Neurotic Ramblings

Posts Tagged ‘dating’

I’m <this> close to throwing in the towel.  I’ve had it.

I can’t even find the words to properly describe my frustration with my life lately.  I want help.  I want my kids’ dad to fking step up and take care of shit.  Take the kids away from me every once in a while.  I can’t do this.  I’m losing my g-d mind.  Homework, projects, daycare, clothes, meals, mommy, mommy, mommy.  It’s never ending.  Yes, I’m frustrated.  And fk whoever thinks I’m a weaker person for admitting it.  I WILL get through this and I WILL come out shining and the project WILL be kick ass and I’ll figure out my finances, but DAMNIT, I can rant about it in the process because getting it out is the only thing that will keep me sane.

I’m walking out of the library, frustrated because it’s late, it’s cold, it’s raining and I don’t have cash to pay for the print-outs and they don’t take debit cards.  The circles under my eyes are big and dark because I’ve stayed up late the past few couple of days.  I’m exhausted and it shows.  I looked cute all day, but at that moment when I’m walking out, I feel the hell of the last couple of days weighing me down.  And who do I see as I’m walking out?  Of course it’s him and his girlfriend.  Looking as merry as ever, with NO FKING KIDS.   No, her kids are who knows where and he can’t take care of his/mine because of some lame ass excuse or another.  WHY???

A great friend of mine hit me with reality this morning.  I was wondering to myself, and to him on gchat as well I suppose, “Why would a guy NOT want to date me?”  Yes, it was a moment of self-absorption, but my friend was quick to burst it.  You have BAGGAGE.  An ex who isn’t worth the air that he breathes, no degree, and two kids.  It will take a strong man to want to take on raising two kids that aren’t his.  SAY WHA?!  I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.  Maybe because I’m not looking for a baby daddy replacement, or a husband, or anything more than a companion at this point.  My kids don’t need a dad.  They have one.  And financial matters aside, a great one at that.  Yes, contradiction is my strong point.  But fuck.  I’m tired of being lonely.  I’m tired of not having someone there to share MY life with.  Maybe not every aspect, but most of it.

-Maybe- I need to stay away from emotionally unavailable men.  Maybe I need to stay away from men altogether.  But c’mon, how many times have you heard me say that???

But this is what I do.  I let everything build up, get frustrated as fuck, let it all out, and then everything is right again.  This is how I manage to function.  It’s a scary thought.  All my breakdowns are neatly chronicled in a web page accessible for the world to see.  But at the same time, it’s a bit freeing.  Maybe, I just need to write more.

And thank you to the person who inspired the title to this post.  I hope my crazy streak hasn’t scared you off too much.

After spending the last five days at home, being at work seems like a harsh punishment for wanting material things in life.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where my life is, where it’s going and how it seems like I’ll never be where I want to be.

This semester has basically gone to shit. My GPA will drop. That’s a given. I’m completely out of the game and while I can still hope for one A and maybe two Bs, a C will be the inevitable outcome of the lab I’m taking. I don’t do Cs. Hell, I don’t do Bs either, but settling is what I have to do.
Yeah, I could have put more effort into it, devoted more time to studying rather than sleeping, but I’m fucking exhausted.

The options on how to solve this time/money/school crisis are not good ones:
a. Move back in with my mom and go to school full time. I JUST moved out. I’m not doing this to myself or to my kids.
b. Only do half-time at school for Spring. This will slow me down, yet again, and I’ll be further and further away from my degree.
c. Go to school full-time and get a part-time job. This makes sense, except for the money part. I can barely afford to live with my full-time “decently paid” job. How will I manage on less than half the pay?
d. Leave things as they are, get some good drugs and go full speed. This seems like the most reasonable one.

On top of all this, my kids need their extra-curricular activities back. M needs to get back in soccer. She misses it and it would be so beneficial to her health-wise and to release some pent up anger. Kbob needs something to keep him busy. He’s got way too much energy and needs a structured activity to release it.

Why can’t I have it easy like I see so many undeserving people do? I know that makes me sound like a bitch, but I see so many women out there with guys who take care of them. Pay the bills while they go to school full-time and support and love kids that aren’t even theirs. Meanwhile I’m by myself, which is better than what I had while I was married anyway since I was basically by myself then too, but it’s fucking hard. It seems like I’ll never be at a place where I’m calm and stable.

I’ve chosen to go into the education field not only because I like it, but because it offers stability that other fields don’t. I get time off coinciding with my kids and that’s a HUGE deal to me. My mom was always there for vacation time and it meant the world to me; I want to be able to do the same with my kids. It just seems my kids will be grown and out of the house by the time I finally graduate.

And yeah, I’m lonely. There are days I wish I had someone there to just chill with and talk to, but that’s not important right now. I realize that, and while my focus sometimes shifts to this, it’s just the woman in me talking. I think I’ll save the rest of this for another day. I’ve dragged this out enough as it is.
Oh, Mondays…you kill me.

Whoa.

That is the overall sentiment regarding last night.

A few highlights…showing someone a picture of another someone’s torso and it being recognized. I’m cutting my losses short here (again) and not bothering with it anymore.

I have got to stay away from…damnit, I can’t even say keywords, nicknames or give context clues without giving myself away here.

I’m pretty sure I grabbed my ex’s girlfriend when she walked in last night and said “Hey, ma!” very loudly. He looked annoyed. Oh wells.

I danced. Oh.my.gawd. did I dance. And then I stumbledanced to techno. I wonder if I can coin that term. Or if I would even want to…

My phonebook is trouble.

I need coffee in an IV drip. Preferably Flavia’s Intense Dark Roast.

Anything and everything I say after midnight cannot and will not be held against me. This includes texts, emails, phone calls, personal conversations and telepathic glances. The midnight stipulation is null and void if I’ve had more than three shots before midnight at which point the rule applies then and there. I guess I should also include myspace, facebook and twitter communication in here as well.

Ok, now that I’ve had my coffee and I’m eating an Oreo cookie I can go on a proper mini-rant and toot my own horn a bit in the process:

I’m fucking awesome. I know I have my quirks and I’m a bit neurotic at times, but I’m a good person, damnit. Yes, I may be stuck up, but if it weren’t for the narcissist in me I’d crumble at my own insecurities. I’m loud, but not obnoxiously loud. I’m a sweetheart. I really am. I like to make people happy. I’m a people pleaser, sometimes to a fault, and sometimes to my own advantage, but I can’t help it if I want people to like me. I’m pretty. I may not have a perfect body, but I’m pretty fucking hot. I’m a dance machine. I have a bright future ahead of me. I’m not as responsible as I’d like to be, but I’m doing a pretty damn good job with what I have. I call when I say I will and I always return texts. I feel like I should end this with “I like to go for long walks on the beach” (which I do, btw) But seriously guys, I had to write this so I don’t feel insignificant and undeserving. I feel like I should be back in middle school yelling “Why doesn’t he like meeeeeee?!” to my best friend. It’s stupid and fucking ridiculous and this is why it’s reserved to be written on my blog instead of shouted at the top of my lungs.

Ok…/ pitty-party rant.

The differences between being a gold-digger and a pampered princess:
A gold-digger is with you because of your assets.  All she is interested in is what materialistic stuff you can give her.

A pampered princess actually likes you for you.  The gifts and dinners and dates and nice things you do for her are icing on top of the cake; they’re part of why she likes you, but not the main reason.

 
A gold-digger expects you to pay.  She has it in her head that it’s your job and that’s about all you’re good for when you’re with her.  If you can’t cover the bill, it seems you’re going to end up washing dishes because she can’t even cover her half.

A pampered princess assumes you’re going to pay since you invited her out, after all, and it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.  She, however, is prepared to foot the bill in case you turn out to be a cheapskate and fiddle with the bill a bit too long implying that either a) you expect her to cover her order or b) you ordered the most expensive meal on the plate and now you want to split it down the middle or the worst of the worst: c) you expect her to cover all of the bill because you picked up the check at McDonalds last time you took her out. 

 
A gold-digger will only hang out with you when you’re looking your best, decked out in your gear and taking her out.  She likes to show you off when you’re flashing your card and showing the world that you spoil her and pay for everything.

A pampered princess likes hanging out with you on a Sunday morning, chillin in pj’s, eating cereal while watching tv.  She likes to show you off both when you’re in your broken-in jeans, t-shirt and sandals or dressed to the 9s and ready to take her out. 

 
I feel like I’m putting way too much thought into this and trying to justify myself.  I want to be spoiled.  I want to be pampered.  I want to be taken care of every once in a while. 

Yes, I love being independent.  I take pride in it.  I want to be able to say I got this for myself and I don’t need anyone to help me get it.  But every once in a while it’s nice to hear, “no, I got this, you deserve it”.  It’s nice to be able to indulge in a luxury without worrying about how it will affect next month’s bills.  No, I’m not saying I expect this 24/7.  Heaven knows I’ve put in more than my fair share of supporting someone, no questions asked.  I have no problem footing the bill every other time.  It’s only fair.  But when I’m made to feel guilty for being taken somewhere, and it’s always by subtleties like a snide comment or a hesitation when the bill arrives, that pisses me the fuck off.  How about you don’t invite me out?  Or if you can’t afford to hang out that night then opt out.  I pay for my friends when I know they’re down and I do it because they’d do the same for me and because I know they won’t take advantage and order the most expensive thing they see, or keep a tab on how many more drinks I’ve had than them, or eat off my plate or my friend’s plate and embarrass the fuck out of me. 

I hate feeling guilty for thinking this way.  I feel hypocritical to think that women deserve the same rights and respect that men get, but still want to be treated like a lady by their guy.  Men have twisted the concept of feminism and liberal women into a web that benefits them.  Since women want to feel powerful and assume “male roles” then they should be able to assume the same roles in the dating world.  Sorry, but no.  If I’m guilty of faulty logic, then so be it.  I’m tired of cheap asses and embarrassment.    I’m tired of saying “don’t worry about it…”  I want to be spoiled.  I want to be pampered.  And I want to feel like I’m worth it.  Not like you’re going out of your way to spoil me only so you can rub it in my face later and tell me about how broke you are now because of that one fucking time you actually did something for me.

Being spoiled is not a bad a thing.  Wanting to be spoiled doesn’t make someone shallow.
Expecting someone to take care of you when you have nothing more to offer than your looks is gold-digging. 

Knowing your worth, being able to offer intellect, looks, wit and good company and allowing yourself to be pampered every now and then is every woman’s right. 

 
What do you think, ladies?  Am I right on point or way off base on this one? 

Guys, am I asking for too much?  What do you expect from a girl when you’re taking her out on a date?  What about if you’ve been in a relationship for a while, do expectations change?

 
*Oh, and please note that this was written a long while back and in no way reflects my current situation.  I’ve been happily single and supporting no one’s habits but my own recently with a smile on my face and a pep in my step.*

Hola!

How was your weekend?  Mine was fun and family-packed.  I decided Saturday to take the kids to the park instead of Sunday because we had plans to go to the movies.  My kids are monkeys.  Seriously.  I was checking around for a spot to sit when I look up and see Kbob clibing on top of the monkey bars.  I was mortified he would fall, but he just climbed all the way to the end and slid down one of the posts.  Meanwhile, M was doing flips on the hand bars.  That girl is too damn big to be hanging upside down on those things…I swear they’re made for kids under 3′ tall.  Then they decided they wanted me to play tag with them.  Eh, what the hell, right?  Yeah, I was the only adult running around trying to tag my kids.  Fun times.  The highlight of the day “MOM!  stop running!  your boobs jiggle when you run like that!”  yeah, poor M.  Next time I need to remember to wear a sports bra and a t-shirt.  I wasn’t prepared for running that much.

Sunday was High School Musical 3 day.  Fun times.  Ha.  The movie was corny, but the staging and choreography was amazing.  It was a really good movie.  M loved it and Kbob was a good sport and sat through it all.  He was a bit dissapointed that his crush, Selena Gomez, was not in the movie, but he kept making fun of Ashley Tisdale’s Sharpay.  Then we walked around the mall looking for jewelry until M decided she was hungry and wanted some Jason’s Deli.  I love that place and I’m glad they do too because I’ve just been saying no to fast food and Texas Roadhouse was getting expensive.

In other news…I found out that typical Mexican men don’t like being called “typical Mexican men”.  Who woulda thunk?!  Another one bit the dust.  Sorry honey, but I have a voice, an opinion, and you will hear it if I think you’re being an ass.  You will also hear it if I think you said or did something innapropriate.  And if your shauvenistic ass can’t take a woman who puts you in your place, then I’m sorry.  Again, I will say it, you’re a typical Mexican man.  And in this lovely place we call the valley, we’re innundated with them.  Fin. 

Well, that was some funny shit.  Bring it on.

Buenos dias mis lovelies…

I really have nothing of substance to say today, it’s mostly bitching and recaping and whatnot.  What else is new, right???

My cooch is super sore.  I decided to try yet another “do it yourself” waxing kit.  Why?  Because I wasn’t going to have time to go to a salon, which now I found out I would have, fucker.  Anyway, I peeled the hell outta my skin.  But, everything is nice and smooth and bare down there and I won’t have to worry about it for awhile.

I also got back on birth control yesterday.  If you’re putting two and two together, yes, it means I’m planning on getting laid in the very near future.  I had to go to Mexico to get the one month shot bcs it’s super cheap and I know how to give myself shots so it was easy.  Well, sort of.  I have wararnts for tickets so I begged my friend to drive over so she did.  On the way back, the officer was an ass.  I didn’t have my birth certificate and asked us to pop the trunk.  Then he runs our licenses which takes awhile and then he hands my friend this little orange note and tells us to stop at inspection spot 13.  Fuck me.  I was sure I was getting arrested.  Lo tried to calm me down, but I was a freaking mess.  Thankfully, this officer was extremely nice and had us on our way in no time.  Yeah, I’m not going to Mexico anymore.

We ended up having dinner at a Japanese restaurant called Uchi, delicious chicken teriyaki.  Seriously.  And no, that so didn’t taste like Mexican rice.  Then we headed to my house to watch the Hills and chit chat.  Fun times.

Now I’m sitting here pondering what it’s going to be like working with my new boss and a lady that used to have my job and basically hates the department I’m coming from.  You know the term “pitbull in a skirt”?  well, she’s a pitbull in doc marten’s. 

I keep second guessing myself with this new guy I’m seeing and it’s pissing me off.  My friend came to the conclusion that I’m just not used to someone treating me right.  She’s right.  I’m not used to a guy wanting more than sex from me.  It’s weird.  He sent me roses to work yesterday.  He calls when he says he will and he’s really sweet and nice.  Again, why do I find this to be an issue?  I’m just going to throw caution to the wind and have fun.  Not be stupid, just not all paranoid. 

Anytwat, I’m out.  I have work do.