And We'll Never Be Royals

It was an interesting week. First, there was Agent W's breakup. Then, there was the discovery that the face cream her mom has been using for eons includes not only a picture of the Savior on the bottle, but also her mother's name (it's the brand name apparently). Then, an article made the rounds about some woman who committed a crime and found ourselves on her "personal website" that included such gems as, "Madame Gisele is the multi-talented mogul and masterful genius behind so many ventures!", and, "By far one of the most intelligent and fascinating women every born". And then there was the most awesome throwback photo I have ever seen in my life that someone posted to Facebook (name redacted to protect the speshul party).

(After I sent her a photo)

W: I appreciate the porn lighting.
Me: LOL. I wasn't sure if you wanted it for you or because you needed an updated photo for your guide to the hottest holy whores 2015 guide.
W: This one's mine. The one for the guide calls for a spinning bed and tiger print silk sheets.
Me: And Mama B's Jesus cream. In all the right places. #PutTheLotionInMahBasket
W: LOL I forgot about that damn thing. We need to come up with a pervy tagline for that.
Me: Magdalena face cream - Jesus is coming.
W: YES!!! I wish I could share it with my mom.
Me: lol Yeah, don't do that. Marijuana Eyes would be on her bad list.
W: lol Nooooooo...I don't want to translate what coming means.
Me: LMAO. Como se dice, blasphemy?
W: LOL. Magdalena face cream - so good you'll come twice.
Me: Let's make the cream really thick and only fill the bottle halfway. Then. "Magdalena face cream - one second, it's coming"
W: LOL. OR "Don't stop - it's coming"
Me: LMAO. *bows down* Oh my god, it's coming.
W: LOL
Me: OR Magdalena face cream with a pic of Jesus on the front and the tagline, "Hold on, I'm coming".
W: LOL

(Talking about her plans for the single life)

W: I have a lot of ish to catch up on that I neglected because of him.
Me: That's right. Take back yo powah gurl!
W: LOL. Um, that includes getting laid.
Me: Well duh. I meant take back your power by whoring it up, Babylon style.

(She posts to Facebook about having let out an animal cry after a tough workout session)

Me: I heard that animal cry from here. Assumed you'd gotten you some.
W: LOL. Not yet.
Me: I thought it was some kinda native mating cry, like in "Lion King". Except instead of, "It's a lion, oh yes it's a lion", it'd be, "It's some sex, oh yes I'z about to have some sex".
Me: You can keep the mama say, mama sai part though
W: LMAO

==========

Friend: That's her personal website...dude it reads like a Kanye West song!
Me: I just read the whole thing and still don't know what she actually does. She looks like a drag queen though.
Friend: I thought both those things too! It's nothing but fluff.
Me: I love, "By far one of the most intelligent and fascinating women every born". You need to be straight and to the point yo. If I ever had a personal website (or an ego as big as hers), it'd be one page - "Madam Giuseppe will fuck you hard on the sink. After that, get you something to drink. P.S. - Bring something we can both drink."
Friend: LOL. Stop at the store before I'm all up in you. And who the fuck calls themselves Madam????
Me: Someone who can't spell it lol.
Friend: Feel free to call me Madame once in awhile.
Me: Madame Buttscratcher. That's what I'ma call you.
Friend: LOL. Fetch me thee royal ju-well encrrrusted butt scratchah!
Me: LOL. I totally read that as if I was a royal bitch too.
Friend: LOL! Me too

==========

(Photo posted to FB including - a giant ass fanny pack, mismatched pajamas, cows in the background, a glass of milk from said cows, random ass cornrows and a very interesting look plastered on someone's face.)

Me: lol You look like a special needs kid on a field trip.
Friend: lol Fuck off.
Me: LOL. You do! The mismatched clothing, the gigantic ass fanny pack...the cornrows that look like an attempt to be "cool". Not to mention holding your milk up like it's some big accomplishment.
Friend: LMAO. Well...when you put it that way.

(I edited the photo to add, "Got Dork?")

Friend: LMFAO! I wish Ellen would see it.
Me: lol Oh it definitely counts as an awkward family photo.

(Four hours later)

Me: Read your text, I don't understand it.
Friend: Okay, lemme break it down.
Me: Break it down for me like I'm you, circa 2001.
Me: *Holds up he milk proudly*
Friend: LMAO. Shit, I walked into that one so hard.
Me: LOL. You did, you did.
Friend: Well done.

The Way I Am

I had an interesting conversation today about how the relationships we witness in our youth affect the way we handle our own relationships when we grow up. Neither myself or the person I had the convo with have had the greatest relationship role models, and we were both raised by single mothers who ain't need no man (her mom is widowed, mine has never married though was engaged once to a man who passed away before they could marry). Everything the two of us have learned about relationships has been through our own trial and error. We never had those role models we could look to and be like, "Wow, that's how a relationship should be, I'm not gonna settle for less". We did, however, each have plenty of examples of what not to get involved with and, for the most part, I guess you could say we've avoided those pitfalls. But we've discovered we're both quite...uneasy in relationships. Her problem is that she seems to be a magnet for dudes who have some sort of health issue or who are too damn clingy, or both. She wondered out loud today if she subconsciously seeks out this type of guy because she feels as if she needs a challenge, a project, if you will, to work on. My problem is the boredom I mentioned in a previous post, and how I never let myself get too settled or comfortable in anything. It's almost a vicious cycle - I crave that whole contentment thing, would love to feel it at least once before I die, but I never let myself get settled enough to even come close to it. I always catch myself just before I settle into being truly comfortable with someone. While my friend would love a relationship where she's free to do her own thing sometimes without being accused of being interested in someone else or trying to push a dude away, I seem to not be able to get the hang of what "partnership" really means. I do my own thing and often make decisions on my own, when they should be made by both parties and affect both parties. And yet, because you know there has to be an enigma here somewhere, if I feel suffocated or like my freedom is being taking away from me, I leave because I'm not into that. What the hell, man? Where is the happy medium there? I wish I knew. Recently it was suggested to me that I psych myself into believing I'm not good at relationships and that, with the right one/woman, I would be able to change the patterns I've developed. Maybe there's some truth to that. But it's also just not that simple. Some things, some traits, are so ingrained in us that they cannot be changed. And that's okay. Part of getting to know and love yourself is realizing you can't change everything you want to. You were made the way you were made.

The Way That She's Whispering, The Way That She's Pulling You In

By now, you've likely seen a story about this song being banned from some Country radio stations because it's promoting a "gay agenda". *sigh* I just love stupid people, yo. First off, I don't know what a gay agenda is but if it includes music like this, consider me all in. Second, listen to the damn lyrics before you assume a song sung by a woman to another woman must mean both women are gay. The song is about being jealous of your ex-lover's new girlfriend because she has the person you want. Hence, you wish you were her because then you'd have him. Ironically, it's the kind of subject matter that Country music has built it's high horse upon and yet, there's backlash from idiots about the way it's being put forward in this song. And it's really the idiot's loss because this song is gorgeous (and I does not ever use that word lightly). I fell in love with it on first listen when the album came out and had it on repeat for a month. People who don't understand what it's about and think about lady lovin' can suck it (yes, even the men can suck it. Why? Because I'm on board with that gay agenda ish. *drops mic*).

Picked All My Weeds But Kept The Flowers

A friend dropped me a line today because they know that the month I fear most is on the horizon and wanted to make sure I'm doing okay heading into it. To tell you the truth, I've been so busy lately that it totally escaped my notice that April arrives in less than a week. Usually, I start to get sad around my mom's birthday because the countdown is on. But this year has been crazy so far, in a good way, and so I haven't had a chance to exhale until this infection business made me sit my dainty ass down. And now...well, over the last few days really, it's starting to set in. As we know, there are good things in my life that come from the month of April - Miss N will be 7 (SEVEN!!) in a few week's time, I'll be 34 a few weeks after that and my niece will be turning 16 (Jesus) that same week. And after all of that comes that day of remembrance that I dread most. This will be year number 13. God, it's bizarre to even write that. It simultaneously feels like less and feels like more. I've lived without her almost twice as long as I lived with her. Those suffocating days where I can't even breathe and don't want to move are few and far between now. I've learned that moving on and forgiving myself and living life is all okay to do and is not a betrayal to her in any way. But there are still good and bad days. You never forget, it never gets easy but the only choice is to keep living. We shall see how this next month shakes out...

The Victim Of Another's War

If it's one thing I've learned in this life, it's to not get too settled within it. Things change, in the blink of an eye things change, and everything you had can be lost. And frankly, my track record of holding onto things isn't that great to begin with. I was sure I'd spend the rest of my life with my first love, but that didn't turn out. I've been in one, maybe two relationships since then that I thought could go for the long haul, neither or them worked. Things fall apart, usually when you least expect them to, and that is something that is always at the forefront of my mind. I rarely let myself get too comfortable or settled in anything for fear that the rug will be pulled out from under me. But never is this more true than in my romantic relationships. In the past, I hid behind the excuse that I'd rather turn to substances instead of people for solace and because of that, I bailed out of just about everything at the first sign of trouble, or the first hint of, "Maybe you have a problem". It was like I could sense it was on the horizon so I packed my things and left before she could even say anything about it. It really was as easy as flipping a switch. My friends dubbed it, "The Click", which was just this random, seemingly normal moment where I crossed over from being into the relationship to not being into the relationship. And my behavior changed accordingly. There was never any escape from that click either, it happened in every single relationship, although some were worse than others.
Years later, while dealing with my issues, I discovered that a large part of this click was about boredom. I get bored very easily in all areas of my life - all-consumed with a book or a show one moment and then meh about it the next, super excited for a trip at one point and then dreading having to go when the time finally comes. But relationships have been this whole other animal for me where boredom creeps up, takes hold and makes me turn to other passions for excitement. And it has nothing to do with how exciting the person may be or how great things are going. It's like I go into stuff with this all in mentality and then slowly start pulling back the chips as things progress. Because it's just a matter of time before things crash and burn and it all goes to hell anyway, and I've no interest in being burnt by that flame when it actually happens. I know ya'll are wondering why I couldn't disengage from BP during one of these downtimes, what it was about her that kept me in the fold. It was manipulation, pure and simple. Yes, I had these times of boredom during our relationship but I never had that moment where I clicked and was done, not until the VERY end anyway. And she always knew how to lure me back into the fold in one way or another. She knew that when I care, when I love somebody, that love is unconditional, no matter what the future brings. And she exploited that by having a 'the sky is falling' moment every time she sensed I was on my way out the door. Months after we split, she found herself in quite the hole in all areas of her life. She still didn't believe we were done and texted me saying she needed my help because she was having to make big decisions. We spoke, off and on, for about a week and the whole time I kept thinking, "Wow, she is seriously not going to ask me a damn thing about my life, is she?". She asked once how I was doing, but nothing more. It was about her and her issues and her decisions and her life. I didn't protest any of this, never even brought it up, I just let the convo die and moved on. By then I knew that while I still cared enough to actually answer her messages, I never would've gotten the same courtesy if ish had been reversed. And oddly, that made me feel decent about myself because I saw I wasn't as screwed up a human being as I once thought. BP was an education...in so many things. But not how to alleviate the boredom or this damn click, unfortunately.
Someone who was instrumental in my getting my ish together was T, the first person I dated after my engagement came to an end. And boy, were things complicated there. She knew and was friendly with my fiancee and the fiancee and I knew and were friendly with T and her longtime boyfriend, David. In fact, David and the fiancee were also close friends, long before T and I came along. While the fiancee left me for her soon-to-be divorced longtime affair, apparently there was a snag in his divorce proceedings and she ended up in the arms of David. T and I didn't know this when we began dating, but the news of it sent both of us reeling a bit. It was amazing how much things had changed within a few years, for all of us. I normally have no problem keeping my cool around the ladies but T made me extremely nervous for some reason. Eight years my senior, she was sure of who she was and what she did and did not want in a partner. She had her ish together but in a slightly not together kinda way, if that makes sense. She'd also had a string of terrible dudes in her life, all of whom she had a hard time putting out when they treated her badly. I said I wouldn't do that and then proceeded to...well, kinda do that. Things were awesome for a few months, it was a very freeing time for both of us I think. And then the boredom kicked in and I turned back to using to try and fill the void. She was very anti-substances, so I kept my drug use from her but when she found out about it, all hell broke loose and we had a knock down, drag out fight about it. I was terrified of being alone so I told her I'd stop and gave her the same speech I gave a thousand times over about how I would change. And she bought it. And within a month, I was back to my old tricks. The root of all of my issues was, of course, the accidents and how I hadn't dealt with any of the fallout from them, but it was also that my trust was shot after the ish that went down with the fiancee. And instead of just being on my own for awhile and getting my crap together, I instead chose to jump into a relationship and take out my issues on T. She put up with me for awhile before finally calling it off and I barely put up a fight by the time she did. It was an ugly end to a rollercoaster of a relationship. We didn't talk for awhile, then tried again for a minute and then severed all ties before finally falling into an uneasy friendship. During that time of friendship, she wrote a rather extensive blog about all the men she'd dated in the past in an attempt to work through the drama and move forward. Of course, I got a mention and I cannot tell you how guilty I felt after reading it. I apologized a million times, both before and after the blog, and I was genuine in every apology. She accepted them, but we eventually lost touch altogether, which was probably for the best. I ran into her not too long ago and things were quite awkward, but she seems to be doing well, dating someone else and doing what she loves. I'm happy for her, she deserves all that, but I do think we're better off as acquaintances than anything else. The history there is just too much.
I feel like I'm in a similar place to where I was after my engagement ended. BP and I weren't close to that at all, but we did go through a lot and it did wreck me emotionally, albeit in a different way than being cheated on and lied to for years. I don't know which of them were worse, honestly, but the end result is the same - I'm far less trusting and I don't even trust myself enough to love anyone. The only difference is that I don't have the substance abuse issue this time around and instead throw myself into healthier hobbies when the boredom sets in. I'd like to think that another difference could be that I know better than to make someone else a victim of the last terrible relationship I was in, but I don't really know. I've noticed that anytime I sense something that even remotely reminds me of BP, I do a full on retreat to try and protect myself from getting hurt again. The only thing I can compare it to is a dog who was abused by an owner, who then ends up with a new owner but still gets afraid when he hears a loud noise or a voice being raised. Almost like it's foreign to have things not be so damn tense and up in the air all the time. Which is sad, really. I should be able to just sit back and enjoy the ease of some things. But there's always that fear that the rug will be pulled out again.

Mixed Up And Lost, You Showed Me Love At No Cost

So, Agent W is going through the break-up process and I'm trying my best to help her through it. This morning certainly helped as we laughed our asses off for an hour in a convo that included a reference to my mother's pepper spray incident from eons ago (still my favorite story in the history of ever), as well as Agent W's mother nearly choking to death but refusing to stop eating while doing so. And then there was the talk about how she couldn't get to sleep last night and I told her she'd pass out like a drunk, which she said I only wanted so I could take advantage of her. Oh, and there's the reference to a rough trick named Jim because she always jokes that I'd leave her for him if she ever lost her ability to support me. Yeah, we're idiots. But we're hilarious idiots. And that makes life better. I love you immensely, Agent W and we gon get you through this, gurl! *does a line of Oreos in solidarity*

W: So I passed out like a drunk. And I woke up all sore.
W: Was that you taking advantage of me?
Me: Oh sorry...I'm usually more careful than to leave soreness.
W: lol It's ok, I needed it rough last night.
Me: Oh, I'll give it to you rough. Or else my name ain't Jim #RoughTrick
W: LOL
==========
W: Good Lord. I can't remember how I described this guy to you, but I went out with him before the boyfriend, he expected to be the center of my universe...no friends, no family, just him. I haven't heard from him in awhile and he shot me an email this morning asking how I was doing. Timing, mang.
Me: Too bad he didn't come up to you in real life. You could pepper spray him and scream, "Not today, Satan!" as you reject all needy men.
W: LOL
Me: Or if you take after Mama C, pepper spray yourself while saying that lol.
W: lol Mother fucker.
Me: LOL
W: I'll pepper spray myself and keep eating.
Me: lol Like Mama B. And Homer Simpson
W: LOL
==========
W: LMAO. Mom casually "found" my bottle of nail polish on the floor...so she picks it up and walks off with it saying she'll bring it back. And she goes into a list of the "biggest lies ever told".
W: "I'll pay you back"
W: "Just the tip"
Me: LOL. Yeah, that's how I conned you into it last night too.
W: LMFAO
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W: I just figured out why this dude emailed me. He saw my profile back up on [dating site]. He sent me a message asking for another chance.
Me: No. You tell him no, dammit.
W: To the curb with you!
Me: You've literally been single for 5 minutes. Wtf is it with you and Mama B that got the boys running to the yard? Is it that oh, so sexy habit of choking to death whilst eating? Is it the Jesus shrine? #TheWorldMayNeverKnow
W: You listed HER habits...as if you like her more than me.
Me: Who did I roofie and spend hours waiting for them to pass out before having my way with them last night?! YOU.
Me: That's love, gurl.
Me: It's so much love, gurl.
Me: It's just some love, gurl.
Me: GURL YOU KNOW IT'S TRUUUUUUUEEEE
Me: Ooooooh, oooooooh, ooooooooh
Me: I drugged you.
W: LMAO

And I Think It's Gonna Be Alright, The Worst Is Over Now

What would you do if you woke up to find a number of missed calls placed late at night from somebody you love? You'd probably call them back to make sure everything was okay, right? In a time where texts are like handshakes, calls can sometimes be a way of conveying something more serious is going on. As my mom says, late night calls rarely bring good news. This is something I went through a lot (A LOT, A LOT) with BP. If I called her and didn't have a damn good reason for doing so, as in leaving a voicemail stating why I was calling or texting beforehand to say why, she didn't bother to return a single message. Sometimes even when I did say what my reason was, and even if it was something like a medical emergency, she still did nothing and later tried to justify it with, "Well, I didn't know what you wanted and I was busy," or, "Well, I didn't want to fight so I just didn't say anything to you". BP's motto was to ignore ish until it went away. And that's essentially what she did to me and why I did go away in the end. Somehow, "I love you" doesn't have the same emotional punch when the person saying it can't be bothered to return a damn message. And that's the boat Agent W found herself in this morning after a not so great night. She was locked out of her house and texted the boyfriend to inquire about staying at his place. No answer. Three calls at one in the morning and still no answer. Fortunately, she was able to crash at her BFF's place, but today things took yet another turn with the boyfriend.
After a long talk, Agent W and the boyfriend decided to fix the issues that had supposedly caused him to go out with another woman and, if that were to fail, they agreed to break up. Well, they didn't even make it that far. This morning, they exchanged texts about the situation. He knew she was fine, knew of her evening, but still never actually called to talk about it and that understandably chapped her ass. He said he didn't hear the phone the night before, but offered no explanation as to why three missed calls at one in the morning, from someone who never calls that late unless she's in need, didn't prompt him to call her back. She flat out gave him damn directions during today's texts, saying it was one of the few times she'd rather he call her instead of text to see what was up. He still did not call. Instead, he tried to defend himself by saying she hadn't told him why she was calling and never asked if she could stay with him. She said that didn't matter, that the late night calls should've been enough to alert him to the fact that something was up. Then he offers up, "Don't be hostile. I apologized.". As I learned firsthand from the BP debacle, apologies mean absolutely nothing if the behavior itself is not corrected. Much like BP, all this fool had to do was make a damn phone call to the person who should be one of the most important in his life. And it especially annoyed me to hear all of this because dude was already majorly in the doghouse but certainly wasn't behaving as if he was trying to keep Agent W in his life.
It's no secret that I'm no fan of this guy, I never have been but I've been a supportive friend because it's not like I was the one dating him. I'd have been out the door and down the block a year ago after the first other woman fiasco if I were Agent W. But then, I give up on my romantic relationships quite easily so I'm not the best gauge of when to leave. Still, as she was telling me all that had happened, I couldn't help but ask if today put the whole trying again thing in perspective and she said it had. I thought about it some more and offered up this - How many times have either of us gotten late night messages from the other about something serious and stopped whatever we were doing to talk it through? Neither of us are late night texters unless ish really hits the fan, and I'd venture to guess all of our loved ones are aware of this. And that's two people who are friends doing this stuff, not even two people who are lovers. The ultimate question being, "Why would you settle for less than that from a partner?". She'd drop my ass in a heartbeat if I was an apathetic and seemingly uncaring friend, so there's absolutely no reason to take that ish from someone you're dating. I knew she knew all this but felt it needed to be repeated. Twenty minutes later, she responded and said she'd ended the relationship altogether. I was surprised, especially that it had happened so quickly. But I could sort of feel how upset she was about it all, so it was probably the right move to end it. It'll hurt like a bitch for awhile but she's better off. And I'm proud of her for not taking his ish anymore.

I'm Not Sorry I Met You, I'm Not Sorry It's Over, I'm Not Sorry There's Nothing To Say

Seriously, what is it about a change in seasons that brings everyone you've ever lost contact with out of the woodwork? Spring is just days away and I heard from yet another ex this evening. But this time it was not BP and her ridiculous 'can we try again' nonsense. This time it was someone I honestly never expected to hear from again. This person and I were together off and on over several years and I was convinced she was it for me. But she never could commit to anything longterm and I eventually got tired of waiting. But I didn't get tired of hooking up whenever we were both single and lonely, something that only came back to bite me because I always got my hopes up that it would lead to a real reconciliation and it never did. She always was upfront about how it wouldn't end up that way, but hope springs eternal. Then late last year, we had a situation that turned out to be make or break time. You know how older folks can tell you where they were when Kennedy was shot? Well, I can tell you where I was, what was in my head and how the earth briefly stopped turning every time I've had my heart broken. And last September was one of those times. I knew that I would have to let her go altogether if the outcome to our situation wasn't what we were both hoping for, but I don't think I actually played that moment through in my mind before it happened. I'd come to the conclusion, but I hadn't really made peace with it. And when that moment came to pass, I was a wreck. It broke my heart and made me so sad about everything we'd gone through, that this was how it all came crashing down. I've since recovered, but I still remember the feeling quite well.
I hadn't heard from her since I ended our friendship, something she never wanted me to do but said she understood. Tonight, in a hormone-induced frenzy, she texted me and went on about how scared she is about the state of her life and what's on the horizon. She asked me if I thought there was ever another chance for us down the road. And she apologized for us ending up the way we did, pointing out how I was always there for her, even after a few nasty ends. My answers to her questions were quite evasive as I know better than to poke around at the hornet's nest that is our shared history, but I found myself feeling very...torn. Unlike the dynamic between BP and I, where she took all she could from me but rarely gave, this person was also there for me through so much and I never questioned that I could call on her when in need. And the reverse was also true. Shortly after we'd called it quits, she called me in tears after finding out her brother had been killed. I dropped everything and flew to her and we spent the next four or so days holed up in her apartment while she drifted in and out of sleep and depression and talked through everything. We went to the funeral together and the get together that came after. And the next night I left and we agreed that friendship was all that was left for us. It didn't work out that way in the long run since we started hooking up again a year or so later, but as I left I really thought that was it for us. And you know...maybe it shoulda been. Would've saved me last year's heartbreak and it certainly would've been a more fitting end for us. That said, I do still care because she's amazing and deserves so many good things out of life. And I truly hope she gets them. But we both need to get that I can't be the one to give those things to her.

You're Finding Things That You Didn't Know, I Look At You With Such Disdain

I firmly believe we all need at least one person in our life, besides a family member, who will love us even when we find it impossible to love ourselves. Family members can sometimes feel obligated to do that but a friend who does it for no other reason than the fact that they love you is something special. Those are friends you hold onto because they don't come around too often. Agent W is one of those friends for me. Almost a year ago, I wrote this post detailing some ish that went down between her and the boyfriend. You'll recall I've never been a big fan of his, especially after he tried to tell her that two of us should not be friends anymore, but I've supported her decision to remain with him, the same way she supported mine to keep inviting BP back into my life even though she couldn't stand BP. My decision to keep going back was just that - my decision. The same way she now faces a decision of her own in dealing with this dude she's with. It appears that he did not learn from the mistake he made a year ago when he got caught exchanging suggestive texts with a female who was not his girlfriend. Instead, he went the opposite way and now...well, we shall see what happens now.
This morning Agent W told me she caught this mofo texting another woman again, only this time there was something else he confessed to. He went out with this chick a handful of times over the past month. Like on dates, apparently. The reason? Well, that's the most ridiculous part of all. He claims he did it because Agent W was not giving him enough attention. I mean...really, dude? That's such juvenile behavior, in my humble opinion. If you're in something and you love someone and you're committed to them, that ish shouldn't even cross your mind. Be an adult and say, "Hey, I feel like we need to reconnect, I miss you, let's make some time to spend together". You don't go seek attention elsewhere just because you don't feel you're getting enough, and frankly, I don't think there's such a thing as enough attention for this fool since he wanted every moment of her time in the beginning too. I also remember him accusing her of having other options on a few occasions when she encouraged them to each spend time without each other, going out with friends outside of the relationship, etc. That's also ridiculous. He says he never got physical with this chick but cheating is cheating in my book, whether it be physical or emotional. What's disturbing to me is that this pattern of behavior is escalating, instead of being scaled back. She never did get to see the full context of his messages last year but chose to charge ahead regardless, so one can only guess as to whether or not it was innocent. But it also makes me wonder how much further that whole thing went, or would've gone had she not caught him. Obviously, she did but she stayed and took that inch and ran a mile this time around by actually dating another person. What's to stop him from becoming physical with the next chick? And you best believe there will be another chick down the line at some point if she stays and no major changes are made. The situation reminds me of a kid trying to see how much they can get away with before their parent finally says, "Enough". It also sets a few more pieces of the puzzle in place for me. I remember us talking about how clingy he was early on and how so many exes had cheated on him that it made him paranoid and I was thinking there had to be more to it than just every woman being a cheater. She agreed but also wasn't sure what that 'more' was. And I think this is what it is. He wanders when he's unhappy or when he's not the center of some chick's world and then, I'd venture to guess, he plays the victim when that chick has had enough and gives him a taste of his own medicine. I'm not saying either of those things is right, mind you, but I can see how the scenario happens. The difference this time is that Agent W is almost endlessly patient and isn't going to turn around and do the same to him, so instead she's stuck it out and here they are.
As I wrote in my post a year ago, trust is earned. And much like one's reputation, it takes forever to build up and one careless act to shatter. At the moment, Agent W is trying to decide what to do about it and whether or not to stay. I gave my two cents, I'm sure I won't be the only one, and I will stand by her regardless of what her decision is. But I do know which outcome I'm rooting for. I adore her and she is without question one of my closest friends and partners in crime. I don't like to see anyone I love hurt or mistreated, but she's one of those people that only deserves good things out of life. And most of all, she deserves a great dude in her life. Someone who isn't going to seek attention elsewhere just because she doesn't spend her every waking moment with him. Further complicating matters is that she's grown close to his family and maybe that also factors into what she decides to do. But I feel like that should almost be an afterthought. No decision is going to be painless, I would think staying would entail some major changes taking place and obviously leaving entails even more changes. But, for lack of a better term, this is one of those 'take back your power' moments she has to grab onto. She was wavering in whether or not she wanted to stay with him even before this anyway. And it sucks that I can't be of more help, but I reckon this is how she felt when I bitched about BP and then took her back, only to bitch some more about how I was being mistreated. Agent W and I spoke not too long ago about how happiness is a choice and it's not always one either of us has always made correctly. But I hope this is the time she chooses happiness.

Whatever Happened To You?

You know that thing where you sometimes wish when/if you run into an ex, they'll look like hell and it'll make you feel better about yourself? Yeah, well sometimes it don't work that way. I caught a glimpse of BP today and it was...disturbing. Despite the fact that we were never friends on social media (except for a brief period when she followed me on Twitter), she popped up as a person I may know and I clicked on the profile because I didn't recognize the person in the photo. It was indeed her, but she was freakishly skinny. Her arms reminded me of those you see on someone with an eating disorder, which is kinda scary. But knowing her, it's likely the result of too much travel, too much stress and not taking care of herself. Even so, it didn't make me feel good to see what she's become. But I can't say I was totally shocked. She never took care of herself and never had anyone around who encouraged it or took it upon themselves to do that for her (aside from me). In fact, she visited the ER twice during our time together and both times engaged in stupid behavior hours after being discharged. On the last occasion, when she'd visited for an asthma attack, she went out the very next night, less than 24 hours since she'd gone to the hospital. Her best friend, knowing of the visit the day before, encouraged her to take a shot as a way of dealing with all that was wrong in her life. And then she took five more and proceeded to lay into me on her way home from the bar, drunk off her ass and still complaining about breathing issues. The incident made me think even less of her friends than I already did at the time and kinda showed me the type of person I was dealing with. She also took up smoking towards the end of us, the dumbest ish ever for an asthmatic, and in the beginning of us, she often complained about not being able to afford to eat anything but cheap stuff, yet still proceeded to find a way to buy alcohol and go out with her friends on a regular basis. And every one of these things increased tenfold when she worked, which I hear she's been doing non-stop since we split. It's sad, really. We weren't compatible as lovers and probably not even as friends, but I never wish bad things on anybody and it's sad when someone you once cared about becomes so unrecognizable. Still, what happened between us remains in my head and her life is none of my business so I blocked the profile from coming up again and moved on. Sometimes I wish I was one of those people who could stop caring about a person immediately. But more often, I'm glad I am not that way, even with all the drawbacks there can be in caring.

The World Is Black, The World Is White

You know what really grinds my gears? People who say racism is no longer a problem in this country. People who say this usually reason it with, "We have a black president", as if his election instantly abolished racism when, in fact, it may have exacerbated the problem. Think back and try to remember the last time a president was so questioned about every little thing, from his birthplace to whether or not he should be taking a day off. Try and recall the last time a president was fought so hardcore on literally EVERY decision he made, no matter how big or small. I'm sure Republicans would raise holy hell if he wanted to change the brand of napkins used in the cafeteria on Capitol Hill. Why? I'd venture to say it's because he's black and a lot of people, most of them likely Republicans, don't like taking orders from a black man. Saying, "Oh, you got your black president so all your race problems are solved" is like telling a morbidly obese person, "Oh, you got your gastric bypass so you're skinny now". It's not that simple. And it's simply not true.

Nothing works me up quite like the subject of racism and I got an early start today when Agent W texted me about a post a friend of hers made on Facebook. In this post her friend, a white guy, asks why minorities are so quick to pull the discrimination card and bitches about how white men have it the worst because there's no such card for them to pull. Really? White people, particularly white men, have it easier than anyone, even on their worst day. They're paid more than anyone else and they face basically no discrimination because of their skin color. Also, it's laughable that all in one breath the dude is accusing others of playing the race card all the time, while wishing he could play the same card. Hypocritical much? I don't understand this obsession some white folks have with talking about how hard it is to be them. Apparently he's getting all kindsa backlash about the post, as he should be since it was a dumb thing to say in the first place.

Listen, as a minority and the father of a bi-racial girl, I'd love to be able to say that racism is dead and my child will have it far easier than I did growing up. But we're not there yet, not even close. I was taunted and teased as a kid for being this dark kid with green eyes in an environment where everyone else was a dark kid with dark eyes. My ethnicity was questioned, by kids and adults alike, because of something as stupid as eye color. In high school, Y and I visited a mall in the nicer part of town and while she was able to wander around stores without being given a second look (she's mixed but can pass for white), I was followed through them and kept under the watchful eye of store associates, as if I were some kind of threat. Some minorities do needlessly play the race card, but there are others, myself and most minority folk I know included, who don't even think like that. Yes, we're aware when a slight or a joke or something may have racial undertones to it, but that's no reason to whip out the race card and make it a federal case. Because it happens more than white folks probably believe it does and, frankly, it's not always worth the effort to make a big deal out of it. You get used to it, sadly. It's interesting how the white folks didn't get their panties all in a bunch about how hard it is to be white until Obama was elected. Maybe they think that if they're the opposite skin color of the person in office, they're the ones who are minorities? It's disturbing how this, "woe is me, I'm white" thing seems to be catching on. Let's hope it's just a phase. After all, they wouldn't want to be accused of playing the race card, now would they?

Trying To Stop Your Leaving

A few months back, I wrote of the marital troubles my cousin and his wife were having, causing many of us to believe divorce was in the cards. Fortunately, the holidays seemed to put them back on track and they re-committed to their marriage and had been doing well throughout January and part of February. Their issues stem from a couple of things, the first being that they married fairly young and spent the first eight or so years of their marriage happily going out often and drinking a good amount. He was more cautious than she was about the drinking because addiction runs in our family and we're all very much aware of it. Her drinking continued after he all but quit, and was finally curbed when they decided to have kids. She wasn't exactly an addict but, like me, the substances had become a crutch so she did get some help to make sure it never happened again. Then they found out they likely can't have a baby and the whole thing went to hell. She started drinking again for a minute but then threw herself into work and travel, much of it without her husband. He was fine with it in the beginning, letting her deal with her ish and all that, but it dragged on for awhile and they fell into a grey area about what exactly they were doing. Christmas was pretty much make or break and I was glad that they decided to get it together and try again. But now comes word that they've brought their old problems into the new year.
My cousin DMC is the one who notices all of this stuff because he works close to the other cousin and they see each other all the time (they also both married Boston girls, unfortunately). But while he sees all that goes on, for some reason he thinks someone else should be the one to say something about it, particularly me. I'm guessing that's because I have no problem telling it like it is when I have something to say, although I do think it through before I comment on someone else's relationship since it really isn't my business. I did talk to both parties around Christmas and one of the things I put emphasis on was that things don't get fixed if you never talk about them, and you never talk about them if you're always both doing your own thing. That seems to be what they've fallen into once again. He traveled with her and all that for about a month, but then went back to work and it's like they're in separate lives again. They don't talk everyday and when they do talk, it's about basic ish like how their days were and not about the relationship itself. I know he wanted to try counseling and she wasn't a big fan, but short of that I don't know what could help them now. I'd hoped seeing my brother's marriage finally head down the path of divorce would wake them both up so they could see that things aren't all that bad. Yeah, it must be awful to not be able to have children, especially when you always saw that as a part of your plan, but it's not the end of the world. They could always still go forward with the adoption process, they know what it entails since they were kept in the loop by my sister when she adopted Mr. R some years back. But that doesn't happen if they can't get back to a good place.
This song came to mind as I was writing all of this. I don't know what their feelings are, they both said they still adore each other a few months ago but that life just got too hard and there's some sort of mental block there now. I feel like a mental block shouldn't be enough to keep two people who love each other apart, especially people who have loved each other for over a decade. I guess it's all just wait and see now, no one can do the work or decide whether to put in the work except for the two of them. And that sucks.

My Worries Here Have Allowed A Momentary Refrain

So here's something interesting. I saw red flags in the beginning with BP, very early on in fact, but charged ahead anyway into a relationship. And for roughly 85% of that relationship, she treated me like crap and frustrated the hell out of me. And yet, when there aren't any red flags and everything seems pretty good with someone else, I hesitate. Why? Well, that's a good question. And the easy answer is because BP fucked me over and fucked me up. I can't count on one hand the number of times I felt like she genuinely liked me for me and not because of the ego boost I provided. And those times were almost all in the beginning of things. The more time went on, the more I felt I was there to serve as her whipping boy, not as her partner. If we fought and she asked to work it out, the conversation was a 30 minute rant about all I'd done wrong, and then she'd conveniently have to leave when it was my turn to speak. If I was honest and open about my feelings, she immediately pounce on what she didn't like and defend herself to the death over it. The problem with that is she rarely defended herself against what I'd actually said and instead went on the attack about what she'd allegedly heard. I confronted her about this many times and she admitted that she knew she was twisting things but claimed that's just how she heard it and she didn't know how to fix that. Eventually, I was too tired to care and stopped fighting. But it took a moment of clarity to get me to that place. I don't remember what prompted the conversation, but it was one I wish we'd never had. I rarely spoke to BP at night when we were apart because she always, ALWAYS, passed out mid-convo and unapologetically so. That and the fact that when she drank she got even meaner made me decide early on that I wanted no part of any of that (though she still got me a few times). On this occasion, she begged for resolution to something and I gave in. The convo was strained but decent and then she clammed up again and it was awkward and I just broke down. I was dealing with a lot in my own life and our issues on top of everything else really got to me. She asked what was wrong and I told her I couldn't explain because it require me to lower my shields and be vulnerable with her and I knew I could no longer do that as it had only ever bitten me in the ass. She asked again and I relented, explaining the stress I was under and how much I wanted us to just not be so damn hard all the time. A few minutes of silence elapsed and then she asked me the same question again, why I was so upset. I assumed maybe she couldn't understand me through my emotion, so I repeated it very clearly and we fell into silence again. She spoke some jibberish about not liking where things were and then, less than five minutes later, asked me yet again why I was so upset. This time I knew she'd heard me the second time because she acknowledged what I'd said as the words were leaving my mouth. My emotion cleared up in an instant as I wondered wtf was wrong with her that she was asking me the same question repeatedly when I'd already answered it. Then, the real stunner came when she claimed I'd never told her once why I was upset and that she'd just spent the last 15 minutes waiting for me to answer and I'd said nothing in that time. Like...WHAT. THE. FUCK. It was bizarre. And it made me sick because I felt like she was screwing with me and making light of my brain issues, she knew full well that I have trouble with short-term memory. The whole thing felt like one big mindfuck that she was doing for kicks and I said as much and then she backtracked and said she'd never claimed I hadn't told her why I was so emotional. By then, I was seeing her for what she really was and I ended the conversation soon after. That was the loudest and last big lesson about vulnerability that I learned the hard way.
It makes me sound like a beaten down wife or some ish, but post-BP dating was like a whole new world. The Youngin was into me and liked me and treated me very well, but I held back because of our age difference and because I assumed the niceness was a product of her having not been so jaded by life and relationships yet. Lu and I were quite casual, more a fling than a relationship, but I remember her being taken aback by how I went inside myself whenever conflict came up, no matter how small. I told her the reasons behind it and she went out of her way to let me know that she was not BP, which I found to be extraordinary given that we were just casual. Neither of them ever took advantage of me or made me feel stupid for opening up, albeit only slightly. They were kind to me, knowing the crap I'd just gotten out of (The Youngin compared it to me having been paroled). While I'm thankful to both of them for how they handled me emotionally, all involved knew there was no longterm relationship potential with either of them so I was never really compelled to open up all the way. But now someone's come into the picture who may have potential and I don't think I'm handling it all that well. I've been open about my feelings, maybe, twice and felt some semblance of regret each time, not because the feelings are bad at all, but because I'm so used to my feelings being met with a long pause and then some kind of insult. BP made me feel as if I were emotionally high-maintenance when in reality, I'm not. I think she just didn't want to deal with anyone's feelings but her own so no matter what I told her, unless it was something nice about herself, she tuned out but not before throwing in a jab or two. And that eventually wore me down until I became...well, what I am now. But these two times I've let my feelings out have turned out to be okay. I said how I felt, I had a moment, however brief, of vulnerability and I didn't get hurt and the world didn't end. And that was really nice and very foreign to me, sadly. Compliments have always made me slightly uncomfortable but I'm finally learning to say, 'thank you'. Hopefully, I can also learn that not everyone is out to throw my feelings back in my face or steamroll over them as effortlessly as BP. And maybe the key to learning that is having people around who couldn't even fathom doing half the ish she did.

Come Play With Us, Danny!

That hilarious moment when you turn a convo about coconut water into a remake of the "Pina Colada Song", with a brief detour through "The Shining". #Winning.

W: It's good stuff, join us Giuseppe!
Me: "Come hydrate with us, Giuseppe. Forevah and evah and evah.
W: Creeeeeeepyyy. I'm picturing the girls giving us refreshing coconut water with little umbrellas...
Me: And then the scene goes from creepy to islandy when the P.A. system kicks on, "If you like pina coladaaaaaaas, taking an ax to the brain!"
W: LOL
Me: If you're not into leaving, if you love you some pain. If you love talking to yourself at midniiiiiight. And the ugly womaaaan bellyaches. I'm the hotel you've looked for. Come visit and never escape!
W: LOL
Me: lol Well, that's about as productive as I'll be all day.
W: Me too. And you did all the work lol.
Me: Well usually I'm the one laying on my back while you do the work. So we were due a switch lol.

You Keep Me Wide Awake And Waiting For The Sun

I've often been complimented on my impeccable manners, but I can't really take credit for them. The siblings and I were raised with an emphasis on manners. "Please" and "Thank you" were requirements in our household and there was never any reason to not be polite. Even if you hate a mofo, you mind your manners and shut your trap. I'm thankful that I was raised this way because it serves me well in adulthood. After almost 34 years, my politeness is on autopilot. I say "please" and "thank you" and "ma'am" and "sir" without even thinking about it. I don't know why there was such emphasis on this, more so than in other households most likely, but my sister thinks it has to do with our Southern roots. Grandpa was a Southerner and, though he died young, grandma made sure her kids knew how to be as respectful as he was. That bled into my generation and will no doubt be a major part of Miss N's life. I lucked out there as she seems to grasp the concept of manners and altruism and respect on a level that is beyond her six and a half years, and I'm extremely proud of her for that. Especially because we're living in a world where manners are becoming more the exception than the rule.
There is a saying that goes something like if you're expecting someone to love as hard as you do/treat you as well as you treat them, then you'll be sorely disappointed. Funny thing about humans is we have that whole free will thing going on and many of us are very different people. What's considered respectful to one person can be considered extremely rude by another. Such was the case with BP. She seemed respectful and decent when things began, but whenever ish hit the fan, she did a complete 180. It was self-preservation above all and, after a year of this, I realized that self-preservation would always come out on top. BP lived in her own little world. If she needed to go to a meeting or whatever else, she'd say as much and leave without waiting for any kind of response from me, even if we were in the middle of a make or break conversation. When she wasn't doing that, she would pass out mid-conversation, usually after she'd said what she needed to and it was her turn to be listening to me. Later on, her M.O. became to ignore me altogether and write it off later by saying she was just "busy". Pardon my French but, fuck that noise. I knew any and everyone else were getting her time and attention, the reason I got less of it was because she assumed that loving unconditionally meant I would always be around, no matter how badly I was treated. And for a good, long while, I was too damn polite to treat her the way she was treating me; ignore her messages, avoid her and not be there when she needed to sort shit out. But once I did start doing that, boy did the tables turn. I'm the type who is not great at keeping in contact with people, but will go out of my way to do so with those I consider to be my inner circle. Yeah, I feel bad when I don't return a text or keep in touch with anybody who is important to me, but I never don't return the messages of the inner circle folk. And for awhile, BP was one of those with that priority kind of access. As such, even when in conflict or when I was telling myself I was done for the umpteenth time, I still could not physically stop myself from responding to her. Once I reached the point of zero fucks given, that became effortless. And it was about the only thing that got through to her. After I stopped beating down her door and begging for her time, she finally looked up and realized I was tuning out. Unfortunately for her, she realized it much too late and I was already out the door and down the block by the time she gave me a tiny bit of her attention. Even that spoke volumes too - our relationship was about to end, for real this time, and I told her one day, one hour of trying to work on it may make all the difference, and she still couldn't be bothered to put in more than one minute of effort. Why keep trying when you know the other person would never try for you? That's what my final straw was.
I'd never abandon my manners by the wayside, regardless of what the reason was. I'm as respectful now of people as I was before BP but I know that I did slip some during our time together. She brought me to new lows in many ways and I'm still crawling back out of that pit we fell into. And now I have some company. It was eons ago, but I documented here that Y has trouble dealing with Miss L's paternal grandparents. The drama ebbs and flows but has mostly been between them and her and not involved anyone else, including Miss L's dad who is usually a great guy. There has never been any love lost between Y and his parents, but she and Miss L's dad have a lot of history and I don't think he's ever not been in love with her. He was the first guy she dated after her divorce debacle and he proved to be more than worthy of her rather quickly. He knew what she'd been through and was willing to take it as slowly as possible so that they could build something that would last, and he was also a fan of going slow because he'd recently gotten out of a seven year relationship that everyone, his parents included, believed would result in marriage. Things were great for the two of them early on...and then she met his family. They took an immediate dislike of her when they saw she's not Puerto Rican and that was pretty much the end of any relationship she may have had with his family. They weren't even polite about it to her face, they always made comments about the difference in race and acted like his being with her was the end of the damn world. Because of this, Y called time out on the relationship many times, even though she would've loved nothing more than to commit to him for the long haul. But knowing what she'd be up against the rest of her life if she did was too much. They were off and on for years and then Miss L came along. He wanted to marry, Y resisted but they did try staying together again. His parents had a meltdown over their grandchild being "half undesirable" (their exact words) and it caused friction between all when he chose Y and Miss L over them. The whole thing caused so much unnecessary stress during what should've been an exciting time, especially since it was their first grandkid. But they insisted on making things nasty at every gathering and every event and just kept chipping away at Y and she ended the romantic relationship with Miss L's dad, hoping co-parenting would be easier. At the very least, it would prevent her from having to deal with his family. Eventually, they accepted the kid but still refuse to acknowledge the other half of her heritage and at one point were filling her head with BS about how she shouldn't even claim it and should just say she's Puerto Rican and nothing else. When Y found out about this, she was livid and made it clear to the ex and his family that if it happened again, she would make sure his parents no longer saw her. It stopped and things had settled down for awhile. But now old rivalries have been renewed. The ex has known about her and who she's dating and both guys have even met on a number of occasions. But he did not know they were engaged and that's caused major friction again. He's started acting out by being late returning Miss L and not answering messages and being combative when he and Y have to cross paths. He's being a prick because he can be one, and because he thought her relationship with this dude was temporary and she'd eventually end up with him. This has led to a few knock down, drag out arguments between them, not in front of the kid but still. She's mad at herself for engaging and for getting so nasty towards him, when really her anger is at his family and the situation in general. Having been right there with me through the BP drama, she feels like she's living it all over again and this time she's taken on my role. His parents have now started to involve themselves, telling him to take her to court and try and get custody because her place is "unsafe" and because she leaves Miss L with "strangers" when she travels for work. It's fucking stupid. She leaves Miss L with me or her future step-father when she leaves, and it's rare that she's gone for very long anyway. She'd love to leave her with her father but this kind of shit is why she chooses not to. And he knows all this and was hunky dory with it until he realized she's never coming back to him. Y is nervous about what comes next and has no choice but to wait and see if he goes through with what his parents want him to do. And that sucks. And I can't help, my custody woes were sudden and I had no wait time at all. So we all just wait. Worst of all, I recently started working on something with the dude and I'm finding it hard not to lose my damn religion every time we have to speak. I'd love nothing more than to set my manners on the shelf for awhile, and tell him how I really feel. But I can't, and won't do that. I sure hope he gets his head out of his ass soon, grows the fuck up and does what's best for his child and not for his parents (for once).

Arthur, He Does Who He Pleases

My cousin's girlfriend and I have an argumentative, brother/sister kind of relationship. She's one of the smartest smartasses I know and somehow the week isn't complete until we harass one another. I have her in my contacts only by her last name because her first name is so demure and doesn't fit the sailor's mouth she has on her, while her last name is Irish and fits just perfectly. She has me in her contacts as "Arthur" because...well, you can probably figure out that one if you've ever seen the movie. But at the end of the day, I love her and I'm glad she may be part of the family fold down the line. And here's why:

Me: Dude, I saw this lady on an ID show who looked just like you.

Me: Except, you know, she was actually a lady.

AK: LMAO. Fuck you so hard, Artie.

Me: LOL. That's right, show me what a lady you is. That'll get me back!

AK: lol I am a lady, fuck you very much.

Me: *Faux offense at such language*

AK: You like ladies who use that word. No, wait...you like to do that word to ladies. No, no...not ladies, crazy bitches.

Me: True, true, false. They're not all crazy lol.

AK: LOL. That...will be on the keychain I get you for your birthday. Because not all of them being crazy is basically all you've accomplished in 33 years.

Me: LOL. Fuck you so hard right back.

Ours Was Just A Love Gone Wrong

BP reaching out to me provoked many responses from those that care about me. Most of those responses were angry. Not at me, but at her for having the balls to contact me after all that's happened. And it turns out she wasn't done with just the one text, as she messaged again saying that she feels no one knows her like I do (did), and that's why she can't fully move on. I still didn't respond but, for once, she's right. I did know her better. I was the first person in her life to call her on her crap and do it in a way that wasn't mean or putting her down or walking away completely at the first sign of trouble. Both her fathers left, her mom was a nightmare, her closest brother was only there for her when it was convenient for him (must be a family trait), and her friends were extremely fair weather. She tried endlessly to mend fences with her fathers, who were less than interested. She forgave her mother multiple times a day for various insults and general meanness. She swept the fact that her brother was 100% there for her unless she really needed him under the rug. And she took only a few days to forgive friends who talked behind her back and/or called her names right to her face. And then I came along and I didn't do any of that. She needed me, I was there, no matter how minor the issue. She needed to vent about family or friends, I listened. She tried to fix things between us multiple times and I gave in every time and did my part. I knew her so well that I could tell you what her excuse or defense would be to almost everything I'd say to her. I knew that if she went MIA after a fight, she would resurface the next day with a, "Hey" message that she assumed would snowball into a reconciliation. I knew all of this because I knew her and, for a long time, I bent over backwards to make sure she was good, even when I wasn't. The thing is, she never knew me. Not all of me and not in the way someone who loves you should know you. Sure, she thought she knew everything and always tried to anticipate how I would feel about something or how I would react, even telling me what I was feeling on a few occasions (and almost always wrong about it). So while I don't disagree with her assessment that I knew her oh so well, it means nothing to me because it wasn't a two way street. I don't want to spend my time with someone who can't be bothered to really know me and who only keeps me around because of how well I know them.

Sometimes I feel resentment or anger towards BP. But I should feel that towards myself for allowing it to continue as long as it did. Lately though, I just feel...well, not much towards her. Obviously I don't love her, but, as with everyone I've crossed paths with for any length of time, I do still care about her in some way. Not the way I used to, but the way I care about any former lover. And hearing this song pretty much summed up just how I feel about her nowadays. We didn't work, we were a nightmare at times, but I don't wish ill on anyone. Everything for a reason.

"You had your red flags up and raised

More traffic than east L.A

But I drove in anyway

My common sense on holiday"

Take This Job And Shove It

I adore my mother. She's without question one of the strongest, funniest and most caring people that I know, or ever will know. She's where I get my ridiculous and offensive sense of humor from and I am eternally grateful for that. Not to offend any of the rest of ya'll, but she's probably the best mother out there. We didn't have much growing up but somehow we always had enough, and we always were able to do fun stuff and have nice things. And she loves all three of her kids (who'd have guessed I'd grow up to be less of a problem child than the brother, huh?), regardless of how much we screw up or how many bad decisions we make. And she's been through so much with us; accidents, weeks in the NICU (with both us and the grandkids), substance issues and overall stupidity. She's also probably where I inherited my sometimes misguided sense of loyalty. We're both extremely loyal, to the point where it is sometimes detrimental to our own well being (cue the meltdown I should be having about how I've turned into my mother). For me, this flaw surfaced in my last relationship drama. For her, it's surfacing in her work life. And that's not a good thing at all.
For most of my childhood, mom worked at a bank, a job she did very well and had started long before we came along. Then, she was laid off and ended up at a financial company that also eventually laid employees off and left town. She finally was able to settle in during our teen years in the pawnbroker business, beginning as an employee and then ascending up the ranks to management. It seemed as though she would be managing her own store soon when a customer came in to try and buy a gun illegally and she refused to sell it to them. Her own manager said to do the sale, but she still refused because if that gun was then used to commit a crime, she would be wide open to charges being filed against her. Plus, it was, you know, illegal anyway. She was fired for that and unemployed for a few years, before moving and finding a new job that she wasn't crazy about. A few job changes later, she's at a place she loathes that is a complete fucking mess and has caused her more stress than any other job she's had. As if that weren't enough, it's also now costing her the chance to find a better work situation.
I've discussed this place my mother works at before, the last post being about when they did not issue her a paycheck and "didn't know" when they'd be able to do so. This is the kind of shit that is the norm there. She used to get monthly bonuses that rarely came on time, if they came at all, and recently received a raise that has not yet been put into the system nearly three months after she was promoted. It's always chalked up to being that the one person in the whole company who does the financials is too busy to take care of it or some other crap excuse. She's so jaded by the pay issues that she doesn't even have the energy to fight about them anymore, which is costing her a dollar an hour every single day. There are far more issues beyond that, but we'll be here forever if I list them all. She's wanted to leave and hopefully get back into banking or office work for sometime now, but only got serious about it a year ago. Since then, she's been applying and sending out resumes and getting some interest. But everything has ultimately ended up falling through, which fucking sucks. She had a wonderful interview late last year with a company that wanted her to run a new division of their business (my mom is total management material, she could manage a small country if need be). There was a second interview and she'd been told by one of the interviewers that she would likely be hired as all their other candidates were less experienced. A week went by with no word and then, only after she contacted them, they said they'd decided not to hire anyone at that time. Another job she lost out on went to a far less experienced co-worker who's only talent was for fucking around on the clock, rather than working. Last week, she was invited to test for a job with the city and did so earlier in the week. She didn't think she would get it because of her scores but they asked to interview her and sounded quite interested. Unfortunately, the snow overtaking the country closed other divisions of her company and left her site as the only one open, meaning they're super busy. She's also the only supervisor in town from yesterday til Monday because the scheduling is fucking stupid. They wanted her to interview on Wednesday, but she couldn't and said as much while thanking them for the opportunity. They responded by asking if she wasn't interested or if the time was just inconvenient and offered up other times, but she said Tuesday was the earliest and it wasn't fair to make them wait that long. They need to make a decision before that so they wished her well and that was all, folks.
Sadly, I don't think any of us gets our hopes up when mom gets a lead on a job, even if there's an interview. Because it hasn't worked out yet and it's inevitably a letdown when it doesn't. But I had a good feeling about this one and I think she would've gotten it if not for her loyalty to the hell hole she works in now. Everyone in that places comes and goes as they please for whatever reason they want, including interviews with other companies, but she's never done that. Part of that is because of the money obviously, but the other is just that she isn't that kind of person. Love it or hate it, you do the job you are being paid to do. But that's interfering with her being able to find something better and more fulfilling. I suspect that if she'd called in sick and done the interview, she probably would've gotten the job. We talked about all of this today and I told her basically what I'm writing here, that she should just fuck that place and go for it the next time she gets a lead on something. Surprisingly, she agreed and says she intends to do just that. I hope it works out that way, and I hope she gets out from under it very soon. She's way too good for that place.

We Might Be Crazy Enough To Make History, Cuz The World Just Ain't The Same Since We Got Together

I discovered Little Big Town by accident years ago before they became famous. They remind me of Fleetwood Mac in some ways and the harmonies are just ridiculous. I fell for this song immediately upon hearing it and kept it on repeat for weeks (This one being a close second as a favorite from their most recent album). This has also become one of Miss N's favorites, replacing her previous fall asleep song, "Lakehouse" by Of Monsters and Men. It's cheesy and stupid, but I assume this here song is what that whole contentment thing feels like. Maybe someday I'll be able to confirm that.

No Vacancy

Well, if it's March then it's about that time for BP to reach out to me and once again kick the tires on reconciliation. Why March, you ask? Because next week is her birthday, something she places extreme importance on while also dreading it and what it means. I never found out why she's so big on birthdays. In fact, the one thing her birthday reminds me of is the last one she celebrated during our time together, during which we were in conflict. She claimed I'd "ruined" her birthday by not dropping everything, apologizing and catering to her every whim on that day, only to have her BS thrown back in her face when photos of her having a grand old time at karaoke popped up in my Twitter timeline. Every year, BP would remind me every single day in March that her birthday was coming up and she would be excited about the well wishes and gifts that came in, while simultaneously mourning the fact that she was another year older and not where she wanted to be in life. This year, I imagine she's mourning the fact that she'll be 37, single and childless and not having a great go of it at work. So she reached out to me with, "I'm just trying to see if there's still any hope for us or if you've moved on". Really? Like...really?? It's not like we broke up a week ago or some ish, this has been over for well over a year now. There wasn't hope when we were still in it, why would there be hope now and why wouldn't I have moved on? Just because her life has stalled doesn't mean that mine has. I didn't bother to respond and she hasn't contacted me again so hopefully that's the end of it.
Thinking about all this reminded me of all the times an unemployed BP witched and moaned about not being able to travel anymore. She didn't have a job that demanded it and she had no money, so she never went anywhere except on the occasional trips to surrounding states for one reason or another. Every time she got a job offer that included a ton of travel she was thrilled about the prospect of it, only to be brought back down to earth when I said, "But what about us?". You could see the wind go out of her sails as she tried to explain to me how she'd make time and it wouldn't be like with her ex and so on. I'd made it clear even before she got work that I was not going to play second fiddle to her career, but it's like she expected that to change if she actually got a career again. Sure enough, once she did she was always MIA and unreachable and giving me BS excuses about why. Now, she travels extensively and is rarely ever home, just like she wanted. But, at what cost? Few people can put up with that kind of stuff, and even fewer people will do it longterm. I'd rather have friends and time for them and a relationship than copious amounts of cash, which she's not even close to making anyway in her current position. But to each their own.
Getting BP's message reminded me of so many things, none of them good. I used to be so fucking weak when she reached out to me. I'd tell myself I wouldn't respond but then I'd cave at some point and the whole cycle would begin again. Some months ago, she pulled this same stunt and asked me if I'd be interested in trying again. I wasn't but I was curious as to where she thought we were at the time and how she thought she could sustain a relationship with her travel schedule. The answer? "I'd make it work." Oh...well, then. Because she had been so good at making shit work when we actually were together. I told her I wasn't interested and that I want another kid and an actual partner, not someone who only wants those things when they can fit it into their work schedule. She said she wanted a baby, not news to me, and I asked how that would work because kids are not part-time experiments that you pick up and put down at will (at least, none of my children would be). She never answered and that was that. You know how sometimes you think, "Wow, this person is going to be a great parent someday"? Yeah, I never got that impression with BP. In fact, I only ever remember thinking that she only wanted a kid because she was a woman in her 30's, not because she actually wanted to be a parent. And her lifestyle was in no way the type you'd want around a child, even before work overtook her life. On this most recent occasion where she reached out, I had absolutely no desire to respond or even play the game. I don't have room in my life for that negativity, or for anything that doesn't grow me as a person. BP stunted my growth long enough. She doesn't get to do that for even a single second more of my life.

For The Young Lovers Taking The Hill, One Plants A Flag While The Other Is Killed

This Is a post that should've been written ages ago, but I never had the balls to do so. Few things in my past trip me up like the subject of my first love. Next month will be 13 years since she left (I still can't bring myself to use the 'D' word in reference to her), and it feels...weird. almost like it was longer and more recent than that, if that makes sense. My progress in these past 13 years has been very touch and go. For the longest time, I felt like I had to punish myself for not being there for her when she needed me the most, and for a good, long while, I did. A friend of mine runs a number of support groups and asked me to speak to hid bereavement group about how to get through a loss. I don't care for public speaking so my initial thought was to turn it down. But it's a smaller group and I'm thinking maybe it would do me some good to help out. For that reason, I decided it was time to delve into the gory details and write this long overdue post.
I was extremely blessed to have crossed paths with Ms. Ramirez, almost twenty years ago. We were kids, blissfully unaware of what we were getting into. I was complete infatuated with her from the start too. She was just magic to me and we understood each other in this weird and wondrous way. She loved art of all kinds and planned to make it her career someday. She loved to read and pick my brain on the most random things. I've always been inherently curious about the world around me, but she challenged me to question things. She was my best friend. But everyone has flaws and I wasn't blind to hers. She had a rough family life and some of that had an effect on her that she had not yet learned how to deal with. We never had a minor, silly little argument, all of our fights were major and loud and ugly. But we always recovered. The teenage years are rough though and that eventually caught up to us. After four years of being mostly together, we had a blowout that threatened not just the relationship, but the friendship that we valued so much. We'd broken up before but it was always temporary and our friendship always remained intact. Sometimes we made better friends than lovers, but the chemistry was just ridiculous and always led us back to each other. After graduation (and the nasty fight), we mutually agreed to take a break. The decision was helped by the fact that we were going to different colleges, but that didn't make it any easier. This was someone I'd loved for four years and still did love. We'd planned out our entire lives together, down to the colors on the walls of the house we'd live in someday. The break was a hard pill to swallow for me and I coped by signing up to head overseas with friends for the summer, anything to get away from being by myself. She dealt with it differently, jumping into a relationship with the first dude she met after the split, who turned out to be a total dick. Still, they lasted for awhile and that stirred up so many emotions in me, but convinced me I needed to move on. 

I was still nursing a broken heart when I met R, one of my better exes, during my time abroad. She was everything my first love wasn't. She was a stunner, three years my senior and out of school, had her life together, knew what she wanted for her future - and she was in a longterm relationship with someone else. They'd been together for five years and it was assumed by all that they'd get married someday, and probably soon. I met the guy on two occasions and thought he was great, which irked me because I really liked her. Within a few weeks, she'd broken it off with him and we started dating, which I felt a slight twinge of guilt about at the time but I ignored it (years later, it would really trouble me that we'd come together in such a way). We fell into something great pretty quickly and continued it long after I came back to the States. My friendship with Ms. Ramirez was also doing well, though it was obviously somewhat strained since we both saw each other with new people. Things went along this way for awhile and I got serious with R, while the first love continued on with her jerk of a boyfriend. She'd tell me of her troubles with him and I'd get annoyed because she deserved so much better and because I still cared about her immensely. Then, everything took a major turn when she and I began working on a project together that required a lot of late nights and tedious hours. R was fantastic about this, never once doubting that I would be faithful or even questioning what was happening during our long sessions, but then I never really gave her reason to. After a few weeks of working together, those old feelings began to creep in and both Ms. Ramirez and I began to see each other in a romantic light once again. But we were both taken, so we put it on the back burner and tried to ignore it. Spoiler alert: It didn't work. The more time we spent, the more the feelings took hold, until we came very close to kissing late one evening. We stopped ourselves but it was obvious we couldn't ignore it anymore and needed to make some tough decisions. I told her I wouldn't fight or be a part of drama anymore, so if things were going to be the way they were, I was going to stay with R. Did I love her? In a way, yes, not like I did Ms. Ramirez, but at least it was something stable with potential. She said it wouldn't be like before, that she'd learned how to cope and deal with things without always escalating them and if I gave her another chance, she'd never let me go again. I don't know why I believed her, maybe I saw the change in her, but I agreed we should get back together. I told R I wasn't happy and an argument ensued. I'd hoped to get out of it with minimal damage, ignoring the irony in the fact that she'd broken someone's heart on a whim for me and now I was doing the same to her (sidenote: This circle was completed years later when a woman I was dating left me to go back to her ex). But she would have none of it and I finally had to tell her the truth, as well as be brutally honest about how I could probably settle down with her and have kids and all that, but my heart would never truly be in it. I could see myself having a comfortable, vanilla life with her, but not the kind of life I wanted. We ended up splitting somewhat amicably and Ms. Ramirez and I jumped back into our relationship full force. But it was different this time, more respectful, more loving, more mature. We were now in our twenties and closer than ever to all the future things we'd talked about. I adored her. Adored isn't even a strong enough word, really. We just fit and it was working and it was beautiful and even then I felt so fortunate to be a part of it.

Of course, nothing gold can stay and Ms. Ramirez and my relationship was not exempt from this rule. Unbeknownst to us, the world was about to come crashing down. We spent another year together and it was without question our best year out of the seven that we had. I was so happy and I couldn't help but say it all the damn time, which she said annoyed her but secretly loved to hear. The plan was for us to move in together full-time after we graduated college, but we never made it that far. Our birthdays fell within days of each other and she always made such a big deal over that. In that last year, she'd had a long planned trip with friends that would have us apart on our actual birthdays, so we went to lunch before she left. The next day I dropped her off at the airport and she told me she loved me and would call when she landed. That was the last time I ever saw her. We talked over the next five or so days and she left a voicemail on my birthday that I still have to this day. I will never be able to bring myself to erase it and I have it emblazoned on my brain for all eternity. I know her tone, I know every word, I've analyzed the thing over and over again. Because that was the last time I ever heard her voice. Those were the last words she spoke to me. Because of time differences and country differences, we couldn't quite speak as much as we would've liked and didn't get a chance to over the next few days. It was three days after my birthday when she and her friends were on their way home from a party and somebody ran a red light and smashed into the car. Supposedly, it was instant. She was the only fatality.

As has been discussed, I shut down completely and the month after both accidents is a blur because of my own near-death and the parts of my memories that it robbed me of. Also extensively discussed here are the dark ages and the alcohol and drug use and the PTSD and the brain damage and etc, etc, etc. I'm a fucking mess at almost 34, but it's nothing compared to what a mess I was at, say, 24, so that's a little victory in and of itself. I spent years having nightmares about her, wishing and believing I could've done something to save her. I spent years applying band-aids to my emotional wounds, mostly in the form of one woman or another who would make me feel normal for awhile but always, inevitably and unavoidably, leave. I wasn't trying to replace her, I was trying to replicate the feelings she'd given me. I was convinced I wouldn't live to see 30 and I didn't really mind that because at least then I wouldn't be thinking about her and feeling guilty all the time. The dreams though...those were probably one of the worst parts. One recurring dream has always been about her calling for me and it's like an anguished cry, and I can't get to her. It's like I'm being blocked. It crushes me every time I have it. Another one was about my own demise, beginning with me sleeping in bed and then suddenly hovering over my own body and looking down on myself. In that moment, I know I'm dead and I can feel that loneliness and emptiness, this overwhelming sadness and, "Oh fuck" moment that must come with realizing it is game over. I feel cold too. And every time I wake up, the only thing on my mind is Ms. Ramirez and how she went through that terrible moment of realization. And that guts me.

So here we are nearly 13 years on, me having lived longer without her than I did with her, which still boggles the mind. I'm, for the most part, as healed as I'm ever going to be from the experience. I still love her, though I am not in love with her. It's funny how that works actually...falling out of love with her was just awful. I don't even know when it happened, perhaps I was on something at the time, but I know now that I cannot replace her or the feelings she gave me. Those are ours, and only ours, for the rest of this life I remain in. Still, she has a place in my heart that will always belong to only her. I think about her everyday. I miss her everyday. I miss our secrets and our talks and our plans and hopes and dreams. Everything was just ripped away in that instant, and it took me years to rebuild something that was only mine. And maybe that's why I can't keep shit together now, because I'm afraid to build with someone else. That person could be taken away just as quickly, just as violently. And knowing the strength it took to rebuild once, I can confidently say I could never do that again. I barely - barely - survived one loss of that nature and it's a miracle that my sanity and optimism are still intact. Some days...even thirteen years later, are just too much to take. Some days I just want to stay under the covers and hunker down and forget about life because it all hits me at once and I remember her and us and the end and the time after. I wish she was here to experience so many things, even small day-to-day things. And maybe all of this is what I should say to this bereavement group. I wish someone had told me that it never gets easier and that you will always have bad days, though there will come a time when not everyday is one of the bad days. I wish I'd been told that you shouldn't feel guilty for being alive and for feeling something for other people, even for falling in love with other people. You're not unworthy of happiness just because the person you always wanted to be happy with is gone. Remember the good things, not the unhappy ending. Heal and move on but never forget that person. It's odd when you're the boyfriend/girlfriend of someone who passes because you're not considered "widowed" since there was no marriage or official lifelong commitment. But it certainly feels that way sometimes. Just because we didn't get to the marriage part doesn't mean I was any less committed to spending my life with her. I just wish we'd been granted the privilege of a long, happy life together before death did us part.

Ay Dios Mio

Crazy Aunt just got into "Gotham" and...well...

Crazy Aunt: I like this show, mijo. But when does the seal come on?
Me: ...The seal?
Crazy Aunt: Yeah, I've been kissed by a rose on the mange.
Me: LMAO...Um...where to begin...
Crazy Aunt: Begin what? What's funny?
Me: First off, it's just Seal, not "the Seal", as if he's a villain on the show.
Crazy Aunt: The black guy?
Me: Yes. The black guy. His name is just Seal.
Crazy Aunt: I have his album, it's the Seal.
Me: No...just no.
Crazy Aunt: The one where he's naked says the Seal. Maybe it's referring to his baby Seal?
Me: LMAO. Jesus...moving on. Second, that song he did was for that one Batman movie, not for everything Batman related. And third, it's "kissed by a rose on the GRAVE", not the mange.
Crazy Aunt: lol I thought that was a weird place to be kissed. Let me tell you though, mijo....
Me: Please don't. Whatever it is, don't tell me!
Crazy Aunt: I would kiss the Seal all over.
Me: ...Sometimes I wonder how damaged I would grow up to be if I were exposed to this version of you at a younger age.
Crazy Aunt: lol You'd be me by the time you grew up.
Me: lol And how!