(no subject)
Weekly post time. Well, since my last post, I suppose that some people have become psychic. After hearing that Sheldon was very ill, I had about umm, 6 seconds to contemplate this before he called. Do bare in mind that we haven't seen each other since October and haven't really spoken since December. And last Tuesday, at the office, at 11am, my sugar daddy rings starts to ring (Ring, Ring, as opposed to Dontcha by the Pussycat Dolls. Yes, it rings like that for Sheldon, Ariel and David.) So I nearly fell off my chair when I saw him pop up on my caller id. I thought Ariel was a more logical possibility. Chantal knows the ring so of course she came running as well. I sat on the floor with my eyes wide mumbling "Ohhh mother fucker he'd better leave a voicemail." And he did. And Tuesday night I called him back and man oh man is he ever different. Lets just say he's had some issues to deal with (not only his health) and is now no longer at work and seems to be quite lost. I knew something was different when the conversation lasted 20 minutes, as opposed to the usual 2 minutes. He never was much of a talker. And neither was I. A few months ago, I was satisfied with having an affair with the almighty Sheldon... Now, I want STUFF. I'm sorry, I've paid my dues, he made a mess of me the first time around and it won't happen again. I am stronger now. I am more famous now and I have a lot less to lose. So, like I've been saying all along, Schmoozy Andrea in this particular relationship has bit the dust and it seems to be working out quite well.
We arranged to meet this morning (9 am, since we're both early birds, his suggested 7am just didn't fly though.) and he claims that he just wanted to talk. My ass. But, he was in sharing mode, and although we did end up in a hotel room (bloody-fucking-finally) he is thank heavens, not the same person. First off, he insisted we cuddle (After round 1). This man, doesn't cuddle. We talked, for about half an hour, he wanted to know all what was new and surprisingly, we had a deep conversation. And then round 2 came and went and to make a long story short, we left. We had met at Decarie square, me in my car, him in the Jag. The idea was for us then to go wherever in the Jag. Oh, I love that car. Not as much as the Porsche's that have been in my life, but I love the Jag too. He's pretty (I've decided its a He.)
He quit the business due to his "not understanding of his issues" business partners (What, John, really?! NEVER. Sarcasm, anyone???" and appears to be travelling every weekend. And not with the wife. Interesting, could she be realising that the money supply will be running dry shortly???? Hmm. Like I say, I don't want to marry this man. I don't. Don't ask me why, because I don't know. I mean if push came to shove I would, but it wouldn't be my first choice. Michel, of course, would be. Followed by David, then Charles, then Gaby, then Ariel and then Sheldon. Anyway, the point is, he's lost. And he needs someone to put him back on track to being the motivated psycho that he truly is. So, watch me support him with all of his problems, watch me go to New York with him next weekend, watch me help him through the divorce whenever it may happen and watch me drive that Jag.
Because really, DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM??!!!
I never threw myself into the prize in this relationship enough. I was always playing it just so that I could spend time with him. Well guess what, no go. I want STUFF. Because guaranteed, when the money supply does run out, he'll get his ass right back to work.
By the way, I wore my black Buffalo gauchos, my white Buffalo (big boob) top and my new Nine West black and white pumps. So as I got out of my car and into his-
Him: Hot Mama.
Me: See what you picked up in the McDonalds parking lot??!!
Yes, I am hot. And my personality needs to come through. I'm being to plastic with these men. I've begun to realise that I'm not looking to be a corporate trophy wife, Chabanel is a whole other ball game. They want personality too. Guaranteed, I've got it, If I must, I will use it.
That will be all.
We arranged to meet this morning (9 am, since we're both early birds, his suggested 7am just didn't fly though.) and he claims that he just wanted to talk. My ass. But, he was in sharing mode, and although we did end up in a hotel room (bloody-fucking-finally) he is thank heavens, not the same person. First off, he insisted we cuddle (After round 1). This man, doesn't cuddle. We talked, for about half an hour, he wanted to know all what was new and surprisingly, we had a deep conversation. And then round 2 came and went and to make a long story short, we left. We had met at Decarie square, me in my car, him in the Jag. The idea was for us then to go wherever in the Jag. Oh, I love that car. Not as much as the Porsche's that have been in my life, but I love the Jag too. He's pretty (I've decided its a He.)
He quit the business due to his "not understanding of his issues" business partners (What, John, really?! NEVER. Sarcasm, anyone???" and appears to be travelling every weekend. And not with the wife. Interesting, could she be realising that the money supply will be running dry shortly???? Hmm. Like I say, I don't want to marry this man. I don't. Don't ask me why, because I don't know. I mean if push came to shove I would, but it wouldn't be my first choice. Michel, of course, would be. Followed by David, then Charles, then Gaby, then Ariel and then Sheldon. Anyway, the point is, he's lost. And he needs someone to put him back on track to being the motivated psycho that he truly is. So, watch me support him with all of his problems, watch me go to New York with him next weekend, watch me help him through the divorce whenever it may happen and watch me drive that Jag.
Because really, DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM??!!!
I never threw myself into the prize in this relationship enough. I was always playing it just so that I could spend time with him. Well guess what, no go. I want STUFF. Because guaranteed, when the money supply does run out, he'll get his ass right back to work.
By the way, I wore my black Buffalo gauchos, my white Buffalo (big boob) top and my new Nine West black and white pumps. So as I got out of my car and into his-
Him: Hot Mama.
Me: See what you picked up in the McDonalds parking lot??!!
Yes, I am hot. And my personality needs to come through. I'm being to plastic with these men. I've begun to realise that I'm not looking to be a corporate trophy wife, Chabanel is a whole other ball game. They want personality too. Guaranteed, I've got it, If I must, I will use it.
That will be all.