‘Eternal Sunshine Of a Cloudy Mind‘
Ten years ago, this month, I changed my life by getting a job at the local lobster house. C.J. was so proud of me back then. He told me “do your hair and makeup everyday, and get that money.”
Teardrops fell on my phone reading his texts in my car, that day, and I still remember it. Was he happy for me, wanting me to stay out the strip club; or was he wishing I would meet someone new while dolled up and leave him alone?
The boss of the lobster house thou, was perhaps the best boss I ever had. He encouraged my silly kitchen Youtube videos back then, and he thought me as a “Jenna Marbles.” A popular Youtube creator at the time. Everyone knew I was the young, tall, girl with her head in the clouds, waiting for a chance to uproot to Pennsylvania.
I was “a breath of fresh air,” and valued the first half of my years there.
I spent a while out of the strip club, but the lobster shack money was just about the same. Only enough to get by, and survive. Not save, and thrive. I wish I had fought harder back then, while life was simple, before all the drama and wasted years. Fought to just wait tables in Pennsylvania instead. Find a lowkey ghetto there to rent, verses the scary suburb armpit in Massachusetts where I was.
C.J., back in that day, texted me praise for “giving him space,” and he liked feeling that I wasn’t being a sad puppy-eyed girl needy, clingy, or ‘attached’. He later admitted I was actually a “settlement” to him, and ‘he could never be with me’. I’ll never forget crying on top of his chest in his bed, in his house rental, not ready to say goodbye, during ‘the lobster house years’.
I had made the choice to quit by April of 2016, because two years was enough being an overworked waitress. I had secured a safe attic apartment, a few blocks from the restaurant, I was out of the ghetto, and I was ready to move on from busy labor, and create some type of savings back in the club, while C.J.’s decision to not ‘give me real chance’ haunted my memory.
God I wish I went to Chaturbate instead of the strip club back then.
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Here we are a decade later from 2014. This morning, little sister semen demon has called me to “chat.” We haven’t spoke in months, but she’s excited to share with me that she’s just been hired as a part time bartender and server at the local lobster house. She’s quitting her upscale Italian serving job today, but wants my encouragement to do so. A lucky bitch.
I’m happy for her, but I cried a moment, soon after hanging up. March 2014, that restaurant gave me a serving job, and now March 2024 she gets to live my past life happily. Bartending thou, she’ll clear money I always dreamed of. Good for her.
They were hiring, a year ago, after the pandemic, and I stopped in there for a chat. My ex boss still talked to me with excitement and glitter in his eyes. Leaving there happened on a day off of this, so my side of the story never really mattered compared to the on duty fill in manager at the time…
Long story short, he told me I can never return, but he’ll always wish me well. ‘Remember me fondly.’
“No hard feelings.”
This was when I picked a different seafood restaurant to work for -after all these years of being waitress retired. My first day back on the horse was April Fools Day, a year ago, but I walked out the back door after asking Chaturbate that same day for help.
Chaturbate by now I thought would be $1000 every couple of weeks. My sister will be making that every 3-4 shifts bartending. $1000 a week is totally possible with couple cams, or full-time ladies with curves. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. But solo and awkward, I’m no where close to that… $1000 a month isn’t cutting it here.
Small beginnings are still beginnings thou. I’m determined to stick my guns, and prove myself worthy. Earning more soon. I need a lucky repeat of late-September private camming with a kind, sweet, man!
It took me one year of solo streaming to gather 7,777 Chaturbate follows… it takes some models one or two days. I’ve found a new Chaturbate couple via front page promo, and after their new tag they are sitting on a following of 6,000 in a matter of one week. ‘Hisfrecklesntits’ a nameless account, no bio, no OF, just live intimacy.
It’s wholesome to watch them be so playful, and funny. His cross tattoo is attractive. Her submissive energy. Married soulmates have a compatible sense of humor too, that’s obvious… I remember thinking C.J. had a dark humor that tickled me in a way no one else did.
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I watched “Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind” last weekend because of Miss Ariana Grande.
Her music video for “We Can’t be Friends,” mirrors the movie, and suggests that the love her and Mac Miller shared will haunt her thru every relationship she is in, until she gets a lobotomy.
I don’t wish for a lobotomy because I don’t consider myself traumatized by a love lost. I once considered myself highly favored to have experienced it. I’ll never turn around and wish for amnesia, when my life was so boring and pointless before C.J. He saved my life all those years ago. However, I am smart enough to know now that this love story is far gone.
For anyone waiting on an imaginal smut story… I can’t write fantasy erotica the way I want to, because it’s not fair to myself. I can’t desire anymore something make believe.
My 2018 Chevy is a lemon, the turbo in the engine is shot, head gasket blown, oil pan and cover gasket a leaking mess -so I can’t just demand C.J’s time/attention like I used to. I must not panic, or trigger any chest pain, at the thought of never seeing him again, but writing smut won’t help my nervous system any, begging for him mentally.
I wasn’t able to travel to my traditional corn beef and cabbage spot today, and that’s upsetting. My dad used to cook it best, RIP.
This St Patty’s Day, however, I currently hold the keys to a local 10X15 storage unit. I sought out bangs, and my first spray tan since 2019 a few days ago. (I needed ‘girl strength’ to help shift my belongings slowly.)
Luck of the Dutch, perhaps?
I was hoping for a private cam miracle this weekend, but the tan didn’t look as hot as intended…
The heart monitor(s) I was wearing two weeks ago in the E.R. left a scar on my skin from ripping it off too fast. The spray tan chemicals outlined it very weirdly. It almost looks like three invisible tattoos… A gentle reminder to keep fucking pushing, and that I’m stronger than I think!
…I made an intimate sex tape with C.J. while sporting tan lines 5/6 years ago. The only people that have seen it are two men that I used to know IRL, and when I tell you they became obsessed with me, that’s an understatement. I revoked G-Drive access during the pandemic, but to this day every few months I get email requests to restore link access…
I haven’t even watched that forbidden video between us in a few years, because it causes so much heartache knowing how real it was. The few seconds of arousal aren’t worth the hours of heartache and relapse in grieving, wondering if he’s forgotten me so easily.
But every now and then, I peep a Chaturbate guy who goes by ‘mst8neigh’ for audio sake. I just listen to his voice while he talks, and I log off before he get’s sexual. (I tip a small token tax for listening to his voice of course.)
He’s the only male model on Chaturbate that has a similar voice to C.J. I only listen to it for comfort every blue moon or so. He’s not my type at all, and he’s too young for me, he doesn’t turn me on at all. He just makes my heart feel lighter during moments of intense grief struggle.
Ariana Grande knows all too well the grief struggle.
She said “There’s no pot of gold in the rainbows we chase, but we hold on… hold on… yea.” – The Best Mistake 🍀
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