The Hardest Part Of This Will Be Saying No

The thing that sucks about the fact that my relationship with Buzzard will never be wholly restored is that I can't just call him up at 9:30 in the morning and ask him to bring me a pack of smokes.  Or call him up and tell him that I haven't eaten in two days so that he'll take me to get some food.

He's got ulterior motives, and I knew this hadn't changed the second I looked at my phone the other night and saw that he was texting me.

Because, you see, I made the mistake of texting him on the way home from Baltimore the other night while I was still a shit-faced trainwreck.  (Thank God Chrissy was driving.)

I hate you because I'm hearing songs that make me think about you and I'm drunk as fuck [sic].

Oops.  His first response, that came at 4:00 Sunday morning, was "You want my cock [sic]."  Ugh.  NO.  That's not what I meant.  But when I discovered on Saturday that I had made the awful mistake of drunk texting him, I knew that was how he was going to take it.  I figured it best to just let it be.  But he wasn't having that.  So we spent all day Sunday afternoon going back and forth:

Him:  You texted me the other night do you remember?
Me:  Yea I found it the next day.
Him:  What's up you ok
Me:  I'm fine it was just a moment of weakness and lapse of judgement on my behalf.
(I was 4 Jagerbombs and 4 Bud Lights in at that point, remember.)
Him:  Laps [sic] of judgement lol so professional.
Him:  What are you doing
Me:  Laying in bed.
Him:  I'm lying on the couch playing with my cock
Him:  R u asleep
Me:  No sorry I'm on the other line with Tyler
(I was really talking to my friend, and I named him specifically because I can push Buzzard's buttons just by casually mentioning other males that I interact with, and Buzzard doesn't need to know that my friendship with Tyler is purely platonic.)
Him:  Who's Tyler
(Exactly.)
Me:  One of my friends
Him:  U should cum suck my cock
Me:  Really
Me:  I want to hot tub
Him:  It's not clean right now
Me:  :(
Him:  Sorry my cock could use you
Me:  Where's [your girlfriend]?
Him:  Home
Me:  Why do you want me to suck your cock
Him:  Cause you suck it so good
Me:  Mhm
Him:  I'm watching porn and rock hard
Me:  What else is new
Him:  Lol
Him:  Do u still like eating cum?
(Seriously?  I can't believe you're bringing this kind of shit up, you asshole.  But what do I do?  I play along, like an asshole.)
Me:  You could say that
Him:  Well if you hurry you can eat mine
(Ew.)
Me:  I just rolled out of bed

It goes back and forth like this for a while, as I keep delaying it, hoping he'll just finish jerking off and stop asking me to come over.  Because seriously, I was not going to get out of my pajamas just to go over there and suck his dick.  I managed to throw it in his face, that I thought he might actually want to hang out as friends since we haven't seen each other in almost five months, and I received a real-time picture of his dick in response.

I attempted to clear some shit up though -

Me:  I'd rather just hang out than suck your cock.
Him:  Thats cool too, has to be between us
(??)
Him:  Be a good little slut and drink me and go home
Me:  (after seething for a good ten minutes) Good to know you still think so highly of me
Him:  Of course I do, goes both ways right
(Yeah except if I actually did want to use you for sex, you wouldn't be able to get your dick hard because your emotion towards me is still frighteningly strong.)
Him:  I don't think I can wait much longer
Me:  I'm not sucking dick unless I get something in return and I still smell like strippers
(I did, I was at a strip club the night before getting wasted and throwing dollar bills at questionable dancers.  Good times.)
Him:  Lol.  What do you want
Me:  I dunno
Him:  How about one day this week I do some really nasty shit to you, want to?
Me:  (after more hesitation and deliberation) Sure what the hell.

He's breaking me down and he doesn't even know it.  Or, he does and he doesn't give a shit.  I don't know what the fuck I want, a friendship, a fuck-ship, or nothing at all.  I spent five months realizing I could breathe again because he was no longer a part of my life.  But I am the type of girl who will disregard everything I've told myself and plunge headfirst into a sea of regret.

So That My Kids Have A Place To Call MomMom's

Ma just ran next door to fax her 2009 tax return over to the mortgage company.  This is one of the million other things she's had to do since filing for a loan remodification.  For the second time.

Last October she applied for help through one of Obama's programs designed to help people refinance their mortgages so they can afford to stay in their homes.  Thousands of people got screwed over by shitty mortgage companies by unknowingly signing over their lives to loans that inevitably end in inammitorization.  (The interest keeps going up, the principle keeps going down, and you end up owing more over time than the house is even worth.)  I'm not going to get into the long, drawn out story of how my mother got involved in one of these scams, let's just say my father makes lousy business decisions and Ma is now suffering because she was married to him for 25 years.  I will also not go into detail about how much shit she has had to do when it comes to applying for any kind of help to get this fucked up mortgage back in check.  Discovering the meaning of life or climbing Mount Everest would be easier.  Trust me.

The first time she applied for refinancing, she was rejected.  Here is why:

MY MOTHER HAS PERFECT CREDIT.  ALL OF HER BILLS, INCLUDING THE ASTRONOMICAL MORTGAGE PAYMENT, ARE CURRENT.  WE HAVE LEARNED THAT ONE MUST DEFAULT AND EITHER ENTER A SHORT-SALE OF THEIR HOME OR HAVE THE BANK FORECLOSE ON IT BEFORE THEY WILL EVEN BE CONSIDERED FOR A LOAN MODIFICATION. 

The government will not help those who obey the laws, those who pay their bills on time, or those who have worked hard their entire lives to create and keep a home for their family.  Because, you know, my mother isn't some crackhead that keeps popping out babies, she's not unemployed, she's not looking for hand outs.  But because her and my father are now divorced and she wants to sever any financial ties completely with him, she can't afford the mortgage payments on her own.  I do what I can to help, giving her money for the electric or water bills, or writing her a check if something breaks, (read:  if I break something.)  Half of the mortgage payment would be an entire paycheck for me, and I don't ask for help with any of my own bills.

So, in other words, you have to be a real fuck-up before someone will help you. My mother would like to avoid fucking up her credit and losing her house. But the government won't help you until you have become totally destitute, and even then, your chances of any kind of break? Are slim to none.

We might be able to make it if I just give in and start robbing banks or selling drugs and/or my body.  Because honestly?  It's getting to the point where I would seriously consider doing any of those things just to give my mama some relief.  And maybe if I do end up a junkie whore with ten kids, one of us could get some fucking help.

Oh God, Not Again!

11:30 last night I was laying in bed, attemtpting to fall asleep.  I hear my phone beep.  Actually, it goes "whoa whoa whoa whoa...", a clip from Above the Clouds by Slightly Stoopid, and it's fucking awesome.  I rolled over, figuring my Drugstore Cowboy was hitting me up for a booty call.

IT WAS BUZZARD.

The infamous douchebag that I dated right after I split up with my ex and who fucked my head UP.  The "friend" that I haven't spoken to since the fourth of July, for reasons I am still unenlightened about.

Him:  "What are you up to, ho?"
Me:  "Um, work.  Life.  Partying.  And you?"
Him:  "The same.  I have a raging hard-on and I'm stroking it right now lol."
Me:  "Some things never change.  Where's [your girlfriend]?
Him:  "Lol I know."
Him:  "She's at home."
Him:  "I heard you had a train run on you on Halloween."
Me:  "What are you talking about?  There was no train."
Him:  "On you, dork."
Me:  "I know what you meant.  Just because I was with guys all night doesn't mean I fucked them all."
Me:  "Just one."
Him:  "Oh ok."
Him:  "So when are you gonna suck my cock like a good little whore?"
Me:  "Yeah I don't know about that."

It went on a little more; he told me he wanted to see how work was going and how I was doing.  Part of me is really fucking pissed that he had the nerve to contact me, and the other part of me is indifferent to it.  I don't want to fall back into the same cycle with him.  I don't want to start sleeping with him again.  He knows how to push all the right buttons.  But I've learned how he works over the years and have had time to sharpen my skills.  If I do decide to give in, it's not going to be easy for him.  I do not have the time nor the energy for his bullshit antics.  I refuse to be sucked into his sick little world of sex and mindfucking again.

So until I figure out if he really was just checking up on me or has ulterior motives, I will be struggling with my decision on how to react.

Fuck.