It’s Finally Happened

I’ve finally, truly, given up on ever having faith in men.

I just don’t believe that they’ll ever do what they say they will, anymore.

I don’t have any fucks to give when it comes to romance, either.

I’m so done with giving chances to men who shit on me, take me for granted, walk all over me & treat me as though I were nothing more than a convenience drive-through for them.

It’s been a long time coming, this attitude, and a slow death by attrition, but after everything – I’m just. Fucking. Done.

I don’t want anymore promises, no more “please, just one more chance”s… No more winky faces, no more flirtatious texts or DMs on Instagram. No more “trying just one last time” on dating sites, because Goddess knows – THAT is the LAST fucking thing I need. No more damn messages asking me about my “likes and dislikes”.

Fuuuuuuuck… I’m so tired of all the bullshit, only to end up alone again at the end of it all, because it really was all just a game to the other person.

I’m too damn old for this shit.

I’m too old for these men who “claim” they “love me” (ha) and yet they can’t ever seem to make their way to my damn door. Oh, but they can text every day, and want to talk on the phone, sure, cause that’s easy.

But, actually showing up?

Naw, that’s hard.

Sorry.

Fuck off.

I’m busy.

I don’t have time to read your texts anymore, and I’m not answering the phone when you call.

You want to tell me you looove me?

Fucking prove it, bitch.

Til then, I’m out.

I got no fucks to give.

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Drag Me To…

I went to my very first Drag show on Saturday!

*SQUEEE*

Ahhhh…that’s better.

I’ve wanted to see a live drag show (as in, Yaaass, Qween!) for years – ever since I watched the original 1978 movie version of La Cage Aux Folles. I saw this one late night on cable in my early twenties, & was immediately riveted.

This feeling was reiterated when I saw Too Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar.

And again by the Robin Williams and Nathan Lane version of La Cage Aux Folles, retitled in English to The Birdcage.

Needless to say, I’ve had a healthy fascination with Drag Queens for a long time.

Hairspray? I prefer the original version with Divine, Rikki Lake, Blondie’s Debbie Harry, and Sonny Bono. C’mon, I mean RIC OCASEK from The Cars was in it, fergawdssake!! (Yes, I’m a child of the 80’s, and not ashamed of my musical upbringing, thank you)

And, I was recently lead to Todrick Hall, who has the voice of an angel, and the attitude of…well…

Y’all should watch his YouTube video called Straight Outta Oz. It’s straight outta this universe amazing.

Of course, I love RuPaul, and discovered others through the Drag Race, like Bob the Drag Queen, Alyssa Edwards, Miss Fame, Kim Chi, and others too numerous to mention here.

Anyway, back to the Drag Show.

It was put on as a fund raiser by a local Relay For Life team, and they called it “Cancer is a Drag”.

It was 4 hours of knock-down, drag-out (pun totally intended) hilarity and fun.

I didn’t want to leave my seat the whole 4 hours, even to pee, for fear I’d miss something!

And the Queens and Kings were amazing! They lip synced, they joked, they played games & got the audience revved up and involved.

I was blown away.

And, I can’t wait till they come back.

I just want to hug them all, tell them how much they’ve given me, how brave and inspiring I find them, that they can be so OUT LOUD, and UP FRONT right in people’s faces! Especially in conservative places like the city and state I live in.

(North Dakota’s a red state, y’all, and sometimes it’s so conservative it’s claustrophobic)

So, here’s the best of the pictures…I know they’re not the best, but when you’ve got #QWEENSINMOTION…well, you do the best you can.

These were not all of the performers, but I wasn’t able to get great pictures of everyone – a lot of the pictures I took came out blurry due to the dim lighting, the strobing light effects, & the constant movement of the performers. It was really difficult to get still shots!

I sincerely hope these ladies and gents know just how appreciated their performances were on Saturday, & they’re willing to do this again really soon. Because I’m kind of addicted to the whole experience, now.

Even though I ended up going to this alone, I never felt left out.

And that, was the most amazing part of it all.

Patterns

My life has followed a steady, predictable pattern since my divorce.

I meet someone, we talk, they seem great, they seem to really like me… A couple have even said they loved me. We’re sailing along at 30,000 feet, gliding on top of the clouds in clear blue skies, smiling and enjoying the ride.

And then – something happens.

Either they suddenly decide to leap from the cabin, yanking the ripcord on their parachute as soon as they clear the emergency exit, like D.B. Cooper, vanishing into myth, or

They suddenly have to change flights for “business”, and can never be bothered to make their way back to me, because I’m just not in “first class”, never minding that I spent my last dime on our tickets, or

the engines stall, the plane falls from the sky, and lands in ice-cold waters, all hands lost at sea, with me washing ashore on some deserted island, no one else in sight.

And once I’ve built my raft, and made my slow and weary way back to civilization… I find out they got picked up by some luxury cruiser 5 minutes after the crash, have been drinking margaritas & have forgotten I ever existed.

Something inside of me is feeling as though maybe I’m not meant to find love again.

That maybe I’m meant to spend the rest of my life flying solo.

Maybe my pattern is the “missing man” formation… Only the one missing… is me – and everyone else flies on without me.

When Betty Cracked Bobs to the Surface

The office gets treats today

Cinnamon biscuits with homemade powdered sugar frosting.

(One pan down, one to go, and I swear I’m not taking any home)

I’ve been in a definite “Betty Cracked” mood, lately, feeling the urge to bake, but with no one to bake for.

And I sure as hell don’t need those sweet, baked, gooey, usually chocolate…calories, for myself.

So, today the ladies at the office get the fruits of my baked brain.

My depression is still there, and I had a flare-up of extra-heated irritation at work today. I’m still clenching my teeth, and honing for a cigarette, but I’m working on it.

Head down, nose to myself, music on…leave me to figure it out.

I need to go home, clean the house, turn the music. Up LOUD!! And bake something else.

But, again, I don’t need the results.

Maybe my kids need to come home & relieve me of the cookies I don’t need, that I know are going to get put in that damned jar on the counter within the next couple days.

Fuggghhh….

The Ghost In The House

Just this week…

I’ve had an electric bill delivered to my mail box, with my address, but not my name on the envelope.

I wrote “Return to sender, no such person at this address” on it & threw it back in the mail.

And – 

Today, when I got home from work, there was a package on my front step, delivered by UPS, that had my address, but someone else’s name, and a COMPANY NAME on the box.

I had to call UPS to have a driver return & pick up the box.

Twice in one week?

Maybe the ghost in the house is me…..

Just Some Thoughts

I’m still not processing things very well.

I sit in silence most nights, reading. I haven’t even been working out, even though I know I should, I just don’t have the motivation. I come home from work, & I immediately burrow under my blanket with my Kindle & dig into whatever I’m currently reading, only pausing to eat, shower, & go to bed. 

Maybe taking a short break for a phone call, if one happens to come through. 

But, there’s no spark, no gumption, no fire of get-up-and-go there, right now. 

I’m on the down side of depression, with a large slice of anxiety mixed in. 

I feel numb, most of the time, as though I’m no one. Nothing. Nothing matters, nothing changes, and no one sees it.

I hide, I camouflage very well within my masks. It’s a game I learned a long time ago, and I’m good at it.

No one knocks on my door.

The ones who call are all long distance, so they don’t see the day-to-day emotional distance I’ve erected between myself and the rest of the world. 

The locals don’t call.

There are some, that only know me through here, anymore, even though they are local. The only time they think of me is if I write here, but, then I fade from their thoughts as quickly as the words vanish from view off their screens.

I am transitory entertainment…

There are days when I feel like a drive through. You pull up, receive an order, a dose of whatever’s on the menu for that day…and drive on. You don’t look back or wonder about how the girl in the window is getting along. You’ve gotten what you came for, & you’re done. 

Moving on.

Everyone is always moving on.

I sit in the window, watching, expressionless, waiting for the next car.