Frying Panhandler

June 1st, 2011
No, I'm not the stripper

No I'm not the stripogram!

Desperation from one’s parents’ mortality has alot to answer for.  Had to ditch another bitch over the phone last night – I blame it on a latent grown up orphan syndrome.  Nevertheless I finally self actualised last night:  I’m the phantom killer, me….. about time too.  Been mo than 2 months since I began a spiralling-from-the-start, long-distance romance from home this last Spring Break , whilst looking after my temp invalid mother.   Though I had my reservations it was a shimmering, buzzy, magical affair, and it seemed to make Mommy Dearest so happy.  I was attempting to face the music regarding my mother’s homestretch in this earthly sphere, as a dutiful daughter, but it scared the living beejesus out of me.  I made a desperate choice – ignored so much of what life has taught me.  I began to date someone I’ve known and arguably avoided for the last 20 years…. through Facebook reunion.  When will I ever learn?  Luckily I’ve had a coupla months and all of the Atlantic between us to figure it out.   

Safe from the pale isle, I’ve concluded that West Texas & I do not mix – is that such a painful revelation?  I can’t keep doing things to make my mother happy … that’s another …  it’s breaking me.  Ma wants to marry me off & settle me down in the frying panhandle.  I do so want to bring the dream alive – BE that blinkered prairie wife for her.  As if in answer to her prayers, life landed me with a gorgeous, great, strapping cowboy & unofficial governor of the dustbowl.  At first I was the yellow rose o Texas  – the romance was  full-on full swing. ….  However, I started to get a goony & irritated feeling about the governor,  a coupla weeks ago… until …. his wife entered the picture last weekend.  

Are all men either gay or married, is it really true.  Why can’t guys be alone ever – why?  I H8 making hard & fast rules I really do, but here’s one.  From now on, a guy has had to have been unequivocally single for at least a year – a whole year – or I move on quickly.  

I must thank his wife for hacking into his account and sending me the emails he’s been exchanging with some woman who’s got to be the supidest, most lo-maintenance weirdo upon whom I’ve ever had the pleasure of inadvertently eavesdropping.  Of course I don’t really care about their involvement.  I’d already tried – once again in my life – to establish from the beginning that long distance might occasionally give leeway to site specific dalliances – “love the one you’re with”.  But no, that wouldn’t do – not for the governor.  Sister Twister got sucked in & we just had to profess our endless, exclusive love for one another….. As it turns out we both did what I suggested anyway.  Last night, when trying to talk us toward that revelation, I got some hard & fast “don’t ask, don’t tell” machinations – delivered with abs thorough arrogance.  

I seem to have this block, I just do not want to believe that anyone WANTS to live by double standards.  Just like Anne Frank I believe all people are good….. & can’t grasp the idea that anyone actually benefits from controlling anything, so I’m flummoxed at why anyone ever tries?  And why they try so exhaustively?  

The scary part was his wife tracking me down at work – due to his incompetence – and then him getting all Clinton-esque with me.  Ooooh his big Clinton appointment really resonates.  I can just forget all about support or protection, not to mention being soothed .  Either I swear blind allegiance to his front or hit the hayride:  How dare I have questions, he’s said everything he needs to say to me about love, life, the lord, the universe, his dingleberries & blah blah blah.  Somehow I begin to see Wifey’s point.  

Or am I missing something in boy world?  Did the Gov give me the slip, because he forgot about the thrill of playing the field?    

My latest, most unavoidable life laws –

1.  Bouts of intimacy require commensurate measures of solititude – which must be seen to be enjoyed  

2.  West Texas is a hellpit

3.  Long distance maintenance is a matter of ettiquette, rather than denial shaped devotion

4.  There are more phantoms than there are people on this earth.

 

I'd

Rather fight than blight

 


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