Pauley's Tavern and Pool Hall

Daydreams to cope with sometimes take on lives of their own....

al·le·go·ryˈ (aləˌgôrē) noun

plural noun: allegories

   "A story, poem, or picture that can be interpreted to reveal a hidden meaning, typically a moral or political one."

   “An Allegory is a form of extended metaphor in which objects, persons and actions in a narrative, are equated with meanings that lie outside the narrative itself.

The underlining meaning has moral, social, religious or political significance of abstract ideas as charity, greed and envy.

Thus an allegory is a story with two meanings, a literal meaning and a symbolic meaning.”

   Yes, I looked it the f*ck up and with that you know what is needed to be known to understand what the Pauley’s Tavern and Pool Hall book series is about.

  Oh I should add that the censor is pretty much off most of the time. PG this story is not. PG13 neither. R yes; but beyond that?

Shhh....

Now some background info on the place ”The R*tards" go to play.

(Pauley’s term of endearment for his patrons that don’t act their age, especially when sh*tfaced.

Think about what "r*tarded" means, then how it's used in every day language to be an insulting description.

Just like calling a child a "b*stard", some words should be questioned as too f*cked up to use like they're whatever.

"Wh***" is another one with an edge, and yes these words among others will be questioned, but you as readers decide the fate of these words as they apply to your personal vocabularies.)

   Pauley’s Tavern and Pool Hall is a sort of 'speak-easy' name for The Iron Horseshoe Tavern established back in 1974 by Paul "Pauley" Kelly.

It’s called this to keep what are now known as 'hipster' invaders away, and its whereabouts only known by word of mouth.

Is it elitist?

Perhaps.

Or it is about self preservation and preventing as long as possible, their haven from being taken over by those that do not honor tradition, nor would uphold Pauley's Code of Conduct.

  New folks are welcome, as long as they can respect the School House Rules and don't complain when Lucy gets unplugged; otherwise foos are getting their a*ses expelled!

   Over the years The Tavern has become a home away from home club house for old timers and mostly blue collar roughneck man children with its latest motley generation currently in their 30’s, give or take.

Some married with children or divorced with visitation on the weekends.

They have bills to pay, money to save, jobs to not f*ck up in order to do both.

Occasionally these a*sholes may brawl and Pauley’s shotgun Grace taken out to dance, with Jukebox Lucy playing the soundtrack; but overall the place is mellow on a weekday afternoon.

   The crowd that made The Tavern its watering hole is loyal and there is a sense of kinship between the boozer drunks.

Stories this tavern has no lack of thanks to the antics of the patrons, which also include my own.

   I wrote myself in as a character using my real name because all this stemmed from a daydream I had, to keep me company while I went for long walks with detours, in my new town of residence;

Boyle Heights, California.

   Though home for me will always be my beloved

East Los Angeles, Califas

   One day I thought of a man that didn’t exist to help me move on and let go of the past, by focusing on the existing hope of the present and lessons learned.

  Perhaps it was my way to prepare myself mentally for the future because I don't have much to my name other than my imagination.

 “Mikey, Jacob, Bobby, Joe, Paul, Davey, Alex, Dennis and Lou”

   Names of made up men that are a close knit pack of pals I will never forget.

They all represent an aspect of the men I have known, both in the good and bad; but they are human, even if fictional.

They are part of the details to the symposium full of zanies.

   This story experiment at times is a sort of open love letter to men that have shown their integrity even as they also try to get things right.

These men are strong but also weak.

Happy but still stressed.

Hopeful but discouraged at times with what they feel is out of their control.

It’s a mix we all endure, but with them; I feel how unequal men still are when it comes to expressing their feelings on it all.

How do I know?

I'm a daughter of one that expressed them regardless.

   The women in this saga also are shown going through their own life roller coasters and attaining their triumphs for they too are strong and capable.

It’s just with them, the way their stories are told is different.

How different?

The goal is to show we could use a little bit of understanding from the fellas.

With their stories, I hope to tell men that not all of us are their enemies or psychos, that more often than not, there was an issue with communicating and emotions go on edge.

We can be worthy of trusting and also respecting.

I hope to tell, we can have our bad days too, even if our hairstyles look nice; and we don't always know what the f*ck we're doing either.

We do know we could be wrong also.

No really.

Women are capable of knowing they can be wrong. Getting us to admit it, now that's something else.

*cough*

I want to show the men I was able to reach through to, women can be their friends as well, and shoulder part of the old burdens that say a man must bare these alone.

Even as women, we can relate and be more than arm candy hood ornaments, "Honey can you bring me a beer?".

  But this is to reassure the males that are willing to read, they'll have a place in what is usually considered female terrain.

  Yes this is a quirky soap opera Spanglish novela, for a subculture of those that bought in to what a friend called:

"The Rockabilly Retirement Plan for Punks, Skins and Goths".

And what was surprising, the guys did get in to it as much as the gals. I mean, how can I write an open love letter to men, if I don't include what matters to and interests them?

  From the serious like Erectile Dysfunction or even the car not starting and being already late for work.

To the "Are you f*cking serious!?!" and the latter said in two manners.

One with enthusiastic glee like they scored, and the other in BOHICA despair.

Espeakin' of which....

This is a bedtime story dedicated most of all to Our Troops and 'Docs' green side or civilian; for I do know the power of a reality break, if not reading oneself asleep.

And this because I want to "Play It Forward" and yes I do mean play.

  The man I would spend countless silent moments, wondering about his happiness and safety; he was the life lesson I needed to get me out of a bad place; even as I felt helpless knowing which bad place he was headed back to.

This Army Coptor Doctor ridding one of Anansi's spiderweb threads, tied to the foot of a Dragonfly Dustoff back in Stan; reminded me why being able to control your focus, makes dealing with difficult things, easier to cope with.

The chaos will still be there, it's how you allow it to affect you, that makes a very important difference.

You either learn how to hold on and fight or you don't. That "don't" had been my concern for him.

There was a reason his story began to stand out to me.

"Yet for me that also came from the desert, compassion I also knew how to show...."

  Eyes like his and lack of smile, you don't forget.

He had the face of many that aren't returning all that well; but his face comforted me when it would look silly; but haunted when it was a stoic with unintended, resigned grace.

  So this allegory that aims to be a cult classic, does have its soul, as that odd daydream of mine, found a life of its own.

And it became a Shoretale Fable of Therapy in Motion and thinking up the answers that become the solutions.

It's all just rhyming for the reasons, that carry us through the seasons of change.

Suggestion: Look up Grandiose, Ostentatious, Pretentious, Narcissistic, Delusional, Self Absorbed Motor Mouth, but most of all Ironic Catharsis. Thank you.

Back To The Top Where It Starts

Copyright ©2017 Rev. Mother L. G. Flores. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven Please Bless All That is "Pauley's...." and May No Harm Come To This Therapy In Motion, Adult After School Special, What Happens Cuando Nos Ponemos Las Pilas, Mark In Miles Stones, for This Dreamer and Music Maker Shake, Rattle n' Roll!

Amen.

"Siempre Fiel En Lagrimas Y Sangre"

Saturday June 14, 2014

DTP/MLH--ELA/CA

  Well don't that just be jivin' and keen to f*cking swell! I may have found a new connect to help me spread the word in Texas, I'm really touched my friend believes in me and what I'm doing with this recycled daydream, to offer to help me blanket the scene there.

  I got my list of things to do step by step, more or less; so I may not be able to create an ad to pass around on FB, etc. for a while. I know I want to become not just associates with my local printer, but buddies where they are not just on my Holiday greetings mailing list, but I bring them homemade cookies or tamales!

   That has actually been on my mind for a while. I'm comparison shopping printers, from their prices to selection options. There is this one poster I want to have made of my ass looking like a heart by how I'm bent over, and have a target placed on my butt cheek that says "Where Y'all Can Kiss Meh!" I figure I can slang my ass more effectively that way, and not actually have to do anything yucky, eeeeeew! I figure the male troops and females that pitch for the other team, may get a kick out of it, that so reads like a pun hee hee...

  But yeah, I didn't forget about the fanzine limited run with certificate of authenticity, but there are also the fliers and when the gift shoppe is up, I can sell posters. The ass cheek target poster is actually a target, like the kind to shoot at when at the range. I'm pretty sure my butt cheek won't be what's aimed at in and out of the range. Hey, it's just an enlarged picture of my ass when it looked good, if someone buys it, they can treat it however they wish. If they want to keep one as a collector's item, and others to shoot whatever at, more sales for me!

  Actually that old pic of my ass made the rounds back when I was very single and moto. I was surprised by who admitted paid tribute to it. I felt complimented by that more than the other sweeties with "urges". I was told by troops in 6 out of the 7 continents they were at, that picture made them smile and feel more relaxed. It was a well intended freebie while I was still young and cute.

  I wonder if anyone would remember it being how many "patriotutes" there were since our country went to war and our troops were sent to Iraq and Afghanistan, and it's 10 yrs old.

  That term I heard about in a Canadian show called "Bomb Girls" set during WWII. I also heard "Khaki Wacky" in another period production. What these are basically, chicks that know there is something about a man in uniform -- especially when he's out of it.

  I'm not ashamed I had some fun back then and for a while, about a year; I was being proposed to at least once a month. I figure most were talking out of their asses, then found out they probably wanted the BAH so they could move out of the barracks. But when the war on terror shown it won't be an easy one to get out of and the death toll was rising, some of those proposals I felt were serious because these guys wanted someone to come back home to. As in they would stay alive for them and thinking of them helped them cope with their fucked up reality.

  My heart did go out to these fellas, and back in Stumps, at the Break n' Run I would talk and maybe respectfully dance with distance in between, with the lonesome GI's, especially the geo bachelors that missed their wives, so I would listen to them talk about them so it would feel like she's there. I seen faces light up talking about the gal wearing a yellow ribbon in her hair for them.

  It's not always Jodys hoping to score with a field widow at the bars there. Those are service members that cheat with the wives that become single when their service member husbands are out in the field. If most just became swingers and don't ask, don't tell, I think the divorce rate would go down. Just an opinion I'm not alone with thinking.

  One Senior Drill Instructor tried giving me his dogtags but I wasn't chasing them. I was lonely also, but I wasn't going to take them and lead the guy on. That would be fucked up. I already was questioning my promiscuity that had to do a lot with my PTSD and bipolar disorder. The stories I have, wow!

  Point is, the guy that didn't get to make a gal his girl before he deployed so she can write him and him call her; it was the chicks that dug the whole military fetish that hopefully gave them a one night stand to think back on.

  I was more voyeuristic with my sluttness, I really didn't care much for loveless sex unless I was doing it as a way to hurt myself in the way I got hurt big time; which was my date rape at 14yrs old by two boys and their friends watched and stole my clothes leaving me naked, except for my shoes. That's where a big chunk of my PTSD came from and it felt safer to do a picture exchange, than actually hook up. The farther away the guy was, the better. It was friendlier, and there was conversation that was thought provoking, no bullshit.

  That's the fucking reason the guys would say made them sweet on me. I had stuff to talk about, was very warm with my words, I was a patriot even though I was @narchopunx before, but some of them, including officers, were also. And they thought I was pretty, which after one major rejection that shook me up because my looks were the reason I wasn't made the girl that the guy is seen with under the sun; though we went through a pregnancy scare, I dodged a bullet with him that's for sure. It took other men to help reprogram my self-esteem/self perception.

  Now I think I clean up well when I put the effort in, but I'm ten years older, had two kids and in therapy to better myself. I do have a lot to offer the "older" gents, but for some reason I got young bucks still wanting the teacher/student dynamic, and one named himself my "Cougar Food".

  Besides older gents tend to seek naive sex kittens when they get in playboy mode or are looking for a way to not feel so old. If he can score with the young betties, then he thinks he still got it. I know I was one naive sex kitten.

  I was 18, he was 36 yrs old and I really was his dirty little secret which is why I do jump up the asses of men that should remain gentlemen regardless of the temptation of no longer being jail bait. I'm also ready to jump up a young girl's ass if she going for the sex kitten look, and isn't mentally prepared to hang with adults that should show more restraint. Also advise them, some guys just see her as a hoochie easy score; that are disposable and are considered most likely "dirty"; as in she's a walking advertizement to get an STD check STAT! Guys as sluts however are considered studs the more tail they get, especially younger.

Returning to my resistance to go cougar...

  There was "Calf" that named himself because I said I'm not in to young bucks anymore so he asked if I would consider a calf instead. He wasn't even old enough to buy me a drink! Interesting hanging out with him.

  Then those two cool cats I'd drink a beer with again, old enough to buy it, but baby faced to me.

  Now there is this one I'm ready to name, I am having fun playing battle of the wits with, for the comebacks, when he's flirting. He's in his 20's even if late, that is still too young for me; BUT for $5 (plus s & h), a poster target of my heart shaped ass can make MAKE YA HOLLAH!!! And I'll autograph it to boot! That read like a pun too lol...

Here's some more honesty as the risk taker I am:

  People keep trying to set me up on dates. I'll hang out, maybe if we have a good rapport over the phone, but no blind dates. And the one dating profile I have, it is obvious I'm looking for something in particular, and that person is a needle in a haystack. But what I told the last well meaning family friend that wanted me to meet one of his friends, I told him that someone is still on my mind and emotionally I'm not available. The problem with this is, it takes years for me to let go of hope, or something really extreme has to turn me off where I'm telling a guy, again, to stay the fuck away from me.

  It takes a lot for me to seal off, but not really. Bullshit that annoyed me, gone. But for those I was involved with but there was no closure and I was left hanging and crying; or the goodbye we said wasn't final. I don't want to be the woman married/committed men tell, if they could go back and told me what they felt so I can choose them, they may be happier. It did hurt to be told years after the fact, and even the creep that kept me on the side, I cried many tears before but the irony makes me think  that I didn't end up with them because I'm meant to be with someone else that I'd be happier with.

  To be honest some more, men that can respect I am not emotionally available, would have a better chance at getting to go out to eat and sight see, stroll, what have you; than if they asked me out and call it a date. When the word "date" is used, it means someone wants to get to know me in a different way than my longer known and closer male friends get to. I hear date, I'm thinking of potential internet top fucking friends boolchit and relationship status changes of "So and so is in a relationship with My Name". That reminds me of CJ.

  He told me after he divorced, not directly after, time had passed. But about 2-3 months of us no longer having a long distance "thing" he ties the knot with someone that was more local understandably, but it did hurt finding that out. I forget how I did. Anyway he's seeing someone when I looked him up on MySpace when it was still cool; but again like those few others, he tells me his wife before she became his ex wife, she somehow seen his email contacts list and my nickname back then was "Cassi" from "Cassiel Armory". She sees a "Cassi Walden" and asks who is this person. I think he bullshitted and said I was a relative; but he felt he had to share that. He had his chance, like the others. I just wasn't worth being told what's felt when it was. We said goodbye.

  I feel that was cold of me. It's the truth though. They had their chance and they let me slip away. To be told they thought of me instead of only their mates for a moment that shows not all women have been forsaken, I don't want to be come between anyone, .... Like I told one, he wouldn't have met his wife he did love enough to marry, they wouldn't have their child together. He understood I understood, but I would have taken the next step to couple if he did speak up then. My kids wouldn't be who they are if he had spoken up however. It turned out as it was meant to.

  But yeah, pictures of me looking pretty, and sometimes 'hot and tempting' is added, I'm fine those being seen because it's a picture of me, not me. What a guy imagines is his business. I'm not the first gal that took pictures that gave erections, and I won't be the last. I doubt my face or figure, even tatted up and posed tastefully seductive, would make me known. It's my writing besides other business ventures I have better chances of being remembered for. Actually scratch that, I'd like to be remembered for the charity work I've done through out my life.

  Think Audrey Hepburn mixed with a little Bettie Page. That's not so bad, but this is why those pictures I would integrate as part of Pauley's:

  Like I said, it takes me a very long time to let go of hope and after I let go, there is still grief present. I like being a wild child, which is why I didn't run off and joined a convent so I can become a nun. I'm not kidding.

  I already had my children, a little boy and girl. I leaned on my spirituality to get me through post divorce, but I was that hurt, I was seeking sanctuary from anymore heartache. That's running away, not dealing. Also I'm more of a cultural Catholic because I feel my own thing. It doesn't fit the mold, but I do take comfort in Angels and Saints and see Holy Mother Mary as the make over of a Goddess Matriarch Energy.


  I would like to try the dating thing if a guy somehow makes it past all the filters BY HIS OWN CHOICE. I could pick 'em all I want, but unless a guy wants to be picked, and then add, by me; there isn't going to be any love connection or sparks, chemistry or the feeling that I'm pretty darn close to being this dude's dream girl. Those filters aren't to keep every guy out, but most of them, especially the more they want me to focus on them. I value my heart, a man has to be my dream guy to get close to it, if he wants to hold a certain spot in it reserved for one person only.

  That's wisdom I needed to be reminded of, I'm glad I remembered, but irony is as the male friends that have asked me out but I wasn't feeling it the way they were; they say if they seen me in person first, like at a bar, they would be too shy to go up to speak to me. That's a quirky compliment, so it's nice they get to email first,and  then talk on the phone, and turn out they aren't as shy because there is still a curtain, safe distance to relax with, then show how cool they are. One dude I hope I can run in to again, because it took me over a month to log back in to POF and his message deleted before I could get to it, he said by our conversation, he could tell I'm intimidating to men. He was cool with me being up front I'm not attracted, but we emailed for the entertaining convo.

  That wasn't something I wanted to be told, but his opinions so far I listened to, because he seemed wise and was older with experience. If I was a dominatrix, (keep it in your fantasies dickheads) then that would be a profitable attribute for my profession. I am amazed how much a man with a quirk is willing to pay to be dominated for a "play date". I got out of that scene before I went in too deep. I have considered applying at this dungeon now that I'm older and it seems like an easy hire. I'm trying to save $3,000 but I can start with $1,000; so I can negotiate with a family law attorney that can help me with my custody and visitation case with Monkee. I'll get in to the details elsewhere, but it's short term, it's writing material opportunity, it pays well with no degrees required for entry level.

  In The LA Weekly I seen ad for a dungeon and it  said "Women, we're always hiring." To me it read like chicks quit on them quick. They can kiss my ass too if they try to get me to be a sub and some stranger be my top. I'd freak out seriously if a man tries to get off laying a single finger on me or flog, paddle, whatever the fuck! I don't care how much I'm being offered to pretend I enjoy it. Private practice, I don't think so either. Me dominating on the other hand?

  Anyway back to the story, or one of them...

  The last date I did accept to go on in April, because I wanted to open my mind; the guy wasn't sure how to go for it and make a move. We're cool, don't talk as much since the girl he went out on a date with after me, they really hit it off so they are going steady and I'm glad; but I had to help him out. Not something I would hold against a guy, but he confirmed, the way I am, can turn a confident guy elsewhere in to a shy, nervous, clumsy school boy.

  That I dug it a bit because I didn't go to high school, so it kinda makes up for it. A grown man showing he can get all "Aw chucks, gee willikers, you're really purdy (voice crack) Uhm... ah... would you... I mean... what do I mean? Uhm, would you like to go out on a date with me?" I don't think the last guy knows how rare it is when I go out on dates, and for him to make it to 2nd base also, since I decided a guy has to earn his way on to plate. Work it pendejos, in other words. Labor Day, September 2, 2013 was the last time a guy got to hit a home run, and he may hold that title for many years to not come. That was a pun. Moving along, ahem...

  The one on my mind, I don't know what he thought or felt when I asked him out, and was going to pitch in to fly him in or take the train to Los Angeles. There was a stipulation I was upfront about. If he was single after my divorce was official, since I didn't anticipate it would take years; I wanted to be available for real though time had passed since I moved back to my hometown. But if he was single, I asked if he'd like to go out on a date with me. He said though L.A. was far away, that yes he would.

  He was aware of the little crush that turned me stooooooopid, I stopped apologizing about that a while back, it was pointless and one spiritual adviser said to stop feeling guilty. So I did. Anyway, he was the first person that came to mind from all my single male friends I knew, to ask not so much to go on my first date since getting divorced; but help me ease back in to the dating pool, as a friend I trust. Being realistic, I was sexually frustrated, so we probably would have had a nice tryst I'd remember, but him, maybe when he's nostalgic and felt like looking back rather than forward. I would have lost his friendship that way too. I rather process pushing him out of the way and pushed him away since it was too much change too quick for me so I spooked.

  I learned a day/night of passion is the extent of meeting up most of the time if traveling long distance. If the guy was the gentleman I asked out, maybe a kiss, but he wouldn't let himself become my rebound hook-up that tend to be disposable or troubled, if he wanted me to stick around his life a while.

  I honestly think it was a mercy date he accepted to go on and being we weren't local, all we would have was that one date, and he'd return to where he lives, and if I'm lucky he would take a while before fading away with not replying to any form of contact I was trying to make. In other words, I would be left hanging without him saying goodbye that would have helpped bring closure.

  Quickly on that dudes, don't do that to anyone that believed they had a connection with y'all. Be honest and up front, because women are left with a zillion questions and it goes as far as them questioning their self worth if they really got in to you.

  Also that bullshit habit tends to make some chicks say they started to think like a guy, so it becomes "Fuck 'em. NEXT!" That's not cool.

  I may get hurt believing, but I don't want to be that callous and act as if it's a solution to being sick or bored. Like I said earlier, I was ready to runaway and join a convent for sanctuary, and never know the touch of a man again. That was drastic, glad I didn't go there either. Overall be considerate and direct if you guys decided you have to go, but say goodbye and wish them to have a nice life. Say it like that, or I'll offer this freebie:

"Hey, I came/called/I'm emailing (NO TEXT!!!) to tell you goodbye. Stuff is on my mind and I want to be alone to figure it out because I need to do this for me. It's nothing personal against you and it's not something you can help me out with; I hope you can understand if not accept this is my truth. I feel I would be leading you on If I didn't say I'm not going to be keeping in touch, and you deserve better than that. Thank you for the times we did share, you truly are a special person; you and those times are not forgettable, and I do see I'm forfeiting it all with you.  I need to say goodbye and this is where us crossing paths ends. Please don't mind me saying for you to have a happy birthday, every birthday since I won't be around, I do see birthdays as special. I wish for you much happiness, and to meet a guy that is worthy of you, but after you pursue your dreams so he doesn't distract you. Have a nice life (their name), I genuinely mean that. Take care and bye. ~(your name)"

 Patronizing as fuck that was potentially. If you don't speak like this, adapt it otherwise they'll know you got this gentle let down and release, off the internet. Also pay attention to how there is no apology for being honest and upfront. And that it was elaborated that you know yourself and your needs. Dissect it in your minds, and see what differs from previous let downs you've had to do. I do suggest the use of the word "forfeiting" which is knowing you accept there is no going back either. The dream part and distraction, that for me is a guy suggesting not to jump in to a rebound relationship. The birthday part, I'm sentimental about them and so are chicks. Ever hear the song chorus "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to; cry if I want to. You would cry too if this happened to you." sung by Lesley Gore. Yeah it's no fun missing a guy on my B-Day, but I'm growing up and seeing that is not the end of the world if he's not my date or sent me a gift or some other token. I can get past it.

  If things didn't play out how they have and now I see I am better prepared to navigate through life, but if things were different, I wouldn't have been inspired to come this far with an idea. I'm actually putting money I don't have much of, on this idea and friends and my own psych doctors are my community of encouragement because they know where I want to take this idea and they like that.

  Time will heal, I know this to be true. So the memory of a hope that lingers, I rather deal with that, than get in to another relationship I didn't want to be in because I went stoooooopid in a different way. I was too nice then, wanting to be the cool chick comforter, praised, and then I was free to go on my merry fucking way when I stop being the trophy. Again stuff getting worked out in therapy.

  You know I feel like I'm setting myself for a self-fulfilled prophesy, that I would come very close with someone, enough to eclipse that memory, and they decide that they changed their minds and not because I jumped the gun. They seen I wasn't who they were looking for, and they leave. I would move on from me too if my mind and heart weren't in to it, focused on them. I still clung to a never was that was not there, real, where we could do all the fun stuff I missed out on.

  No one, men especially I learned, want to live in the shadow of a memory. I think with him, it was "like" at first sight when I seen his profile picture, then I read a little of what he had to say. I was looking for pen-pals, he was just looking around; I wouldn't act on it, I was married and he's not a Jody. He really was a cool dude though a grasshopper. It didn't work out as I thought I wanted, but I will still defend his honor with this. Post "Bomb's Away!" and "Hi There!" on "The Bridge To Nowhere", I am not his keeper.

Okies this is where I pity party for real if you are mapping the flow of this update blog.

  Before my age is the reason I stopped being attractive physically, though I will do my best to moisturize and preserve myself as long as possible so I'd graduate to GILF, I keep picking guys that aren't the best for me. This meaning, they don't see what other men that would call them lucky, see. And if I'm intimidating grown men and some regress back to school boy with so much shyness and thinking a girl like me wouldn't be interested so why bother bullshit... I'm probably will find my sanctuary as a celibate workaholic and act more like a Jedi Chaplain though Yoda would be wise and say something like (I'm pulling this one out of my ass, it's gonna take a bit).

"Fear not loneliness, for you are not alone. Friends you have, plenty love for you they feel. Romance is destination not. It is not happiness secured. The Force plan for you it has. What plan that is, you will know when ready you are. Ready you are not. Release your fear for it leads to the Darkside, and there happiness you will not find. Focus on living, grieving time will help pass. The Force is with you padawan. And fake quote this do not use in Pauley's. George Lucas fuck with his shit you do not do. Trust me kid, there you don't want to go."

*Sigh* that made me feel better, but taking it now for sure towards whining.

  I'm a fucking geek by nature! No particular specialty like before, but what I do remember liking, male geeks tend to say I scored a lot of cool points with them. And I'm still stuck on that doesn't make me approachable unless it's through social media, before hanging out because they seen I wasn't much different than them, and they got the vibe I'm cool peeps and friend material.

  Now wait until I get braces and my glasses, besides enroll in college. I so can reclaim my nerd status if I applied myself. But be a cute "nerdette" because I glam up enough with make-up, that being a metal mouth four eyes, would kinda be kinky for the ones that were surprised themselves that combo would do it for them. But I was told as refreshing it was to have what I was told for them was, "intelligent conversation", men have told me some men tend to be intimidated by gals that are smart, or better said, smarter than them. If I was a jerk, I would stick my nose up in the air thinking a guy was too dumb for me to take serious enough to converse with. Them being jackasses and me cutting the convo short isn't being a bitch.

  If psychical attraction wasn't so important to me, and this because of being rapped then rapping myself by having sex I honestly didn't want to have; then there would be no needle in a haystack odds anymore. There are so many awesome men I'm meeting, but I'm just not attracted.

  A girl friend of mine I know wasn't as aware about me being rapped how I was and how many times after. Look it up yourselves. It is very common for sex violence victims to be victimized again. That's another tangent.

  Well we weren't communicating effectively. I admire what are the attributes she seeks in guys to date, mine are similar, the difference she didn't understand is that I'd like to end up with someone I want to have sex with because I was really psychically attracted. 

  I mean where I feel safe also, I'm secure in their feelings for me because we were friends first for a long time, and they liked I came to them, so it is my choice to be intimate with him. Well if all that is in place, I may be rusty, maybe him too, but the erotica I sampled described what my imagination comes up with. In other words I want to end up with the guy that turns me on even before he tries to show his skills because there was something about him that took him to over the top status, my eyes are focused on him, nothing personal.

  The pregnancy scare creep, he shown me why I should never put a guy getting off before me no matter how in to him I was and too stoooooopid to know better. He was cocky saying he could make me climax, not once did he ever. Our co-workers years later after running in to one of them, he said they all thought he was a joke for "running like a bitch when you were around. And when you walked by and you couldn't see us do it, we all would check out your ass. He's a fag."

  Again it took other men to deprogram some of the psych outs guys did because they were dicks more than adults. Calling a guy a fag because I don't do it for him overall, is unfair. He's allowed to chose what does do it for him, him stringing me along how he did and the drama past that, that makes him not worthwhile; but to someone else, they see the good he wants to show.

  Besides knowing he's a "little bitch" to other men, was enough to really be over him. He stared at me for a couple of hours at a party before he got the nerve to get close to check. I was dolled up at a Corps B-Day ball. The guys did tell me when I was sad because of him, I was too much woman for him to handle. They didn't break that one down for me so I'm guessing they meant I was out of his league and he fucked up letting me slip away. Whatever on what was the case, I did love him and he was the reason I even got mixed up with military dudes off all ages and ranks. That read wrong.

  The Caucasian officers liked I was feisty and Latina that was able to keep the conversation flow interesting and entertaining. The old timers liked that I would attentively listen to their Sea Stories. Retired DI's along with current Tops, liked I was moto and a sweetheart. The NCO's wanted me to enlist because they felt I would pull my weight and stand up for them, besides I looked good in a skivy shirt *cough* The Lance Criminals and bellow liked that I was maternal. How my ex Doc got me to elope with him was really me following a hunch and I earned my shoretales. My son came out of it, even with the drama, but if there was no him, there would also be no Pauley's. But the weirdest part, it really did feel I had to walk my path by his side for a while, and I think it was to understand what corpsmen and medics have to teach that goes beyond medicine.

  Anyhoo "Cute doesn't mean good."

  My surrogate Jewish mother of a therapist shared that gem, but going back to my girl friend and I not communicating effectively. I think she thought of what I would consider cute being what I was fed by fashion magazines and whatever that says only muscular men are hot, whatever. Maybe not, but I did feel it was best to squelch that conversation that turned in to a little debate, and those tend to turn in to trying to convert others. I love her too much to lose her friendship over a difference of opinions.

  Well in my mind, I remember what I thought was cute throughout my life and how it has evolved. The one on my mind, I actually thought he was cuter when he was wearing his "big boy" pants. I've seen him look like he could be a model but he's not tall enough for the mold. Yes he was attractive, but I focused more on his eyes and lack of smile, after a while. Then I seen him look sickly and I still thought he was beautiful but my instinct was to treat him extra nice because it did look like there was something wrong and he was internalizing. He also showed he had a sense of humor in one picture he was wearing a costume. Though depressed, he still looked like a fun guy. It has been said that those that cried the most can laugh the hardest.

  I seen him with whiskers and it was growing on me, though one pic he looked like a warlock with them, scary, did not like that picture at all! I seen him with his hair greased up, and then soft, without any gunk in it. When it looked soft I imagined taking the scent in of the shampoo and conditioner he used mixed with his natural musk. Wouldn't even need to wear cologne to make me want to whiff like guys that over do it with the stuff, think. I know he's a greaser, but without it in his hair, I dug how he looked natural.

  Last picture of him I seen, his face filled out, his brow lids were more noticeable, he kinda had a smile that I described as "timid" every time I found an opportunity to say something about it in all the pictures that caught it. I seen when it was huge, and then when it went away with the pics he did share after she was gone. He considers his body type average. I've seen that, and also when he was athletic and the gals really noticed him. But honestly, I liked him best as an Average Joe, and he's aging well. The greys I seen in his whiskers he shaved off, did it for me somehow, like weird huh?

  I'm actually picturing him older than what he is now and a couple tears escaped, yeah I know. His face and what he didn't hide that made him cool once, the best way I could describe it, I was curious enough I wanted to see his face and body evolve. The old hope still wants to see this up close, but from a distance I would have been content with. Even if he remarried, if we were friends I wouldn't not like to see him with his wife. If they chose each other and they are happy, my hope is to see him smile huge again. It was that awesome of a smile.

  Yeah, fucking fan club status right there, or maybe I'm describing what the bottom line is when it came to seeing him smile again.

  But trying to rebuild a bridge or open a fucking door, nothing worked, so it's something I'm dealing with. My real hope is that I do work it out in therapy while still young enough to have sex and the guy I'm with is healthy enough that he won't have a heart attack on me. And if it is worked out right, there is no more slipping back seeing him as an ideal when he really is stranger I've thought of longer than I've known him or of him, I don't know right now other than more tears formed.

  Like fake Yoda said, The Force has a plan for me, and I'll know what that is when I'm ready, but for the time being, I am not ready so yeah. My fear is that I won't enter any long term relationships that last in to my old age. Both exes I was with, just under the 5 year mark when I couldn't take it anymore of being with them. Growing to love someone doesn't work. It has to be real from the beginning, even in stages, at least with me, to stand a chance at surviving me spazzing because the real deal that is mutual is foreign to me. My first love and heartbreak set the standard.

  Someone that treats me better I may last a little while longer than the 2 week mark where I'm most likely to panic. It's been studied, and research has found some personality types don't thrive in long term relationships, or it has to REALLY be with someone they love very deeply and they don't want anyone else and where they want to be, is with the right one for them. I'm one of those with that issue, it's not just a guy thing.

  Maybe I am ready to know part of the plan The Force has for me.

  Admitting the problem is half of the solution. I'm up front, I know that I am not done grieving but I am doing less of it the more I do talk about it. I got my story telling and other projects besides actual important stuff I'm not done taking care of and placing the pieces of my puzzle where they go or I get creative and make it fit like art at least.

  My idea of romance isn't skewed, I just haven't met a suitor I become curious about. If I do cool, maybe we stand a chance if we did go on a date that is seen as a date. If it doesn't pan out, life is still beautiful with or without a mate. I really rather move on from hoping so much, I get to be lucky like two friends of mine that recently got married; actually my friend the groom posted earlier about how in an hour and a half he was getting married.

  The chick I knew from Stumps and I was there while shit was going down and then really hit with her ex, I seen her and her groom dressed up to get hitched. She really is lucky, I think she knows that. I didn't mean the dress and actual wedding, though it looks nice. My exes didn't even get down on one knee for me, and yet I went along. It's okay, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with them so a wedding, including the dress, would have been an eventual waste of resources. Funny how I'm a dreamer and pragmatic at the same time *sigh*

  Some people just don't remarry or recommit, and some people accept that as the cards they got dealt and they live lives worth living. I know I'm not alone and my looks, I'm still getting checked out and when I'm no longer a GILF, there still are those old pictures. Bettie Page that I read an interview of hers in Playboy that yes I do like for the articles; saying that one of the reasons she didn't do interviews after she retired, where her picture would be taken, she rather people remember her as she was when she was young, than see her as an old woman. The one that interviewed her said you could still tell it was her by her smile. I don't mind if I become a Betty White though, that aged gracefully in front of the camera. You do know she posed nude when she was younger?

  Yup she was a wild child. She was a trip back then too and I do believe she is what Chuck Norris fears because even he has to be afraid of someone.

Round about way...

"Where Y'all Can Kiss Meh!"

  That's more about telling my fears and insecurities to kiss my fucking ass. Assholes both skank and dick, I don't give a fuck what they do, as long as they stay away from me, or when we are in close proximity, keep it civil and save the shit talking for after in each of our directions apart.

  I'm not thinking it's a bad thing to have a view that Plans B-Z could help define boundaries. After a while no back up plans to implement are required. My goal in life is to be at peace with it. I had a rough start yes, but I am in a better place, mostly being I'm not insane anymore from the clusterfuck of a life time. I'll be fine, I'm more optimist than pessimist, I think me starting to update and then trail off, things came up to the surface. I processed them. I think I'm ready to post this. I'll post it on Pauley's website also.

It's for you kiddos! TIA ~"Auntie Cassi" (Like Uncle Sam, but cuter aye!) j/k ~ Lizett Gina

 

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Heaven Please Bless All That is "Pauley's...." and May No Harm Come To This Therapy In Motion, Adult After School Special, What Happens Cuando Nos Ponemos Las Pilas, Mark In Miles Stones, for This Dreamer and Music Maker Shake, Rattle n' Roll!

Amen.

"Siempre Fiel En Sangre y Lagrimas"