Once more with feeling, God's giving me PLENTY of chances to get these deals I get in with these ostensibly unavailable women right.  This latest encounter with the great monster that is these deals, in the form of that deal involving the famous woman I've never met, the famous woman I may be experiencing a kind of meta-hallucination about, just drives home this epiphany I had sometime in 2016 about these kinds of deals I get in with these kinds of women.

It's true, I did not always conduct myself in an exemplary manner in my younger days when faced with the kinds of no-win dilemmas involving these ostensibly unavailable women.  And so, like some figure in Greek mythology, I'm fated to field these unavailable women dilemmas up to this current day, a couple of months past my fifty-ninth birthday.  For all I know, God will just continue to throw up these kinds of women in my face until I die, get really infirm, or just get so old I lose interest in women all together.

It's not THAT ignominious a fate.  I feel good emotionally right now, and I'm pretty happy right now, now that I realize that this (probably) was-current/now-former dilemma involving this famous woman is just God fucking with me, again.  That's fine.  Like I said, realizing that makes me happy.

I want to emphasize; I ALMOST NEVER go on dates with, much less date, women such as this famous person.  And that's true even when I lump this famous woman in the same category as that former cashier.  Did I go out with that former cashier?  N-o-o-o!  They both belong in exactly the same category of women that God definitely seems to want me have EVERY POSSIBLE opportunity to get right.

I have EVERY reason to believe that I will, once more with feeling, face the same kinds of opportunities with future, ostensibly unavailable women once this particular unavailable woman is no longer a thing to me, which might have started happening yesterday, when this central epiphany hit me once more.  My expert handling of this most recent dilemma should encourage PLENTY more women to follow suit, just as my expert handling of those dilemmas flung at me by that former cashier may have encouraged that famous woman in the first place.

People talk about men in America and other countries being in crisis these days.  Right now, I don't feel as if I'm in a crisis over my relationship with women.  I don't feel lost.  Do I actually know how to actually pick up those hottie types?  No.  Is my morale sky high as of yesterday evening?  Absolutely!

As of yesterday evening, my path regarding that famous woman lies before me clearly and unobstructed.  God has shown me the way. No more crises of,  "What is going on?," "Why is this happening to me, again?," "What am I supposed to think about all of this?," or "What am I supposed to do about all of that?"  It's all in focus now.  I will do what God wants and get this person right, employing a pretty damn viable frame of reference that, in this case, probably just involves letting any ideas I have about getting with this woman just go by the wayside.   No grand gestures for this one, most likely, unlike that former cashier.  How can I, no access at all to this one. I'm too old to post a video on YouTube asking her to the prom. Yes, handling this affair in my usual exemplary manner will only encourage others, but if that's what the almighty wants, who am I to question such a will?

Here's page 8 in note card and thumbnail form.  That is, this is page 8 from part THREE of "Richy Vegas, the Serial Killer Hound."  "RichyVegas the Serial Killer Hound" will appear in issues 3,4,5, and 6 of Tales from the Richy Vegas Psychoverse. I will draw and write a second set of thumbnails from the first set, and then do the finished artwork on Bristol paper.  I will interrupt the production of this series after I complete the second set of thumbnails and turn my attention to illustrating issue 29 of Richy Vegas Comics.​

As per usual, I've put some more images from this issue behind a paywall on my Patreon page.  These three pages I've posted here try to convey a sense of how I felt and thought during a psychotic episode at my busboy job in late October of 1985.

I tried to convey how the din of the crowd in the busy restaurant that night amplified the chaos going on inside of me.

As is obvious to anyone who's read these blog posts of these past several months, my mind and  heart have assigned love interest status to that famous woman I've gone on and on about for that time.  Now, I will make it official.  If anyone wants to see what can happen when I consciously acknowledge that a woman is my love interest, they need look no further than how things shook out with that former cashier who, unfortunately, didn't seem to love me back.  I think I managed my end of it pretty well with that one, thank you, and I have every expectation that I will manage my situation regarding this famous woman at least nearly as well if not equally as well. I honestly think things stand in a non-adversarial place regarding that famous woman now, which puts her at least one up on that former cashier.

What compelled me to declare this status for this young woman has to do with the situation I find myself in now.  She's one of the busiest, most occupied people in the arts and entertainment industry right now, and seeing as how she's now my official love interest, I can imagine that my current situation could serve as a preview of coming attractions. I'm left to my own devices on the home front while she could be off on some tour or shooting some movie or some such shit as that.  Might as well make the best of it.  Officially declaring her my love interest will afford her the same courtesies and considerations I conferred on that former cashier.

If she fails to shake out as anything to me, well, the way I look at it now, it might just mean that SHE failed the very test she wanted to put ME through.  That would amount to a really fine development, would it not?   But, it wouldn't be the first time in history for me or anyone else that a love interest has come up short.  Can't be helped if that's the case, I suppose.

This sequence will give you the gist of how this story goes.  I posted the last ten pages or so of this issue behind the paywall on Patreon.  The Patreon link is on this website.

This sequence from issue 10 of Richy Vegas Comics illustrates one of the most formative incidents in my life in how I think about and relate to a lot of women I had and still have an attraction to.  I put the conclusion of this strory arc behind a paywall on my Patreon page.  

Last week I sent a postcard to that famous person's fan club address.  I had sent four previous cards to her old fan club address, but two got sent back as undeliverable/ unable to forward, and I caught wise to the concept of Google initially providing me with an out of date address.  I've pretty much decided to just send this one card to the current address and leave it at that.  I think there's a strong possibility that any more postcards to the current address would just prove that I really don't have any way of credibly approaching this famous person, because this person would never personally respond to such an entreaty no matter how many or how few postcards I sent.

I have a strong feeling that my effort to reach out to this person will just prove that she's the wrong person to reach out to for social purposes.  Whether this is a "lesson" the she, the real person in real life, wants to teach me, Richard Alexander, or if this is "the universe" trying to teach me this lesson, it doesn't matter.  I can make intelligent decisions about the wrong person all day.  In my mind, at least, this famous person could have seen my expert handling of that unrequited love situation involving me and that former cashier at that grocery store, and decided that she wanted whatever attention drug I doled out to the cashier with my approach towards the cashier.  Weird!  Welp, at fifty-nine, and since the age of about fifty, the wrong person and persons have been lining up outside my door in force.  When life gives you lemons, as they say.

Do the words I write constitute me shooting myself in the foot in regards to my chances with this famous person?  I think not.  I'm not a big believer in sympathetic magic in the sphere of romantic love.  Believing with all of my heart in someone or something won't make it so, and skeptical inquiry, respectfully and tactfully done, won't make it not so.  If this person ever wanted to actually be anything to me, she'd find a way, just as I tried to find a way with the postcards, and she'd be the first person I could find sympathy from with my tortured skepticism. At least that's the way I see it. 
 
If  the women in my world don't actually find a piece of their own struggles, past and/or present, in the words I just wrote, then I have  people all wrong in general, and women I find attractive all wrong in particular.  In other words, will I encounter blowback for expressing these sentiments?  I hope not, but I'm prepared to fight it out if I do.  I didn't sense that much moral support in regards to that former cashier, either.  That is, until I delivered whatever it was that so many attractive women in particular, and so many people in general, want some of in life.  I hope this famous person feels cared for and regarded well by me, no matter where she's coming from.  If this is all in my mind, well, I can make intelligent decisions in that kind of scenario as well.

I had a therapist appointment Friday, but the online therapist canceled the appointment a couple of minutes after it was scheduled to begin.  I booked another one, and I plan to go through with it.  I decided my goal for therapy is to keep going until I feel that this situation regarding this famous woman I've gone on and on about feels sufficiently resolved.  That's a tough call, because one often doesn't know whether these situations are over at many different points.  However, that's the goal I've decided to shoot for with this decision to see a therapist.

I feel pretty good about my positioning in regards to this famous person whom I've never met.  If my last post regarding her-the one where I mention Kinky Friedman- indicates a frame of mind TOO willing to let someone I care for slip through my fingers, then so be it.  I decided today that if the cost of living my personal life in a sustainable, viable manner means that romantic love eludes my grasp, then so be it.  I'm not going back to the old ways.

The old ways seem insane now.  Any given moment of my day to day existence saw me looking to connect with women, whether in my head or in the world.  This may not sound like much of a problem to some people, but for me, yeah.  The mindset reflected in my Kinky Friedman post has worked wonders for my health and well-being.  If, as I sometimes fear, this mindset does NOT work THIS ONE TIME in regards to this ONE (famous) PERSON (whom I've never met) to the point where my whole approach to these dilemmas becomes invalid and wrong, well, how was I to know that?  I'm only going by what has worked so well for me in the past.  And no, not working well in the sense that I've found true love everlasting, but rather, that I don't have those crash and burn episodes due to my ceaseless quest for love everlasting.  Nope, not going back to those old ways.

Here's the original cover art for the second issue of my new comic book.  The two stories, in original artwork form, reside behind the pay wall of my Patreon page.  One may link to my Patreon page via the link on the web site, www.richyvegas.com.  

In late December, 2018, I saw Kinky Friedman perform at Stubbs.  Before the show, he went out to the patio by himself to smoke a cigar. I walked up to him, shook his hand, and told him that my mom was friends with his dad.  I talked to him a little about that, told him it was an honor to meet him, said I'd been a fan, but that I'd never seen him perform, and I ended it with a finger wave and a, "Break a leg, buddy!," and walked off.  After I said, "Break a leg, buddy!," he lit up into a big smile and said, "Thank you!"

When I had my long, extended bout with psychosis in 1995, I had a "recovered memory" hallucination that featured Kinky.  In 1999, I drew up a comic book that illustrated the gist of this hallucination, and sent a copy to his dad with a request to pass it along to Kinky.  I enclosed a note to Kinky explaining to him the nature of the story in the book, and how it came about.  Kinky's dad called me to tell me that he got the book, and that he would pass it along to Kinky, but I never heard back from Kinky about the book.

So, I decided to not bother Kinky about the book when I went to see him at Stubbs.  I don't know if he made a connection to me, and that's why he smiled so brightly when I displayed a willingness to let it all go, or if he just thought my showbiz version of "good luck" was really cool, or that I displayed an overall willingness to not bother him in general.  Whatever.

I've decided to extend the same courtesy to that famous woman I've written about these past several months and not bother with her anymore.  I sent one postcard to her CURRENT fan mail address, sent her one "break a leg" message on one of her social media accounts, and now I just want to leave it at that.

Yeah, there's always a "reason" to extend these deals with these unavailable women beyond, sometimes way beyond, an appropriate stopping point.  In high school, it was because this girl flashed me her titty when she talked to me, I went on some dates with her the following summer, and she was one of the first girls I'd ever kissed.  We didn't even kiss passionately, but more as a goodnight kiss.  Whatever I've mentioned about this famous woman in these past several months, plus whatever I've kept to myself, seems to fall under the same category of  "much ado about nothing."

I shouldn't get any blowback from people, especially women, in my world for this declaration of my decision, and for this description of my current mental state regarding this woman.  First off, define "blowback."  Since I can't read minds, what I might consider blowback might just reside in the eye of the beholder.  What if I could read minds, and I did indeed get some blowback for my decision to let go of an "A" list celebrity I've never even met?  What then?  Really? Blowback for that?  Yeesh!