Step Back - She's Going to Blow - Part 1 of Many on the State of the Non-Union

Which is a helpful warning that I'm going to be venting here rather than sending him NLLL word laced emails about what the NLLL is wrong with him.

Quite frankly as someone very used to one side of the counselling chair and a little on the other, I know he's got issues - hell we all do and I know that those are present right now, like his inability to own his own shit and so it's mine to deal with.

Case in point - and yes this will come as a surprise to some of you. We struggled with maintaining the line of "intimacy" which is polite language for sex. He has in each of his dating relationships and I guess I have too but well that's ones more complicated but whatever, lets just for the sake of owning things call it equal.

So we knew it would be a struggle, we started on the same page verbally but alas that didn't work - so needless to say it happened. We talked about the fact that while he could I couldn't ethically etc. we trying to work every angle of how to structure the relationship back to non-sex land. It did eventually work itself out and then abruptly in January he started asserting the other boundaries.  My stuff was no longer welcome, my drawer started to thin out, my food was no longer welcome and things changed. I figured that the lack of sex was the issue. Well I couldn't change that but figured we would ride through that.

Turns out the issue wasn't the lack, it was that there had been any at all. I am a grade A slutty harlot who stood between him and Jesus. And you know what I'm going to own that - not because I agree or that I am but if you cannot own that you initiated the majority, that you wanted that kind of a relationship than that's your shit but you cannot put it on me. I have mine to deal with and I own it as un-proud as it makes me feel.

I'm not proud - it was hard and having both of us effectively live alone didn't help - boundaries you are a challenging beast. But I will not be shamed or blamed.

Shame, blame, disrespect, betrayal, and the withholding of affection damage the roots from which love grows. Love can only survive these injuries if they are acknowledged, healed and rare.” 

Brene Brown

Like Clockwork

Every time I bitch about the Douche he redeems himself. After grumbling that the man couldn't find his balls or his spine long enough to just decline the offer, and then of course on Friday after I had told HSBFF in no uncertain terms that despite her belief of a lot of repression but there could be good underneath that she was wrong, he finds me in the atrium and starts a casual conversation. I initially was all:

Like seriously do we need the pretense, you're a douche and there is no way around that and then he "apologizes" and declines the offer, which for some reason unknown to me I said sure well let know if anything else looks interesting... like NLLL let it go, he's never going to be truly decent to you. He's always going to make you want to through something at him and whether it's a plate or yourself it's not going to go down well. You're just going to find yourself doing this and raging inside.

Maybe, just Maybe

I might be too Bitchy McBitcherson for my own good.

I was scanning old posts, trying to figure out where I have been in the last few years and get a little perspective.  Well it seems that while I'm actually a lot funnier and quirkier than this blog demonstrates most days I definitely do not mince words when it comes to menfolk, and that is actually very true to life. The following gems, though almost two years old now definitely still represent how I feel, though my BCBG stilettos have been shelved until they can be re-heeled.

"Personally for me a man who can't initiate is destined to be skinned alive not only on this blog but also by me. Maybe I am jaded, just too many man children running around - you have to test them with a little flame or hook to see what they're made of, or maybe it's like X says, relationships are a dance, an equal give and take partnership, if it's lopsided you fall and someone get's smooshed/crushed in the process. In the end their weakness will result in them finding their way to the bottom side of my soft gray BCBG stiletto pumps."

And last but not least a comment in regards to this post by TOITB:

"We (women) are insane - I think you (X) know that and well the men I have come to know personally definitely push the stupid category (AB, DirectoryBoy, OM and the list goes on). In the end it is about finding someone you think is a tolerable amount of insane, and for me that means I need to find someone that doesn't make me want to self lobotomize myself with a plastic knife. So romantic isn't it?"

Well as we can tell the dating world is going swimmingly and once again I am enjoying the space in my bed and the freedom to go to Starbucks without caring that I don't have any eyeliner on. 

I Might Miss My Job

One of N's co-workers came in this morning
Me: You're a vision in pink and purple, like...
N-CW: Barney
N: More like Doctor Barbie"
Me: "Actually more like Scrub Barbie.  Doctor Barbie comes with stilettos, a mini skirt and a stethoscope, those you don't have.

Maybe it's not that funny but I'm going to miss some of the girls here - most of those are ones I don't work with directly... *sigh* but truthfully those feelings diminished pretty quickly when the server this morning decided to be a pain in my ass, the heat is being screwy and I'm exhausted and it isn't even 9:30am.

So I met with the other PU and she's well like Margery Kemp and I guess that is always the way it is going to be so I'm just going to have to get down with that.  The things that I thought she would be negative about she wasn't so heck that's a plus.  But the life-like Margery K isn't really working for me - she was enough in literary format.  Oh well, I guess that's life, it could be worse. 

Like... realizing that John Mayer is the head deity in the Man-Child religion - I have been listening to Taylor Swift's Dear John song on endless repeat, why I don't know to be honest, but the lyrics remind me of AB.  Yes we can question if it is about JM but really it is whether she says it is or not.  So know that I've come to that realization I'm not sure how I benefit - does it mean that man children can renounce their beliefs, does it mean that they can convert later in life - because if that is the case how do I screen for that? Oh why John, why do you need to keep seducing the all the cute talented men over to your dark and twisty but oh so cute cult?

Reassurance

Advice from a Single Girl posted that she is currently having a little bump in the I'm fierce, fabulous and free but wouldn't mind being taken road. Honey, that road for me is like an North or Midwest highway after winter. Courtesy of FB I should note that in addition to the bumps there are also ego er car swallowing potholes. OM is now officially dating someone. And while it shouldn't bug me that our resident closet case has found the closest thing to man give or take a few organs it is still frustrating. First is the nagging comparisons, next to this woman I look like a woman who breathes and sh*ts pink, laces and books on etiquette. Why would I even be attractive if you seem to like them flat, rectangular and on board with going days in the woods without bathing... Oh egos you are annoying things.

So yes please join my I'm fabulous, feminine and can cook myself out of any conundrum that could ever occur pity party, because what the hell. I am cough *late twenties* cough and I can only seem to get shit for offers. You are probably saying, but S&P you are over dramatic. Am I?

Exhibit 1. Murder Mystery - my faux love interest couldn't even flirt with me - he's a sweet guy I've known for years - but he couldn't even fake it for the course of an evening - way to make a girl feel like she's completely deficient.

Exhibit 2. Bus on Tuesday with my Saloon Girl costume and large black feather boa. Nice regular asks what's with the boa after sitting and staring at it for most of the 20 minute ride. I responded the get up was for a murder mystery. The response Oh, nice... silence... averted eye contact. Like what did you want to hear buddy? The boa is part of my strip tease act? Or that I randomly walk around with a black boa because I think that's cool, fashionable, not weird. I know I should be more gracious, but I will not offer more grace to a man who when he has the upper hand in the socially awkward department does not take it.

Anyways yes I know I have said that I have no room for a relationship and that is true, but it's still frustrating for me when I see fabulous women around me getting left behind while others who aren't so fabulous in my eyes get caught.

So pity party aside - to all the lovely, smart, talented, break the mold and won't take your baggage kinds of women I offer this:



I know it's no womyn power, hear me roar song, it's my it's going to be okay song...
Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinetree4com/2723689315/

PS. OM's gf is a nice person don't get me wrong, I wish her loads of luck with the cold fish, my annoyance is at him and her FB glee.

 

One of my new real loves

So while I'm trying to convince my brain that it LOVES: basic math (fractions, bedmas, etc), obscure and obtuse vocabulary, and memorizing large chunks of 18th century poets, it needs no assistance in it's new real loves for white chocolate soy Americano misto's and GLEE. So on the note of GLEE and what they've made likely one of the most popular songs by Journey I give you this cover, and yes I am aware it's not GLEE, I might argue it's even slightly better, eek.

Purging...

Emotions are a nasty bee-atch. In all honesty I texted AB last night, not for a booty call, no point driving a hole through my heart regardless of how drunk I could have been, and for the record wasn't that drunk. I confessed that I still missed him bitterly and I hated that, I hated I couldn't forget him. He said he missed me too and wanted to get together. Jerk.

So what did I do? All day today I cleaned, every corner of my bedroom, scrubbed the windows, the window screens, the walls, floor boards, rearranged the furniture, washed everything. In the faint, small hope that when I got into bed tonight it would feel different, that the memories wouldn't come flooding back in the clarity in which they consistently do. That I wouldn't long for him knowing it was all completely pointless, and that I wouldn't feel jealous. That I wouldn't wonder about the woman who being better for him than me would be able to get him to open up and truly love someone. I know that it is me. Not that woman, no that it is about me. That I can't be that woman, that I'm not that woman. It sucks to try to daily process that, when they are that person. The person who you first really love and open up everything in your life to and they choose to walk away.

So I work to daily purge what I can - leaving the wounds as clean as possible in the hopes they heal, the scars fade ever so slightly and I move on - another one of those faint hopes.

PS It feels no different in bed tonight...