Day 61-72: “12 Sleepless Nights”

Kimmie sent me a text message the other day and told me that my writing has gotten better. I was happy to hear that from someone as talented as her. I told her that I was still behind in my blog and she suggested that I combine some of the pieces together so that I can get back to real time. I think it’s a great idea because I find it much easier to write about my day on the correct day (go figure). Trust me, there has yet to be a dull moment in my life so I will just sum up Days 61-72 in a nutshell. Although I haven’t had sex, my behavior has proven to me that I need to get a grip on what it means to be abstinent. In AA they would call me a “dry drunk” because if you have given up drinking, but refuse to go through the recovery process that is suggested, you might as well be drinking. I’ve felt like a tease more this past week and half than a woman trying to get her life on the right track. 

I made out with Latino Hot Lips twice within these twelve days. I heard from a mutual friend that he had been asking about me, so I called him and asked him what he wanted to talk about. He didn’t want to talk and I should have had more self respect for myself than to meet him twice after 11pm. I didn’t. He even gave me a hickey, the second time I saw him. There is nothing attractive about a woman with a hickey on her neck, nothing. I was checking out the damage in my rear view mirror on my neck on my way home, and freaked out…the hickey was huge! I thought about how I was going to go to work the next day with it on my neck, and then I realized that’s what makeup is for.

He was the last guy I had sex with before I went on a sex strike. I told him that breaking up with him was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and that he was the straw that broke the camels back. I told him this while I was making out with him. I’m pretty sure that since he was drunk he didn’t hear a damn thing I said or care that I was bitching the whole time. He was definetly a great sex partner, hell I think all of my exes where the best, ask Kimmie. She thinks I give them way too much credit, maybe she’s right.

I also saw my High-School-Sweetheart at my favorite local bar within these twelve days. At first glance I thought about closing my eyes and pretending I didn’t see him, but that might have made me look crazy. We talked about his wedding, his expecting wife and how they were having a boy. I was actually happy for him, and wished him the best of luck. When I first found out that his wife was expecting and they had gotten married I was jealous but like the song “Unanswered Prayers” by Garth Brooks, I was happy it was her and not me.

Let’s be honest, although I love the idea of getting married and having a family, it ain’t gonna happen anytime soon. I would have a melt down if I was pregnant at this age and married. HSS’s wife is better woman than I. HSS and I were wrapping up our conversation when he had to excuse himself to talk to his Uncle at the end of the bar before we could finish. Its safe to say, his Uncle probably told him to avoid the little slutß that’s me! I closed out my tab, waved goodbye and went home.

I’ve had a great time working with the modeling camp within these twelve days. I worked for them twice and did over 25 up-do’s for the girls and some makeup. Every time I handed one of the girls a mirror to look at what I had done to their hair, they loved it. It was a great feeling to see the little ones smiling and telling me how much they liked it. Before they left my chair I would tell them that if they hated it, I would change it. It got to be an ongoing joke with some of the girls when I would look at them and shout “Don’t lie to me, if you hate it, were gonna change it!” but not one of them hated it. I also got to work on another film set in Tysons Corner….damn I love my job!

All in all, I’ve learned a valuable lesson in these past 12 days, actions usually speak louder than words. Respect is earned and not given, and if I truly want to change my Jezebelish behavior I need to stop acting like a Jezebel. If I want to be percieved as a lady and not a slut, then I probably shouldn’t call Whitney and ask her to go to the pool with me a 6:00pm.”Who the fuck wants to go to the pool at six o’clock Veronica… that’s what a ho would do, not a housewife!” I replied “You’re right, that is ho-ish!”  I think I may have snorted when I laughed at the thought of me waltzing into the doors of the pool in a string bikini, and probably a little tipsy from a glass of wine at night. Unless I’m trying to have sex with the lifeguard, I should probaly go to the pool when the sun is coming up and not going down.

I remember when I would sneak into the pool in Pleasantville when I was younger with my friends. We would hop the fence and jump in, jump off the diving boards, make out with whomever we liked in our clique that week and hop back over the fence before the neighborhood watch started. Yes, Pleasantvillle has its own private watch team, aside from the county regulated. Luckily, we never got caught. I really can’t get away with anything these days, and I’m a terrible liar.

I just finished reading and posting a comment from a reader that is unhappy with my writing. I can’t say I blame her for viewing me as a selfish bitch because I have been one for so long. She thinks that I’m a bad influence on younger girls, and I should set a better example. The truth is that I’m not a role model, I’m just an average girl trying to get past my past. It’s too late to turn back now with this blog, and I have lost readers due to the fact that it is Day 82 and I’m still working on previous days. 

The things I write about are things that I have never forgiven myself for, and things that I need to apologize for. I have hurt a lot of people in my life including myself, and I have been self destructive since I was 14 years old. I haven’t been able to write as well without Kimmie, but I’m trying. I was completely depressed after our fight, I lost it, and the panic set in that I was alone in this adventure. I had a blog I didn’t know how to finish and my partner in crime couldn’t stand me. The only writing classes I took were at community college and that isn’t saying much. I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t publish anything until I was ready. It was a risk I was willing to take. I had to rewire my brain to not give up, and keep moving forward. I’ve had to somehow gain a confidence in my writing that I’ve never had. I feel this inner battle within myself to keep fighting the good fight and it’s hard.

The stuff I talk about is painful and shameful. My humor and light hearted approach is a coping mechanism because I’m hurting on the inside and I’d rather laugh then cry. After the fight with Kimmie I almost gave up writing altogether. I was screwed and all of my personal life was public, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I had to brainstorm on how to make it work without Kimmie, and I’m still trying to figure it out. I knew the blog wouldn’t be the same without her and that the reader’s would know, so that’s why I HAD to tell everyone. This blog is therapeutic and it’s allowing me to be honest, and hold myself accountable for my actions in the past and present. I’m not a fake and this blog isn’t a scam. I’m just in over my head and barely treading water.

Here’s to Day’s 305-294, Veronica Graham- I’m still a rookie when it comes to writing…

 

 

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