Click on his mugshot. I know what you’re thinking.
Also, you can read more about this man sick individual here.
Click on his mugshot. I know what you’re thinking.
Also, you can read more about this man sick individual here.
I know callouts should be call outs but my mind likes it better as-is. tay? So lets all pretend for the remainder of this blog that there is such a word. tay? I’m sick and whiney. Let me have my way. Really is shoutout even a word? Whatev.
CALLOUTS!
The 1st callout is the oh so legendary asinine Frappe. Oh yes. More on that in a future blog post because I am going to do exactly what I said I would CALL HIM OUT. I am debating if I should call him out to the extent that it will be googleable. Thoughts? To be honest he is lucky I am not going to the news…
I’m going to use this ol’ blog to call myself out on the fact that over the past month I have not been as active as I should have been in regards to gaining unemployment. I need to get serious. I’m manning up and getting serious starting… tomorrow.
Now on to the shoutouts, HOLLER!
Aussie hair products. Seriously. I have decided to cut costs seeing I am still unemployed and one of the places I am cutting costs is my hair products. I decided to say goodbye to Redken and hello to a high school favorite, Aussie. Dude, they smell delish and work. Why did I ever get all fancy and switch to Redken?
Cooking. I am learning to love it and would like to thank Erin from State I am In for 2 of my most recent recipe attempts; Goat Cheese Fettuccine and Gingerbread Pancakes.
Qtips. What can I say? I love ‘em and cant imagine life without ‘em.
You can read the beginning of the saga here.
I fell asleep heavy Monday night. I was anxious and panicked. I needed to blog. I blog to release feelings and vent. For the first time in my “blogging career” I didn’t feel like I could blog all of the feelings and events that had occurred before I settled into bed.
Tuesday was spent with unexpected bouts of my eyes filling with tears until the floodgates opened.
I pride myself in being an anonymous blogger who shares it all; the good, bad, pretty, and sometimes very ugly. I am hardcore. My blog symbolizes my many moods and I don’t cater to my audience. I don’t put on a happy face to appease my feed readers because everyone loves happy blogs full of cupcakes, puppies, and rainbows. I blog for therapy. Blogging makes me laugh, smile, and cry.
I tossed and turned for hours thinking about the email conversation I had with Frappe’s Mom. We both knew he was wrong and there was no excuse for his action but the actions were somewhat “rationalized”. I then moved on to analyzing. How personal is too personal when blogging?
I never thought I would have to ask myself that question. Sure, I do have secrets. Secrets from the past that once I feel comfortable with I will write about here. I will release them but I own them. I will feel relieved when these secrets are divulged. I will reap the benefits. Divulging another person’s secret does nothing for me. I do not own that secret.
If this was a fully personal blog I would be writing about what the emails entailed but I have decided this is not a fully personal blog.
I will tell you that I met Frappe for the final payment of the money had owed me. I handed him my handwritten receipt with tears in my eyes.
I do not hate Frappe. I will not discontinue talking to Frappe. I will support Frappe as a friend. I forgive him. He is a good person. Good people sometimes do bad things. Frappe is doing exactly what I preach on my blog, he is seeking help. A stigma has weighed heavily on him for the last few years and he refuses to be a prisoner. I can only have respect for a person like this.
This blog ends another chapter of my “stormy” life. I’ve learned that everything isn’t what it seems and you cannot be afraid to stand up for something without giving a full explanation, as I support Frappe. You can call me crazy, family can call me crazy, friends can call me crazy but I will stand firm knowing with all of my heart that I need to forgive and support.
I cant say I am thankful for the heartbreak or trouble this situation has caused me but I can say I feel like I was put in this situation for a reason and I will do my part and support Frappe.
Fridays lack the excitement after being unemployed for 5 months. A big thanks to you RECESSION for stealing the “oomph” Fridays once possessed. Seriously. I need a job. NOW.
I haven’t been writing much because my life is dull but dramatic and I have been handling it well.
That is until I received a telephone call from Frappe at 11:30 last night.
He wanted to tell me he was sorry for making a disaster out of my life. He then went on to tell me that he was admitting himself into an institution on Saturday. An institution to help him for his addiction to money. Really? I hope they help him on his tendency to lie, cheat, and steal too.
Whatever, seriously. What the fuck ever.
I continued listening to his “bullshit” for about 15 minutes. In the garbled stream of bullshit I happened to hear the word “girlfriend’. He claimed he had a girlfriend while we were dating. She was simply on vacation while we were together. This made me cry. No need to tell me what an idiot I am, I am fully aware. I ended the conversation briefly after warning him that he had better have the rest of my money by 11pm today as we had discussed.
I discussed this with my Mom this morning and she screamed “BULLSHIT”. My lack of self-esteem believes him to an extent because he has layed off of his need to stalk me with incessant telephone calls, emails, and texts. Then again he probably knows he doesn’t have a chance and in his mind wants to look like somewhat of a man.
Who knows. Man has issues. Lots of them.
Issues are contagious and I have enough of my own.
The following post has been sitting in my draft bin. It’s a partial recap of my weekend in Lake Geneva. I am not going to finish the blog. There is no reason to relive the weekend or recap a weekend full of lies and deceit. Please do not judge, as I didn’t reread this post before hitting the publish button.
We arrived and checked into our Inn which was as quaint as a B&B with more privacy than a hotel suite. Yes, it was as fantastic as it sounds.
We didn’t have much time to try out the bed covered in luxurious linens that excite me more than linens really should excite someone because we had dinner reservations at Medusas, a Mediterranean bistro in town.
The atmosphere of Medusa’s neighboring lounge was as delicious as we found the food was later that evening. Dinner was a mixture of amazing food, wonderful conversation, and butterflies in my belly.
The night ended with a plate of Banana Foster complete with a candle for Frappe to blow out in celebration of his birthday. I obviously could not wait to mess up the luxurious linens on the King size bed that awaited us because I blew out the candle.
No worries. We messed up the sheets. We messed them up good.
We awoke Saturday morning to a chap at our cottage door, which was cleverly named “The Windsor” as all of the cottages are named after towns in England where the Inn keepers are originally from. The Inn keeper himself was delivering our breakfast which was an assortment of fresh fruit, danishes, warm croissants, cereal, yogurt, and orange juice.
Frappe was a little to eager so early in the morning and was ready to conquer the town. I retired back to bed as Frappe suited up to explore the town and I am sure small talk with all who would small talk with him.
He’s a friendly guy.
I took advantage of the Jacuzzi tub, heated towel rack, and heated floors of the bathroom. Le Heaven! I drank my orange juice out of a champagne glass and bathed in the relaxing bath salts while reading a chapter or two of American Wife.
Frappe returned back to me just as I was finishing getting ready and we decided to take a walk around the lake, hit up the shops, and eat lunch.
Everything was beautiful and perfect. I love exploring new towns full of fun general stores, candle shops, pet boutiques, and cafes.
The “morning after” was everything as perfect as the night before.
We retired back to the Inn for an “afternoon nap”. We really did nap, among a few other things.
I’m anxious. Anxious for this miniseries to end.
I met him in Starbucks parking lot at 7:45 pm to claim $500. We had agreed to meet at 8 am but he needed to finish community service before he went to court for who knows what on Monday morning. I gave him a break and obliged.
He tossed 5 one-hundred dollar bills into my car via the tiny crack I left in the passenger side window. He didn’t even get out of his car. I tossed him a receipt and we each sped off in seperate directions. I couldn’t drive quick enough.
Yes, we agreed on a first payment in the amount of $600. I obliged with his offering of a first payment in the amount of $500.
He didnt ask to talk and no more than 10 words were exchanged between us.
I text messaged him later in the evening to remind him that I want the final $350 by Friday. He responded, “I know.”
He called me this morning. It seems that he had court today and his probation officer or as he called him “PO” mentioned the Citizen Complaint. I am not sure whether to believe him. Can you blame me? The detective I dealt with assured me the Citizen Complaint would not affect him unless I came back into the station to file a report.
So my life is still at a halt until Friday. I hope by the end of next weekend this mini-series will have an ending.
I know there will not be a happy ending but all I am looking for is an end.
I have remained in short contact with him in regards to when he is going to drop off the money. We have made plans to meet at a local coffee shop on Sunday at 12pm.
I have received random telephone calls from him with music in the background but immediately just hang up the phone and ignore the phone calls and the music in the background. I have received numerous “unknown” telephone calls, I am almost positive they are him. I received a string of text messages from him last night which included “I will turn my life around. I will remember you for life” “I should have been honest with you from the beginning, I didnt know I was going to fall for you.”
I cry.
It hurts but I am proud of myself. I am proud that I put my “big girl” panties on.
My nights of insomnia filled with my need to analyze the situation are not disappearing. I question everything that occurred in the 2 months we dated from his “love” for me to if he really did go to the dentist as he said he did.
I feel crazy.
The whirlwind of emotions that I feel are strong but I know they will fade. I am confident they will and until then I have to ride them out.
I feel in limbo. I need closure. I need a bank account that doesn’t remind me of the deceit.
Tomorrow is Sunday and hopefully the last scene of this nightmare.
Remember my weekend in Lake Geneva? Well, one of the horrendous events that happened was Frappe pretty much abandoning me there on Sunday night. He took a taxi back home. In short, he led me to believe that I passed out and locked him out of the suite. I did pass out but I think it was all a coy plan of his. It’s difficult to explain and even more difficult to understand but it now makes sense. He couldn’t be out of state for longer than 2 days due to his probation/parole whatever it may have been therefore instead of being upfront with me he staged this big “scheme”.
This was the first red flag and the last red flag before things would end. Who would have thought?
So… who wants the rights to my memoir?
I am writing this blog in spurts. It’s not to keep you thriving off the drama that is my life but rather because I cannot compute the whole situation in one sitting. It brings tears to my eyes and puts my need to analyze in overdrive. You can read more about the nightmare here and here.
The officer must have sensed that this was the last option I would want to take and offered to file a “Citizen Complaint” and mediate the situation.
This was the route I decided to take. As much of a crook he is I didn’t and still do not want to put him behind bars. I want to scare him and show him that he cannot and will not get away with the shit he pulled but I just cannot put him behind bars.
The officer asked me to call him and then hand off the phone to him. I did. The conversation went as follows:
“Hi, its K. I am at the police department and the officer wants to talk to you.”
“Ok, that’s fine.”
“This is Officer **** from **** Police Department. I have your exgirlfriend here who says you used her debit card without her authorization. Shut Up, let me talk. Alright, I understand you say she allowed you to use it but I am looking at your background and a judge would think otherwise. If she files the report there will be a warrant out for your arrest and you will be looking at some major time as these are felonies you committed. She is willing to work things out with you in the form of a Citizen Complaint. I will let her to talk to you now”
I trembled and fumbled my words as I told him that he had until this Sunday to reimburse me $600 the amount which will bring my checking account (I hope) back out of the negatives and he has until the following Friday to reimburse me the $200 which was the amount of cash I had in the checking account before he withdrew the cash.
In summary. I am probably losing money but I do not care. I want my checking account out of the negative and this criminal out of my life. I emailed him as he had requested outlining the terms of the agreement. I ended the email with the following, “I hope you realize its not too late to turn your life around. You have good qualities and you need to look within.”
So were there any red flags?
To Be Continued..
*Other possible title for this series of posts: “Who Steals from the Unemployed, Seriously?”
A BIG thanks for the overwhelming amount of support on my last post.
The officer’s jaw dropped as the computer screen answered his question, “Let’s see what this guy is all about.” Tears flooded my eyes and my sister glared behind the officer at the computer screen in shock.
What is the man I “loved” about?
He has been charged with 2 counts of fleeing law enforcement and 5 counts of larceny/theft he has been CONVICTED of 3 counts of larceny, “done time”, and was last arrested in October of 2008.
I cannot put into thoughts let alone words the feelings that washed over me and continue to violate me in waves.
I dated a con-man. Let’s say that together… I dated a con-man. I fell in love with a con-man.
Nope, it still isn’t clicking.
My fear of the police department looking at me like a psycho exgirlfriend was a fear of the past. I am obviously the victim of someone who maliciously stole from me. The debit card never slipped out of my sequined clutch voluntarily, it was taken without my knowledge; stolen and used fraudulently.
The officer explained that the police report, if filed, would be for 1 count of theft and 3 counts of fraud and a warrant would be issued for his arrest. He would do time, a lot of time, due to his prior record and probable violation of probation/parole whatever you call it.
Call me crazy but the thought of me sending anyone to jail brings tears to my eyes even if it is someone who has violated me in the matter as he did.
To Be Continued…
it probably is.
It is a fact, I feel like the most moronic naive individual on the face of the planet right now.
I find it both sickening and amazing that someone who was just talking “future” with me last night had both lied and stole from me earlier in the day. People shouldn’t lie and steal on Sundays let alone any other day of the week and from someone they supposedly “love”. Let’s throw that word around loosely shall we? It seems to be the norm nowadays.
What am I getting at?
After a drunken amazing night celebrating one of my bestest birthdays on Saturday I had “left” my debit card and Stila powder compact on the floorboard of Frappe’s car.
I sometimes wonder now if I truly did drop my compact and debit card in his car. It might be the “crazy” talking but unfortunately I cannot ignore the “crazy” when it comes to Frappe.
I was relieved when he told me he was in possession of both of them. I shouldn’t have been. My debit card was probably safer soaked in vodka on the bottom of the dance floor of a popular Chicago nightclub.
I logged onto my bank account via the secure online internet portal and to my amazement there were 4 withdrawal that I did not and would not have authorized. There was a debit purchase at Burger King for $4 odd dollars, 2 ATM withdrawals from a town he neighbors totaling $408, and 1 ATM withdrawal from a different town he neighbors totaling $104. My account balance also glared red and negative, not just a couple dollars negative but the upper 200’s negative.
I felt sick. I called Frappe screaming and his words exactly, “I didn’t see anything the matter with it, I didn’t have anymore cash on me and the bank was closed yesterday. I figured I would just deposit the money back into your account today.”
What? Youmotherfuckingassholelyingsonofabitch!
Being the nice person that I am, I gave him a chance to redeem himself. He told me that he deposited $525 into my bank account via the drive-up teller.
In the meantime, I called my bank to cancel the debit card. The representative notified me that I could not dispute the charges until they actually posted to my account.
It is now almost 9 pm and there has not been a deposit made into my account. Yes, I am serious.
Where does this leave me? I am heartbroken, livid, and broke. I gave him a chance to redeem himself and he lied leaving me with no other option but to file police reports in the towns the transactions occurred.
I didn’t want to write this post, to face reality. I secretly hoped this was a nightmare and he would redeem himself and at least have an answer for his behavior. After writing this post, its concrete. I would have to be crazy to give him a 2nd chance and even crazier to not press charges. Right?
Yes, right. I have only told my Mom and my twitter/blog/IRL pal. I don’t plan on telling anyone right now because its all too raw and I need to feel stronger and more secure with the fact that what happened does not make me the idiot.
As I washed away the disappointment in an evening shower I felt like giving up on blogging. I felt and still feel that my “story” is just too much for myself let alone others. Who really wants to read this life of constant disappointment? What do I bring to others lives? I then thought about it. If I found this blog post while googling “my boyfriend stole from me” then I would probably feel less alone and less naive.
Unfortunately, it happens. I do not censor my life and that’s probably 75% of the reason almost none of you will ever meet me. I hide behind this blog but I hide for a cause.
I will not discontinue blogging for the above reasons and also because the peanut butter in the jar is disappearing at a fast pace and I can probably only scrape together enough jelly to make 1 more PB&J sandwich.
Yup. I wont discontinue blogging because I will eat and/or medicate myself to death.
So blog readers I need your advice. Have you heard of someone in this particular circumstance? Have you been in this particular situation? Did they/you go to the police? Will the police just look at me like a “crazy” ex-girlfriend?