A Tale of An Ex

Background:

I dated this guy Phil for about 2 months. Molly and Phil were friends in high school and I guess he helped her through some stuff. Phil has a white night complex: whenever anyone asked for his help, he couldn't refuse. So after three years of not talking, Molly calls Phil and Phil runs to her rescue. Molly needed a place to stay and Phil had her move into his room.

After what seemed like a lifetime of dealing with Phil's psychosis, pessimistic attitude, and love of Molly, I broke up with Phil..at a crowded bar, with all of our friends around.

I figured after the public humiliation that was our breakup Phil would leave me the fuck alone. And he did. Until the new year.

Copied exactly as was written is our correspondence. Some names and e-mail addresses have been changed to protect "Phil" and others that have been named.

from Phil reply-to xxxxxx@yahoo.com to xxxxxxxxxx.xxxxx@gmail.com date Wed, Dec 31, 2008 at 6:50 AM subject Biting the bullet mailed-by yahoo.com signed-by yahoo.com

Alright Anna,

I hope that you still use this e-mail.

My cellphone broke a long time ago. And with it was all the numbers I had. Including yours.

I'm sure you're not expecting to me to write you. It's been a long time since I got in touch with you, but honestly- it's been a long time since I've got a hold of anyone.

Plus- I seriously felt really bad after you getting me that job, and then me blowing it off the way I did...that I kind of sort of have been avoiding you.

In April- "Vinny" and I started trying to meet all new types of people in order to make business contacts to try to get something started. We did in fact meet a lot of people- and a lot of offers were passed back and forth...but we found our self in the world of empty promises. Nothing seemed to work out. Cause people suck.

But then we met someone named "Michael", who we got to know really well. To make a long story short- he was working on a big deal and was interested in cutting us in. We decided to get in after him telling us we could make $500,000 dollars in the next couple of months.

Well- we were seriously suspicious of this deal between "Vinny" and I, but we grew more confident that it was legit on the basis that he showed us his place...gave us his personal phone number- and we stayed in touch. We're still in touch with him now.

However- nothing had seemed to be fruitful. He claims that he made a bunch of profit, but has been unable to get access to it since it is in a highly secured off shore account blah blah blah. We think he actually got scammed..but that's besides the point.

The reason why I'm telling you all of this is because of this- It was my intention that the second we actually struck gold...that I was going to hook you up with $10,000 dollars.

I was going to give you that money because of the following reasons (in no particular order)-

1.) Because I feel bad about shafting you like I did with the job, and I wanted to make it up to you 1000 fold. Literally.

2.) Because the deal above would've never even happened if I didn't get the support that you gave me when you did. And most of all the attention you gave me- without asking much in return.

3.) Because a little part of me (just a little) wanted to rub it in your face. I apologize, but I am semi-vindictive. I hope you can understand that I'm trying to be totally honest here.

4.) Because I know that you are a good person, and deserve some kind of credit for it.

5.) Because I really, really wanted to look cool- because I got off on impressing you for some reason. It's probably because no one really gave so much attention like you did...and I liked it.


Well, I don't have the money. And a new year is about to start. I don't think this deal is going to happen.

So I don't think my plan to be Mr. Cool is going to work. Smooth has never been a forte of mine, but it would've been so cool if it played out like I wanted it to.

So with that being said- I have to work outside the original plan.

Reality is, is that as much as you drove me nuts and pissed me the Hell off with your happy-funtime-butterflies-and-

rainbows-the-world-is-such-a-bright-place-party-on-but-be-Miss-Responsibility personality......it really helped me.

It never really made me feel better. I never agreed with it. But it always made me think. It challenged me, and made me want to prove who I am. It made me want to prove you wrong. It made me re-evaulate and remind me of my own motives. It was like you throwing a puzzle out, and I had to solve it. It made me want to do something, period.

So I want to know what I have to do to become your friend again, and bury the hatchet.

I know I have been deliberately avoiding you, but it wasn't because I didn't really want to hang out. More because of the plan I had above. Plus you really like to get out and party- and do all that kind of stuff...and as hard I tried to pretend that it didn't bother me: I couldn't deal with all the people. Because most people too me are usually not very amusing and waste my time...especially when they're intoxicated (I know that's cruel for me to say, but honestly I get really annoyed with people very easily. I'm not a people person). That and because I have a minor social anxiety complex. But I did everything I could to hide it from you. If you try to remember though, you will see what I mean. You'll see all the pieces of the puzzle, and understand now why I did a lot of things that I did after telling you this.

And I know that alcohol makes me hella angry and depressed. Very Depressed.

So it seems on that basis I'm not a fan of doing a lot of things that you like to do.

But I would like to just hang out once and play video games. Or maybe just shoot the shit.

Just so long as it doesn't involve other people. Because honestly- save for "Jimmy": I didn't like any of your friends. No offense. Please don't hate me for saying that...but I want to throw everything on the table. To prove that I'm being honest. If it's any constellation- I don't like any of my friends either. But I can deal with them.

Anna, I know I'm a asshole. And I'm sorry. But I can't help it.

I don't want another year like this one, so I'm trying to avoid that from happening.

So tell me what I need to do to make up for all the things I did. Because I want to.

-Phil

PS- I've been up all night, and I am too tired to spell check this for errors. And my grammar may be off. But I don't really care at this point. I don't have to prove my skills of the English language to anyone.

But if anything is incomprehensible. Think of something nice or something you wanted to hear from me- and run with it.

This was Phil's way of apologizing to me. By insulting my way of life, my friends, and the way I spend my time, he thought he was biting the bullet and being the first to say sorry. I thought that maybe, just maybe, it was because he had been up all night and that this e-mail was sent at six am this was why his words were coming off a bit asshole-y.

So I replied with this:

from Anna to xxxxxx@yahoo.com date Wed, Dec 31, 2008 at 1:02 PM subject Re: Biting the bullet mailed-by gmail.com

Phil,

I am surprised to hear from you but it was not all that out of place. About three days ago I sent you an invite for my new years party, I thought you might have been responding to that text message. Now that I know that your phone is broken I know that you didn't get that text message, or any of my texts for that matter.

As you so elegantly put it, with my "happy-funtime-butterflies-and-rainbows-the-world-is-such-a-bright-place-party-on-but-be-Miss-Responsibility" personality I never really counted you out as a friend. I have been texting you and even the occasional attempt to call, and every time I talk to "Bobby" I do ask about you. After not hearing back from you I thought you might have been avoiding me but not for the same reasons that you said. And even though a relationship with you didn't work out for the best, I do still want to make sure that you are doing well.

I am sorry to hear that you have been getting fucked over with your business ventures, I know you and "Vinny" were working very hard to get the ball rolling. But, at the risk of using a horrible metaphor - you've got to pan a lot of dirt before you find any gold. You have the business mind and the drive to get something done I just don't think you have found the right thing for you to do yet. "Bobby" said that you were in school, I hope that is going well for you. Bobby seemed really excited for you, and honestly when he said that I was proud you were doing something with yourself.

Believe me when I say that I do not hate you for saying some blunt things to me in your e-mail, I appreciate your honesty. I've always appreciated that in you, you are not the person to shy away from saying that which is not easily said. and I don't hate you for wanting to rub something in my face a bit, hell, nothing is done with out some sort of personal gain. I would like you to know, however, that if you had offered it to me I would have declined, not to be a bitch but I would not feel comfortable taking that kind of money from anyone. Though, the thought is truly flattering.

Being that you don't really get along with my friends and don't like to party I would be shocked if I saw you tonight but just in case you feel like going a little wild this year my invite still stands - tonight between 8 and 9 at my new place (ADDRESS WITHHELD) I am having a party for the new year. If you decide to come feel free to crash at my place, I have a feeling the roads will be bad.

~Anna

PS. I didn't spell check this at all, I don't have to prove my skills of the English language to anyone either.

I thought I would do the honorable thing and try to keep things between us in a good light. I am friends with his brother and we do share a lot of common friends still. I didn't want him being as asshole to drag me down too. Plus, I knew it would kill him to think that I didn't harbor ill feelings toward him.

Phil Responded:

Anna,

My number is still good. My phone has been dead for some time now as I have been at my parents house.

My brother is excited for me? Of course he is. I bet he's getting off on it.

The school was his idea. He started before me.

Money has been kind of tight. And there doesn't seem to be any more dispatching jobs out there that I can pull until I can get things to take off.

Bobby and the rest of my family was slamming me. Telling me that I'm lazy and unmotivated. Telling me that I need to do something for myself. As much as the negativity pissed me off- I found out that so long as I'm attending a vocational program: I can remain on Un-Employment. And Bobby just happened to have found the longest most drawn out program there is in Northeast Ohio (I did research).

So I pretended like I actually listened to them, and then sucked my pride in- and enrolled in school. They think it's because they finally "Got through to me". If that makes them happy- then so be it. Ignorance is bliss. But frankly- I see it as more time for me to figure out how to get ahead before I get stuck in another trap. Cause that's all this program is going to offer- another dead end trap.

"You've got to pan your dirt before you find any gold." I'm assuming this metaphor implies that you need to work hard before making it big. That's totally wrong, and whoever made that metaphor was the same idiot who wasted his time with a pan sifting for gold- when they were sitting atop of mud that was practically pure silver nitrate. Because they were so narrow minded to see anything else.

You might as well say "You can't fail if you never try." Because as much as you might not believe those two statements are remotely the same- They are synnomous in definition. Because the day I accept that I can't make it big with just a good idea or even just a simple one- and only hard work and servitude will allow me the ability to get ahead: Then that's the day that I pretty much give up.

Don't get me wrong. I want to work hard. I want a garage so I can build my magnet motor. I want a office so that I can design my live action role-playing game. I want to break the currency market. I want to a raise a child that will annoy the piss out of me. I want a high maitenence wife that I will have to constantly make time for. I want to prove Einstein wrong on his theory of relativity, because I think I see a contradiction in his theory. I want to go to school to learn (not for a job).

I want to work hard. But what I want to work on generates $0 in revenue.

So I need to make a lot of money fast, and then focus on the things that I really want to do.

I don't want to party or over indulge. A car, a 3 bed 2 bath house w/ attached garage- that's all I need. I don't want to be lazy..but it would be nice to be able to take a day off for myself without having someone make me feel guilty or reprimand me for doing so. I want to be free. I don't want to be like my father who spent his entire life in miserable cause he fell into the trap.

And I hate to say it- This certificate I'm getting is not going to land me 2.1 million dollars in only a couple of years. It's really not going to get me any further to achieving what I really want.

Sure it might help me get on my feet. Help me get just a little more time to figure things out. But it is NOT THE ANSWER.

Don't be proud of me, because I'm not proud of myself. I haven't found the answer to my problem. I'm still failing. Don't encourage my failure like everyone else does- cause you of all people know how miserable I am. How I am tormented by my lack of creativity, and success. How I can't stand to look in the mirror because I am not the person who I want to be.

Some kids wanted to become a professional athlete. Some wanted to be musicians. Some wanted to just be popular.

I just want to be smart. I want to prove to myself that I am intelligent. And to me- if I can make 2.1 million dollars by the time I'm 30: I'm smart. Money doesn't define intelligence- but being able to solve a problem does. And Money is my problem.

When I was a second chair drummer- and not first. When I was a second string player- and not starting. When I always get sloppy seconds from a girl, and not first. When I never displayed or demonstrated any real potential- I always was able to cope with the defeat and find self-worth by telling myself that I was at least smart.

But I don't feel smart anymore. I don't feel I have any real worth..any real potential.

So I need to do this. Failure is not a option. Panning out the gold is not a option.

So you're wrong.

But that's why I always liked you.

I would be nice to hang out with you. But i can't go to your party.

1.) My truck was stolen, recovered- completely trashed. It will take more money to repair than what it's worth.

2.) My license was suspended a while ago because I couldn't afford insurance. And it costs way too much to get insurance, pay for school, fix my car, and pay the re-instatement fee.

3.) The above two are great excuses for me to use to hide the fact that I really don't feel like dancing on strings like a puppet to entertain anyone. Cause that's all I ever feel like when I'm hanging out with a bunch of people. And it drains me.

4.) I've been hiding at my parents house for the past week- cause I'd rather get a ride from them to take me back and forth from school for the holidays than riding the stupid bus. So it would be hard for me to get back and forth from your place to theirs.

But if you have some time in the future to hang out, let me know. I can find a way to get over to you. Just let me know when you're free.

And don't sit here and pretend like everything is okay. Cause I hate that shit.

Reality is, is that I slighted you. You can sit here and say that it's not a big deal- and tell me don't worry about it. But it is. It's small shit like that lingers on that creates butterfly effects.

I need to make it up to you. I won't forget it.


-Phil

Yet again, I tried to take the high road...tried to let him know that I didn't care about things that happened in the past.

Phil,

"Reality is, is that I slighted you. You can sit here and say that it's not a big deal- and tell me don't worry about it. But it is. It's small shit like that lingers on that creates butterfly effects."

It isn't a big deal. I really don't care, you don't owe me for anything. If I were mad at every person that slighted me in some fashion I would have to spend the rest of my life pissed for one reason or another - I don't have the energy to do that. Nor do I want to. I've only got one life and I intend to live it happy. If I am a millionaire or if I am cleaning dog shit for a living, I intend to make the most of it all. Hopefully, one day you will learn to do the same.

If you truly want to be my friend again you should know that I won't stand for people putting me down or making me feel that I am not good enough any more, or telling me what I think is useless. Disagree with me all you want but tread lightly with how you say what you mean. and remember - you asked me to let you back into my life, not the other way around. I never counted you out as a friend I never removed you from my life, you did that to yourself.

That being said -

Any time that you wanted to get together except for this weekend I am totally booked, next weekend it is my mothers birthday party on Saturday so I have Sunday free OR we can wait and get together on the 17th or 18th - I will leave it up to you.

~Anna

I guess Phil didn't Like my response to him.

Anna,

Well if don't want me to "put you down" (which this a jump from what I said. I presented a argument...I didn't call you a bitch or anything), or tell you that your viewpoints are useless- perhaps you should be careful where and when you insert your opinions. And really I didn't imply that your opinions are useless period. Because if you want to hear the positive- they're not useless. They're not at all. But they're not the answer for me. And I presented a argument on why they weren't. Doesn't mean someone else can't live a great life on your logic. It's just not the life I want. Cause it's not the life that I see myself in.

I am confused, though. My arguments and statements were completely reactionary towards yours. But what is the real difference? Is it because you were trying to be "nice" as you tried to tell me that I was wrong? Is it because you tried stating your opinion in a helpful manner? But it all spells out the same thing- you thought that I'm wrong. Throwing out compliment in front of it doesn't make your statement any better than or less hurtful than mine. I just didn't let it hurt me.

There was no insults in my statements- only pure cold logic. The one truth that exists in this world.

But since you put in that manner I will re-phase my last statements:

Anna I think you are very thoughtful and considerate of other people. And you never shy away from offering a helping hand cause you're a highly ethical person. But sometimes I think you insert you opinion where it's not really needed, and then you try to play the victim when you get burned by the fire you started.

Is that more thoughtful and considerate? It's exactly how you did it to me, right?

Yes I'm argumentative.

And yes time from time I am wrong. Just because you haven't proved to me I'm wrong now, doesn't mean that the day won't come when I'm eating my words- and every bad feeling you ever had is completely trumped by the self-satisfaction of knowing that you were vindicated. Like I'm sure you will probably get some self-satisfaction when I tell you that I'm still chasing Molly: And I'm still horribly miserable over it. The reality is, is that you were completely right with everything you said about her. I have a addiction. It is her. It is a addiction, and it only hurts me. But I'm still addicted nonetheless.

So there was a time you were right. I should've listened to you when I still had the chance to walk away. I technically have the chance to walk away now- but it is like 100 times harder now. But that's besides the point. I'm telling you this to prove that you're not useless. In fact- I wish I got to know you before July of 06' so you could've told me how bad of a idea the whole thing was before I got too deep. Where were you on that? Hahaha.

But trust me- that feeling of vindication is way better than letting your feelings get hurt. Emotions exist as a extension of human instinct- and are nothing more than a self preservation mechanism. Don't let them go beyond that.

If you let something like what I say emotionally "hurt" and get to you- then the emotional/instinctual translation is fight or flight because you feel the need to protect yourself. Then there is no evolutionary difference between someone telling you that you are useless- and a rabbit running from a fox. And there is obviously a large difference from someone being petty and fearing for your life.

I will take into consideration your feelings. And I promise you that I will tone down the Asshole volume to a reasonable level- let's say a "4" for the future.

But I offer the opinions above as friendly advice- nothing more. I'm not insulting you. I swear it's not my intention to. In fact- I tell you this because in a way I want to protect you from the nasty things in the world. Cause there are things way more nasty then me. And trust me when you get all defensive like that- you're invite people to take advantage of that. Cause then they know that they are getting to you.

If you feel there is a need for you to get defensive, just tell me politely, and I'll stop. You can even make up a secret word, like "Applesauce" hahahaha...okay I'm being a dick again. I'm sorry, but it's just so easy. You have to admit that's funny though. Seriously though- I'll try not to be a ass, but I don't really know when I'm being a ass....so tell me and I'll stop.

-Phil

At this point I decided just to ignore him, I had shit to do and no energy to waist on him. So, I ignored him. He called and I ignored that too. After a month went by, I figured that Phil had gotten the point...

I was wrong.

from Phil reply-to xxxxxx@yahoo.com to Anna date Wed, Feb 11, 2009 at 9:01 PM subject Hey mailed-by yahoo.com

You never called me back. You do realized that you're it right now, right?

You suck at tag, lol.

J/K

I noticed you've been really pushing your blog.

I see you put a small google adsense ad in there. I thought about doing the same thing, but I didn't know if it's worth the time or effort. I wanted to do more of a self-help guide rather then blog about my life- because my life is boring and redundant. Well, at least now it is. But it will change in due time.

I don't want to pry, but with the 48,000 views you have so far with the amount of time it's been up: Is that a good number?

I mean- what should be the monthly target to generate about say $500 a month with the setup you have?

I was just curious.

-Jacob

PS- Call me sometime so we can make arrangements to hook up. If you get my voicemail, then tell me when the next time you're available to talk.


Yeah. Right.
I knew that I wasn't going to attempt to hang out with him any time but if he had some questions about what I do and how I do it, I was going to tell him. I never turn down a person who wants to do what I do. I will always give out advice, so that's what I did.

Phil,

About the blog:
{edited out due to sensitive information}

About Us:

I never called back because I don't really see the point. As you can
tell I am forcing my life to become what I want, more spotlight, more
about me. I am out every night somewhere, I have friends over all the
time, I am a party person. You are not.

Sitting at home playing vidoe games is not what I do anymore. I don't
want to push you into a place that your find uncomfortable and I
cannot stay home if I want to bring more hits to my site. I've got to
make sure that I am doing what is best for me at this point in my
life, working at the hotel full time and putting each and every other
minute of my life into my blog is what I feel I need to do. The only
time my friends see me anymore is when I go out and you hate to do
that.

So you tell me the point of us hanging out?

~Anna


Up to this point, I feel that I have been nothing more than classy. I haven't attacked him, I haven't told him off, and I have kept my mouth shut with what I really think of this festering asshole.

I was under complete control and acting unlike myself. Then Phil replied.


Fine-

I see lots of points, but I'm not going to even waste my breath. The fact
yu would want me to argue the basis of a friendship is just insulting.

You're right- I have better, more meaningful things to do than just "party". I forgot apparently that's all you're capable of. I don't know what I was thinking, I must have mistaken you for someone who was a intellectually deep. Someone who I could stand enough to be a room alone with them- and actually enjoy it. Someone who I once saw as a great confidant and someone who I could share some of my most inner thoughts and reflect with.

Well, I guess if you ever want to do something else other then just getting drunk and playing "Barbie" for real: Let me know.

I'm sorry about the mix-up though. I guess you weren't the person I thought you were. My bad.

Next time you don't want to hang out with someone- just say "I don't want to hang out with you."

Don't insult me, or my intellegence. Or expect a reply like this.

I'm not good enough to hang out with you....hahaha...that's just such a great notion. You're the first girl to ever tell me that. That's hilarious. To have someone not like me so much that they have to throw insults and make it seem it like I'm not "good" enough for their time....

Man, that's just great. You made made my day, hahah! Sorry, but I'm done with partying.

I did my fair share of partying. Trust me you have no idea the times I've had in my day. And what I learned from it that it's too easy to be successful and be the center of the attention: Then to poor beer on my hand and spend my time making everyone else happy to be the center or their world.

The only person who ever needs to like you, is you.

-Phil


It was at this point that I was done. Done with him. Done with his bullshit. All around done with him trying to get me to admit he was right. My reply to him was the last of our contacts, so far....


No where in my e-mail did I say that I was not good enough to hang out
with you. I said that what I like to do and what you like to do are
entirely different.
but after the e-mail you just sent to me I am taking my kid gloves off.

Here it is Phil. No flowery words, no more trying to be nice.

I don't want to hang out with you because you are a loser. You spent
your entire life plotting and scheming to get your way and you aren't
very good at it. I don't believe one word you say anymore. You lie all
of the time to try to make yourself seem bad ass when in reality you
are just some scared little kid who has no drive or direction in life.
Time after time you have done nothing but disappoint me, your friends,
and your family. You dream of making millions but you can't even
afford to buy a milkshake. You have no work ethic
and make fun of people who do. You are rude to the people that
actually want to help you and kiss the feet of the people that just
want to use you.

Your priorities are skewed so badly that you cannot be a productive
member of society and the fact that you think you don't have to be a
member of society is alarming at its best. You have a seance of
entitlement that is grossly undeserved. The world doesn't owe you, it
never has and it never will.

You are impossible to talk to because you have this mental block that
only your way of thinking is correct and somehow you will train the
masses to be more like you. If that day ever comes you wont find me
around anywhere. I couldn't deal with your bullshit when we were
dating and I can't deal with it now.

You need to go to a doctor and get on some medication or something
because, honestly and truly Phil, I have an absurd amount of patience
and you have managed to tip me over the edge because of your bullshit.
Take your stupid high school drama and fuck off because I, like so
many other people in your life, am done with you. If you can't manage
to just behave in a civil manor to those around you, you can't manage
to get some form of income to pay your bills and you can't manage to
grow up then I can't manage to be your friend.

The novelty has worn off. Like an old toy your paint is chipping, your
shine has faded and you are left alone in the back of the toy bin.


If Phil replies, I will edit this post accordingly.

A Strong Wine, A Good Book, and A Boy

I love to be naked. As far as I am concerned, naked is the state all non-ugly humans should be in at all times. Because I am living with a gay man, I tend to not be naked as much as I would like to be. I respect him enough to not make him deal with all my girly bits in person. The past few days, Benji has not been home. My time has been spent wonderfully naked roaming my apartment. I've mostly been keeping to my room, so as my naked butt wouldn't touch his couch.

I went wandering from my room late last night, flipped on the light in the kitchen, and went to grab something to drink. I poured a rather full glass of wine and walked aimlessly into the living room. I was going to grab a book off the shelf and sit in my room and read. It has been a long time since I have had the time to read a good book.

I contemplated my choice of book for a bit, took a few sips of my wine, and that's when I noticed I had a bruise on my left boob.

I hoisted the lefty up as far as I could to get a better look at the bruise and stayed that way for a good minute, contemplating where the quarter-sized black and blue mark (just millimeters above my left nipple) could have come from. After wracking my brain for a satisfactory answer to the mystery I released my chest into its resting state and found a book. I picked it up and started to read a bit walking across the living room when all of a sudden I hear a car horn.

I turned to face the curtain that normally covers our sliding glass door, planning to pull it back a little and see what was going on. It was not there. I had been walking around in my house with all the lights on at night with a huge two paneled glass door showing all my bits and pieces to the neighborhood.

I quickly closed the drapes and chuckled to myself about how exposed I could have been.

__________________________________________________________

The next day I woke up and got myself ready for a day out, as I had a lot of running around to do. I took a shower, got dressed, and headed out to my car when I noticed a really attractive guy coming out of the apartment of my 80 year old crotchety neighbor.

I decided this was a perfect time to strike up a conversation with this cute guy who I had not seen before. Walking over to him I noticed two things. He was blushing more and more the closer I got to him and his smile was getting bigger and bigger.

I know I am cute but DAMN! I had this guy sheepish and submissive before I even said hello...

I'm awesome.

I got close enough to him to be able to hold a conversation, so I started.

"Hi. I'm Anna. I live next door. Did you just move in?" I knew he hadn't, but it was a good opener.

He looked at me, winked and simply said, "Hope you enjoyed youe wine last night." Then, he got into his car and left.

WHY GOD?!?! WHY DID I HAVE TO INSPECT MY BOOB WHEN THE HOT GUY WAS SNOOPING ON ME?!?!?!

It is events like this that have kept me from getting laid recently.... I am not happy about it.

A Correspondance.

As most of you know I have a Myspace. Now and again on myspace I search for new friends. The way I figure it the more friends I have the more people I can go out with. I like to party and have a core group of friends but I'd like to mix it up here and there.

I was befriending people a few days ago and I came across this profile.

Now, there are three things that I noticed right away. 1. The profile name has both a female and male name attached. This tells me this is a couple who have one myspace they share. 2. The profile picture is of only the man, in his army uniform. This made me think he would most likely be fun to party with, most army boys are. And finally 3. The happy couple lives in Alabama. I've had some fun times in Alabama. I went crawdad fishing for the first time there. It was awesome.

I decide to send a friend request to them because I think they could be fun. And they were fun but in an entirely different way.

I love it when sheep come to the slaughter.

I've attached our correspondence below.

----------------- Original Message -----------------

From: Justin and Dana (101036089)

To: Annastasia (373496811)

Date: Feb 16, 2009 11:03 AM

Subject: Hey

----------------- Original Message -----------------

From: ..Annastasia..

Date: Feb 16, 2009 3:37 PM

I am Anna

----------------- Original Message -----------------

From: Justin and Dana (101036089)

To: Annastasia (373496811)

Date: Feb 16, 2009 11:16 AM

Subject: Re: RE: Hey

Well anna dnt send n e mre frnd request to my husband. He doesnt get on here i do so just leave him alone

----------------- Original Message -----------------

From: ..Annastasia..

Date: Feb 16, 2009 4:21 PM

Its not as if I was trying to get in his pants, your husband is safe. Don't freak out. I sent a friend request because I thought the two of you might be cool people but, I guess not. You're just an overprotective bitch. I'm so glad you keep your military husband, who most likely needs a large support system due to the huge responsibility his job places on him, away from making new friends. Your such a thoughtful wife.

----------------- Original Message -----------------

From: Justin and Dana (101036089)

To: Annastasia (373496811) Date: Feb 16, 2009 11:26 AM

Subject: Re: RE: Re: RE: Hey

Yeah im a bitch but im not a fucking whore like u. Go get a life. Stop trying to mesg ppls husbands. Little whores like you are not worth wasteing my time on. Send all the mesg u want to we wont read them. And like i said he doesnt get on here any mre i do so go fuck with sum one else husband

----------------- Original Message -----------------

From: ..Annastasia..

Date: Feb 16, 2009 4:32 PM

Its so funny that you would cast judgment on me so quickly, Calling me a whore is a little out of place when I said I DO NOT WANT IN HIS PANTS. See how wrong you can be when you cast judgment so quickly?

I thought since you do have that you were on myspace to make friends that maybe just maybe we could have been friends. You make it quite apparent that he has someone special in his life just by your profile name. I thought maybe two people that were in a committed relationship could have friends outside of each other. I do but I guess in your eyes that makes me a whore.

I am sorry that you are not open to having friends. I hope that your husband is okay with that decision because you seem to be talking for him too.

----------------- Original Message -----------------

From: Justin and Dana (101036089)

To: Annastasia (373496811)

Date: Feb 16, 2009 11:37 AM

Subject: Re: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: Hey

He is rite here beside me reading every thing so get over it. Damn dnt u knw when sum one is telling u that they dnt want to talk to u. Good- bye

----------------- Original Message -----------------

From: ..Annastasia..

Date: Feb 16, 2009 5:05 PM

I thought, since we have been talking, I would help you out a little bit. That way you would see I just want to be friends with you. Because that is what friends do, they help each other out. That being said, your last message to me seemed a little rushed. I am touched you would get back to me so quickly but you may want to be sure your spell check is working correctly because it seems to have broken. You wrote to me: "He is rite here beside me reading every thing so get over it. Damn dnt u knw when sum one is telling u that they dnt want to talk to u. Good- bye" The correct grammar and spelling for this message would be: "He is right here beside me, reading everything. So, get over it. Damn! Don't you know when someone is telling you that they don't want to talk to you. Good Bye!!" I hope that this will assist you in getting your spell check fixed. Also, I respect that you don't have the time to talk to me right now but, that is the beauty of myspace messages you can let them sit in your in box until you do have the time to respond! Also, I would like to apologize for the comment I made earlier. You are not a bitch. I was very quick to judge and shouldn't have been. I can see by the fact that your husband is there with you that the two of you must have a very committed relationship. It only takes one person to type. I should have known that. Hope to hear from you soon new friends!!

----------------- Original Message -----------------

From: Justin and Dana (101036089)

To: Annastasia (373496811)

Date: Feb 16, 2009 12:31 PM

Subject: Re: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE: Re: RE:

Hey Look i knw how to spell. Ok. Just leave us alone we are nt ur frnd. Go away!



I figure I will give it about a week and the Message my new friends again to see how they have been doing, and to make sure nothing is wrong in the stunningly beautiful relationship they have.

A Bit of Information

I know you were all looking forward to a wonderfully witty and well composed post from me this week. You will still get that post, however, I am posting a bit of news first. Expect a story up on Wednesday, March 11, 2009.

As some of my more loyal readers know, I only break format once a year. and it is always due to something BIG! Yes, you've guessed it! TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

And for my birthday, I am going on some weekend tours. First, this weekend, I am taking off to Richmond, Virginia on the 13th-15th The next weekend, I am going to be in Cleveland, Ohio for the Dave Coulier show. The 27th-29th, I am going to Columbus, Ohio to relax in a wonderfully plush hotel and shop until my wallet runs dry. And April is full of more places and more fun.

I am telling all of my readers this because I want to be out of town every weekend from March to June...which means if you have a party, I will be there, just shoot me an e-mail at Annastasia.Manos@gmail.com.

Wee Willy Winkle

I have this fear, well honestly it is more of an aversion, to male genitalia. The penis is just weird looking. Mind you, I do rather enjoy the effects it has on the female form...I just don't see any reason why one should be sought after when not in it's fully erect position.

Seeing a flaccid penis makes me shudder. I honestly don't understand them. This turns out to be a great thing for whomever I am dating at the time because when I do happen upon a debilitated pecker, I feel the need to help it past its own short comings. I work my hardest to never have to see a flimsy love bump.

That being said, my hostility toward the flaccid penis never had any rhyme nor reason to it. No one I have talked to can help me pinpoint why I have this fear. However, I believe it stemmed from the fact that I had spent most of my life never seeing one. Every contact I had with men and their naughty bits had been of the joyous kind. Each and every one was at full attention; ready and willing to fight the good fight before I had even come close to it.

I had made it to the ripe old age of eighteen before I had even considered what a flaccid penis looked like. I still remember the first time I ever laid eyes upon Zorro's unmasked sword. I went to Kent State for their Halloween bash where I let it slip to Benji that I had never seen a trouser soldier not standing at attention. He found this to be rather odd and after much chagrin on my part, Benji whipped out his willy for the world to see. (Editor's Note: It was just for Anna to see...everyone else has to buy me a drink first ;) )

It was then I vowed never to see his again: soft, hard, or anywhere in between. Best friend penis is worse than flaccid penis every time.

It has been three years since the horrid exchange that bordered on facing a fear and oogling my friend's junk. I still have an irrational fear for the shrunken slinger. I don't think it will ever go away.

Cold Cereal Anyone?

You know what's ALWAYS bothered me? Cold cereal mascots. I mean, that is just some FUCKED UP SHIT. The Trix Rabbit, for example, I dunno man... if I were him, I'd be fucking KILLING some kids. I remember a commercial where the fuckin' rabbit WENT INTO A FUCKIN' STORE AND BOUGHT A BOX OF TRIX WITH HIS OWN FUCKIN' MONEY. Fuckin' kids came outta NOWHERE and basically fuckin' mugged the poor stupid bitch rabbit. "Silly Rabbit, Trix are for kids!" Fuckin' rabbit just sat there and looked depressed. FUCK NO! That wouldn't fly with me! I'd have pimp-slapped EVERY ONE of those fuckin' bitches, made them get me the REST of a "complete breakfast," ate the Trix right in front of them, and THEN beat the shit out of them some more.

And what the fuck is with the disguises? All the dumb rabbit does is hide his ears and all of a sudden he's a fuckin' kid? I dunno about you, but if I SAW a six foot fuckin' RABBIT with his ears tucked under a baseball cap, I wouldn't immediately think, "Hey, there's a cool lookin' human kid, let me go over and share some of my cereal with him!" NO. I'd be thinking, "That's a six foot fuckin' RABBIT with his ears tucked under a baseball cap...what the FUCK was I just smoking?"

And another thing...what the fuck is up with cereal being "part of this complete breakfast?" Last time I checked, cereal WAS breakfast. They show a big ass bowl of frosted flakes next to a waffle, a pancake, toast, a banana, and a fuckin' grapefruit...who the FUCK eats a breakfast that big? Not me. I don't even EAT breakfast anymore. I mean, I eat when I get up, but the whole thought "BREAKFAST IS ONLY SERVED UNTIL SUCH AND SUCH TIME...?" Bitch, you make my fuckin' sausage and egg sandwich when I pay you the fuckin' money and don't give me that shit.

Back to stupid cereal mascots...

Lucky Charms. FUCKIN' LUCKY CHARMS!! Lucky can turn the fuckin' MOON into a marshmallow, and he can't escape a bunch of fuckin' six year olds?!?!? C'mon now, Lucky. I KNOW your bitch ass has got to have a "Blow the fuckin' kids up" spell SOMEWHERE or "make kids into marshmallows" and EAT those bitches. "They're after me Lucky Charms!"....KILL THEM, BITCH!

I dunno why I went off on this rant here...it's just always bothered me.

Anna Goes Flying. No, Change That. Anna Goes Falling with Style.

Over this past weekend, I went to Hilton Head, SC. All in all, it was a wonderful vacation. The beach and the sun was a welcomed break from the drab weather of Ohio. However, it is the reason why I will not be flying anywhere any time soon. I got to the airport with what I believed was plenty of time to pass through security. Nothing in my life is ever that simple.

I got on my first plane without a hitch. I found my seat and wasn't even sandwiched between two wheezing heifers who are so fat that they spill over into my seat. I had the whole row to myself! Things were looking up in my traveling escapades. I had room for my bags, my laptop, I could use the tray table on the seat next to me for my drink and free airline pretzels (in a bag only a surgeon could open.) I was relaxing and writing, keeping to myself with headphones on. The old bitty across the isle didn't even bug me to show me her grandkids' pictures or talk about the weather. It was a wonderful flight!

I landed in Atlanta, got off the plane, and headed to my connecting flight. Whoever makes up flight patterns should be shot because I went from Akron, OH to Atlanta, GA to eventually end up in Savannah, GA...all to take a cab ride into Hilton Head, SC. Traveling never made less sense. However, because my first flight went so well, I was optimistic.

Little did I know how wrong I was.

I waited at the gate for my near four hour layover, occupying myself by laughing and taunting the surrounding community of travelers. One woman came towards me with a horde of children, all under the age of ten. They were obviously tired and cranky. The eldest was complaining of his ears hurting and the youngest was in his/her (it was an ugly baby) carrier crying its eyes out. Not so under my breath I muttered "I swear if that group of miscreants are on my flight I am switching to a different one." Mommy was not amused.

I take it that she had just about enough of the stress from her kids and my comment left her angry. Truly, honest to God angry. If she were a cartoon, her face would have started to boil, steam would have poured from her ears, and a loud train whistle would have blown. Needless to say, I got reamed out. She took her brood and ran off for another place to sit. I considered this a small victory and went back to my writing.

Eventually, after what had seemed like a millennium, the plane started to board. It was considerably smaller than the first one. I was on the three seat side of the plane. I scuttled my way down the isle and into my row. Not a moment after I got situated, two older than dirt bluehairs sat down in the seats next to me.

I could tell just by the way the one woman walked that she and her friend were talkers. I reached for my laptop, headphones, and started to turn on the loudest screaming music I could find.

BING!
"All electric devices must be off and safely stored in an overhead compartment for take off. The captain will alert you when it is safe to use your devices again, Thank you, and have a wonderful flight"
BING!

Fucking flight attendant.

I stored my shit gruffly and prepared for the questions to come from the old bitches. Almost immediately, after I had everything stored away the woman in the middle (we'll call her Betty) asked me if I knew how long the flight was going to be. (This was Betty's opener: a way to trap me into the friendly banter that I hate) There is no use in talking to people on planes because they are short term friends. I will never see these old women again in my life and they won't see me. I do not want to know about their grandchildren or that time they went to Bocca. I hardly care about my own grandmother's trip to Bocca. But on a plane, it is somehow OK to engage strangers about the idiosyncrasies of one's life. Because I was strapped into a uncomfortable foam seat/flotation device higher than any drug could get you, I was stuck.

We chatted as little as possible...scratch that, I chatted as little as possible. Betty, on the other hand, ran her mouth so much I can't believe her dentures didn't pop right out. She started with this being her first flight in years and rattled on until my brain started to melt and flow from my ears. It was her incessant jabber that kept my mind off of how much turbulence the flight was running into.

Eventually, Betty's tale of espionage in her home (when "Mr. Night-Night Bear" went missing) were not enough to keep my mind from the winds outside the flight. I responded to her for the first time in nearly twenty minutes with, "Did you feel that?"

That was all I needed to say to send Betty and her friend Joy into a panicked frenzy. Joy clutched Betty's hand, Betty started to breath deeply almost to the point of hyperventilation. I, however, just adjusted my seat belt a little tighter.

It was after I tightened my belt that the jet hit the hardest bit of sky I have ever flown through. It jerked to the right violently and dropped a good three to four thousand feet in the air. The crew came careening through the isle to be sure everyone had their seat belts on and took their emergency seats.

Betty stared to scream.

The lights flashed off and then back on and, in that instant, I thought I was going to die.

The plane lurched forward and seemed to fall from the sky. In that same moment, I was not only worried for my own safety, but the safety of Betty, Joy, and the annoying bunch of kids that had ran away from me in the terminal. I looked to Joy who was working to comfort Betty as best as she could when my vision was obstructed. In one fell swoop, Betty screamed as if she had her kidneys ripped out through her nose and Joy slumped down in her seat. It was my assumption that she had either given up or died (she was extremely old after all.) The air masks that I had always known about, but never imagined I would use as anything more than a fake fez, dropped from the ceiling and all the lights on the plane went out.

I scrambled to help Betty with her mask and lurched myself out of my seat belt to crawl across her to get the mask on Joy's possibly dead body. I did all of this, trying to get myself back in my seat with my mask and belt on before the plane hit the ground. It was at this point that I figured I was about to die and started to determine who would come to ID my body.

In the perceived hour that was truly about forty-five seconds, the crew somehow righted the plane. We were flying dangerously low, to the point that I could clearly make out the tree tops outside my window, but we were no longer falling. We continued to raise our altitude until we went far above the storm and made it safely to Savannah.

By the time we landed, Betty had stopped crying (and changed her return plans to include a rental car for the drive home), Joy had woken up (she had apparently passed out from all the stress), the crew was at ease, and I was ready for a stiff drink.

I wrote to the airline about this event and they offered compensation to me as well as the rest of the flight (which couldn't have been more than 30 people.) They also let me know that they have given the crew raises and an award for their excellent behavior in a stressful situation.

I couldn't agree with the airline more. If not for the quick thinking of the pilot, I would most likely be dead.

New Improvements to The Site

Hello Everyone!

I've got exciting news, as you can all see to the right of this posting there is a few buttons: Digg and Stumbleupon. If you are not familiar with these, they are social bookmarking sites that let other people with the same interests find cool sites. If you don't use them, I highly suggest you give them both a try. Just click on the button to the right, set up an account (NO SPAM), and just like that, you are off and running.

I am trying another service too. Twitter.com is this awesome website that will allow users to receive live updates of what I am up to. If you don't have a twitter account, use the like above to sign up. If you already have a twitter, come follow me by clicking www.twitter.com/annastasiamanos. Again, NO SPAM!

Also, as I am sure you have noticed, I had a guest blog this week. My editor Benji will be chiming in from time to time to make sure I have my details correct. If you like what you see, you can follow him at www.twitter.com/bencollingwood.

I think that is it for the updates, but just so you know some things I have in the works:
Photo Show ~ all those pictures you see me taking when I am out? They will find there way to the site.
Guests Comments ~ you will be able to tell me exactly what you think of my stories
Video Blogs ~ my stories out of my own mouth, just for you!

Lots of Love Readers!

Anna

Glass rhymes with Ass

I was sitting in my basement watching a movie with "Smooy." It was an all night Family Guy marathon and we were in it for the long hall. Because it was our girls night in and Smooy doesn’t have a washing machine I told her to bring her dirty clothes to my house to do some laundry in between DVD’s.

Disc one two and three went by without a hitch. We laughed, we folded clothes, and we drank. A lot. By the end of DVD three we were rock, paper, scissoring to see who would have to flip the laundry in the basement and who would go to the other side of the room to switch the DVD. I won.

Smooy would be the one to traverse the span of the house, which I haven’t cleaned in quite some time, take herself into the treacherous wasteland that was the unfinished side of my basement and mosey over to the washer and dryer to continue the laundry process. She would also be the one to climb over piles of my laundry, step on the cold concrete floor, and carry the dryer sheet scented clothing back to the living room to the waiting arms of my drunken ass for folding.

I, however, had to walk to the opposite side of the room and change a DVD.

When it was time for our various duties, Smooy got up and began to head to the beckoning laundry. I stood, on very shaky legs and crossed by the arm chair to stand in between my entertainment center and my newly purchased glass coffee table. I looked to the floor where my DVD player lay. The Family Guy DVD’s lay dormant with disc four staring at me, waiting to be played.

I was already holding onto the entertainment center for balance. The great part about staying in is that you get to drink as much as you want without worry of driving home. The bad part of staying in is that you get to drink as much as you want without standing up frequently. And let’s just say that all at once it hit me. Every last drop of booze that entered into my body stood up and started to shout. It wanted my brain to know just how much the chocolate vodka I was drinking was gaining control of every function. My brain just wanted to watch Family Guy.

I thought I was winning the argument between brain and booze; turns out the booze were just playing a horrible trick on me. It knew I was going to do something stupid and it just wanted to bear witness. I loomed over the DVD’s for a few moments. Just long enough for Smooy to get all the way to the washer. As she was opening the lid to swap loads I leaned down, bending at the waist, to acquire disc four.

The choice to bend at the waist was quickly determined as a huge mistake. The center of balance and booze in my system were on a plot against me. Wanting to see me fail, the vodka decided to trip me. Being that my bum was sticking out in attempts to acquire more of Peter Griffin, I fell, bum first, into my brand new glass coffee table.

The coffee table shattered under the pressure of my drunken self and in one fell swoop I was no longer standing contemplating if the upcoming disk had the ipecac scene on it but now I was teetering, all weight on my bum, back against one iron side of the table feet held in the air by the other. Like a turtle on its shell I was helpless in my attempts to get out of this situation. Not to mention every time I moved I felt another sharp pain in my ass.

After about 30 seconds of squirming and feeling a damaging pain in my ass, I gave up and called for Smooy. Smooy ran to help me because she had heard the crash and my screams. Upon entering the room she stopped to survey the situation. The old disc still playing on the T.V., the broken glass over the floor, the iron frame of the table situated around my body as if it had been built around me, me writhing in pain as I complain about some foreign object that is protruding into my bum in the worst way possible and instead of coming to my rescue as any friend would she started to laugh.

Standing in the doorway of the living room Smooy laughed and laughed hard. Still belly laughing she came to my rescue and helped to pick me up out of the table. As she was doing so I realized that the pain in my bum that I thought was just something poking me was actually something lodged into my upper bum lower back region. Slightly above my crack, I now felt a trickle of liquid start to head south on my skin. I did something I thought I would never do and uttered words I thought I would never say. In that instant I pulled my pants down and asked Smooy to check my ass.

I knew there was something wrong based on her reaction. A long pause followed by the words I will never forget. “I think you’ve been cut.” I wobbled to the mirror ignoring, to the best of my ability, the cut on my no-no bits. When I twisted to see my butt in the mirror I knew I wasn’t going to like what I saw. There in my butt was a huge piece of glass sticking out of my flesh. Around it were small cuts that were slowly dripping blood down my skin. In my still drunken state there was no way I could handle this rationally. I started screaming about the hospital and needing to be driven to the ER. Begging Smooy to call the ambulance didn’t work; thankfully Smooy was sober enough to drive. She was going to take me to the ER.

Walking from the mirror to the car with glass in my ass was impractical so I made Smooy take the glass out of my bum, which made it bleed, profusely. With my ass gushing blood I couldn’t rightfully sit in the car. We decided that I would kneel onto the seat of the passenger side, holding onto the head rest against my chest. Smooy would drive. I climbed into the car. Smooy started the engine and began to back out of the driveway. A short amount of time later and we were on the road flying to the hospital. Because of the booze and Mr. Toad behind the wheel I was feeling more and more drunk as the ride went on. I managed to hold myself together long enough to get to the ER.

Smooy dropped me off at the door. I walked to the doors and out came the night security guard. She offered me a seat in a wheelchair. I just laughed and kept walking. I went up to the triage center and didn’t say a word. When they asked me what I was there for I simply tuned around. The nurse at the desk ushered me into a waiting room where two of the hottest guys I had ever seen came in to assess the damage I had caused myself. They took me to an actual hospital room. Then I had four more male nurses, three female nurses, and two male doctors come in to look at my shredded bum.

After many jokes with the staff about how I really had a tail removed on the black market and the deal went sour, they came to a decision: I was to get stitches in my booty. I honestly feel that at this point I cannot end this story justly with only words. I need to show my readers exactly what happened to my lower bits. I can’t just describe what happened to me. For your benefit, I’ve attached two photos- one picture is my ass with stitches, one is me in the hospital bed.

Large, cut in my ass needing nine stitches Drunk in a hospital bed.

Now that you have also witnessed the horror that was my Family Guy night with Smooy, let me share what I have learned. ONE: Never drink and watch Family Guy, no matter how tempting. TWO: No matter how tempting it is to stay put, always offer to do the laundry. And THREE: If you want to land a hot doctor, the way to go about meeting him is not to cut your ass in the middle of the night. The staff will laugh at you, and so will your friends. All in all, it was a good learning experience for me.

Oh yeah, one more thing.

I have also learned that I don’t ever want anything to poke me in the ass again.

The first, and last, time left with a wicked scar.