Why I Can't Title This...

...Because I'm not sure where to start.

After five years on the world's biggest sex site, I keep thinking I have learned it all. I haven't.

I haven't learned why people call themselves swingers when they are really insecure narcissists.

I haven't learned why so many people are looking for love, while saying they are really looking for casual, while acting like they are looking for someone to treat them like crap.

I haven't learned why people are so fucking mean to one another.

I haven't learned why everyone having an affair believes they are the only person to have one; the only person to feel 'this way'; the only person who has had to learn to live a double or triple life.

No, I have not learned the answers to any of these things and yet, I continue to try to understand. Why? Well, it seems to be in my nature.

It also seems to be in my nature to try to understand why people make others suffer for their own issues.

Yes, all of these are things I want to understand. Perhaps fundraising is not the right career. Perhaps psychiatry is.

I have a number of 'characters' I could write about and yet, the scariest part is that these are real people. They are parents (biologically speaking, only); they are educators and doctors and police officers and lawyers; they are homemakers and professionals of all sorts.

And what binds them together is a need to be told they are awesome.

Don't we all have that need on some level? Maybe.

But does that need have to infringe upon everyone else's life?

I wrote a post about the site's largest bully. It was removed. Why? It was the truth. Good lesson: Fuck the truth.

Then I learned that people want to have fun there. So I will have fun. For now. I don't think it will last long. I'm not really feeling it right now.

On this site, I will write about Chato "hereafter referred to as: The One" and I will write about "The Prince" and I will write about the people who are so ridiculously petty and mean-spirited and yet, on some level, looked at as nice and innocent. Oh, and the search. The search for the most awesome partner to my crimes. The one.

Yes, I will do that here because there is a story here somewhere. Or perhaps the story is everywhere. What we do to others when we believe we won't be caught.

The fact is: We will be. Everyone is.

No one who manipulates or bullies gets out unscathed.

They just do a lot of damage to others before they hit their wall.

Time to start removing the bricks.

Let's start with a story about "The Prince". It will curl your hair. I know it has mine.

I keep hoping that one day, he will turn into "The King", but I tell you...there must be a reason the 'awesome search' has continued, right?

Must be.

Do You Know Where You're Going To...

Do you like the the things that life is showing you..
.....Diana Ross

Those first few weeks of talking with Chato were simply amazing.

I remember our first call. I told him he could call while I was walking to the subway because it was a short walk. I didn't expect to sit on the steps outside of my office and talk for over half an hour. It wasn't until he got paged to go back to work that we realized how much we had said.

From that point on, we spoke daily. What did we talk about? Everything. Nothing was off limits.

A few weeks later I asked if he would come with me to a birthday party in Rhode Island. A part of me had hoped he would say no. Then I wouldn't have to put my money where my mouth was. He said yes, without hesitation.

That started the flurry of planning.

Now here is what I will say about being a parent who is about to embark on an affair: You want to take your child and run.

Run because while you can see where you have been and where you are heading, you want to protect your kids. I am sure of this.

I hear the stories. I know that good parents don't ever want to hurt their kids. Ever.

By the time Chato and I met in April, we were friends. The kinds of friends who would say anything to the other. But, I wasn't sure we were anything else.

He told me he loved me. I said 'thank you'. I couldn't say it back. As much as we talked and shared, he wasn't real. Not really, real.

We met on a beautiful spring day. He was perfection. I had never imagined that this stranger would show up in NY and drive with me for 3 hours and that those hours would feel like minutes. We laughed and we shared stories and we teased each other.

But like any good movie, we started our trip with a crash. A bridge that for years had stood lowered, was raised for a boat to pass through. As I stopped and looked back in my rear-view mirror, the car next to us was rear-ended. I rememebering saying to Chato: This is unusual. This bridge is never used. It must be the universe telling us something.

I still believe that. I fell in love that weekend like I had never fallen in love before. We did the most random things. We watched bad MTV shows and he laughed at me as I sat, mesmerized, by the NFL draft. We ordered pizza in and watched CSI marathons. And we woke up the next morning like we had been together 50 years.

And I wondered how I had never noticed that look before. You know the one. The one that says: You are my love.

Where was I all of these years? Maybe I had decided there was no 'one' for me. I'm not sure. All I know is that by the time I was driving home on Sunday morning and he was flying back to Chicago, I had changed my life in some way.

And I wasn't go to 'un-change' it for another two years.

We Were The Greatest...Me And You...

In thinking about how to write about the 'why' I have a broken heart, I guess it makes sense to go back and look at how I got 'here'. Where is 'here'?

Here is here.

The day I met my first husband for the first time, I looked at him and saw forever. I could see us growing older together, having children and grandchildren and a lot of other things that seem silly now, but meant everything then.

I was 18. What did I know? Everything. What 18 year old doesn't?

When we divorced, I was devastated. But I was a martyr. He had gone through so many different women during our marriage that at 23, I did not have to do any heavy emotional lifting. It was his fault. Not mine. I was a great wife.

That attitude carried me through dating and falling in love again, but it didn't do me any favors in the long-run. Not having to look at myself meant that I married a second man who not only didn't love me, but wouldn't. Notice I did not say 'couldn't'? There is a big difference.

I tell people that your righteous indignation about an affair only happens when it's your first time dealing with one. Once you have suffered the emotional destruction of either finding out someone you love is having an affair, or having one yourself, your indignation turns to something else.

Or at least it did for me. I learned to forgive.

It is interesting that I am trying out this 'remove grief' during Lent thing and this week has hit me like a ton of bricks. Every regret I had from the past year reared up and kicked me in the face this week. Thanks grief. You bitch.

Yes, right. I forgot. The story. Chato and I. March 16, 2008. That's the day that changed my life. I turned my life upside down. I learned who I was not. I learned who I am. A simple blog comment on the world's largest sex site. Up until that day, I had gotten away with 2 years of: I'm just here to blog, thank you. What happened?

That day should be an anniversary of sorts for me. In fact, a year after, Chato and I were still trying to decide what our anniversary was so we could celebrate in style. We settled on a date in April.

But no, it was March. 16. 2008...

A simple, cheeky comment about Apple and the iTunes monster. I ignored it for a few days. The 'stranger' commenting on my post was unwelcomed on my blog. Who was this guy and what did he think he was doing joining my little blog party? Didn't he see that I had a ton of friends there? What was he trying to do?

Maybe it hurt him that he looked like perfection. Who knows. All I know is that 3 days later we began our friendship.

Nothing has been the same since. Nothing…



Lyrics | Adele lyrics - I'll Be Waiting lyrics

And I Can't Spend My Whole Life Hiding My Heart Away...

So I made a decision today. No, it wasn't today, it was over the weekend, to post on my other site for a while. To test out the waters and to see if fun there is possible.

Deep down inside, I am aware that I can only say so much there. That is why this will remain my 'home'. It's safe. I can say what I need to. I can finally start this story. I can move on and move forward and do all those clichéd things people do when they want to grow. Maybe they aren't so clichéd.

Maybe today is not the right day to start. I outed a bully and she replied with a threat. That doesn't upset me.

I met with resistance from someone I thought would do something important. That can't upset me.

My heart is broken. It has been for a while. That worries me.

I have tried to say it is healed. It is not. I have tried to say it is okay. It is not. I have tried to say I am fine. Right.

Am I having fun? Yes. I am doing and going and being.

That has to be enough, yes? And yet it isn't. My heart is broken. After a full year I know that as much as I smile and as happy as I am and as much as I am attempting to be good with the universe, I am still not sure how someone deals with a broken heart. I'm not good at it. Is anyone? No, only people who distance themselves from others could possible be good at this kind of thing.

I am not sure when it is supposed to heal. I would say 'don't tell anyone I said this', but I just blogged about it. That's the first step to fixing something, right? Admitting there is a problem.

Well, I have a problem. My heart is broken and I'm a little tired of it.

My heart is not broken for a person, it is broken because an ideal is gone. An opportunity. A thing bigger than him, me, us.

My heart is broken because I am too busy trying to say all is well to deal with why I am still sad. Why disappointment still hurts. Why a decision made in anger changed everything I felt about someone and how he felt about me.

I Wish I Could Lay Down Beside You...

When you have friends who insist on treating you both fairly and honestly, you can find yourself totally annoyed.

There. I said it out loud.

This is a true story. You have been warned.

I know when a person has given away too much and wants to hold onto something for themselves. I don't even need them to tell me. I can just feel it. I know when a person just wants to have fun and not get too serious and I know when they are lying to themselves and others.

I'm not a witch.

I just know myself.

22 years. That's how long I've been on my own. From the age of 16, I've been either taking care of myself or taking care of others.

This is nothing to get overly excited about it just is what it is.

But now that I've sent off a child to college; now that I've been divorced for a couple of years from a man who really didn't like me let alone love me and now that I have spent the past year dating, I can say:

Sometimes, I have no clue. Not one freaking clue. Not about myself and not about others.

I've met so many peolpe who say that they want x or y when in reality they are still at the start of the alphabet.

And...I've stepped aside to let others choose their own course of action so often that I should really have my picture on a road sign and then I could become part of the DMV test.

I listen to what people around me say and I wonder if they hear themselves. Often the answer is: No. They do not. They talk a great game but they are liars. Or maybe they honestly have no idea what they are doing.

Either way it is a little scary.

Screaming Fire In A Crowded Room...

Then Whispering It's All Really Okay...

A Public Service Announcement.

An accusation of assault is one we should all take very seriously.

Especially since have all been reminded of how we should build 'community' around here...we must stand together, right? Voice our opinions. Tell someone when they have wronged us. If we are told that words hurt, then surely physical acts of violence require even more outrage. Honest outrage. Protection for those who can not protect themselves.

It is the type of accusation that I believe requires all of our attention. Immediately. No one has a right to physically intimate, assault or restrain someone against their will. Period.

I have been a member of a specific 'online community' for five years. I have seen many things go on and I almost always stay out of everyone's way. There is never a time for me to blindly follow a story line. I know the tales people weave to create their images. In real life this sucks. Online it is magnified.

But there are some stories that require a voice to say: No, that is not true.

Friday night was my reminder of that.

While I was speaking to someone who believes that I should have stood up for them against someone's else's words, and while I was accused of being a bad friend by their husband.

I admit it: I lost it.

For 7 months, I have silently watched while fireworks went off around there. Perhaps I should have said something. I don't know. I assumed it would all blow over. But it hasn't.

How do I know? Because this woman voiced something that she and I both know is not true. But this time, she said it directly to me.

She accused someone of assaulting her. Making her fearful. Restraining her. And then she said: They were drunk.

All four statements are not true. I know, because I was there for most of the night that this happened, and two other bloggers caught the 'action' I missed. These two other bloggers were used as a defense again on Friday and yet we all know it isn't true. They never said what she keeps implying.

In fact, I saw all of the parties involved the very next night and saw the post party pics. The accused and the accuser: Smiling. Together.

The post event texts and calls that went on for months after the 'act of violence'. The erotic pictures. Everything.

I saw it all. And I sat back and said: Fuck this. If no one else will say anything, I will go to Paris, I will plan our group's Vegas trip and then I am done talking about this here or there or anywhere. Perhaps I am the only one worrying about this fact vs. fiction and I must stop.

And then on Friday, while I was being accused of being a 'bad friend' to someone I had to remind has no friendship with me outside of the internet, I heard it:

The attack on another blogger.

I'm tired of it. If you're willing to throw this person under the bus. The person you dedicated numerous blog posts to; the person you know you were more than just 'blog friends' with, the person you actively sought out on many occasions, what will you say about your other friends? What are you saying? How often have you repeated this story that you have said, in writing, was an exageration?

The truth is I do not want to find out.

Ever.

I want this to end. Why? Because it is wrong.

Do you all hear what I am saying? It is wrong to accuse anyone of anything that is not true.

And if you find yourself on the receiving end of accusations and you know you can prove them to be lies, I want you to ask yourselves if we, as a community, have a right to know when one of our own is not honest about things that are relevant to our safety.

Yes, that goes for anyone here who has ever been accused of anything they know is not true: How did this make you feel? Better yet, how does it make you feel now. Time passes, but a betrayal feels the same, right? It never goes away. You look at someone and know they will lie, sometimes to your face, just to keep their standing.

You want to know why I didn't say anything before today? Because I was asked to sit silently even when I knew better.

Perhaps that is the real reason why I shut down my blog there and have been writing elsewhere. I was tired of being told what I could write. What our 'community' wanted to hear.

That's my mistake. I forgot that we all have a voice.

I forgot that when you know someone puts their own place on a virtual perch higher than the safety and integrity of their 'friendships' than everyone loses.

It is wrong to scare people with words. It is wrong to make accusations you know are false.

(originally posted on alternate blog site: 3.27.11)

Rodney King Called...He Says Getting Along Ain't Gonna Happen...

And now...a true case of online bullying:

We read a lot about cyber-bullying now that everyone is everywhere. There is no place to escape from some of the things said about us...or the things we say about others. Things like emails and blog posts and texts can last forever. And often, too often, they can find their way into the hands of people we'd prefer never knew just how mean we are to those around us.

I have thought about this a lot lately because a few weeks ago, I had a series of emails sent out about me by some of my fellow bloggers on a different site. Well, let me not exaggerate - it was not a big group. It was 4 people. Three of them had met me, one had not. One of them was involved in the original conversations, 3 of them chose to involve themselves later.

No, I will not disclose the names. I will only say that it was all much ado about nothing.

I would not rescind an invite to someone who wanted to attend a party. Why? Well, for a few reasons:

1. I didn't extend the offer in the first place;

2. It wasn't my party to say 'no' to;

3. The people being excluded have/had never done anything to me and I had never crossed into their blogging home before I was asked to exclude them. Funny, right? I should dislike people I didn't even know. To not dislike them out of hand meant that I am too dumb to make decisions. It's a wonder I can cross the street. Hold down a job. Raise a kid. Oh, wait....

When the first round of emails arrived in my in-box (they had been sent to a number of other bloggers and never to me until a friend forwarded them) I was surprised that things like my parenting skills; choice of friends; who I sleep with and my job had been tossed into the mix simply because I insisted on staying out of the initial argument...yeah, because it had nothing to do with me.

What was the offense? I refused to take sides.

Not because I am a punk but because it isn't for anyone to demand that I:

1. Choose a side in anything because I make my own decisions;

2. Get others to call or email me to demand that I choose a side or sides (see above item #1);

3. Try to bully me into choosing a side or sides (see above items);

4. Think that talking about me behind my back does anything to actually bother me.

Yes, I know. Bitchy sounding, right?

Yeah, I already heard that I'm not as nice as people think. You are right.

I am not.

Now, I could have easily started posting some of the things said in these back and forth conversations but why bother? I knew that once I stepped away the bullying would find a new venue because that is how it works.

That's why I called bullshit.

I spent my life being popular. Again, bitchy thing to say. I know. My popularity isn't built on anything other than being totally honest. If I don't like something I will tell you. But I will never shout it from a roof-top, I will quietly tell you when no one else is around. Then you get to choose how you want to deal with me. Apparently, adults like honesty. Go figure.

I read something that a brilliant writer wrote last night and I chose to make a reference to one line: No one here is insignificant. Yes, I chose to not focus on the rest of the post.

Every single writer out there has something to say. Every single one. Will you always like it? No, probably not.

But maybe instead of following people around to see where they are commenting, you might consider doing something like sending a private email to someone to ask why they felt a certain way. I dunno, maybe that's just me.

To be honest, I'm an asshole for suggesting it.

It's far easier to set flame to everyone around us than to say: Hey, why do you feel this way?

So I say 'fuck it'. I loved my other blogging place for years. To be honest, there are so many wonderfully gifted writers there that I am sad I can't find any place safe to comment except for a very small group of bloggers. Thanks, said bloggers, for keeping a blanket ready for when I am cold.

But before I finish this ill-formed monologue, let me say this:

Every single one of us has a friend who says things we either wish we could say or wouldn't say but have thought. Don't lie to yourselves because some of you are actually writing posts on behalf of those bloggers right. as. we. speak.

Go ahead and tell me you aren't.

The point? Yes, sometimes things are said that we don't like, or agree with or don't know the reason behind, or, or, or, or.

Find a better way to ask 'why' instead of group-think. That's killed off all civilized communities since the dawn of time.

And another thought: Sometimes, people have something going on in their lives that makes them more susceptible to a rant or an angry word or whatever. Leaping on that person like sheep on steriods is really only going to make matters worse.

It ends up making the 'victim' look like a bully.

And yes, I did go all "Hakuna Matata" on your asses.