Seeing a production of Shakespeare in a maximum security prison went well

Again. This is the second time I’ve gone (to the same place). I saw Much Ado about Nothing in 2014, then this past Tuesday evening I saw A Mid-Summer’s Night Dream. It was SO good. I mean you can really tell they get a year to practice, and that they really put their all into it.  A few of them have been at this for over two decades, so as you can imagine they’re pretty talented by this point. I haven’t laughed that much at a production of anything, like that “my face hurts from this/wedding day” type of smiling.

Then I made the mistake of reading their crimes online. And like…why does the human brain condone murder but never any sex crimes? Like I get it I guess, but I’m an inquisitive person, I’d like to know. But then all I could think about it how each of those crimes happened…and how there’s like fodder for at least five good books, between all of them…but…what do I do, steal their bios? That seems immoral, somehow. I already haven’t been able to donate to their cause yet, despite having gone to see them. I was literally a freeloader. I’ll donate when I can, I swear. I need to because they’re doing King Lear next year, and I’ll probably want to go then as well. Kind of bummed I missed Julius Caesar.

But now that that’s done, I don’t have too much on the agenda by way of things to look forward to. Between my birthday and the funeral and the play, I have 4 vacation days left for this year. Sigh. Not that we were going to be able to afford to vacation anywhere. Plus I get weekends off so I can always do a one night thing, but again, can’t afford it anyway.

Well, this week I had a fucking break down (at home) and it was from a pretty pathetic source. I mean I found out, as I was driving us home on Wednesday from the prison (354 miles from my home), that I was not pregnant, again. I mean we haven’t been trying for too long but you still get hopeful, don’t you? I do. It’s in my nature. But anyway. So maybe it was partially that. But on Thursday I discovered that my husband had spent more $ on gas than I thought, and it resulted in us not having enough $ in our checking account (it’s the only place we have $, I spent all of my on-hand cash and maxed my one credit card just to go to the play and back) for me to get lunch on Friday. I’ve been going out to a relatively cheap restaurant around my work with a coworker every Friday for over two years now. Lately, a different coworker has always joined us, and this Friday a fourth person AND the new intern were planning on coming along as well. This was all fine with me, but this made it impossible to get out of going to this lunch, after we’d planned it all week and such. And I literally did not have the money. Not in cash, or even change, or available to charge on a credit card, or in the bank. DO you realize how humiliating that is, at my age? Like all of my bills are paid up, and we had food to eat at home, but I had nothing to spare and no graceful way of getting out of lunch with my coworkers, either. I know I could have asked one of them to spot me, but that would involve a level of humiliation and embarrassment I’ve been feeling my entire life, that I don’t care to relive, at any cost.
Luckily, while I was freaking out (and by that I mean just crying, lying alone on our bed) my husband took back the empties we had on hand, which came to more than enough cash to cover my lunch (we don’t go anywhere extravagant, but I had $5 left, which isn’t enough for anywhere these days, I needed at least $10). So as pathetic as it was, it really did make me feel better because I didn’t have to relive a bevvy of unpleasant emotions I’ve known since childhood.
So that’s the level we’re still at, if you were wondering. Luckily I’ve been able to afford my pole classes, which are $18.75 a piece, if you buy 4 at a time. It’s only once a week, but then I work on stuff at home, and I actually am getting better! It’s so amazing to be like..wow..I track actual progress in myself….and you’re excited over what your body can do, not what it looks like (I stole that from a meme, lets be honest), AND whenever I’m doing pole, it’s all I’m thinking about. It requires all your focus, which makes it relaxing because you can completely concentrate on it…yet still work out. Yes, I’m very stoned when I go to class. Sometimes I wonder if they can smell it. Probably. Whatever, it’s not that weird of thing anymore, especially down here.
But my husband has only received 2 paychecks this season so far, so I haven’t been able to get very far ahead with things. But, he wants to quit this job, which I mildly support, but I will miss when he was making slightly more money than me (he works many more hours than me, at a lower rate per hour), but I don’t like his job now. But, at the same time, in the past he’s always taken his sweet ass time getting a new job, and I just don’t make enough to support both of us and pay the rent. I make enough if the person I’m with makes roughly what I make, that puts us slightly above the median wage for our area. But anyway. It’s expensive being poor, let me tell you.

Other than that, and my pole success, I’m still plugging along, as always. Still haven’t seen my mom since last October. We email every day that she works, though, so I still communicate with her a great deal. Perhaps even moreso than if we saw each other in person. Who’s to know? Who’s also to know when this will end, or how? I’m uncertain, but sometimes just leave things up to…idk like fate? Chance? Destiny? Idk. Whatever you want to call it. Random chaos? Whatever you want.

What I don’t leave up to chaos is my writing. Though to be honest I’m kind of off kilter with that as well. The funeral last week and the play this week were kind of draining. I’m always wondering why I don’t get anything done writing-wise on the weekend when I have the whole damn day off. But here i am, at 12:20 pm on Saturday and i haven’t even opened the document.

Also I’ve been filled with misgiving about the way I’ve been going about my current process, of editing on my lunch breaks and writing evenings/weekends. Because all of the writing advice online seems to not encourage skipping around like that, or editing while you’re trying to write. So unless I want to write original material on my lunch break (which, due to the nature of my work, would HAVE to happen in my car, and my laptop is too big, it wouldn’t fit well in the space I have, due to my height and tiny-car-possession) I have to forego using my lunch break for artistic things. I could go back to reading at my desk, I guess. I wish there was a place where I could write on my laptop inside…but there’s not. It would get weird and invasive real fast, and those are like my least favorite things.

Anyway. I should wonder why I waste the weekends. I got up around 9:30am, which is very late compared to the 4:30 or 5:30am that I usually get up. Then I immediately cleaned up the house and did the dishes, cleaned the kitchen table and counters, random small things like that, and I’m about halfway done with laundry. And I got really high, duh, because it’s freaking Saturday, and I’ve been pounding black coffee like always, so I feel REALLY high by this point, so I felt compelled to blog. Which I guess is good. I don’t have anyone in my life to talk to about this shit. There’s my husband, and I do talk to him about a lot, we’re definitely not into keeping anything from each other anymore, even shit like when we want to fuck someone we know from work, or whatever, but sometimes I need to talk ABOUT him, you know? And I do talk to my mom about some things, like financial issues, but then she just tells me how well she can commiserate, which I know is true, and then I feel bad, so I try to not mention it. And I don’t tell her about any other issues until long after they happen if at all because I don’t want to stress her. So I just tell her about random stuff going on, she seems to enjoy it. And I have a best friend, but besides the few times a year we see each other in person we don’t talk a ton which is fine and all I understand she’s busy but still, the avenue to talk about issues isn’t there.
But, an outlet is an outlet, right? I’ve told you-all some pretty  weird messed up shit in my life….but definitely not all of it. I don’t know if I ever will. I don’t know if that’s the plan. Yet. I never really know the plan until I’m upon it. Maybe that attitude is to blame for my financial woes. Idk.

Anyway, that’s what’s up in my life right now.

Do you ever notice a WEIRD pattern of behavior in yourself…and you’re like, where the fuck did this come from? Like…I’ve had multiple total freak outs…in MANY different types of doctors’ offices….and that’s literally the only place anything like that has ever happened……

I’ve never told anyone that.

So. Feel special. I guess.

I don’t care if people know. Maybe it’s nothing and I’m just weird…but sometimes….there’s like…..a certain hysteria to what’s upsetting me, it freaks some people out because it can bring about REALLY strong emotion really really quickly (my boss learned)..and…..I don’t quite know….what the fuck is causing it….but it’s INCREDIBLY upsetting just to write about now.

And you’re like…oh…yeah….that sounds normal. Along with…everything else. But anyway.

I should be off so I get some actual writing done today, not this stupidly long diary. I’m sure I’ll post another pole video tomorrow.

~Cassie

If you’re proud of your bruises, you’re either demented…or a pole dancer

Or both. Mwahaha. Anyway, yeah I’ve been getting better. I’m sorry I’m not yet affluent enough to afford video-hosting on my WordPress – BUT if you want to see how I’m progressing  – it’s on my Twitter right now, two pretty short videos, my handle is @CassieAnonablog.

I work tomorrow like usual, then Monday night we’re leaving for Kentucky, Shakespeare Behind Bars is Tuesday night! The plan is to get to the hotel Tuesday morning and check in and sleep until we get up to get ready for the performance. I might see people from my graduate school, I might not. Either way I’m excited for a lot of driving for something enjoyable rather than an emotionally heavy funeral.

I didn’t even get into it with you guys, but my husband kind of lost his shit at the hotel, on our way to the viewing before the funeral. When I said “We parked by this door” in a not even rude or mean tone, I was just trying to exit the hotel using the door nearest my car, my husband LOST his shit. He stormed ahead of me out the hotel door and punched the brick wall outside about 7 or 8 times.
Yeah. Of course. Okay sure I had been somewhat edgy/bitchy, but it wasn’t on purpose, and I was exhausted and I drove us all the way down there, and sometimes I don’t do well in family situations because I don’t really have a family of my own anymore, like as in the one I came from. I won’t say I wasn’t partially to blame, but it’s just the fact that he takes a bad situation and makes it a volatile one, where the threat of self-harm is SO real from him. In fact he totally ruined the night after the last time we went to Shakespeare Behind Bars, three years ago. But we were both very sleep deprived and VERY drunk when all that happened. Since that won’t be the case this time, I’m not super concerned about our outcome this time.

But anyway I want to go write more before I run out of energy for the day, because I’m about to have a tiring few days, but they’ll be fun.

Watch me do really basic pole dance spins, on my Twitter because WordPress makes you pay extra to host videos…because of course.

~Cassie

It’s like I need to blog, so I hope you’re happy

I literally don’t have the time for you, WordPress, but I was driving home today and I couldn’t figure out why I was in such an angry fucking mood. The same thing happened to me at work today. I was like well I haven’t blog-complained in like two weeks…maybe that’s it.

To be honest my 30th birthday really sucked except for the fact that I got to hang out with my bestie, which was awesome. But like the brewery and the bookstore we went to both sucked, I didn’t have the energy for the club and she can’t smoke weed so that was an obnoxious hassle. Nothing makes you realize how deep your stoner level is than when you’re SO irritated from two days of having to smoke in the other room.
I wish I could lie and say that part of me was hoping my husband would have had something special planned…I mean I knew it was a long shot, but…I mean milestone birthdays come once every 10 years….but whatever. We were broke ALL winter because he of course had to find a job that only works eight months out of the year. It’s a step up from unemployment but…not really…

Okay, see? I’ve been so fucking bitchy today. And I know why. My husband’s sweet Grandfather passed away last Friday, so we’re going to the funeral tomorrow. I’m just psyching myself out about having to see his family. Because, let me tell you, being as I am, at his family reunion, I’ve noticed patterns to behavior:
1) My husband will act much more on his impulsive, teenager-ish, annoying, long-winded impulses. The way he put it to me was that he “feels compelled to keep talking.” It’s SO annoying because….how can you not read people who want you to shut the fuck up? Like it’s like he reverts to his younger self because he spent so many young memories with his dad’s extended family at their reunion (always held at the same inn in Indiana, a place my father in law hilariously thinks is nicer than literally any other place the family could have a reunion. His words. They’re all so fucking German when it comes to that, they have this way of presenting their opinion as fact then using underhanded ‘logic’ to support why they’re making a ‘logical’ choice and you’re not, wait did I just describe fascism kind of?).
2) His mother becomes extra EXTRA if you know what I mean. She “feels like an outsider” at the reunion, I guess because it’s not her family (gee I don’t know how that feels) and because she’s a second wife and HER kids usually aren’t there, or if they go it’s for one day not the whole annoying week. Like a few years when we haven’t been there she’s called my husband really emotional/crying over how she’s being treated by everyone at the reunion. She’s been going for the last 25 odd years. These people.
3) His extended relatives are all cold but polite. They remind me TO A T of the Lutheran church quagmire into which I was fully and unwillingly immersed throughout my first 18 years.  The people would never be openly mean or hateful or rude, but BOY believe me when I say they find their special passive aggressive ways to convey their disgust with you as a human being. I am not exaggerating at all. I have vowed a few things, one is that MY kids won’t be able to have jobs until after high school, sweet internships aside, and they will NOT be involved with any youth groups. And these people are as white, middle class, middle of the road, conservative as the Lutherans from before. The high school I went to was certainly one of the reasons my father in law liked me at the start.
4) It’s a waste of time, I’m literally miserable the entire time, everyone acts like a horrible strung-out version of themselves, I never get to do any of the fun shit, or if I do it’s NOT fun because other people ruin it – for example one of the last times I was there I said something to ONE person about how I was going to go for a walk after breakfast, silently I added “alone”…..EVERY woman in the family ended up going with me. Then later that day I was meeting my husband by the beach (it’s a lakefront inn), I text him where to find me and wait…and wait…and end up spending the ONLY time we had available for the beach alone reading East of Eden because my husband was a few hundred yards away with some relatives of his, head in the clouds as always. Like it’s just always a HUGE suckfest from beginning to end and that is NOT because I go into it pessimistically. I purposely strive for the opposite.

But, all of that coupled with my last memory of the reunion and everyone at it….and how my husband acted. Like that was and is seriously one of my worst memories of him, because the was RIGHT before I told him I’d have to divorce him if he didn’t stop drinking, because he clearly wasn’t capable of controlling himself. I think that might have been the last “big event” before I did that. Of course, he’ll blame his behavior at that particular reunion in part on my situation with R, which was happening then. But….do you get to blame your drinking on shit like that? Like REALLY horrible things can happen to a human being, that doesn’t mean they’re not the one going out and buying booze every day to cope. I never did.

That’s one of my biggest flaws I’m SUPER fucking arrogant about the things I have (in my mind) earned the right to be arrogant about. There’s not controlling it. I know they say arrogance breeds from insecurity…but insecurity, stemming from a lack of security, like while growing up, like you weren’t at all taught to value yourself, somehow? Yeah, that sounds right. So that just proves my point more.

Well, I guess I feel better. Hopefully my exposure to the asshats tomorrow is short-lived. They do this LONG, drawn-out, long, pointlessly long, group hugging/group goodbye/group send off, DID I MENTION HOW LONG IT TAKES, and it makes me want to cut myself with a butter knife because you have to hug THEM ALL. I hate it so goddamned much. My fuck how I wish my husband could feel how much I dread being around these people. Who he thinks are great. Because he’s trusting and dense like his parents. I find it endearing in my husband, though. I mean, he has a vicious cunt like me around, so I don’t think anyone’s taking advantage of him….least not when I have my way. Best example, my dysfunctional sister in law.

Wow since dysfunctional is annoying to type, from here on in my husband’s two sisters are Dys and Able. Able sums up the other one real nice. I mean she can also be a bitch, but that’s never been reason enough for me to dislike someone.

So IDK if Dys is going to be at the funeral, SHE’S not a member of that family though of course she sat in on those family pictures at the wedding….and her own (the mom’s side) it really irritated me. But, I pray she isn’t going…..she’s just fucking bad juju man, like the personification of spoiled milk. I just can’t. It’s straight disgusting how reliant and codependent Dys was when I met my husband.

And the reason why I do what I do works is because I don’t like command my husband to do anything, I don’t even tell or suggest….I point out. It took VERY little outlining for him to see how little an impact he made on Dys’s decision making….yet she still called him for his advice EVERY DAY. She HAD to call him every night when she was driving home from working a shift at the strip club, and tell him all about the horrible shit she’d done or just how horrible her life was. One time she called him because there was a can of Dr. Pepper in her fridge and she wanted to drink it and she needed my husband to talk her out of drinking it. THAT is the level of annoying I receive from Dys.

So I’m dreading tomorrow and am in a horrible mood. But i guess this helped.

 

Isn’t it funny how you could read this and be like…wow this is definitely a predator slowly isolating their spouse from family. I know that’s what bad people do, because it’s what my father constantly tried to do, with extended family and friendships, for my mother and my brother and I. It’s because it’s easier to try and control someone if no one is around to call you out on it/convince them you’re abusive/help them escape/etc.

The difference is I’m pretty self aware (see, arrogance) and also control is NOT my end game. The end game is being with someone I don’t feel like needs controlling because they’re functional on their own. Truly this is not too much to ask.

So tonight we’re driving three hours to a hotel, sleeping, going to the 10am funeral, then hopefully leaving by 2pm at the latest so we get home about like a regular work day, because it’s back to work on Thursday like nothing happened. SO pumped.

Gah I’m a bitch.

Anyway

~Cassie

30th birthday/420 weekend recap

The title says it all. It was great seeing my best friend for longer than three hours between her driving from her place on her way to her mother’s. She got here around 12pm on Thursday. But then she was gone from like 1-4, so I’ll count from then on. We went to a grocery store to stock up on the random things i needed to make Mai Thais (then, in total this weekend, we made one mai thai, I made her one at the end of the night with almost no rum in it…because we’re old now…anyway) and this fun alcoholic coffee drink I like making. Then when my husband got home from work on Thursday around 7 we went to a brewery by me that was disappointing. But then we came home and ordered astoundingly good pizza from a specialty award-winning one-location-only pizza place by me. So that saved it. Then we went to bed after a few more drinks.

Then Friday on my actual birthday we got up somewhat early, after my husband had left for work, she and I went to a breakfast place I’ve always wanted to try, but it’s always so busy I never try to get in on the weekends. That’s the first picture. What’s hilarious, what I didn’t notice happening at the restaurant but my bestie did, was that there was a couple sitting near us, and the girl got jealous/mad because either the guy said something about us/one of us being hot, or she caught him staring at us, because she said really loudly, in a voice meant for us to hear it (I didn’t hear it because we’d just gotten our food and I was like…devouring that…) she said “Oh that girl? Right over there by that waiter with the tattoos? Oh, she’s too gothy for ME.” Idk which one of us she meant, my bestie has dark hair, but I have a bunch of rando ear piercings.

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See, I told you we were real cute. We always have been! Anyway….I LOVE how, even a little hungover and unshowered, we’re still making this rudeass person in the breakfast place petty as hell. Mwaahaha bone structure.

Then part of Friday was spent running the boring errand of getting my paycheck from work and taking it to the bank, because LORD forbid we have direct deposit…..Anyway.

Then we went back to my place for a few hours. BFF got some cardio in, because God forbid she not do that for one day. Then she and I got ready. Then around 4pm we hit up a book store I’ve always been meaning to look into, but never got around to going to because they close at freaking 5pm. It was a disappointing book store, to say the least.
Then we went back to my place to wait for my husband. He gets home from work around 7pm. Then, we finally got to the Mexican place I wanted to hit up for dinner around 9. Then we’re there until almost 11pm.
I’d wanted to get all done up and hit up a gay club, like I told you guys, but then I was REALLY tired by the time we got home from the restaurant, I was like I don’t want to go pay cover just to buy expensive drinks and want to come home the whole time. So we only took only more pic:

 

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Then Saturday morning she left to go with her aunt to visit her mother in our hometown. Then I did NOTHING on Saturday. Like I did our laundry. And I SAT on Tinder. That’s right, I started a Tinder again, this time under my alter ego, Cassie. That’s right. AND, I managed to nail down a situation that i think will work out.
I won’t say the guy’s name because I don’t want to be rude about confidentiality, but he lives near enough and is the same age as me, and is very interested in being the bisexual interloper we need for a MMF threesome. I mean, that’s what I really want out of life, and my husband is also very into the idea. And he likes the guy I found. BUT, the guy said he can’t meet up until the weekend after next, sigh, so we’ll see if things hold up that long. Sometimes it’s easy to forget about Tinder convos am I right?

I’m a little embarrassed I had SO much extra time off, and I didn’t write any more than normal…but oh well. I had a good time doing nothing, swiping left, slowly wooing this one cute guy for my husband and myself….It was a good time. He sent a dick pic and that’s a good situation, so that’s awesome.

So, the last thing I did this weekend was get done up to do some photos. As you know I have an at home pole, well enjoy below, one is me on my pole, I’m not rich enough to have the video support plan…sorry y-all. Then there’s another one of me because I did my hair AND make up and wore a fancy new pole outfit.

Then the last picture is me having a mai thai by myself, in comfy clothes, as i know my bestie suffers at her mother’s house in our hometown. I feel for people who still speak to their parents. That sounds real tough.

Anyway, I had a good 30th birthday and long weekend off from work, I really do appreciate that I had my best friend and husband with me for it, as I have for so many now. I cherish them both and my relationships with them. I’m sure my 30s will be great considering how fucking bad my 20s were by comparison, right?

Hope everyone had a good weekend. My birthday gifts were my pole, and like 12 edibles, and a new bubbler that makes me feel like a wizard when I use it.

Peace

 

~Cassie

 

“You’re gonna want to strap yourself in for this next one.”

Does anyone know what show that quote is from? Well, it’s a different context this time anyway. My BFF is on her way in right now, she should be here in like an hour I think. She’s ubering in from the airport because she knows me well and knows I do NOT want to drive to the airport, as I never have and I avoid stressful driving situations at all costs.

I have some time to kill before she gets here, and since I’m in a good mood and am getting really stoned (because she can’t smoke or be around it because she’s a doctor and all and they get drug tested like McDonald’s employees). And I wanted to tell you guys about this rando situation I once I had in my life.

But I realized, I never told you guys about Doug. And no, Doug is not his real name, but it’s close enough I’ll be able to remember who I was talking about.
I have what I like to think of as a very embarrassing history with him. We went to high school together. I was into him freshman year, and pretty much every year from then on. But, at the beginning of junior year he started dating this unattractive psycho in our grade. For the life of me I will never comprehend how this girl was always raking in dudes and I wasn’t. Like truly if you could compare our faces and bodies YOU would be stunned too. And don’t say it’s my abrasive personality, because HERS was worse. They were off and on all psycho like through junior and senior year, also I think after for a year or little less. Then all of a sudden, when I’m like 19, she’s engaged to someone else. I’m not saying I didn’t have things happen with other people, but i was always into Doug on some level the whole time. We had what I would call a mild flirtation going. We would talk on AIM. One time, I showed him a picture of my nipple piercings (when I was in high school, when he definitely was dating loonypants) and he said, and I quote, “Exquisite breasts.” It’s nice hearing, on any level, even in AIM.

So when I was 19, I do what anyone would do who was still hung up on this guy, once his ex SEEMED out of the picture, I started talking to him. This was the early 00s so we talked on AIM and on Myspace. This lead to eventual hanging out. We bonded a lot over smoking weed together, which I was already super into, so that was cool for me. In my defense, I always really liked this guy, in my mind he would be insane not to try and move on for real with me, when it was OBVIOUS things weren’t going to work out with you know who, despite her inability to actually let Doug go (SHE was free to be engaged to some dude she’d known for 4 months but if Doug showed interest in anyone she was quick to find some way to sabotage it. And he was like dying for any attention from her, because they had that weird fucked dynamic happening, so it would work).

So, Doug and I hung out, and got really stoned. This one time, we were alone at my apartment (I was 20, I had broken up with my terrible world of warcraft boyfriend about 9 months before that) we were really baked and we watched the movie The Number 23. After it was done, we had some sort of conversation that involved “what do you want to do now?” “I don’t know what about you?” “We could make out.” That last one (said by him) was almost a question.

Then, you know what happened. After awhile on the couch, HE suggested we go to the bedroom, but he did certainly ask. He carried me there. I can’t help it, I’m basic and female when it comes to how wet that shit gets me. I know it’s not fair to the MANY (most) men who couldn’t carry me any sort of distance. It’s not like I fit into the any sort of model-thin category, so I don’t expect men to have these unobtainable fitness abilities either. But…yeah….I mean I did weigh a lot less back then…but anyway…..

So yeah, we had sex once. but honestly the first time was disappointing. Because despite being the aggressor, if you will, when we finally got down to it, he was all “Should we really be doing this?”

Okay, I honestly had no idea what to think at this point I’d never had a guy get to like…the fucking point of insertion (sorry, graphic, sorry) and be like “Oh wait no this is a bad idea omg we should stop.” Like I’d only had sex with first idiotic jerk boyfriend (the one who took me to my senior prom but didn’t get me a corsage and then guilted me that me couldn’t afford to go to his prom because of mine, that’s the kind of guy HE was…) and then WOW boyfriend, and neither of them were sexually aggressive, at all, but they didn’t want to not do it when we finally were at that point I mean OBVIOUSLY I thought we should be doing what we were doing….I mean…yeah IDK.

I don’t remember what I said to him, that first time, but we had sex for like….2 minutes, then he lost whatever erection he’d managed to maintain. Then there was some REAL awkward getting dressed, made all the more awkward when he started touching and kissing me. I mean I wanted him to, but  I was also like…uuhhhh didn’t you just COMPLETELY puss out on me? I mean cmon. This is a frustrating situation, right?

So he left. We had a few more awkward sexual encounters at my apartment. Once, I recall donning a full lingerie outfit for him, one I’d specifically bought with the idea of seducing him. It was the most effort I ever put into getting a guy to bone before.

Now, looking back, I see how fucking pathetic I was. I really do. But, honestly, it wasn’t coming from a bad place. I liked Doug. I always had. I’d always been pretty up front with the fact that I liked him. Of course I wanted to sleep with him. I don’t mean to dwell on physical attributes, but this guy had a great dick. I mean just one of the ones that makes you want to put up with ALL their annoying/bad behavior (I had a similar issue, years later, with R). I really just did want to like be with him. But, at time went on, things got ABUNDANTLY obvious that nothing like that would ever happen.

What bothered me the most about all of this was that I couldn’t see WHY he wouldn’t be into me. I mean, like really….it confused me. It still kind of does. I still feel like I’m a solid catch. People should feel that way about themselves AND their significant other. I jokingly seriously told my husband his ability to grow good smoke put another huge one in the PLUS column. He needed another one over there. The other giant one is quit drinking for me. That’s pretty huge. But anyway back to someone who my husband reminded me of and that’s why I at first showed almost aggressive interest in my husband because I was like omg what if this is another Doug I can’t let this get all fucked and ruined somehow like that did. I have never told my husband this. But really if anything he should be grateful Doug was so shitty to me, I guess I deserved it?, because it made me REALLY cling to my husband when I met him. And look how that worked out…after like…7 shitty years….but anyway.

Two memories of Doug that stand out most to me. One good and one bad.

The good one. It was the winter when I was 20. He messaged me on AIM and texted me about hanging out (it was a Sunday night) which must have meant he was really in the mood, because hanging out almost definitely meant we’d bang, at this exact point in our situation.
I drove out to his house (his garage specifically, though to class it up a little, his garage was a makeshift den) which was a long, perilous drive in the winter. We pretty much got right down to it, but I remember sitting next to him on his couch, beneath a few blankets because it was the winter and it was a garage wondering how long he would wait to make the first move. It was awhile.
But that sex was the best. It was kind of like cliche movie sex in the sense that it took place transitioning from like five different positions and ended with him “unknowingly” coming inside me (condom broke….he acted like he didn’t notice until after we were done…but he kind of acted like things sure felt different…if you get my drift). Nothing happened, I was on the pill. But yeah the sex in his garage was the best.
My bad memory of him was almost that same winter. Everyone in the tri-county area was dry (as far as weed goes), but I managed to get some from a coworker who had ties with some dealer.
Doug found out I had weed, and could get more, via a random AIM conversation, which we had from time to time. He was also definitely hanging out with other girls as well by this point (it was easy to find out about back then, on social media). He makes plans with me faster than he’d ever done so in the past, and arranges to get $60 worth. I get his amount and mine from my coworker, and have it parceled out ($120 split evenly into 2 bags). Then, when he gets to my place to “hang out” (clearly only happening because I can get him weed) he hands me $40. And I was still too into him, I didn’t want to subtract what I could eyeball to be a third of what he was getting, but that’s what I should have done. but I didn’t want to be awkward or look like a bitch, so I just ate the financial loss. World of good it did me.

Then, we had sex I think once after i moved from that apartment into the house i was renting with a friend when I met my husband.

Truth be told, I was a total cunt to Doug via text like two different times. Both resultant of adderoll/alcohol/nicotine abuse, but I never told him that. Why? Would it really make a difference? Also he kind of deserved it.

Then, years after all that, after my husband and I moved downstate, his band was playing at a venue nearby and we went. He seemed happy enough to see me.

We did that a few other times, his band travels around the state quite a bit. I doubt they’ll ever amount to much, but anyway.

But then one time, I saw on Facebook that he was playing at a venue VERY near my house, so I proposed he stop by either before or after the show and smoke with us. Keep in mind, whenever we saw him at a show of his he always said something about how we should get together and smoke down. All of us still love weed. What a shock. It’s almost like weed’s the best.

But then the night of that show, after I’d already contacted Doug and he’d seemed like he wanted to do exactly what I proposed, I fell asleep on the couch and when my husband finally got home he couldn’t rouse me. But then Doug never contacted me either.

And then, THEN, I was like….ohhhhhhhhhh The slow realization of it all dawned on me.

He probably kind of hates me.

He strikes me as one of those guys who never gets over a slight.
But he’s also like a genuinely nice guy (when he’s not sexually entangled with you) so he always acted like he was happy to see me. Because it’s easier than being an asshole, it really is. I get him there.

I just feel like a total idiot, because I probably always came off as some clingy psycho.

Or at least, that’s how he treated me. And made me feel. I guess you’re not supposed to blame you emotions on other people…but seriously….

But now, I’m really trying to focus on the idea of Remembering the Lesson, not the Memory. It’s a smart idea to live by.

Truth be told, I always liked Doug. But, I can see why on his side he probably can’t stand me. So I just kind of feel bad, like just have the balls to tell me you don’t like me. I’m used to being mistreated so I like…don’t know what to do with it sometimes. Or i put up with it because I know I can.

Like, okay some of the insufferable shit I’ve done to him? In 2015, when I was strung out as fucking fuck on alcohol (this is when things started with R), I texted him about the whole situation. This was also the year I stopped speaking to and seeing my parents, ever. I was THAT sad and lonely and desperate, I texted Doug. I’m sure it must have pained him to sound sympathetic, when he probably thought I was getting what I deserved for being a crazy bitch. Or something. IDK. I’m trying to see it through his perspective but I find I can’t. Which is odd, because I can do that with most people.

But in some way I’m kind of proud of myself that I bothered to reach out to anyone. The fact that that two people I tried talking to more or less just rejected me, it reminded me of who I am. Things like that happened the few times I tried telling adults about what was happening. Do you realize how hard that is, for a child in that situation? If that doesn’t warp you, what the fuck will?
Being reminded of who I am came slowly, though. It wasn’t until I really accepted to myself that R was a complete human disaster and a waste of my time and energy and a drain on every part of me. I mean I’d always known that, but I also at one point had a good time with him, so it was hard to completely reject.

But now, I think about this habit I had/have where I’m like almost infatuated with the situation if I’m being treated like shit.

Like at almost 30 I’m just not getting to the point where that’s not the norm.

So anyway, that’s Doug. I hope he’s doing well. In some way I’d like to apologize for annoying him with my attention. I should have given it to someone smart enough to appreciate it.

~Cassie

Real quick though – don’t let the weather influence your mood…it’s the weather

Where I live, it’s been raining nonstop the past few days, and now the temperature keeps dancing just below freezing enough to freeze rain as it falls. Everything is covered in this really neat glass-like coating:

IMG_9313

 

Isn’t that cool looking? And EVERYTHING is covered in ice like that. I only went outside because I had pole class today. There was only 1 other student, and there’s always 2 instructors, so there was an even number of students and teachers, so that’s always cool. I guess some people stayed home because of the weather. I for one was outside scraping my car in gym booty shorts because I was not about to miss pole class. It’s once a week as it is. I have a pole at home, but having an experienced instructor is SO crucial. The pole videos on youtube aren’t my thing, and none of them include a warm up… but anyway

 

Isn’t nature doing cool shit right now? Although today is a day that I am even more grateful than normal that I’m not on social media. I would be wasting so much time scrolling through everyone I know whining about the weather, talking about how they thought it was the middle of April…not January….bleh bleh bleh. I can’t stand whining. And I don’t know, I guess I’m such sturdy German stock, and I’m from such a dismal cold weather state…it just doesn’t faze me. If anything I kind of find it exhilarating. Plus, like I pointed out, it looks awesome.

So, my weekend was fairly normal, pole class on Sunday, whole lot of writing and house stuff on Saturday.

But this week is extra fucking special. I go in tomorrow and Tuesday to work like normal, but then I’m off Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. AND, as an extra fun bonus, my best friend (yes, the one I always talk about) is flying in on the morning of the 19th and is leaving my place to visit her mom on the morning of the 21st. She and I haven’t hung out for that long in a row since I spent a weekend at her place in Chicago two summers ago. Then before that it’d been the wedding. Usually we see each other a few hours when she passes through on her way to visit her parents. So this is extra freaking thrilling. I’m off of work 5 days in a row, and two of those I’ll be hanging out with my best friend. So I’m really excited about that. Now I’m going to have spend all of Wednesday cleaning my house so I’m not embarrassed by the state of it while she’s here, but other than that, this is going to be tight. Then…of course, I turn 30 on Friday…yikes.

I have a few things planned, like there’s a brewery by me that I’ve always wanted to try, and a breakfast place that’s always too busy on the weekends but is supposed to be legendary. There’s two different book stores I’ve always wanted to check out. Also one of the nights, probably Friday night, I want to go to a gay video bar in a downtown near me that I’ve been to before. Gay bars are the best. The dudes are usually nice, or at most just ignore you. No one is all rapey or gropey on the dance floor,  but they’ll still totally dance with you. Some of them buy you drinks because you’re like…there and a girl or something….idk it’s a great time. And they always have like softcore porn playing on a few different screens. It’s fantastic. So hopefully we can do that too.

Hopefully she doesn’t want to go shopping. I hate shopping. Don’t get me wrong I like having the stuff I get from shopping…but I don’t like being in stores. I wonder why….

 

So, this will be a fun work week because it’s so short. Then, fun long weekend.

Then, hopefully, Shakespeare Behind Bars just a few weeks after that.

Besides pole dancing, I haven’t done anything fun in quite a awhile, because we couldn’t afford to do anything, so this will be cool.

Anyway, sorry to anyone having to witness weather-whiners on social media. Big peeve of mine.

 

Peace

 

~Cassie

Superstition is for idiots

I’m not stranger to bad things, but they can’t be caused by a day. When my husband worked at a cemetery, he was convinced something bad was going to happen, just because he was so associated with death and death planning, etc. I had to out and out tell him that nothing could be mystically caused by his employment. Working somewhere doesn’t invite death into your life. Like, I believe in certain spiritual things…but…not that. Nor is any given number unlucky.

Anyway, what I really wanted to write about was something my husband said last night. Many times I go to bed before my husband. He’ll always come in and say goodnight to me when I do so, which usually involves spooning with me for awhile. He accidentally falls asleep with me all the time. Which is part of his charm.

Well last night we were doing exactly that. I said something about how lying there like that, before falling asleep was the best. Then my husband said, “If anything ever happens to me, I want you to know that I’ll still always be right here.”

And, hearing it last night made me cry. Writing it now is making me cry a great deal more. The idea of that memory coming back to truly haunt me, it’s enough to make one cry. At least me.

Because, I mean, what made the problems we used to have so devastating that my husband is really all I have. I mean, think about how alone I am, except for him. I mean it’s all right because we really are one of those couples who spend all of their spare time together, and we enjoy it. In an almost embarrassing (in the sense that it sounds SO trite) my husband really is a dream of mine come true.

Why? How can I say that, knowing what you, my astute readers, know? Well, see, when kids deal with intense mental/emotional stress/trauma, if there’s one odd fringe side effect its the concept that they tend to be very realistic about their expectations of life. Which is why my brother’s sense of entitlement REALLY confuses me….but that’s a discussion for a different time. Plus, remember how I said TV raised me and helped me (along with literature) to conglomerate my own mental parents who raised me, because my real ones were…well…I’ve told you…? Well, when you grow up in the 90s (I was obviously born in 88, I’ve been going on about my 30th birthday IN ONE WEEK for awhile now….and yes ahahahahah my birthday is 4/20 isn’t that ironic, by the way the grow turned out great) you learn a lot about how relationships between white people can go wrong. I recall thinking that I wouldn’t care what random problems I had with my significant other….as long as I had nothing like a relationship my parents had. They NEVER did anything together, in fact it was like they avoided each other as much as possible, unless my dad was high/drunk an in a talking mood, then he’d either go into her part of the house and turn the TV off to lecture her, or just call her out into his room with a TV, where he’d preach to her just like he did to his kids, with the TV on mute so he could be heard but keep watching it. But anyway. I always thought I could handle anything as long as I got to be with someone who genuinely loves me. Because I saw, firsthand, so painfully, what happens when people who do not fucking love each other AT ALL stay married. My mom told me she told my dad, word for word, “It’s like you hate me.” And he really does act like that, like literally all the time. Like he is constantly criticizing her, or just ignoring her, not paying attention or repeatedly checking his watch whenever she’s trying to talk to him. She just wants a happy relationship. He’s done the worst things a spouse can do to their partner. And still she stayed. She’s always trying. She’s such a (passive) nice person. EVERYONE says so. She has a horrible time at work because her coworkers are shitty people who know how to manipulate/take advantage of her, and they fucking do. Predators are everywhere man. I know because I dealt with absolute garbage people at jobs of mine in the past. People who  think because I don’t react with extremely inappropriate and immature behavior, like they do, I must be SO easy to push around, to mock (especially to my face). Plus like…I’m the right level of attractive, would-be alpha females (looks-wise) are going to see me as a potential threat, best to take her down a few pegs.

I think that’s how I make people feel. It’s something, something that I do that makes people treat me like shit. And not appreciate me. AT ALL. And take me COMPLETELY for granted. Like you have no idea how horribly I let people treat me when I was younger. I don’t know how to describe the exact cause of it, but I feel like it has something to do with a chaotic/unstable foundation. Good thing I was smart.

But anyway as you can see, I witnessed a living nightmare every day of my life because of my parents. My only ally would have been my brother, but he had his own reasons to be a shitty person,  I guess. And, I was NOT good at maintaining relationships as a child, with friends, or later on with guys. So I always thought if I had a REAL marriage one day, one where we loved each other…I would get to see what a happy home/family could be like.

I mean that’s really all I want, or ever wanted, out of life. The whole being a writer thing too, but that’s always just been a part of me, like since I learned to read. Now here I am, experiencing it. I mean granted we don’t have kids yet, but I’m 29 I’m sure I’ll have at least 1. Hopefully 2, because I never liked only children when I was a kid.

But, to be honest, I’m just really afraid most of the time, that something horrible is going to happen. Like I feel like I definitely have cherophobia.  I have no idea if that’s real, because I’ve only read about it on Pinterest.

Or I feel like I shouldn’t let myself be too happy, because it won’t let/is going to get ruined. Well, I guess, if I think about it…it’s because when I was young EVERYTHING got ruined. It was a power move on my dad’s/brother’s part. Maybe that’s what’s up with that.

 

 

But anyway, this was not to go on about my childhood again, it was to let you know that despite the many horrible memories, the terrible things I talk/write about on here….my husband and I do truly love one another. We’re both incredibly fucked up too, so there’s that.

 

Anyway, gotta jet.

 

~Cassie