Hi, everyone. I miss you. I miss blogging and reading other blogs like I used to. I would like to say that I will be blogging more, but I don't know if I will. You see, my day usually goes like this:
5am (sometimes) -- get up and go for a run or hit the gym. Ok, full disclosure.....lately, it's been like, twice a month. Usually I sleep in until....
6:30am -- wake up at boyf's, walk and feed dog. Eat breakfast, then go to my house to get ready for work.
9am -- go to work. Yes, it takes me that long to get ready. There is significant dawdling. Unfortunately, I am already supposed to be at work at this time.....
9:20 -- actually arrive at work. I am lucky to have a boss that doesn't care I do this every day. Mostly because she spends the vast majority of her day on the phone, arguing with her lawyer or yelling at her soon-to-be-ex-husband. Or dealing with some other personal life fiasco. I detest my job. My boss is a big part of it. Don't get me wrong, she's a really nice, funny, cool person. I would totally go on vacation with her. I just hate working for her. I should really write a post about work...I have venting that needs to be done.
5:20 -- time to go home. Yes, I make up all the time because I was raised Catholic and if I don't work exactly 40 hours/week, I will go to Hell. If you're not Catholic in any way, you will never understand this.
5:40 -- get home, walk dog, put on comfy clothes (bye-bye, bra!). Boyfriend calls me to have our daily debate: will I make dinner at my house or will I make dinner at his house or will we go out to dinner. I hardly ever make dinner at my house, despite the fact that I much MUCH prefer cooking at my place (he doesn't have a vegetable peeler....or many other things you need to cook with. Which is fine, because he's a bachelor. But lugging my kitchen stuff over to his house all the time gets old sometimes.) He usually wins the debate. Which is fairly logical, because, as he points out, I always spend the night over at his house anyway. (He has a queen-size bed. Nuff said.)
Sometime in the evening -- I get to his house. We usually watch Jeopardy while eating dinner. Then we watch more tv until I fall asleep at 10pm. He is a freak who needs 5 hours of sleep every night, so he stays up.
If you review the list above, you will notice a lack of the following lifestyle activities: exercise, hanging out with girlfriends, blogging, puttering around my own house and doing things that do not involve a screen -- TV or otherwise. Unless we are at work or a doctor's appointment, we are probably together.
...and that is why I have put on 15 pounds. And why my house is a mess. And why I haven't paid my taxes yet. Or done any number of me-time things. Like blog. Or buy some new iTunes. The only reason I am doing this today is because I took the day off.
If you're anything like me, right now you are screaming at your computer, saying, "Dude! What are you doing? You have morphed into a 'we' and have forgotten the 'me'! This is not healthy for you or your relationship! Carve out some me time -- STAT!"
And you'd be right. But trust me, it's easier said than done. Mostly because he is my most favoritest person EVER in the whole world and I never get sick of hanging out with him. When I do have "VB time", I spend a lot of it wishing he was with me -- I just wish he was in the other room so I can get some stuff done.
Now, before you all begin gagging yourselves with spoons, I can tell you that we do argue. We have some things we will never agree on, like the fact that I would like his home to be free of cats and he would like it if I would be better about taking my dirty dishes to the kitchen. (I am notorious for leaving them on the coffee table.) But there is no one I'd rather argue with. Does that make sense?
I recently read an article where the author interviewed several couples. Each couple has been married for eons, and the author was trying to crack the case: what is the secret to a long marriage? Typically, the answer was never defined in this piece (article FAIL), but one part did stick out to me:
Author, addressing ancient husband: Did you ever have moments where you didn't want to be with her?
Ancient husband: Not be with her? What? No. Never. But did I ever want to kill her? YES. Many times.
And I totally understood.
So yes, it is going splendidly. We agree that this is what we've both been looking for all these years and we can't believe we dated all those other people who were so wrong for us. We talk about the future all the time. He gets upset if I speak of my future in a way that implies I'd be doing it as a single woman. We have named our children. Well, ok, we have named the first one. If it's a girl. I have started to realize that my future doesn't make sense if he's not in it. To quote The Princess Bride, it's inconceivable. Even The Czarina and MJ are asking me "So..............are you engaged yet????"
I have to reassure them that RingWatch 2013 is still on. But knowing him, he has stuff planned and up his sleeves, and I am totally clueless. Who knows. Part of me is screaming, "I AM 34!!!! LET'S GET A MOVE ON!!!" but and equal part of me is just happy I found him and I'm enjoying the ride. Ok, that's a lie. It's more like 80/20, respectively. My ovaries are shriveling, people. This ratio may grow even more lopsided if personal milestones continue to pass by without any bended knees taking place. New Year's? Nope. Valentine's Day? Earrings instead. (Which I adore, for the record.) Birthday? Well, at this point, he's 48 hours late....so I'm not holding my breath. Some of you are doing the math and wish to point out that we've only been dating for 9 months. To that, I say, shut the hell up because you're probably a smug married with a baby on your knee. When you know, you know. May 23rd will be one year, so perhaps then???
I have come to realize that good relationships are just as difficult to manage and understand as bad ones. With other guys (read: most of the jerks I dated), I was so wrapped up with "Does he really love me? Is he interested in committing?" Most of my mental energy was wrapped up in determining if he liked me. Now, most of my mental energy is split between 1) doing what I need to do to make this relationship a priority in my life and keep him happy and 2) figuring out how to fit him into my life without losing myself in the process. So it's a juggling game. I'm trying to navigate it. If you sagacious smug marrieds have any advice on how to do this, please impart your wisdom. I wish I could say I feel smothered...........but I don't. This is making it difficult.
In a deliciously serendipitous finale to this post, he and I just called each other at the exact. same. moment. We are ridiculous.
Showing posts with label I am going to Hell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I am going to Hell. Show all posts
Friday, March 01, 2013
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Getting Maui-d
Did I tell you my brother, Fat Dog, popped the question to his long-time girlfriend? Yup. On top of the Hoover Dam. He's an engineer, so I'm sure to him, this was a very romantic spot. He lucked out, because she said yes. We all adore her and so we are all very happy and excited.
For months, the happy couple has been trying to get the basics of their wedding plans established. Get married in Virginia Beach, where they both live? Get married in my hometown, which is super cheap? Get married this year or next year? They have been very indecisive. I'm sure The Czarina, starving for grandchildren, didn't help matters. She must have really ramped up the pressure when we all found out that the fiance is not 2 years older than him, like we had all thought, but TEN. (We never asked how old she was -- she looks fantastic for her age!)
Yesterday, Fat Dog called me to announce they have decided to have a destination wedding in 4 months. In Maui.
Most people would shout, "Hooray! Maui, here we come!" But there are some difficulties with this plan. In no particular order:
1. The Czarina does not fly. Period.
2. The Czarina, who is chipping in some money towards the wedding, is also paying for Smurf's college tuition right now. So she doesn't exactly have buckets of money laying around.
3. Based on my calculations, it will cost me something like $2,000 to attend this wedding. That will wipe out my savings, eat up the bonus I am going to get....I can go, but it will hurt. A lot.
4. My other two brothers live paycheck to paycheck, so they won't be able to go.
5. Smurf will be in the middle of Fall semester of her sophomore year, so she may not be able to go. Also, The Czarina would have to pay for her to go, too.
6. Banana, my older sister, is currently vacationing in Morocco, so she probably won't have any money left when she gets back.
"So, out of all the people you have called so far, how many said they can go?" I asked him.
"Um, none, actually," he replied.
"Are you prepared to have no guests at your wedding?" I asked.
Silence on his end. I wonder if he realizes that this may mean he gets few wedding gifts, but decide to keep that thought to myself.
"Look," he said, "this is what we are doing. We hope you guys can make it, cuz we would really like you to be there."
*sigh*
This particular sibling of mine is unique in our family in so many ways: he's good at math, he got Grandma's weird feet, he is stubborn to the point of absurdity and he has champagne tastes -- only the best for Fat Dog!
I can just about guess what happened. Fat Dog got sick of all the indecision, ran out of patience and decided that this is what they are doing, no matter the cost, logistics or inconvenience. I know how he operates. I'm sure his fiance is trying to get him to slow down and think about this some, and he is having none of it. (I wish I could say he is the only one in the family who is impatient, but unfortunately, yours truly has the patience of a toddler.)
The part that irritates me the most? His argument that this is cheaper than getting married in our hometown! "You can't get married for less than $10,000. You just can't," he said. Um, I am pretty sure you can. I actually just attended a wedding a few weeks ago that was very small, very fun and very inexpensive. But you see, Fat Dog has a tendency to require only the BEST in everything. Don't get me wrong, it's great to have standards, but a touch of reality is good, too. See, he knows he can get married for less than $10k. He just doesn't want to, because it won't be all fancy and impressive. If he can't have a Top Shelf wedding, he will just basically not have one at all -- which is pretty much what this is. It's just a glorified elopement. But since it's an elopement in Maui, it will still impress.
"So let me get this straight. You guys live at one beach, but you're going to fly aaaaall the way across the country to get married at another beach?" I asked.
"It's Maui," he replied. Touche.
"And how is this cheaper than getting married in our hometown?" I asked.
He was getting frustrated with me now. "Gah! Look, the only weekend we could get married in Farmville is at the end of May, and that's when the Heart of Virginia Festival is happening."
(Trying to get married in our hometown during Heart of Virginia would be daunting, I will agree. It's pretty much the busiest weekend of the year for our 3 little hotels in Farmville.)
"The Heart of Virginia Festival is in May. You just said this would be in September," I pointed out.
"We don't even live there!" he replied.
"Nor do you live in Maui," I observed.
Silence. Touche, brother dear! This was kinda fun! I was enjoying poking holes in all his arguments. I am such a mean older sister, aren't I? But this is what he gets for having such a selfish wedding plan, after we were all looking forward to this wedding.
"So why do you think it will save you money to do it this way?" I continued.
"Because if we get married in Virginia Beach or in Farmville, we will have to invite all these people. You know how it goes -- if you invite this person, then you have to invite that person, too. Soon, your guest list is out of control. We are just inviting family. No one else," he explained.
"Yeah, I know that can happen easily with guest lists," I admitted. That's why you cap it off, make some tough decisions and deal with it, I thought. I imagined the unruly guest list like an untamed Mustang, bucking my brother off its back. How absurd. Who is in charge here, you or your guest list? I thought.
I almost pointed out to him that if you don't have any guests at your wedding, you also don't have any wedding gifts. Wonder if Mr. Top Shelf has realized this.
"Can't you just get married in Farmville or Virginia Beach and then have your honeymoon in Maui?" I pleaded.
"No, cuz that will cost even more money!" he said.
He also argued that they are saving up for a big house, since they are planning to have kids. Is it just me, or should you have the kids first before doing that?? He owns a 2 bedroom condo already. I love that taking a trip to Maui is part of the plan to save money for this house. Is he serious? I can hear Dave Ramsey screaming now.
I got off the phone with him and called The Czarina.
"Are you upset about all of this?" I asked her.
My mother, in true emotionally-repressed, German-American fashion, replied, "I'm not upset. I'm just not going."
Oh boy. She was super pissed. I wondered if she hung up on him, but decided it would be best not to ask.
Upon discovering that she and I both thought he was crazy, and for the same reasons, she told me I shouldn't have said all the stuff I said. (I was supposed to repress it all, like she did!) She made me call him back and apologize. So I did. She was right -- it's his wedding. We should be supportive. We need to be happy that we love his fiance so much.
I'm trying to have a better attitude about this, but I am still kinda pissed. I think he's being really selfish and shallow. Just because he can't have a big Hollywood wedding (like he surely feels he deserves) he will just not have one at all. He's making the wedding all about him, when I think it should involve our families, too. (Maybe I am just crazy, but I thought I was welcoming a new member into our family!) After all, out of the last 4 times my entire family has gotten together, 3 of those times were for funerals. I was kind of looking forward to getting together with my family for a happy occasion for once.
The Czarina thinks they will still change their minds and I shouldn't get too upset. She will probably try and talk some sense into him after she calms down a little. (She would never admit it, but I'm pretty sure she is furious.)
I almost just wish they had run off to Vegas or City Hall and just not told anyone. Then we wouldn't all have to decide if we want to spend all this money -- it would already be a done deal.
I love my brother, but he sure can be a pain in the neck.
For months, the happy couple has been trying to get the basics of their wedding plans established. Get married in Virginia Beach, where they both live? Get married in my hometown, which is super cheap? Get married this year or next year? They have been very indecisive. I'm sure The Czarina, starving for grandchildren, didn't help matters. She must have really ramped up the pressure when we all found out that the fiance is not 2 years older than him, like we had all thought, but TEN. (We never asked how old she was -- she looks fantastic for her age!)
Yesterday, Fat Dog called me to announce they have decided to have a destination wedding in 4 months. In Maui.
Most people would shout, "Hooray! Maui, here we come!" But there are some difficulties with this plan. In no particular order:
1. The Czarina does not fly. Period.
2. The Czarina, who is chipping in some money towards the wedding, is also paying for Smurf's college tuition right now. So she doesn't exactly have buckets of money laying around.
3. Based on my calculations, it will cost me something like $2,000 to attend this wedding. That will wipe out my savings, eat up the bonus I am going to get....I can go, but it will hurt. A lot.
4. My other two brothers live paycheck to paycheck, so they won't be able to go.
5. Smurf will be in the middle of Fall semester of her sophomore year, so she may not be able to go. Also, The Czarina would have to pay for her to go, too.
6. Banana, my older sister, is currently vacationing in Morocco, so she probably won't have any money left when she gets back.
"So, out of all the people you have called so far, how many said they can go?" I asked him.
"Um, none, actually," he replied.
"Are you prepared to have no guests at your wedding?" I asked.
Silence on his end. I wonder if he realizes that this may mean he gets few wedding gifts, but decide to keep that thought to myself.
"Look," he said, "this is what we are doing. We hope you guys can make it, cuz we would really like you to be there."
*sigh*
This particular sibling of mine is unique in our family in so many ways: he's good at math, he got Grandma's weird feet, he is stubborn to the point of absurdity and he has champagne tastes -- only the best for Fat Dog!
I can just about guess what happened. Fat Dog got sick of all the indecision, ran out of patience and decided that this is what they are doing, no matter the cost, logistics or inconvenience. I know how he operates. I'm sure his fiance is trying to get him to slow down and think about this some, and he is having none of it. (I wish I could say he is the only one in the family who is impatient, but unfortunately, yours truly has the patience of a toddler.)
The part that irritates me the most? His argument that this is cheaper than getting married in our hometown! "You can't get married for less than $10,000. You just can't," he said. Um, I am pretty sure you can. I actually just attended a wedding a few weeks ago that was very small, very fun and very inexpensive. But you see, Fat Dog has a tendency to require only the BEST in everything. Don't get me wrong, it's great to have standards, but a touch of reality is good, too. See, he knows he can get married for less than $10k. He just doesn't want to, because it won't be all fancy and impressive. If he can't have a Top Shelf wedding, he will just basically not have one at all -- which is pretty much what this is. It's just a glorified elopement. But since it's an elopement in Maui, it will still impress.
"So let me get this straight. You guys live at one beach, but you're going to fly aaaaall the way across the country to get married at another beach?" I asked.
"It's Maui," he replied. Touche.
"And how is this cheaper than getting married in our hometown?" I asked.
He was getting frustrated with me now. "Gah! Look, the only weekend we could get married in Farmville is at the end of May, and that's when the Heart of Virginia Festival is happening."
(Trying to get married in our hometown during Heart of Virginia would be daunting, I will agree. It's pretty much the busiest weekend of the year for our 3 little hotels in Farmville.)
"The Heart of Virginia Festival is in May. You just said this would be in September," I pointed out.
"We don't even live there!" he replied.
"Nor do you live in Maui," I observed.
Silence. Touche, brother dear! This was kinda fun! I was enjoying poking holes in all his arguments. I am such a mean older sister, aren't I? But this is what he gets for having such a selfish wedding plan, after we were all looking forward to this wedding.
"So why do you think it will save you money to do it this way?" I continued.
"Because if we get married in Virginia Beach or in Farmville, we will have to invite all these people. You know how it goes -- if you invite this person, then you have to invite that person, too. Soon, your guest list is out of control. We are just inviting family. No one else," he explained.
"Yeah, I know that can happen easily with guest lists," I admitted. That's why you cap it off, make some tough decisions and deal with it, I thought. I imagined the unruly guest list like an untamed Mustang, bucking my brother off its back. How absurd. Who is in charge here, you or your guest list? I thought.
I almost pointed out to him that if you don't have any guests at your wedding, you also don't have any wedding gifts. Wonder if Mr. Top Shelf has realized this.
"Can't you just get married in Farmville or Virginia Beach and then have your honeymoon in Maui?" I pleaded.
"No, cuz that will cost even more money!" he said.
He also argued that they are saving up for a big house, since they are planning to have kids. Is it just me, or should you have the kids first before doing that?? He owns a 2 bedroom condo already. I love that taking a trip to Maui is part of the plan to save money for this house. Is he serious? I can hear Dave Ramsey screaming now.
I got off the phone with him and called The Czarina.
"Are you upset about all of this?" I asked her.
My mother, in true emotionally-repressed, German-American fashion, replied, "I'm not upset. I'm just not going."
Oh boy. She was super pissed. I wondered if she hung up on him, but decided it would be best not to ask.
Upon discovering that she and I both thought he was crazy, and for the same reasons, she told me I shouldn't have said all the stuff I said. (I was supposed to repress it all, like she did!) She made me call him back and apologize. So I did. She was right -- it's his wedding. We should be supportive. We need to be happy that we love his fiance so much.
I'm trying to have a better attitude about this, but I am still kinda pissed. I think he's being really selfish and shallow. Just because he can't have a big Hollywood wedding (like he surely feels he deserves) he will just not have one at all. He's making the wedding all about him, when I think it should involve our families, too. (Maybe I am just crazy, but I thought I was welcoming a new member into our family!) After all, out of the last 4 times my entire family has gotten together, 3 of those times were for funerals. I was kind of looking forward to getting together with my family for a happy occasion for once.
The Czarina thinks they will still change their minds and I shouldn't get too upset. She will probably try and talk some sense into him after she calms down a little. (She would never admit it, but I'm pretty sure she is furious.)
I almost just wish they had run off to Vegas or City Hall and just not told anyone. Then we wouldn't all have to decide if we want to spend all this money -- it would already be a done deal.
I love my brother, but he sure can be a pain in the neck.
Monday, March 08, 2010
All By Myself
Now that you have that song stuck in your head (hate me?)...
I.
Am.
Alone.
For three weeks. And 20 minutes into it, so far, it is A-W-E-S-O-M-E. I feel like I am on vacation. Think of me how you will, but the Ex-F (that's CN to most of you) just left to go out of town for...
THREE WHOLE WEEKS. INCLUDING WEEKENDS.
And I am soooooooo happy. He has been driving me bonkers lately. You see, he's having a hard time understanding that we are no longer together. My evidence?
I received a birthday present. (a nice gesture, I will say)
I received a Christmas present. (also a nice gesture)
I received a Valentine's Day present. And card. Which ended with "Love, CN"
Think about it. When was the last time you gave your ex any or all of the above? I thought so. To make it even more awkward, his mom still says hi to me when she calls, which is (again) nice, but really not necessary. I have slowly been trying to distance myself from him. But it's not easy.
If I am making dinner, and didn't consult him or invite him, he gets angry and sulks.
If I don't welcome him home at the end of the day, he sulks.
If I say anything which implies we are no longer an item or that I am no longer in love with him, he sulks.
I am sick and tired of all the sulking. It's manipulative and irritating. Because if I don't go over to him and apologize and soothe him, he will never stop sulking. It's gone on for as long as 48 hours before I give in. UGH. And lately, I have been not making as much of an effort to de-sulk him. Because I don't effing care anymore. We are over. Sorry it ended this way, it's not like I planned it. But we are not together anymore, so stop acting like it. Build a bridge already!
Ok, now that I have exposed myself as a cruel and heartless bitch, I will go on. Venting over for the time being.
I think that little dating he did a few weeks back was just something he was trying to distract himself with. His heart wasn't really in it. Yesterday, he was acting very strangely, and after asking him a MILLION times to just tell me (because that's fun), he told me he was sad about us. I have those days, too, sometimes, so I understand. But when you have no hobbies and no friends, it's kind of hard to get out of that slump and sad mood. To get over crap times in your life, you need a support network of friends and interests. He has neither, despite my pleading with him about how much it would benefit his level of happiness.
(Y'all, I am not exaggerating -- the man really has little interest in anything outside of the NFL and watching TV, and he has never had many friends because he is both paranoid and refuses to put himself out there. Yes, these two aspects of his personality played a role in our breaking up. I got tired of always being social director.)
Ok, so I lied about the venting being over.
Last night, Ex-F announced he was going to look into moving out when he gets back from his work trip. Thank effing gawd. We have been staying here as roomies (ask me how fun that is, btw) for 6 months, and although I love saving all this money, I am about to lose my mind. Not only is it an awkward living situation, but I am on Sulk Patrol, I can't really date and I'm rapidly becoming majorly annoyed with the fact that he feels the need to hog up all the space in the refrigerator with 7 different types of drinks. And he is SO LOUD all the time. Howard Stern (which I abhor) is blared all day long at 56 decibels.
Whoa. I didn't realize how annoyed I was until I started writing this post!
Anyway, at this point, I am ok with sucking it up for a few months and paying for the rent by myself. I may not even move when the lease is up. I don't think I will be able to find anything with as much space, quiet and safety for any less. The only problem?
My tenant (in my house in SC) is moving out in 3 weeks. I currently do not have a replacement tenant. So this might get interesting, financially. Add to that, my plan B fell through -- did I tell you about the married couple I know who said they would be willing to share a house w/me when my lease is up? Well, I just found out they renewed their lease for another year, which means they are not moving in August as originally planned. Looks like I am out on my own.
Rats. Oh well. I have not lived alone in a while, and I am DYING to. Ex-F never leaves the house, which means I am never alone at all. Never. All day, every day. Unless I leave the house. Which gets old, because sometimes I want to just crash in front of the TV in my jammies, not get in my car to go somewhere and be anonymous in public. Why do I always have to be the one to leave?
In case you are wondering why I am not considering moving out, here are the reasons:
1. Ex-F really cannot afford this rent on his own. I can (even though it means I will be eating PB&J sandwiches for lunch every day). The last thing I want to do is dick him over some more.
2. Knowing him, he will return from his trip all happy and perfectly content with staying put. He talks a big game, but always opts for whatever is easiest in life (another personality trait I don't like.)
3. Until I get a tenant in my house in SC, I need to stick with whatever is cheapest, and right now, that means staying put and convincing Ex-F to stay put, too.
Ugh. Boy did I learn my lesson. I am NEVER living with a man again until I get married. Whenever that is.
Thanks for letting me vent. And if you think I'm a bitch, that's ok. Maybe I am. But living with Mr. Sulkface who has no friends or interests other than stocking an army's worth of drinks in the fridge would get on your nerves,too. Trust me.
I.
Am.
Alone.
For three weeks. And 20 minutes into it, so far, it is A-W-E-S-O-M-E. I feel like I am on vacation. Think of me how you will, but the Ex-F (that's CN to most of you) just left to go out of town for...
THREE WHOLE WEEKS. INCLUDING WEEKENDS.
And I am soooooooo happy. He has been driving me bonkers lately. You see, he's having a hard time understanding that we are no longer together. My evidence?
I received a birthday present. (a nice gesture, I will say)
I received a Christmas present. (also a nice gesture)
I received a Valentine's Day present. And card. Which ended with "Love, CN"
Think about it. When was the last time you gave your ex any or all of the above? I thought so. To make it even more awkward, his mom still says hi to me when she calls, which is (again) nice, but really not necessary. I have slowly been trying to distance myself from him. But it's not easy.
If I am making dinner, and didn't consult him or invite him, he gets angry and sulks.
If I don't welcome him home at the end of the day, he sulks.
If I say anything which implies we are no longer an item or that I am no longer in love with him, he sulks.
I am sick and tired of all the sulking. It's manipulative and irritating. Because if I don't go over to him and apologize and soothe him, he will never stop sulking. It's gone on for as long as 48 hours before I give in. UGH. And lately, I have been not making as much of an effort to de-sulk him. Because I don't effing care anymore. We are over. Sorry it ended this way, it's not like I planned it. But we are not together anymore, so stop acting like it. Build a bridge already!
Ok, now that I have exposed myself as a cruel and heartless bitch, I will go on. Venting over for the time being.
I think that little dating he did a few weeks back was just something he was trying to distract himself with. His heart wasn't really in it. Yesterday, he was acting very strangely, and after asking him a MILLION times to just tell me (because that's fun), he told me he was sad about us. I have those days, too, sometimes, so I understand. But when you have no hobbies and no friends, it's kind of hard to get out of that slump and sad mood. To get over crap times in your life, you need a support network of friends and interests. He has neither, despite my pleading with him about how much it would benefit his level of happiness.
(Y'all, I am not exaggerating -- the man really has little interest in anything outside of the NFL and watching TV, and he has never had many friends because he is both paranoid and refuses to put himself out there. Yes, these two aspects of his personality played a role in our breaking up. I got tired of always being social director.)
Ok, so I lied about the venting being over.
Last night, Ex-F announced he was going to look into moving out when he gets back from his work trip. Thank effing gawd. We have been staying here as roomies (ask me how fun that is, btw) for 6 months, and although I love saving all this money, I am about to lose my mind. Not only is it an awkward living situation, but I am on Sulk Patrol, I can't really date and I'm rapidly becoming majorly annoyed with the fact that he feels the need to hog up all the space in the refrigerator with 7 different types of drinks. And he is SO LOUD all the time. Howard Stern (which I abhor) is blared all day long at 56 decibels.
Whoa. I didn't realize how annoyed I was until I started writing this post!
Anyway, at this point, I am ok with sucking it up for a few months and paying for the rent by myself. I may not even move when the lease is up. I don't think I will be able to find anything with as much space, quiet and safety for any less. The only problem?
My tenant (in my house in SC) is moving out in 3 weeks. I currently do not have a replacement tenant. So this might get interesting, financially. Add to that, my plan B fell through -- did I tell you about the married couple I know who said they would be willing to share a house w/me when my lease is up? Well, I just found out they renewed their lease for another year, which means they are not moving in August as originally planned. Looks like I am out on my own.
Rats. Oh well. I have not lived alone in a while, and I am DYING to. Ex-F never leaves the house, which means I am never alone at all. Never. All day, every day. Unless I leave the house. Which gets old, because sometimes I want to just crash in front of the TV in my jammies, not get in my car to go somewhere and be anonymous in public. Why do I always have to be the one to leave?
In case you are wondering why I am not considering moving out, here are the reasons:
1. Ex-F really cannot afford this rent on his own. I can (even though it means I will be eating PB&J sandwiches for lunch every day). The last thing I want to do is dick him over some more.
2. Knowing him, he will return from his trip all happy and perfectly content with staying put. He talks a big game, but always opts for whatever is easiest in life (another personality trait I don't like.)
3. Until I get a tenant in my house in SC, I need to stick with whatever is cheapest, and right now, that means staying put and convincing Ex-F to stay put, too.
Ugh. Boy did I learn my lesson. I am NEVER living with a man again until I get married. Whenever that is.
Thanks for letting me vent. And if you think I'm a bitch, that's ok. Maybe I am. But living with Mr. Sulkface who has no friends or interests other than stocking an army's worth of drinks in the fridge would get on your nerves,too. Trust me.
Friday, October 02, 2009
Dying Alone and Childless: Day 23
First of all, I must thank each and every one of you for your support, emails, text messages and comments. I am truly overwhelmed, and literally brought to tears. *sniff*
This is going to make no sense, but the decision was both easy and incredibly difficult. At the same time. But I am also alternating between the two, especially now, after 3 weeks. It's so obvious we are wrong for each other! No, wait! Oh my gawd, did I really do that? Am I ok with this? Yes. Yes, I am totally ok. No, wait. etc. etc. Those of you who love the Voices in My Head have no idea what the cocophony has been like for the last month. I feel like a very, very strong woman..........but also like a murderer. I killed my dream. I killed us. But I am proud of myself for recognizing something and doing something about it, even though it made me sad and hurt someone I still care very deeply for. I have pride and shame. Mostly shame.
The thing that is really strange about this whole process (and it makes sense if you think about it) is how similar this feels to grief. I imagine it must be even worse if it's in the context of going through a divorce. That must be excruciating.
Like grief, I have good days and I have bad days. Some days I am feeling fine, and almost ready to put it all in the past and move on. Other days, I am really bummed out and wondering, "What if I just blew it?" I mean, you only get so many chances in life, right? What if I am being too picky? No two people agree on everything, so you have to have compromises, right? Do people really get married after the age of 32, or is that just what tv wants you to think? If I were to meet Mr. Perfect today, there's no way I would make it down the aisle anytime sooner than 32, let's face it. I am in a race against crow's feet, y'all. It's getting serious now. Have I officially reached old maid-dom? Are my ovaries vestigial organs at this point, and I might as well start planning my trip around the world -- solo? Because that is my Plan B: Become a World Traveller. Are all the men in my age range as confused, damaged and gun-shy as I am now? Or worse -- are all the good ones taken?
...and then there's the obvious question......
When and how do I try to re-enter the world of dating? Do I try online dating again?
*shudder* Because I am in a town where I don't really know anyone. So my dating options are pretty much nil. Ugh. No. Not yet, anyway. Maybe in a few months. I gotta get a feel for this town through the eyes of a single girl first. I don't know if it's full of jackasses who will only waste my time or if it's just a matter of separating the wheat from the chaff.
This is really all moot, anyway, as CN and I are now......roommates. Yes, we are 100% broken up. We've even had the, "Ok, are we really really broken up? Or is there a chance we might get back together?" talk. There is no touching beyond hugs, I put a robe on when I get out of the shower, etc. We are in separate bedrooms and are rarely home at the same time. So far.....so good. I don't have to cook, and he doesn't have to take me out to dinner. We each have our own couch, and if we don't want to watch the same show, one of us just goes upstairs. No harm, no foul.
I wonder if you are thinking this sounds incredibly awkward. It isn't. It's funny how comfortable it has been so far. I guess when you have dated someone for 2 years, the time to feel awkward has passed completely, no matter the circumstances. We are both pretty laid back people, and we have agreed not to bring any new significant others over until further notice. (Repeating this rule aloud just makes us snicker, because both of us go for loooooooong periods of time between relationships, so it's humorous to even think about dating a new person right now.)
At first, we talked about him moving out, but it would be difficult for me to afford this place on my own. Especially since his job pays for Internet (yay!). And he was not excited about the idea of moving again after we JUST got here. So for the time being, we are roomies. The Czarina does NOT get this and doesn't like it. I think she is worried we won't be able to move on or avoid sleeping together. I see her concern, but unfortunately, I don't make enough money to kick him out. Well, I do, but it would seriously impact my clothing budget. :) And he's saving a lot of money by staying, too. You can't live in a decent neighborhood in Savannah for under $800/month, and right now, we are each paying $500/month -- essentially a steal. And to be honest, I don't want to have any other roommate right now. CN is a really good one. Except that he doesn't seem to put his dirty dishes in the dishwasher -- a minor concern in the world of roommates.
He has told his job that he wants to be put on what is called "detail". This means he would travel a LOT all around the state, to different towns to do his work. If he gets put on detail, he will be gone periodically for as long as a month at a time. Obviously, this would be good for both of us. He's still waiting to hear back from them.
For the first time in my life, I wish I had a PR assistant. Someone to break the news to family and friends, field any questions, deal with the backlash, put out a press release for me. Because explaining it is one of the worst parts about this process. I dread it. And it's big news, too. I can't just do a facebook update. I have to email or call all the important people in my life. Individually. It took me about a week just to tell you guys, and I don't even know most of you! I try to get other people to spread the word for me so I don't have to repeat my sad story over and over and over. I elected one trusted coworker to put the news out to everyone at work. I even managed to change my facebook status secretly, so there was no horrible broken heart icon in everyone's news feed. (Whew!)
Then again, part of me feels like this is what I get for what I did. The punishment for my crime. Like Sisyphus, I am doomed to repeat my story over and over and over forever. Endless questions. Endless pity. Every time I tell it, I get more and more bummed out. Luckily, it comes and goes in waves. And work is REALLY busy right now, so that helps a lot.
I have gotten a mixed bag of reactions to the news, from shock to confusion to relief to pity -- and everything inbetween. What has been surprising to me is how invested some of our friends were in "us". A couple of them are having a hard time coming to terms that we broke up. For real. And no, we are not getting back together. I've been really surprised at how many family members were relieved to hear the news. They could tell we weren't a good fit. But they kept their mouths shut. I do not blame them. Telling someone they are with the wrong person is very difficult.
I am worried about the long term effects of this living situation. I have a friend who is in a similar situation. She's been in it for about 6 months now, and they are waiting for the house to sell before they can part ways. Ugh. I feel for her. Anyway, she said to me the other day that she's thinking about getting back together with him. I am worried that as time passes, I may start thinking like that, and fall back to where we were, and end up dragging things out or making a mistake...ugh. So I am a little concerned about my future and my ability to stay strong for a long period of time (we all have our needs -- *ahem*) and still move on despite the fact that I am living with an ex-fiance.
But I have to say that we are both being respectful, mature and flexible. So I'm kind of proud of us. Most people would turn this into a vindictive, painful and petty living situation. We are not.
I don't think he would admit it, even to himself, but I think he feels some relief, too. The pressure to be someone he's not is all gone. He doesn't have to try and understand me or my needs anymore. I think he may be starting to see how this is a good thing. Or maybe I just tell myself that to alleviate some of the mountains of guilt I am experiencing.
More than anything, though, I feel really really alone and lost. For the first time in my life. For two years, I have been a part of something. And now it's gone. Who am I? Why did I put myself in this situation? Am I pushing people away? How do I get in touch with myself again, when so much of my identity is wrapped up with him? What's next?
I guess today is one of those bad days.
This is going to make no sense, but the decision was both easy and incredibly difficult. At the same time. But I am also alternating between the two, especially now, after 3 weeks. It's so obvious we are wrong for each other! No, wait! Oh my gawd, did I really do that? Am I ok with this? Yes. Yes, I am totally ok. No, wait. etc. etc. Those of you who love the Voices in My Head have no idea what the cocophony has been like for the last month. I feel like a very, very strong woman..........but also like a murderer. I killed my dream. I killed us. But I am proud of myself for recognizing something and doing something about it, even though it made me sad and hurt someone I still care very deeply for. I have pride and shame. Mostly shame.
The thing that is really strange about this whole process (and it makes sense if you think about it) is how similar this feels to grief. I imagine it must be even worse if it's in the context of going through a divorce. That must be excruciating.
Like grief, I have good days and I have bad days. Some days I am feeling fine, and almost ready to put it all in the past and move on. Other days, I am really bummed out and wondering, "What if I just blew it?" I mean, you only get so many chances in life, right? What if I am being too picky? No two people agree on everything, so you have to have compromises, right? Do people really get married after the age of 32, or is that just what tv wants you to think? If I were to meet Mr. Perfect today, there's no way I would make it down the aisle anytime sooner than 32, let's face it. I am in a race against crow's feet, y'all. It's getting serious now. Have I officially reached old maid-dom? Are my ovaries vestigial organs at this point, and I might as well start planning my trip around the world -- solo? Because that is my Plan B: Become a World Traveller. Are all the men in my age range as confused, damaged and gun-shy as I am now? Or worse -- are all the good ones taken?
...and then there's the obvious question......
When and how do I try to re-enter the world of dating? Do I try online dating again?
*shudder* Because I am in a town where I don't really know anyone. So my dating options are pretty much nil. Ugh. No. Not yet, anyway. Maybe in a few months. I gotta get a feel for this town through the eyes of a single girl first. I don't know if it's full of jackasses who will only waste my time or if it's just a matter of separating the wheat from the chaff.
This is really all moot, anyway, as CN and I are now......roommates. Yes, we are 100% broken up. We've even had the, "Ok, are we really really broken up? Or is there a chance we might get back together?" talk. There is no touching beyond hugs, I put a robe on when I get out of the shower, etc. We are in separate bedrooms and are rarely home at the same time. So far.....so good. I don't have to cook, and he doesn't have to take me out to dinner. We each have our own couch, and if we don't want to watch the same show, one of us just goes upstairs. No harm, no foul.
I wonder if you are thinking this sounds incredibly awkward. It isn't. It's funny how comfortable it has been so far. I guess when you have dated someone for 2 years, the time to feel awkward has passed completely, no matter the circumstances. We are both pretty laid back people, and we have agreed not to bring any new significant others over until further notice. (Repeating this rule aloud just makes us snicker, because both of us go for loooooooong periods of time between relationships, so it's humorous to even think about dating a new person right now.)
At first, we talked about him moving out, but it would be difficult for me to afford this place on my own. Especially since his job pays for Internet (yay!). And he was not excited about the idea of moving again after we JUST got here. So for the time being, we are roomies. The Czarina does NOT get this and doesn't like it. I think she is worried we won't be able to move on or avoid sleeping together. I see her concern, but unfortunately, I don't make enough money to kick him out. Well, I do, but it would seriously impact my clothing budget. :) And he's saving a lot of money by staying, too. You can't live in a decent neighborhood in Savannah for under $800/month, and right now, we are each paying $500/month -- essentially a steal. And to be honest, I don't want to have any other roommate right now. CN is a really good one. Except that he doesn't seem to put his dirty dishes in the dishwasher -- a minor concern in the world of roommates.
He has told his job that he wants to be put on what is called "detail". This means he would travel a LOT all around the state, to different towns to do his work. If he gets put on detail, he will be gone periodically for as long as a month at a time. Obviously, this would be good for both of us. He's still waiting to hear back from them.
For the first time in my life, I wish I had a PR assistant. Someone to break the news to family and friends, field any questions, deal with the backlash, put out a press release for me. Because explaining it is one of the worst parts about this process. I dread it. And it's big news, too. I can't just do a facebook update. I have to email or call all the important people in my life. Individually. It took me about a week just to tell you guys, and I don't even know most of you! I try to get other people to spread the word for me so I don't have to repeat my sad story over and over and over. I elected one trusted coworker to put the news out to everyone at work. I even managed to change my facebook status secretly, so there was no horrible broken heart icon in everyone's news feed. (Whew!)
Then again, part of me feels like this is what I get for what I did. The punishment for my crime. Like Sisyphus, I am doomed to repeat my story over and over and over forever. Endless questions. Endless pity. Every time I tell it, I get more and more bummed out. Luckily, it comes and goes in waves. And work is REALLY busy right now, so that helps a lot.
I have gotten a mixed bag of reactions to the news, from shock to confusion to relief to pity -- and everything inbetween. What has been surprising to me is how invested some of our friends were in "us". A couple of them are having a hard time coming to terms that we broke up. For real. And no, we are not getting back together. I've been really surprised at how many family members were relieved to hear the news. They could tell we weren't a good fit. But they kept their mouths shut. I do not blame them. Telling someone they are with the wrong person is very difficult.
I am worried about the long term effects of this living situation. I have a friend who is in a similar situation. She's been in it for about 6 months now, and they are waiting for the house to sell before they can part ways. Ugh. I feel for her. Anyway, she said to me the other day that she's thinking about getting back together with him. I am worried that as time passes, I may start thinking like that, and fall back to where we were, and end up dragging things out or making a mistake...ugh. So I am a little concerned about my future and my ability to stay strong for a long period of time (we all have our needs -- *ahem*) and still move on despite the fact that I am living with an ex-fiance.
But I have to say that we are both being respectful, mature and flexible. So I'm kind of proud of us. Most people would turn this into a vindictive, painful and petty living situation. We are not.
I don't think he would admit it, even to himself, but I think he feels some relief, too. The pressure to be someone he's not is all gone. He doesn't have to try and understand me or my needs anymore. I think he may be starting to see how this is a good thing. Or maybe I just tell myself that to alleviate some of the mountains of guilt I am experiencing.
More than anything, though, I feel really really alone and lost. For the first time in my life. For two years, I have been a part of something. And now it's gone. Who am I? Why did I put myself in this situation? Am I pushing people away? How do I get in touch with myself again, when so much of my identity is wrapped up with him? What's next?
I guess today is one of those bad days.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Probably the Biggest Post Ever
So after trying on a bazillion dresses at about 4 stores, I found The Dress.....
If you want to see a pic of the back, go to David's Bridal and search for style # CT 2406. It's exactly what I wanted -- lace, but still simple, under $1,000 and not too fluffy or Bridezilla-y. But before you get all excited, I have some other news, too.
While CN and I were in Virginia visiting The Czarina, we spoke with the pastor of my family's church in my hometown. He wanted to talk to us about getting some pre-wedding counseling and he wanted to ask us a bunch of questions.
He started with some basic ones which I think we handled ok. Then the questions started to get more involved. How are we working on the budget? Who will do all the housework? Who will be the primary caretaker of the children? How many kids do you want to have? Where will you live? Who brings home the bacon? etc.
We sort of muddled through, because to be honest, we had never really discussed any of these things too deeply. We had some ideas, but nothing definite. Then he gave us a questionnaire to fill out -- one for me and one for CN. We were supposed to fill them out separately, and then compare answers. We did it when we got back home to Savannah, but I already knew what would happen.
Our answers were pretty different. Our answers were different on BIG questions that are important. Like how do you picture your life in ten years? My answer: fun, exciting chaos -- lots of kids running around, possibly a new career, we might be living anywhere in the world, constant changes. His answer: living in Savannah. Same jobs. Maybe a kid. And a house.
Another question pointed out to me that we do not resolve issues properly (we basically drop them rather than get to the bottom of it) and that I have a small issue with his relationship with his mother (she is really needy and not independent AT ALL, which makes him feel like he can never move too far away, no matter what). I asked CN what would happen if I found a great job that would mean a better life for us and our kids.....but it's in Oregon. He said I would be moving there alone if that happened, because he can't move that far from his mom.
Wow. That's an eye opener.
He believes staying near your family is much more important than I do. He cannot fathom living somewhere that is not within a couple hours from his mom. This is a foreign concept to me. That's why planes, trains and automobiles were invented.
"What if your mom and I had a disagreement? Would you take my side or hers?" I asked.
"Well, that depends on who is right," he replied.
"Wrong answer," I said. "If I am the mother of your children, I have to come first. Period. When you marry me, I have to become your priorty, second only to God. Just like you would become my priority. That's what marriage is about. If your marriage is not first, that's a problem for me."
He could not see that.
After going through some more talking and discussing what we wanted from life and how we viewed marriage, our differences became really obvious to me. But I had seen this coming.
For a while.
For several months, actually.
A few months ago, I began to have some doubts about marrying CN. I even had a huge freak out and went to go visit MJ for a weekend to talk to her about it. I was so confused! I knew what I was feeling, but I couldn't verbalize it. She did a great job at listening to me, but not voicing her opinion. Exactly what I needed! I felt a little better. I kept telling myself, "It's not that big of a deal. You love each other. You will figure it out." or "Too late. You're marrying CN, so you made your bed. Now sleep in it."
These are NOT good thoughts, am I right?
I had a nagging voice in the back of my head. It was doubt. And if there is one thing I believe, it's that you should NEVER get married if you have any doubts. I began to realize that CN is lacking in some things I cannot live with. I love him to death, but I know it takes more than love to make a marriage work. He is perfectly happy with the same job, same house, same day in and out-- for the most part. He is not ambitious or very energetic or motivated to improve his life. He is not intellectually curious. Now, I am not knocking these things. I am sure there are plenty of wonderful people who are perfectly happy like this. But I am not one of them. That is not good. CN and I need to be on the same page with things, and we are not. When I think about a future w/CN, all I see is that everything will be my job:
where we live (It was my idea to move to Savannah, remember?)
how many kids to have
which job to take (I make more money than him, and he will probably never change jobs, so we will probably move according to my career, not his, which is an easily-transferred job anyway)
the housework (I do not mind being in charge of it, especially after seeing him do laundry!)
raising the kids (not that he would be a bad father -- he would be great. But I can tell I would be the one helping them with homework, putting them to bed, etc.)
Are you tired yet? Because I am exhausted when I think about this. CN is a passive participant in his own life. He has very few friends, and only talks to them when they call him. He has very few hobbies. I began to realize -- he's kind of boring. But how could that be?? I was so happy dating him! And then I realized: he is always willing to do what I want to do. He doesn't have any life or opinions outside of me. It's like dating myself! I like being busy, trying new things, working hard, taking risks. But I can't do it all. And since CN is so passive, I will be doing everything. All by myself. And during this process, CN will grow resentful of me for running the show all the time. When he does, and says something, I will have to back down and do what he wants for a change, which will make me resentful. We will fall into a vicious cycle of resentment. It will eat away at what we have. And what I need in a spouse, I will eventually want to get elsewhere. Not good. At all.
But I was not the only one who saw it. Before I left my mom's house, The Czarina pulled me aside after everyone went to bed. I had talked to her about this stuff a little before, in the weeks preceding this visit. But I had been so excited and wrapped up in getting married, I had sort of put it to the back of my mind.
She said to me, "I'm only going to say one thing. And if I'm wrong, then tell me to shut up and we will never have to talk about this again. He is a sweet guy, and I know you love him very much, and I can tell he loves you very much. But if you are making all the decisions, how is this any different than being single?"
As soon as she said this, I burst into tears and knew what I had to do. I think I was just waiting for someone to sort of give me permission to remember that there were no rings on any fingers yet. I didn't have to do it.
I broke it off last week.
If you want to see a pic of the back, go to David's Bridal and search for style # CT 2406. It's exactly what I wanted -- lace, but still simple, under $1,000 and not too fluffy or Bridezilla-y. But before you get all excited, I have some other news, too.
While CN and I were in Virginia visiting The Czarina, we spoke with the pastor of my family's church in my hometown. He wanted to talk to us about getting some pre-wedding counseling and he wanted to ask us a bunch of questions.
He started with some basic ones which I think we handled ok. Then the questions started to get more involved. How are we working on the budget? Who will do all the housework? Who will be the primary caretaker of the children? How many kids do you want to have? Where will you live? Who brings home the bacon? etc.
We sort of muddled through, because to be honest, we had never really discussed any of these things too deeply. We had some ideas, but nothing definite. Then he gave us a questionnaire to fill out -- one for me and one for CN. We were supposed to fill them out separately, and then compare answers. We did it when we got back home to Savannah, but I already knew what would happen.
Our answers were pretty different. Our answers were different on BIG questions that are important. Like how do you picture your life in ten years? My answer: fun, exciting chaos -- lots of kids running around, possibly a new career, we might be living anywhere in the world, constant changes. His answer: living in Savannah. Same jobs. Maybe a kid. And a house.
Another question pointed out to me that we do not resolve issues properly (we basically drop them rather than get to the bottom of it) and that I have a small issue with his relationship with his mother (she is really needy and not independent AT ALL, which makes him feel like he can never move too far away, no matter what). I asked CN what would happen if I found a great job that would mean a better life for us and our kids.....but it's in Oregon. He said I would be moving there alone if that happened, because he can't move that far from his mom.
Wow. That's an eye opener.
He believes staying near your family is much more important than I do. He cannot fathom living somewhere that is not within a couple hours from his mom. This is a foreign concept to me. That's why planes, trains and automobiles were invented.
"What if your mom and I had a disagreement? Would you take my side or hers?" I asked.
"Well, that depends on who is right," he replied.
"Wrong answer," I said. "If I am the mother of your children, I have to come first. Period. When you marry me, I have to become your priorty, second only to God. Just like you would become my priority. That's what marriage is about. If your marriage is not first, that's a problem for me."
He could not see that.
After going through some more talking and discussing what we wanted from life and how we viewed marriage, our differences became really obvious to me. But I had seen this coming.
For a while.
For several months, actually.
A few months ago, I began to have some doubts about marrying CN. I even had a huge freak out and went to go visit MJ for a weekend to talk to her about it. I was so confused! I knew what I was feeling, but I couldn't verbalize it. She did a great job at listening to me, but not voicing her opinion. Exactly what I needed! I felt a little better. I kept telling myself, "It's not that big of a deal. You love each other. You will figure it out." or "Too late. You're marrying CN, so you made your bed. Now sleep in it."
These are NOT good thoughts, am I right?
I had a nagging voice in the back of my head. It was doubt. And if there is one thing I believe, it's that you should NEVER get married if you have any doubts. I began to realize that CN is lacking in some things I cannot live with. I love him to death, but I know it takes more than love to make a marriage work. He is perfectly happy with the same job, same house, same day in and out-- for the most part. He is not ambitious or very energetic or motivated to improve his life. He is not intellectually curious. Now, I am not knocking these things. I am sure there are plenty of wonderful people who are perfectly happy like this. But I am not one of them. That is not good. CN and I need to be on the same page with things, and we are not. When I think about a future w/CN, all I see is that everything will be my job:
where we live (It was my idea to move to Savannah, remember?)
how many kids to have
which job to take (I make more money than him, and he will probably never change jobs, so we will probably move according to my career, not his, which is an easily-transferred job anyway)
the housework (I do not mind being in charge of it, especially after seeing him do laundry!)
raising the kids (not that he would be a bad father -- he would be great. But I can tell I would be the one helping them with homework, putting them to bed, etc.)
Are you tired yet? Because I am exhausted when I think about this. CN is a passive participant in his own life. He has very few friends, and only talks to them when they call him. He has very few hobbies. I began to realize -- he's kind of boring. But how could that be?? I was so happy dating him! And then I realized: he is always willing to do what I want to do. He doesn't have any life or opinions outside of me. It's like dating myself! I like being busy, trying new things, working hard, taking risks. But I can't do it all. And since CN is so passive, I will be doing everything. All by myself. And during this process, CN will grow resentful of me for running the show all the time. When he does, and says something, I will have to back down and do what he wants for a change, which will make me resentful. We will fall into a vicious cycle of resentment. It will eat away at what we have. And what I need in a spouse, I will eventually want to get elsewhere. Not good. At all.
But I was not the only one who saw it. Before I left my mom's house, The Czarina pulled me aside after everyone went to bed. I had talked to her about this stuff a little before, in the weeks preceding this visit. But I had been so excited and wrapped up in getting married, I had sort of put it to the back of my mind.
She said to me, "I'm only going to say one thing. And if I'm wrong, then tell me to shut up and we will never have to talk about this again. He is a sweet guy, and I know you love him very much, and I can tell he loves you very much. But if you are making all the decisions, how is this any different than being single?"
As soon as she said this, I burst into tears and knew what I had to do. I think I was just waiting for someone to sort of give me permission to remember that there were no rings on any fingers yet. I didn't have to do it.
I broke it off last week.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Growing Pains
Just to clarify for everyone, I am not blogging right now so that I can talk about my boyfriend's "small wiener" because I "don't even like him anymore."
Ugh. This is all I am listening to until my drunk boyfriend goes to bed. It's like a frigging record player. He's joking when he says it, but he's slurring. Which would be funny. The first 43 times.
Oh crap. He just came in and read all of that over my shoulder. Now he's talking about how I "don't even like him anymore." Again. According to him, he is sleeping on the couch (he's not) because I hate him (I don't). Ooh, he turned on American Idol. Sweet. It's like my own personal boyfriend babysitter. Silence is golden. I can blog in peace.
*Mumblings about how I don't even like him because he has a small wiener are heard from the living room couch.*
"No, you don't have a small wiener. It's massive and I can barely handle it," I am saying.
He said something about buttholes. I don't know.
Gotta love this insight into our lives, huh? I am tired and he's drunk. Hence this weird post. We have this exact conversation anytime he has more than 4 beers. Luckily, you are not physically here with us, so you don't have to witness him grabbing my boobs and "massaging" (read: man-handling them like he's tenderizing a steak) them, which causes me to slap his hands away and tell him to leave me alone.
This inevitably leads to another slurring rant about how I don't like him and his theoretically small wiener. Only this time, since my stalker (yes, the same stalker) tried to friend me AGAIN on myspace today, he now follows it up with, "You probably want Sylvester's wiener!! I know it!!"
UGH.
This is actually a perfect intro for what I want to talk about today. I knew that since CN and I have always gotten along extremely well (it's kind of unreal, actually, how well we get along) that ...
"No, I am not blogging lies about you," I just yelled to him.
Negative mumblings from the couch.
"Yes, I do love you," I continue. Please go back to talking to Paula Abdul, I think to myself.
Where was I? Oh yes. I knew it would go pretty well, this whole moving in together thing. I knew we would not have any major problems. And we don't. But the devil's in the details, you know? Here are some things I have learned about him since this whole moving thing has taken place:
1. He gives new meaning to the label "pack rat". He makes me look like an amateur. I told him I'd help him pack up his stuff/get rid of stuff he doesn't want anymore. So we go to Columbia for the weekend to get started on packing his stuff. 15 garbage bags full of trash later, he realizes he doesn't have as much stuff as he thought and I realize he hasn't thrown anything away since the 12th grade. Who keeps notebooks full of notes from college classes????!!
2. He is apparently incapable of closing a shower curtain when he's done taking a shower. This irks the crap out of me, because you might as well tell Mr. and Mrs. Mildew to just sit down and make themselves comfortable on your plastic...
"No I don't! Your wiener is not small and ugly! I love you very much and I am not telling lies about you! Your wiener smells fine!! I'm not telling anyone that!"
Ok, anyway, you get what I'm saying about the wet shower curtain.
3. Did you know that the phrases "resealable packaging" and "to prevent them from drying out" are lost on some people? Yup. My boyfriend is one of them. Baby wipes, cleaning wipes, you name it. Left open to the air. Worthless.
4. He owns approximately 587 towels. Somewhere there is a 20 year old son of a cotton industry magnate, driving his own BMW paid for by my boyfriend's towel collection.
5. Did I mention that he only uses the towel once before they are "dirty"? Which is funny to me, because he only uses them to dry off his squeaky clean body when he gets out of the shower, which will soon be full of mildew, thanks to his inability to understand the concept of fungi. If you are doing the math, this is at least 7 "dirty" towels per week from him. This makes him a complete freak, in my book.
I am not singling out my boyfriend, though. Oh yes. I am also dealing with some harsh reality of self-reflection:
1. The discussion we had about Absurd Overusage of Bath Towels and Their Laundering made me realize that I had no earthly idea how long it had been since I had pulled out a clean towel for myself. If he's the freek, I'm the gross one. I don't know which is worse.
2. I am a little more possessive -- ok, selfish-- about my stuff and my space than I thought. I *ahem* haven't made much room for him in the closet. But only about 10% of his wardrobe needs ironing, whereas about half of mine does. Ok, maybe a third. Yes, his clothes are on the floor of the bedroom right now. In semi-organized piles. Yes, I am a jerk. But I have a plan and a day off, so things will change for him soon. And CN went to grab some pop tarts the other day, and I said, "Nonononononono!!! Those are for work day breakfasts only! It's one of the few things I can eat at my desk!!!" -- Seriously? I am telling this to my 30 year old boyfriend, who not only washed all 587 of his "dirty" towels, but also my dirty clothes? AND folded them? I am telling him that he can't have a pop tart? Was I even listening to myself?
3. Why. The. Fuck. Do. I. Have. So many. Damn. Shoes. Jesus tapdancing Christ, did they reproduce in the U-Haul on the way down here? I remember looking at my old closet and thinking, "Gosh, 70 pairs isn't really that many. I could totally get more shoes. I have collection gaps, definitely." And now, I want to chuck them ALL because I am sick and tired of trying to store them creatively.
Ok, I'm sure there are more things I could add to this list, but let's face it, my self-critiquing skills are not exactly well-honed. And this is my blog. I told him to get his own, where he can bitch about how messy I am and how I don't seem to understand that expiration dates on food are for safety, not gambling with food, or as I like to call them, "adventures in eating". But he doesn't listen.
Besides, now it's time for me to give you the Ghetto Update.
Last Sunday afternoon, I was at work. (Yes, now I get to work occassional Sundays. I don't want to talk about it.) CN calls me. He was looking out the back window of our place, where he saw a group of teenagers sitting on our back stoop. This would only be mildly irritating, because it's just some harmless trespassing, except for the simple fact they were PASSING AROUND A HANDGUN. Which was the reason he was calling me.
"That's it. We are moving out. It's final. This is the last straw," he said.
I agreed, but questioned why he was talking to me and not a local 911 emergency dispatcher.
"Oh. Cuz they left already," he said.
GAH.
And to add rainbow colored candy sprinkles to this ice cream sundae from hell that is our living situation, Sammy has been bringing home fleas from our walks. So this place is a ticking time bomb, probably full of cazillions of little jumping, biting fuckers, marinating in their little wicked egg cocoon pods, counting down the moment until they get to microscopically turn our bodies into Swiss cheese.
Must. Move. Soon. Please. Send. Help.
Ugh. This is all I am listening to until my drunk boyfriend goes to bed. It's like a frigging record player. He's joking when he says it, but he's slurring. Which would be funny. The first 43 times.
Oh crap. He just came in and read all of that over my shoulder. Now he's talking about how I "don't even like him anymore." Again. According to him, he is sleeping on the couch (he's not) because I hate him (I don't). Ooh, he turned on American Idol. Sweet. It's like my own personal boyfriend babysitter. Silence is golden. I can blog in peace.
*Mumblings about how I don't even like him because he has a small wiener are heard from the living room couch.*
"No, you don't have a small wiener. It's massive and I can barely handle it," I am saying.
He said something about buttholes. I don't know.
Gotta love this insight into our lives, huh? I am tired and he's drunk. Hence this weird post. We have this exact conversation anytime he has more than 4 beers. Luckily, you are not physically here with us, so you don't have to witness him grabbing my boobs and "massaging" (read: man-handling them like he's tenderizing a steak) them, which causes me to slap his hands away and tell him to leave me alone.
This inevitably leads to another slurring rant about how I don't like him and his theoretically small wiener. Only this time, since my stalker (yes, the same stalker) tried to friend me AGAIN on myspace today, he now follows it up with, "You probably want Sylvester's wiener!! I know it!!"
UGH.
This is actually a perfect intro for what I want to talk about today. I knew that since CN and I have always gotten along extremely well (it's kind of unreal, actually, how well we get along) that ...
"No, I am not blogging lies about you," I just yelled to him.
Negative mumblings from the couch.
"Yes, I do love you," I continue. Please go back to talking to Paula Abdul, I think to myself.
Where was I? Oh yes. I knew it would go pretty well, this whole moving in together thing. I knew we would not have any major problems. And we don't. But the devil's in the details, you know? Here are some things I have learned about him since this whole moving thing has taken place:
1. He gives new meaning to the label "pack rat". He makes me look like an amateur. I told him I'd help him pack up his stuff/get rid of stuff he doesn't want anymore. So we go to Columbia for the weekend to get started on packing his stuff. 15 garbage bags full of trash later, he realizes he doesn't have as much stuff as he thought and I realize he hasn't thrown anything away since the 12th grade. Who keeps notebooks full of notes from college classes????!!
2. He is apparently incapable of closing a shower curtain when he's done taking a shower. This irks the crap out of me, because you might as well tell Mr. and Mrs. Mildew to just sit down and make themselves comfortable on your plastic...
"No I don't! Your wiener is not small and ugly! I love you very much and I am not telling lies about you! Your wiener smells fine!! I'm not telling anyone that!"
Ok, anyway, you get what I'm saying about the wet shower curtain.
3. Did you know that the phrases "resealable packaging" and "to prevent them from drying out" are lost on some people? Yup. My boyfriend is one of them. Baby wipes, cleaning wipes, you name it. Left open to the air. Worthless.
4. He owns approximately 587 towels. Somewhere there is a 20 year old son of a cotton industry magnate, driving his own BMW paid for by my boyfriend's towel collection.
5. Did I mention that he only uses the towel once before they are "dirty"? Which is funny to me, because he only uses them to dry off his squeaky clean body when he gets out of the shower, which will soon be full of mildew, thanks to his inability to understand the concept of fungi. If you are doing the math, this is at least 7 "dirty" towels per week from him. This makes him a complete freak, in my book.
I am not singling out my boyfriend, though. Oh yes. I am also dealing with some harsh reality of self-reflection:
1. The discussion we had about Absurd Overusage of Bath Towels and Their Laundering made me realize that I had no earthly idea how long it had been since I had pulled out a clean towel for myself. If he's the freek, I'm the gross one. I don't know which is worse.
2. I am a little more possessive -- ok, selfish-- about my stuff and my space than I thought. I *ahem* haven't made much room for him in the closet. But only about 10% of his wardrobe needs ironing, whereas about half of mine does. Ok, maybe a third. Yes, his clothes are on the floor of the bedroom right now. In semi-organized piles. Yes, I am a jerk. But I have a plan and a day off, so things will change for him soon. And CN went to grab some pop tarts the other day, and I said, "Nonononononono!!! Those are for work day breakfasts only! It's one of the few things I can eat at my desk!!!" -- Seriously? I am telling this to my 30 year old boyfriend, who not only washed all 587 of his "dirty" towels, but also my dirty clothes? AND folded them? I am telling him that he can't have a pop tart? Was I even listening to myself?
3. Why. The. Fuck. Do. I. Have. So many. Damn. Shoes. Jesus tapdancing Christ, did they reproduce in the U-Haul on the way down here? I remember looking at my old closet and thinking, "Gosh, 70 pairs isn't really that many. I could totally get more shoes. I have collection gaps, definitely." And now, I want to chuck them ALL because I am sick and tired of trying to store them creatively.
Ok, I'm sure there are more things I could add to this list, but let's face it, my self-critiquing skills are not exactly well-honed. And this is my blog. I told him to get his own, where he can bitch about how messy I am and how I don't seem to understand that expiration dates on food are for safety, not gambling with food, or as I like to call them, "adventures in eating". But he doesn't listen.
Besides, now it's time for me to give you the Ghetto Update.
Last Sunday afternoon, I was at work. (Yes, now I get to work occassional Sundays. I don't want to talk about it.) CN calls me. He was looking out the back window of our place, where he saw a group of teenagers sitting on our back stoop. This would only be mildly irritating, because it's just some harmless trespassing, except for the simple fact they were PASSING AROUND A HANDGUN. Which was the reason he was calling me.
"That's it. We are moving out. It's final. This is the last straw," he said.
I agreed, but questioned why he was talking to me and not a local 911 emergency dispatcher.
"Oh. Cuz they left already," he said.
GAH.
And to add rainbow colored candy sprinkles to this ice cream sundae from hell that is our living situation, Sammy has been bringing home fleas from our walks. So this place is a ticking time bomb, probably full of cazillions of little jumping, biting fuckers, marinating in their little wicked egg cocoon pods, counting down the moment until they get to microscopically turn our bodies into Swiss cheese.
Must. Move. Soon. Please. Send. Help.
Friday, January 09, 2009
A Victory and a Mystery
I almost took that last post down. I got home that day and thought, "I can't believe I just wrote a post about a stupid lost water bottle. My blog has reached a new low."
But then you guys had such great ideas!!! My readers are so helpful! Thanks, everybody. I think I might order one of the Rose Parade ones...or whatever that was. I'm also going to go back to the store where CN bought it and plead with the manager to carry them again. It's worth a shot.
Besides, as you will soon see, THIS is the post which will take my blog to new lows.
I had a small victory this morning when getting ready for work. My 2 weeks of diet and exercise were all worth it when I put on a pair of jeans I could not wear a month ago! YAY!!! Go me! Little things like that really keep me motivated to continue. Because let me tell ya, I am having a hard time cutting out all the sweets I normally eat. I am trying to be more aware of what I'm eating, because I find that when I'm not actively thinking about what goes in my mouth, I usually eat too much or a bunch of crap. And I'm really pushing myself at the gym -- I ran about 3 miles the other day, which is something I haven't done since I was a teenager. I was really proud of that. I am not quite sure how much I've lost, but it's about 2-4 pounds. Definitely a step in the right direction!!!
As you can probably tell, I don't have a ton of things going on right now. But I did experience something totally disgusting yesterday. So if you're eating while reading, I suggest you stop. Also, don't read this before lunch or anything, because it just about killed my lunch appetite yesterday.
I tell people all the time, "I can't believe CN puts up with me." This statement is usually met with amazement, as most people don't know how weird and/or stupid I can be at times. Allow me to enlighten you, dear readers.
I was walking Sammy, just like I always do on my lunch break. I take him down our street and go behind our little neighborhood. It's basically an empty lot behind our street, so he is free to be a dog back there. There's a little clearing where Sammy likes to do #2. I was walking him back there, when I saw it: a piece of clothing on the ground.
"Hmm, that wasn't here when I walked Sammy this morning," I thought.
Then I realized this meant that our resident homeless guy was probably back. He comes and goes, but we always know when he's around because one of us will spot him or there will suddenly be a lot of trash in the empty lot. Which makes sense -- it's not like he has access to a trashcan. He hangs out in the woods beyond the empty lot. My elderly neighbors and CN tell me not to go behind our street during these times, but I think he's harmless, so I just don't go as far back as I normally would, just to be safe. If he wanted to do something, he would have done it by now-- asked for food or money. I think he just wants to be left alone, because I've never even laid eyes on the guy. I try to have sympathy for people in unfortunate circumstances like that. I don't want to just jump to stereotypes, because I think a lot of homeless people are addicts, mentally ill or just down on their luck-- they have real problems. I believe most homeless people mean no harm at all, and are usually just misunderstood. I don't like it when people assume they are criminals or evil. That's just not fair. It's only out of sheer luck that I'm not one of them, so I try to keep that in mind.
As Sammy is sniffing around and marking his territory, I am studying the piece of clothing. What is odd to me is that it looks like it has been ripped off of someone's body. It was just thrown on the ground, and I didn't want to touch it, so it was kind of difficult to tell what it was exactly. Nearby, I saw a (presumably) empty box of cigarettes.
And something else.
Oh. My. Is that....what I think it is??? Because if it is, that is....totally effing disgusting. Dear God!
Out of shock, I backed away from it and turned around and went back home, much to the irritation of Sammy, who possesses what must be an endless supply of pee.
I decided to get CN and take him with me to look at it again. I needed a second opinion. So after work, I hurried home before the sun set to drag him with me. "What is it?" he asked.
"Just come here. I want to show it to you. I'm not sure what it is," I replied.
I took him to the back lot, over to the little clearing where Sammy usually does his business. I pointed. "Is that what I think that is?" I asked. "Because if it is, that is totally incredible and disgusting. I mean, look at it! It's massive. And in one straight piece. I've never seen anything like it!"
"I can't believe you made me stop working to come over here and look at a giant piece of shit, VB," CN said.
"So it is shit, then?" I asked, stupidly. "Because I wasn't totally sure if it was human or not. It could be from a big dog. A really big dog. I thought maybe it was some kind of food or something. You know, all that rain we had, I thought maybe it was dissolving food that just looked like shit," I continued.
"I can't believe you. I'm going back inside. This is ridiculous," he said, turning around to leave.
"No! Wait! Do you think it's from the homeless guy?" I asked, grabbing his arm.
"Of course it's from the homeless guy!" he said, frustrated. "I mean, look -- that's his underwear right there!" CN pointed to the mysterious article of clothing I'd spotted earlier. Aha! It was a pair of ripped boxers! Mystery solved.
"But it looks like he literally ripped it off his body," I said.
"Well, by the looks of it, I don't think he had a lot of time to waste," CN chuckled.
"No kidding. I've never seen anything like it! I'm going to go get the camera and take a picture of it," I said.
CN promptly talked me out of this idea. But I do kind of wish I could share it with you. It was at least a foot long. And in a perfect line, not in a pile like you'd think it would be. Which makes me wonder if he sort of walked it out, if you get what I'm saying. Too graphic? If so, I apologize. But this was one amazing turd, y'all. And really, he was not far at all from some of my neighbors' windows. Someone could have easily seen him squatting. But come to think of it, that supports CN's theory that this guy didn't have time to waste.
And the other discarded things sort of tell a story. I bet he had a nice smoke, and then thought, "Uh. Oh." He was in such a hurry, he had to literally rip his clothes off before it was too late. WOW.
I continued rambling on about The Amazing Poo, and CN reprimanded me: "Look, keep it down. I'm sure he doesn't want us standing around, talking about his poo. He's probably watching us right now. Listen, I don't want you coming back here anymore, do you understand?"
I nodded, staring at my feet and feeling ashamed.
As if being homeless isn't enough, this guy has to deal with strangers discussing his poos.
But it is a pretty impressive turd.
But then you guys had such great ideas!!! My readers are so helpful! Thanks, everybody. I think I might order one of the Rose Parade ones...or whatever that was. I'm also going to go back to the store where CN bought it and plead with the manager to carry them again. It's worth a shot.
Besides, as you will soon see, THIS is the post which will take my blog to new lows.
I had a small victory this morning when getting ready for work. My 2 weeks of diet and exercise were all worth it when I put on a pair of jeans I could not wear a month ago! YAY!!! Go me! Little things like that really keep me motivated to continue. Because let me tell ya, I am having a hard time cutting out all the sweets I normally eat. I am trying to be more aware of what I'm eating, because I find that when I'm not actively thinking about what goes in my mouth, I usually eat too much or a bunch of crap. And I'm really pushing myself at the gym -- I ran about 3 miles the other day, which is something I haven't done since I was a teenager. I was really proud of that. I am not quite sure how much I've lost, but it's about 2-4 pounds. Definitely a step in the right direction!!!
As you can probably tell, I don't have a ton of things going on right now. But I did experience something totally disgusting yesterday. So if you're eating while reading, I suggest you stop. Also, don't read this before lunch or anything, because it just about killed my lunch appetite yesterday.
I tell people all the time, "I can't believe CN puts up with me." This statement is usually met with amazement, as most people don't know how weird and/or stupid I can be at times. Allow me to enlighten you, dear readers.
I was walking Sammy, just like I always do on my lunch break. I take him down our street and go behind our little neighborhood. It's basically an empty lot behind our street, so he is free to be a dog back there. There's a little clearing where Sammy likes to do #2. I was walking him back there, when I saw it: a piece of clothing on the ground.
"Hmm, that wasn't here when I walked Sammy this morning," I thought.
Then I realized this meant that our resident homeless guy was probably back. He comes and goes, but we always know when he's around because one of us will spot him or there will suddenly be a lot of trash in the empty lot. Which makes sense -- it's not like he has access to a trashcan. He hangs out in the woods beyond the empty lot. My elderly neighbors and CN tell me not to go behind our street during these times, but I think he's harmless, so I just don't go as far back as I normally would, just to be safe. If he wanted to do something, he would have done it by now-- asked for food or money. I think he just wants to be left alone, because I've never even laid eyes on the guy. I try to have sympathy for people in unfortunate circumstances like that. I don't want to just jump to stereotypes, because I think a lot of homeless people are addicts, mentally ill or just down on their luck-- they have real problems. I believe most homeless people mean no harm at all, and are usually just misunderstood. I don't like it when people assume they are criminals or evil. That's just not fair. It's only out of sheer luck that I'm not one of them, so I try to keep that in mind.
As Sammy is sniffing around and marking his territory, I am studying the piece of clothing. What is odd to me is that it looks like it has been ripped off of someone's body. It was just thrown on the ground, and I didn't want to touch it, so it was kind of difficult to tell what it was exactly. Nearby, I saw a (presumably) empty box of cigarettes.
And something else.
Oh. My. Is that....what I think it is??? Because if it is, that is....totally effing disgusting. Dear God!
Out of shock, I backed away from it and turned around and went back home, much to the irritation of Sammy, who possesses what must be an endless supply of pee.
I decided to get CN and take him with me to look at it again. I needed a second opinion. So after work, I hurried home before the sun set to drag him with me. "What is it?" he asked.
"Just come here. I want to show it to you. I'm not sure what it is," I replied.
I took him to the back lot, over to the little clearing where Sammy usually does his business. I pointed. "Is that what I think that is?" I asked. "Because if it is, that is totally incredible and disgusting. I mean, look at it! It's massive. And in one straight piece. I've never seen anything like it!"
"I can't believe you made me stop working to come over here and look at a giant piece of shit, VB," CN said.
"So it is shit, then?" I asked, stupidly. "Because I wasn't totally sure if it was human or not. It could be from a big dog. A really big dog. I thought maybe it was some kind of food or something. You know, all that rain we had, I thought maybe it was dissolving food that just looked like shit," I continued.
"I can't believe you. I'm going back inside. This is ridiculous," he said, turning around to leave.
"No! Wait! Do you think it's from the homeless guy?" I asked, grabbing his arm.
"Of course it's from the homeless guy!" he said, frustrated. "I mean, look -- that's his underwear right there!" CN pointed to the mysterious article of clothing I'd spotted earlier. Aha! It was a pair of ripped boxers! Mystery solved.
"But it looks like he literally ripped it off his body," I said.
"Well, by the looks of it, I don't think he had a lot of time to waste," CN chuckled.
"No kidding. I've never seen anything like it! I'm going to go get the camera and take a picture of it," I said.
CN promptly talked me out of this idea. But I do kind of wish I could share it with you. It was at least a foot long. And in a perfect line, not in a pile like you'd think it would be. Which makes me wonder if he sort of walked it out, if you get what I'm saying. Too graphic? If so, I apologize. But this was one amazing turd, y'all. And really, he was not far at all from some of my neighbors' windows. Someone could have easily seen him squatting. But come to think of it, that supports CN's theory that this guy didn't have time to waste.
And the other discarded things sort of tell a story. I bet he had a nice smoke, and then thought, "Uh. Oh." He was in such a hurry, he had to literally rip his clothes off before it was too late. WOW.
I continued rambling on about The Amazing Poo, and CN reprimanded me: "Look, keep it down. I'm sure he doesn't want us standing around, talking about his poo. He's probably watching us right now. Listen, I don't want you coming back here anymore, do you understand?"
I nodded, staring at my feet and feeling ashamed.
As if being homeless isn't enough, this guy has to deal with strangers discussing his poos.
But it is a pretty impressive turd.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Now Taking Requests
I know things have been a little ho-hum around this blog lately. But never fear, dear readers, as I have a fun post today.
No, nothing really exciting happened. Unless you count the fact that I got out of going to The Czarina's for Thanksgiving. (YESSSSSSSS!!!, complete with a victory arm thrust) I was originally going to go up, because my most favoritest aunt was coming, too. But it turns out that she can't go, and since The Czarina feels guilty when I come home for Thanksgiving, she told me not to worry about driving up.
Gee, twist my arm.
I was really looking forward to your repeated and nagging comments about how fat I am. Or your oh-so-subtle digs implying I could find a better boyfriend. Or remind me of how miserable I am in my job. Because what are the holidays for, if not to make you feel bad about yourself? As much as I'd love to have a big plate, piled high with thick slabs of passive aggresiveness, steamed repressed emotions, a side of control freak stuffing, some you-are-a-fuck-up casserole and a glob of smashed happiness, smothered in guilt gravy and sprinkled with denial and delusion, I think I'll pass.
I swear to God, I love my mother. Just not these last few weeks. This bitterness is a temporary phase. I will go back to loving her shortly. Hopefully, before Christmas. That would be nice.
She feels like Thanksgiving weekend is too short of a time to drive 6 hours each way. "I know that I would not want to drive 6 hours to see you, only to turn around basically the next day and drive 6 hours back. I mean, that's a long weekend, where you spend 2 days driving," she always says. "So don't worry about it. Thanksgiving is not a big deal to me. I will just see you at Christmas."
Every year, when she says this, I think, "And THAT is why I live 6 hours away from you!"
For those of you who also have guilt-tripping, semi-manipulative mothers who try to warp your brain, right now you are thinking, "Um, VB, that sounds vaguely like a test. Methinks she is doing some reverse psychology on your ass, and she is secretly pissed at you for not driving up to see her."
To which I reply: It may very well be a test. But until she stops making me feel like a fat loser every time I visit her, I feel it's only fair that I get to, in turn, play dumb to her stupid little games and attempts at manipulating me. Fair enough?
Besides, now I am going with CN to have turkey day w/his family. And although they have issues of their own, as an outsider, I get to smile, pretend I don't know what's really going on and just ask people to please pass the mac n cheese. I offered to cook all the sides for Mrs. N (CN's Mom), since she's now back at work AND taking care of her sick husband. But she refused to hear of it, and told me that she only needed help in the pie department. So I am in charge of pies. Which is right up my alley, of course. (I'm going to make pumpkin and a pecan, in case you're curious.) I feel really good about helping her out, and wish I could do more for her and Mr. N.
In case you cannot tell by now, I have been a little pissy lately. Don't know why. Probably PMS. But I kind of like it. It's coming in really handy at the gym. CN has to bear the brunt of my ventings, lately, and he is quite amused. So don't sympathize with him. He uses my rantings as opportunities to make fun of me, which only irritates me further. If he weren't so damn cute and funny, he'd be on my shit list, too. But I can't stay mad at him, because he always leaves me laughing at myself. ARGH! That totally takes the wind out of my pissy little sails! I hate it when he does that!
On to the point of this post, which is this: Today, I was a good girl and tried to catch up on a lot of my blogs. So many of you have nice little comments from yours truly. But now I am ready to blog, too. The problem is, I have several potential blog topics for tomorrow. So I am taking requests. Which blog topic sounds most appealing to you?
#1: How The Czarina is trying her best to make Smurf feel like she is too stupid to get into college, and that Smurf should just let The Czarina pick her school for her and how I am doing everything in my power to remind Smurf that The Czarina sucks like that and that Smurf has excellent credentials and that since Smurf is going to be paying for the tuition herself (thank you, Federal School Loans), then she (NOT MOM) should get to pick where she goes to school.
Upside: I am pissy, especially at my mother, so this post would have lots of juicy venting.
Downside: It is depressing a little bit to think about how controlling my mother is.
#2: Holiday-related topic, whether Thanksgiving, shopping or Christmas related theme. Details TBA. Possibly a meme.
Upside: Who doesn't love some good holiday cheer? Memes are short entries, a good thing since we are all busy.
Downside: It's nothing to get excited about. Unless you really enjoy helping me come up with present ideas. Or hijacking memes for your own blogging pleasure.
#3: My new pothead neighbor
Upside: Pissy mood could lead to funny ranting. This topic also (vaguely) connected to Hot Neighbor, for those of you who remember this guy.
Downside: Ranting my go on too long to retain interest in my readers. New Pothead Neighbor is a real piece of work.
#4: The Story of My Last Irritating Encounter with E, My Recent Ex-Roommate, followed up by a rant/editorial about how pathetic certain women are and why.
Upside: Yay! More pissiness and bitching!!! Also, an ode to German cooking (trust me, it all fits into the story)
Downside: More pissiness and bitching. Nausea from the pathetic woman part.
#5: Ipod/computer confusion and/or issues.
Upside: First pick for my computer geek readers. Who I love. Because they might be able to help me with my ipod transfer. So I don't erase CN's library in the process. Helping me out with this little problem might get you on Santa's Good List.
Downside: YAAAAAAAAAAWN. Irritation with VB for picking a lame topic, wholly devoid of ranting.
*In New Yawkah accent, a la Cawfee Tawlk* So discuss amongst yourselves. Pick a topic, and I will extrapolate. I reserve the right to pick whatever topic I want. This is my blog, dammit, so you can suck it. (That is my new favorite thing to say. "SUCK IT!!!" I yell at CN when he makes fun of me.)
I only work a half day tomorrow, so if I don't hear from you or if you don't read this in time, I hope you have a very happy Thanksgiving. Remember to be thankful for everything you have: your job, your health, your family, your home, and yes, even your controlling and manipulative mother. Despite her delivery method, she really does love you and is only worried about you. She just shows it funny. Kind of like a drill sergeant would. Only with more guilt and snarky comments.
No, nothing really exciting happened. Unless you count the fact that I got out of going to The Czarina's for Thanksgiving. (YESSSSSSSS!!!, complete with a victory arm thrust) I was originally going to go up, because my most favoritest aunt was coming, too. But it turns out that she can't go, and since The Czarina feels guilty when I come home for Thanksgiving, she told me not to worry about driving up.
Gee, twist my arm.
I was really looking forward to your repeated and nagging comments about how fat I am. Or your oh-so-subtle digs implying I could find a better boyfriend. Or remind me of how miserable I am in my job. Because what are the holidays for, if not to make you feel bad about yourself? As much as I'd love to have a big plate, piled high with thick slabs of passive aggresiveness, steamed repressed emotions, a side of control freak stuffing, some you-are-a-fuck-up casserole and a glob of smashed happiness, smothered in guilt gravy and sprinkled with denial and delusion, I think I'll pass.
I swear to God, I love my mother. Just not these last few weeks. This bitterness is a temporary phase. I will go back to loving her shortly. Hopefully, before Christmas. That would be nice.
She feels like Thanksgiving weekend is too short of a time to drive 6 hours each way. "I know that I would not want to drive 6 hours to see you, only to turn around basically the next day and drive 6 hours back. I mean, that's a long weekend, where you spend 2 days driving," she always says. "So don't worry about it. Thanksgiving is not a big deal to me. I will just see you at Christmas."
Every year, when she says this, I think, "And THAT is why I live 6 hours away from you!"
For those of you who also have guilt-tripping, semi-manipulative mothers who try to warp your brain, right now you are thinking, "Um, VB, that sounds vaguely like a test. Methinks she is doing some reverse psychology on your ass, and she is secretly pissed at you for not driving up to see her."
To which I reply: It may very well be a test. But until she stops making me feel like a fat loser every time I visit her, I feel it's only fair that I get to, in turn, play dumb to her stupid little games and attempts at manipulating me. Fair enough?
Besides, now I am going with CN to have turkey day w/his family. And although they have issues of their own, as an outsider, I get to smile, pretend I don't know what's really going on and just ask people to please pass the mac n cheese. I offered to cook all the sides for Mrs. N (CN's Mom), since she's now back at work AND taking care of her sick husband. But she refused to hear of it, and told me that she only needed help in the pie department. So I am in charge of pies. Which is right up my alley, of course. (I'm going to make pumpkin and a pecan, in case you're curious.) I feel really good about helping her out, and wish I could do more for her and Mr. N.
In case you cannot tell by now, I have been a little pissy lately. Don't know why. Probably PMS. But I kind of like it. It's coming in really handy at the gym. CN has to bear the brunt of my ventings, lately, and he is quite amused. So don't sympathize with him. He uses my rantings as opportunities to make fun of me, which only irritates me further. If he weren't so damn cute and funny, he'd be on my shit list, too. But I can't stay mad at him, because he always leaves me laughing at myself. ARGH! That totally takes the wind out of my pissy little sails! I hate it when he does that!
On to the point of this post, which is this: Today, I was a good girl and tried to catch up on a lot of my blogs. So many of you have nice little comments from yours truly. But now I am ready to blog, too. The problem is, I have several potential blog topics for tomorrow. So I am taking requests. Which blog topic sounds most appealing to you?
#1: How The Czarina is trying her best to make Smurf feel like she is too stupid to get into college, and that Smurf should just let The Czarina pick her school for her and how I am doing everything in my power to remind Smurf that The Czarina sucks like that and that Smurf has excellent credentials and that since Smurf is going to be paying for the tuition herself (thank you, Federal School Loans), then she (NOT MOM) should get to pick where she goes to school.
Upside: I am pissy, especially at my mother, so this post would have lots of juicy venting.
Downside: It is depressing a little bit to think about how controlling my mother is.
#2: Holiday-related topic, whether Thanksgiving, shopping or Christmas related theme. Details TBA. Possibly a meme.
Upside: Who doesn't love some good holiday cheer? Memes are short entries, a good thing since we are all busy.
Downside: It's nothing to get excited about. Unless you really enjoy helping me come up with present ideas. Or hijacking memes for your own blogging pleasure.
#3: My new pothead neighbor
Upside: Pissy mood could lead to funny ranting. This topic also (vaguely) connected to Hot Neighbor, for those of you who remember this guy.
Downside: Ranting my go on too long to retain interest in my readers. New Pothead Neighbor is a real piece of work.
#4: The Story of My Last Irritating Encounter with E, My Recent Ex-Roommate, followed up by a rant/editorial about how pathetic certain women are and why.
Upside: Yay! More pissiness and bitching!!! Also, an ode to German cooking (trust me, it all fits into the story)
Downside: More pissiness and bitching. Nausea from the pathetic woman part.
#5: Ipod/computer confusion and/or issues.
Upside: First pick for my computer geek readers. Who I love. Because they might be able to help me with my ipod transfer. So I don't erase CN's library in the process. Helping me out with this little problem might get you on Santa's Good List.
Downside: YAAAAAAAAAAWN. Irritation with VB for picking a lame topic, wholly devoid of ranting.
*In New Yawkah accent, a la Cawfee Tawlk* So discuss amongst yourselves. Pick a topic, and I will extrapolate. I reserve the right to pick whatever topic I want. This is my blog, dammit, so you can suck it. (That is my new favorite thing to say. "SUCK IT!!!" I yell at CN when he makes fun of me.)
I only work a half day tomorrow, so if I don't hear from you or if you don't read this in time, I hope you have a very happy Thanksgiving. Remember to be thankful for everything you have: your job, your health, your family, your home, and yes, even your controlling and manipulative mother. Despite her delivery method, she really does love you and is only worried about you. She just shows it funny. Kind of like a drill sergeant would. Only with more guilt and snarky comments.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Friendships, Part 2
So the original post for today was going to discuss friendships, but it seems I've already written it and said pretty much everything I want to say.
It's just that I'm thinking about all of that stuff again lately. I think it's because this week, I was contacted by an old and dear friend I've missed terribly (anyone remember Lady Starfish? 25 pts for you if you do). She was my best friend for years. Even when she moved to Tennessee, we stayed close. Then one day, she didn't return my call. I waited a couple weeks, called again, and that call was not returned, either. I am pretty good at taking a hint, so I admitted defeat: the friendship is over. A few tears in my pillow, and I moved on. I tried not to take it personally. She is the first to admit that she's a crappy friend. This was about 2 years ago.
Every so often, I would think about her, and even try and call her. But to no avail. After a while, I realized I may not ever be able to get in touch with her again: she probably changed her phone number to avoid her psycho ex-husband, she changes jobs a lot and she got re-married to a guy whose last name I don't know. So I basically gave up.
So imagine my surprise when she called me the other day!
Well, she sort of called me. You know how if you hit the wrong button on your phone, you can accidentally call someone? Somehow, she did that to me. I was so excited. But when I picked up, all I could hear was a car radio. She must have been driving somewhere, and the phone was on the seat next to her. I could hear the radio loud and clear, and even hear her rolling the window up and down. But she could not hear me yelling her name. So I gave up. And hung up. And was very sad. So close, but so far. If only...
Today, the rollercoaster friendship started back up again. I got a text message from her, telling me she misses me and is going out of town but wants to catch up on Monday! She apologized for being gone so long! Yay! My friend is back! She must have seen that she accidentally called me.
But I am wary. I am gun-shy. I'm wondering if we can even be close friends again. It's not that I'm not aware that friendships can fluctuate or even wither away. But it is painful, sometimes. She's one of my favorite people, so for her to jump in and out makes me feel...disposable. B-list. Back burner. And it hurts. I think I am going to have to say something about this, when we talk on Monday. Oh, who are we kidding. I KNOW I will say something. I have a big mouth and I think out loud. So we will see. Right now, I am expecting her to not answer her phone on Monday......experience makes you a pessimist. *sigh*
I swear, it's like dating a guy or something. My emotions right now are the same as when an old ex-boyfriend would call me and want to get back together. I have all these questions, and old memories, and a longing to have that person in my life again. But at the same time, didn't we already try this? How can I trust them again? How do I know this will be worth my emotional and time investment? Do I only give it a half-assed try, in order to protect myself? Or should I settle in for the time being, grateful for every moment? Maybe I should keep up some walls for a while. It's only fair, since I've been put on the back burner all this time.
Right now, I am wary. But excited.
Also this week, I have been dealing with the flip side of this situation. There's a girl I used to be friends with. She's very nice, but not very fun. And she makes (what are, in my opinion) stupid decisions. She has a tendency to be negative. A wet blanket. An Eeyore. Looking back, I am surprised I could even tolerate being around her for as long as I was. But when your schedules mesh well, and you can't really come up with a bad reason to stop being someone's friend...you find yourself sort of stuck with them....
Until you can't take it anymore and realize you'd rather just be alone. Which is what happened to me about 2 years ago. So I faded away. I didn't always return calls, and if I did, I cut them short. I cancelled plans, or always had some kind of an excuse. I was hoping this would do the trick -- she would get the hint and move on.
Only, she hasn't. About every 6 months, I will get an email or a phone call. I don't return them, of course. I thought she was done, until she called me. And emailed me. And text messaged me. All in the same day. That day is today.
She is having a big graduation party and wants me to go. While I applaud her achievement, I have ZERO desire to go to the party. She will corner me and expect an explanation for my long absence. Or worse, act like it never happened. The other girls from that "group" will also be there. I have also blown them off for the same reasons. The food might be good, but the party will be lame. It will be awkward, at best. I know everyone will want to know "where I've been" because I'm a "stranger". Which, if you are a woman, you know is just a thin veil for, "WTF? I thought you were my friend!" The best thing I can hope for is that they are all pissed at me, and will refuse to speak to me. This would actually be the best thing to happen, if I go. But do I want to go to a party like that? Um, no.
And yet, I cannot bring myself to reply to any of her attempts at contacting me. What do I say?? I can't go to your party, which isn't until mid-December? Congratulations on working your ass off for the last 3 years, but I can't make it? I don't want to be your friend anymore? Please stop calling me? I'd love to, but I have to clean my house that day?
Any of these replies will either hurt her feelings or open the door for further contact. Neither of which are viable options, from what I can see.
The thought of talking to her fills me with dread and guilt. At the same time, I am even growing a little irritated at her inability to just let sleeping dogs lie. Get. The. Hint. You know?
It's so funny, because I NEVER had these feelings when I dumped a boyfriend. I felt relief. I was happy to move on. If they called me, my attitude was more along the lines of, "WTF do you want?" rather than, "Shit. I am an asshole." -- which is how I feel right now, staring at my phone and its voicemail message from Miss Eeyore.
It's a million times more difficult to blow off a friend than a boyfriend. I can't figure out why. You'd think it'd be worse with the guy -- after all, you have probably seen each other naked. There's an intimacy there. But for some reason, loyalty seems to trump compatibility in friendships. It's sort of the other way around when romance is involved. Look at all the men who have friends from childhood, and despite their obvious differences, they still hang out. Guys don't seem to care. It's like loyalty is the #1 rule. Even if the guy is a lame-o. I don't get this. You can call me selfish, but I think life is too short to spend it with people who bore the shit out of you.
Perhaps it's confusing, because I don't hate her guts or anything. She's still on my myspace friends list. I just don't want to be an active friend to her. If I run into her in the grocery store, fine. Let's have a friendly chat. Catch up. But I do not want to hang out with her over a meal or even a drink. I don't miss her or regret ending the friendship.
And I don't think there's any way to tell someone that without hurting their feelings. So my phone stays where it is, next to me on my desk.
It's so strange, being on both sides of the same coin at the same time. I am excited! No, wait. I'm an asshole. I can't wait to catch up! Why won't you leave me alone? Please remember to call me! Ugh, stop calling me!
With Miss Eeyore, I feel guilt and shame. And empathy. Which only makes the guilt worse. I know exactly how this must make her feel. The confusion. The pain.
With Lady Starfish, I have trust issues. I am hurt. I am resentful. Yet understanding. Because I have been blowing someone off for 2 years, myself. I also worry that I am her Miss Eeyore, and I have finally browbeaten her into calling me.
Is this karma at work? Some surreal metaphor? Is the universe trying to teach me something?
Ugh. Friendships are hard. What should I do?
It's just that I'm thinking about all of that stuff again lately. I think it's because this week, I was contacted by an old and dear friend I've missed terribly (anyone remember Lady Starfish? 25 pts for you if you do). She was my best friend for years. Even when she moved to Tennessee, we stayed close. Then one day, she didn't return my call. I waited a couple weeks, called again, and that call was not returned, either. I am pretty good at taking a hint, so I admitted defeat: the friendship is over. A few tears in my pillow, and I moved on. I tried not to take it personally. She is the first to admit that she's a crappy friend. This was about 2 years ago.
Every so often, I would think about her, and even try and call her. But to no avail. After a while, I realized I may not ever be able to get in touch with her again: she probably changed her phone number to avoid her psycho ex-husband, she changes jobs a lot and she got re-married to a guy whose last name I don't know. So I basically gave up.
So imagine my surprise when she called me the other day!
Well, she sort of called me. You know how if you hit the wrong button on your phone, you can accidentally call someone? Somehow, she did that to me. I was so excited. But when I picked up, all I could hear was a car radio. She must have been driving somewhere, and the phone was on the seat next to her. I could hear the radio loud and clear, and even hear her rolling the window up and down. But she could not hear me yelling her name. So I gave up. And hung up. And was very sad. So close, but so far. If only...
Today, the rollercoaster friendship started back up again. I got a text message from her, telling me she misses me and is going out of town but wants to catch up on Monday! She apologized for being gone so long! Yay! My friend is back! She must have seen that she accidentally called me.
But I am wary. I am gun-shy. I'm wondering if we can even be close friends again. It's not that I'm not aware that friendships can fluctuate or even wither away. But it is painful, sometimes. She's one of my favorite people, so for her to jump in and out makes me feel...disposable. B-list. Back burner. And it hurts. I think I am going to have to say something about this, when we talk on Monday. Oh, who are we kidding. I KNOW I will say something. I have a big mouth and I think out loud. So we will see. Right now, I am expecting her to not answer her phone on Monday......experience makes you a pessimist. *sigh*
I swear, it's like dating a guy or something. My emotions right now are the same as when an old ex-boyfriend would call me and want to get back together. I have all these questions, and old memories, and a longing to have that person in my life again. But at the same time, didn't we already try this? How can I trust them again? How do I know this will be worth my emotional and time investment? Do I only give it a half-assed try, in order to protect myself? Or should I settle in for the time being, grateful for every moment? Maybe I should keep up some walls for a while. It's only fair, since I've been put on the back burner all this time.
Right now, I am wary. But excited.
Also this week, I have been dealing with the flip side of this situation. There's a girl I used to be friends with. She's very nice, but not very fun. And she makes (what are, in my opinion) stupid decisions. She has a tendency to be negative. A wet blanket. An Eeyore. Looking back, I am surprised I could even tolerate being around her for as long as I was. But when your schedules mesh well, and you can't really come up with a bad reason to stop being someone's friend...you find yourself sort of stuck with them....
Until you can't take it anymore and realize you'd rather just be alone. Which is what happened to me about 2 years ago. So I faded away. I didn't always return calls, and if I did, I cut them short. I cancelled plans, or always had some kind of an excuse. I was hoping this would do the trick -- she would get the hint and move on.
Only, she hasn't. About every 6 months, I will get an email or a phone call. I don't return them, of course. I thought she was done, until she called me. And emailed me. And text messaged me. All in the same day. That day is today.
She is having a big graduation party and wants me to go. While I applaud her achievement, I have ZERO desire to go to the party. She will corner me and expect an explanation for my long absence. Or worse, act like it never happened. The other girls from that "group" will also be there. I have also blown them off for the same reasons. The food might be good, but the party will be lame. It will be awkward, at best. I know everyone will want to know "where I've been" because I'm a "stranger". Which, if you are a woman, you know is just a thin veil for, "WTF? I thought you were my friend!" The best thing I can hope for is that they are all pissed at me, and will refuse to speak to me. This would actually be the best thing to happen, if I go. But do I want to go to a party like that? Um, no.
And yet, I cannot bring myself to reply to any of her attempts at contacting me. What do I say?? I can't go to your party, which isn't until mid-December? Congratulations on working your ass off for the last 3 years, but I can't make it? I don't want to be your friend anymore? Please stop calling me? I'd love to, but I have to clean my house that day?
Any of these replies will either hurt her feelings or open the door for further contact. Neither of which are viable options, from what I can see.
The thought of talking to her fills me with dread and guilt. At the same time, I am even growing a little irritated at her inability to just let sleeping dogs lie. Get. The. Hint. You know?
It's so funny, because I NEVER had these feelings when I dumped a boyfriend. I felt relief. I was happy to move on. If they called me, my attitude was more along the lines of, "WTF do you want?" rather than, "Shit. I am an asshole." -- which is how I feel right now, staring at my phone and its voicemail message from Miss Eeyore.
It's a million times more difficult to blow off a friend than a boyfriend. I can't figure out why. You'd think it'd be worse with the guy -- after all, you have probably seen each other naked. There's an intimacy there. But for some reason, loyalty seems to trump compatibility in friendships. It's sort of the other way around when romance is involved. Look at all the men who have friends from childhood, and despite their obvious differences, they still hang out. Guys don't seem to care. It's like loyalty is the #1 rule. Even if the guy is a lame-o. I don't get this. You can call me selfish, but I think life is too short to spend it with people who bore the shit out of you.
Perhaps it's confusing, because I don't hate her guts or anything. She's still on my myspace friends list. I just don't want to be an active friend to her. If I run into her in the grocery store, fine. Let's have a friendly chat. Catch up. But I do not want to hang out with her over a meal or even a drink. I don't miss her or regret ending the friendship.
And I don't think there's any way to tell someone that without hurting their feelings. So my phone stays where it is, next to me on my desk.
It's so strange, being on both sides of the same coin at the same time. I am excited! No, wait. I'm an asshole. I can't wait to catch up! Why won't you leave me alone? Please remember to call me! Ugh, stop calling me!
With Miss Eeyore, I feel guilt and shame. And empathy. Which only makes the guilt worse. I know exactly how this must make her feel. The confusion. The pain.
With Lady Starfish, I have trust issues. I am hurt. I am resentful. Yet understanding. Because I have been blowing someone off for 2 years, myself. I also worry that I am her Miss Eeyore, and I have finally browbeaten her into calling me.
Is this karma at work? Some surreal metaphor? Is the universe trying to teach me something?
Ugh. Friendships are hard. What should I do?
Monday, August 25, 2008
Monday, Monday
Well, it's certainly Monday. Let's see. Where should I begin? I think I will ease into it with something funny.
I have told you how my little sister, Smurf, is a horrible driver. Well, despite a year's worth of practice, involving a learner's permit, driver's ed and much practicing with family members, she is no better today than she was the first time she got behind the wheel. Somehow, this did not stop the Virginia Department of Motor Vehicles from issuing her a driver's license last month. Do not ask me how on earth she passed the driving test, but she did. So she got her license in mid-July. That was only a few weeks ago. She now has THREE tickets. She got them ALL on the same day: speeding, running a stop sign and driving on the wrong side of the road. "It was only for a second," she told me. "And there was no one else on the road." I told her that apparently, there was someone else on the road. She says she's learned her lesson, but I doubt that will be enough to convince the judge that he should not revoke her driver's license, which is probably what he will do. My poor mother and her insurance rates....yeesh.
This weekend, CN's dad had to go back to the hospital again. "Do you want to go with me to visit him?" CN asked me Saturday morning. I asked CN why he was in the hospital. CN was pretty vague. So I declined because...
1. The request was phrased in a way that made it seem optional.
2. It was my weekend off.
3. The hospital was an hour away.
4. I was having a dinner party that night for my girlfriends, and needed to prepare.
5. When my dad was sick, he was in the hospital a dozen times before things got serious.
By now, you have probably realized that "No" was the wrong answer. Unfortunately, I am not nearly as bright as my readers. Because I should have realized that CN isn't the kind of person who would say, "Look, I am really worried, and I really want you to come with me." Because if he had said that, then yes, I would have dropped everything and gone with him. But I am dense, and he downplays things, which leads to misunderstandings and people being upset. This is not the first time he has downplayed something important, and I was too stupid to figure it out.
By Sunday morning, he was pretty angry with me, and I could tell something was wrong. He told me I had really let him down and that he was really worried about his dad. I instantly felt like a candidate for Worst Girlfriend Ever, apologized and explained my reasoning to him. He agreed that he should have explained things better, and I canceled all my Sunday plans and went down with him to the hospital yesterday.
Not long after we got to the hospital, CN's mom took us to lunch, where she explained that CN's dad had been acting funny lately, which was part of the reason she had put him back in the hospital. She just had a hunch something wasn't right. So the doctor gave CN's dad a MRI (or was it a CT scan?) and we were waiting to hear the results. The doctor called when we got back from lunch. And the news was not good. CN's dad has prostate cancer that has metasticized all over his body. And the MRI showed that he now has lesions in his brain and they are bleeding. So he's being put back on radiation again today. It's not looking so hot. Because the doctors have actually had him on a break from the chemo/radiation treatments because his body can't really handle too much more. So I don't have a good feeling about all of this.
Obviously, I won't be skipping any more hospital visits, either. I am thinking I should maybe quit my Dildo's job, so I will have more free time to go with him to the hospital.
Then, at 2am last night, I was awakened by my roommate, E, again. She and her boyf broke up (again) and so instead of being at his house all the time, she's now at my house all the time. Which would be fine, except for the fact that she has insomnia, so she gets up all through the night, which wakes me up. She has woken me up just about every night for the last 2 weeks. It's getting old.
Anyway, at 2am last night, I awoke to the sound of her giggling. I got up to shut the door to my room, only to realize that there was a 2nd voice -- a man's voice -- giggling with her. In the shower.
"Great," I thought.
I was already upset about CN's dad and I had to get up early this morning for work. So I had a difficult time falling back asleep. I tossed and turned for at least an hour, furious at her inconsideration. When I got up this morning, I noticed that this random guy's car was still outside. This kind of annoyed me. I mean, if you want to hook up with random guys, fine. But do it on the weekend and make sure he's gone by the morning, you know?
I started to get ready for work, and as I'm getting ready, I hear my roommate quietly slip out and leave. That's unusual for her -- she usually asks me if her outfit looks okay every morning. And I didn't hear a man's footsteps following her. Hmmm.
I finished getting ready, trying to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. But when I went to leave, I saw that the random guy's car was still parked outside, and my roommate was gone!
I. Was. Furious.
I threw open the door to her room and woke up Mr. Random.
"You have to leave. Now." I said, fuming.
"Ok," he replied, groggily.
I just stood there, waiting, with my hand on my hip, as he shuffled around, trying to get dressed.
"Let's go! I'm late for work! I'm leaving and you can't be here!" I yelled.
"It's not what it looks like. E and I have known each other for years," he said, trying to explain.
"Yesss," I hissed. "But I don't know who the fuck you are, and this is MY house, so you have to get the fuck out of my house. NOW."
Apparently, I communicated my rage very clearly, because he left the house in nothing but his boxer shorts! He carried the rest of his stuff and didn't even put his shoes on fully! LOL
"Did you see his wiener?" CN asked me later.
"No. And he's lucky, because I would have ripped it off!!!" I replied.
E and I are going to have a loooooong chat this afternoon, when I get home from work.
Wow. I was a total bitch this weekend, huh?
I have told you how my little sister, Smurf, is a horrible driver. Well, despite a year's worth of practice, involving a learner's permit, driver's ed and much practicing with family members, she is no better today than she was the first time she got behind the wheel. Somehow, this did not stop the Virginia Department of Motor Vehicles from issuing her a driver's license last month. Do not ask me how on earth she passed the driving test, but she did. So she got her license in mid-July. That was only a few weeks ago. She now has THREE tickets. She got them ALL on the same day: speeding, running a stop sign and driving on the wrong side of the road. "It was only for a second," she told me. "And there was no one else on the road." I told her that apparently, there was someone else on the road. She says she's learned her lesson, but I doubt that will be enough to convince the judge that he should not revoke her driver's license, which is probably what he will do. My poor mother and her insurance rates....yeesh.
This weekend, CN's dad had to go back to the hospital again. "Do you want to go with me to visit him?" CN asked me Saturday morning. I asked CN why he was in the hospital. CN was pretty vague. So I declined because...
1. The request was phrased in a way that made it seem optional.
2. It was my weekend off.
3. The hospital was an hour away.
4. I was having a dinner party that night for my girlfriends, and needed to prepare.
5. When my dad was sick, he was in the hospital a dozen times before things got serious.
By now, you have probably realized that "No" was the wrong answer. Unfortunately, I am not nearly as bright as my readers. Because I should have realized that CN isn't the kind of person who would say, "Look, I am really worried, and I really want you to come with me." Because if he had said that, then yes, I would have dropped everything and gone with him. But I am dense, and he downplays things, which leads to misunderstandings and people being upset. This is not the first time he has downplayed something important, and I was too stupid to figure it out.
By Sunday morning, he was pretty angry with me, and I could tell something was wrong. He told me I had really let him down and that he was really worried about his dad. I instantly felt like a candidate for Worst Girlfriend Ever, apologized and explained my reasoning to him. He agreed that he should have explained things better, and I canceled all my Sunday plans and went down with him to the hospital yesterday.
Not long after we got to the hospital, CN's mom took us to lunch, where she explained that CN's dad had been acting funny lately, which was part of the reason she had put him back in the hospital. She just had a hunch something wasn't right. So the doctor gave CN's dad a MRI (or was it a CT scan?) and we were waiting to hear the results. The doctor called when we got back from lunch. And the news was not good. CN's dad has prostate cancer that has metasticized all over his body. And the MRI showed that he now has lesions in his brain and they are bleeding. So he's being put back on radiation again today. It's not looking so hot. Because the doctors have actually had him on a break from the chemo/radiation treatments because his body can't really handle too much more. So I don't have a good feeling about all of this.
Obviously, I won't be skipping any more hospital visits, either. I am thinking I should maybe quit my Dildo's job, so I will have more free time to go with him to the hospital.
Then, at 2am last night, I was awakened by my roommate, E, again. She and her boyf broke up (again) and so instead of being at his house all the time, she's now at my house all the time. Which would be fine, except for the fact that she has insomnia, so she gets up all through the night, which wakes me up. She has woken me up just about every night for the last 2 weeks. It's getting old.
Anyway, at 2am last night, I awoke to the sound of her giggling. I got up to shut the door to my room, only to realize that there was a 2nd voice -- a man's voice -- giggling with her. In the shower.
"Great," I thought.
I was already upset about CN's dad and I had to get up early this morning for work. So I had a difficult time falling back asleep. I tossed and turned for at least an hour, furious at her inconsideration. When I got up this morning, I noticed that this random guy's car was still outside. This kind of annoyed me. I mean, if you want to hook up with random guys, fine. But do it on the weekend and make sure he's gone by the morning, you know?
I started to get ready for work, and as I'm getting ready, I hear my roommate quietly slip out and leave. That's unusual for her -- she usually asks me if her outfit looks okay every morning. And I didn't hear a man's footsteps following her. Hmmm.
I finished getting ready, trying to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. But when I went to leave, I saw that the random guy's car was still parked outside, and my roommate was gone!
I. Was. Furious.
I threw open the door to her room and woke up Mr. Random.
"You have to leave. Now." I said, fuming.
"Ok," he replied, groggily.
I just stood there, waiting, with my hand on my hip, as he shuffled around, trying to get dressed.
"Let's go! I'm late for work! I'm leaving and you can't be here!" I yelled.
"It's not what it looks like. E and I have known each other for years," he said, trying to explain.
"Yesss," I hissed. "But I don't know who the fuck you are, and this is MY house, so you have to get the fuck out of my house. NOW."
Apparently, I communicated my rage very clearly, because he left the house in nothing but his boxer shorts! He carried the rest of his stuff and didn't even put his shoes on fully! LOL
"Did you see his wiener?" CN asked me later.
"No. And he's lucky, because I would have ripped it off!!!" I replied.
E and I are going to have a loooooong chat this afternoon, when I get home from work.
Wow. I was a total bitch this weekend, huh?
Friday, May 30, 2008
What's Wrong with This Picture?
I know I don't talk about work a whole lot on here, because I don't want to get dooced.
But this was too good not to share. And I am providing no identifying characteristics of the library where I work.
I would like to preface this post with the following: I like my coworkers. The vast majority of them are very pleasant and nice people. The lady I mention in this post is one of the pleasant and nice ones. So I'm going to try and not make fun of her on here today, because she's always been nice to me. But we have been laughing about the following all afternoon, because she really had a "D'oh!" moment. Here goes.
Ok, when you go to any library, sometimes things are on hold at the desk. These are called "reserves". Reserve items cannot leave the library, but they can be checked out for in-library use. A couple days ago, we had a teacher come in and ask us to place a book on reserve here at our library. She had just bought it, it was very expensive and she didn't want the students to take it home -- that way, all her students could use it. So categorizing this book as a reserve book made sense. The book was brand-new and came with little supplement booklets, and they are all shrink-wrapped together.
Now, in order to check anything out to students, books and other things need to be entered into our computer system so that we can keep track of them. Even reserve items need to be entered into the computer system. During this process, each item receives its own unique barcode, which is scanned any time someone uses it. That way, when someone checks it out, we scan the little barcode, and the computer knows who has it, when it's due, etc.
Well, this coworker of mine ended up putting this new book on reserve. These photos show what it looked like when she was done. Anyone see anything wrong with this picture????
The little red sticker says "Library Use Only". Can you see what's wrong yet?
Ok, this picture really shows you where she stuck the label for the class, so we will know which book the students need. (Oh! I just realized that is my arm in the photo!) See any problems now?
Finally, here is the barcode that needs to be scanned any time someone checks it out.....are you seeing why we are giggling about this? Yeah. We're hoping that maybe she was just distracted when she was labeling the book.......tee hee.
Maybe the students can use osmosis to learn what's in the book? Or perhaps only psychic students can use it? Or Superman? I guess they could always just use it as a paperweight.
Anyway, I want to see what happens when she goes to check it out to someone. I want to see what the student says. And I really want to see what she says when they bring it back to her!
Have a good weekend everyone.
But this was too good not to share. And I am providing no identifying characteristics of the library where I work.
I would like to preface this post with the following: I like my coworkers. The vast majority of them are very pleasant and nice people. The lady I mention in this post is one of the pleasant and nice ones. So I'm going to try and not make fun of her on here today, because she's always been nice to me. But we have been laughing about the following all afternoon, because she really had a "D'oh!" moment. Here goes.
Ok, when you go to any library, sometimes things are on hold at the desk. These are called "reserves". Reserve items cannot leave the library, but they can be checked out for in-library use. A couple days ago, we had a teacher come in and ask us to place a book on reserve here at our library. She had just bought it, it was very expensive and she didn't want the students to take it home -- that way, all her students could use it. So categorizing this book as a reserve book made sense. The book was brand-new and came with little supplement booklets, and they are all shrink-wrapped together.
Now, in order to check anything out to students, books and other things need to be entered into our computer system so that we can keep track of them. Even reserve items need to be entered into the computer system. During this process, each item receives its own unique barcode, which is scanned any time someone uses it. That way, when someone checks it out, we scan the little barcode, and the computer knows who has it, when it's due, etc.
Well, this coworker of mine ended up putting this new book on reserve. These photos show what it looked like when she was done. Anyone see anything wrong with this picture????
The little red sticker says "Library Use Only". Can you see what's wrong yet?
Ok, this picture really shows you where she stuck the label for the class, so we will know which book the students need. (Oh! I just realized that is my arm in the photo!) See any problems now?
Finally, here is the barcode that needs to be scanned any time someone checks it out.....are you seeing why we are giggling about this? Yeah. We're hoping that maybe she was just distracted when she was labeling the book.......tee hee.
Maybe the students can use osmosis to learn what's in the book? Or perhaps only psychic students can use it? Or Superman? I guess they could always just use it as a paperweight.Anyway, I want to see what happens when she goes to check it out to someone. I want to see what the student says. And I really want to see what she says when they bring it back to her!
Have a good weekend everyone.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Awkwardness
For the first time in my whole life, I am going to a significant other's parents' house for a holiday.
Yes, I am a loser. But that's not what this post is about.
And no, I am not freaking out about anything major. I have already met CN's parents, and I like them. And they like me. So that is good. I'm just nervous about the little stuff. The Czarina is not helping, either. The other evening, she called me.
VB: Hello?
C: Oh! It's loud. Are you out?
VB: Yes, Mom, I'm in a bar. What's up?
C: Are you with CN?
VB: Yes. We are eating dinner.
C: Um, ok. I just wanted to tell you something while I was thinking about it, because otherwise I'll forget.
VB: Ok. Shoot.
C: You're still going to CN's parents' house for Thanksgiving, right?
VB: Right. Is that ok?
C: Oh, sure, honey! That's totally fine. I know it's a pain to drive all the way up here, only to turn around two days later. You can just come home at Christmas.
VB: Ok. I'm glad you're not upset.
C: Oh, no. I just wanted to give you some advice.
VB: Ok.
C: When you go down there with CN, make sure you don't call him "Sweetie" or anything in front of his mother.
VB: [Trying not to laugh] I'm sorry. It's kind of loud in here. What did you say?
C: I just wanted to tell you not to call CN any little nicknames in front of his mother. It comes off as possessive.
VB: [Realizing there is no point in debating the validity of this statement, and it would be better to just go with it, because apparently, mother has smoked crack before picking up the phone.] Oh. Ok. Thanks, Mom!
C: You're welcome. I'll let you get back to your dinner. Love ya!
VB: Love you, too. Bye, Mom.
Ok, is anyone else totally confused about this advice? Because that was probably the strangest piece of advice she has EVER given to me. And I'm having a VERY hard time believing it. It sounds totally absurd. Who gives a fart if I call him "Schmoopie" or "Sugar Pie" or even "Love Bunny" in front of his mom?
I mean, do parents care about stuff like that? Or is my mother crazy? Because normally, her advice is very old-fashioned, which I can understand. Usually, I can see her point. It's never just plain crazy. This just made no sense to me at all. I could understand maybe, if his mother didn't like me, but she does. So I fail to see the meaning and importance of this advice. It's making me wonder if The Czarina is suffering from early-onset senility.
Maybe I'm just naive? Can anyone shed some light on this for me?
Funny side note: Right after I got off the phone with The Czarina, CN saw a friend of his in the bar. He introduced me, and the three of us started talking. Then the friend made a joke about how CN and I are going to have babies in "about 5 years". I laughed it off, but CN got TOTALLY flustered! It was so funny. I have never seen someone get so wigged out about a joke before in my life! He acted funny for the rest of the evening, and just couldn't seem to let it roll off his back. I mean, the joke put us on the spot, but there was no harm in it. I don't know why it bothered him so much. Can anyone explain this puzzling male behavior to me?
Ok, back to my Turkey Day Stress.
As if my mother's strange advice isn't making me TOO ill at ease, I have a bunch of other stuff that is stressing me out about Thanksgiving this year. My inner monologue goes something like this:
What if his parents' house smells funny? What if I don't like his mom's cooking? What if I have to meet other members of the family and they hate me? What if I get down there and his family is TOTALLY different than mine and we just don't mesh well? What if they get all dressed up for Thanksgiving?
(My family wears sweatshirts and jeans, because the Big Meal is always served mid-football marathon, and we are NOT about to wear church clothes to watch football games on tv!)
*Note to self: ask CN about appropriate Thanksgiving attire*
What if I have to go to church with them? I am weird about other people's churches. I never know where to go or what to do, and often feel guilty about "cheating". Which, at this point, is kind of stupid, because I have not been to church in about a year. I guess it's because I was raised Catholic. Although I'm not Catholic anymore, I still view my attending "other" churches as being sacriligious. I'm weird, I know. Heck, at this point, I could use ANY church! LOL I'm a heathen!
What if they don't like the pies I'm making? I will ruin Thanksgiving! (I am making a sweet potato pie, and I've never made one before. I'm worried I will mess it up.)
What if they eat weird food for Thanksgiving? Like squash or chitlins or goose or something? What if I don't want to eat anything except my own pies?
What if I want to watch different football games than they do? Or worse -- what if they don't watch the football games at all!?
What if I get homesick while I'm there and I start crying? (To make things really interesting, I am all hormonal and PMSy -- which means I cry about anything.) Or worse, what if Cranky, PMSy VB comes out and I bite someone's head off?! EEEK!!
What if something really awkward happens? Someone could bring up a personal topic, or CN and I could get into a fight. Or his parents could turn into MY parents, lecturing us to death. Ugh.
What if I get sick when I'm there? What if we start playing board games, like we do at The Czarina's, and I turn into Obnoxious Board Game VB, who plays for blood and screams at people?
Ugh. Ok, change of subject. I can feel my stomach twisting up. I need to chill, don't I? I'm being ridiculous. Everything will be fine. I could always just pop a vicodin -- Lord knows that always chills me out.
I'm kidding.
*Note to self: get prescription for Xanax.*
Does anyone have any advice for me? Because I've never done this before, and all I am imagining is that I will be like Sarah Jessica Parker's character in The Family Stone and it will be horrible horrible horrible. (By the way, if you have never seen that movie, it is hilarious!) My Overactive Imagination is having a field day right now. Pessimistically Paranoid is screaming and running around like a chicken with its head cut off.
Clearly, I need to talk to CN and get him to calm me the eff down. I swear, guys, this is the hormones talking. They make me crazy. Sorry if I'm being TMI today...
Why did I quit smoking again??? Gah, I'd kill for one right now.
So any advice is welcome. Tales of Warning are good, too. And if you have any funny or embarrassing stories, please share those, as well.
But mainly, I'm looking for an explanation of my mother's weird advice. Seriously, WTF??!
Yes, I am a loser. But that's not what this post is about.
And no, I am not freaking out about anything major. I have already met CN's parents, and I like them. And they like me. So that is good. I'm just nervous about the little stuff. The Czarina is not helping, either. The other evening, she called me.
VB: Hello?
C: Oh! It's loud. Are you out?
VB: Yes, Mom, I'm in a bar. What's up?
C: Are you with CN?
VB: Yes. We are eating dinner.
C: Um, ok. I just wanted to tell you something while I was thinking about it, because otherwise I'll forget.
VB: Ok. Shoot.
C: You're still going to CN's parents' house for Thanksgiving, right?
VB: Right. Is that ok?
C: Oh, sure, honey! That's totally fine. I know it's a pain to drive all the way up here, only to turn around two days later. You can just come home at Christmas.
VB: Ok. I'm glad you're not upset.
C: Oh, no. I just wanted to give you some advice.
VB: Ok.
C: When you go down there with CN, make sure you don't call him "Sweetie" or anything in front of his mother.
VB: [Trying not to laugh] I'm sorry. It's kind of loud in here. What did you say?
C: I just wanted to tell you not to call CN any little nicknames in front of his mother. It comes off as possessive.
VB: [Realizing there is no point in debating the validity of this statement, and it would be better to just go with it, because apparently, mother has smoked crack before picking up the phone.] Oh. Ok. Thanks, Mom!
C: You're welcome. I'll let you get back to your dinner. Love ya!
VB: Love you, too. Bye, Mom.
Ok, is anyone else totally confused about this advice? Because that was probably the strangest piece of advice she has EVER given to me. And I'm having a VERY hard time believing it. It sounds totally absurd. Who gives a fart if I call him "Schmoopie" or "Sugar Pie" or even "Love Bunny" in front of his mom?
I mean, do parents care about stuff like that? Or is my mother crazy? Because normally, her advice is very old-fashioned, which I can understand. Usually, I can see her point. It's never just plain crazy. This just made no sense to me at all. I could understand maybe, if his mother didn't like me, but she does. So I fail to see the meaning and importance of this advice. It's making me wonder if The Czarina is suffering from early-onset senility.
Maybe I'm just naive? Can anyone shed some light on this for me?
Funny side note: Right after I got off the phone with The Czarina, CN saw a friend of his in the bar. He introduced me, and the three of us started talking. Then the friend made a joke about how CN and I are going to have babies in "about 5 years". I laughed it off, but CN got TOTALLY flustered! It was so funny. I have never seen someone get so wigged out about a joke before in my life! He acted funny for the rest of the evening, and just couldn't seem to let it roll off his back. I mean, the joke put us on the spot, but there was no harm in it. I don't know why it bothered him so much. Can anyone explain this puzzling male behavior to me?
Ok, back to my Turkey Day Stress.
As if my mother's strange advice isn't making me TOO ill at ease, I have a bunch of other stuff that is stressing me out about Thanksgiving this year. My inner monologue goes something like this:
What if his parents' house smells funny? What if I don't like his mom's cooking? What if I have to meet other members of the family and they hate me? What if I get down there and his family is TOTALLY different than mine and we just don't mesh well? What if they get all dressed up for Thanksgiving?
(My family wears sweatshirts and jeans, because the Big Meal is always served mid-football marathon, and we are NOT about to wear church clothes to watch football games on tv!)
*Note to self: ask CN about appropriate Thanksgiving attire*
What if I have to go to church with them? I am weird about other people's churches. I never know where to go or what to do, and often feel guilty about "cheating". Which, at this point, is kind of stupid, because I have not been to church in about a year. I guess it's because I was raised Catholic. Although I'm not Catholic anymore, I still view my attending "other" churches as being sacriligious. I'm weird, I know. Heck, at this point, I could use ANY church! LOL I'm a heathen!
What if they don't like the pies I'm making? I will ruin Thanksgiving! (I am making a sweet potato pie, and I've never made one before. I'm worried I will mess it up.)
What if they eat weird food for Thanksgiving? Like squash or chitlins or goose or something? What if I don't want to eat anything except my own pies?
What if I want to watch different football games than they do? Or worse -- what if they don't watch the football games at all!?
What if I get homesick while I'm there and I start crying? (To make things really interesting, I am all hormonal and PMSy -- which means I cry about anything.) Or worse, what if Cranky, PMSy VB comes out and I bite someone's head off?! EEEK!!
What if something really awkward happens? Someone could bring up a personal topic, or CN and I could get into a fight. Or his parents could turn into MY parents, lecturing us to death. Ugh.
What if I get sick when I'm there? What if we start playing board games, like we do at The Czarina's, and I turn into Obnoxious Board Game VB, who plays for blood and screams at people?
Ugh. Ok, change of subject. I can feel my stomach twisting up. I need to chill, don't I? I'm being ridiculous. Everything will be fine. I could always just pop a vicodin -- Lord knows that always chills me out.
I'm kidding.
*Note to self: get prescription for Xanax.*
Does anyone have any advice for me? Because I've never done this before, and all I am imagining is that I will be like Sarah Jessica Parker's character in The Family Stone and it will be horrible horrible horrible. (By the way, if you have never seen that movie, it is hilarious!) My Overactive Imagination is having a field day right now. Pessimistically Paranoid is screaming and running around like a chicken with its head cut off.
Clearly, I need to talk to CN and get him to calm me the eff down. I swear, guys, this is the hormones talking. They make me crazy. Sorry if I'm being TMI today...
Why did I quit smoking again??? Gah, I'd kill for one right now.
So any advice is welcome. Tales of Warning are good, too. And if you have any funny or embarrassing stories, please share those, as well.
But mainly, I'm looking for an explanation of my mother's weird advice. Seriously, WTF??!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
"L" Ready?
Get it? Har har.
I have a cold, and have been vegging out on my couch. That's why I've been MIA. But I feel a little better today, so I'll give you the weekend re-cap.
Friday night was rather uneventful, but Saturday was super fun.
We (me, KT, VW, CN and Stuck) all surprised MJ for her birthday. She had no idea we were all gathered together at her favorite restaurant to surprise her with a night of drunken debauchery. She thought she was just going out to dinner with VW.
We started at The Blue Marlin for dinner (her favorite restaurant) and had a chocolate-raspberry cake from Chocolate Nirvana Bakery for dessert. Mmmmmm!!!
CN felt awful, because as he and I were taking the cake to the restaurant, he had to slam on his brakes to avoid running a red light, causing the cake to fall off the seat of the car and get a little smushed on one side. He claims I was distracting him from his driving, but I deny this. I was merely wearing a low-cut top and patent leather stilettos. I can't help it if touching up my makeup in the vanity mirror almost causes traffic accidents. ;)
In actuality, he seriously almost killed us! At the last second, I shouted, "Sweetie!! That's a RED LIGHT!" He wasn't paying attention, I guess, because by the time we stopped, we were halfway into the intersection! It was pretty funny, because he teases me for being a crazy driver, but now I just say, "Well, at least I've never almost killed us."
Anyway, MJ didn't mind that her cake was a little smushed. She was just enjoying her birthday. She had no idea we were all surprising her or that we got her an ipod for her birthday.
Little did I know, she was about to give me a small surprise. During the course of the dinner conversation, she proceeds to mention that I was messed up on Vicodin on my first date with CN.
"What?" asked CN.
"Gee, thanks, MJ," I retorted sarcastically.
"You didn't tell him? I thought you told him!" she exclaimed.
"Nope. No I didn't tell him about that. But now I have to, I guess!" I said.
"I am so sorry. I thought you told him!" she said.
"It's ok," I said.
And then I proceeded to confess to CN that I was on Vicodin at the time of our first date, but didn't want to tell him out of fear that he would think I have an addiction to painkillers or something. I was worried that he would be upset, but he wasn't. WHEW!
"Why did you go out with me when you knew you were all messed up? Why not just stay home?" he said.
"Because I knew that if I didn't go out with you, you were the kind of guy who would never ask me out again. I had to say yes!" I explained.
"Oh. Well, that's true. I probably wouldn't have," he conceded.
"See?" I said.
Then I told him how difficult it was for me to get ready and focus on dinner conversation when I'm on Vicodin, and he just laughed. I explained to him why I took it that evening and that I don't do it all the time or anything. I also said that it should show him how much I wanted to go out with him -- I spent a good deal of the night feeling nauseous!
MJ apologized to me later and said that she felt awful for letting the cat out of the bag. But it ended up being no big deal, and now he teases me about it.
We went back to our dinner. The chocolate cake was fantastic. After dinner, we proceeded to get MJ good n drunk.
She only remembers bits and pieces of the evening. She doesn't remember how KT and I made fun of her drunken walking. She doesn't remember sulking and pretending to cry whenever someone didn't do what she wanted. She doesn't remember falling down a couple of times. She doesn't remember flashing most of the crowd at Local's as she climbed up onto the bar to receive her free birthday shot. She doesn't remember crashing into a table and breaking several empty glasses, causing us to get kicked out of Bar None.
Needless to say, we all had a really fun time and didn't get home until about 3am.
That's when I got called out again. (What was it? Pick on VB day??) CN and I were driving home when he asked me a very blunt question.
"Hey, when we were at Local's, and you were all touchy-feely on me, were you only doing that because your ex-boyfriend was there? Because if that's the case, it doesn't make me feel good." he said.
Shit. Ummm.....
You see, as soon as MJ said she wanted to go to Local's, I thought, "Uh-oh. That's where Repo goes all the time. He will probably be there." But I didn't want to protest, because it was MJ's birthday. So I said ok, knowing full well what would happen: If Repo was there, I would probably try to rub it in his face that I am in a very happy relationship now.
That's exactly what happened, and that's exactly what I did.* And now, I was being called out on it. Shit. I totally deserved to be called out. I was immature and selfish and behaved totally inappropriately.
So I told him that I was only human and that yes, that was part of it. I told him I pretty much knew what was going to happen once I got there. But since it was very crowded in there, it was that much easier to be physical on the dance floor. My intentions were only halfway bad.
I can't remember exactly what CN said, but it was along the lines of, "Don't do that again. It made me feel like shit." -- a message I heard loud and clear. Commence massive guilt trip. We agreed that maybe we shouldn't go to Local's anymore. Not only because of Repo, but also because CN started to get a panic attack while we were there -- he doesn't do well with crowds.
At this point, not only was I dealing with a massive guilt trip, but now I was worried that I am going to screw up this relationship with my stupid decisions. I am going to ruin everything, because I am a moron. Crap!
So I told him I was going to take a quick shower, get into my pjs and then come over. He said ok.
Twenty minutes later, we were snuggling and talking in his bed. That's when he told me that he's falling in love with me.
WHAT?
Yeah. With me, the immature girl who uses him to try and make an ex jealous, the girl who takes Vicodin recreationally. Is he crazy? I am obviously a shitty girlfriend!
I said, "Um, really?" -- I was so shocked, this was all I could say. I was practically speechless.
"Yeah. I just haven't felt like this about anyone in a really, really long time. I have very strong feelings for you, and I just wanted to tell you because I think it's good to do that," he said.
Aw.
"But.....Sweetie, we haven't been dating that long. That's kind of...soon. I mean, I am charming, and all...." I joked.
"Yeah, I know. But that's how I feel," he replied.
"I really care about you, too. I mean, I'm not there yet, but I'm definitely on my way....are you mad that I didn't say it back?" I asked, worried. (I don't believe in using the "L" word unless you mean it. And even though I am almost ready to say those three little words, I am not quite there yet.)
"Whoa, I didn't say I was in love with you, just that I feel like I am headed in that direction!" he said.
"Are you back-pedaling???" I giggled.
"No. But I do really really care about you," he said.
Aw. Alright, I'm not sharing the rest of the conversation, because it was entirely too schmoopy and sappy, and it involved me crying, so let's just not go there, ok? Ok. Let's just say that the last bit of it went like this:
CN: Are we just going to sit here complimenting each other all night, or are we going to go to sleep?
Me: Oh. *giggle* Yeah, I guess we should go to bed now. I'm pretty tired, and it's probably like 4am.
*smooch!*
*zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....*
So what do you think? Was CN back-pedaling? Do you think he's in The Big L with me? Or is it too soon? Was I out of line at Local's? Wouldn't it have been weirder if I had ignored CN when we were at Local's? Will I ever grow up and stop screwing things up with CN? What should I do to remedy this situation/loss of trust? And finally, am I indeed going to Hell? Or do I just deserve to get smacked?
Your thoughts and comments are appreciated, as always, dear readers.
* I would like to add that Repo looked like shit. He has gained so much weight since we broke up and he looked miserable! He looked like he was really down/depressed. He definitely saw me with my new boyfriend, and I could tell it bothered him. Plus, thanks to the grapevine that is Columbia, I'm pretty sure he and his girlfriend broke up. And I can't say that I didn't get a teeny bit of satisfaction from that.....ugh, I am terrible, I know. I'm going to hell. I am slowly learning to accept this fact.
I have a cold, and have been vegging out on my couch. That's why I've been MIA. But I feel a little better today, so I'll give you the weekend re-cap.
Friday night was rather uneventful, but Saturday was super fun.
We (me, KT, VW, CN and Stuck) all surprised MJ for her birthday. She had no idea we were all gathered together at her favorite restaurant to surprise her with a night of drunken debauchery. She thought she was just going out to dinner with VW.
We started at The Blue Marlin for dinner (her favorite restaurant) and had a chocolate-raspberry cake from Chocolate Nirvana Bakery for dessert. Mmmmmm!!!
CN felt awful, because as he and I were taking the cake to the restaurant, he had to slam on his brakes to avoid running a red light, causing the cake to fall off the seat of the car and get a little smushed on one side. He claims I was distracting him from his driving, but I deny this. I was merely wearing a low-cut top and patent leather stilettos. I can't help it if touching up my makeup in the vanity mirror almost causes traffic accidents. ;)
In actuality, he seriously almost killed us! At the last second, I shouted, "Sweetie!! That's a RED LIGHT!" He wasn't paying attention, I guess, because by the time we stopped, we were halfway into the intersection! It was pretty funny, because he teases me for being a crazy driver, but now I just say, "Well, at least I've never almost killed us."
Anyway, MJ didn't mind that her cake was a little smushed. She was just enjoying her birthday. She had no idea we were all surprising her or that we got her an ipod for her birthday.
Little did I know, she was about to give me a small surprise. During the course of the dinner conversation, she proceeds to mention that I was messed up on Vicodin on my first date with CN.
"What?" asked CN.
"Gee, thanks, MJ," I retorted sarcastically.
"You didn't tell him? I thought you told him!" she exclaimed.
"Nope. No I didn't tell him about that. But now I have to, I guess!" I said.
"I am so sorry. I thought you told him!" she said.
"It's ok," I said.
And then I proceeded to confess to CN that I was on Vicodin at the time of our first date, but didn't want to tell him out of fear that he would think I have an addiction to painkillers or something. I was worried that he would be upset, but he wasn't. WHEW!
"Why did you go out with me when you knew you were all messed up? Why not just stay home?" he said.
"Because I knew that if I didn't go out with you, you were the kind of guy who would never ask me out again. I had to say yes!" I explained.
"Oh. Well, that's true. I probably wouldn't have," he conceded.
"See?" I said.
Then I told him how difficult it was for me to get ready and focus on dinner conversation when I'm on Vicodin, and he just laughed. I explained to him why I took it that evening and that I don't do it all the time or anything. I also said that it should show him how much I wanted to go out with him -- I spent a good deal of the night feeling nauseous!
MJ apologized to me later and said that she felt awful for letting the cat out of the bag. But it ended up being no big deal, and now he teases me about it.
We went back to our dinner. The chocolate cake was fantastic. After dinner, we proceeded to get MJ good n drunk.
She only remembers bits and pieces of the evening. She doesn't remember how KT and I made fun of her drunken walking. She doesn't remember sulking and pretending to cry whenever someone didn't do what she wanted. She doesn't remember falling down a couple of times. She doesn't remember flashing most of the crowd at Local's as she climbed up onto the bar to receive her free birthday shot. She doesn't remember crashing into a table and breaking several empty glasses, causing us to get kicked out of Bar None.
Needless to say, we all had a really fun time and didn't get home until about 3am.
That's when I got called out again. (What was it? Pick on VB day??) CN and I were driving home when he asked me a very blunt question.
"Hey, when we were at Local's, and you were all touchy-feely on me, were you only doing that because your ex-boyfriend was there? Because if that's the case, it doesn't make me feel good." he said.
Shit. Ummm.....
You see, as soon as MJ said she wanted to go to Local's, I thought, "Uh-oh. That's where Repo goes all the time. He will probably be there." But I didn't want to protest, because it was MJ's birthday. So I said ok, knowing full well what would happen: If Repo was there, I would probably try to rub it in his face that I am in a very happy relationship now.
That's exactly what happened, and that's exactly what I did.* And now, I was being called out on it. Shit. I totally deserved to be called out. I was immature and selfish and behaved totally inappropriately.
So I told him that I was only human and that yes, that was part of it. I told him I pretty much knew what was going to happen once I got there. But since it was very crowded in there, it was that much easier to be physical on the dance floor. My intentions were only halfway bad.
I can't remember exactly what CN said, but it was along the lines of, "Don't do that again. It made me feel like shit." -- a message I heard loud and clear. Commence massive guilt trip. We agreed that maybe we shouldn't go to Local's anymore. Not only because of Repo, but also because CN started to get a panic attack while we were there -- he doesn't do well with crowds.
At this point, not only was I dealing with a massive guilt trip, but now I was worried that I am going to screw up this relationship with my stupid decisions. I am going to ruin everything, because I am a moron. Crap!
So I told him I was going to take a quick shower, get into my pjs and then come over. He said ok.
Twenty minutes later, we were snuggling and talking in his bed. That's when he told me that he's falling in love with me.
WHAT?
Yeah. With me, the immature girl who uses him to try and make an ex jealous, the girl who takes Vicodin recreationally. Is he crazy? I am obviously a shitty girlfriend!
I said, "Um, really?" -- I was so shocked, this was all I could say. I was practically speechless.
"Yeah. I just haven't felt like this about anyone in a really, really long time. I have very strong feelings for you, and I just wanted to tell you because I think it's good to do that," he said.
Aw.
"But.....Sweetie, we haven't been dating that long. That's kind of...soon. I mean, I am charming, and all...." I joked.
"Yeah, I know. But that's how I feel," he replied.
"I really care about you, too. I mean, I'm not there yet, but I'm definitely on my way....are you mad that I didn't say it back?" I asked, worried. (I don't believe in using the "L" word unless you mean it. And even though I am almost ready to say those three little words, I am not quite there yet.)
"Whoa, I didn't say I was in love with you, just that I feel like I am headed in that direction!" he said.
"Are you back-pedaling???" I giggled.
"No. But I do really really care about you," he said.
Aw. Alright, I'm not sharing the rest of the conversation, because it was entirely too schmoopy and sappy, and it involved me crying, so let's just not go there, ok? Ok. Let's just say that the last bit of it went like this:
CN: Are we just going to sit here complimenting each other all night, or are we going to go to sleep?
Me: Oh. *giggle* Yeah, I guess we should go to bed now. I'm pretty tired, and it's probably like 4am.
*smooch!*
*zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....*
So what do you think? Was CN back-pedaling? Do you think he's in The Big L with me? Or is it too soon? Was I out of line at Local's? Wouldn't it have been weirder if I had ignored CN when we were at Local's? Will I ever grow up and stop screwing things up with CN? What should I do to remedy this situation/loss of trust? And finally, am I indeed going to Hell? Or do I just deserve to get smacked?
Your thoughts and comments are appreciated, as always, dear readers.
* I would like to add that Repo looked like shit. He has gained so much weight since we broke up and he looked miserable! He looked like he was really down/depressed. He definitely saw me with my new boyfriend, and I could tell it bothered him. Plus, thanks to the grapevine that is Columbia, I'm pretty sure he and his girlfriend broke up. And I can't say that I didn't get a teeny bit of satisfaction from that.....ugh, I am terrible, I know. I'm going to hell. I am slowly learning to accept this fact.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
CNN
Cute Neighbor News. Get it? Har har.
Thanks to all of you who left advice for me on the last post! I don't like being involved in stuff like that, so I will just try to keep out of it as best as possible. Hopefully that will be the end of my involvement.
You have all been waiting patiently for a CN update. I have to admit, I have been stalling out of paranoia. You see, I am worried he will find this blog. Last Saturday, we were out with a group of friends, and the subject of myspace came up. If you are familiar with myspace, you know that you can have a little blog on there. "Do you have a blog?" he asked me.
Oh.
God.
"No...." I trailed off, quickly changing the subject to something else.
Great. I just lied to him. This is just perfect. First I tell him I have food poisoning when I really didn't, and now this. Ugh. I am getting a pit in my stomach just thinking typing this. I don't like lying and I'm terrible at it, too. So who knows if he even believed me???
But what else was I supposed to say??? "Yes, I do, and I talk about you on it all the time. Feel free to check it out so you can learn about how much of a total freak I am!"
As if this wasn't bad enough, long ago I stupidly set my myspace URL to the same name as my blog pseudonym, Virginia Belle. (And yes, I know you are all going to go and myspace stalk me now. Go ahead. I'll wait. It's private, anyway, so don't get too excited.) Anyway, if you Google my pseudonym, my blog pops right up. Oh boy. I do NOT want him reading this. I learned the hard way last time about telling guys you date about your blog. Never again!!
I would not really be worried about this if it weren't for the fact that he does background checks for a living. So he's paid to be a stalker. He probably has all of the research skills that I have. Is it only a matter of time before he thinks to Google my myspace URL pseudonym? Aaaarrrgh. I feel so stupid right now. Instead of being the hunter, now I am the hunted. Getting a taste of your own medicine is always a bitter pill to swallow.
I have some choices. Deleting my myspace and starting a new one would be waaaayy too obvious. I could make this blog invitation only, which would mean no more new readers. I could delete all of the CN posts. I could edit my blog to make it look like it's not ME, but some other girl who happened to use the same pseudonym. I could make it say that I'm a sales rep who lives in Colorado or something. I could even just end this blog and start a new one. Or, I could just hope for the best and continue about my merry way. What do you think? Am I being paranoid? I need help, guys!
I am trying not to think about it. So let's just move on for now. I know you want some scoop. I will warn you that this will probably be kind of gushy. So suppress your gag reflex for the time being. I will do the same.
First off, every time he and I hang out, we have great conversations and he usually has me in stitches. The guy is hilarious. Example: a text message conversation we had yesterday, after the cable guy came over to his house.
CN: The cable guy thinks you're hot. He saw you walking the dogs.
VB: OMG, don't tell me that!
CN: He was all about me hooking him up. He wanted me to give you his number: xxx-xxx-xxxx
VB: Yesss! Now I can get free cable! Thanks, CN!
CN: Just kidding. Alright, I will pay your cable bill if you don't go out with him.
VB: Ok, FINE! Gah!
And did I mention he's got dimples?? Oh man, am I a sucker for dimples....they are like kryptonite.
He and I met up with MJ and her boyfriend, VW for trivia night recently. We had a good time, although we sucked at trivia! CN wanted to do it again tonight, but I already have plans.
Saturday night, we went bowling with MJ & VW and Mr. & Mrs. Bill. There were a few more people there as well. We all had a really good time, especially MJ, who beat the crap out of us. And since she won't give me a straight answer, I will never know if MJ and VW were working behind the scenes to encourage CN to make out with me or not. As if I am not shy and nervous enough, I have to deal with meddling friends. Yeesh. After bowling, we all wanted to go to IHOP, but it was packed, so the group split up. CN and I decided to go to a Waffle House in our neighborhood instead.
When our waffles came out, the waitress neglected to give us any syrup. There was some syrup on a shelf nearby, but I didn't want to touch them because the handles were all sticky and goopy. I was willing to wait for the waitress to give us some syrup that wasn't sticky. I explained this to CN, and he stood up, grabbed one of the sticky syrups and said, "Tell me when." -- and then he syruped my waffle for me! Aw. Bonus points for him. I thought that was so sweet. Not too many guys are willing to syrup your waffles for you, you know?
As he walked me to my door, he said that he wants to take me out alone sometime, because we have been doing nothing but group dates. Ca-ching! More points. He totally read my mind. Unfortunately, there was still no smooching going on by this point. I guess I just wasn't feeling it. I'm not keen on kissing in public or in front of my friends. And I hate having a first kiss on my doorstep. It makes me feel like I'm on stage. I don't like it. So although I could tell he wanted to, I bolted inside at the end of the night.
MJ, of course, wanted juicy smooching details the next morning, but I disappointed her yet again. By this point, MJ was totally annoyed with the both of us, and nagging me incessantly to get on with it. "I'll do it! Lay off, already!! He's shy and it makes me feel shy in response!" I said defensively.
The next day, I was puttering around my house when he asked me if I wanted to go to Steak n Shake for dinner. Mmmmm!!! Burgers and milkshakes!!! Twist my arm!! Unfortunately, when we got there, we learned that tragically, Steak n Shake has closed down. After briefly grieving for the loss, we went to another burger place, where we had more fantastic conversation. Actually, I kinda hogged it, and he let me. More bonus points for him...
When we got home, it was still early, so he invited me over to watch a movie. We settled on Pan's Labyrinth, which ended up being AWESOME. It is one of the best movies I've seen in years. And he got more bonus points for putting up with one of the most annoying things about me: I am one of those people who talks throughout movies. I know, I know. It's so irritating. But I yell at the characters and critique the movie the whole way through. Aside from some much deserved teasing, he let me get away with it. Wow. He got a lot of points for that one.
His house was totally freeeeeeeezzzzing, and so he tucked a blanket around me and turned the air down. Then he said I could snuggle up to him to stay warm, which I did. Aw. He smelled good. Yay!
As he walked me back to my front door, he said he has not been coming over, because he doesn't want to be "that guy". I told him that was good, and that I was doing the same thing, because I didn't want to be "that girl".
"Oh, no, you can totally be that girl," he replied. Aw.
Ugh, this post is making me barf a little. Sorry. I'm trying not to gush. I'll stop, because I'm annoying myself at this point.
But he is a good kisser. :)
Thanks to all of you who left advice for me on the last post! I don't like being involved in stuff like that, so I will just try to keep out of it as best as possible. Hopefully that will be the end of my involvement.
You have all been waiting patiently for a CN update. I have to admit, I have been stalling out of paranoia. You see, I am worried he will find this blog. Last Saturday, we were out with a group of friends, and the subject of myspace came up. If you are familiar with myspace, you know that you can have a little blog on there. "Do you have a blog?" he asked me.
Oh.
God.
"No...." I trailed off, quickly changing the subject to something else.
Great. I just lied to him. This is just perfect. First I tell him I have food poisoning when I really didn't, and now this. Ugh. I am getting a pit in my stomach just thinking typing this. I don't like lying and I'm terrible at it, too. So who knows if he even believed me???
But what else was I supposed to say??? "Yes, I do, and I talk about you on it all the time. Feel free to check it out so you can learn about how much of a total freak I am!"
As if this wasn't bad enough, long ago I stupidly set my myspace URL to the same name as my blog pseudonym, Virginia Belle. (And yes, I know you are all going to go and myspace stalk me now. Go ahead. I'll wait. It's private, anyway, so don't get too excited.) Anyway, if you Google my pseudonym, my blog pops right up. Oh boy. I do NOT want him reading this. I learned the hard way last time about telling guys you date about your blog. Never again!!
I would not really be worried about this if it weren't for the fact that he does background checks for a living. So he's paid to be a stalker. He probably has all of the research skills that I have. Is it only a matter of time before he thinks to Google my myspace URL pseudonym? Aaaarrrgh. I feel so stupid right now. Instead of being the hunter, now I am the hunted. Getting a taste of your own medicine is always a bitter pill to swallow.
I have some choices. Deleting my myspace and starting a new one would be waaaayy too obvious. I could make this blog invitation only, which would mean no more new readers. I could delete all of the CN posts. I could edit my blog to make it look like it's not ME, but some other girl who happened to use the same pseudonym. I could make it say that I'm a sales rep who lives in Colorado or something. I could even just end this blog and start a new one. Or, I could just hope for the best and continue about my merry way. What do you think? Am I being paranoid? I need help, guys!
I am trying not to think about it. So let's just move on for now. I know you want some scoop. I will warn you that this will probably be kind of gushy. So suppress your gag reflex for the time being. I will do the same.
First off, every time he and I hang out, we have great conversations and he usually has me in stitches. The guy is hilarious. Example: a text message conversation we had yesterday, after the cable guy came over to his house.
CN: The cable guy thinks you're hot. He saw you walking the dogs.
VB: OMG, don't tell me that!
CN: He was all about me hooking him up. He wanted me to give you his number: xxx-xxx-xxxx
VB: Yesss! Now I can get free cable! Thanks, CN!
CN: Just kidding. Alright, I will pay your cable bill if you don't go out with him.
VB: Ok, FINE! Gah!
And did I mention he's got dimples?? Oh man, am I a sucker for dimples....they are like kryptonite.
He and I met up with MJ and her boyfriend, VW for trivia night recently. We had a good time, although we sucked at trivia! CN wanted to do it again tonight, but I already have plans.
Saturday night, we went bowling with MJ & VW and Mr. & Mrs. Bill. There were a few more people there as well. We all had a really good time, especially MJ, who beat the crap out of us. And since she won't give me a straight answer, I will never know if MJ and VW were working behind the scenes to encourage CN to make out with me or not. As if I am not shy and nervous enough, I have to deal with meddling friends. Yeesh. After bowling, we all wanted to go to IHOP, but it was packed, so the group split up. CN and I decided to go to a Waffle House in our neighborhood instead.
When our waffles came out, the waitress neglected to give us any syrup. There was some syrup on a shelf nearby, but I didn't want to touch them because the handles were all sticky and goopy. I was willing to wait for the waitress to give us some syrup that wasn't sticky. I explained this to CN, and he stood up, grabbed one of the sticky syrups and said, "Tell me when." -- and then he syruped my waffle for me! Aw. Bonus points for him. I thought that was so sweet. Not too many guys are willing to syrup your waffles for you, you know?
As he walked me to my door, he said that he wants to take me out alone sometime, because we have been doing nothing but group dates. Ca-ching! More points. He totally read my mind. Unfortunately, there was still no smooching going on by this point. I guess I just wasn't feeling it. I'm not keen on kissing in public or in front of my friends. And I hate having a first kiss on my doorstep. It makes me feel like I'm on stage. I don't like it. So although I could tell he wanted to, I bolted inside at the end of the night.
MJ, of course, wanted juicy smooching details the next morning, but I disappointed her yet again. By this point, MJ was totally annoyed with the both of us, and nagging me incessantly to get on with it. "I'll do it! Lay off, already!! He's shy and it makes me feel shy in response!" I said defensively.
The next day, I was puttering around my house when he asked me if I wanted to go to Steak n Shake for dinner. Mmmmm!!! Burgers and milkshakes!!! Twist my arm!! Unfortunately, when we got there, we learned that tragically, Steak n Shake has closed down. After briefly grieving for the loss, we went to another burger place, where we had more fantastic conversation. Actually, I kinda hogged it, and he let me. More bonus points for him...
When we got home, it was still early, so he invited me over to watch a movie. We settled on Pan's Labyrinth, which ended up being AWESOME. It is one of the best movies I've seen in years. And he got more bonus points for putting up with one of the most annoying things about me: I am one of those people who talks throughout movies. I know, I know. It's so irritating. But I yell at the characters and critique the movie the whole way through. Aside from some much deserved teasing, he let me get away with it. Wow. He got a lot of points for that one.
His house was totally freeeeeeeezzzzing, and so he tucked a blanket around me and turned the air down. Then he said I could snuggle up to him to stay warm, which I did. Aw. He smelled good. Yay!
As he walked me back to my front door, he said he has not been coming over, because he doesn't want to be "that guy". I told him that was good, and that I was doing the same thing, because I didn't want to be "that girl".
"Oh, no, you can totally be that girl," he replied. Aw.
Ugh, this post is making me barf a little. Sorry. I'm trying not to gush. I'll stop, because I'm annoying myself at this point.
But he is a good kisser. :)
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