The Juju Incident

Ahh the Juju….Still convinced it is one of this century’s greatest inventions. To date I have converted two friends to the Juju life and I think they love it as much as I do.

> See The First Installment Here <

But let’s be real…like everything in life, even the greatest of things are not without their humorous woes of unfortunate occurrences…so let me retell “the incident”. Following are actual messages I sent to a handful of my closest girlfriends during “the incident” It was a Saturday and I was working at a public venue:

Omg omg omg this can't be happening. I'm at the venue. I have my period. I always use the disabled toilet down here because 1) I know there are no disabled people currently at this venue and our area is closed to the public and 2) I don't like people hearing me pee. Plus I like the space and privacy of having a bathroom to use.

I've just gone to pee and the toilet is locked. Not in use. Just not yet unlocked by the venue... Shit. I head off to the shared bathroom and discover my juju has leaked.

I now NEED a private bathroom to rinse it and readjust. I walk around till I find one upstairs. I feel bad using it as this is the public area and there could well be a disabled person who needs it. But I NEED it, so I go in.

Juju is in a really weird place. Hard to reach. Hard to grasp. In an effort to try and get a good grip, I grab the tail with my nails and I am just about to insert a finger from my other hand to pop it out but I squeezed too tight or dug in too much with my nails and it broke off. And I can't get it out...... So now I'm just sitting here in the disabled toilet trying to calm down in the hopes that I can magically get it out without the tail end......for Fuck Sake!!!

Later that moment:
ok update... In sitting there typing all that out, I've managed to calm down enough and it has in fact miraculously moved into a better place for removal.

So I take it out but the sink is sort of faraway...too far to scurry to with my pants around my ankles, it is a public bathroom after all. So I lean over to hitch my pants up half way but in doing so, I accidentally tipped the cup and poured blood all over the floor!! Whoops.

I scuttle over to the sink with my pants halfway up my legs and wash out my juju, scuttle back to the toilet and re-insert it, fix my clothes and then clean the floor and thoroughly wash my hands.

But now because the soft, round tip is broken off, I can feel the tail ....

Thankfully, a few months back when I converted a friend to the Juju Life, when she ordered hers, I just willy nilly ordered a second one. You get free postage for a certain amount so I thought, why the hell not. And thank god I did because I was able to throw that Juju out and start using the new one…I will not be taking extra care to try not to pinch the tail too tight with my nails.

Even after this ordeal….I still claim the Juju way is the ONLY way.

 

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Single Mum

You ask me why I'm single? How I'm single? You say I'm such a strong woman, I'm so pretty, I'm clever and funny... how am I alone?

I'll tell you why..... I'll tell you how.. because I am not alone. I am in the most beautiful relationship with the love of my life. My daughter.

I get kisses on the forehead. I am the most important person in the world to someone. I am the one they confide in. They hold my hand in public. We laugh together. We have movie dates. We have coffee dates and go out to dinner together and we fall asleep in each others arms.

 

Why would I make her sleep in her own bed so I could let someone else in? I live with the love of my life and one day she will grow up and move out and maybe then I'll take you up on the offer of going to dinner with your best friends, younger brother's, bosses, best mate.

 

Till then this is why I'm single.

 But I'm not alone.

*Disclaimer: Not my own piece of writing, came across it on the world wide web...but definitely true to my current lifestyle with my "Mini-Me" Muffin*

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Five Weeks - The End of Mourning. The Beginning of my Freedom

I've been doing some very serious thinking.

I had another bad dream about The Brazilian last night. Basically replaying the breakup and the heartache all over again in my dreams, stealing my sleep and disturbing my mind. But it got me thinking about it all and what went wrong.

It is all so clear to me now.

The way he parades himself to all those other women, is the same as he did when he and I first met. I know this because I read the messages he sent to some of them.

He is portraying himself as a sexy, fit, athletic 30-something divorced father of two, victim to a cruel ex wife, highly educated, successful and rich businessman being CIO and partner of an awesome business in Brazil.

It occurred to me that he is suffering his own insecurity and lack of self worth. He finds his "confidence" in his arrogance by masquerading himself as the aforementioned man.

Who he really is, is a middle aged man, gaining weight from sheer lack of motivation and a healthy diet, divorced by the woman who paid his way for the last four years, highly educated but with degree's and certifications that are currently absolutely useless to him, and the occasional email about a business idea, pipe dream, from some guy he used to know in Brazil.

He is suffering from all of these as failures.

And when his true identity became clear to me, I still loved him in spite of all of those "failures". Because I didn't see him as a man with many failures but more as a man going through a rough patch with great potential to become someone better. I loved him unconditionally.
I was not after his money, his knowledge, his anything. But it was this unconditional love that was the problem.
Well, if we're being honest, his egotistical arrogance was the problem, but it was this unconditional love that was the downfall.

I saw past the rich, educated, successful sexy man he wanted to be and so he sought that attention from all his whores who believed him, who didn't know the ugly truths behind his beautiful mask.

He wanted to be admired. He wanted to be feared. He wanted to be seen as someone else. Someone more successful than he. And even though I loved him beyond all of that, and saw the potential in him, his strong desire to be seen and wanted as this fake man blindsided him to what was right there in front of him. Blind sided him to the love and attention and affection that this "lesser man" was being given.
Unconditionally.

Our relationship was doomed to fail the minute I fell in love with who he really was and who I thought he could be.

I thought the hardship would humble him and give him strength to be even better than the fake man he wanted to be but his arrogance as that fake man was too strong. No amount of genuine love from me to him was going to cut through that façade.

I see that now.

And it's actually quite sad. I almost feel sorry for him.

Having understood all of the above and seeing the situation for what it is, I realise it was never me or anything I did. It's a battle he is obviously fighting with himself. Hopefully one day he will drop the façade, stop trying to be someone he's not and take the steps needed to become the man I thought he could become.
Strong and confident without arrogance.
Successful yet humble.

For all of this...I forgive him.

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Four Weeks, One Month

It has been four weeks since I saved myself.
I will never be able to understand how someone can be so cruel behind their "I Love You"'s, so dishonest in every way.
I guess it doesn't matter now.
I am actually glad it's over. 
I'm free.

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Three Weeks

It has been three weeks since you broke my heart. 
I hate you for what you did to me. But sooner or later I know I need to let go of that hate. Because holding onto that hate is just another form/disguise/way of holding onto you. 
I don’t need to hold onto you in any way, as if holding onto something about you is some form of life raft, a safety net…
You are the one I needed saving from and letting go completely is my life raft, my safety net.
I'm not ready to forgive you yet...but the anger is slowly fading and I am seeing things more clearly now.
It has been three weeks since I saved myself

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Two Weeks

It has been two weeks since you broke my heart. 
Yes, it is still broken. 
I have shed but a few small tears for you, though you don't deserve them. 
My sadness is still strong, my anger insurmountable.
You have now begun to haunt my dreams, stealing my sleep. 
Still, somehow I am stronger.
Somehow I know I'll survive. 
It has been two weeks since I saved myself.

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One Week

It has been one week since you broke my heart. 
I am not sure if it will ever mend itself. 
I am sad for what I thought we were. But I have not shed a tear for you. Not since I walked out that door. 
I am still mad. I will be for a while yet. 
But I've grown a confidence I never knew I had. I've developed a strength I might never have known was inside me had you not broken my heart. 
It has been one week since I saved myself

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