He's a tool and so is he...

I'm on my way out of Beaufort-by-the-sea and heading down Hwy 24 to Swansboro for the day for some more boating with a different set of friends from yesterday and different boat...but before I do, I have to tell you an oh so quick tidbit from last night.

I had low expectations for this one, right?

Well, we got picked up, via boat, right outside our place by Southern Gent. And this turns out to be an apropos name. He drops his rs in all the right places, he knows all the right families, he can shag, he went to prep school in VAH-JIN-YAH, etc. (Andohbytheway, I don't mean shag in the Brit way.) He's handsome, the boat is nice, he's confident. He's got great hair. It is not yacht hair, but its close, and its thick and has only a slight bit o'gray. Honestly, this man looks great for 47.

He's packed a cooler for us. Choice of good white, red wine or vodka and mixers. Takes us out to Shackleford Banks to see the horses. The boat is great, the sunset impressive. I'm digging it, man. He's treating us both fabulously. He's charming. Harley girl is impressed as well. I'm thinking, sweet. I wouldn't mind wasting some time with this guy. Could be fun.

I thought that until the moment when, 25 minutes into our boat trip (and our friendship), whilst Harley Girl was in the cabin below taking a quick pee, he decided, right in front of me, to piss off the back of the boat.

Then, 2 minutes after that, he made a bong out of a 7up can and took to taking a few hits.

Yeah.

Lots more to come. So much its gonna take hours to marinate on today. Plus I got a LAME ASS message from he-who-should-not-be-named at around 9pm last night. Message said:

"Out of courtesy, by any chance ru going to a house party in 5pts tonite?"

Out of courtesy, you Tool you, please get the fuck out of my life. I don't give a hairy rats ASS that you are going to a party in Five Points. My world no longer intersects with yours. You hang out in Sears Craftsman Central with all the other striped shirt guys. Drink your red bull, hang out with the girls who like Lifetime movies of the week and own cats.

I thought the message itself was mean spirited under the guise of courtesy, the worst sort of conceit there is. Sums up what I think of him, and my response back to him was silence.

No matter how good-looking or good in bed he is, someone somewhere is sick of his shit!

So... the last time I wrote, the Hottie had broken up with me. Well folks, everything old is new again and here I am, 7 months later, and he's done it again.

(One author's note: He hated this blog, and getting back together with him was the reason I gave it up. He said it was full of lies...I just reread the entire thing - posts going back to 2005 - which is a really good thing. This crap really happened! He didn't like it b/c it was a mirror back to him of his bad behaviour! This guy has been selfish from the start. Let's all remember the Pass the Altoid game reaction from fall 2005- apparently okay for him to be in a private room with a naked 22 year old but not for me to play what was an innocent kissing game with friends. Whatever. Sounds selfish even 18 months later.)

The difference is, after a large number of days of feeling really fucking sorry, really really fucking sorry for myself, and crying so hard I could almost vomit from the sadness, I realized that this is good. Let someone else deal with his shit. Shame on me for sticking it out despite the lack of respect and bad behaviour.

It hasn't been easy. Rock Star has been there with a catcher's mitt for me too many times to count in the last two weeks. So has her BF Vegas. RS2/Hotness returned briefly from her international assignment and fit me into her ridiculously hectic schedule. She didn't need to deal with my crap on top of everything else she has going on, but she did it anyway. I'm in awe. My other beautiful friend from Chapel Hill (we'll call her Fun Girl for now) has literally been babysitting me - and being the best advice giver I have ever known. My Ad Girl friend has made dinner, thrown a sangria party, and is coming over for dinner all within one week. I have 9-10 friends, both guys and girls, who are rallying around and it is not going unnoticed. I have the best friends in the world.

(And I realize that none of them liked him. Not one person. Even those who knew him separate from me. They put up with him b/c of me.)

Even my ex husband has even been a shoulder to cry on. He has been a wealth of wisdom and positiveness, especially since he does know me well and we were once actually married. His advice:

"Listen...men are like buses. When one pulls away, there's always another coming right down the road, ready to pick you up. Get on the wrong one, and who knows where you might end up..."

Where's that transit schedule??? Will this next bus be nicer, in better shape?