August 24, 2010
The week before last my boyfriend SB and I had a blowing out where he lied to me to get the combo to my room. He took all of his stuff out without telling me. This led to me being incredibly pissed off and heartbroken. I actually took a personal day from work to go spend it at my Mom’s so I could escape for a little while because I was so hurt.
We decided that living together in that small room was too much for us, and his financial issues were not at the right level for him to contribute fairly and still be happy. Plus, we acknowledged that us living together after barely a week of dating was not the best idea. After that cathartic talk with him, I felt like the slate was wiped clean, and we could get back to the awesome relationship we have had in the past.
Not so, it seems. In fact, I feel more upset. I thought living apart for a while and saving for own apartment would bring back the romance we had initially. I hoped we would go out on more “dates” and that he would value me. It turned out to be the exact opposite – or at least that’s how I feel.
Yes, he will come over and call now and then, be he comes over just to get a vacation from his parents/family. He knows I will take extremely good care of him. (Either that or he just wants to get laid.) He comes over and says that he missed me and he’ll hug me and hold my hands and all of that, I will give him that. Honestly, I feel like I am just an insignificant sidenote on his life as of right now. And that bothers me so much that I want to cry and I just feel heartbroken. I’ve always tried to put 100% into our relationship, but I feel like I get less and less.
And last night, it became glaringly apparent.
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July 23, 2010
Courtesy of Marie Claire
So, a lot has happened since the last time I wrote about the issues with my boyfriend. At the behest of a few of the readers, I wanted to update all of you.
Things haven’t gotten much better since I wrote my last post. That is really why I have been MIA for the past few days. I have been so upset, disappointed, and depressed that I really have had no energy for much of anything. I have noticed such a drop in our relationship that it is hard not to notice.
Take this weekend, for example. SB did not have to work this weekend, but yet he decided to sleep the entire time. He barely stayed conscious for longer than two hours the entire weekend. This has been a repetitive offense, occurring more often than not now. I basically expect one of two things when I get home from work: 1) SB is back at his parent’s house yet, playing Call of Duty, or sleeping, or 2) he is back at my place doing – what else? – sleeping. Now, this isn’t to say the man can’t sleep. He works overnights at a hospital; I would have to be the biggest bitch ever to not allow a cat nap before he goes to work. But these “cat naps” have grown into an all-evening event, not even allowing us to see how each other’s day went. I almost feel like he is trying to avoid me in a passive-aggressive way, which naturally upsets me like it would any woman.
Secondly, and perhaps one of the most worrisome, is that our sex life has taken a total nose dive. In the past week, we have had sex all of once. Meanwhile, previous to this, we would enjoy each other’s company every day. I love having sex every day. I have a high sex drive, and I have no qualms in saying so. I’m a woman, I have hormones, as well as a va-jay-jay. If I can have sex with my boyfriend every day, I would be an idiot to refuse. And it has been pretty great sex up until recently, where he has seemed…I don’t know how else to put it…unenthusiastic. I really have to spent an extended amount of time trying to even get him to the point of moving and taking off his boxers. Of course, this does a number on my self-esteem. It makes me wonder all of these things, and I end up having an internal dialogue similar to this:
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July 16, 2010
I recently went from working as a temp at my current job to being shifted to perm with the company itself. That means getting a salary, insurance benefits, paid time off — all of that. I actually got a higher salary than I was expecting, which was awesome. I was literally so excited about it all I could hardly sleep last night, and I have had to cover this smile on my face for over 24 hours now. Except, there is now an issue at hand because of all of this: my boyfriend SB.
I told him yesterday while I was at work that my boss was putting me on the company payroll, and at a higher salary than I expected. I also told him that my boss was going to put me on the insurance plan ASAP as well, when I would have to wait three months, usually. What was his response to all of this? “When do you get your first paycheck?”
No congratulations, no enthusiasm, no happiness for my success – nothing.
Instead, he wants to know the exact day I will be receiving my first salaried paycheck. He doesn’t just ask once – he asks three times. I tell him I wanted to get about $300 in new clothes with my first paycheck, which is certainly doable after I pay the rent and get some food and the like. My boyfriend starts telling me that I should shop at H&M and The Gap because they are cheaper, and to not spend all of my money and be irresponsible. I got incredibly irritated at this. First of all, I have been paying 6/7 of the rent. I buy most of the food. I only get $25 a week from SB for the rent, as well as maybe $30 in food after the normally $60 or $70 in food I buy runs out. Which leaves him with about $185 for himself since he says he makes $240 a week through his temp agency job at a hospital in Brooklyn. When I was working the temp agency thing at my job, I paid 6/7 of the rent like I said, and I would buy the majority of the food as well. Then I had to get my MetroCard. Let’s not forget my doctor’s visits and prescriptions I had to pay for with no insurance. That left me with nothing usually; either that or I had to call my parents and ask for help monetarily. Yet he’s bitching about no money? It really got to me, considering I sacrificed for that.
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July 15, 2010
It’s recently come to my attention that some people still do not get the appeal of Lady Gaga, or what she might mean to others. I mentioned — in my previous post — that she makes me “feel alive”. And she does. The Thinking Housewife dismisses my adoration of Lady Gaga by calling me “half-alive”.
But let me tell you, I am far from being “half-alive”. I have probably seen more life in my twenty-something years of life than most others who are nearly double my age. And let’s not forget: art is relative to the person. While one person may prefer classical music, another may prefer rock. That’s not to say that one is better than the other, because although they are distinctly different genres, they both speak to the listener.
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July 12, 2010
I love Lady Gaga. I freely admit it, and everyone who knows me knows how big of a fan of Mother Monster I am. Over the past year and a half, she has rocketed to super stardom from what seems like out of nowhere. She now has the most fans on Facebook ever for a living person, and nearly every single she releases becomes a #1 hit. Her fans (myself included) are known as her “Little Monsters”. But why is this, exactly? Let me take the opportunity to explain to you, from my personal viewpoint, why so many people adore her.
What first got me interested in Lady Gaga was her music. I remember first hearing “Just Dance” when I was just moved into my first apartment with JR and thinking, “Damn, this song is hot!”
By the time JR and I got DirecTV installed, I saw her video for “Poker Face”. That was even hotter. I couldn’t stop singing her songs in my head and dancing to them whenever they came onto the radio. Then LoveGame … then Paparazzi … then Bad Romance. Every new song was bigger and better than the last. And you couldn’t help but take notice of Lady Gaga because of her sense of style. It’s true: her fashion is a little out there. Most people don’t understand it. But you need to look at her style of dress more from the perspective of art rather than functionality.
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July 9, 2010
via Flickr user mdezemery
I decided that my first “real” post would be concerning my relations with members of the male gender. I haven’t exactly had the best exposure to those toting sausage, starting from when my father beat the shit out of me when I was younger, and also telling me that nothing was ever good enough. I would get all A’s in school and not do the typical stupid shit that most my age partook in, but I was still doing something wrong. Certainly that whole experience gave me a great head start in my relationships with men.
Fast forward to late 2008. I was living in Las Vegas and working in a casino (and no, it is not on the Strip, so stop asking) as a cop/floorperson. This casino was stuck in the ’70s and apparently still used its budget from the ’70s, so I pulled double duty. My first day of work I walk on in, and see two guys power washing the outside of the casino. One I noticed in particular. I remember thinking, “Wow, what a mighty fine piece of man meat!” Something just hit me about him, almost like a slap in the face. I remember checking him out whenever I could, asking my co-workers what his name was and what they knew about him, and trying to figure out what nationality he was. One night when one of my co-workers was talking with him, I decided to jump in, and promptly made an ass of myself. That still didn’t deter me. I was damn persistent, which I never have been before. I have always just sat on the sidelines when it came to men. But with JR, I jumped right in. Pretty soon, we started talking pretty frequently, and not long thereafter, we were inseparable at work. He would wait for me to get to work, we’d catch up on our lives over the past 17 hours, talk more when things were slow, hang out on our breaks together, and pretty much always stay near each other the whole time we were working. I remember one day I gave him my phone number. Let me repeat that: I GAVE HIM MY PHONE NUMBER WITHOUT BEING ASKED. I have never done that. And not too long afterwards, I get a text from him. That was it. I’m glad I had unlimited texting and calls because otherwise I would be working to pay my phone bill. He would pick me up from my apartment to go to work (with my crazy roommate, who thought we were an item, getting drunk nearby), and bring me back after I got out and we spent a little time together. Mind you, he left work at 8 AM, and he would come back to work just to pick me up at 11 AM. We got in trouble so much for spending so much time together at work, and we seemed to be quite the hot ticket for gossip at work. I remember even having management look at all of the cameras outside to see if we were leaving together; we played it slick and met a few stores down the road. He made me love going to work, but only just because I got to be near him.
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July 9, 2010
I am a new addition to this blog, and I am really happy to be a part of this. You can call me DRM, in relation to my user name on here. I am in my mid-20s, and I live in New York. I have a boyfriend who is two years older than me. Let’s call him SB. He’s hispanic, so yeah, I have a thing for hispanic guys. As of right now, I work in the corporate 9-to-5 office world, which is a total departure from when I was working in the Corps. I hope to go to medical school at some point soon.
I have dealt with a lot of things in my life so far, like an abusive father, drug addiction, medical problems, huge debt, crazy whirlwind love, an abusive boyfriend, an unplanned pregnancy, moving all over the country, making amazing connections with people, and just living a crazy life. I have been fortunate and unfortunate all at the same time, and I intend to share all of that with you. I will share my past as well as my present, in hopes of being able to offer new perspectives and new views to our readers seeking them, or perhaps inadvertently so. When I was asked to do this, I jumped at the chance, as I was thinking of starting my own anonymous blog to share everything with my readers in an open atmosphere without fear of having people act retarded and start stupid flame wars on my blog and stalk me via Facebook and Twitter.
So be prepared for the awesome, the awful, and everything in between. Life is like that.