I've finally met all of my roommates. One is Belgian. I get along with him the best. Maybe because we bonded over the lack of hot water in the house our first few days. The other roommates weren't here, yet. Or maybe it's because they seem like normal guys. I've heard the word "bro" thrown around a few times. Everyone is nice, so I'm happy. It's an eclectic mix here. So, it's like "New Girl" except substitute two jocks and a foreigner. I can still fulfill the kooky role like Zooey Deschanel. Right now, one roommate has a friend over & they're playing video games. This friend was a total bro. Muscular, shorts, t-shirt, tennis shoes, Axe body spray. At least I feel safe. Bros can fight if needed.
I always wonder what impression I'm making. I feel for the Belgian. He's known me a week and has seen me drunk and crying (not at the same time). We went out one night for drinks and to get acquainted. I had three drinks, so he got to have me stagger home, my arm wrapped around his. The crying was when he came to my rescue after my car overheated. We rode back to it with emergency water, me crying all the while. Girls cry in a crisis. It's our Achilles's heel. I didn't want to be crying. But, I was on my way to WV for Mother's day and I'd already had my credit card number stolen earlier in the week. Straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. He was cool and collected the whole time. He just kept saying "We put water in and you go to West Virginia". I lacked his confidence, however, and stayed home on Mother's day. I cried as hard as I did when I first saw Titanic. If you ever want to gauge crying, Titanic usually ranks a ten on a scale of one to ten. Fucking sad. That and Sophie's Choice. That shit is raw. Anyway, I missed my child so bad; I felt like my heart was breaking.
Oh, yeah, they're bros. I just heard someone get called a "fag". I think I smell meat, too. Bros love meat. Maybe I'm a bro. I should join them.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Friday, May 3, 2013
The new Bridget Jones
I was recently told that I look like Renee Zellweger by a gorgeous, funny guy whose every word I hang on. Sometimes I see the resemblance. Especially when she plays Bridget Jones. It's depressing to read about how she gained all this weight and she ends up being what looks like my real life weight. Thanks, Hollywood. Due to the comparison, I examined her and the movie more. I've come to the conclusion that I'm the American Bridget Jones.
1. The features- We have the same squinty eyes that get pushed up even more by our full cheeks. Blonde hair, pale skin.
2. The underwear- I wear the big underwear just like Bridget. When I was young, I rocked the thongs. Directly after Viggo was born, I was at the store buying Spanx. To compound the big underwear , I wear what looks like even bigger underwear over them. Men are always baffled. They start undressing you & just stop, perplexed by how to get them off. I usually just save the moment by quickly rolling them down & tossing them aside. I might as well throw a bucket of cold water on them. Spanx are not penis risers.
3. We're attracted to the bad ones- she had Hugh Grant; I had a list that I don't want to think about. There's just something thrilling about a jerk. A huge flaw in the female brain. Maybe we like the every second of uncertainty that comes from dating an asshole.
3. We're clumsy- Those silly hijinks you see in the movie can be performed for you in real life by me. Who else falls down the stairs while pregnant because she heard Jeopardy coming on & hurried in her Hello Kitty slippers to catch it? My blunders aren't as adorable as hers. She slides down a fireman's pole, revealing her "arse". I accidentally walk around work, zipper down, sans underwear. Yeah, true story.
4. We both subject our friends to our dating woes. I'm always texting some detail to a girlfriend. I'm like a lame Sex & the City character. My relationships seem to last as long as theirs do on that show. I need a round table discussion like she had going on. A friend that curses a lot like hers would be greatly entertaining.
5. We stare at others while they're sleeping- it's out of love. I stare at Viggo every time he sleeps. I stare at guys because it's the one time you can get a good, honest look at them. Ok, I'm a creep, I accept it.
This list could go on, but I'm sure no one wants that. Let's just say that we're very similar, that character and me. Most of all,
we both have a great desire for true love. That's a wonderful thing.
1. The features- We have the same squinty eyes that get pushed up even more by our full cheeks. Blonde hair, pale skin.
2. The underwear- I wear the big underwear just like Bridget. When I was young, I rocked the thongs. Directly after Viggo was born, I was at the store buying Spanx. To compound the big underwear , I wear what looks like even bigger underwear over them. Men are always baffled. They start undressing you & just stop, perplexed by how to get them off. I usually just save the moment by quickly rolling them down & tossing them aside. I might as well throw a bucket of cold water on them. Spanx are not penis risers.
3. We're attracted to the bad ones- she had Hugh Grant; I had a list that I don't want to think about. There's just something thrilling about a jerk. A huge flaw in the female brain. Maybe we like the every second of uncertainty that comes from dating an asshole.
3. We're clumsy- Those silly hijinks you see in the movie can be performed for you in real life by me. Who else falls down the stairs while pregnant because she heard Jeopardy coming on & hurried in her Hello Kitty slippers to catch it? My blunders aren't as adorable as hers. She slides down a fireman's pole, revealing her "arse". I accidentally walk around work, zipper down, sans underwear. Yeah, true story.
4. We both subject our friends to our dating woes. I'm always texting some detail to a girlfriend. I'm like a lame Sex & the City character. My relationships seem to last as long as theirs do on that show. I need a round table discussion like she had going on. A friend that curses a lot like hers would be greatly entertaining.
5. We stare at others while they're sleeping- it's out of love. I stare at Viggo every time he sleeps. I stare at guys because it's the one time you can get a good, honest look at them. Ok, I'm a creep, I accept it.
This list could go on, but I'm sure no one wants that. Let's just say that we're very similar, that character and me. Most of all,
we both have a great desire for true love. That's a wonderful thing.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Am I the Mila Kunis of OKCupid?
I've noticed on the dating sight, a couple of guys repeatedly visit my profile several times a day. I think, odd, it doesn't change. Why are they..... Wait, are the doing something to my pictures? I mean, it's possible. Guys will jerk off to anything. I bet even Mrs. Butterworth has fueled a few minutes of ecstasy. These boys are young, around 26. They probably have Mrs. Robinson fantasies going on. I take that back-Stifler's mother from American Pie fantasies. No way that generation knows The Graduate.
It's just odd because I've never inspired that in a man, that I know of. They're normally fantasizing about other women while with me. Or, doing other women. Guys thinking of me while they jerk is hilarious. Those must be some good, deceiving pics because in real life, it's a shit show. Take yesterday, for example. I was counting money at work, picked up a stack of ones and proceeded to drop them, fan style like I was a geisha. Dollar bills went everywhere. While moving the other day, I got my bookcase down my five flights of Downton Abbey servants quarters only to have it crumple like a cracker when putting it into my car. My normal roommate witnessed the whole thing. Even me screaming "really?!" at it. So, yeah, not fantasy material.
I was once told, as an insult, that I was a "wanna be bombshell". Uh, duh. Who doesn't want to be one? Maybe I go a bit further than most gals. I do own pasties (made by Go-Go Amy). I like who I am. No, I'm not a "bombshell" as much as I try. I don't have a great body. It's all smoke and mirrors, or I should say, Spanx and a great Victoria's Secret bra. You get to this age and it is what it is. Better get comfortable and accept who you've become. The other day, I read an article with actor Idris Elba. He said sometimes he hates looking in the mirror. If that beautiful man feels that way, then, I'm in great company. We all cringe in the morning at our reflection. But, when someone looks at you and truly tells you that you're beautiful, it's a beautiful thing in itself. Maybe we should all tell ourselves that in the mirror. There, I ended that all heart-warming like a Farrelly brothers movie.
It's just odd because I've never inspired that in a man, that I know of. They're normally fantasizing about other women while with me. Or, doing other women. Guys thinking of me while they jerk is hilarious. Those must be some good, deceiving pics because in real life, it's a shit show. Take yesterday, for example. I was counting money at work, picked up a stack of ones and proceeded to drop them, fan style like I was a geisha. Dollar bills went everywhere. While moving the other day, I got my bookcase down my five flights of Downton Abbey servants quarters only to have it crumple like a cracker when putting it into my car. My normal roommate witnessed the whole thing. Even me screaming "really?!" at it. So, yeah, not fantasy material.
I was once told, as an insult, that I was a "wanna be bombshell". Uh, duh. Who doesn't want to be one? Maybe I go a bit further than most gals. I do own pasties (made by Go-Go Amy). I like who I am. No, I'm not a "bombshell" as much as I try. I don't have a great body. It's all smoke and mirrors, or I should say, Spanx and a great Victoria's Secret bra. You get to this age and it is what it is. Better get comfortable and accept who you've become. The other day, I read an article with actor Idris Elba. He said sometimes he hates looking in the mirror. If that beautiful man feels that way, then, I'm in great company. We all cringe in the morning at our reflection. But, when someone looks at you and truly tells you that you're beautiful, it's a beautiful thing in itself. Maybe we should all tell ourselves that in the mirror. There, I ended that all heart-warming like a Farrelly brothers movie.
Friday, April 19, 2013
April can suck a dick
This month has sucked. Not just for me, either. I know quite a few people who've had an awful month. Mine has been more discombobulating than anything else. Some things were annoying- I had to take my computer to Geeksquad three times in one week. Some were stressful, like finding out I had three weeks to find a new home. Others were straight up suck like arguing with my mom and getting a flat tire. There were the Boston bombings on the anniversary of Lincoln's shooting and right around the anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. Wasn't Columbine this month, too? My troubles are nothing compared to some people's. But, it's all relative. We all have troubles. My ex broke up with his longtime girlfriend. That's worse than a flat tire. Regardless, I still cried about it. The tire, not the break up. Although, I feel really bad for him. It's sad. Despite how they met and how it affected my marriage, I got over it and was very happy for both of them. I thought they would get married. It sucks being single and I don't wish it on him at all. He's a great guy and the best dad out there. It somehow led to a massive argument with my mother. She insisted Viggo is going to be "screwed up" because we split up and now he's seen our subsequent failed relationships. What a dick. That would be like Hitler telling Tom Selleck he has a weird mustache. Coming from one of the worst mother's out there, I should have taken it with a grain of salt. I mean, I turned out ok with her as a mother. She proceeded to tell me it wouldn't matter because "she wouldn't be around when he was older". Which I take to mean her death. When I was little, it was "I'm going to go to California and be a go-go dancer." Now, it's she's not going to be around. I'll tell her what I told her when I was seven- "Well, go ahead and do it." Asshole. What kind of a jerk says these things to her child? Viggo has two parents who love him and put him first. He's smart and well cared for. He's fine. Only when I threatened to leave with him, did she cool her shit. I hope it brought back memories of family taking me from her when she pulled this shit earlier in life. She's always the martyr. No one has it as bad as her. I told her to get her head out of her ass and start thinking about someone else first, instead of herself. I said he needs positive support in his life, not Debbie Downer, go-go dancer.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Beginners will mess your shit up
I watched the movie Beginners the other night and it fucked my shit up. I sat and cried an hour after watching it. It struck so many chords with me that I don't even know where to begin. Ewan McGregor plays a man named Oliver who is recently dealing with the loss of his father. His parents were married until his mother died. His father, played by Christopher Plummer, decides to come out and begin his life again. It runs back in forth through time- the current situation of Oliver taking care of his father's dog, dealing with his death and falling in love again despite his relationships never working out.
There were so many things that I identified with- starting a dating life after your prime, not ever having relationships work, being in a relationship and not being happy. I think the most heart-breaking scene for me was of Oliver as a child seeing his mother walk around the house depressed. She's in a loveless marriage and an engaging mother that tries to hide it. But, as explained by Melanie Laurent's character, Anna, your face show a normal expression, but others can read your true emotions. It made me think of Viggo. I think of how many times he saw me crying or depressed over the past few years. I always tried to hide it, but it always surfaced. Eventually, he became rather nonchalant about my tears. "Are you crying again, Mom?". It's rough to have your child see you so vulnerable. You're their protector. I cried a lot when I split with his dad and cried even more when I split with Patrick. At times, I considered suicide. Viggo was the only thing that kept me going. To visually see how that looks in a movie killed me.
I, of course, identified with Oliver's father starting over late in life. Granted, he's much older than me, but I still know what it's like. Dating isn't an easy world to re-enter. He finds love only to find that it's not exclusive. (Very reminiscent of me and NBF and him wanting an "open" relationship).
Meanwhile, in the present, Oliver falls in love with Anna. She's an actress who never stays in one place due to work. He's a guy who always leaves his relationships. They're trying to make something out of what they have. Oliver's personality reminded me of myself- caring, kind of nerdy, wanting to give his heart but so afraid. The things we've done to ourselves and the things others have done change us and screw us up. If you touch a hot stove, you learn to never do it again. Instinctively, we do the same with relationships. Once bitten, twice shy, right? If you've been emotionally mauled like you're Grizzly Man, then, it's not so easy to let go of shit. You go into these emotionally, self-imposed exiles, keeping your heart safe. Oliver and Anna are used to being alone. There's serious trepidation about being together. It's easier to walk away sometimes.
I can't express how much I loved this movie. Mike Mills did a stupendous job. You'll laugh and cry and think about a lot of things.
There were so many things that I identified with- starting a dating life after your prime, not ever having relationships work, being in a relationship and not being happy. I think the most heart-breaking scene for me was of Oliver as a child seeing his mother walk around the house depressed. She's in a loveless marriage and an engaging mother that tries to hide it. But, as explained by Melanie Laurent's character, Anna, your face show a normal expression, but others can read your true emotions. It made me think of Viggo. I think of how many times he saw me crying or depressed over the past few years. I always tried to hide it, but it always surfaced. Eventually, he became rather nonchalant about my tears. "Are you crying again, Mom?". It's rough to have your child see you so vulnerable. You're their protector. I cried a lot when I split with his dad and cried even more when I split with Patrick. At times, I considered suicide. Viggo was the only thing that kept me going. To visually see how that looks in a movie killed me.
I, of course, identified with Oliver's father starting over late in life. Granted, he's much older than me, but I still know what it's like. Dating isn't an easy world to re-enter. He finds love only to find that it's not exclusive. (Very reminiscent of me and NBF and him wanting an "open" relationship).
Meanwhile, in the present, Oliver falls in love with Anna. She's an actress who never stays in one place due to work. He's a guy who always leaves his relationships. They're trying to make something out of what they have. Oliver's personality reminded me of myself- caring, kind of nerdy, wanting to give his heart but so afraid. The things we've done to ourselves and the things others have done change us and screw us up. If you touch a hot stove, you learn to never do it again. Instinctively, we do the same with relationships. Once bitten, twice shy, right? If you've been emotionally mauled like you're Grizzly Man, then, it's not so easy to let go of shit. You go into these emotionally, self-imposed exiles, keeping your heart safe. Oliver and Anna are used to being alone. There's serious trepidation about being together. It's easier to walk away sometimes.
I can't express how much I loved this movie. Mike Mills did a stupendous job. You'll laugh and cry and think about a lot of things.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
It's that day tomorrow
Valentine's Day is only ever one of two things:glorious or dreaded. There aren't any people out there who have "eh" feelings about it. Most likely, you're a man, it's an obligation and you dislike it. Or you're a woman, know you will get something and love it. Your dating/marital status also determines your love/hate for this holiday. I don't know what to expect. I've been seeing the same guy for exactly a month today, who may or may not want a relationship in the future. I'm a notorious, great gift giver. When I was first dating Bob, the ex husband, I got him an acoustic guitar, which he still has to this day. I try to really aim for something someone wants, but maybe can't or won't buy for themselves. I considered getting my non-boyfriend (NBF) a session with a chiropractor. He mentions it frequently and I found a few places offering half-off, first visits. That is, until he declared that he might not want a relationship. I believe, I drunkenly told him of my plan and said "Not now!". A lot of interesting things came out of my mouth after that bomb was dropped. Four beers and disappointment are not a good combination. Nothing seems to have changed between us, in a good way. We still spend almost every night together, cuddling in bed. We text throughout the day and say we miss each other. Like I said, he doesn't have to label what we are, I just want to be the only non-labeled girl in his love life. I'm not a sharer. I'll never be a sister wife or even part of a threesome. I'm jealous. It's not going to change.
My solution for a present was to buy sexy coupons. It's a goofy pack of coupons that say things like "One coupon for any way you like it" or "You get a free striptease". Not typically something I would buy, but I was stumped. I knew I had to go cheap and non-committal with this gift. I couldn't get anything too nice or he'd think I want to chain him in my basement and force-marry him. I didn't want to completely skip it, either. That's just not me. I'm very giving. So, sexy coupons. Personally, I LOVE getting something for Valentine's Day. I'm very traditional. I love roses, chocolate, etc. But, I have zero expectations this year. It's just a weird holiday to fall this soon in my non-relationship. I'll be spending the day with my true valentine, Viggo. That's all I need. I know exactly what to get him and I know I can smother him with mommy kisses. As long as I have my baby, I can survive this stupid holiday.
My solution for a present was to buy sexy coupons. It's a goofy pack of coupons that say things like "One coupon for any way you like it" or "You get a free striptease". Not typically something I would buy, but I was stumped. I knew I had to go cheap and non-committal with this gift. I couldn't get anything too nice or he'd think I want to chain him in my basement and force-marry him. I didn't want to completely skip it, either. That's just not me. I'm very giving. So, sexy coupons. Personally, I LOVE getting something for Valentine's Day. I'm very traditional. I love roses, chocolate, etc. But, I have zero expectations this year. It's just a weird holiday to fall this soon in my non-relationship. I'll be spending the day with my true valentine, Viggo. That's all I need. I know exactly what to get him and I know I can smother him with mommy kisses. As long as I have my baby, I can survive this stupid holiday.
Friday, February 8, 2013
First rule of relationships: don't talk about relationships
This past week has made me insane in respect to dealing with the opposite sex. That's all ages. From eight to 31, specifically. I've realized that I'm at the mercy of the male gender. Whether I like it or not, they dominate my day and emotions.
First, there's Viggo. I don't know whether he's having trouble adjusting to our new conditions or it's just his age, but he's been kind of distant. I know, he's eight. But, hear me out. The past few visits have consisted of lots of eye rolling, huffing and back talk. Mom is clearly not cool anymore. Seven was a very affectionate age. Eight is like hanging out with a sixteen year old. He's not keen on me walking him up to the school door or giving him kisses when I buckle him into the car. The most recent development is the need for privacy. "Mom, can I get dressed alone?". I think he's discovered his penis. I'm not ready for any of this. He's still a baby. I just rewatched Louis CK's bit about being nine and obsessed with his penis. Being nine and rubbing against anything and everything. Once again, I'm not ready for this. When do boys get "the talk"? You can wait with girls until they're at least twelve. I remember the talk. You're going to start bleeding once a month. Boom. Next week, I got it. It's like my mom and grandmother were witch doctors or something. They could sense the force. Thankfully, they told me in time. Can you imagine just finding that in your pants? No wonder Carrie set her school on fire with her telekinesis. Give somebody a heads up. That's shit you need to know. With boys it doesn't seem that urgent. You're going to constantly fondle this thing and let it run your life from this point on. You'll jizz in socks and do anything to satisfy that thing in your pants. Oh, and you''ll be emotionally dead inside with regards to women. Simple enough. Maybe his dad should handle this talk. I don't want him to change. I don't want him to become one of these frustrating beings that baffles the opposite sex. He's my baby bear.
Onto my other passion for insanity- my current dating life. I've been seeing the same guy for almost a month now. We see each other every night. I sleep at his apartment every night. We hang out and say we miss each other. But, during one drunken, pinball playing night it all went awry. Somehow we got on relationship talk. He says he doesn't know if he's ready for one. He wants to take things slow. I'm fine with that. I just want to know that if I'm spending every night with you, that I have potential for a relationship. Motherfucker, I'm not going to spend every, goddamn night with you only to have you turn around and declare you like someone else. That's all I'm asking. It's just a common courtesy. If we're devoting this much time to each other, I want to know that he's not seeing other people. I don't need to label this thing or get married or any bullshit. I just want to know I won't get fucked around on. Clearly, this all stems from my last major relationship. He was married before, also. His wife cheated on him. So, I understand his trepidation. However, I guess he cheated on his last girlfriend. Kind of like, the universe owed him. Not cool at all. He broke some girl's heart and she never got over it. I can't imagine. So, in one fell swoop, he tells me he doesn't want a relationship at the moment and he's a former cheater. Granted, he learned he made a huge mistake. And, he says he really likes me. Maybe, I didn't take it all so well. I might have, maybe said "I was falling in love with you until tonight". Yeah, not the best line. He said "Oh, until tonight?". Yeah, until tonight. Then, I mumbled shit about scaling back my emotions. I remember a very good friend experience the same thing with her boyfriend when they first started going out. She didn't get the answers she wanted to hear. Guys just can't stand the thought of commitment. However, they're still together. It's like Fight Club. You just can't talk about it. It can be there and exist. Just don't talk about it. She advised me to just keep acting the same as always. So, I have. He has, too. For this not being a relationship, I sure get told I'm missed a lot. He fixed my broken headlight in my car. Because that's what casual daters do. Anyway, I'm just going to roll with it. My friend Amy said it best when she suggested to just enjoy whatever it is that we have for however long it lasts. In a bizarre way, it was freeing. I suddenly stopped giving so much care to the whole thing and just said "fuck it". If he doesn't want to get on board, I'll hit the next stop. I like him tremendously, but, I just can't emotionally burden myself. I'm afraid of getting into a relationship, myself. I don't have the best track record. I only have a sliver of a soul left after the last one. I can't take more heartbreak. Of course, I'm down for taking it slow. I just don't want to be misled. Women aren't casual about their emotions like men seem to be. We want to get into your mind and soul. You're supposed to write odes to us and have us be your muses. I don't know where it'll go from here. I've given up. I just really, really don't think any man wants a relationship. It's a new era. A dead, wasteland of an era. Love is just a mirage. I compare guys wanting a relationship to unicorns. You don't see any of those prancing around, do ya? Nope. They don't exist. In the meantime, I guess I'll just spend EVERY night with my guy friend. Who misses me when I'm not around. But, God forbid, I won't expect anything or ever want to label it. That's too traumatic. A woman mentioning relationships is akin to someone trying to touch a deer or grab a butterfly. Have you ever done that? NOOOO. They take off BECAUSE THEY MIGHT DIE. Enter the mind of a man. Relationship=death. It makes you feel like the old man from Phantasm, creepily pointing your finger and yelling "BOY!". We're not trying to drag you to hell. We just want to hang out and see you everyday, exclusively. I'm very easy to date. I let my boyfriends keep their space, hang out with their buddies, etc. You're two adults in a relationship. You're not his mom. Do your thing. Just don't stick it somewhere else. That's all I ask. It isn't much. I don't drag men to romantic comedies or take them shopping. I hate that shit. I watch Tom Hardy movies and curse like a sailor. I drink like Hemingway and talk about how great boobs are. I'm the best girlfriend you could ask for. I just don't want to be shot down before I can get going.
First, there's Viggo. I don't know whether he's having trouble adjusting to our new conditions or it's just his age, but he's been kind of distant. I know, he's eight. But, hear me out. The past few visits have consisted of lots of eye rolling, huffing and back talk. Mom is clearly not cool anymore. Seven was a very affectionate age. Eight is like hanging out with a sixteen year old. He's not keen on me walking him up to the school door or giving him kisses when I buckle him into the car. The most recent development is the need for privacy. "Mom, can I get dressed alone?". I think he's discovered his penis. I'm not ready for any of this. He's still a baby. I just rewatched Louis CK's bit about being nine and obsessed with his penis. Being nine and rubbing against anything and everything. Once again, I'm not ready for this. When do boys get "the talk"? You can wait with girls until they're at least twelve. I remember the talk. You're going to start bleeding once a month. Boom. Next week, I got it. It's like my mom and grandmother were witch doctors or something. They could sense the force. Thankfully, they told me in time. Can you imagine just finding that in your pants? No wonder Carrie set her school on fire with her telekinesis. Give somebody a heads up. That's shit you need to know. With boys it doesn't seem that urgent. You're going to constantly fondle this thing and let it run your life from this point on. You'll jizz in socks and do anything to satisfy that thing in your pants. Oh, and you''ll be emotionally dead inside with regards to women. Simple enough. Maybe his dad should handle this talk. I don't want him to change. I don't want him to become one of these frustrating beings that baffles the opposite sex. He's my baby bear.
Onto my other passion for insanity- my current dating life. I've been seeing the same guy for almost a month now. We see each other every night. I sleep at his apartment every night. We hang out and say we miss each other. But, during one drunken, pinball playing night it all went awry. Somehow we got on relationship talk. He says he doesn't know if he's ready for one. He wants to take things slow. I'm fine with that. I just want to know that if I'm spending every night with you, that I have potential for a relationship. Motherfucker, I'm not going to spend every, goddamn night with you only to have you turn around and declare you like someone else. That's all I'm asking. It's just a common courtesy. If we're devoting this much time to each other, I want to know that he's not seeing other people. I don't need to label this thing or get married or any bullshit. I just want to know I won't get fucked around on. Clearly, this all stems from my last major relationship. He was married before, also. His wife cheated on him. So, I understand his trepidation. However, I guess he cheated on his last girlfriend. Kind of like, the universe owed him. Not cool at all. He broke some girl's heart and she never got over it. I can't imagine. So, in one fell swoop, he tells me he doesn't want a relationship at the moment and he's a former cheater. Granted, he learned he made a huge mistake. And, he says he really likes me. Maybe, I didn't take it all so well. I might have, maybe said "I was falling in love with you until tonight". Yeah, not the best line. He said "Oh, until tonight?". Yeah, until tonight. Then, I mumbled shit about scaling back my emotions. I remember a very good friend experience the same thing with her boyfriend when they first started going out. She didn't get the answers she wanted to hear. Guys just can't stand the thought of commitment. However, they're still together. It's like Fight Club. You just can't talk about it. It can be there and exist. Just don't talk about it. She advised me to just keep acting the same as always. So, I have. He has, too. For this not being a relationship, I sure get told I'm missed a lot. He fixed my broken headlight in my car. Because that's what casual daters do. Anyway, I'm just going to roll with it. My friend Amy said it best when she suggested to just enjoy whatever it is that we have for however long it lasts. In a bizarre way, it was freeing. I suddenly stopped giving so much care to the whole thing and just said "fuck it". If he doesn't want to get on board, I'll hit the next stop. I like him tremendously, but, I just can't emotionally burden myself. I'm afraid of getting into a relationship, myself. I don't have the best track record. I only have a sliver of a soul left after the last one. I can't take more heartbreak. Of course, I'm down for taking it slow. I just don't want to be misled. Women aren't casual about their emotions like men seem to be. We want to get into your mind and soul. You're supposed to write odes to us and have us be your muses. I don't know where it'll go from here. I've given up. I just really, really don't think any man wants a relationship. It's a new era. A dead, wasteland of an era. Love is just a mirage. I compare guys wanting a relationship to unicorns. You don't see any of those prancing around, do ya? Nope. They don't exist. In the meantime, I guess I'll just spend EVERY night with my guy friend. Who misses me when I'm not around. But, God forbid, I won't expect anything or ever want to label it. That's too traumatic. A woman mentioning relationships is akin to someone trying to touch a deer or grab a butterfly. Have you ever done that? NOOOO. They take off BECAUSE THEY MIGHT DIE. Enter the mind of a man. Relationship=death. It makes you feel like the old man from Phantasm, creepily pointing your finger and yelling "BOY!". We're not trying to drag you to hell. We just want to hang out and see you everyday, exclusively. I'm very easy to date. I let my boyfriends keep their space, hang out with their buddies, etc. You're two adults in a relationship. You're not his mom. Do your thing. Just don't stick it somewhere else. That's all I ask. It isn't much. I don't drag men to romantic comedies or take them shopping. I hate that shit. I watch Tom Hardy movies and curse like a sailor. I drink like Hemingway and talk about how great boobs are. I'm the best girlfriend you could ask for. I just don't want to be shot down before I can get going.
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