The Honeymoon Period

A new year usually mean resolutions which in reality is just change.
We want to change our life styles, our habits, our appearances (sometimes surgically.)
It’s quite fitting that the inauguration of the new president (a man who embodies change for many) falls in the same month as the first day of the new year.
2009 has promise to be a year where differences can be made (or at least things will be forced to be different.)

As for myself, I’ve tried to make some changes and other changes have befallen me.
Since the changes started for me on December 15th when I got in that terrible accident, I was forced to adapt my lifestyle. But in the end, what seemed a hassle turned into something great.
-I’ve had to take the bus, which I loathe doing most of the time. I mean it costs money and people breathe on you and have fat asses and sit next to you and shit. But I’ve found myself reading again due to the 30-45 min commute and I’m on my way to finishing my second 350 page book in less than two weeks. I’m back in a series I love and had forgotten about.
- I decided to stop drinking during the week and lessening my weekend binges (I know, an impossible task). While it was hard at first, I feel physically better now, I’m not gaining weight as fast due to being unable to ride/workout, and I’ve saved money!
-Being broken means not being able to get around, which means seeing friends less and not having fun. But I’ve started knitting more and watching TV on DVD that I got for Christmas. I’ve seen my roommates more and we fight less and the house is the cleanest it’s ever been (which is saying something.)

Maybe it was the cosmos, but my resolutions to drink less, read/knit more, and continue to save money have so far held up, and perhaps not DUE to my accident, but it definitely helped the situation, in an odd way.

But perhaps the biggest change was one I had hoped for since I bought my first Teen Beat and had just now somehow stumbled upon by chance.

While in the suburbs, I was extremely bored. I mean REALLY FUCKING BORED.
I went with an old high school friend to see TWILIGHT at the movies. I was that god damned bored.
Since I could barely walk, most of my time was spent watching cable (REALITY TV SHOWS ARE THE DEVIL) or trying to make the internet work on my sisters laptop or sneaking on my mom’s work computer when she wasn’t home (I swear, I’m not downloading porn and infecting your computer mom! Must be my sister!)

But even the internet gets boring after awhile. Especially when the computer DOESN’T EVEN HAVE SPEAKERS. Without Youtube and Hulu, the internet gets old. I don’t know how I used to spend 17 hours IN A ROW on the net when I was 12 and the internet was not much more than a few angelfire pages and AOL chatrooms, but by god, I somehow found a way to waste half a day on instant messenger or something.

So when I got to the point where even my messageboards weren’t updating fast enough, my currently unemployed friend and I would gchat and send each other hilarious craigslist ads. Hers from her town, Milwaukee, mine from my town, Chicago. We would laugh at terrible pictures and lengthy novels of people trying to find love on the web (or at least sex.)
Then I got an idea.
Why don’t *I*put an ad up and see what kind of crazy, hilarious responses I can get?
I put a picture of myself where most of my face was covered, I didn’t give away my location, and I kept things funny yet at the same time serious (as in – PLEASE DO NOT BE A CREEPY OLD MAN.) Also I secretly hoped that a cute guy would actually respond. I mean, it could happen (MCWOOOOOOOOOOOOOORLD!)


Within 10 minutes of putting it up I already had about 15 responses. Most of them were just like “ur cute” or something equally as short and misspelled. I did get a few bad pictures as well as a few dudes older than my dad.
A few dudes had potential and I actually did respond, giving away my sacred spam email address.
But I was lowering my super high standards for these dudes.
Then, right as I was about to head out to see another movie (because that’s about all you can do in the suburbs when walking is painful), I received an email with a picture attached. The boy in the picture looked ATTRACTIVE. He wrote in sentences and was my age. He rode BIKES. He was not vegan or a chain smoker. WHAAAATTTTT.

I of course responded to him as I continued to forward to my Milwaukee friend and subsequently delete a plethora of crazy, ugly, old creeps who bombarded my inbox. I was hopeful that this potential craigslist goldmine would respond to my loser email. Then I realize that we were both losers since not only did I put an ad on craigslist in the PERSONALS section, but he found it and responded in a 95% serious way.

We emailed a few times, exchanged myspaces, and realized that we know a lot of the same people and have actually kind of sort of “met” before (by met I mean we were at the same party and never talked to each other and if we did I was too drunk to remember.)
Then we exchanged phone numbers and sent a few texts. Serious business.
We texted enough to plan for a brunch date the 2nd day I was back in the city. The Sunday before New Years Eve.
We ate, we talked, we shut down the restaurant.
Then he left town to go on a road trip.
I turned into a 14 year old girl.
Crushing, wondering if he likes me as much as I liked him, asking a mutual friend to ask him for me (DO U LIKE ME? CIRCLE YES OR NO!)
Then on new years eve, at midnight, I call him, extremely drunk, and apparently profess to him how much I like him and how cute he is.
I then blacked out.
He told me later that I called him not once more, but TWICE more and left a hilarious voicemail.
The night ended badly (nothing like getting kicked out of a cab and walking in the wrong direction for an hour) but by the following weekend, I was spending the night at my new found crushes house, followed by a 48 hour marathon weekend date. Then we went to a party together and at that point, we were officially dating.
I mean, we put it on Facebook and everything.
Then I took cute pictures.
He took me to the doctor when my mom couldn’t make it.
I made him soup and tea when he got the flu.
We would hang out Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, and then Friday.

And this was all in 3 weeks.

My friend told me to “take it slow” but did I listen?
Nooooo.
At least I haven’t met his parents yet.
But I know that we both told our parents that we met somebody and that they are our boy/girl friend. Oh lord.

I told myself I was going to try to be in a HEALTHY relationship finally. Less drunken one night stands, less pining after guys who are wrong for me, and less settling for a dude that I don’t even find attractive (oh hey everyone I dated until last year.)

But unlike the other changes I have made and I’ve seemed to stick with, I can’t seem to break the bad habits and attitudes I always apply towards relationships (or dating since I usually don’t last long enough to be in a real relationship.)

I blame a lot of it on my perfectionism that leads to a defeatist attitude and ultimately my way of simply giving up if I know I can’t accomplish something to the high standards I set for myself.
In this case, I’ve found a guy who has met more of my standards than any other guy yet STILL I worry that it’s not enough. Sure I think he’s very attractive and fun and interesting and he’s smart with money and knows how to ride a bike and fix one and isn’t a druggie and he is very enamored with me and touches me and laughs with me and wants to be with me.
But then I wonder if I’m falling into a role, if I’m playing a part for him. If I’m hiding my crazy so as to not scare him away. I wonder if we have enough if common of if it’s just body lust or if we have enough to talk about without just making silly jokes.
I have started overanalyzing a perfect situation, finding ways to make it fail.

My friend was right, I need to take it slow (and not just in the “don’t have sex right away” way since that bird flew the coop long ago.) I need to allow myself to do something different, to CHANGE and adapt to a relationship that has potential to be something real and new for me.
I need to get rid of the girl crazy stuff (WHY HASN’T HE TEXTED ME BACK 15 SECONDS LATER?!) and embrace the truths: I like him, he likes me, we can laugh together and we appreciate each other. (I THINK HE DOES? AHH THE GIRL CRAZY IS ALREADY BACK!)

There will be awkward silences and I just need to accept that instead of drinking just so my mouth will continue to run. We don’t need to see each other every other day, besides, absence makes the heart grow fonder.
I must remember that it’s NOT A GAME. There are no points awarded for going out more than staying in. No one is keeping a tally of how many times we repeat the same stupid joke.

Hopefully writing more will be the next change I can make while I work on maintaining the rest of my resolutions. It will at least let me get the crazy out into another arena instead of letting it loose all over a brand spanking new boyfriend.

Dead Babies

For some reason, be it the weak economy, the chill in the air, or just weird karma, almost every person I know, myself included, seems to be not just hooking up, but actually settling down and dating someone.

And since no one is married, we are young and we are not christians, birth control is a large topic of dicussion.

I've never been on any form of birth control.
And why is it that it's all the woman's responsibility?
Men have one (non-permanent) option.
Condoms.
That's it.

Meanwhile us woman can wear diaphragms in our cooters, shoot spermicide up there, or take some pill or patch or insert a fucking piece of metal that will release all kinds of crazy hormones that turn us into bleeding, bloating freaks.

And then guys give US shit because they don't wanna wear a condom.

You would rather me mess with my body chemistry?!
and that doesn't even protect against disease!!


Here's my question.
If they can make a pill that can make an 80 year old man get an erection long enough to have crazy old man sex, than how come they can't invent a pill that will just KILL SPERM?!

How hard would that be? It can't be that hard.
If spermicide kills sperm, put that shit in a pill or in a patch or in a piece of metal and stick it up the guys peehole and see how he likes it.

For now, I'll stick with condoms.
At least they come in different colors and styles and sometimes flavors (although any flavored just tastes like that flavor + plastic.)

So quit your bitching boys.
Or else I will kick you in the balls once a month so you know what it feels like to have your ovaries twist themselves into knots for a few days.
Sure feels a lot better than popping out a kid though, I imagine.

Think of the Children

Ever since I can remember I did not want to have kids.
I always felt pretty uncomfortable around them, especially babies.
I always hated it when some lady showed up with her newborn and all the other ladies would be all "OOOH LOOK AT THE BABY, CAN I HOLD THE BABY?!"
I never want to hold a baby. I'm afraid I'll "do it wrong" and then I'll drop the baby. That does not make a happy mommy.

And then they grow up into terrible toddlers who cry and want everything in the world.
Then they turn 7 and ask for a cell phone and you just want to smack them. Who are you gonna call? Grandma?
Then they hit puberty and they hate you.
Then then maybe one day when they are in the mid 20's, they finally say thank you.

Did I mention the cost?
I mean, shit god damn.
Babies are expensive.
They grow so much, you might need to buy them a new pair of shoes a week after you bought their last pair.
And the toys. The mountains of toys.
Then they want the new playstation and then a car and next you know, you are supposed to have $60,000 for college and then the wedding.

oy.
sorry mom and dad, but I can't really pay you back for all of that.

I'm quite happy spending all of my money on myself and my friends and loved ones (that I didn't give birth too.)
Of course my grandma likes to tell me that I have to get married and have a kid before she dies.
I hope she's on some good meds and taking her vitamins.
I'm much to selfish to have a kid. Yeah, I said it and it's true.

but then, you watch a movie called The Family Man and for one fleeting second, you want the 2 kids and the mortgage and the depressing job.
This was basically me this afternoon.

Or a few weeks ago when I realized that without kids, when you are old and dusty and all your friends are dying, you won't have that support system. Sure you have cousins but no immediate family.

Scary thoughts that make you doubt your own mindset.

I'm still nowhere near ready to have kids.
Hell, I'm just now about ready to have a stable, healthy relationship.
I have countries I want to see, bikes to race, and money to spend on myself.

But maybe I will find someone I really like.
Maybe I will get married.
Maybe I will lose my body forever and pop one out.

or maybe I'll just adopt (I don't need anymore stretch marks.)

Writing that out kind of scared me a bit. The idea of being pregnant and the pain of childbirth, egad! I mean, I've been hit by cars but I imagine having a living being come out of you hurts a TON more.

But all that is years into my future (possibly.)

For now, I'm perfectly fine ignoring strollers and wanting to smack the hell out of every kid in the grocery store.
And please, don't bring your baby near me.
It's probably not that cute anyway.