I am sure that I am not alone when I say that I feel most content surrounded by the people I love. But I am probably one of few that doesn’t have that many people surrounding them anymore.

It seems like no matter how hard I try, the people I love the most diminish with time and happenings and exchanges of words. It makes me sad. It breaks my heart. It causes me to look in the mirror and ask myself what I as a friend could have possibly done to push them so far away.

But then, maybe it isn’t me.

I am difficult to love, and I like it that way. Why should my devotion come so easy to everyone? Is it fair to think that the people in my life should work hard to earn my love, trust and loyalty? I would work hard to reciprocate for theirs. In every relationship that I have ever encountered, I have worked hard to show them exactly how important they are to me.

I wonder why I find less and less people willing to do the same. As if, it is acceptable to give 50% in a friendship all of a sudden?

D tells me that so many people are terrified of me. Intimidated even. That they are afraid of what I might say to them. What do you mean? You are afraid of someone possibly telling you the truth? Is that what “friendship” has come to? Lying to one another? It makes me sad to know that people walk on eggshells… but at the same time, my guard remains up because really, I don’t give a fuck. I am gonna be me and say what I think, and ask for forgiveness later if it comes down to having to.

Fact is, I don’t like people. I don’t trust people. So excuse me if I don’t run and hug you and tell you all of my deepest, darkest secrets when we first meet.

Regardless, my life and my love are mine… and I choose who to share them with. If it isn’t you… then you haven’t proved to me that you are worth my love. If I shared it with you, and it was betrayed by you… then shame on me for allowing you in in the first place… It is too bad that you are gone, but with or without you…

I am going to love life, and live love.

Because that is how I roll.

Thoughts?

If you could have any car you wanted, which car would you choose? Would it be practical or flashy?
Imagine you woke up one morning to find you had switched bodies with me. What would you do?

Today, my WeHtW’s post has little to do with me and more to do with my own observations.

The reason why is because I have already flushed my non-true friends down the figurative toilet.

It is hard to let friends go. Especially when you have a history with them. It is hard to swallow the fact that someone who you once thought you would end up an old bitty with … may have a different path than you.

But it is life.

The thing that bothers me the most is when people … adults … behave like children in the friendships.

Judgment
2 faced behavior
Conditions
Unrealistic expectations
Lies
Non existent communication

I could go on forever.

The point is that I have found that rarely (with females specifically) do childhood friendships go the long haul. I know many will argue that my view is not accurate. “I have been friends with SonSo for 2367845 years” blah blah blah.

I get it.

There ARE friendships that have gone the long haul. The difference is that each person in that friendship have grown together in the friendship. Both parties have become adults. And in adulthood, they have grown to accept the other person for all of their imperfections and flaws. It is similar to a marriage. When any relationship goes the long haul, there are kinks and bumps and hiccups.

You don’t just smile through them. Sometimes you knock down drag out whoop each others asses to get through it. Period.

One thing that I will say about each of my TRUE friendships is that each and every one of them have just embraced me for me and I have done the same. It may have taken an argument or 2 to get there … but if we made it through the last 5 years and remained friends … you and I will be lifelong.

I am not a judger. I may fucking loathe whatever the decision is that my friend is making … but you know what? It is not my decision to make. I am gonna love and stand by. I am gonna listen, and you can bet your ass when the bitch finally gets the clue I am gonna tell her about herself on some “I told your ass so” shit when she figures it out for herself. That is what a true friend does.

I am a true friend to my friends. I always will be. But I am not perfect, and I do not expect my friends to be perfect either. Unless awesome = perfect. Because all of my friends are awesome.

I am flaky sometimes. I forget to call you back. I am over extended and sometimes unable to manage my time well. I am selfish sometimes. But there isn’t a time where I would not bend over backwards if my friend needed me to be there. There isn’t a time where I wouldn’t give them my last god damn dollar if I knew my friend needed it more than I did.

It really hurts me to see a friend lose a friend. Almost as much as if I were the one losing the friend myself.

I just wish that each were able to fully step out of their own shoes and into the others. Most of the time, each have valid points in the hurt that they hold in their hearts … but that hurt can be blinding. Blinding to the point that the communication between friends goes down the toilet.

That usually is where The End fits.

I am quite confident that I have closed the book on all of the friendships that were dead weight on my life. It is a good feeling to know that I am finally surrounded by people who get it and me.


What are your thoughts on friendship?
Have you kept any friends from childhood? Are they more friends or acquaintances?
If you could be a crayon, What color and Why?

I always give love to Ms. Lilu for inspiring my Pillow Talk blogs because she posts The Shiz My Boyfriend Says. And I love her so you should read her. Word?

(while watching SNL…)

Me: “Jlo is both the artist and the guest?”
D: “I dunno…”
Me: “What in the hell is she singing tonight?”
D: “I think she sings some mexi stuff.”
Me: “Mexi stuff? Really?”
D: “You know what I meant.”
Me: “So racist.”
D: “Yeah. That’s me. A closet racist.”
Me: “Like mexi fries? Mexi melt?”
D: “Shutup.”

(20 minutes later …)

Me: “Damn Jlo has ass.”
D: “Somethin’ has to make up for her lack of voice.”
Me: “Seriously. Enrique Iglasias needs to tell his wife about herself because dude. She sounds like a dying cat.”
D: (laughing)
Me: “What?”
D: “Jlo’s husband is not named Enrique.”
Me: “Huh?”
D: “You called Jlo’s husband Enrique Iglasias.”
Me: “Oh whatever. Enrique Iglasias … Mark Anthony … sounds the same to me.”
D: “The names sound absolutely nothing alike.”
Me: “You know what I meant!”
D: “You are the closet racist, not me.”
Me: “Wow.”

(in response to a discussion about a husband wanting an “exercise pole” in the house against his wifes will)

Me: “Any man that wants a stripper pole in the house and the wife doesn’t … that just screams infidelity.”
D: “He SAID it was an exercise pole.”
Me: “It is an infidelity pole.”
D: “I am gonna put a stripper pole in the man cave.”
Me: “You have a motherfucking death wish.”
D: “I have hella seating.”
Me: “I will kill you.”
D: “There are tools down there to install it.”
Me: “You are joking.”
D: “There are MIRRORS down there.”
Me: “There will be no pole ala stripper in my house.”
D: “That is why the man cave is in the garage now.”
Me: “Die.”
D: “I am just saying. OH! There is MUSIC out there too!!!!!”
Me: “I am going to poison you.”
D: “Babe, it is all for you.”
Me: “Yeah because I am gonna walk out to the “Man Cave” and use the fucking stripper pole.”
D: “Why cant we have one?”
Me: “We can have one when we have our own wing in our house.”
D: “Really?”
Me: “Yep. Because if we have a pole, we need a swing and one of those rocking chair dong ride thingies.”
D: “I really love you.”
Me: “Duh.”

If you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life, which song would you choose?
If you were asked to choose which time you would like to live in, which century would you choose?

As always — check out Ms. Lilu for making this recurring day of nastyness that we all kind-of look forward to possible. She rocks, in case you didn’t know.

This TMIT posting comes from Ms. Squishy over at squishisms.com. She is not only one of my besties, but a kick ass blogger. You should read her because she exudes awesomeness.

It’s been 361 days since it happened. I had plans for a girls night with the Teridactyl. This, of course, meant Irish had to find something to do. Luckily for him a friend of ours got laid off that day. Or maybe it was the day he found a new job? I don’t really remember, and it’s moot. The point is – I went out with my girl and our coworkers, and Irish went out with the boys.

It was our first night out without each other since we started dating, a little over eight months. My night started with happy hour – to celebrate 30 Days of NonSmoking with a CoWorker who had quit smoking the same day I did. (Tho, he didn’t really quit, just quit where I could see him – but I didn’t find that out til later.) My drinking began at 4 PM on the dot.

At 11 I was ready for karaoke. It. Was. Time. I could handle anything, including that smoke-filled dive bar full of temptations I’d sworn off – cigarettes being nowhere near the top. And I thought it was time to bring the groups together. Irish’s boys and my crew could all meet at Rags.

But when I called, Irish slurred that he was heading home. He was “shhhhhleeeeeeeeeepy.”

/shrug

But… the longer we drove, and it’s at least a half hour from South Austin, where we were, to North Austin, where my car was, the more tired I grew. My buzz was wearing off and I wanted out of my clothes and into a warm comfy bed…and preferably wakeup wellsexed to boot.

SO I skipped karaoke and came home. Before midnight on a Friday night.

CanISayHowAwesomeItIsToNotHaveToStayOutAllNightToGetLaid?

But when I got home, all the lights were off. This was before the dogs or the roommate, so the house was CREEPYQuiet. Irish was passed the hell out. Didn’t even twitch when I came in and turned on the bedside light. And he was on his stomach, which is odd for him. I undressed, kissed his shoulder, resigned myself to sexlessness, contemplated masturbation, rejected it, climbed into bed and went to sleep…

For all of a few hours… and then something woke me roud about 4 AM.

Quick shallow breathing.

Quiet grunts.

And right as I opened my mouth to alert Irish to the fact that there was someone in the apartment, something hit the back of my head. Something warm and something that DID NOT smell so good.

Yeah. My fiance vomited IN MY HAIR. IN HIS SLEEP.

On Valentine’s Day.

Our FIRST Valentine’s Day.

I rinsed my hair off quietly, made sure he was on his side so he didn’t die…and went to the couch.

And then I knew what love is…

Yep.

(To be fair: (And because he says I have to include it) He did make me steak and cheddar potatoes for dinner. AND AN ICE CREAM CAKE. While Hungover. <3)

Would you rather…

* Be handcuffed to a bed, naked, in the middle of a highway?
* Have pictures of you being handcuffed to a bed, naked, on the Internet?

I have had some emails wondering why there have been no Pillow Talk blogs as of late. Not to be a sarcastic cunt or anything but I guess I am wondering how Pillow Talk would be possible when the person (D) on the other pillow is not around to share a conversation with.

Just saying.

So, for your enjoyment, here are some recent conversation between the infamous D and myself.

(This convo took place after last weekend’s shenanigans where some random douchebag thought my name was Nicole … and all of my LOVELY friends played into it by screaming “NIKKI” as I attempted to drunkenly convince him that my name was NOT in fact Nicole or Nikki)

D: “Whatever Nikki.”
Me: “You must want to get stabbed.”
D: “I must admit, you could pull off Nikki if you really wanted to.”
Me: “Is that right?”
D: “Yeah. I mean, Nikki is a slutty name. And well … you are kinda slutty.”
Me: (Pondering)
D: “And, I mean Nikki is a bitchy name too. Like ‘I cant STAND that bitch Nikki.”
Me: “You just have it all figured out, don’t you?”
D: “Hey. I am not the one who thought your name was Nikki. I am just saying. If the slutty shoe fits… call her Nikki.”
Me: “I am going to murder you.”

Approximately 10 minutes later…

Me: “You have to wake me up at 7:30 tomorrow.”
D: “What am I, your personal alarm clock?”
Me: “You are my personal more than that and you know it.”
D: “Psh.”
Me: “Mmmmmhm. That is why you answered like that. Cause you know.”
Me: “7:30. Alright? And you better wake me up nicely.”
D: “I know how I am gonna wake you up. HehHehHeh.”
Me: “NO! I am NOT A MORNING PERSON GOD DAMNIT!”
D: “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
Me: “Really? Have we just met?”
D: “What I was GONNA say was I would just wake Charli up early and let HER deal with your non-morning person ass.”
Me: “That would be stupid on your part.”
D: “Why?”
Me: “Because she isn’t a morning person either and I will be getting ready for work, so you will have to deal with her bratty ass.”
D: “Fuuuuck.”
Me: “Yep. Better stick to just waking me up nicely.”
D: “Thisdick.”
Me: “You are a 6th grader.”
D: “Deeeeeeznuttts.”
Me: “I often find myself questioning why I even talk to you.”

Because he takes care of me so well when I am sick…

Me: “I feel like shit right now. My throat and ears feel like sandpaper on the inside.”
D: (smirking)
Me: “I wish I could shove my hands down my throat and scratch them. Blah!”
D: “I think I might have a cure for that itch.”
Me: “Idontwantit.”
D: “I am just trying to help you scratch the deepest parts of your throat baby.”
Me: “I swear to Christ I hate you.”
D: “Why such hatred? Here I am fixing the problem and you are so ungrateful.”
Me: “Whatever.”
D: “Fine. Don’t come crying to me when your throat still itches. That is, unless you have made the decision to allow me to *ahem* scratch that itch.”
Me: “Idontwantit!”
D: “Such ungratefulness these days.”

Would you rather fight Mike Tyson, or permanently talk like him?
If you had to assassinate one famous person still living, who would it be and how would you do it?

Does it exist?
Are we all pawns in fate’s chess game?

Any one of you who knows me already know what I think. I am a firm believer in karma and fate and all things happen for a reason. That if you are thrown under a bus (figuratively of course … this isn’t some Final Destination deal people) in life … you were thrown there because it is supposed to teach you something.

Which is why I tend to take the realist approach when it comes to life and relationships. When I say relationships, that means every single kind of relationship. Not just romantic ones. In my opinion, we are all in each others lives to serve a purpose. It may be a forever purpose or it may only be a 5 week long purpose. No matter the length of time, there is a lesson in the relationship that was formed.

For example, if D and I were to part ways at some point in the future … for whatever reason, as heartbreaking as it would be for me to let him go … I would remind myself all of the lessons that we taught each other in the time that we shared together. Strength, persistence, dedication, patience … true unconditional love … all of them.

Our time together, be it 10 years or forever was meant to be that way.

It is hard trying to help someone see this who has blinders on. Blinders make normally grown, mature folks do stupid shit. It is what it is, but if we all could just remove them and really look at the situation at hand … we would realize exactly what steps to take to make the right decisions. Not necessarily meaning that if we took them off that we would know the duration of time that relationship was going to be for … because really knowing that is like simply leaving all of the presents under the Christmas tree unwrapped every year.

I am more or less saying that if we all just wrapped our head around the fact that it may or may not end tomorrow … and embraced that relationships for exactly what they are in that moment … we might hurt less and love more. Because in all honesty, if I was unsure that I would wake up tomorrow and not have any of my most important relationships anymore … I would be more apt to embrace them that much harder.

It hurts to watch someone I love misunderstand things. What hurts even more is when I try and offer my wisdom and it goes in one ear and out the other. I should know better though, right? I am the first person to admit that in any given situation, if I am going to learn anything from it … I absolutely have to learn the hard way. It is like written in blood somewhere. I never listen.

So why in the hell would I expect anyone else to listen to me? *grin*

If you are over thinking, over analyzing, reading into every single little “sign” about a current relationship with another person …. no matter what kind of relationship it is … knock it off. Wouldn’t you feel like an asshole if you spent all of the time you could have been spending immersed with them … worried about making sure it didn’t end?

I know I would.

Just some Wicked food for thought. Happy Monday!

Any thoughts on the subject? Any personal experiences?
Do you believe in “Meant to Be?”

Oh … and …

Would you rather be mechanically induced to scream at the top of your lungs for an hour, OR
have your eyes glued shut for a day?

Click the link to check out my other Weekend Poetry posts!

She is doing 26 Days of Gratefulness. Each day represents a letter filled with things that she is eternally grateful for. Of course more than half of these days made me cry like a fucking baby because that is what the hell I do when there is anything mush or moosh involved in it. But when she does it … it hits me even harder. (I will get to her later.)

Since I am late to the game, mine will be broken in 2. Wanna hear it hear it goes.

*deepoverlyemotionalbreath*

A is for Awesomeness. I am grateful that I have discovered and have embraced my own Awesomeness. For one, because it is Awesome to own your Awesomeness … but more importantly, it is Awesome to show others that they are in fact Awesome. And to help another Awesome human being to embrace their own Awesomeness … is … well … Awesome in it’s own right.

B is for Breath. Being able to stop to catch my own. It is also for Babysitters. The one that I stumbled upon in my time of need has been a fucking life saver. Even in her own time of crisis, she stood by me and made sure that no matter what I was able to focus on what I needed to do for my family to survive without worrying about my kids’ well being. She has become not only my Babysitter, but one of my Best friends. B is also for Book. Because in 2009, I published mine. I am so proud of my accomplishment. I started it. I finished it. It is quality. It is mine. My creation. If nothing else ever comes of it other than my Lulu self publishing endeavor … I will still see myself as a success. Would I love to be on the Bestseller’s list? Duh. B is for Blogging. I have no clue what I would do if I didn’t have my Blog space.

C is for Courtni. Yep. I am grateful for me. This year has been a roller coaster, but I have been able to do a lot of good for myself and my family. I lost 30 pounds. I started a kick ass SUCCESSFUL blog site with the help of my Numbah 1. I took a risk by starting this job … but am already seeing the potential successes. Courtni is a stronger woman than she has ever been. She loves herself for the first time ever 100%. Flaws, strengths… all of it. So then really, C is also for Confidence.

D is for D. His absence right now sucks, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love him so much that it hurts. He is an amazing dad. He takes care of me, puts up with me, listens to my endless fucking ranting and loves me unconditionally. Flaws and all. When I cry he knows when and when not to leave me alone. When I just feel like being a bitch … he lets me. (Even if that means ignoring me completely) When I need to be held or loved or smacked around a little (I am kidding) or even told about myself, he just knows. D is my polar opposite. I yell, he just talks. I over analyze, he thinks things through. I freak out, he rationalizes. When we make love it is Dynamic. When we fuck … it is Dirty. He knows which one is the right one. As much as I am his rock, he is mine. Which would make sense as to why we have been together a Decade.

E is for Elasticity. I have gained this quality in the past 48 days. When a bitch gets knocked down, there is no other option other than to bounce back. It is for Energy (the positive kind.) I have had (for the most part) an abundance of it around me over the past 2 months. My new found family especially. E is also for Ears. Without them, I would have had no one to listen to me yell. And I have done my fair fucking share of yelling.

F is for Friendship. I have gone from no Friends to many Friends. True, ride or die fucking Friends. Friends who will give their last slice of bread to my Family if we were hungry. Or at least split it in half. Coming from a childhood where I moved every single year from 4th grade to 9th grade … I didn’t really have many Friends that I knew were real. The ones who I have managed to hold on to for dear life, I am grateful for each of you. Lisa, Jennifer, Stephanie, Rachael, Tweed, Kim1&2, Lirra … even though we don’t always talk or kick it, I am beyond grateful that I have a piece of my past with you. I don’t know if I have ever told any of you how important it is to me that we have managed to keep in touch over the many many years. Friendship is the most important thing to me besides my Family. To me, they go hand in hand. If you are my true Friend … you are my Family. Plain and simple. Food is a big F for me. I heart me some food. All kinds. F is also for Fate. I believe that everything happens for a reason.

G is for Goals. I have set lofty ones for 2010. I am going to achieve all of them. Come hell or high water.

H is for Home. It is for Health. It is for Happiness. H is for Honor. It is for Heart. I am grateful that I have been blessed with life lessons to know and understand what each and every one of these mean and own each of them. I will be working on the Health and the Happiness more this next year … but I am almost there. Closer than I have ever been. That feels awesome.

I is for Insecurities. Yes. I am grateful for my Insecurities because that means that I am human. I is also for Internet. If there was no Internet, I would never have met my soul sisters. I would never have been able to purge my soul for all of you. I is also for Ice cream. Because sometimes, every single problem can be solved with a big fat bowl of Ice cream.

J is for Job. Why? Because for the first time in years I have a Job that I absolutely love. Who has a Job that they have a fucking blast at 97% of the time? I am grateful for my Job and (almost) everyone that I work with there.

K is for Karma. I believe in it. You fuck me, Karma is going to fuck you harder. K is for kids. MY KIDS. Bad, good … bratty, not bratty. I love them. They are the reason I endure all of the chaos. I cannot describe in a blog the depth of love that I have for my kids. My heart swells on a daily basis as I watch them grow and learn and experience … and become these amazing little creatures. My creatures. My creations. I don’t know where I would be without either of them in my life. Also, K is for Kisses. Not the chocolate kind. The sensual, lovey, frenchy kind. Ask me the last time I have been Kissed. G’head. I remember thinking shortly before D left that it felt like we didn’t Kiss enough. I don’t want to feel like that anymore. Kisses. Gimme em.

L is for Love. Long Lasting Love. I Love Love. The idea of someone falling in Love with another person gets me all warm and tingly. To put it simply, I am in Love with Love. L is for Letters. I have received letters in the mail recently due to circumstances and they have kept me sane. I also think that L is for Longevity. Longevity in relationships, health, career … and Life. Because, L is also for Life. I am grateful for the Life I have been blessed with.

M is for Many Many Things. Music. Masturbation. Mommy’s. Motivation. Mayer. Martini. Marilyn Monroe. The most important thing? Music. Music saves me. If I need to be happy? Music. If I need a good cry? Music. If I need some panty dropping? Muuuuuuuusic. I need it in my life daily. Portishead. Natalie Merchant. Snoop. John Mayer. Poison. Alicia Keys. Elton John. Journey. Outkast. Sade. Aaliyah. John Legend. It all affects me the same but for different reasons.

List your A-M’s of gratefulness today. Take some time and remember what good we have been blessed with.

This weekend got me thinking about how much of an impact 1 simple decision can have on everything you do.

Example:

My decision to not deal with D being gone. I made an unconscious decision to just fucking ignore it.

When I got there, it hit me. I haven’t missed someone so much in my whole life like I missed him on Friday night. My right side was vacant. My heart was heavy. I tried my damnedest to play it off but seeing everyone with their significant others stung. With each sting … I made the decision to drink more.

Before I knew it …

I acted like an asshole. I drank too much. I cried like a little girl. I got cut off at the bar for the first time in my whole life. I broke a glass. I forgot a lot of the evenings events. I then made a decision to drive home which then led me to the decision to pull over in some random parking lot and pass out.

Right?!

This decision also led to people worrying about me and that makes me sad. I am not the irresponsible one. Anyway, I woke up on Saturday and wanted to crawl into a hole and just disappear from the world.

What did I say? Who did I say it to? Did I do anything overly embarrassing?

Ahhh… decisions, decisions.

We all make decisions to or not to do things.

Do I make the decision to punch that new work bitch in her face?
Do I make the decision to eat that cheeseburger that I really want to eat?
Do I make the decision to … do that … ?

Because of one bad decision … It dominoed into all of that chaos above. So, now … I have decided to make the decision to stop acting like I am tough all of the time. Because apparently, I am not. I am making the decision to deal with it and not push it out of my mind anymore. Because the next bullshit that happens will be way worse. I know me. That whole business told me about myself.

So. Yeah. As always, I learn the motherfucking hard way.

Have you made any bad decisions lately? How have they affected everything else in your life?
If you could go back and change one decision … one that affected everything in your life … would you? Why or why not?