Man Up

I have often said that I hate it when I man refuses to act like... a man. This has been the biggest issue I have faced in "getting out there."

Sarah and Katie had a person picked out for me that had been deemed worthy. Shortly thereafter, Sarah informed me that this individual was no longer a proper candidate. Apparently there were certain parts of his past that he had been keeping from his friends. The guy had a prior DUI which no one had known about, that is, until he received his second a few months ago. I can kind of sort of, if I stretch it a bit, put past the first DUI in the thinking that he was just a kid and perhaps he had learned his lesson. But a second, who is dumb enough to get a second, a second DUI?

I have learned as of last night that Katie and Sarah have picked out another. While telling me all about this supposed man, Alex (Katie's hub) brought a picture up on his phone for me. We shall see what happens with this one. In addition, Frannie has been on the hot pursuit of her future BIL. Every so often I will get a call, "I've met this guy that would be perfect for you. I like him better than the last one."

Then there is a guy that I have been friends with forever. I mean forever. He is the sweetest guy you will ever meet. Very respectful of others, yada, yada, yada. His major downfall... I am more of a man than he is. He is far too sensitive. Now, I do understand that I am going to need someone that can complete my "yin" or "yang," that is, pick up where I leave off in the emotions department. I will admit that I am a harsh person at times with impossible standards. However, I have always said that I never expect others to to do something that I couldn't do myself.

But, is it too much to ask a man to "MAN UP?" I don't think that this should be an impossible task. When Frannie met her husband, it was six months following Tara's death. He basically had to "deal" with it the moment that he met her. A guy I dated once told me that it was too much drama for him. So, basically he was telling me that I was a better man than him when I was 15, when Tara died, than he was in his adulthood. Wow!

Its because of this that I get so discouraged. I hate it when I go out with high, optimistic, expectations, and get sadly sort changed.

Um... There is no adequate explanation.

The last few days, I have been experiencing the oddest dreams. A few nights back, I dreamt that I had the cutest baby alive. The cutest. If that wasn't enough, he was super smart and did the funniest things. The odd part, aside from the thought of me having children, was that the father was someone that while I knew him, I could never, and I mean never picture myself having children with him. We would talk about, names, he would do the usual freak out, we're not ready for that, but all the while, I honestly couldn't picture it. So why is it that I am able to dream it, particularly now since this person has neither been a part of my life nor I have communicated with him in the longest time?

Then, last night, I had a dream that I died. That's right, I died, but not alone. I took someone with me. Oddly enough, me and the person from the previous dream had gotten into an altercation. I screamed my head off and then passed out. While falling to the ground, I hit something or my head did at least, and I died. I have no idea how he died, but trust me, he did.

What's stranger, is that I came back. I was a phantom and I was visiting my mother, like nothing was peculiar about that. I asked her what happened and she told me that I had fainted due to a syndrome. Apparently my subconscious mind creates new syndromes and names them. Its too funny. Then, I decided to see how this other person had died and tried to find him. Where did I? In hell. My mind had permanently condemned him to hell. A hell where all you do is make license plates.

The really disappointing thing is that when the dream was reaching its climax, in both instances, I woke up. When all was about to be revealed, and that it would all (hopefully) come together and make perfect sense, I woke up. I WOKE UP! Its the most inconvenient clock work; right at 3:00 am my eyes flew open.

Its like the Sandman from hell comes and visits me on a regular basis and broke my internal clock just for kicks and giggles.

Double Edged Sword

Last night in class, I hit a mental blockade. Something that I would have never thought would be an issue. My job is interfering with school. Now I know what you are saying: "But Mere, you are in school to learn what you already do." And you would be right. However, because I am so in tune with my job, one simple assignment is proving to be near impossible.

I have to draft a complaint. A routine task I use to do at my prior place of employment. I understand the importance of drafting a tight, no "extras," complaint. A complaint that will produce either an admission or clear denial. No wishy washy, "no knowledge sufficient" denials (fyi: they basically serve as the legal "foul ball.") I understand the purpose being so that if you receive a clear denial you can later nail them in the interrogatories. "Please set forth all facts which form the basis of you denial..."

Here is my problem... Because I have been working for a firm that specializes in civil defense, I have a hard time writing a tight complaint. My immediate thought is, "I can't put that in there. There is no wiggle room for the Defendant. How are they going to get out of that one?" I know that this is probably a bonus; that I could take my hesitations and flip them into a checklist per se. However, I have been at my job for so long now, that its against my programming. That's right, I am programed to provide you with little to no definite answers. If you want a straight forward, "Why did you" answer, you will not get it from me. Or at least not in writing.

I am trying to face this as a challenge. That after I write this "bear trap" pleading, I will have to really push myself to come up with some valid defenses for my Answer. Do a complete nose dive into OCGA and Brown's. Watch out law library, I am about to set up camp.

P.S. To my fellow P/L students... I actually used the word "conflate" in a depo index yesterday. Woot!

Formal UPL Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, form, nor fashion providing or soliciting to the readers of Wear Sunscreen legal advice. This is simply a restatement of personal experiences in connection with a completely fictitious matter that has no real bearing on anyone or thing (except my GPA).

Day of the "F" Bomb

This morning was the first in probably 1 1/2 years. I slept in... unintentionally that is. My alarm either didn't go off or it did and gave up. I woke this morning to the sound of my phone ringing. My first thought was, "Who would be calling me at this hour?" followed by, "Why is the sun out so early?" As I walked over to my dresser to grab the device, I caught a glance of those demontic little red numbers.

I answered the phone with the loudest f-bomb I have ever utter... in my life! Don't worry, I knew who it was calling me. Jacki apparently was experiencing the same type of morning. Her son forgot his coat, then when she got to the school to hand it over, he informed her that, in addition to his coat, also forgot his homework. Take two.

I haven't felt that rush of panic searing through my entire body in so long. I was impressed with myself though. I got here in time to open the office. However, troubles were still on the horizon.

After about an hour or two, while still working on this statement of material facts, I get a call from Andrea stating that her brief was eating itself. "I'm not kidding!" I immediately hung up the phone and made a mad dash down the stairs. I believe I was actually airborne for the entire trip down. I ran into her office and there it was, chomping away at itself. In absolute panic and seeing the look on her face, I reacted. I can't remember what I did, but I fixed it.

Hopefully, this day will go without any more f-bombs or absolute disasters.

Yankee Doodle Mere

Apparently my mother, dad, and brothers all agree that I am somehow turning into a carpet bagger. Now, I find this hard to believe considering that I was born and raised in the same county. When I left for college, I traveled further south, and I now live in the epitome of southern life "Dawg Country!" Furthermore, I was a debutante for crying out loud.

I asked what evidence they had procured for such nasty stereotyping.

My choice of noisy establishments to wind down the day? Simple explanation for that one. I work in an office. Other than the phone ringing and the sound of my typing, there isn't a whole lot that makes noise. I live my life in silence. Add in the fact that I do not have cable or internet at home, and its really like living in a vacuum. So, since I have all day with my thoughts, at the end of the day, I prefer to drown them out. What is so wrong about that? So what if I live my life backwards. That doesn't make me a yankee.

I still hold true all the "southern" traditions. I refuse to wear velvet before Halloween and after Valentines. I will not wear white shoes after labor day (although I do fudge on the whole open toes thing). Perhaps I don't exactly adhere to or prescribe to the purse matching the shoes thing, but that is more a generational difference than geographical. Due to my accent I cannot correctly say "oil", "boil", "foil." In fact, when I use to docent at an old plantation house in Jonesboro (yeah, yankees make great docents) the actual yankees that came down, use to make fun of me for my accent. So did my ex who was from St. Louis.

I am still at a loss of how my family could come to such a conclusion. My mother doesn't understand my infinity and love for NYC. But, she has never been there. She said that we two are more different that she had thought. Perhaps Mama, but, keep in mind that there is a 30 year difference here. If you were my age now, you may feel differently about the things that I love. You may have loved them as well. Also, I was raised by you, and you were raised by someone who, when they grew up still had buggies and carts and no electricity. Times, they are a changin' (at least according to Bob Dylan).

Don't despair my dear family. I am still that little southern bell, I just traded my corset and seven petty coats for trouser pants and a blouse. Just because I do things a little different and sometimes have a tendency to be "hard and cold," just think of me as your own steel magnolia.

Recover? From what?

Last night I was doing great at the gym. I ran for a really long stinking time and was thinking that I would do more. Then that little guy popped up on my shoulder and advised me that I was still planning on working out my legs, abs, and attending spin class in addition to the run on Saturday for which I paid. So, I took his advice and decided to hit that bright red "stop" button and went along my merry way.

Well, after I had finished all my planed exercises, I went to fetch my spin shoes and walked back towards the cycle room. When I rounded the corner, I immediately wanted to bolt in the opposite direction, but it was too late. She had already seen me.

The sub is a really nice girl, really, but her class is terrible. There was no energy at all, she says things as if they are polite suggestions. There is nothing polite about this class. This is a kick you in the butt (metaphorically speaking), work harder than you have ever worked before in your life and sweat a river.

She kept on using terms too. I don't do terms, just yell at me to turn it up two, three or four times. Tell me I am not working hard enough. If you piss me off enough, I am bound to either (1) work and push harder out of anger or (2) chunk a bike at your head. Now, since its spin class, which tires you out, the chances of two happening are slim to none, so yell dang it.

Furthermore, you have got to mix it up lady. There are no mountains, sprints or fast intervals. All she does are rolling hills and surges. That's freaking it. The music is just plain awful. I don't feel the surge coming when the music starts to pick up. Its more like a leisure ride in the park.

The girl next to me starting sharing my same thoughts. She informed me that she purposefully intends to skip Thursday's class and would see me Sunday.

I've decided that since I am running in the SPACE Race this Saturday that I would hold off on spin as well. I hardly broke a sweat while in there and really felt like it was a waste of time. If I hadn't needed to go home, I probably would have stayed longer at the gym and had another go on the treadmill.

Fashionable + Popular= Punk

This past weekend I was speaking with my mother. It started out as just a friendly little "catch up chat." You know, check in on the empty nesters now that the little one has finally flown the coup.

"Can I say something and have you actually hear it and listen?"


Oh boy, what did I do this time?


Apparently, and my parents have always had opinion on my hair and overall appearance, my mother thinks that I am in some way rebelling. "Okay, how do you figure?"


"Your hair always looks so good long and blonde. When everybody saw you at Workshop, they just 'ooh, and ahhed' over how pretty you looked. That hair cut you have now just looks so punk. It seems like there should be a pink or orange streak through it or something."


Really? I told her that I did listen and appreciated her honesty, but, honestly, I didn't agree with her. Its a bob, an angled bob. People have been "bobing" their hair since the 1920's. I can't recall anyone ever referring to those individuals, flappers I mean, as punks. Nor did they have mutli colored hair.


I just love how old fashioned my mother is. I really mean that though. She was practically raised by her grandmother. A person who was alive and could vividly recall the sinking of the Titanic. Although my mother was born in the 50's and raised in the 60's, you wouldn't think it.

Many times I just have to give her simple explanations to pacify her. "Well, Mama, its just too hot right now to have long hair, and it will grow out." I also pull this one too. "Its my head, its been my head my whole life, and unless you are willing to drive up here every morning and style it, I shall do what I want with it."

She then proceeded to scan and email to me a picture from Southern Living. When I asked her what that was all about, she told me that the girl in the pic was so beautiful, was a beauty queen and she looks just like me, but with long curled hair. In the back ground I could hear my dad yelling, "Its you, its you!"

She didn't like what I had to say. And I had to, just to be a jerk. "Mama, her hair is so big because it has to distract people from her wide nose and ugly face." Snap, crackle and pop.

She had just pulled a chord with me, and I had to retaliate.

Please don't think that my mother is a negative person. She is constantly telling me what an inspiration I am to her and that I am her hero for everything and that she is constantly talking about me to the ladies at work.

I love my mom, I just wish that I could bring her into the 21st century, or at least the latter half of the 20th. I am planning on having her come up soon, and when I do, she promised that I could take her to Republic and let them do her hair.

Muahahahahaha.

60 Sec on the Tufted Couch

Beware, you are about to enter the deep dark depths and regions of my subconscious.

Sunday morning I woke up crying, and I don't mean that I was crying in my dream (which I was), but I woke up and my face was wet and my eyes were swollen. Sarah said that she had heard me and thought that I was awake. Nope, sound asleep.

Now, how terrible does a dream have to be in order to make this heartless monster cry? Pretty bad.

I was in a room, like a conference room, and I was surrounded by just about everyone that I knew. There were people from work, people from the gym (including my trainers) and people from school. They were all criticising me for things that I had not done, or telling me that I was lazy or complacent, or that I wasn't doing well in school. I kept retorted back, "I have a 3.9, I've lost 36 pounds, I never sleep. What more do you want from me?"

I walked away and some how ended up in the copier room. One of the attorneys here walked up to me and just placed his hand on my back while I cried. Geez, even in my dreams I can't allow others to seem me cry.

On my drive home last night. I was trying to think it through and figure out what was bothering me. I know that something is because Friday night I went to sleep at 3:30 and woke at 5:30. Two hours of sleep is simply not sufficient. But no matter how much I tried, I just laid there starring at the ceiling and glancing at the clock every few minutes. Time almost seemed to just stop.

I think that I have it all sorted. I have worked so hard for everything that I have and continue to still do so much. Sarah N. is constantly asking me to take a rest. Jacki tells me to stop being so hard on myself. "You are a full time employee, you are a full time student, you work out everyday, and you are a full time daughter, sister, aunt, and friend. Breathe once in a while."

I think that I get scared sometimes that if I stop, someone might take all that away from me. I lost myself once, and I am so afraid that it will happen again, that I fight it, aggressively. I get home some nights and don't feel like doing a single solitary thing, but, I won't even pop in a movie or sit. I make myself change into workout clothes and get a move on. I don't actually sit down at home until I am ready to eat. I make myself be in a constant state of motion.

Even last night. I went straight to the grocery store before going home first. I cruised the isles and battled the students, who were doing their first shopping trip, for the last box of cereal. I patiently (okay maybe not) stood behind them while they blocked the entire isle debating over what kind of peanut butter they were going to purchase. Finally, after checking out and listening to the u-scan attendant explain things six times to one guy, I made it out of there and was finally on my way home. I opened the door and I did not sit until I had unloaded the car, put away the groceries, unpacked my bag, started a load of laundry, put away my shoes and got out what all I would need in the morning. I fed the cat, watered the plants and fertilized them, and set roomba out for a stroll. When I finally did sit, it wasn't for long. Just a hour later it was time for tea and bed.

This morning was just as bad. I got up, fed the cat, took my tea cup to the dishwasher, turned it on, started another load of laundry, picked out what I was going to wear, ate, set roomba out again, put the cat out, showered, made up my bed, got dressed and got my lunch items together and was out the door. I think that I might have even checked my e-mail during all that. I can't remember.

Could I be right though? Am I over compensating for fear that it will all just stop one day? Am I going to just run myself into the ground?

Generation Difference

Today we had a person come in for deposing. Well, with her she brought her three children. She asked me where they could hide out until they were finished. I told her that they could just stay in the lobby and I got them drinks and they plugged in their electronic handheld games. They were pretty still and quiet, for a minute.

Soon, they started getting out their action figures and were playing with them in all the potted plants. When the receptionist left for class, they immediately took over his desk ledge. They started jumping around, I had to stop one from trying to go down the stairs. One almost ran straight into my boss's office. Geez, kids, where did you come from? Where were you raised?

Then, I looked over and noticed that there was only two of them. Where did the third go? He was going down the hall towards the conference room. It was like one of those slow motion sequences from a movie. "Nooooooooo." He had his hand on the doorknob and sure enough, he opened it.

Jacki and I both called down to him and told him to come back and that they needed to be left alone. What would I have done without her? I called her up to help because I simply do not do kids. Well, except for my nephews, but that's always different.

What do you do? You can't discipline someone else's children. You can't tell them to sit back down and don't move. Then they will complain to their parent and then a whole other can of worms is opened.

I started thinking about when I was a kid and had to accompany my parents for work or a meeting. I wouldn't dare think about moving from where my parents put me. I would sit still and play with whatever was given to me to or read whatever I had to read.

Granted there were a few times that we did some things after hours. Like ride the conveyor belt or ride the clothes elevator a few times, but that was all. (Haha, that's right Adam, I told on you. He rode the conveyor up and back down at Arrowhead. Busted). And if we broke it, we had to deal with our parents, that was it. We didn't go to someone else's office and play with things.

Perhaps I am being a little too over the top here, but it really gets me when people don't raise their kids? So many times I see kids going into stores with their parents without their hair combed and mismatching clothes. They all look like unmade beds. When did people stop caring. If you didn't want the responsibility of having children, then you should have thought twice before having them.

Legalese

My landlady decided to rescind on the offer that she had made me a few weeks ago. She counter offered with idea that she wanted to re lease the house for more rent, however I am still allowed to remain on the premises under the same stipulations. I will need to vacate the premise if the house goes under contract or is re let.

I thought about what my options were, but I really have none. You see the only evidence that I have is an oral contract which is not valid in the State of Georgia and the only thing I have to go on is parol (inadmissible) evidence. Furthermore, my old legal research professor is the new Assistant Magistrate Judge and the odds of her awarding specific performance is so incredibly minute that I wouldn't even waste my time on it.

Just thought that I would show people that I am actually learning something these days, in spite of my fried brain.

Why Nature, why?

This weekend was the weekend from hell for my poor little body. I sneezed, I sneezed and I sneezed some more.

It was such a beautiful day on Saturday that I decided that I needed to pick those daisies in my back yard and make an arrangement out of them. Then, I decided that laying out on a blanket in my front yard was a terrific idea. It was except for the bug part. A blanket is not a sufficient buffer between the bugs and I. I have bites on my legs, my arms, and my face, yep my face.

Oh, well. At least I got to enjoy the weather. However, I do want to know what I have done to upset Nature so much and why it has a vendetta against my nose.

Last night I drugged myself with a little antihistamine and woke up all "loopy." I still felt that way early this morning at work too. Probably not such a good idea.

Oh well, here's to the rest of the week. Maybe Nature will take it easy on me since I have two tests.

Personal Training, Not so Personal

So, yesterday I was suppose to get my butt handed to me. Right? That is what you expect from a personal trainer. That is why you are forking over the big bucks.

Well, for starters, she was an hour late. If someone hadn't called her and reminded her that she had an appointment, she would have never made it in. Feeling special already. Then, when she does get there, she isn't who I thought she was. It is in fact, my ex's trainer as well. Let's just pour some more salt on that wound shall we?

After we are done with everything, I am not feeling sore at all. I even did more stuff afterwards with some friends that were there in the free weight room. If this doesn't get better, I may have to re evaluate the entire thing. I hate this. I was expecting pain and didn't even get any. Geez. What's that saying? "No pain, no gain." I'm waiting for it, bring it on!

Anyway, I am trying to remain positive for the upcoming sessions.

Playing a fool

I have recently been trying desperately to sell this stupid engagement ring. The general consensus with all jewelers that I go to are that this is just not the right time to sell. One man at a local pawn shop said, "Buying jewelry is a luxury, and people are simple just not buying right now." He told me how pretty it was and, noticing the pain on my face, told me to hide it somewhere out of mind and sight and just wait until the economy turns around. Great, that will be never!

I really appreciated his honesty and sympathy. However, I left feeling more defeated than ever. Plus the whole car issue isn't helping either. I have to go through my insurance now because the little jerk that hit me has crappy insurance and they wanted me to jump through all kinds of fiery hoops. So, I am going to let my insurance fight them over it. It just means that I have to fork over the deductible and wait for reimbursement from the crappy good for nothing insurance.

Anyway, I have basically been down in the dumps the last couple of days. Every time that I left a jeweler who gave me the same advice, I would get that dry, can't breathe, can't swallow feeling in the back of my throat and that pit would reappear in my stomach.

You see, just two days prior to the breakup, I was talking to my dear friend in Milledgeville. (I call her my Milly mom because she was so good to me while down there). I told her that Matt and I were having some problems, but I thought they were just related to law school jitters and such. She asked if I wanted things to work out and I said "of course I do. I think that we are really good for each other. I do love him and I think he is worried about the future." Oops. Missed that one, huh?

I haven't been able to bring myself to call her, tell her that he in fact left me for another, and that I am back to square one. I hate admitting defeat.

My mom and co-worker think that I should just keep the ring, melt it down and create something else out of it. Like a trophy of sorts, reminding me that this time, it was not me. I didn't get the jitters about spending my life with someone that I wasn't sure about, I was ready.

I still haven't decided what to do, but will try to forget about for at least a little while. Wish me luck!

Friends with Benefits...

That is right folks. Apparently that heading can sum up my entire past year and a half. You see, he explained to me that he hadn't really felt any feelings or passion for me since before our one year anniversary.


Now, my question is this. Why wouldn't he have said something before then? Doesn't really make any sense now does it? I know that there is nothing that I can do about it now, but it ties in with yesterday's post regarding wasted time. Absolute waste of time.

I cannot wait until June, when I can remove myself from this entire situation and start anew. Until then, I just need to stay focused and stay the course.

Scarfices, just not worth it.

I get so angry at myself when I think about what all I sacrificed for that stupid little punk.

I was going to give up everything that I had worked on, for HIM!!! I cut people out of my life because it made him uncomfortable. Once you cut, you can't go back. I stopped talking to people, I didn't return phone calls, all for what. So that a year and half down the road, I would be left in the middle of it face oncoming traffic.

I get so angry thinking about it that I just want to scream and punch the crap out of something. (Frannie, this is when the dishes and a hammer might come in handy.)

I cannot count how many times I went with him to visit his brother and didn't even get to see my parents who lived 12 miles down the road. 12 MILES! Most of the time they didn't even know that I was in town. We always did what he wanted, when he wanted to do it. God forbid I wanted to go on a picnic, which got turned down by the way. God forbid I just want to go to the park and feed the ducks, again, turned down. No, Mere, going to the botanical gardens is a terrible idea. Grrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No, Mere, going to the lake, visiting your cousins and riding behind a boat is just not my bag.

I stopped doing what I wanted to do, for him, That's right, I forgot about my needs, for him. I was going to give up my job that I had been searching for since I moved to this stupid town, for him.

Geez, someone just shoot me in the freaking face! I cannot believe that I did that for, you guessed it, him!

I missed out on my brother's winging ceremony so that I could go to his graduation, get my car rear ended, and throw him a party with his entire family in my three bedroom micro house and dropped about $200.00 on it, for him!

Is anyone else getting mad yet? I got suckered into a two year contract with a gym, for and with him! Hey buddy, if you knew then, as you have so nicely pointed out, that you were ready to leave me, then why would you have asked me to join? Sure, just sign me up for something that I am going to get stuck in, forced to see you when I go, for two years. AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

When he left, I had never felt so alone. I had made him my world, I had ignored so many people for what, nothing. Absolutely freaking nothing. Everything that I had felt in the past year was absolute B.S.

I guess you really can't get upset about nothing, but I do when I think about all the missed opportunities. The times that I looked the other way because I was with him. All the times that I said "no, I'm with someone and I am happy." If I had known the truth, man alive!

Its like that song by Rod Stewart, "I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger."

I completely sacrificed an entire year of my life for nothing. No good came out of this relationship. I seriously cannot think of one thing other than my new ambitions. However, I believe that I would have eventually gotten to those or maybe sooner if I hadn't had this distraction.

This is why I am not going to start dating until I am finished with my plan. No more distractions, no more tangents and no more wasted time. I know that I am still relatively young, but if I keep this up, I will never make it to the finish line of where I want to be.

Today's blog is brought to you by the letter "D"

Okay, what starts with "D"? Oh, I know, deceit. That's right kids, today we are going to talk about deceit.

Now, do you know what deceit means? Well, allow me to quote from Wikipedia. (Heehhhmmm....clearing throat). Deceit is the propagation of beliefs that are not true.

Now, how could we apply this? Oh wait, I've the perfect situation.

Once upon a time...Okay I can't do this anymore. So basically, I feel that my entire relationship with Matt was a complete and utter deception. I was recently cleaning out my inbox and found tons and tons of e-mails and g-chats from him. Many of them were just the routine stuff, "when are you going to be home?," etc. Other things however, like the last e-mail that he sent the day that he broke up with me, that one is the real kicker. Basically he was telling me that he didn't want to loose me, that he loved me, yada yada. Well, we all know what happened five hours later, or otherwise I wouldn't be writing this blog about it.

Anyway, as I was scrolling through the various and numerous documents, I found one from a few months ago. We were discussing where he was probably going to be going for law school. He said that it was looking like it was leaning towards one more so than the others. So, I simply said, "It looks like I need to start looking for jobs." He basically said "no" and that we had plenty of time.

Well, after reading that and several others, I started to think. Did he have ulterior motive or hidden agenda behind it? I started second guessing everything in our relationship. "Did he ever really love me?," and so forth. I know that many of you are thinking, "Ah, she's finally lost her mind."

I am also starting to believe that he was cheating on me given the circumstances surrounding the girl that he is currently dating. The last weekend that we were together, we had gone to her place for a few to hang out. She was a friend of his sister-in-law. Very suspicious to say the least.

To make the situation even better, he recently told me that he had stopped having feelings for me before our anniversary last year. He said that the only excitement that he had during the trip was the fact that he was in New York and that it had nothing to do with me. Ouch.

Well, my justification for all this is simply to educate and protect myself from future encounters with others.


You see, it also wasn't just him that deceived me. His older brother and sister-in-law did a pretty bang up job too. His brother and I didn't exactly hit it off with a great start. He basically offended me with just about everything that he said. You see, these two brothers lack, what I like to call, a filter. They said anything and everything that pops in their head the moment that they think it. Very unwise, indeed. It was for this main reason that I didn't quite understand him and we were a little rocky to say the least around one another.

A few months after I had met him, we attended a hockey game with the couple. I thought that was when we had really found common ground to stand on. We were discussing the law (he was in law school at the time) and other such related topics. I can honestly say that I had a good time that night.

Well, after that, his brother started calling me "Mere-bear." I hadn't been called that since high school and I was never really fond of it. It reminded me too much of the Carebears, and I really didn't want to think of myself as a cartoon. Anyway, I took it as a sign that he did in fact approve and/or like me. He would always invite me down when Matt was planning a trip there and so forth. He even gave me a computer (which came with stipulations, and that makes perfect sense in lieu of my current situation.)

Now, his sister-in-law is a completely different story. I liked her from the get go. I thought that she was an interesting and eccentric person. She is very creative and innovative. The woman designed her own wedding invitations and basically the entire wedding and created everything from scratch. (Its okay, you are allowed to be impressed, I was.)

Whenever we would see each other I would just sit there and listen to her stories and look at stuff that she had created and designed and be in awe. She even helped design my blog when it was for cakes, and in fact I can't change the background because she did it and I don't know how.

She and I would occasionally complain about how when the two men would get together, they would get shorter tempers and would sometimes disappear, off doing nerdy things. My opinion was that "boys will be boys," and I would just let it go.

I really thought that we had connected. She would send my pictures of her cakes that she would make for friends, and I even made her brother's birthday cake. We would g-chat as well on an almost daily basis.

Now, based on all this you wouldn't think that these people completely sabotaged me would you? Apparently, the same time that Matt left, they were telling him how I was a boring, dull and negative person. Ouch, right?

Now, how could I have guessed this based on my previous experiences with them? I can't think of it either, but it still hurts my feelings none-the-less. Usually I can spot a snake a mile away, but not this time. I guess it had something to do with the rose tinted glasses that I was wearing at the time and the fact that his parents like me. Or at least I think they did. Ah, I can't tell anymore what was what and who was who?

I know that none of this matters anymore in regards to him, but I really want to learn something from this. I am just having a really hard time putting the clues together that I should have picked up on. Perhaps I am still naive in many ways. Maybe I need to slap a little bit more mortar on the metaphorical wall on that front.

Anyway, this was just bearing on me a lot today, and I had to let it out before I exploded with anger and other emotions that I don't know how to quite define as of now. It just really goes to show that you really don't know someone until you break up with them.