I hope everyone gets their fill of corned beef and cabbage, Guinness, and Irish whiskey today. Me, I've got about as much Irish in me as the President, so I'll be more of an observer than a participant in the various celebrations. Besides, my weekend of drunken buffoonery is lurking just around the corner, and frankly, I can't spare the brain cells.
Besides, I'm kinda tired. I just got home from a ridiculously long night at work, although it was quite profitable. When I came in, there was only one table going, it was shorthanded, and two of the players were a couple of the biggest stiffs in the room. Not a good sign. Everyone else was cool, though, so it kinda made up for my losses, although the two stiffs were scooping pot after pot. I hate it when that happens.
Eventually, I needed to empty my pocket and change the mojo up, so I had the floorman sit down at the table while I got a drink of water and racked up all of my tokes. Not two minutes after I got up, he dealt a small jackpot hand--one of the players had pocket Eights and made Four of a Kind, and this month, four eights pays $1500 plus everyone else at the table gets a hundred bucks!
Unbelievable -- the guy sat down and dealt two hands and hits a jackpot! So, I jumped back in the game while he did all the paperwork and called surveillance, and that loosened the game up a bit. One of the stiffs actually started toking, which was nice, but when the money finally got delivered from the cage, I had the floorman sit back down at the table and make the payouts--he dealt the hand, so he should get all the tokes.
The players took good care of him, and then when I got back in the game, I was the lucky recipient of a few extra bucks that I didn't really earn. But I'm not complaining. Since everyone at the table had an extra hundred dollars all of the sudden, the game didn't break up--it went on all night long.
I was locked down pretty much all night, so it was a lucrative one for me. And even though the money was good, I was kinda glad when the table broke--I was ready to go home. I'm now 'officially' on vacation, although they could conceivably call me tomorrow if they needed me. I wouldn't mind, but I really doubt that it's gonna happen.
So, yeah, it's now March Madness time for Mikey!
A few folks are already here--Angy and Sticky--for instance, but I'm not nearly as close with them as we used to be, so I probably won't see them at all until probably Thursday night. Tomorrow night I'll see a couple of folks for dinner, but Thursday is when I start to really Get It On!
My plan today is to rest, do laundry, and start packing. I also need to get a bunch of music moved over to the iPod. After that, I'm gonna clean my room and scrub the bathroom one last time, just so it's all sparkly clean when I come back from four days of debauchery.
Right now, my bedroom looks like Christmas morning hit again--I've got tissue paper, empty boxes, and wrapping materials strewn all over--I unpacked my new luggage set and I've done a bit of shopping, and the remains haven't made it to the garbage yet. Once I get all those chores done, I'll gas up the truck one more time and go and have it washed, maybe hit the liquor store for an extra bottle of rum, and then I'm good to go.
Also, I didn't feel like addressing this right now, but I feel I have to. This will be the final word on Marcie...
It looks like my last post created quite a stir, and I've created some expectations that I can't live up to. I apologize for that. It seems that 'the Marcie situation' has grown so large and out of proportion and into such a huge issue, that it feels like the over-arching theme of my life this week, and thus, this website. That is not true. I honestly hadn't thought much about her.
Spending the night thinking about the situation and my readers, and gauging their reaction, I've decided that there will be no secret Word document that only those who've donated can see. That has 'Bad Idea' written all over it. I guess I didn't quite think it through at first.
First of all, the whole thing can be summed up in just a few sentences, so here it is: Marcie has much on her plate--much more than I've ever said here. But as far as her and I being a 'we' goes, that was never gonna happen. I mentioned that in the 'Miracle' post several days back. There's just too much drama, and I would be the recipient of the backlash. Somebody has to pay for all the shiat she's been through, and well, that was me. I understand and accept my role in this whole thing. I was an easy target--I'm the first guy she's been with in a very long time that wasn't gonna beat her ass, spit on her, push her around or tell her what a loser she was whenever any conflict arose. So when she needed someplace to vent, there I was--and honestly, she needed somebody that SHE could kick around (figuratively), if only for her healing process to begin.
This of course, is my freshmen psyche 101 take on things, looking back with a better perspective.
We were never going to be together as a couple and we both knew that even though we shared a very unique and strong bond, it was going to be severed eventually, and it was going to be very painful. It just happened sooner rather than later. And deep down, we both know that it's much easier that way.
We were talking last Monday afternoon, and she was having a very bad day, and I was feeling like she was blowing me off. I think my exact words were I guess I've just got to get used to you not needing me anymore, huh? and well, that was probably the exact wrong thing to say. It spun out of control from there, and now, well, our paths have diverted and my role in her life is over.
Did I have strong feelings for her? Well yes--it's hard not to when you go through hell with somebody, especially if you find them attractive. But do I realize now, a week later, that I dodged a HUGE bullet? Yes, yes, I do. Am I depressed, angry, bitter or hurt? Not really, and certainly not to the extent that people seem to think I am (or even worse, wish I were). Honestly, I feel like a huge burden is off of my shoulders.
That whole 'Crazy Bitch' thing? Well, it gave me a chuckle, and it appeals to the inner adolescent that all men are when it comes right down to it. My ego is a little bruised, but hey, I've been dissed by the best of them. That's just me being a stupid guy.
Do I feel used? Surprisingly, not really. I may have right at first, but I was speaking to one of the folks who donated a nice sum to her, and he set me straight. In all of this, no matter what happens, her kids have a roof over their heads and a fridge full of groceries--and for a few days there, it was questionable if that was going to be the case. Personal feelings aside, some folks may think she used me/us, but I think if you walked a mile in her shoes, you'd understand why. Interpersonal relationships are a low priority when you've got two kids to take care of and no place to live, and there's no need to waste energy on something that's gonna end soon, anyways. I know that's kind of rambling, but I don't feel used. I feel like I did the right thing all along, and we made a difference. I cannot control whether or not anyone else appreciates it, even if that 'anyone' is the recipient.
So Marcie is gone. I wish her well and hope that her life eventually turns out better. I'll sleep well at night knowing that I did all I could for her, and I hope that she eventually finds somebody that makes her happy and gives her joy in her life.
Now, as far as some of you other knuckleheads go, I've got to say, this whole experience has been a master's-level course in Human Nature. Good lord, some of the comments and emails I've gotten--I'm amazed that so many people live in the emotional gutter and wish ill-will upon others. And also, one thing I noticed is that out of all the people who were stomping their feet and insisting that they get to know all the details, not one of them stepped up and donated to her cause when the call went out. Not one. Yet they bitch and moan to me that I somehow 'owed' them an explanation. Fuck that. I don't owe anyone a god-damn thing. Especially you whiners who didn't help out. On the other hand, ever single person who stepped up and hit the Marcie fund or sent checks has been nothing but supportive, and not one of them has said Yeah, you owe it to us to give us the sordid details. It's amazing--it's like the people with class were the first ones to step up and donate, and yet they are the least interested in the ensuing ugliness.
Now, I have a lot of friends and readers who did not donate, and I don't blame you or fault you folks one bit. It's just the idiots who think I owe them something who I have a problem with. Even better are the handful of drooling retards who think that because they have about 5% of the information, they know exactly what's going on out here. My favorites are the ones who insist that she's back with her ex. Oh. My. God. Please--just stop talking. You have no idea what you're talking about and you sound like a bunch of drooling fist-humpers when you speculate. I also love the ones who say that Well, if you don't tell us what happened, next time, nobody is gonna ever give you any money again. First of all, jackasses, I doubt there will be a next time, and secondly, you are so wrong it's pathetic. If I had any situation--a family emergency, a serious illness, loss of my job, etc.--I could put the word out and good people would step up. I get unsolicited offers from readers all the time to assist with little things here and there, and my friends are good people. Most of my readers are, too. It's just a small percentage of fools that pollute the water here. So seriously, keep your thoughts to yourselves, because all you're doing is offering further proof that you're a moron. If you don't like the explanation I've given, or you have a problem with me, tough shit, go read somebody else's blog. I certainly don't need you.
The bottom line is, we did a good thing here, regardless of what my detractors may think.
So there. It's over. I'm done talking about it, and frankly, it's kinda like a bad coleslaw thread--it took on a life of it's own, and now I'm over it. I'm not thinking about it anymore, expending any energy on it, and I'll probably ignore any questions I get about her from here on out. I've moved on, she's moved on, and so should everyone else.
I feel much better now, again, another burden lifted.
And since I planted that ugly ass picture in your mind at the top of the post, here is some eye-candy to make up for it:
Y'all have a wonderful day!
Mikey
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