Scott Status

Ugh. I didn't want to write about this, really, but a few people have asked me what's going on with Scott, so I figured y'all probably do deserve an update. I know I've been evasive.

We continued to talk. He got the CD and decided that I must indeed love him. He insisted on telling me that every time we talked and when we hung up. He would get mad at me if I didn't say it back, so I started. Just because.

Let me be perfectly honest here: I was totally digging the attention, but I knew I could never let it go anywhere. I am not even remotely in love with him and, frankly, I don't even love him as a person. I just said it to give him just a little bit more. I still feel the remnants of the feelings I used to have for him, but that was for a relationship that was all a lie and for a man I apparently didn't really know.

Yeah, I guess you could say I began stringing him along.

And myself, too, because I suppose I just wanted to see how far he would take it, to see how much I could get from him, to see what he'd give. I just can't resist being adored, or the attention, and that's kinda all it takes to get me to respond.

So I continued to call him each day when I got out of work, and we'd still text into the evening. We made plans to get together on the weekend sometime but, as y'all know, I've been busy. He was getting frustrated because I wouldn't just drop everything when he'd decide to take a day off or whatever.

But he still continued to "disappear." Long, unexplained periods of non-communication, and then he'd reappear with little to no fanfare. Sometimes he'd say he had a headache and went to bed early, sometimes he'd say he took his son out to eat and left his phone at home...always an excuse.

Hmm. All seems a bit familiar. I've been down this road before. He admitted that he was still married, but I'm 90% sure that, even if she was living somewhere else, that she came back to the house. Based on his pattern of disappearing and reappearing, he was ignoring my texts after she got home from work, and picked them back up while she was in the shower or went to bed. Usually, I was already in bed too by the time he started returning my texts. I could set my watch by how it happened, too.

So I continued playing along. I mean, hell...what else do I have to do?

I'll be truthful about this part, too. I desperately wanted him to give me a reason to trust him. I wanted him to go out of his way to prove to me that I could try it again with him and not be crushed. I wanted to believe that I was all he'd ever wanted. So I gave him the chances.

So, last weekend, he said he wanted to come down and spend Saturday with me, cruising Galveston. I told him Saturday wasn't going to work, because I was going to have brunch with my grandfather, Mom, and The Boy. I explained that I haven't been talking to my granddad nearly as much since school started, and this brunch was a necessity and non-negotiable. He tried to talk me out of it, but I wasn't going to change my plans for him, of course. Not when my family's involved.

So eventually, Friday night, he said he would come down on Sunday and we could get together. I told him we needed to plan out how we were going to do it, and he said okay. Everything was all lovey-dovey and gooey, and I figured everything was fine.

But then on Saturday, when I was texting him, he was ignoring me. Eventually he sent one back, saying something rude about me standing him up. It all kind of went downhill from there, and I made a snide comment about how everything is always all about him, and that if he really wanted to see me, he'd work WITH my schedule, instead of expecting me to drop everything.

And then I didn't really say anything to him until Wednesday. I knew he had the day off, so I sent him a few texts. Nothing. Then he sent something about how I make it too hard, that he just doesn't have it in him to try and that he just can't do it.

I basically told him that was probably why none of his relationships ever work: because it DOES take work. I wished him luck with the toothless, inbred gold-diggers up there in East Texas and reminded him that if he ever wanted a real woman who was more than just a warm hole, he could call.

But then he wanted to continue on with the BS. So it became this back-and-forth thing where he tried to tell me that I was too high-maintenance and I expected too much out of him, and that he tried all he possibly knew how to and so on.

I reminded him that he had done absolutely nothing except buy me lunch one time, disappear, not return phone calls, and refused to take me into consideration when trying to schedule meet-ups. That certainly doesn't equal "all he possibly knew how to." I guess I was a little mean, and that's okay. He kept trying to keep it open to future interactions and I basically told him, "You think you know me. You don't. I've got 10 years of improvement under my belt since last we spoke. The difference between the old Stillie and the newer Stillie is that I don't need a man. You just can't be alone, which is why you've cheated on every woman you've been with. I don't need you or your childish games. I'm better off without you, that's for sure."

I ended up saying something about "at least The Boy's trying to save our relationship, and I need to be party to that," or something to that effect. I got back a text that said, "A-HA! I knew The Boy was the reason you were holding back!"

I said, "No, Scott. I was holding back because I don't trust you and I'm not going to ditch my entire life for you, after you waltzed back in a month ago."

We finally ended all of it the other day when he said something about "that's okay. next time i'm down in your town, we can still go grab a steak, right? your friend, scott."

I told him to shove it, that he wasn't my friend and if he had the urge to contact me again in another 10 years, to lose that idea. So he said, "Fine. I will lose your number. Good bye forever A****."

Finally. I'm through with these stupid, childish games, I thought. But then, I log on my Facebook today to accept a friend request, and what do I see there? A final, pathetic attempt at a jab at me. "Now I know why I left 10 years ago," he says.

Oh, whatever. He left because he was a liar and a cheater and I caught him and literally ran his ass out of town. He did it again this time because I didn't fall at his feet, give in to him, and give him a way out of his current situation.

His wishy-washy attitude was driving me crazy. One minute he'd be all "how's my baby this morning?" and calling me his girlfriend and shit. Then he'd say shit like, "That's okay if you don't want to come up here today. I 'll just leave you alone, then. Good bye A****..." and do that passive-aggressive bull.

First off, I don't like people making decisions like that for me. Don't tell me I won't like something, or that it's not good enough for me, or whatever. I have a mind. I can use it. I'll decide what I do and don't want, thanks.

He said he had petitioned for divorce and that he had a lawyer. He told me he was legally separated. Well, that's a lie, because there is no such thing as "legal separation" in the state of Texas. He knows I went through a divorce! Why would he try to lie about shit when I know the truth?! And he went on to say that he wasn't sure if the lawyer had filed or not, that he didn't know if she was going to be served, and so on. He refused to talk about specifics of the petition because he said all he wanted was to keep his house, his cars, and his business. She could have all the rest - he didn't care. He just wanted it over with. All of it was a lie. If she really did cheat on him, wreck his Vette in a drunken stupor, and move out of his house and into another man's house, am I really expected to believe that he's not going to outline specifics in the petition or even know its current status? If she fucked him over that hard, would he really just let her have everything? FUCK NO. My ex husband didn't even cheat on me, and I stripped him of every thing I possibly could. I debilitated him in every possible way. No way would Scott just roll over and let her ruin him. His first wife did that. He wouldn't let it happen again.

I eventually came to realize that Scott came up with every excuse in the book to run away. He wanted me to chase him, to beg him, to tell him how much I wanted him and needed him. Not once did I ever say stuff like that. When he realized that I wasn't the co-dependent, weak, and incapable person I used to be, he realized he couldn't lie to me and get away with it. He knew I wouldn't let him use me as a doormat. All of a sudden, that wasn't quite as attractive to him anymore.

If I really wanted to fuck up his life, I could totally do it. I have his wife's parents' numbers, her brother's, and I found both his daughter's and his son's email addresses. I could make it so that his life would be a living hell for awhile. I'm vindictive. So why am I not doing it? Because I just don't give enough of a shit.

Part of me wants to. I mean, I can keep sending letters and eventually someone besides him will get it out of the mailbox. But why? He's miserable, living a jacked up life of his own creation, and he'll continue to suffer because he's a dishonest adulterer. He's a liar. He hasn't changed one bit and he will suffer the consequences of that.

And then, just a few days ago, I got a text from him that said, "Hi baby." And he just started all over again. He's been texting me all evening, talking about how he's sitting in his chair with Pup-Pup, crying, listening to the CD I made him because it's just all so true, and he can't live without me and he needs me now.

HE'S MADDENING AND I WANT IT TO EITHER STOP OR NOT. I hate wishy-washy people.

So that's where we're at right now. And there's no chance of seeing him this weekend; it's The Boy's birthday. I'm off all next week and don't have to go back to work until November 30th. Of course, Scott's off all next week too, so we'll see if he tries to weasel his way down here to see me. I keep telling him that actions speak louder, so if he really loves me, he'll prove it by doing instead of just saying and not doing. *snorts* It's so funny to fuck with this guy, because I know he's sitting there reading that going, "Damn. I don't want to have to try at anything..."

I shall let y'all know how it goes...
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What Am I Full Of, Exactly?

I have a friend who, every time he calls me, shouts my old nickname into my ear as loud as humanly possible. This is weird to me for 2 reasons: 1) I am not a frat boy and, 2) we're not, like, 21. Nevertheless, he never fails to deafen me for one blindingly embarrassing moment when he screams, "A**** VODKASON!" obnoxiously loud into my ear upon my 'hello?'

First off, no, my real last name is not Vodkason. If it were...hell...that would have been a horrible omen, huh? Although that would explain quite a bit.

But I digress.

When I was in college, even as a 27-year old (LOL!), I still partied every night. I mean, 750ML Bottle of Vodka kind of partied. I challenged myself to see how many orgasms I could get the Guy of the Night to help me out with. It was crazy, stupid, self-destructive, expensive, but holy mother of god...it was fun. And I still made the dean's list every blasted quarter, because I worked my little hungover ass off like crazy to make the grades. Somehow, it worked.

But my deal was vodka. I liked Absolut Mandarin, Smirnoff or Stoli in either regular or vanilla, or Tito's Handmade. It was just part of who I was, kind of like the Marlboro menthols whose stench I carried with me everywhere.

So, anyway, there was this English class I was taking at my university (i believe it was a grammar class, to be specific), and the silly little handouts the teacher gave us used really fucked up shit as sample names. For instance, if the story was about a shopkeeper who was sacrificing quality for a profit, the guy's name would be Guy Greedson. And, if there was a kid who was happy and jovial in the story, his name might be Les Laughson. The teacher in the story might be Terry Teachson. You get it, right? Regular name + relevant character trait + 'son.'

So, one night I was sitting up at the bar with my friend King, and I was working on this homework that included people with the names like 'Fanny Friendson' and the like. King leaned over and said, "What the FUCK is that you're working on? Lesson plans for your field work or something?" (ahh, the good ol' days prior to teaching...)

"No. It's work for a regular class. Stupid gerunds and weird Salvador Dali-esque crutch-looking sticks for words. Damn, I can't get this diagramming shit."

King made some more fun of my assignment, and then began making comments on the people's names. "How did they come up with this ridiculous BS?"

"I don't know for sure because, you know, I'm not a publisher of educational materials, but it looks like they just paired up a first name with some words expressing character and added a 'son' to the end of it."

"Huh?"

"Okay. Look. Fanny here has lots of friends, so the publishers gave her the last name 'Friendson.' Vinnie is full of virtue, so his name is Vincent Virtueson. Get it?"

King says, "Oh, yeah. I get it. Kinda like you're A**** Vodkason, because you're always full of vodka..."

You can't argue with that kind of logic. And the name stuck. I've had lots of nicknames from other people that either didn't last very long or I refused to allow to be repeated. "Scooter" was one. "Ralph" was another. "Queen A****" was one I could kind of rally behind, alas, it didn't stick. But A**** Vodkason...now I could totally see that on a personalized license plate.

Or maybe not. Texas ain't too hip to the Driving While Intoxicated thing. But you get my point.

Why I didn't just convert all my "iamstillbroken" stuff over to the A**** Vodkason name, I'll never know. I think I was trying to keep my very real life very separate from my blogging life. They shared subject matter and stories, but I really didn't want to be discovered. Too many people knew about the Vodkason thing.

The whole Still Broken thing is an entirely different story, though. Definitely for another day.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

I feel pretty bad. Last night I made the decision to 'break up' with a blogger I've been reading for years. Maybe some of y'all know who Crystal of "Boobs, Injuries, and Dr. Pepper" is. Maybe you've just read stuff written about her. She was part of the BlogHer network at one time. Well, I had to quit her.

Her blog was the first one I found via the Internet (rather than an online blogging community) way back when. I don't remember the first post I read by her, but I remember laughing until I cried. I felt like we had a little bit in common after reading her Crazy Chronicles. That's how she became a favorite. As all of you know, if you frequent a blog that's very personal and autobiographical, you begin to become a little emotionally invested. I felt a little bit like the viewing audience depicted in the movie "The Truman Show." Crystal's life - what she chose to share of it - evoked emotion from me.

I was aware that her husband also blogged, and many of her readers enjoyed reading both halves of that marriage. That was never my thing, so I never even looked at his page. Being a voyeur into someone's life is bad enough, but seeing two sides of the story sort of felt like being a peeping tom outside their bedroom window; that was taking it too far for me. In addition, I never really read any of the comments her readers left. That also seemed a little prying - regardless of the fact that it's out there for the world to see. What was the point? You don't respond to a comment on someone else's blog anyway.

Anyway, I've noticed particularly over the last few months that there would be posts, nasty comments, and then the post would be removed, and a new post up, referring to the old one that was removed, and addressing the nasty comments, and the ability to leave comments was removed. There's a lot of gossip online about this woman's blog, for some reason, with people slamming her and judging her all over the place. I'm not here to be disrespectful of her or have a bashfest, I'm just writing this because this situation is something I've been thinking about for the blogging community as a whole.

Basically, this woman puts every intimate detail of her life out for the world to read. Some of it is very sensitive and personal in nature. Then, her husband also posts about these events (supposedly - i've never witnessed it, as i said). Then she wants to get upset when people make negative comments about something she's done or said. And she gets all reactionary. And more drama ensues.

I'm sure Crystal's is not the only blog where this happens. But what I came to realize this week is that I really have a problem trusting her now. When you post something and it's relates a horrific story, and then people react badly to it, and you delete the entry, and then say it never happened and blame it all on hallucinations and whatnot, why should I believe any of what you've written? How do I know you don't post about delusions all the time? Or how do I know that you don't just make this stuff up? You know what they say: there is no such thing as bad publicity.

This last post that was sort of the camel and the straw thing was about a dog. Something very bad went down between Hubs and Crystal, and there was a negative consequence for the dog. Then, there are new posts saying that it was all in her imagination - part of a drug-induced hallucination - and that nothing really happened to the dog. I'm not judging whether or not it's true, but what repelled me at this point is the fact that she would post it at all. I can understand full disclosure but, I mean, come on. Then to say it was all untrue? I felt like she was jacking with my emotions and that didn't feel good.

I guess my main point here is that I just don't feel like I should waste my time reading a blog that seems contrived, fabricated, or insincere. I'm not saying that Crystal isn't a good person because, honestly, regardless of the years I've been reading, I don't truly know her. What I am saying is that I find it hard to watch a trainwreck that seems as if it's largely the conductor's fault. If you lay your entire life out for the world to read, you simply can't get upset with the comments. And if you choose to show the ugly side, you can't just delete it because some people don't agree with it. I mean, what's the purpose of a blog anyway? For me, it's about catharsis and commiserating and entertainment. For others, especially those with ad-intensive blogs, I believe it's about generating income. I'm not about that.

The blogs I follow are largely comedic in nature. I also like some of the more introspective, soulful blogs. Then, I have a few that are a combination of both. There are a few blogs I read that are geared towards a specific interest I have. My favorites, by far, are the personal blogs, though. I want a peek into personal lives so I can say either, "Wow. At least I'm not as fucked up as THAT guy!" or perhaps, "Thank GOD. I thought I was the only one who felt this way about ___." I don't want to feel cheated, lied to, strung along, or as if the blogger is pandering to their readers. Writing to an audience is one thing; writing FOR the audience is another.

Anyway, I guess I'm just disappointed. I don't like drama - even when it's of my own creation - and I don't read blogs to get all stressed out or agitated. That's what began to happen when I'd log on to that blog and see a rebuttal post - especially when the original one had been removed and I had no idea what the uproar was about. I just can't do it anymore. So, I'm sorry, "B, I, & DP," but I'm afraid I just can't read you anymore. It's not you - it's me. Well, maybe a little of both of us.