship.  He was emotionally abusive and my soul was dying.

So, I risk it all, and manage to get away from him.   I have to live in some shit  hole apartment and go on fucking foodstamps because he refused to pay a dime until the judge made him…  But it was all worth it because I had gotten away.  I could finally breath again.

However, since then I have learned that even though I divorced the man, I have to keep fighting with him for the next 15 damn years.  Look people, if we could get along well enough to collaborate on something as important as parenting, I wouldn’t have divorced him in the first damn place!

It has in fact gone so miserably wrong that we simply don’t co-parent anymore.  What we do can better be described as parallel parenting and yet….  It is still misery.

Now maybe it can work for you, dear reader, and I hope it does, but as for me…  I married a bully with some kind of fucking personality disorder that’s only gotten worse over the years.

We’ve been divorced 12 years now.  12 years!  And the man hates me more now than he did when I left him.  He hates me with the fire of a thousand suns.  He still drives by my house on the regular, withholds information, talks shit about me in front of and directly to my son.  This recently has gotten worse as he has sustained some type of severe narcissistic injury because my daughter decided to live with me full time.

The intensity is also bumped up the last few years because he remarried to the female version of himself.  They’re like an ex insulting, uncooperative, bully two person wrecking squad.  It’s not just me either, her ex rarely comes around these days even though for years he coached baseball and rarely missed a game.  I’m sure the two of them have probably chased him away with the same tactics.

So now, I am doing my best to pick up the pieces when my son comes home to me.  Let him know that his sister and I love him with all our hearts… try and counter whatever poison was put in his ears, without knowing just what that poison was.

I am trying like hell to teach him to be respectful, because hearing all those derogatory things affects his behavior and attitude and tone, even when he is trying so hard to get along.   I have to continue reminding him to be kind because even though he knows this and I’ve pressed that to both of the children for their whole lives, but that’s not what he sees at the other parents house.

I don’t know what else to do.  I have done all I can think of to try and work with him.  I even let him off the hook with the child support.  I’ve done absolutely everything I can afford to do at this point, and still nothing but torment.

So, if you’re the brainless asshole who thought up this whole co-parenting bullshit, I owe you a swift kick in the junk.

Of course, children need both parents, and I will admit I don’t know what the answer is, but I know it’s *not* co-parenting.