Boys will be Boys

Boyfriend and I broke up.


Sort of.


He was supposed to graduate from college this month. Keep in mind he's been in school for five years. His parents (who are paying for his education) told him that he needed to graduate or else ("else" being cut off from the financial tit). So, he tried to take on 22 credits. Actually, I was impressed. He managed to juggle those classes all the way up until late March, early April. I didn't honestly think he had it in him. But throughout that whole ordeal he didn't mention what he wanted post graduation. I kept asking, and I kept getting vague answers or no answers at all. He said the reason he never wanted to talk about it was because I always had a hostile tone. I told him the only reason I had a hostile tone was because he never wanted to talk about it.


Anyway, during one argument, it came out that he wasn't graduating. Of course, I was pissed. Why didn't I know ahead of time? I had taken off days from work and had started to plan coming to see him. I was even trying to prepare myself for dealing with his family. "This is just what I mean," I told him. "You never tell me what's going on with you--what your plans are." My mom suggested he was probably embarrassed to tell me. But still.


So he packed and went down to stay with his parents for a few weeks before coming back to his school and taking the one class he had to drop so he could get his diploma. Fine. I asked him if he would be working during those few weeks, and at first he was "Oh, yeah yeah, I'm going to go get a temp job." This turned into a half ass attempt to find a temp job, clearly a ploy just to keep me happy. But I was sick of not knowing when I was going to see him because he never had any money, and not knowing if this was going to continue for the rest of our relationship. He doesn't seem to have any drive to do anything. He has these goals, but no motivation to make them happy. Boyfriend is completely okay with just having things fall into his lap.


And I wasn't having it. I called him up a couple of weeks ago, and just let my heart sing. I told him I wanted a break, which at first he said 'no' to. However, once he realized I wasn't backing down this time, he said that was fine. And I told him that I didn't know if we could have a future together because he's not responsible, and okay with that. "I need someone that I can rely on," I said, "and that I know I can build a future with."


He admitted that he understood he had been in the wrong to keep me out of knowing what his plans were, and that he needed "to do more on his part". He also said that he was willing to do whatever it took to keep me in his life. I reminded him that he's sang this song before, just not as loudly, and that whenever it came time for him to get a job, something always came up. I didn't trust him anymore and I was questioning whether we had the same ideas about our future--maybe we're incompatible.


For the last week, he's been sounding miserable on the phone--but I'm not giving in. I told him I needed to see improvement on his part in the form of concrete actions (getting a job or some means of money and making plans to see each other on our own time) before we moved any further. And since then he's been all talk about our "future" (kids, living together, etc.). Hmph. I've never been one of those young women who's ideal future is kids and calling someone 'husband'. I'm more career bound. So that shit isn't softening me up at all.


We'll see what happens. Right now I'm letting things ride out. I've gotten advice from all sides--my parents say I should drop him and so does a friend of mine. Another friend says I should give him another chance only if he shows his willing to move up and on to better things. And yet another friend says all men are dogs. Listening to everyone is too confusing, and I feel kind of cold towards the whole thing, so I'm going to see where the cards fall.

To Friend or Not To Friend

I think I'm needy. Yep. Just a needy ass person. I always feel like I should be around someone, having a conversation or just chilling out. But it's not my fault--really. My "best friend" is extremely busy and has her own circle of friends, so she's stretched pretty thin. My "friends" also have their own circle of friends and are pretty involved with their finals right now. And my "acquaintances"....well, who the hell wants to hang out with them?


Maybe my problem is I don't have my own circle of friends. I have random friends, one here and one there. But none of them are consistent. And Boyfriend is in a different part of the country always. So he's no help. I guess--if I can sound like a whiny, needy person right now--what I need is 2 or 3 girlfriends, who we are all equal friends with that I can chat with on a daily basis and plan things with ("Hey, what are you doing later?" or "What's up this weekend?"). Then I'd be satisfied. But the question is: How does one gain a "circle" of friends? Is it pure luck (you all just happen live in the same apartment building, or have multiple courses together, or work together all the time) or do people actually work at building one?


And furthermore, what the hell is happening to me? I've never been a needy person. Hell, I'm in a 3-year long distance relationship. I was alway, always been a loner. Yes it's possible to change, but 180 degrees? Geesh. It's like social menopause. I suppose I could approach friendship like dating. Try different people out, and nix the bad ones. But that's how drama happens. And then you end up wanting nothing more than to sit in on a Saturday night with a bowl of popcorn and Family Guy not answering your phone.


Eh. I'll figure out something sooner or later.

The "Perks" of Having Breasts....

...are too many to name. Now that the winter season is over and it's time for women and men alike to start showing skin, my twin joys have been getting more and more attention from the opposite sex. It's not like I even attempt to draw attention though--honestly. I'll wear modest shirts, that don't expose more than my collar bone (just like mother taught me), and those two divas will just grab a man's eye path. But I've discovered something:


When in a man's world, it's better to walk softly and carry big tits.


They're usually in the way--my breasts, not men. Well, maybe men too. Seriously, they're flubbing around when you're working, complaining when you're in a bra for 12 hours....they're two lives of their own. However, they're here. And so I might as well come to terms with them.


In the last 24 hours I've received more free food than I care to share. Just from wearing a shirt that shows cleavage. For a broke college student, this is a golden find. Men are polite for no particular reason. I can be a spoiled brat and get along just fine--they'll look the other way (or rather down).

So does this mean I'm slutty? The girl who wears sweaters and jeans in the summer, has only had one partner in her lifetime (and is still with him) and prefers watching Ugly Betty than casual dating? To women, yes. Because I'm exploiting what I've become aware many women don't have. And that means war in Woman Land. But, a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do. If this means letting the goods get a little air every now and then, well so be it. I'm off to eat my free lunch....

I'm back....for good

Yep, I'm back. I've got a new job, so in a few short weeks I won't be dealing with the self-absorbed little freaks that consider themselves adults. I'll be dealing with (hopefully) more mature, considerate and intelligent adults who are actually paying bills and having a meaningful life.


Happy? Yes.


Bitter? Hell yes.


But I digress. I'm back for good. Now that I won't have the strict rules hanging over my head, I can write freely again. Please believe I enjoyed it. I'm not going to take up a whole blog filling you in on the Boyfriend, his pyschotic parents, my parents and all that jazz. That's too boring for even I to write. Instead, let's talk sex.

Penises, more specifically. After watching a glorious season of Sex and the City, I decided I wasn't sexually experienced enough. I didn't know a thing about penises. I mean, I know they come in different sizes, they hang differently, different colors, etc. But I've only seen two in my life. One of those penises now currently enjoys other penises, and the other's is Boyfriend's. So, what exactly am I missing out on? Are there actually bigger penises (in real life, not pornos) that surpass Boyfriend?


I did what any normal woman alone on a Saturday night would do. I Googled it. And came across this. On page 1, I was amused and satisfied. On page 2, I was disturbed. By page 3, I was seriously considering being a lesbian. Yuck. I, for one, have always scoffed at women who complain about penises being ugly....one can't help but wonder, what the hell do you think your vagina looks like? But, I was too through after seeing all of that dick. There's not enough wine in the world....

Missing my blogging

There will be a time, I guarantee, where I will be able to blog freely. Of course, this would require that I am not a RA... so..... yeah. Boo.

Standing Ground

Blah. There comes a time when you live in a little 4 by 4 dorm room and you realize you can't find anything important because your floor is covered with clothes, bottles of water, important papers, etc. that you might want to vacuum.

Time for another tale.


If you look over to the right you'll see that I added two new people: one is my mentor, who we'll call Workaholic, and my newest good friend who shall be named Twin (we're so much alike its scary). Just so that you folks will know what the hell I'm babbling about.


Once upon a time I had a vision--to have a small, quaint book club on campus for students, so that they could relax (you know, I'm always thinking about other people....). I didn't know shit about starting an org and the ends and outs with dealing with the corrupt student gov, so Workaholic stepped in and took me under my wing. Under her tutelage, I learned how to apply for grants, she secured me an office, etc. And of course, I named her vice president of my org.

After that, I set about applying for small grants, making plans to advertise, creating a website for the org, getting furniture for our office (she's sharing the office as well), picking up keys, reminding her of deadlines, etc.

Last week, before I left for my vacay, we sat down and decided that we would go up to the student government for money to go to the National Black Book Conference in Atlanta next fall. She gave me examples of what to fill out, pretty much handed me all the information and told me to make sure to get in by the deadline, Friday. My book club is multicultural. And after calculating the costs for the trip, $3000, I rethought asking for the money and decided (without letting her know) that I would wait until next year when we had actual members (I haven't even had the chance or funds to start advertising) to find a book club conference that wasn't limited to just one genre of books and try to attend that.

Today she sent me an IM asking if I turned in the papers, and I told her no, and explained why. Understandably, she was pissed and in a roundabout way accused me of being scared to ask for funding which was coming from our money anyway. I apologized and promised to find a more suitable conference. She kind of just stopped IMing me, her own way of ignoring me. At first, I felt guilty but justified. I mean, hell, I am the President of the org. Then after talking the situation over with Mom I felt guilty and immature. However, I'm definitely NOT looking forward to apologizing to her in her face. To be completely honest, she kind of scares me.

Anywho, Till next time...

Updates?

Isn't there a fine line between being an artist and being an idiot? There's gotta be. Or else, I'm screwed.

It's been awhile, folks. And as usual, I have a reason for it--not knowing what I can and can't write about. My last post was before I found out about FERPA (The Family Education Rights and Privacy Act) and how my bosses surf the net for incriminating blogs. I can't even pretend that I'm bad ass--that scared the shit out of me. How the hell was I going to blog when my life was consumed by idiot residents and their shenanigans?


From my last post until about last week, I was a RA. Not a person, a human being with feelings, emotions, a need to vent--I was (and still am) owned by University Housing. When they tell you that being a RA is basically being in a fishbowl, they are NOT kidding. Everywhere I went, residents were watching, waiting for me to fuck up, etc. My bosses were everywhere because they live in the dorms, too. And apparently, there is a secret world in RA land where RAs and security date each other, become bestest friends, worst enemies, and are practically each others lives for the next 1-3 years. I don't know about y'all, but I was NOT having that shit.


No, I didn't quit. But I did have to accomplish putting the fear of God into the hearts of my rezs (residents), programming for the little fuckers, attending shit loads of meetings, classes, filming, battling gossip that was stemming from some of my insecure coworkers, dealing with not having enough time suddenly for my family, getting shit together for my book club (a new organization here on campus) that I'm the president of, and dealing with Boyfriend. Needless to say I didn't have time to breathe, sleep and sometimes, bathe.


But, I press on. I was in hyperdrive for three months, and then Boyfriend bought me a ticket to come see him for his homecoming. I went, did the usual, and came back. Now I'm trying to work myself back up in a frenzy again so that I can finish out the next 6 weeks. And it ain't happenin. I came back today to find my decorations that I put up ripped down, along with fliers and a bulletin board I worked semi-hard on. The little shit eaters had moved furniture, and probably partied it up once they realized I wasn't around. I was pissed off for about 15 minutes and then I went into a depressed mode. I didn't realize post-vacay made you so damned lazy.


So, what do you do when you're in charge of 72 asswhipes and their social development skills, a blossoming student org, filming for portfolio and editing another for the same purpose (which are both due the 2nd week of December), working on a required conceptual studies project (don't ask....), and trying to maintain your relationships with the people you love?


You ditch two classes, say "Fuck it" for your To Do list for today, crawl into bed, eat a bag of M&Ms, Funyuns, and slurp down tons of soda.

Trust me, I have more to talk about: my mentor/vice prez of my org is pissed off at me right now, the Saved Sinners have been in trouble with the law, Boyfriend and I are forever dealing with issues, and I'm constipated. Yup.

Till next time...