Time to put on my big boy pants

This isn't an idle threat. I deleted my post from this morning, because I've decided to treat this issue like an adult. As an adult, actions have consequences. Thanks to my returning to my employer in September, I have the benefit of free legal services. Sooo, since a person's blog has effectively defamed my character (not mentioning me by name doesn't diminish the very real expectation she was talking about me). Any judge will agree with me about this. If the blog post defaming me isn't deleted by tomorrow night at midnight, I will be speaking to an attorney Monday morning.

Toxic

So, it's been six months since I posted. Life happened, job, school, changes. I'm pretty much completely out of the loop, and yet still I find myself on the lips or in the blogs of others (and not in a positive fashion). Face it, I can be a little emo bastard. Too much time on my hands and/or too much alcohol equals an unhappy Boyd. Then, again, I've been working too hard of late to have to worry about such things. There are people in this world who are super-talented at formulating Class A Drama. They'll take a little nugget of truth and spin it into an outrageous campaign of lies and character assassination. Congrats, young lady, you've found your true calling in life. Where to start? You trashed a good friend of mine, spread the rumors about him yourself and now you lie about your duplicity. Wow, you've even managed to worm your way back into his heart. You trash a scene that pretty much put you and others on the proverbial map. You trashed me, saying how I want to "fuck" the models I work with. Dear, I was emo long before I became a photographer. In five years of shooting, I have never once asked a model to date me, have sex with me or anything of the sort. Why do you think I can shoot with pretty much whomever I want? I've been doing this a bit longer than you and will be creating long after people tire of your miserable, toxic ass. You talk about rumors when you're the one who damn well makes sure they have a long shelf life. When a group of folks cleaning out a room stumble upon something very damaging to someone, there's a strong possibility that someone or a few might say something, particularly out of concern for that someone they love (she's got more talent in her pinkie than you have in your whole body). We all love her and care about her so STFU. What we really don't like is someone like you poisoning friendships and relationships that were built well before you became the stain that you are. You, frankly, are an emotional terrorist. You wreak your damage without a care in the world. End yourself. Seriously.

I wish

that everything I do didn't seem to be an annoyance these days. I feel like I get on so many folks' nerves, and that the only reason they don't come out and say it is they don't want to be mean. When you're 42 years old, you're not supposed to be needy. Job. Love life. A sense of accomplishment. All these things are supposed to happen in your twenties. I am where I'm at in this point of my life because I fucked things up. I can't wish myself out of this predicament. I have to show some patience and do the things that will make my life a little more fulfilling increment by increment. The road through is bumpy. My rough journey scares some folks away and disgusts others. I feel quite often that some younger folks I know almost feel as if I don't deserve to live. TMI on Boyd. How dare he make me feel uncomfortable by existing. The best revenge is success fuckers.

I'm trying to forgive . .

. . but she has not once made the effort to make peace with me. She tells all about her scars, fears and failings, but for me to do the same is somehow abhorrent to her. She's beneath my contempt because of this.

More Dani!

Ahhh, a new model!

She's a keeper! Dani made me blush sooo much.

PXE

Katie is the newest resident here at the CAC, super talented and just a joy to be around!