One of God's Own Prototypes

Through a report on National Public Radio I have learned the United States is requiring those being evacuated from Lebanon, being attacked largely with with American designed and made weapons by Israel, to sign promissory note to repay the United States government. On top of that travesty of foreign and public policy while much of the rest of the world responded within hours it took the United States nearly a week to begin evacuating U.S. Citizens from a war zone caused by a continuing and active failure in American foreign policy. Current reports are estimating that the only about 200-300 people can be evacuated tonight, while 25,000 U.S. Citizens are trapped.

Why is it that the richest country in the world requires people who have lost everything to repay them for the cost of a humanitarian effort? While I am not Christian, this seems to fly in the face of the supposed Christian values I understand have been professed by most members of Congress and to an radical extreme by this president. Humanitarian efforts are for the good of Humanity, not for the coffers of the United States Treasury. If we are in such dire need of funding maybe we should raise taxes on the upper-class and big business.

At 27 years old, I am a young man, but I was taught to vote from an early age and have voted in every election, both primary and general, since 1996. I encourage others to vote and this year is an election year.


In a related war and veterans affairs issue I would like to know your current view and express my concern involving non-Abrahamic grave markers in veterans’ cemeteries. Among those serving in our military are soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines who profess to the faiths of Wicca, Shamanism, Druidry and other Neopagan beliefs. However when they are buried in military cemeteries they are not allowed to have a grave marker with their religious symbol of choice.

We live in a country that was founded on a freedom of religion and is the first freedom protected under the First Amendment to the United Stated Constitution. Wicca, Shamanism, Druidry and many other Neopagan religions are placed on their identification tags and acknowledged as valid religions by both the military and the Supreme Court. So why are they not allowed to have a pentacle i.e. a five-pointed star, Thor’s Hammer, or other non-Abrahamic religious symbol on their grave marker?

I sent a message to a bunch of people on that Louisville mojo and I'll repeat it here sans my personal phone number:

It’s been a year on mojo and what have I learned? Women, at least the ones here, are ultimately shallow and uncaring. I could have the best time on a date, be explicitly told that we’re going out again, only to hear later that they’ve found someone else, or, and more likely, nothing more at all.

After a year I’ve learned that of all the women I’ve met here none of them have truly cared for my feelings. They may say they have, but the actions speak louder than words. Out of the six women I’ve had any kind of relationship with here, only one talks to me anymore. Do I blame myself? I could, and probably should, but looking at what’s been happening, how I’ve been treated and I’ve treated in turn, it’s not as much me as the fact that in dating it’s a woman’s market. Guys are the beggars. Some may be better than others, but ultimately they’re begging and hoping that their attentions are noticed, and hopefully their intentions aren’t.

So why I am I writing this? Why an I sending it to my posse and the nine or 10 people in my hot list? Simple once I’m done with this I’m going to “dismember” myself, remove it from my bookmarks and add mojo to my blocked website list in Firefox.

If after all of this you still want to talk to me I’ll leave my contact info at the end.

Colin Ritter

Email: panton41@gmail.com
Yahoo: panton41
AOL: panton91
MSN: panton41@hotmail.com
Google Talk: panton41

I meant to write this one year to the day, but Paul was over last night. One year ago I wrote a post out of the pain of loneliness and, quite frankly, selfishness and I really don’t want to rehash it here because it still bothers me.

Last year I was listening to “Somewhere Tonight” by Bob Seger off of his album Like a Rock. So how would I summarize my last year, using the 169 Bob Seger songs I’ve heard? In one song? I’m not sure. “Night Moves”? Not really. I’ve never had anyone close to a “black haired beauty with big dark eyes” nor a sex affair as heated as that one is made out to be. “The Fire Down Below” is more like it, but even it doesn’t fit too well. It alludes to frequent, easy-to-get sex, and that’s not what I’ve had. Skipping around singers of the day I’d say the refrain to Fleetwood Mac’s “Gold Dust Woman” fits pretty well.

Did she make you cry
Make you break down
Shatter your illusions of love
Is it over now — do you know how
Pick up the pieces and go home.

I’m to the point of being jaded with women. Anyone who’s been reading this for however long would know that I’ve been searching for someone and then every time I think I’ve found someone … they find another guy. More often than not. My sister argued that Tiffany didn’t, but she really did. She was obsessed with her attorney and ex-lover. Every other word involved him.

My worry about sex … pointless. Look back over the last several posts and you can see why I say that. My sister argued this morning that I should have waited for marriage. This is also the 21^st Century and I’m a guy who’s lonely. I think I’ve taken on some of the feelings on relationships I’ve applied to Susanne. I think I’m very co-dependant with relationships. Tiffany treated me like crap and I put up with it. I’ll taken anything I can get and if that means only sex so be it. That’s not all I want. Everyone who’s read this knows that. I wish every woman I would potentially court would know that. It’s not that hard for me to find a fuck buddy. That’s not what I want though. I’ve had several women tell me that if I were in love it would be better. Given I’ve never been in love I don’t know if it’s true or not.

My story with Brian and Susanne has radically changed given my experience with sex. At one point I mention how the reason they did it was that it was all that was left in their relationship. Now… It happens casually for biological reasons. Susanne has a period of estrus and she asks Brian to help her with her nearly uncontrollable desires.

And to be quite frank, right now, I’m bored with writing this. I want to continue on my fairy story and actually I think I should spend some extra time trying to get my writing blog up to date.

I just had a dream that I’d like to wrote down because it seemed for important. It’s a recurring series (in retrospect) but I think it’s very very deep to my early childhood memories and development.

I feel like my extremely fatigued adult brain has been going over my oldest memories and the result has been unusual and almost Freudian in simplicity. I connected a lot of my early childhood memories to people important in my life.

This dream oddly our neighbors growing up George and Mary Daily across the street specifically come into my head several times. I know my ridged childhood structures like of having a certain number of grandparents popped into my head too.

My basic childhood truths popped in like my dad going out for donuts on Saturday morning because that’s what always had happened came to mind.

Why and where we would commonly go out to eat for special occasions popped in very unusual results. Space aliens being the reasons behind that. Driving carts off of cliffs into water (in geography I can only trace to the video game Guild Wars which I rarely play and haven’t touched in almost two weeks) that carried people thinking that.

Victorian-looking wooden toys with orderly wires and rows of simple iron-black people-shaped trinkets on the wires I know represented complex ideas but I have no idea of what. Heavy stock board toys with yard and pins too. Often near he memories involving the cart.

Mental structures given a physical shape of why things happened that my sister and I had developed being applied to something and then taken apart like white foam blocks.

Gnarled trees in my parent’s yards and oddly bedroom being a dominate imagery.

My parent’s bedroom seemed to make several appearances, but in my defense I remember voluntarily spending a lot of time there. Things on their dressers that I don’t remember except through these dreams. Square glass perfume bottles of different sizes with lots of close vertical lines down their sides. Decorative Mirrors on the wall and dresser. (And not the single circle they actually had, more like several squares.) Furniture that I don’t remember. All very late 1970s and very early 1980s? Maybe my very earliest memories that I had forgotten or something different?

What looked like a cyan blue Oscar the Grouch Muppet being torn up and thrown out with the garbage.

A pale-blue pompom looking ball that my mind had crudely labeled (and I mean in my blocky little kid handwriting) “earth” breaking apart with a few pieces of metallic Christmas-looking garland and some memory of the T.V. Show “You Can’t Do that on Television”.

What felt like my family oral traditions about choosing things like ice cream and pizza having unusual outer space alien-like attributes on them. Thoughts of the silly ways my dad always put things like that that I have since dismissed as simply that him being silly, being remembered, but just the concept of it.

It seems like my oldest ideas of birthdays do so uniquely special days being held in check by my current reality of a disliked once a week, late night class on my next birthday. The thoughts behind that had the appearance of the white on black line art silhouette of a Victorian-era robot like you might see in an issue of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman.

Right now, I am too tired to keep writing and I have been making constant typos as I wrote this for some reason.

Another reason I’d want a self-conscious woman is that I’m very self-conscious myself. I’ve had more than enough women say I’m cute, but I don’t feel that way. I’m like 20 pounds over weight, but you’d never know by looking at me clothed. I’m hairy in general and I’ve heard mixed reviews on that from women. I feel as if my looks, for good or ill, are part of why I can’t easily pick up women. I feel I’m never going to be able to date a truly attractive woman, no offense to anyone who might read this who I’m trying to date.

I feel like it’s my lot in life to be alone. Every time I get anywhere with a woman it’s ended, or more or less ended, within a month. I’m 27 and my longest relationship has been three months and even then only because I finally decided that it had ended already and I was just hanging on because I wanted one. I’ll probably be co-dependent in any relationship I get in. I have a deep feeling of wanting a relationship, any relationship, with a woman. I don’t like sex, but I’d be willing to have a fuck buddy just to have a relationship. And I have a hard time making platonic friends with women because I’m always wanting there to be more. (Actually friends in general, but that’s a different story.)

Tonight I went to Main Street Lounge to meet with a female friend who I’d kind of liked to have been more. It ended spectacularly when she began making out with a guy as she was leaving. Having that happen, even with her unaware of my intentions and desires, brought back the specter of loneliness.

I want a relationship, but my life has been like a line from Alanis Morissette’s song “Ironic”. Paraphrased to fit me it’s “meeting the woman of my dreams, and then her handsome husband”. Trawling mojo I’ll meet women who I’d love to be with, but only to see “hooked up” or “married”. Or, and this is probably worse of a curse, they’re my type, but I’m not their type.

I have an idealized relationship, of sorts, in my Terrae story. (Look on my writing blog, it take up about half of the posts.) So looking at it what do I like. Why does it appeal to me? Specifically what about Susanne appeals to me? She’s the love interest.

Let me start by saying it’s not that she’s a Furry “fox”. That is an impossible thing. I don’t like her for that. I’m considering lifting her from that story into my fairy story as Ariel and removing all traces of her being a “vixen”. So no, that’s not the reason.

What appeals to me then? Let’s start with the physical details, but amend it to include my current thinking. Susanne is 5’2”, 110-lbs (assuming she were human) and wears a 32A bra. I like short, petite woman with small chests. However, I also like short chubby women with huge chests. So where I say on mojo that I like small chests it’s not entirely accurate. Even though Susanne is blond, I prefer dark hair and eyes. I’d love some kind of ethnic woman, but right now I’m practically a beggar so as the old saying goes I can’t be a chooser.

Personality wise I’m kind of mixed. I want a strong, smart women, but I also don’t. Tiffany was and her personality dominated the relationship. The woman tonight was too and look what happened there. I’m not a very strong willed person, but I don’t like being shoved around like that. I kind of like women who are self-conscious. Susanne is very self-conscious. It’s for a selfish reason though. I like women who are kind of unsure about themselves because it makes me and my flaws seem more acceptable. I almost want someone as desperate as I am. Besides that I like someone who’s eclectic. I like women who are as unusual as I am. Who know what they want out of life.

Sex drive … OK this is where things get tricky. I’ve gone into a lot of detail on my views on sex in the next section, so I’ll say what I like and dislike in general here. Susanne is more or less a slut, but hates doing it. She does it to feel wanted. It’s a self-destructive panacea. It’s in her character as a piece of reality to her situation. I don’t want that in a woman though. Not that I want a “good little girl”. I think what I want was described best in a lyric from the muscial Les Miserables to describe Fantine by the factory workers, “She plays a virgin in the light, but needs no urging in the night”. I want someone I could take home to see my parents and they’d be happy to see me with such a good woman, and then later that night we do things my parents would be shocked to know I’ve done.

I goes without saying that want a woman who’ll be happy with one man in their life. This has been a bane of my love life. I’m good enough for now, but they’ve always found someone else. The woman I went on a date with two weeks ago has added several guys to her posse on mojo since then. (The posse is a visible list of friends on there.) So have I for that matter, but my worry is still real since it’s happened so many times. Kimmy. Crystal. And whether she’d admit to it or not Tiffany wasn’t happy with me either, and I can almost guarantee the reason she got so scarce toward the end had nothing to do with work and family.

— Section 2 —

Looking back at my previous posts I realize how naïve I was about sex. I equated sex directly with love and looking back at the reality of my sex life it’s almost laughable. I’ve had sex more times than I can keep count and I’ve never been in love. Right now I have the possibility of two fuck buddies and as much as I want to do it, and I probably will, it’s not at all fulfilling.

There’s more reasons for that than me wanting love. Sex does nothing for me. I’ve thought for months now that if I had to summarize what I though of it I’d say, “much ado about nothing”. Masturbating give me more pleasure than sex, and it’s a hell of a lot easier. I’ve gotten off from sex five times. I can actually count it. I find sex almost annoying. As much as I want to do it, it does nothing for me. Most likely I won’t get anything out of it. The woman may, or may not. Anymore I do it for the woman, not myself.

For the record I absolutely hate being on top. Doggy is annoying since I can’t stay in. I like woman superior, but not every woman does. I’ve been told I’m good, but I’m self-conscious about it. I can guarantee it is because I was a virgin until last March and that I’ve done it so few times. Not to mention how I had performance anxiety early on where I couldn’t keep it up.

And to be honest sex worries me about a serious relationship. I’d like for it to happen with her after we’d been going out for a while. I’d like it to be special, but what if we’re compatible in every other way but that? It could easily kill a relationship. I know because it’s happened already. I really liked the woman, but the sex wasn’t good. So it worries me. Chances are it’ll always bother me. It even make me worry about getting married and having kids. The thought of when we’re trying to have a kid and I can’t do my part of it disturbs me. When a couple is have a problem with conceiving they sometimes go down to the hour, and there’s a good chance, given my current experiences, that nothing would happen.

And Dr. Manion isn’t the best person I can talk to about this. I’ve known her since I was 10 and she’s older than my Grandma Lynn was when she died last year. I know I’m supposed to talk about these kinds of things with my psychiatrist, but it just feels awkward with her. If I started going to someone new I’d feel the same way. It would be like talking to a stranger. Family is obviously out. They’d care about me being depressed, but obviously not that detail of why. Paul? No. For too many reasons to count not least of which is that he’s a virgin. The one person I’d feel comfortable talking to it about right now, my best friend from the third-grade until I was in college for the first time, doesn’t talk to me anymore. My other best friend from then? Too awkward. We’ve barely talked over the past couple years even though I have his phone number. If we were as close as back then, he’d be perfect. None of my friends from online who I’d trust talk to about this are online right now when I feel I need to vent it. I don’t even think the best person to talk to this about is someone I’d be in a relationship with. I wouldn’t want her to hear it and then think she had to do something about it. I just want to talk about it and deal with it in my own way.

By this point I’ve written 1,390 words as of the numeral and it’s 5:15 a.m. so I’ll wrap it up here.

This is kind of a pre-Dr. Manion update for my journal here.

My life has been going pretty well. I had two nice dates in a row last weekend with someone named Antia and the week before I had nice time with Angel. I really like them both, but I’m probably leaning a bit more toward Anita right now, but only time will tell. She has “Just Dating” on her Mojo profile so I might be jumping the gun by seeing anything more happening that just dating — obviously … lol Angel wants a long term relationship, but it’s another case of “only time will tell”.

I may have found religion. (Note the “may”.) Let me give some background though. I was raised Presbyterian, but I wasn’t the best follower. My parents have stories of me telling Rev. Brown that Jesus couldn’t have walked on water because he was too dense and that I guess it had to have been a miracle that he did. (Though I understood the concept behind the Trinity better than some seminary students. God is like water; liquid, solid and gas, Father, Son and Holy Ghost.) Ultimately when I wasn’t being forced to go to church I stopped going. Ren and Stimpy was much more interesting.

I went off and on while I was in high school. My best friend at the time, he won’t talk to me anymore, Sam Garrett was a HUGE Born Again Christian and as annoying as hell. (He’s Wiccan now…) After high school I pretty much stopped going to church altogether other than for about a month because the pastor at the Wall Street Methodist Church in Jeffersonville, Ind (where my Scouts meet) was funny. (I think humor is important.)

Ultimately there’s a few thing I don’t like about Christianity and if you’ve ever seen Dogma you’d understand perfectly. Too many Christians put all of their faith into their dogma. Some — like The Letter in the White House — run their entire lives (and everyone else’s) by this and everyone else is wrong and going to hell for it. I don’t believe in hell. Never have. It just seems like a bad idea. Another person who I agree with about organized religion is George Carlin. (“There is no God” on his CD You’re All Diseased is great!) I hate it when Christians proselytize, because I know what I want out of my life and they never will.

Don’t get me wrong I know, like and respect a lot of Christians and even Born Again Christians. A Scouting friend of mine, Mitchell Harlan is a great example. He’s a public defender and I think the reason he is is because he wants to help people and he’d rather do that than make a lot of money.

Anyway …

I’ve considered myself agnostic for years. I use a lowercase “a” because I don’t believe in true Agnosticism. I think there is a higher power and I just haven’t figured it out yet. I believe in an afterlife of some sort since I can’t imagine that this is all there is. Actually the fact that we even exist is why I have some faith at all.

So where am I heading with this? Ironically, on tangent toward computers. If you’ve read this you probably know I’m a Linux fan (even though I’m typing this on my Windows-based home computer). Using Linux gives you a mentality of a non-conformist. It also gives you a kind of self-reliance and even a bit of an attitude toward authorities. Even though I can barely program Linux gave me the feeling of running a home-brewed operating system. If I felt like it, I could change nearly anything about it and it had a lot of bells and whistled that I loved. (In the end I wanted to play video games and not have to battle with incompatible drivers.) What does this have to do with religion? I like the idea of a religion that has that kind of freedom.

I should also mention I’m a firm believer in the First Amendment in every part of it. This country is more open to letting you believe in religion you want then Ancient Rome. In Ancient Rome they allowed Citizens to believe in anything they wanted as long as they didn’t perform human sacrifice and gave the Roman Pantheon respect in their worship. (Thank you History Channel!)

Well, if anyone has read My Writing Blog you’d know that I’ve been writing a book about fairies. The fairies in my story are specifically creatures of Goidelic Celtic myth.¹ So I’ve been exposed to a lot of pagan related information during my research. By this point, quite frankly, I like it. It’s fascinating.

You can probably see where I’m headed with this. I’m seriously considering becoming Wiccan. Specifically being a Solitary Witch. (You’ll never find me going to any kind of church on a regular basis, no matter what the religion.) I’ve got to get over being self-conscious about it though. I live alone. Not even Sadie (my coincidentally black cat, if you didn’t know) lives with me, but I still feel odd doing what little I have done, which has mostly been giving the Goddess and God notice that I am alive from time to time.

I don’t know why I feel self-conscious. I feel there’s absolutely nothing wrong with what I’m doing. I’m specifically wanting to be solitary because I’d feel self-conscious in any kind of group. Especially with just coming into it. A part of it is that I’m not that big on ritual. I’ve always kind of liked ritual though, so I guess I have to get over having always been an observer and become an active participant. I’m sure it’ll be enjoyable once I have everything I’d like and I can make it seem more like an organized ritual and not just me dicking around.

I just bought an athame on eBay, which is a ceremonial black-handled knife. (This one is 10 inches long and has a wooden handle with brass fittings.) I also bought some candles at Meijers and I plan on buying some white candles at Walmart tomorrow along with these really nice looking (and possibly real silver somehow for like $2) candle holders assuming that the emergency candles can fit in them. (I already have two of them and they make a musical “ding” like silver when something hard hits them.) I know you don’t have to have things like that, but I’d feel more comfortable with doing the ritual if I have things mentioned in the books to help me with it.

It’s probably best to say that I first got the books Wicca by Scott Cunningham and Wicca for One by Raymond Buckland, before I did anything. Cunningham reminds me in writing style of Orson Scott Card in his How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy. Kind of like a nice guy who wants to tell you how to do something properly. (I even imagined them looking similar.) I haven’t finished Buckland but he’s a bit wordier and uses more stilted language, especially in the ritual, and seems a bit more like “here’s how I do it”.

Let me say that from what I’ve been reading and what I knew already Wicca is not devil worship or anything that stupid. To me, honest Satan worshipers are disgruntled Christians, but ultimately Christians. (Satan didn’t exist before Christianity created him.) It’s mostly a religion of worshiping nature. Even the things in science that frighten a lot of Christians by basically proving Genesis wrong are a part of nature, so to me science and Wicca are compatible in that way. There is a thing called the Wiccan Rede “If it hurts no one, do what you want” which is more or less the moral code. If you also add on that everything you do comes back to you three times, it makes doing good more important. (And it has to be true since I cut off people while driving all the time and last Sunday about five people cut me off during a single trip, it sounds silly, but…)

I’m also getting back into Tarot. I find it an interesting way to figure out your little problems. I’d like to be able to read them without needing a book, but I’m too lazy to actually sit down and study them. I am beginning to remember important details about some of the Major Arcana. The Death card is about renewal and new beginnings. The Devil is about being held in place by your own ridgedness. The Fool is about being lighthearted in an endeavor. Kings tend to represent men, queens women and both tend to be of authority. Wands are of the mind and creative pursuits. Pentacles (or rings, or coins, etc) represent wealth and worldly endeavors. You’ve got me on the other two … lol Wands are fire, pentacles earth, cups water and swords air.

I’m announcing it here so the authorities can track me down and do whatever they need to do, I’m going to break a state law and I don’t mean traffic violations. Probably on Sunday morning. I lost my hiking stick a few months ago. My guess is that probably Amani or Akeem Norris (two of the Scouts) stole it as a joke. So I’d like to replace it with something cool looking and natural so a dowel rod is way out. My big crime is going to be going down to the Fall of the Ohio State Park and taking a nice looking piece of driftwood. I’m thinking about getting a saw from my dad’s shed and sawing off the bottom of it and simply hiking out with it. If I get stopped I’ll point to the saw marks. Not to mention I’m going to go before the Interpretive Center opens so that most likely no one will be there. Once I leave I’m going to use a wood burning kit or soldering iron and burn in some symbols on it like several of my astrological signs and maybe a pentacle near the top. And yes, it’ll have a Wiccan pentacle around Christian Boy Scouts. Fun, fun, fun!

Well I’ll end it here. It’s late and I need sleep.

I'm just going to mention that I do have another live journal, but if you don't know about I'll be surprised. (Most of the old readers of this know about the new one and the most likely new readers of this are off of that Mojo and they have a link for it right next to this one.) It's as "c-elliot-ritter" and it's devoted to my stories and my writing.

Someone suggested that I start a journal and since I already had one, I’m doing it here.

It’s been God-knows-how-many months since my last post and lots of things have happened (and I really should have posted about 75% of them) but I didn’t. Let me explain …

No, too much …

Let me sum up …

Starting sometime around last March or April I started going out with Tiffany. This woman was basically the 4’11”, black, stacked (42DD) version of my mother… That’s what everyone who knew both of them (Paul Nichols and myself, basically) pretty much said. If that’s completely true I have a new respect for my father. I won’t give blow-by-blow but it’s been since June that I stopped seeing her, but it’s worth getting into here.

I met her on a wonderful website called louisvillemojo.com. Wonderful website. It’s basically a regional meet-up and dating site. Since it’s not just for dating, women aren’t intimidated when you ask to talk to them. You might seriously be wanting to talk. So I’ve had some luck. I’ve met quite a few nice women from it and a shit load of not-that-nice women — enter Tiffany …

I had a date on some Friday afternoon and I was either stood up, or I got my cables crossed so bad that it didn’t happen. So I came home (to an apartment in New Albany, about one mile from IU Southeast) and fumed. My roommate wasn’t home, but he rarely was. I bicycled to McDonalds, then to the Bean Street Coffee shop, both on Charlestown Road and then back home. And got back on mojo and did my usual shotgun approach to finding a new date.

I was in the process of sending messages when someone popped up and didn’t say who they were or where they knew me from. I almost got nasty when they said she was from that Mojo. I remember the only reason I messaged her was because she was so short. (I like short women, so…) And after learning cool things like she was a librarian she basically asked me out. So since her car was in the shop I picked her up, went to see Amityville Horror (which should date this date … lol) and came back to my place. After a few hours of watching Return of the King and talking mostly, I put in Pirates of the Caribbean and we never saw the end. She stayed the night, which I liked, and we had a nice day the next day until I had to go into work. (They guilted me by saying they only had four drivers including me, and ironically when I got there they in fact could have gotten away with three.)

Here’s where thing begin to break down. The first woman I had done anything with, Shonda, and I had an argument and we hadn’t talked for a few weeks and I finally said, hello again. And told her what was going on. She was happy for me, even though she’s cynical of my dating ability. Anyhoo … I had arranged for her to come over on the next Wednesday and she said yes … and didn’t come over. Nor answer her cell phone. Until that Friday when she said she had to take her sick mother to a dietitian in Lexington, Ky. We had a nice weekend and I was satisfied.

Things pretty much went like that (including being stood up from time to time) until about one month in. She was changing jobs and she basically stayed at my place all week. By this point I really wasn’t that happy with her and on that Friday or Saturday I tried breaking up with her. She got pissed. Eventually I gave in and we “stayed together”.

Then began her standing me up 75% of the time. She conveniently didn’t come over during the week for one reason or another and it was a crap shoot about the weekend. She blamed the new job. I took her to Les Miserables. And she complained about the seats. She kept standing me up until I moved again. She hated my new apartment. (I’m not too fond of it either, but it’s home and cheap.) She flat out told me that. (She kept saying you get your money’s worth.)

Finally, I invited her over for homemade spaghetti. I’m a decent cook and I learned from my mother. I thought it was really good. She complained that I didn’t rinse the noodles and that my master chef parents would have flunked me from the school for that. Then she went on to explain how she felt that spending $100 on a meal was perfectly reasonable because she was careful with what she put in her mouth. (She used that as an excuse to not kiss, and then would give me oral sex within a few minutes. Draw your own conclusion …)

Then she didn’t contact me for 13 days. When she finally contacted me again I told her I wanted to end it. She got pissed and couldn’t figure out why I would want to do that. She tried to guilt me with her dying mother, but let’s face it she treated me like shit and then didn’t call for 13 days after an argument and insulting me for two hours.

Speaking of sex, it was terrible. I don’t know why, but I had a hard time performing. It didn’t help that she critiqued me the entire time. On that mojo she’s in a few sex-related groups, which didn’t help with the pressure. Since her I’ve had no problems. She tried to tell me it was me, but I’m sorry it was her completely. 100 percent.

Tiffany got amazingly pissed off about me wanting to call her a girlfriend. After two months she insisted she wasn’t a girlfriend. Well guess what, with that point of view, she’ll have a hard time becoming one. If I learned anything from her I learned what not to put up with in a relationship. My friend Kevin told me that his girlfriend basically was dying for him to call her that, formally.

Shonda had told me at one point that Tiffany really didn’t like me. In retrospect I have to agree. I was getting co-dependent about her. On top of that she had said that the next serious relationship she got into she wanted to get married. Now dear reader, tell me if that is realistic. You might get two years into a relationship and realize that you really don’t want to be with that person for the rest of your life, but that was what she said. I have a feeling she won’t get married until she’s 30-something because of how she treats men and then that point of view about relationships. If she gets married, she’ll probably divorce the guy because he’ll get ticked off about it.

Anyway … that’s over with me only wanting to have a serious relationship more.

Since her I have had no real prospects. I basically had a fuck buddy named Kimmy, who stopped talking to me last week. For no apparent reason. I went out on the most boring date in my life with a nurse named Jennifer, the weekend before last. She won’t talk to me now. I went out with a woman named Crystal twice, and she basically tells me she doesn’t want to see me because she met another guy who wanted a long term relationship. Dear readers, tell me that isn’t what I wanted. My only problem with her is that she had her tubed tied because she already had two kids, and I want my own kids.

Now I have a few prospect, whom I won’t name here because I don’t want to endanger the possibilities of going out with them again. My prospects on dating tend to come in groups. I’ll meet a handful of women, they’ll weed themselves out by the process of stopping talking to me. (I’m going to rant on that in a minute.) And once I go out on a couple first dates, I basically have to start over from scratch.

This leads to my rant on how women will stop talking to me, for no reason. Won’t tell me why (as in won’t respond at all), even if I ask them. I’m sorry, that’s called being a bitch and there no other word for it. Apparently a lot of women forget that other people have emotion. Even men. You all probably know by now I have insecurity issue when it comes to women. I’m a novice at best. Then when they stop talking to me, and won’t explain why, won’t even talk to me again, it doesn’t help at all. You’ve gone out with someone for a few weeks or even months and then you completely cut off contact, and won’t explain why, I’ll lose respect for you as a decent human being. Rude is too weak of a word. I have huge vocabulary and I don’t know a word, or several word, that brings how I feel about it across.

And then there’s being rejected from being long term relationship material. I’m sorry, you all know I’ve been wanting one for about two years now. I’m causally dating, but always with the intent on something more serious. I might not say it right off, but I want it. In fact I’ll even mention before the first date that I’ve never had a girlfriend and apparently that means to women that I don’t want one. Or that they don’t want to be the first one. Maybe I give off a vibe. I don’t know and given how women would rather break off all contact with me instead of nicely telling me that they want to end it I’ll probably never know. Not until one of them has enough human decency to tell me why.

I’m trying to figure out what I like in a woman, but I’ve had so little intimate contact that I can’t decide. I find that older women like the things I like more. I’m an old soul. Bob Seger is by far my favorite singer and his career peaked they year I was born. Vietnam and the dissent around that time is I love in American history. Ironically, someone alive then is way too old for me. Early 30-somethings aren’t. I put my top at 32. Older woman want to settle down and so do I.

On the other hand I’d love to date a younger woman. Every guy knows why. For me it’s probably a bit of a control issue. I’d like to be the one in the relationship who’s more mature. I’ve met several 19 and 20 year-old women who’d like to date me, but I’m sure they’ll all fall through. So I’m not sure about that, either.

I’m not sure about thin, small chest women or thick large chested women. If anyone here knows who my Susanne is they’ll know that I like thin, small chested women. However, there’s a certain niceness about having someone who’s not skinny. I like curvy women.

What I know for sure is I really like short women. Tiffany was 4’11” and I loved that. Crystal was 4’11” as well. Jennifer was 5’4”. Kimmy was 5’9” and I didn’t really like that. Kissing was a bit easier, but that’s about it. And I’m sure the shortness is a control thing as well. Considering my psychiatrist knew, I’m sure that’s what it is.

I’m sure I’ve talked too much about Tiffany and it’s probably a big turn off to women for me to confess everything about her, but it might not. Maybe they’ll think that by confessing all of that, I’m more level headed.

I’m beginning to lose faith in the female sex because of all the bullshit I’ve been putting up with, and I know it’s just how I’ve been treated. I’m a nice guy. I want to come off as a nice guy. I’m not a player. I want to settle down and start a family. If you’ve read the previous posts you’ll understand that. I don’t want to chose the wrong person, but I want to be married before I’m 30. I’m almost 27 now. Three years isn’t too soon, if I can meet someone in the next year.

I have lots of romantic ideas. I’m hoping to have a steady girlfriend this winter. I’d love to be able to spend cold nights sleeping, without meaning sex, with a woman. I don’t know why but it appeals to me. I’d love to take a nice weekend to go to a cabin, preferably with snow on the ground and spend the weekend together. Somewhere with a fireplace so I can show how inept I am about starting fires even though I’m an assistant scoutmaster.

I know it’s a cliché, but it’s a wonderful cliché. There’s a lot of reasons why they exist. Ones like that are timeless. I’m not saying a place without other heat sources or electricity or a nice actual bed. I wouldn’t care, but not too many women like that. There’s a place in Kentucky exactly like that I went to in high school with friends, that I just need to find the name of it.

Anyway … it’s almost 6:30 a.m. and I really need to be awake around noon to apply for an apartment, so I’m ending it here at 2,268 words.

Probably the best day of the month, I got a 50/50 on the first big test in my Intro to Mass Communication, I planned to celebrate and got depressed by my old culprit, loneliness. What is the point of celebrating a good test grade when you have no one to celebrate with. There is someone, in the class, with whom I would, but she has a boyfriend. We’ve been chatting online and she seems great for me, and isn’t 100% happy with him, but I’m left on the sideline waiting for something that’ll probably never happen.

What can I say? Depression over women is bigger news than moving out in January, me fooling around with a woman in the same month (no sex, but everything else), or my hero Hunter S. Thompson killing himself.

I think I’ll end it here since I’ve said all I want.