"LOVE" (as told by Osho, the latest author)

Well, dear bloggettes- it seems there has been another explosion in Loveland. Rawboy and I have been debating the topic of LOVE for several days now, and Rawboy's the winner. Because if he wasn't, well then, Rawboy would be wrong. And he's never wrong...

Early in our friendship/relationship/courtship/thingy, Rawboy expressed to me that he wanted a serious relationship with TWO women, me being one of them, and wanted to know how I felt about it. If any of you know anything about me at all, then you can assume my response: You're a fucking idiot and get out of my life. But after reading book after book about the "true" meaning of life and all of it's secrets, Rawboy has come to the conclusion that multiple partners who share each other on a regular basis is a natural, common occurence in this world. I would expect this kind of reasoning from an inexperienced, horny, young man. Or from an older man who mistakes wisdom for lack of respect towards women.

Hmmmmm... lack of respect...I see a pattern here.

After the "absolutely not- you're a fucking idiot" rebuttle to this obsurd request, Rawboy temporarily gave up on the notion and things went back to normal- until the explosion the other day. After several days of intimacy, Rawboy expresses his love for me like so: "I love you like a sister." Yes bloggers, sit back, and take it all in. I know I didn't. I didn't need the time.

Is it just me?? Am I being unfair?? Should his words have not been a direct stab in the heart?? Well, it was- a stab in the heart, that is. A deep, twisting stab. So the debate begins- What is love? Is there one, true definition? Aren't there many degrees of love, and if so, what are they? Someone tell us, please! This definition of "love" has torn us apart and we may not get passed it. Not without one of us surrendering, anyway.

Without typing a novel on the intricasies of love and all it entails, I will tell you this- I have experienced many relationships in my day. Enough to know when love exists- when a deep, meaningful love exists, and the difference between those kinds of love and "a love you have for your sister." Maybe Rawboy feels less guilty screwing three women at one time when the love he feels does not exceed the love he has for his sister. Or maybe he just wants to screw his sister. Who knows.

But the love I have for Rawboy is something very intimate, much more involved than a brotherly love. And I'm not mad because I love him "more." I'm mad because he's an idiot. I'm mad because he doesn't have a clue. I'm mad because he says he knows what love is and how it should be expressed, when he's never felt it before. He's never been hurt by it before. His heart has never been ripped out of his tiny chest, for love, before. And I'm mad because his new, favorite book is one in which Osho, the author, describes wives and children as "restricting chains", and that "love" should be given out like orange chicken samples at a food court, to as many people(women) as possible during one's(man's) life.

I, on the other hand, like the majority of the population- and call me old fashioned-prefer the intimacy of one partner, the journey of life and love, with that partner, my rock, my inspiration, my peace, my other half. Maybe I was hoping that I'd be the one to shed some light on Rawboy's immature perceptions. But I know now that it's not my job. The world will teach him that. And I will miss him all the same, partly because he cooks for me, and partly because I invested some time in the sheltered boy that is my roommate.

Godspeed, Rawboy.
As for me- with the future in my eyes and my head held high, "Frankly, my dear- I don't give a damn."


Until next time,

Who's Having Sex in this City?

Two weeks after it's release, my friends and I finally made it to see the much talked about movie, "Sex in the City." I must admit it was definitely entertaining. The men even had some good laughs, after being reluctantly dragged to the theater with the girls. And thank JESUS for Samantha, the promiscuous character in the film, for exposing the true side of the female lust for the shlong. If it wasn't for her (very important) role, then none of us would have had the pleasure of watching her seductive neighbor, Dante, take a very revealing, mouth watering shower. I know for a fact all the women in the theater were collectively thinking one thing: DAMN. As for the tear jerking, touching moments, there were a few that almost had me pulling out the tissue. If you don't want to know what happens, then DON'T read on!

LAST CHANCE....

1. When Carrie got the call from Big that he wasn't coming. She was in her gown, minutes from the altar, surrounded by friends. Then Big says over the phone that he just couldn't do it. She drops the phone, holding her chest, gasping for breath in sheer devastation. Her performance as a stood-up bride had us all in the moment, denying the lumps in our throats.

2. When Big tries to catch her leaving the church after changing his mind. Carrie beats him with the bouquet, all the while screaming, and heads back to the limo, Big chasing after. Charlotte aggressively grabs her heart-broken friend and with a hand-halt-pointed-finger motion, screams "NO" towards Big with startling conviction and watery eyes. The moment of truth, the scene in which all women around the world reconnect and identify with the necessity of girlfriends.

We serve as protectors of our own, always there at the right moments. It was a powerful scene, and another award-winning performance in the film, I must say. We laugh, we cry, we joke, we depart. But when it must be done, when we must be there, we know it. And the true ones always follow through. I always said there was something more devastating about the death of a friend, as opposed to the death of a relative. Your friends take a part of you with them that no one else knows exists, not even your mother or father, sister or brother. All the secrets you've ever had go right along with them, all the way back to your first kiss. The part of you that a friend knows is irreplaceable. When my good friend died, a part of me did as well. After 11 years, I never fully recovered. I still visit the grave with pink roses.

Well, enough boo-hooing about Sex in the City. But I do recommend seeing it, with a few friends and some Kleenex. If you REALLY want your money's worth, go on your period. (This does not apply to straight men.)


Stay tuned for my next column in "Dear Creemy."

Yours,

Brigette

My neighbor, Brigette, seems to be the only blogger out there who cares to comment on my posts. SO, hats off to you, Brigette, and the rest of you can go lick an icy- cold pole.

Denial...river in...what???

Well, I suppose I'll have many a post on the subject of DENIAL, but this is my first. I'm in denial about how lonely I am. SOOOO many times I wanted to kick Rawboy into the stratosphere and out of my house, but the little guy just won't budge. He likes it here, for reasons that MUST have to do with the yard and off street parking..... God knows no one else out there could stand the nightly visits from my mother and the annoyances of my child. The fact that Rawboy just doesn't want to leave turns me on even more, or shall I say, makes me like him a little more. He is a strange one for sure, and now that he's gone on his fantastic voyage to the Bahamas, I have come to terms with some repressed feelings and thoughts that I've kept hidden from him and myself. Maybe I don't want to live alone after all. And-

I don't want him to see me fail.

Fail at losing weight, fail at my job, fail at paying my fucking mortgage, fail as a mother, fail as a dog owner, WHATEVER. And why do I care?? I'm not sure. I certainly don't give two shits what other people think about me, or at least I don't act like it. Rawboy lives in my private space, my sanctuary, within my walls and my roof where I go without make-up, cry for no reason, dress like a bum, feel sad and depressed, hopeless and scared. He sees it all. I've had serious relationships where I've never been so exposed. Why am I so terrified to let my guard down? Especially in front of a guy who shops at THREE different stores for one fucking recipe?? A guy who tells me to juice the KALE before it goes bad??

So. The denial. I'm lonely without him. I miss him. The failing thing. Yeah.

His trip was only one week, but it was hard to see him go. As I hugged him goodbye at the gate, I pressed my nose against his neck to remind me of his smell, as if we were to never see each other again. I mean, you never know. I swear if he saw a cucumber floating in the sea he would jump overboard to try and save it. Then he wouldn't want to hurt the sharks that were tearing into his size 28 waist.

I'm glad he's on this trip. He deserves it. He needs it. Another great experience to add to the few he's had in his short life. Jealousy aside, I hope he had a great one night stand. I know I would, on a cruise, out in the middle of nowhere...

Well, I feel like I can go now. Go to sleep and wake up for an 8 o'clock yard sale and some breakfast with my dad, who's in town for the weekend. It helps the time to go by faster in anticipation for Rawboy's return. The dog needs to be walked.

Your Creemster,

BYE-BYE BAR!

Well, my no-comment-leaving-blogsters, after 14 years in the blood-sucking restaurant business, I have finally found a new job. As of June 16, I will be Activities Director of an assisted living center, (for the elderly and/or somewhat deranged, of course.) I know, I know.... I'M PERFECT FOR THE JOB!! And excited. I can't wait to break out the ol' Olivia Newton John tape and start sweatin' to the oldies. The old folks and I will not only Jazzercize our days away, but we'll do other things like make Valentine's cards with Polydent and play drinking games with Ensure. A friend of mine added one to the list with "wheelchair limbo." Boy, are we gonna have some fun! And I'll never step foot inside another restaurant again. (Unless I'm a patron.)


My roommate leaves for a week tomorrow. A family reunion. On a boat. It'll be just like Amistad, only they'll be lounging in beach chairs, sipping on margueritas. I will miss him, I must admit. I must also admit that I'll starve, start talking to myself again, and masturbate more. It'll be one lonely week, being I can restrain myself from having orgies and all night drink fests. I wonder if that guy returned that midget porn dvd back to Fan Video yet.


Well, I must rise early to see my daughter off to school, go to Kroger, and take Rawboy to the airport. He needs to stock up on organic snacks for the trip. God bless him.

Love to you all, for now-