July 21. I love my therapist. When I told her that I did not represent enough value to ****, that’s why she cheated on me, my therapist said, "Cheating is not about you. It’s about her."
I’m getting closer with… Lots of women want me. Lots of women would love to be in an exclusive relationship with me.
I could not sleep last night. I’m excited about the new life I’m creating for myself.
There were lots of hot chicks at …. last night. I bet some of them would like a piece of me.
My therapist assured me that we were going to have a good positive end to our relationship. That made me cry for the first time in my therapy. I fear loss.
When I watch how hard these Starbucks employees work, I’m glad I don’t have a real job.
I’m glad ****** won’t have coffee with me. It means there’s an adult in charge of our relationship.
I realize now from ****’s tone of voice and phrasing that she regarded her….as something that would arouse my ardor and jealousy. From this way of thinking, **** is not a cheater and this has not been a pattern of her behavior and will not be in the future. Rather, she is just foolish. But if this is so, why did she wait six days to tell me? The only way that delay makes sense is if she realized that what she did would provoke a strong reaction from me. I could tell a change in her voice since she hooked up with… There was less love in it.
July 22. My therapist is right. I feel so much better since I told **** how I feel. I feel relieved of a burden. For the past 12 days, I’ve been walking around saying things to **** in my head. Now I am no longer doing that. I feel free to get on with my life.
There was a hot Korean girl in my class last night. I wish I would’ve stayed longer to chat with her. She glanced at me a couple of times. I think she’s a possibility.
What can I do to make today great? I want to have a good conversation with a stranger. I want to connect. I want to expand my world.
My driving job has lasted six weeks longer than I expected. I have an extra $3,000 in my pocket.
I feel so much better today having gotten a good night’s sleep.
I’m sitting here waiting for ****’s response to my email.
I feel good that I made five blog posts last night. I’m back in the driver’s seat.
As I get older, I do not want to get less attractive to women. Love could hit me at any time.
I need love and nurturing. My life has had a huge hole in it since Cathy Seipp died.
July 23. I missed chances the last two nights to connect with a cute girl. It feels great to connect with Naama*. She gets my sense of humor. I have …. tonight. It’s a great chance to connect with a Jewish girl.
My blog hand is strong and I’m churning out the posts. I’m feeling my power in the Jewish community. Everything is coming together. Soon I’ll be getting invites to speak. Everything is peaking. My Alexander Technique, my finances, my yoga, my months without illness, my Orthodox conversion, my six-month run with ****, everything is going my way. I’ve had this illusion before but this time it is real. I am a mesmerizing public speaker. I can captivate a room. I feel strong and focused. I want to keep up my daily meditation, cold shower, green leafy vegetables. I am poised to capitalize on my hard work and show the world what I’ve got. Every blog post, every video I make, presents my new self to the world and remakes my image. Soon I’ll be out of the Google sandbox and the influence of my website will return. I just need a few good scoops to get my site rocking and put the fear of God into Orthodox Jews in Los Angeles.
I want to write out all the things I hate about ****. Remember when she stole a class at …. and refused to tell me if she had repaid it. Remember all the questions I asked her that she would not answer. How she would not tell me what she was laughing at. Why is she with me if she does not want to connect with me?
Her ball-busting. Remember when I asked her if she wanted to go away for a few days and she said, "I wouldn’t be opposed to that." All the times before, she just said no. When she could not make her flight to Cancun and holed up in a hotel in Santa Monica for the weekend. She told me spent the time alone. I bet. She’s not good wife material. It’s no accident she’s never married. It’s no accident I’ve never married.
My time with **** was a good ride. I played it smart. I can feel good about that. I can feel good about the way it ended. It revealed her true colors. I refuse to put up with that. No second chances on fidelity. It’s good to have your values clear in these matters and to act decisively on them.
It is discouraging how long it takes to find a great girl like ****. As I become more famous and successful, my chances of finding a great woman increase. Remember that 25yo Persian chick in Brentwood who said she’d date me if I could find just one Orthodox rabbi who spoke well of me?
**** blindsided me twice about Vicki*. Never again. She won’t dare show her cheating face in …. Time will show what a time bomb I’ve left behind.
Remember how I cut —- out of my life. She’s an alcoholic. I cut the cancer out of my life.
Remember how —— would get together with exes behind my back. How she would xanax out and not tell me what was going on? The way to handle such ballbusters is to stay cool, calm and collected. Emotionally even. No use crying over these washed up old hags. I want a hot 25yo who has herself together and wants to commit to marriage.
It gives me great pleasure how I outmaneuvered …. on my conversion. When I’m done, I’ll lay down the hammer. No more Mr. Nice Guy.
I fear I am a monster. I need more therapy. I’m so vindictive. I fear that I am throwing my life away in delusions of grandeur. That hot blonde chick at Starbucks — she just looked at me with disdain! I seem to be popular at yoga. I have my share of friends in the Alexander Technique world.
I’m not sure what I want most — to feel superior to everyone or to connect with good people.
I picture myself at a reconciliation meeting with Rabbi X. "What do you want to do differently this time around?" he asks.
"This time," I say, "no more Mr. Nice Guy."
July 24. I saw this hot chick at …. last night. Our eyes met a few times. She smiled at me once. Maybe that is her job, to be nice to people. Maybe it was a pity smile. At least I got out into Jewish life last night and scored an invite to … Shabbos table tonight for the first time in 12 years. I knocked out a great blog post last night. I hope a way opens up for me to attend the all-day Limmud Aug. 9 for $50.
You can only obsess about one chick at a time. Every minute I think about …., I don’t think about ****.
With a break, I can pay for two more semester of Alexander Technique teacher training. Then I am almost halfway through. Then I can smell the finish line. I am a finisher.
I will feel such achievement and self-esteem once I finish with the Beit Din.
July 26. I was not impressive with Rabbi ** this morning. I’ve been sleepwalking through my conversion class. Now I need to get more serious and memorize everything. I failed the test this morning. The rabbi will test me again in a month. With luck, I’ll finish the conversion before Rosh Hashanah.
What’s good about today? It’s typical of me. I’m cool with failing once or twice to get a clearer picture of what I need to learn. It costs me more time and money. I did not disgrace myself today.
I felt glimmerings of friendship, family and community over Shabbat. It gives me hope for what I can recapture on my Jewish journey.
I need to put orthotics back in shoes. My ankles are rolling. So what
if they mash the hell out of plantar fascitis? My podiatrist prescribes
them and my physical therapist opposes them.
I am the most cynical person you will ever meet, but there seems to be a glow to people who practice Kundalini yoga. They stand out. They are more poised, more gentle, more centered, more kind. I know that I am all of those things when I get out of class. I tend to be kinder and gentler with myself and then I transfer all of that to those around me while simultaneously remaining the fiercest lover in the world.
I’ve bought a lot of friends to Kundalini Yoga and almost none of them get it. As they walk out of class, they’re unchanged. They talk in the same cynical way. It jars me. I’m no longer the most inappropriate person in the room.
I walked into my first Kundalini Yoga class ready to change my life. The way I was was not working. I wanted to let go of the barriers I throw up between myself and others.
July 27. I finally told M. about my Orthodox conversion. She’s the first person I’ve told who I did not need to tell. I feel like I’ll emerge from the mikveh a better Jew with a more secure place in the Orthodox community.
I find myself going through the day thinking, "I’d like to write about that in my journal."
I love it that Rabbi YY who was so gung-ho to take me to a Beit Din has now walked away. He knows he’ll lose. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I get an apology from him. I love standing up to a bully. Many of these rabbis, these religious leaders, think they’re so holy but much of the time they use their religious position and their brains and their rhetorical abilities to carve up people. They’re not used to being challenged by someone so low on the status pole as myself.
I can be an unpleasant surprise for such bullies. I’m not as dumb as I look.
I’ll write the history of many of these blokes. They’ll go down in history primarily for how they’ve treated me. Some of them, not so nice.
Or maybe I am just a narcissistic prick.
