My mother was sassy, well-dressed, charming and mean, and boy, could she cook.
Why I attract these traits (minus the cooking) in the women I meet is a mystery, but I do over and over again.
Fashion plates totin Uzis.
I’ve had a host of therapists with different theories, like…it’s what’s familiar Susannah…it’s actually you who gravitates toward them.
You’re self-possessed to a fault which makes you very attractive to women who are not.
You’re trying to recreate the relationship you had with your mother hoping it will go better this time.
You’re too nice…women who aren’t hate that therefore want to punish you.
It’s amazing some of these shrinks are in business.
The only one that has ever rang a bell is the first. You are attracted to what you’re used to.
Just look at my list of abusive, philandering, alcoholic men and…
BINGO. As dangerous as it is staying in a situation that harms, it’s safe…like sleeping on a minefield.
Reminds me of the battered baby who, when a loving social worker tried taking it away from its mother, didn’t want to go…though this was who beat it so brutally, mom was all she knew.
You’d think awareness would finally keep the undesirables out of your life, and you have gotten better, but every once in a while one sneaks through like a groundhog.
I never handle them any better because the first thing, besides changing your number, is to not engage with their craziness, easier said than done.
My mother was so nuts I learned to avoid her whenever possible. Sometimes seeing her couldn’t be helped, like when you’d walk into your room to find her rifling through your drawers smoking one of your Luckies. Oh hi Ma, need an ashtray?
My most recent nutty lady, a former fat model, has finally taken flight leaving me with all the blame.
That’s another lovely quality, you’re responsible for the chaos they cause…she made me say those awful things…I stole her boyfriend because she left us alone after all. I’ve done everything for her that ungrateful, skinny ass bitch. It’s why I’m so fat…it was she who drove me back to that buffet table.
I wish there was a shot you could get, an inoculation like for smallpox or shingles so when one of these nuts appear you’re protected.
Or a repellent…a spray you could douse yourself with before leaving the house.
Wouldn’t that be great?
I don’t know about you, but I’d make skid marks with my sleeve rolled up.