Talking Smack

IT'S GROUP BLOG THURSDAY!  YAY!  (Brought to us by Stephanie)

Unfortunately I'm getting a late start because I had to work this morning.  And I don't have the luxury of using a computer during work.  Which, believe me, would be happening if I had the chance. 

This week's Group Blog is about...dun dun dun...blogging about your husband/significant other and whether or not he likes it.  Well, I'll tell you this much- he is always suspicious.  He always tries to peak around my shoulder and see what I'm writing, and I don't like it.

I am one of those sorts that doesn't like her work to be read before she's finished.  I am also that person that sits in bed with her laptop in front of her while her boyfriend watches TV next to her.  He has snooping eyes, because he is always curious about what I'm saying.  I will say this, though: he doesn't care if it's about him, he's more worried about the OTHER guys I'm blogging about.

Yep.  For some reason he thinks I have a whole shroud of other guys in my life, despite the fact that we A) live together and B) I do not know any other guys in this city.  I am not sure where this idea came from but sometimes it really irks me.  He's not really a jealous person, either, which is the weird part.  Maybe it's because I have lots of guy friends back home (they are really JUST friends and ONLY friends, though) that he doesn't know.  He's never met my friends or family since they all live in Michigan and we live in Phoenix.  If he would just wait until I'm done writing whatever I'm writing, I'd let him read it, but usually if I tell him to stop reading over my shoulder he gets huffy-puffy and says, "Whatever, I'm going to bed."  Typical male.

I don't really write about him, though.  I mention an occasional story about something that happens or what we're doing but I tend to keep my current relationships between...well, just us, because I don't like starting drama.  Now, if I had more to say about my relationship with him, he would probably be interested in reading about it, but I'm sure he would take everything I say the wrong way.  He's quick to jump to conclusions.  So it's probably a good thing I don't write much about him.  We've been together a year this month (wow) but he's had some past girlfriends that really did him in.  After a year I'd think he would be able to trust me, since I obviously am not going to do anything to hurt him or ruin our relationship, but he's still young.  Younger than I am.  He's still in his training years.  So I have some time to work on him.  (ha ha)

I guess if I sent him the link to my blog I could see what he says.  He used to read my MySpace blog occasionally but he never seemed that interested.  He doesn't like reading much.  I'm sure he would never say anything unless he got a wrong message from it.

So, yay for Group Blog Thursdays but mine was really dull!  lol.  Hope everyone is having a good afternoon.

It's Gone Stale

As usual, Stephanie has a great blog today: Sex After Marriage.  I can thankfully say I'm not married at this moment.  What I can say is, it can't be much different from a long-term relationship and sex after a while.

I haven't lost interest in sex, no.  What I have lost interest in is trying to create the mood.  It's only been a year.  He's already begun to notice it.  In fact, I'm frequently awaken by his "sleep-fondling" and sometimes it really pisses me off.  Other times, I think to myself, "Yeah, I guess it's about that time."  So many factors have to be considered in the reasoning behind the dry spell.  Stress at work, stress at home, exhaustion, depression, feeling lonely.  I believe a lot of the time I start a dry spell just because he is not interested in having a night alone with me, without video games or the television.  I don't feel we have that special connection like we did at first, when all we did was go at it.

He has said several times he honestly believes his sleeping problems come from the lack of getting laid.  I laughed in his face and said that I wished that was my problem, because I'd be tapping it every night.  Usually, though, my problems are deeper, like most women.

I believe that keeping a healthy sex life is exactly like keeping a healthy relationship.  We have to be open and honest with each other, we have to spend quality time together (WITHOUT distractions, except maybe a good movie), we have to create the mood.  I don't mind doing all of those things, but I don't like being the one to do it all the time.  By creating the mood, I don't mean turning off the TV and lights, and then spooning and rubbing yourself on me.  I mean, MAKE DINNER FOR ONCE.  Light a few candles.  Rub my feet if I ask you to.  I do it for you all the time without being asked, and so should you.

I think a lot of women like to hold sex over a man's head.  I'm not all about doing that.  That situation could probably be the driving reason behind cheating.  However, maybe we're not the only ones who have expectations.  Communication in a relationship goes both ways, and men should tell us how they like to be seduced.  I mean, after all, we have fantasies, so why can't they?

I know my man loves me.  He has taken care of me for the last six months without one complaint.  I know a lot of men do that for their wives and girlfriends, as well.  All I'm asking for is some effort in the home.  Nothing turns me on more than watching him wield a vacuum cleaner and mop!  Seeing a clean house when I know I haven't touched a thing makes me wanna jump right in bed, because I know I have the energy!

If all of us took time to focus on our partners and shared what we would like, I think that sex wouldn't feel like such a chore to some.  Even if it is only admitting how stressed out we are or that we just haven't been up to it because of exhaustion.  However, we have to share that emotional bond along with the physical bond, otherwise one or the other will end up feeling resentful.  All it takes is one conversation to stir up those sexual desires again.

Sex Does Not Mean Love!

I love that phrase soooo much. It used to be my motto. Back in my heyday, even being as young and naive as I was, I would have to explain this to my friends on an almost daily basis.

"John hasn't called you back? Well, did you have sex with him? You did? It was great, huh? Well, that's awesome. But it doesn't mean shit."

How many hearts have been broken over that one guy that was "It," "The One," all because a poor girl thought sleeping together would make him love her?

Or, what about the guys that had their hearts ripped out because of the girl? That's a more interesting twist. How many girls have broken a guy's heart by only wanting the occasional one night stand or "fuck buddy"? I'll raise my hand- I've done it.

This is actually a sad story for me to tell. It may bring a tear or three to my eyes because this guy is still in my life, and it's a very confusing situation. When I was 20 (yes, so very many years ago), I was a very wild and crazy girl, and on the rebound. I had broken off my engagement to my boyfriend of three years and just wanted to go nuts. I'd never been to a crazy drunken party, I'd never made out with a random guy (or girl), and I'd never woken up and tried to escape without waking up the unknown figure beside me. I figured it was now or never.

I went to a mudding party (how hick, right?) with my friend and cousin one afternoon, and figured I'd have a couple beers and finally get real good and drunk. At this point I'd probably been drunk maybe twice in my life and was due for some good craziness. We started the night out right, by opening some beer provided by my friend's brother and jumping in a 4-wheel drive truck and hitting the mud pit. The windows were rolled down and it was awesome. The guys were driving their big, beaten up POS's, and the girls were in the passenger seats, screaming and laughing and getting splattered by the mud flying in through the windows. My friend Amber and I were in the same truck with my brother's best friend, Fred, and had just got done saying how good he was looking. In high school I had flirted and teased him a lot, just because he was my little brother's friend, but now that he was graduated and (mostly) grown up, he was looking pretty good. I had called dibs on him, and that's how it started.

At this point I had no idea what it would turn into.

We got drunk. There were probably fifteen guys and five girls there, and most of the girls were already spoken for, including me. Fred had his arm around me the entire night, and I really didn't mind. It was just for fun, right? At some point, one of my past ex's showed up, and he happened to be good friend with Fred. I tried to avoid him, but he just had to tell me how sorry he was for everything and how he wished he could change things. I wasn't interested. However, he did go to Fred and tell him, "Don't fuck this up with her, she's a good girl to have." I was pissed, because I just wanted to have my first one-night stand, not a romantic hook-up that turns into more! That bastard couldn't keep his trap shut, though, and had to keep going on and on about how he wished he wouldn't have cheated on me and how great I was to him and how he kept all the letters I wrote him and blah blah fuckin' blah.

I wanted to shove his face right in the mud pit.

However, I didn't. I let it go and had some fun. Which led to even more fun in the house, later on.

In the morning, I got dressed quietly, found my keys and left. Fred was still sleeping and I thought I had escaped the situation. I felt great.

Until that night. It was Easter Sunday, I remember, and I had a get together to go to at my grandma's. I showed up and was talking to my brother, who just so happened to be talking to Fred on the phone moments before I showed up.

"Fred wants to know if you and Alison want to hang out with us tonight."

I didn't know what to say. "Um, I don't know. I'll have to see what's going on."

"You better not fuck with him."

Oh, boy. Even my brother knew what would happen before it did.

Fred turned into my one-night stand turned to occasional friend with benefits turned to a guy I'm dating.

WHAT?!

Whoa. I didn't know what was going on. I knew I didn't want anything serious. I was on the rebound! I wanted to have sex with lots of guys! Safe sex, of course, but sex nonetheless! Everyone kept telling me, "He's a great guy and likes you a lot." And I never knew what to say because, yes, I liked Fred. He was fun and cute and hilarious and sweet. But I didn't like him as more than what he already was to me: A fuck buddy.

It turned into a disaster. Somehow, one night turned into three months and everyone was inviting us to places as a couple and if I was going somewhere, he was sure to turn up, and if he was going, I would probably be there, too.

I broke his heart in the worst way possible. My brother threw a party at our parents' house while they were away, and we had people over. Mostly his friends, but I was there, just to hang out for a while. I had plans to leave later on. Fred showed up, and he was immediately all over me, putting his arms around me and kissing me and I needed a breather. My friend followed me outside and asked what was going on, and I just said, "I need to get away." She was seeing my brother, so I left her there and drove (sober) to another friend's a few towns away. I ended up having the craziest night ever, not to mention my first real one-night stand.

And my second one-night stand, as well.

Don't judge me. I know, that's sick. Two guys in one night? What a slut. But really, it was out of character for me and I was so inebriated I couldn't see my own feet to get to a bed. I slept in my car that night in my friend's driveway, and the next morning, I couldn't believe what I had done. My 21st birthday was two weeks away and Fred and my brother were throwing me a party, and I had just gone and fucked things up.

Fred didn't hold a grudge. Apparently he called me a few names while talking to my brother, but he was never mean to me. He still helped throw me the best 21st birthday party EVER and even bought me a birthday present. We still talk to this day, but it still baffles me how it started from me just wanting to get laid to having someone fall hard for me. And believe me, it's not just because he was a clingy guy, because he definitely isn't.

Now I'm just curious. Why does this happen? I do know a lot of it has to do with having low self-esteem. However, I don't know why sex would lead some people to believe that a physical relation with another person means love, whether it was pretty good or fan-fucking-tastic.

Then again, I'm in a relationship now with someone who was supposed to be a one night stand. Maybe I'm the exception to the rule: sex does not mean love, unless you're doing it with Nicolette.

I'm doomed. What about you?

After note:
After that summer of going crazy, Fred and I did get closer, and he turned into more than just a fuck buddy. He has become one of my best friends, and now that we are separated by a million miles, I realize how great he was to me, and I miss him a lot. I think we do love each other in a very weird way, because nothing can be normal between us.

All of that out of a one night stand. If Chris and I don't last, I'm going to make sure I never have another one night stand again.

The Roommate

Could almost be a scary movie title, right?

Roommates...the biggest mistakes I've ever made. The biggest mistakes almost everyone out of high school makes. There are some that you can end up great friends with; but most of the time, we're just lucky to walk away from the experience with some good stories and most of our belongings (I'm still missing several books and pairs of shoes).

I used to talk to my best friend in high school about how we would make great roommates and we'd decorate our apartment in retro style and have bean bag chairs and posters everywhere. For some reason I had a thing for blow up furniture and decided I wanted to have a blow up chair in my room and possibly a bed. It seemed so awesome yet far away at the time. Once we graduated, things changed and we didn't even talk for a whole year afterwards, so I didn't experience the roommate thing with her. My first time with roommates was actually pretty awesome, and to this day I will always ask, "Why couldn't every roommate be like Jason and Beth were?"

My ex and I moved in with a couple he met through his job. They were several years older than us, with two Alaskan huskies and two kitty cats. Despite the fact that I'm deathly allergic, I figured I'd try it out, because I didn't want to live with my mother a second longer. It turned out to be the best experience I'd ever have with roommates. We split our chores between guys and girls: guys did the lawn and outside work, girls did the inside chores. We took turns cooking for each other and cleaning the bathroom. We never argued about eating each other's food, we never held grudges about one another being too loud at night, we never had a problem with each other's friends. It was the best living arrangement, ever. It helped that we all hung out together and liked each other a lot, and never had a problem with each other's significant other's. That would all change when the dream roommates decided to move to West Virginia, leaving us to find two new roommates to fill their spots. From that point on, I wouldn't have another good roommate experience.

The first two to move in were a brother and sister that were way too old to be living at home. The guy, Tony, was in my ex's band, and his sister was a cosmetologist. They both worked full-time and drove nice cars their parents bought them. I should have known it would be trouble. The sister, Jessi, was spoiled rotten. She was used to someone doing her dishes, her laundry, cleaning up after her, and allowing her boyfriend to stay as long as he wanted. The boyfriend was a problem. I came home one afternoon and found him watching TV in our living room, and Jessi wasn't even there. She gave him the key to let himself into the house. Big no-no. Second thing was, she had just turned 21 a few months before and was still going through the "I'm legal to drink so I'm going to spend all my money at the bar" stage. When the first electric bill was due, she didn't have it. It was two weeks late. It happened again the next month. However, she did have money to spend at the bar and on the shit ton of makeup she seemed to bring home everyday.

Tony was all right- the only problem was he took pity for his sister because she had never been on her own before. Well, sorry Tony, your sister has to go. We gave Jessi two week to get out at the end of the third month, when she had failed to pay her half of rent and bills the entire month, and kept letting her boyfriend stay there after we had asked her politely to limit it to one night a week.

I had several more roommates after that, but the worst was my own cousin, I'm afraid to say. My ex and I were making more than enough to cover our two-bedroom apartment, but she wanted out of her dad's house and so we made an agreement that she would pay us $100 a month for EVERYTHING as long as she just cleaned up after herself and helped us clean because we were both working so much. It was one thing after another with her. Her phone bill was outrageously expensive, she had to leave work early because she had migraines all the time, her car insurance went up after her accident; so she didn't have rent. The finally straw was when I found out she was trying to hook her best friend up with my boyfriend at the time, while we were all living together. I moved out for about a month, but I knew it wouldn't last, and as soon as I moved back I kicked her ass out and said good riddance.

This last time, though, was the straw: I told my boyfriend I didn't want any roommates when we moved into our new apartment. While I was in the hospital in April, he took it upon himself to move his brother Robert in because his wife kicked him out. He never asked me, he just did it. That made me unhappy. My boyfriend never asked him for rent or money for food, and he stayed there for a month and a half for FREE. Robert never offered, either. When we began looking at new apartments, I didn't want to move into the ones he liked because they were too far from my job and were way more expensive despite the fact that they are old. I relented and said, "Fine, we can get the one bedroom there for now." Next thing I know, he's informing me we're getting the two bedroom and Robert is moving in with us.

I about hit the roof. I gave him a chance, though, and maybe it was because I thought the worst to begin with, but it didn't work. Robert had told us he was getting a divorce, they just had to sign the papers. His wife is a drama queen, to say the least. They were constantly screaming on the phone and she was calling the cops on him every other day to report her car stolen, despite the fact that his name was on the title and registration. He brought her over here, along with his two year old, several times, and it was chaos. They had no control over their kid. Chris and I have two rabbits that are house trained and they are free to run around. Julien, their kid, was afraid of them, and kept screaming and crying until we put them away. Then he would hit their cage with all of his toys, scaring the poor rabbits to death. Neither parent told him to stop, so I took it upon myself and took his toys away, explaining to him why he can't do that. Apparently the wife was pissed about that, but this is my apartment, lady, not yours.

Soon after, she began bringing her stuff over, and they were staying the night. At the time I was getting up at 5 AM to open the store I worked at, and Julien would be screaming and crying all night because he didn't want to go to bed. I finally told Chris he had to tell Robert they can't stay there and most definitely were not moving in.

After that, the wife refused to come over and refused to let Robert have Julien over because she didn't feel comfortable. This whole time Robert was lying to us about getting a divorce; his sister-in-law kicked him out because he was immature and didn't take responsibility for anything, apparently, and wanted her sister out, too. Since they had broken their lease and owed their last apartment over $3000 in rent, they couldn't find another place to live, so they were trying to get Chris to let them live here!

Chris wasn't having that, either, so Robert didn't have his wife or kid over anymore. Suddenly the divorce was back on. He was home more often, and he tends to get up early. He started waking up Chris and I on our days off at the ass crack of dawn, and would come right into our bedroom without knocking. He didn't help clean at all. He never offered to help pay for his portion of food.

The final straw was when he started telling Chris that he couldn't believe Chris was choosing a "stupid bitch" over his brother. Chris had agreed with me on everything, after I told him I wasn't offering to feed Robert dinner anymore and I wanted him to do his shopping separately. He blamed the fact that his wife didn't want to come over anymore on me, saying I made her feel uncomfortable. I'm sure I did, but I wasn't about to let someone else run my apartment. I would plan dinners for Chris and I only to come home to her in the kitchen, making dinner with my own food for her family, too. I wasn't about to let it happen.

I told Robert myself that he was disrespectful and that he needed to grow up. Chris and I didn't expect much from him except to do his part in cleaning and to be respectful when we were home. He ended up moving out close to the end of the month without notice, therefore leaving us with a two bedroom we can't afford on our own and his part of the bills.

From here on out, I will never have another roommate. It makes me sad, because I still dream of having that retro apartment with blow up furniture, sans blow up furniture. But what fun would it be if I don't have the perfect live-in partner?

It makes me wonder if anyone else has better horror stories of roommates.

In Time

It came to my attention that whenever I switch pedals in life, my dreams start featuring my least favorite character:

My ex.

No matter what is going on with my life at the time, for some reason, my brain is triggered and brings him up in my dreams, whether in the leading role or as an extra. I'm not sure why this is, except that I'm stressed, and he was always a source of frustration in my life when we were together.

I'm sure there are other people that have certain things that come up in dreams frequently that wish didn't: the mother-in-law (might as well be Freddy Krueger), that bad speech we gave in high school (sans clothes), or the wolf that attacks all their children. I don't have a mother-in-law, I never gave a bad speech, and I don't have children (although I have had dreams about being attacked by wolves). The only thing, apparently, that truly brings me a great amount of stress is my ex showing back up in my life. I suppose this is natural.

Especially when the only time I was ever able to get my life together was WITHOUT him in my life.

The sequence of the dreams usually follows the same outline: I'm doing something normal, I'm with a group of people, then suddenly he comes barging in to bring up the past. Maybe this means I need closure. I never really had that with him. We were together three years, then on and off again for another year after that, and then suddenly, I never heard from him again. That was it. There was no "going our separate ways" speech or that teary good-bye that breaks your heart still, years later.

When my life starts to spiral out of control, I think it (my brain) is reminded of when I was with him and how out of control it was then. From there on, it reminds me of him every time I think about it. Maybe it is telling me, "Get your shit together before you end up like that mess you were then." Or maybe I'm still subconsciously yearning for the closure I never had with him.

Does anyone else have these sorts of dreams?