Real Talk

Last night was fantastic. It was just what I needed after a week that saw me unable to get any sleep for three consecutive nights, followed by one hell of a hangover after taking a wee bit too much of a sleeping aid (don't worry, ya'll, it was OTC and I never wanna take it again), followed by a few nights of decent sleep, followed by an endless argument with someone that just replays itself every time we speak. I spent most of yesterday annoyed and wishing it were already the weekend because as of Saturday, I am on vacay. I figured I'd just get by the next couple days and then I was home free. But G had other ideas. I posed a question to her early Wednesday morning about what exactly holding a grudge feels like, because I've never held one myself. I wasn't sure that she ever had either, but she was one of a handful of people I asked. She countered with wanting to know why I was asking and I could feel her getting ready to grab her torch and pitchfork. I told her I wasn't exactly holding a grudge against anybody, but I was wondering if I should call it a day on a couple of things in my life. A few hours later, and just when I needed it, she replied, "Whatever has you thinking this way is probably not as important as your brain is making it out to be. I hate to see your beautiful, vulnerable, sensitive soul fall victim to something like that. You're better than that, Giuseppe.". Two things about that caught my attention; first, she never uses my human name unless she's trying to prove a point, and second, she may be onto something. I replay things far too often in my head sometimes, I get overly worked up about them and they either end up working themselves out or not being as severe as I initially believed them to be.
G and I dipped even further into my psyche over dinner and she made a lot of good points about various things. I went off on some ridiculousness about how maybe I'm just no longer conditioned to be in a decent relationship, but she shut that noise down immediately. Admittedly, we don't know each other the way we used to, but certain traits never change and based off of those traits, she surmised that I can be in a functional, great relationship - but I need to apply myself. She reminded me that I always treated her as if I was trying to woo her, from night one and well past what was our end. She never got the apathetic, "I can take this or leave this" version of me that had taken the wheel during the Dark Ages. Despite the many stops and starts, being in a relationship with G was easy. Or at least it felt that way. No relationship is "easy", there are always challenges, but because of our mutual dislike of drama and the fact that we adored one another, it seemed to be easy. I don't expect that of every future relationship, but I can't imagine I would hitch my wagon to anyone who didn't make me want to woo them all the time. I know I can be a great boyfriend, I guess I just haven't had the motivation to be of late. I'd be lying if I said I went into those last couple of blind dates with a completely opened mind and heart. I stated recently that I've become too comfortable being on my own, but last night made me realize that has to change. Yes, I can fill my time and I don't need to be in something, and I won't be in anything that doesn't feel all the way right. But I gotta open up. Thank you, G for making me see the light and reminding me that what I am will be enough for the right person.

Lead Me Not Into Temptation...Well, Alright, If You Insist

Tis a rare occasion when the women in my life lead me right to the doorstep of making questionable decisions. And I bask in it when it does happen. Y was the one who wanted to reach out to Q and now I'm the bad guy when Q reaches out to me. Life, yo.

On Friday night:

Me: That's her? Damn
Y: Don't sleep with her.
Me: I don't remember her being-
Y: Don't sleep with her.
Me: But I'm just saying-

*grabs my face and stares directly into my eyes*

Y: Do. Not. Sleep with her.

==========

And then the next day:

Me: She did text me wanting to hang before we leave but I'm exhausted.
Y: Don't text back
Me: Why not?
Y: Because when you left the table, she started talking about how you'd grown up to be a looker. Then she asked if we'd hooked up, which was so gross.
Me: Hmm...
Y: ...You're gonna sleep with her, aren't you?
Me: How dare you! I would never! Do you think she'd be interested?
Y: *sigh*
Me: This is your fault, you know.
Y: How dare you! I know it is! Shut up!

These Memories Are Playing Like A Film Without Sound

I had a weird ass dream. I was sitting outside a house I spent a lot of time at as a kid when a middle school friend I hadn't seen or spoken to in at least twenty years approached me. It was a beautiful day and people were outside nearly every house enjoying the weather. This person was upset because she thought I had intentionally cut off contact with her. We got to talking and then we were in a hotel of some sort at a party (but a far more uppity one than I'd ever attend). The were large floor to ceiling windows at this place and when we looked out, we could see spaceships descending on top of buildings in anticipation of blowing them up. Everybody ran and this random, dressed to the nines lady hurried a small group of us into a "shelter" down some stairs. The friend and I were standing just at the top of the stairs trying to pick out people we knew to go into the shelter. I saw a couple of family members and a few of my closest friends, but was concerned about someone I didn't see. So we all go into the shelter and wait, hearing the chaos raining down above. Most people were laying on the floor, on their sides with their hands up covering their heads, but I was (of course) sitting there casually with my knees bent and my hands behind me like I was on a damn beach, wondering why this shelter wasn't even kinda full. I also wondered why the woman who had lead us into it seemed more distressed than anyone else. Suddenly, water began streaming into the room from the direction where we'd come in. We realized there was no door on the shelter and everyone began to panic and run away. My companion and I ran through several darkened hallways and ended up running smack into a hotel attendant we'd seen at the party. As we stood there trying to piece together how our "shelter" had been on the same main floor of the hotel where the party had been, we overheard the dressed to the nines lady saying she'd never intended to save lives - she just wanted us to be "not as scared" about dying. Somehow, the dream redirected to the friend and I being in a grocery store, seemingly oblivious to what we'd just gone through. She picked up a bunch of groceries and we headed for the checkout. During this stroll, she said she was interested in me as a potential romantic partner, and I said there was something we should talk about if that was the case. We got back to her room, that was small and dark and looked like a dorm room, and fell onto the bed and kissed. Again, I reiterated there was something she needed to know (regarding my health, I believe), but we kissed again. Then I woke up.

My first thought upon waking up was that I really just should've never binge watched, "The X-Files". My second thought was, "Huh...I wonder what she's up to these days" about the friend. My third thought was that I needed to share the details of this weird ass dream with somebody, so I rattled it all off to Y. Her first thought was that she needs to monitor what I watch before bed. Her second thought was to find this person on Facebook and answer my question. Y remains Facebook friendly with a fair amount of people from our high school days, whereas I choose to maintain my distance from those days. I have a general idea of what a lot of them are up to, but I don't feel the need to friend them on Facebook and keep them updated on my own life. High school was meh for me and I consciously chose who I wanted to remain tight with and who I do without. Ironically, most of the friend requests I've gotten from old high school acquaintances have come from folks who weren't very nice to me back then. But Q is not one of those people. We met during my Catholic school era and while we got along well and had a fair amount in common, we never hung out when we weren't in school. I would go to other friend's houses, but Q and I had more of a school yard kinda friendship and I can't remember why that was. We never spoke during the summer months, but picked up right where we left off every time school was back in session.

Once high school rolled around I was surprised to see that many of my Catholic school peers, who had been confined to those Catholic halls since Kindergarten, also made the jump to the same public high school, which funneled in kids from 4 different middle schools. The upside of this was that Y and I could finally attend the same school after years of being separated by the cruelty of living in different districts. The downside was that many of us seemed to lose friends we'd known forever due to the high school hierarchy. I vaguely remember that sometime during our first week of high school sitting in the lunchroom with a few of my new friends when Q and her new group came around. We said hi to one another, but we didn't speak much after that. In fact, I don't think we ever had a single class together. In my senior year, I managed the girl's volleyball team (I know you're thinking I did this so I could date the ladies, but the real reason behind it was that I needed extracurriculars and Y was the captain of the team and got me the gig), and Q was one of the players. During a practice, she had to step aside to put on a knee brace and she sat down next to me and another player (who I didn't like, but Q was friendly with). The other chick said something about me and Q chimed in and corrected them and I remember thinking it was a weird fact for her to remember years after we'd last had an actual conversation. The whole dynamic was weird. We seemed to still like each other, but just weren't friends. Maybe that's because we didn't have any classes together, maybe it's because Q found her clique and that's who she stuck with (Y would like me to point out that she thinks Q avoided me because I was a bad influence and her mom worked at the school and sized up all her friends, but that's absurd. I didn't become a bad influence until college). The last time I saw Q was at graduation where we waved at one another. She hadn't crossed my mind since, until the apocalyptic grocery dream. 

As it turned out, Q had also returned to our old stomping grounds to spend Easter with her family. Y, Q and I all went to dinner on Friday night and it was actually really nifty. I'd completely lost some of the stuff Q and I used to do in middle school where we were idiots. I was reminded that we initially bonded over being grammar nerds and goofballs. All three of us marveled at how we'll be 35 by year's end. None of us have ever attended a high school reunion. Y wanted to go, but life intervened, while Q and I both decided we wanted to stay away from our former classmates. I was surprised to find out she hasn't spoken to anyone she was BFF's with since a few months after graduation. She went to college, majored in English to make her education-centric parents happy and then took off for L.A. to work in the movies. We still have a lot in common, actually. And it was nice to catch up. I was not a fan of my high school years, but this was a nice little reminder that it wasn't all bad.

Something In You Brought Out Something In Me, That I Haven't Been Since

Throughout my life I've gone back and forth about the concept of, "The One". People talk about how you should feel when you find that person, and I felt exactly that with my first love. However, I was also a teenager all full of hormones and naivety and I didn't grasp just how much care fated romances required. Then I was forced to reassess whether I believed we each get only one shot at the whole happily ever after thing. If I truly believed that, and I did for awhile, then I was fucked because my ever after was gone. It was that thinking that played a part in how I spiraled over the next few years. I went from relationship to relationship, half-assing my way through each one and downplaying how unhappy I was. And then I met G and re-examined so many things. From night one I knew we had something. She conjured up so many emotions I hadn't felt in eons; nerves, excitement, euphoria. But simultaneously I also felt this calm that I'd never experienced before. It was wild. Falling for her was effortless but, though I was a decade older than when I'd first fallen for someone, we both still had trouble grasping just how difficult being in a long haul relationship was. G is one of those people who is in love with love, but often doesn't know what to do with it when she gets it. She's notoriously indecisive and had a tendency of letting others get in her ear about what her next move should be, both in her relationships and in her life in general. Meanwhile, I was happy as a clam to be with her but had not yet found myself or made peace with my past and that bled into our relationship. She was happy but too in her own head to just let go and see where we went, and I was happy but too wrapped up in believing I wasn't worthy of what we had. It was right person, wrong time for both of us. But the way she made me feel alive, after years of wishing I were gone...that was amazing. So much so that I took any and every opportunity to bask in that feeling and willingly ran back to her when she called, even when I knew it was temporary. She often pulled back from our hook-up situations because she said she couldn't take the way I looked at hher when we weren't a couple. She could tell I was still just as in love as I'd always been and it made her feel bad, since she saw our end as her fault (even though it wasn't). Our relationship changed something in both of us. It illuminated our paths, in a way. G needed to learn how to just be and not overthink everything, and I needed to learn how to love myself (as cheesy as that sounds).
G turned 34 late last year, shortly before we came back into each other's lives on a semi-regular basis. Year 33 for her had been incredibly transformative as she was finally forced to deal with every last demon in the months leading up to her son's birth. G is one of those people who will do for everyone else before focusing on herself and what she needs but, ironically, she was able to get that in check whilst in the process of becoming a mom. She had a habit of putting away her feelings and her disappointments and not revisiting them, if she could help it. She did this with the end of our relationship and threw herself into going out on the town all the time as a means of coping. Pregnancy hormones being what they are, she started to go over everything in her past with the intention of figuring how she'd gotten from Point A to Point B, and how to avoid making the same mistakes over again. Through that process, she learned that not everything people say is said with good intentions and sometimes you have to make your own decisions and fuck what everyone else thinks about them. They say not everyone has the same heart you do, and that's especially true with G. She has the biggest heart of anyone I know, she was born to be a mother, but she didn't know how to pick her battles, so to speak. We've both marveled at how the other has ended up right where they need to be, and the version of themselves they were meant to be. Much has changed since our time together. But some things remain the same.
You need people in your life who motivate you to be better and who are willing to lift you to that higher space when you can't do it yourself. I always felt better with G. She knew I was a mess in progress when we began but she was undeterred and her belief in me motivated me to want to be better everyday; a better friend, a better partner, a better human in general. And while that sort of started me on this whole self-love journey, I didn't realize I left a part of that behind when we split up. That relationship was probably the one time I was truly at my best in that I applied myself every single day. I didn't have to hide when I was unhappy or when I felt like we just didn't have "it" that day. She always pulled me back into the fold and I did the same for her on the off days. I haven't had that motivation to be better since we broke up. Yes, I have motivation in a different sense with Miss N, but that's more not wanting to screw up my kid too badly so I gotta try and be a decent human being. With G, it was more of actively wanting to better each day, wanting to match the level that I felt she was on. And isn't that what relationships are supposed to be? Two people who are not perfect but are willing to work everyday to help each other become better versions of themselves? If you're not growing a little each day, then what's the point of living, you know?
I've been single for awhile now and I've felt some kinda way about it that I couldn't quite figure out. I didn't mind it and I'm not clamoring to be in a relationship with the next chick who comes into my life, but I felt...something. And I think this is what it is. I want to be in something mutually supportive where both of us grow on a daily basis, both as individuals and as a couple. It's easy to say the bad times shoud make ya'll grow, but it isn't just about that. Great relationships put you on a different level and change your view on life. Knowing that somebody has you back no matter what is almost like cover and empowers you to go out and take risks and be the best version of yourself. They make you want to do that, not have to do it. The right person won't want to change you and won't see you as needing to be fixed in any way. The right person makes a world of difference when you've spent your life with the wrong people. As long as you're open to it, anyway. I probably was a little closed off to the right people post-G because, in my eyes, no one could ever compare. And now that we're friends again, I get pangs of that every do often. I think I need to actively date more and figure out what I want and need in a relationship. I've become too comfortable with being by myself. I can't just sit on the sidelines and wait if I really do want to be in something.

Whose Blind Date Is It Anyway?

And so it began. I had a blind date last night, courtesy of S. Not the chick she wants me to go out with and calls "marriage material", but one from my old stomping grounds in my hometown. It was a'ight.

S: How was the date??
Me: Meh.
S: Oh my god. You're impossible.
Me: lol All I said was, "Meh"!
S: "Meh" = "That was nice, who else ya got".
Me: You promised me better. This chick was blonde. BLONDE!
S: Well, not naturally. But I guess you didn't sleep together since you don't know that.
Me: lol I never said that. But yeah, who else ya got?
S: lol A foreign brunette who is totally, not at all marriage material.
Me: *sense a trap but walks in anyway*
S: Yay! I'll set it up.

==========

G: Well, you're alive and presumably have both kidneys so I lost money on how your date went.
Me: LOL. Sorry to disappoint.
G: How was it?
Me: It was nice, but nothing is gonna come of it. S is setting me up with the marriage material chick.
G: *GASP* This...this is Giuseppe Carrasco's number, is it not?
Me: I know...I don't know what I'm thinking. But at least it'll be out the way and then I get to peruse S's more slutty side of the Rolodex.
G: LOL. Ah. Your true motive shine through.
Me: lol You know it!

Quitters Never Win

By now you've probably heard of the ridiculous story involving now former Major League Baseball player Adam LaRoche. For those not in the know, LaRoche retired and opted to forgo the remaining 13 million dollars on his contract after the Chicago White Sox asked him not to bring his 14-year-old son to work with him every single day. LaRoche vaguely announced his retirement via Twitter, attempting to paint it as him being a family man who chose his son over his passion. But in recent days, other things have come to light about the situation that paint it in quite a different light.
This whole thing began early in the week when the White Sox asked LaRoche to scale back how much time his son, Drake, spends in the clubhouse. According to LaRoche, his son has been in the clubhouse with him 100% of the time for years now, and with at least two other teams, and he and the White Sox had an agreement saying Drake's presence was always welcome. Obviously it wasn't in LaRoche's contract or he would've taken up matters with the MLB. It sounds like it was a verbal agreement or, more likely, a, "Sure, he can be here sometimes" that LaRoche took to mean the kid could be there all the time. If that's the case, whoever promised him such a thing has every right to change their mind. The odd thing is the team didn't ban the kid altogether, they only asked that he be in the clubhouse maybe 50% of the time, rather than 100%. But LaRoche retired anyway. Most people I've discussed this with, and most comments I've seen on articles about the topic, are rightfully critical of LaRoche's choice, as well as his parenting methods. He basically up and quit because his employer told him something he didn't wanna hear. What a luxury to have, right? Yes, one is blessed to be able to do what they love as a job, but you have to remember that it is still that - a job. The majority of us are not allowed to bring our children with us to the office, no matter what the office looks like. LaRoche was afforded a luxury by his teams, given an inch that he stretched into a mile by bringing the kid to work everyday. I highly doubt he would have retired if this had happened years ago with one of his previous teams. I think he believed the Sox would come crawling back to him once he left, they are a somewhat desperate team who hasn't won in a long time, but it didn't quite work out that way. He and his teammates are attempting to paint him as some noble family man, but the majority opinion seems to be that he's a spoiled idiot who pitched a fit when he could no longer get his way.
This is what's concerning to me - Drake only gets an education three-ish months a year. He attends traditional school in the winter months but spends the rest of the year with dear old dad in the clubhouse, where his father claims he will learn more valuable lessons than he ever could in school. He gets absolutely no schooling for most of the year, only having to pass a few standardized tests to appease the powers that be. How is that legal for the school he attends? He's obviously not finishing the curriculum, so how can they move him up each grade when he's only doing a quarter of the work? That's not fair to him, and not to the other kids who have to do all the work to complete each grade. Sports locker rooms are like eternal frat parties, I would not want my son in one of those for any length of time at such a young age. He's not learning much that will benefit him in adulthood, unless he becomes an MLB player himself someday. Not to mention, dad just taught him that it's perfectly acceptable to be a quitter when you come across a rule you don't like. Also concerning is that the LaRoche family have a younger daughter who does attend school full time. What is this set-up teaching her? That she gets fewer perks because she's not a boy? The upside being the daughter will be educated, but what will this do for other parts of her life? Obviously I'm not saying she should be in the locker room with a bunch of men, but I'm a big believer that you treat your kids equally, regardless of their gender. Women have difficult enough in life down the road, they don't need to made to feel less than by their own fathers. We know from eons of experience what that does to our daughters. I'm also disturbed by how LaRoche said he "told" his wife he'd be taking the son on extended clubhouse excursions, as if the boy's mother had no say in the matter. But then, maybe she didn't.
Hopefully this story dies down soon because I can't take some of the people applauding this idiot for his decision. Most people aren't in the position to turn down $13, nevermind 13 million. and he did just that for a ridiculous reason. As with so many athletes today, LaRoche isn't role model material, not even to his own kids apparently. I hope that 13 million doesn't come back to bite him, or his children, in the ass. I feel sorry for Drake, the kid deserves better than what he's getting from his father.

Mama Say, Mama Saw

Y: So TLC has a new show coming next month about longtime best friends who decide to get hitched. I guess because they're old and nobody else wants them now.
Me: ...I hope you're not taking this conversation in the direction it sounds...
Y: LOL. You should be so lucky! *brushes away hair and pushes up cleavage* No, seriously though, are you interested?
Me: LOL. I was gonna say no, but the, "because you're old and nobody wants you now" portion of the proposal was tres romantic.
Y: LOL. I said THEY were old and nobody wanted them!! You're still okay looking. Why do you think I want to wife you? #EyeCandy
Me: lol Remember that other show on TLC you saw where the Mexican lad was marrying the Indian chick and you said it would be what our wedding was like if I wasn't, to quote you, "gross"?
Y: Omg, yes!
Me: Yeah, well I have no interest in that.
Y: What about having a child?
Me: ...Why are we talking about this? We both have childs.
Y: LOL "Childs". I don't want one now, I still have a few years left to find somebody better to procreate with. But I'ma need you to step up if that doesn't happen. You agreed to such things when we became friends.
Me: LOL. I was 3 months old when we became friends! Clearly I didn't read the fine print.
Y: lol I was even younger. Get over it and get down to the doctor's office, homeo.
Me: But...but...our child would be too violent for this world, which is saying something.
Y: It would be able to take care of itself. And have kickass musical taste. Come oooooooonnnnnnn!
Me: I will agree to this hypothetical scenario on one condition - I get to name it. All the names. By myself.
Y: You know damn well you are AWFUL at naming things by yourself. And I'll be damned if I'm giving birth to Hakuna Matata [last name].
Me: LOL. I hadn't even thought of that but now that you mention it...Hakuna Matata is such a wonderful phrase...
Y: LOL. And how appropriate that my wanting to procreate with you was a passing craze...
Me: LOL. Well played.