Tag Archives: AG

Epic Battle #1-One For Our Record Books

7 Jun

Two or three days after Loverboy commenced the Silent Treatment-I lost count while I was insanely flashing back-I got a call from L.  It was during the day, so I knew he was at work.  Hmm…not much conversation can happen while one is working…

L: Esme, hey.

E: Hey?

L: What are you up to?

E: Nothing?

L: How have you been?

How have I been??  Are you fucking kidding me??

I unleashed.  I told him how much he has hurt me the last few days.  Explained the dark place he sent me to.  How incredibly barbaric it was of him to Silent Treatment me when he knows my past.  In turn, he told me how much he was looking forward to that night with me.  How for six months he has been talking about me non-stop to his family, and he was so excited to show them this ‘amazing woman who wanted to date’ him.

Loverboy gave me pause.  Was this argument all about that?  The fact that he just really wanted to introduce me to his family, to ‘show me off’, so to speak?  Not that that revelation excused his behavior toward me the following days, but I am friends with enough dudes to know that the introduction of someone you are in love with is a huge fucking deal.

L got choked up, and asked if I could just come over that night to talk.  I agreed, as this conversation would be way more productive in person.

After the Silent Treatment started, I had walked around my house gathering up all of his shit, including everything he had ever given me.  Sooo…it is safe to say I was fucking pissed.  I grabbed the pile off of my kitchen table, and took it with me.  Why?  I’m not sure.  To let him know I was pissed?

When I walked in the door, I plopped the pile on his kitchen table.  L just looked at me.

E: This is all your shit that was at my house, and I am tired of looking at it.

Loverboy was rendered speechless.  After a minute or two, he crossed the kitchen and took me into his arms.  After a few seconds, I hugged him back.  And we stood in silence for several long moments and just hugged.  We needed that, it calmed us down.

We were able to have a very calm, rational discussion following that hug.  He explained that he was so upset at the situation, he could feel himself taking it out on me, which he didn’t want to do.  So in his weird male-hormoned brain, not talking to me made more sense.  I explained why he can’t give me the Silent Treatment.  I gave him an alternative-please just tell me you are angry at me or at a situation, and you need to calm down before we can discuss it rationally.  He agreed to be more forthcoming about his feelings, and I accepted what he said at face value.  Can I promise to not revert when Silent Treatment is given again?  Nope.  But I did promise that if he ever gave me the Silent Treatment again, he would never have to bother calling me.  EVER again.

For a few days we had an uneasy alliance.  You know those first few days after a major blowout and everyone is walking on egg shells?  We did that.  And one day, it was just all better.

The scare seemed to change Loverboy.  He is a lot more open with his feelings, often telling me how lucky he is, how great I am, how he loves me, etc.  He is more touchy-feely in front of family (before he would barely hold my hand).  The changes have definitely been positive, and make me feel much more appreciated.

We will see how it goes.

On the This shit only happens to me front…

I met Loverboy’s new neighbors the other day.  Neighbor caught sight of my firefighter plates on my vehicle, and inquired to where I work.  I told him, and he asked me if I knew Ambulance Guy.

Are you fucking kidding me??  Ambulance Guys brother moved in next door to my boyfriend?!?

I can just see this going down…

Ex-fuck buddy?  Meet boyfriend.  Boyfriend, meet the guy I’d probably be fucking if I hadn’t met you.


Love, Esme


Esme is back.

14 Oct

Do you ever just get so overwhelmed you shut down?  Because I do.  I am there with so many things.  Not with the custody battle (that shit is ON).  Not with the shoulder (because that will work itself out.  I’m not even worried about it).  But with some friends.  And definitely with guys.  Let me explain.

I have really struggled with the whole Sunday debacle.  And I am mad at myself for struggling.  It’s hard for me to throw away an 8 year friendship.  On one side, friendships do take work.  But on the other, and much stronger, side?  She NEVER should have done what she did.  Never should have involved friends.  Never should have stolen my meds.  Never should have involved my roommate.  Never should have done so many other things I never wrote about.  That friendship took so much of my energy, and time, that I didn’t realize how drained I was until I didn’t have to do it anymore.  I’m not going back there…I refuse…but I’m finding it kind of hard to let go fully.  All in time.

Men.  Men are starting to frustrate the crap out of me.  No, I take that back.  They have always frustrated the crap out of me.  However I am at the point where I just want to take a break.  Not a break from sex…pssssshhhhhh…I don’t break from sex.  But I’m done trying to date.  I had WAY MORE FUN when I was out for my own pleasure.  Let’s just recap for a second, shall we?

Why I hate trying to date:

  1. Feelings.  I can’t stand feelings.  Fuck.  Them.  They led me to crying over M.  I ran my mascara and eye-liner for that douchero.  I have to say…that’s just not an attractive look for me.
  2. Guys like Fighter, and guys like dude with 8 kids.  I want to vomit every time I think about how I had to shell over money for 3 out of 4 dates.  Or how guys can just fail to mention they run a home straight out of a Brother’s Grimm fairy tale.  That shit is just not OK.
  3. Too much fucking energy.  I live life pretty unapologetically.  And I am realizing guys just don’t dig that.  I still didn’t apologize for anything, but I found myself pulling in the reins some.  And then I would get pissed off.  A dude should like me for me.  
  4. The uncertainty.  I’m never uncertain.  But damn if some of the behavior I witnessed had me second guessing myself.  Again, just not OK.
  5. Having to dumb myself down to talk on their level.  I say that, and I realize how it sounds.  I never acted stupid.  I didn’t start twirling my hair, popping my gum, or saying uummmm….like totally.  But I did find I had to use small words and talk like a kindergarten teacher when I explained the fundamentals of Relationship 101.  No, I’m not going to miss my kid’s soccer game to go watch you play golf.  No, I’m not going to let you do something sexually repulsive to me that I’m not comfortable with.  Yes, I am a big girl and can make my own decisions, like what I want to order for dinner.  No, I am not going to blow you in your car just because you bought me dinner.  Why yes, I am a very strong and opinionated woman, because I was taught to be vocal and say what I want.  (All you have to do is imagine me bracing my hands on my knees while I get on their level talking in a kindergarten teacher voice.  I really did this.)  Too much energy!!  Too much idiocy!!  Where do guys come from these days??
Now, let’s explore why I am going back to being my lovable Esme self:
  1. I can do what I want when I want with whom I want.  ‘Nuff said.
  2. I don’t have to apologize for anything.  Again, ’nuff said.
  3. I can call who I want, whenever I want.  And amazingly enough, the response is better when I am dating someone.  Example #1:  Hey boyfriend, you should come over.  Can’t babe, sorry, busy.  Example #2:  You.  Me.  Sex.  Now.  I will be right over.
  4. I’m a lot more satisfied.  And I’m not just talking sex, even though that’s the case as well.  I’m more satisfied because all I have to worry about is me, and my little family.  There is no one else to take into account.  I make a decision, and it doesn’t get questioned.  It doesn’t get argued.  It doesn’t get changed.  I wake up in the morning to the world I left the night before.  And I truly love that.
  5. I’m in control of my own destiny.  Kind of ties into #4.  I have no one to blame, but myself, as I made my own decisions.  Likewise, I can take full credit when things go well, because it was all me.  I am 100% in charge of my life, and I don’t have to run things by anyone.
  6. I am free to change my mind whenever I want, how often I want.  I never get bored.
  7. I just truly enjoy my life more when all I need to do is live for me.  What does that tell me?  That I have yet to find a great guy who is worthy of me.  It also tells me that I am probably not ready for a committed relationship.  I’m so glad I can be honest with myself about this.
I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to figure things out with Sunday.  Figure things out with M (No, we aren’t seeing each other…but had a few convos that messed me up some…done with all of that, too).  Figure out where I was going wrong.
It all came down to the fact that I started to forget who I was.
I realized that with M, I tried to be the person he wanted me to be.  He didn’t love me, he loved what he thought I could be.
I realized with Sunday, I bent over backwards because I was afraid of losing the relationship I thought we had.
I realized that I was sacrificing parts of me I love because I didn’t feel like having to explain myself or my actions.
And it won’t happen any more.
What snapped me out of it?  A long convo with Jake.  Oh…how I heart him.
It seems the fates agree with my decision to bring back my sassy self.  Guess who I heard from today?  Ambulance Guy.  Yes…Mr. AG himself.  We have been out of contact for a couple of months.  Not on purpose, but life just took over.  He texted me today, and asked how I was doing.  We had some superficial conversation, which is how I like it if I plan on having a sexual relationship with someone.  Then he got right to it.
AG: I want to see you.
E: Yeah.
AG: I could go for a drink and sex.
E: And I could go for your hands on my body, your mouth replacing them.
AG: Shit…
E: I want to be unable to walk.  I want to feel you for three days.
AG: Sunday?  Please say Sunday…
He better come over on Sunday.
Medic has also been texting me lately.  I really enjoy being with Medic.  It’s easy, there are no feelings involved (at least on my end), and it takes so little thought its almost embarrassing.  But I’m wondering if it has run it’s course.  The last two times we planned on getting together, one of us has backed out.  I can sit here, think about our time together, and I get hot and bothered.  Holy shit we have some great sex.  But when it comes time for him to come over, I’m just not feeling it.  I will give it a few days before I make a decision on it.  I have a few things on my plate, so it could be just stress.
So there you have it.  Enough with the mushy and sad posts.  Enough with the stupid L-Word.  Enough second guessing and worrying and wondering and crying and everything else.
I’m back.
My only worry is where to stay for Vixens in Vegas 2012.
Love, Esme

The Benefit Of Younger Men

15 Jun

I have spent a lot of my brain power thinking about this.  Why?  I have no fucking clue.  I truly don’t.  And it all started pretty innocently.

My gal Sunday pointed out to me a recently that I really seem to be attracted to younger men.  I told her that was erroneous (great movie) and asked her to point out the proof.

Sunday:  Really?  I really have to freaking do this?  Oh-kay…AG, 24-year old Firefighter, EX-BF, 29 year-old Firefighter, Mr. Hottie, Fighter, Jake, New Guy, Perfect, the last one-night stand you had.  Almost every guy you flirt with.  Need I say more?  Heeeeellllllllloooooooo…Medic??

Shit.  She was right.  I do have a thing for younger guys.  The few I dated that were older, didn’t look as old as they were.  Why, OH WHY, do I tend to go after the younger men?

Theory on this one, bear with me.

Guys in their mid-thirties (eek…am I almost that old?) are just so…drama filled.  They have been married.  They have been divorced.  They have kids.  They have baby-mama drama.  They probably did something wrong so their wives had to leave them.  They don’t take care of themselves very well.  They usually don’t exercise.  They don’t dress as nice.  They don’t care much about their looks.  They seem to have forgotten how to treat a lady.  Do I need to go on?  And before some guys e-mail or comment, this has just been my experience.  And it’s my blog.  Don’t like it??  Start your own.

I take care of myself.  I exercise (mostly).  I look in the mirror before I leave the house.  I take a care when I pick out my clothes (unless it’s Girls Night).  I work very hard to keep drama out of my life, or at least away from my dates.  I don’t bring my kids into relationships.  I don’t tell stories of my divorce, or sing about the heartache of what I have been through.  That takes too much damn ENERGY.

Younger men are the opposite of men my age.  Almost exactly.  They also realize how lucky they are to date someone like me, and go out of their way to prove it.  Over and over again.  (And let’s not forget the added benefit of stamina, and they fact they are more willing to take the time in bed.  Oooh yes.)  I also find that these guys are more willing to go out and do things, not just sit at home and watch TV.

In short, they act more like me.  More of what I am looking for.  Active.  Fun-loving.  Go with the flow.

I think like-minded individuals are drawn to each other.  Should age really be an issue?

Love, Esme

Whoa…too young!

7 Jun

Heeelllllloooooo Hot Medic

So Medic and I went out for drinks the other night.  I had a *particularly* horrible fucking day, and he was willing to listen to me bitch about it.  So off we went.

A while into the night, I finally flat-out asked how old he was.  He is ten years younger than me!!  As in one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-TEN years younger.  No way in FUCK’S sake is that happening.  Five?  OK.  TEN??  I think that may be illegal.  But what I have come to realize is I really enjoy spending time with him.  So that will continue.  Just nothing else.

I think I may have been asked out on a date by someone when I was in the midst of BEST DAY EVER!  I have to go back and figure that out for sure.

AG dropped the ball again.  I’m done making plans with that one.  He is going to have to show up naked at my door next time for me to believe he wants this.

Nothing else to write about.  I have been working my ass off…literally…the last couple of weeks.  Not much play time going on right now.  Sooo need to change that…

Love, Esme

How Does One Stop Drunk Texting?

1 Jun

I really really really need to know.  Like as soon as possible.

Quick tangent:  Medic continues to text me (he always starts it) just to say Hi Esme.  How is your day?  Hmmm…I think he may have an interest in me, as I do him, but neither of us knows how to proceed.  Something may happen, something probably won’t.  Whatevs.  I will keep you updated on Medic.

Back to the reason for this post…DRUNK TEXTING.  Does anyone else do it?  Please tell me someone else out there does it!!  I have been guilty of this ever since I started dating again.  Where did this phenomenon start?  Why did I start doing it?  How do I stop it?

The first time I remember texting while drunk (now referred to as TWD) was just over two years ago.  AG and I were our torrid, steamy affair.  I was out with a friend, and I had too much to drink.  She wasn’t paying enough attention to my drunk ass (Psssshhhhh…a real girlfriend would have been all up in my grill when my phone came out…just sayin’)  I commenced TWD to AG.  I told him how much I loved running my hands all over his body, etc etc etc.  I was lucky we were…uhmmm…fucking…because he took it all in stride.  OK, girlfriend could have a pass.  I didn’t do anything stupid.  But we did make a pact after that day-whenever we went out drinking together we would trade phones.  Decent plan, right??  I can’t text if I don’t have my phone!  And she has the same problem I do, so it was a win-win.  Well, it was until I had her phone once when she got a racy text…and I responded for her for four hours…and never told her…

So back to me.  I ended up TWD to Mr. Hottie one night a year and a half ago.  Also not bad, because we were…you know.

I’ve TWD to a firefighter I worked with.  He wanted to bang, I said no.  But when I was drunk, texting didn’t seem like a bad idea.  Whoops.

I could go on and on, but let’s fast forward to present day.  I have made a lot of TWD errors, party fouls, whatever you want to call them.  Bad Esme, bad!  But I just can’t STOP.  And leaving the phone home isn’t an option when you have to stay connected.

*This may or may not look like me after a night of drinking*

Most recently, I TWD to Mr. Hottie…but this time we aren’t doing the nasty.  And it was highly inappropriate on my end.  Of course, he loved it.  A little excerpt:

E: You miss me, don’t you?
Mr. H: Never said I didn’t.
E: You have a soft spot for me in that heart of yours.
Mr. H: Never denied it.
E: You…want me.
Mr. H: Are you drunk?
E: NO!  Maybe.  Does 4 margaritas count as drunk?
Mr. H: Lol.  Yes babe, it does.  For you it does.  Do you want me?
E: Yes…stupid me.
Mr. H: You gonna come to me? You have to come to me…
E: Fuck me (I meant this as a ‘oh shit’ comment)! No, don’t! Well maybe…tell me what you would do to me…

You can imagine how it spiraled from there.  Reading it the next day sober made me blush profusely, and I’m not easy to embarrass.  I sent him an apology text the next day, and he responded with a smiley face.  God dammit.

So do you see why I need a cure for TWD??  I can’t keep doing this.  THANK GOD I texted Mr. Hottie instead of some of the others in my phone.  At least he is used to it.  And if I had to drunk text anyone, I’m glad it was him.  But past history has shown me to TWD other guys (not just AG, either…).  Pills?  Change in diet?  What is going to make it stop?  And don’t say stop drinking…because that is just not an option…

Much love, Esme

I’m Feeling Particularly Lame Right About Now

28 May

OK, OK-I understand that I have been missing for quite a while.  I am working two jobs…and I am sitting at a phenomenally boring one, so I have decided to update you all.  You are welcome.

AG is still in the picture, but we still have yet to meet.  How is this possible, you ask?  Well, I’d kind of like to know the answer to that myself.  We have had plans on two different days, and on those two days he has cancelled.  What the fuck.  I’ve known he is flaky.  And I fucking HATE flaky.  But besides being great in bed, he is also a friend.  And I have been really wanting to talk to him.

E: When you have some time, could you hit me up?  I’d really like to talk to you!  And no worries-this is not a ploy to get into your pants 😉

AG: What if I want it to be a ploy to get into my pants?

E: Then, my dear AG, you have to call when you say you are going to.

AG: Sorry, I got stuck at work.

E: If we were actually dating, you would owe me a diamond tennis bracelet.

He has been properly chastised.  I hope.  Because the thought of being together has me ready to slide off my chair.  What followed after the above exchange could only be described as XXX promises.  The sexual tension is palpable.  My body turns to jelly when I think about it.  I’m currently laying in a puddle, reaching one arm up to the desk to write this.  True story.  This shit better happen soon.  Or I will not be a happy camper.

I have been hearing from Mr. Hottie as well.  I have such mixed emotions when it comes to him, and that is what is keeping me away.  I can finally admit to myself that I fell for this guy.  I walked away from him because I knew I would never be any kind of priority in his life.  I’m not talking about the ‘on a pedestal’ priority-because that is the last thing I want or need-but I knew I would never be the only one.  I knew his friends would come before me, no matter what.  I knew he would give into sexual desires with other women, without a backwards glance to me.  I knew that work was always going to come first.  I knew I would have to fight for his attention.  I knew, that when push comes to shove, I would be the very last thing he thought about when the chips fall.  And that is why I never agreed to date him.

Our relationship, or what we made into a relationship, worked out very well for us.  There was zero committment on either of our parts.  We enjoyed each others company.  However, because we avoided ‘titles’ or ‘names’, we lasted a very long time.  It was perfect for him because he didn’t feel trapped, and perfect for me because I was still in my fuck men-I’m usin’ and abusin’ phase.

So what would happen now?  I have a few guesses.  And I don’t like the way any of them end.

Mr. Hottie is in a relationship he despises.  And he won’t get out of it.  Why?  Because this woman is so fucking clueless-and stupid-that he can carry on with his many (and I mean MANY) affairs.  He can do what he wants and get away with it.  He lives a life completely separate from hers, but he gets to go home to the doting faithful woman.  GAG.  But that is what his vision of a perfect family is.  And for whatever reason he doesn’t want to be alone.

My thought on Mr. Hottie?  He has never found anything with substance.  He has never found a woman worth fighting for, or one who has fought for him.  He has always been able to use women for what he wants, and toss them to the side.  He is OK doing this because women use him for his money, looks, and toys.  Because he has never met a real one.  I think I honestly gave him that first insight into what a strong, confident woman is.  I think it is part of the reason we went as long as we did (I didn’t give a shit about his toys or money-but I won’t deny that I loved his body).  I think that was the reason he came to me late one night and professed his love.  Do I think he loves me?  No.  Do I think he cares for me?  Yes.  And that is evidenced by the fact he continues to call.

My gal Sunday thinks I should go ahead and see him.  Go for it!  It’s not your problem if he is in a relationship.  He isn’t married.  You guys care for each other.  What is the worst that can happen?

The worst thing that can happen is me falling in love with him, and getting my heart ripped out of my chest.  Then I will have to cry over him while drinking a bottle of Riesling with Sunday, lamenting over the fact that I was a FUCKING RETARD to think we could make it work in any way shape or form.  And that just is not a good look for me.

Love, Esme

I’m Here!

21 May

I am not going to apologize for my absence, as that just is not me. But I WILL tell you that I made it to Old State, and I am working on moving in. And as my life is hardly ever boring, men are already knocking at my door.

Ambulance Guy already got a hold of me, telling me he is going to check his schedule and get back to me. That makes me all warm and tingly.

Mr. Hottie haas also been in contact, and this one I am torn on. I will have to write more on him soon…

Until then, try not to get raptured. We all know the bad girls have the most fun 😉

Love, Esme