The thing is, people really do narcissistically attack Lacey. She’s not just a narcissist making that up. And that’s why she wants distance from people. …Hopefully real people, so to speak, will come along someday.

And if her former crush reads this blog…he should know that she’s rather suspicious of him. He seems narcissistic to her at this point. …But he might not be and she might have just misunderstood. *sad face* Hopefully that’s it…

The thing is…he basically barely showed interest. Enough to seem beguiling but not enough to seem safe to take seriously. And his bizarrely frequent “I don’t have a girlfriend” comments were…not encouraging, obviously. And he seemed cold, dismissive and businesslike of her as a person in conversation eventually…if not always to some degree. It wasn’t a real, clear rejection…because there was some encouragement…but…he was rather chilly. *shrug*

And so she writes about ghosts. And did. And if he believes and believed them to be real…he should have somehow communicated that, given his position. But also, Lacey moved on because he didn’t seem all that interested. She wasn’t sure but objectively he seemed lukewarm at best and that was a very unattractive thing, obviously.

Why was that so unattractive? Because she married a man who was always interested in dates (real ones), seemed very attracted to her but who was ultimately emotionally very hurtful. And at 38 she has no time or energy left for lukewarm men. She’s wasted years of her life she can’t get back at this point. And no one offers any sympathy or empathy.

No one.

No kindness of humanity is offered her not because she’s toxic. * laugh* But because he’s rich, handsome, brilliant, well-bred enough and a genuinely good enough person that most people hate her for being married to him and the most they can offer her is indifference through their selfish, seething, vile envy. She’s too beautiful, too smart and too well-bred to be loved by people not like her nowadays. The poor and middle-class are viciously hateful of the rich. They want to hold them accountable for everyone’s sin. Including her.

So all the normal, decent, loving human empathy extended to women (and men) in a failed marriage that was hurtful isn’t offered. She’s too white, straight and otherwise privileged to be considered human by the masses.

The masses? Yes. The people of lower classes who have loved to pretend she’s a poor, white-trash idiot to feel better about themselves. The people who have isolated her from themselves.

And where will she end up? Richer. More upper-class. More cloistered with other rich people. People who rule the world.

Because the people who still act responsibly are either growing tired of being mean to her and her kind…or they’re in the upper-class themselves. Maybe not as rich as the Obamas…but well-off enough to feel…cold to the poor and middle-class in their growing hatred.

“What?!” says a hater.

“Yeah, I know.” I say.

“But I went to Cambridge and now work for a prestigious old journal!” the hater says. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, your writing is crap and I’m superior to you!” *scoff*

“Did you grow-up poor or rich? And how much do you earn as a salary now?” Lacey responds.

*humph!* “I grew-up…in a Southern family. Just…like…yours!” *humph*

“So you grew-up poor? And your lineage is nothing like mine?”

*scoff* but a nod of the head to indicate yes.

“You’re a terrible person! You should have your head chopped off!”

“Shouldn’t everyone who you’ve known since going to Cambridge including you? Shouldn’t your supposedly elite family?!”

“But, but, but-“

“But nothing!” Lacey grows enraged. “You can’t pretend to be upper-class so toxically and then turn around and want to torture and kill them too.”

“Oh yes I can! I’m an elite intellectual! I’m a first-rate, grand woman of the world! You’re a rich, old-money, snob…but you’re secretly in the lower class for not being-“

“For not being what?!”


“For not going to Cambridge!”

“The school I went to is better.”

*almost faints*

“How can you say such a thing!?!?”

“Because intellectually it’s true far more pure and true. It’s just not a brand name school bourgeois, idiotic, pretentious fools who want to feel superior go to like you.”

“You think I’m the pretentious fool! Me?! Im prettier than you! See! See! I just posted photos of myself at my apartment pool with my Kate Spade bag to prove I’m your equal!”

“You’re far from prettier than me!”

“Well, I have the same bag as you!” *humph*

“That’s my cheapest bag. I bought that bag ti seem poorer than I am but still look nice.”

“You did not!”

“No, I did.”

“Do I know you?”


“Golly…I’m feeling suicidal all of the sudden.”

“Well, that’s terrible!”

“I’ll never be impressive! I’ll never be old-money! I’ll never be like you! I’ll never be upper-class! I’ll never be better than people. And that’s all I was secretly ever living for. That’s what the smart atheists said mattered. And I’m not an atheist…but it’s what a shrewd, progressive woman must do! We must become elite!!!”

“By working?”

“Yes! By working for money! And working for power! And working for…”


“Value…as a human being.”

“So if you’re not working you don’t matter?”

“No! Being rich and powerful is what counts!”

“You sound like my ex step-mother-in-law who grew-up on a farm, went to a low status state school, worked selling baby wipes and then decided she was elite when her husband made a lot of money.”

“Did she hate you?”

“She loathed me. She narcissistically attacked me and accused me of coming from a con-artist family of gold-diggers. My family is elite. They are what she pretends to be. My grandparents were what my former father-in-law pretended his parents were. He stupidly snubbed my very wealthy, old-money, far more white and genuinely powerful family to seem elite. He has a cousin who teaches at Harvard…but considering there are equally elite professors in my family who have accomplished a lot professionally and graduates of Harvard…it makes no sense. …He’s a Midwestern, Jewish, backward bourgeois snob. …And I love the family’s faith and heritage. But a lot of Jews have no idea who’s who in terms of social status because if their otherness in society. They aren’t fully accepted. …And so they can’t tell fools gold from real gold in non-Jewish white people. I was very insulted for no good reason. …It was toxic and gross. And they should be thankful I’m not anti-Semitic.”

“So he’s Jewish?!”


“Well…I might be anti-Semitic.”

“I’m supposed to be dressed like Little Miss Piggy like my ex step-mother-in-law and be too dumb to know how to talk to you at all.”

“She was white?!”

“She was from a relatively recent German origin family probably. Maybe a little Eastern European?” *Lacey scoffs* “She was very white trash trying to be rich. And I was genuinely open-minded about it. I didn’t judge people like her in the past. But she started twisting all her flaws onto me and then everyone hated me.”



“Do you think I’m like…her?!”



“You shouldn’t be so mean and presume so much of people though. Like Jews.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t. But I’m sadly not surprised by your former father-in-laws behavior. Just because he makes $500,000 a year and went to two upper-class schools doesn’t make him…a good man.”

“You know Judaism taught my ex-husband a lot about being honorable though.”

“Well, that’s good. …I don’t hate men like your ex father-in-law. I just don’t think he’s a wise person. I think he’s exactly what you say he is. A snobby, blind, bourgeois hick.” *she sighs* “It’s people like him who pretend to be old-money but are actually very new money with pretensions at best who-“

“But I have old-money credentials. He doesn’t.”

“Everyone does! Everyone has rich family from before the Civil War who came over in the Mayflower. Everyone has rich dead fathers who ran the world! Everyone has family with hundreds of millions in oil. Who…are renowned and own wealthy businesses. Everyone is in the Electoral College or has been. Why beggars off the street if you just looked hard enough are connected to that dirt of thing or something far more important and impressive. Everyone looks like you, has your gifts and intelligence and…and…and…if I really wanted to I could fuck hot ghosts too.” *sigh* “You’re an average nobody.”

“Then why doesn’t my wealthy ex father-in-law have those old-money credentials?”

“Because he’s Jewish!”

“What about Harold Loeb?”

“Harold Loeb was Robert Cohn. He was from a wealthy Jewish family…but he was still Jewish.”

“But…they were old money even in Europe on his father’s side.”

“That’s not true. I’m sure he wrote that to sound important! That’s all. It was just a way to compete with Ernest Hemingway.”

“No, I think his Loeb family really was elite.”

“I’m not sure where you got that from, but if wrote that himself it was a lie.”

“I highly doubt that!”

“Well, you’re a Miss Piggy too! And I’m a white imperial goddess!”

…”Aren’t you supposed to be a liberal, elite snob?”

“I’m a secret Trump fan. I love his hatred. It soothes me. It makes me feel better.”


“Say…are you Catholic?!” she says.

“Sort of. I’m kind of Episcopalian too.”

“Catholic is barely not Catholic. It’s demonically inspired!”

“My beloved! My beloved! Jesus is calling you to his heart!” yells a charismatic.

“Oh! Oh! I love these uneducated fools. They’re so stupid and religious and yet loving.” *happy sigh*

“He says…come to me!”

“Wait! Why is Jesus your lover?” asks Lacey.


“Do your thing, bitch!” says a liberal Jewish lesbian to be kind.

“She’s trying to fuck Jesus!”

“I don’t care.” says the liberal Jewish elitist.

“But she’s possibly screwing an entity!”

“I doubt that! I’m sorry but I’m a rational person.”

“Did you grow-up in the upper middle-class?” asks Lacey of the liberal woman.

The woman looks deeply uncomfortable. “Yes.”

“You have unending, foolish sympathy for her pretensions to being old-money elite. Because you too have pretensions.”

“Mm! She’s so small and tasty!” says the hater.

“I can’t eat her. I’m Jewish.”

*the hater giggles flirtatiously*

“My beloved!” says the charismatic.

“Is that me you’re talking to?” asks the Jewish woman.

“We should all eat her together.” says the hater.

“Eating people?!” asks the charismatic.

“Yes! To absorb her anointing!” says the hater.

“I’m just a lesbian! I don’t eat women in that way.” says the Jew.

“Well! We’re going to!” says the hater.

“Say, isn’t that what Jews do? Eat people? Or no, they drink their blood.” says the charismatic.

“Why not get her drunk, behind the wheel of a car and then let her kill herself.” says the hater.

“That’s dangerous!” says the charismatic.

“Say! Where did our Jewish friend go?” asks the hater.

“Hey!! Dipshit get in the car! Here’s some cheap whisky like you like it. I’ll be drinking gin I found in your house I just broke into. Because I know you bought that for me. Because I’m elite!” says the strangely already drunk hater.

“Dude! Dude! Dude! You’re like Robin Hood.” says the Charismatic. “Sweet!”

“See! We’re friends. And she doesn’t have friends because she can’t hack it like us!” says the hater.

“Say, what did you get drunk on?” asks the charismatic. They burp.

“Rose! That’s all I drink.”

“Hmm. See, I had a friend offer me pills the other day. But I can’t afford addiction.” says the charismatic.

“Are you two really poor?” asks Lacey carefully.

They look at her coldly. Ice cold.

Their stomaches growl. The Jewish woman suddenly reemerges.

“See! See! This is why I hate you! They’re clearly poor. And you’re too upper-class and privileged to understand their suffering. You should try relating to them. Like I do. Get into the present and stop living in the white 1950’s.” she says.

“Umm. I feel like these people are just demon possessed.” says a wealthy Satanist. “Right?” she says to Lacey.

“Oh! Oh! I get it! This is an elite conspiracy!” says the hater to Lacey.

“No! This is what I worried they say!” says the lesbian.

“They aren’t demon possessed. They’re elite like me!” says a poor, white Episcopalian.

“Say! Where’d you go to college?” asks the Cambridge educated hater to the Episcopalian.

“I went to a state school.” he says condescendingly.

“Why is that a big deal?” asks the hater.

“Because Lacey’s mother who raised her went to a state school. It has to do with lineage and pride in your community.”

“I think she went there because she was dirt poor!” says the hater.

“Yeah! But did your father give you a car and a bank account? Or did your father go to Julliard? Or have a wealthy family before the Civil War? Did they help plan the Lincoln assassination…if Lacey can talk to ghosts?”

“My father bought me a car and I went to Cambridge.” says the hater.

“Say! Are you hungry?”

“Mm. No. I’m fine.”

“Really?! Because I was just about to go eat myself.”

Lacey can sense animosity growing towards her none-the-less. She looks at the Satanist.

“Hey! Thanks!” Lacey says to the Satanist.

“Sure!” says the Satanist in both indifference and surprise.

“Well, I don’t know what they’re going to go do. But I think we should go eat.” laughs the Episcopalian.

“I hate Jews! I hate them. I’m sorry but I hate Jews!” she lunges at Lacey with a knife.

“I’m not Jewish!” yells Lacey as she runs away.

The charismatic stands watching silently. Stupefied. Or seemingly stupefied.

“I command you all to release us! Instantly!” says the Satanist.

And Lacey is saved within an inch of her life.

“Okay! That’s demonic!” says the charismatic. A charismatic prostitute comes on to him out of nowhere and commands him to kill her.

“She’s a demonic whore!” she whispers in his ear, unzipping his pants.

“What about Jesus?!” asks the drunk hater half seriously.

“What about lunch?!” asks the Episcopalian.

“Spirit of Jezebel cease!” says that Satanist.

“This isn’t what’s happening! I’m innocent!” says the charismatic.

“Now Jezebel! Leave!” says the Satanist. “

“I’m better than you!” yells the hater.

The Satanist looks unamused.

“Okay fine.” says the hater.

“Be gonfrom me in the name of Jesus!” says Lacey.

And at that the charismatic runs off. The hater passes out. And the lesbian and the Satanist look mildly disturbed but resigned.

The charismatic prostitute seethes like a rabid animsl, but doubly commanded to retreat she walks off for the time being.

“I’m hungry. And you’re insane!” the American Episcopalian yells at Lacey.

“I’m hungry too. And I almost died.” says Lacey.

“Whatever!” scoffs the Episcopalian. He pulls the fainted hater into a car to be brought to a hospital.

“You should go eat too!” says the Satanist to Lacey.

“And drink some coffee.” says the Jew.

Lacey wonders how a Satanist and a Jew who hates her are her only allies in survival as a Christian. A born-again Christian.

“Because you sinned three times!” yells the charismatic in the distance. “Three whole times! You whorish, backslidden loser!”

“Hey, wanna hook-up!!?” the prostitute chases him. He shrugs in sadness.

“Aww! How sad. He is troubled.” says a ghost audibly. Or is it a demon?

“I’m a ghost.” Lem manifests into a full bodied apparition and watches as the charismatic runs off with the prostitute chasing him. It’s heartbreaking.

“Say! Let’s go shopping!” says Zelda.

Lacey prays for the Jew and the Satanist. But they’ve left.

“You know, wearing that expensive perfume attracts demons. Especially Chanel.” says another hater.

Lem snaps his fingers and the hater faints. Zelda snaps her fingers and the hater is pulled away to the same car the other hater is laying in. Then the Episcopalian drives the two ladies to an emergency room eating his roast beef sandwich with ived Kool-Aid. He seems to feel that he’s just going about his business as usual.

Just the usual.

Chanel Rouge Noir

I don’t think I’ve ever found a more perfect nail color for my skin color and personal aesthetic than Chanel Rouge Noir.

And that’s all about that.

Today I realized three things.

1. Truly beautiful, hot Millennial women got thrown under the bus culturally.

Men were taught to treat us like a piece of crud. …Not to lose our interest though. To keep it.

Millennial men were mostly raised to be deeply insecure. They were supposed to be workers for the older generation to make money off of…but not to pose a cultural challenge. They were collectively brainwashed into hating their masculinity. And into thinking beautiful, feminine women were and are all dumb, selfish and evil.

They don’t know how to love well. And less attractive women became sub-textually matronly and utilitarian.

I think my generation was castrated.

“What?!” asks an offended Boomer.

“We liberated you!” they add.

“You over-sexualized us. And demoralized us.” I reply. “I’m sorry if you meant well at all.”

2. People miss my sarcasm. Or they assume I’m being sarcastic when I’m not. …And on a certain level I create that semi-intentionally. I like distance from most people…at least at this point in my life.

“You know what! You’re…a horrible person!” says a new hater.

“Why do you think he’d say that?” asks Michael.

“Because he’s struggling and if he reads this blog he has no idea how to process what he reads.” Lacey surmises. “Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s smarter than most people, I think. But he seems very hateful towards me on a personal level and I’m not sure why.”

“He’s never really said that much to you.” says Michael.


“So why does he seem hateful?”

“It’s just a sense I get. And I could be wrong. But I think he…somehow wants my affection but yet…doesn’t want to make it clear that he’s interested in any real way. He had done some very mild flirting. But nothing…clear.”

“And so you let go.”

“Well, I still follow him. He’s very fun and helpful to follow.“ She thinks. “But…sometimes I get the horrible gut sense he’s offended I’m not pursuing him anymore.”

“Or he still assumes you are obsessed with him. Even though you never really were.”

“It’s just a weird sense I get. …And say, why do people always make these sort of wild assumptions?!”

“Because they don’t get you. And to them you being just genuinely interested looks like obsession. Not because there’s something wrong with you. Because you…are clear. And they can’t fathom anyone being that complicated.”


“Both truly caring…and yet remaining distant. Both genuinely so. They want to make you simpler. And you’re just not.”


“You’re cool…and frighteningly calm. Always. But it’s not lack of concern. It’s the opposite. And they want to control you. And really, very few people could. You control everyone else. And they hate that.”

“I love the British though. I feel normal around them.”

“You trust them more.”

“I feel like the most genuinely loving part of my mother who raised me was somehow still British. And if I’m illegitimate my father was British, so to speak. My last name was English in origin.”

“They’ll think you’re an alien or a reptile if they start to believe I’m real.”

“And yet if you’re a ghost you control me. You all could.” says Lacey.

“And they hate that.” Michael says. “Because it hints at God’s existence.”

“I don’t hate people. I just want them to be happy. And since they’ve been profoundly unloving, leave me alone.”

“The fact that they assumed the worst of your pleasantries is proof. You’re right. They’re too far gone to get it.”

“No, I just assumed the best. And that’s what they tell you to do.”

“And it didn’t work.”

“Everyone loves everyone!” shrieks Lacey in imitation of a Boomer.

“Of course, it’s not good to hate people. But yes. It’s…absurd.”


“Hey! Why do you let me boss you around? It’s like you’re an old housewife from the 1950’s. Like…so…weirdly submissive.”

“Oh! Well…I’m the exception to the rule. Given that evolution doesn’t exist from generation to generation… So it’s not like my genes affected me. I mean, I don’t feel oppressed at all because I’m a sick anomaly.”

“The women of my generation were tough broads with lots of spunk and sass. They were divas. Absolute queens! Total badasses. Nags! Absolutely clingy, needy, aggressive, take-charge type of dames. I didn’t date them because I felt too much like them and couldn’t understand the appeal.” says Lem.

“You just needed to get them to submit!” says Michael.

“No. You needed to voraciously pursue them. For a while. Or they’d instinctively find you boring.”

“And Lacey is like that. That’s why she asks men out. She actually…is losing interest. And before it leaves her forever she wants to try to give the guy one last chance just in case he noticed her.” says Michael.

“She gets over men like some people waste money.” says Lem.

“Why do you get over men so quickly if they don’t seem interested?” asks Elliott.

“Because it’s polite and thoughtful and I have a healthy self-esteem.”

“You sound black sometimes, Lacey.” says hater.

“How is that an insult?” asks Lacey.

“Because! You’re white.” says the hater condescendingly. “You’re an old, racist bitch hausfrau!”

“Hmm. I wonder why an upper-class elite woman who may be talking to ghosts sounds black? Isn’t that really actually quite scary?” asks Louis.

“Do we sound black too?” asks Lem.

“Do I sound black?” asks Bobby.

“I mean. Yeah?” answers the hater.

“Hey! If I had as many kids as you I’d rather be dead too!” says Lem to Bobby in literal imitation of Lacey’s hater.

“What if God doesn’t want that?” asks Louis.


“Yeah. I agree.” says Lacey.

“I’m not the Son of God. I’m not a deity. I’m just a dead man.” says Michael.

“Have you had to have this conversation with people before?” asks Louis.

“I’m not answering that right now.”

3. I need to spend more time with my kids.