::Let Me Clear My Throat::

In one hour, it's officially February 14th.  Valentines Day; also known as the greatest day of the year when you're in a relationship, after your anniversary and Christmas, of course.  When you're single, however, it's equivalent to getting pelted with rocks, then peed on.  It's also known as The Day I Don't leave My Bed.   V-Day was pretty eventful when Grande A-Hole and I were together, and that is some of the only credit I can give him.  He always worked it pretty hard with the flowers and candy and perfume and dinner and hotel.  I guess with this being the first year in a lot of years that I don't have that to look forward to, it is a bigger letdown than it would usually be.  It sucks hardcore, actually.   Valentines Day is actually pretty horrible if you think about it.  Sure, it's great if you aren't alone, but on the flipside, it's like salt in the wound, rubbing my single-ness in my face worse than any other day in the year.  There'

I'm determined to start turning this mutha out and start having a more positive outlook on how things are gonna be for me from now on. Sure, the beginning of this year...and most of the months before it were rough, to say the least, but it has to get better sometime...right?   I'm shedding a few things, and I don't mean just pounds (although alot of those have to find a new place to live too).  I'm shaking myself out of the Ram-Skin, and it really does feel like it's getting easier.  I realize how much harder he actually makes my life, and how much more he gives me to stress about.  It's a process, and it's not just gonna flip overnight for me, but I'm working on it.  I still get angry and bitter with him, especially when he lies to me (why the fuck he STILL continues to lie to me is beyond me).  I know this: he is a selfish, self centered, poor excuse for a human being who has been a drain on my existence and who still continues to try to be that.  I

As of tomorrow, the only place I'll have to rest my head will have a license plate on it.  It's not really what you think of when you hear the words 'mobile home', but in the literal sense of the phrase, that's what I'll have. I've been pretty fucked before.  I grew up dirt poor, but still had enough to get by and always had someone's roof over my head.  This...Nobody can be prepared for something like this.  Where do I go during the day?  Where do I park at night?  How do I shower, use the bathroom? Unless you've been in this situation, you can never begin to imagine how fucked up I feel right now.  What the hell am I gonna do?

In case you're doubting yourself or your judgement, I thought a picture would be good to back up my last post.  That's him.  You can almost see the word LIAR written on his forehead.

The worst kind of person around is one that lies and/or keeps secrets, especially when that secret could ultimately benefit the one it's being kept from.  I have a secret, and decided to finally come clean with it, because you never know who may be Googling you.   In the interest of risking my own anonimity, I would just like to state for the record that "Grande"'s real name is Ramsey Camarillo. He also goes by the nicknames of Rezorek or Rezo or  the less used Ramzilla. I decided that it would be a low down shame to keep all this information I have written on him a secret from all the poor, unsuspecting women he is probably sleeping with or may sleep with in the future.  He lives to dupe people, and their suffering makes him feel better about his own fucked up self image.  Nobody should be suckered by him again, so I'm doing a service. If Google has led you to this page, watch out girl- I was his victim for 5 years, and you'll just be next.