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...
Monday, October 22, 2007
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...
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...
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Life as a Resident Assistant...
....now means I have no life at all.
That's right.
I'm back. Sorry it took me so long guys, but working two jobs this summer took a lot of out of me (I think it was because of all the emotional situations) and I really wasn't in the mood to come home and recap my sucky life via blogging. No offense.
Anyway, there haven't really been to many things going on to do an extensive update, but I WILL say that Boyfriend and I are still together, I'm back at school now (2 weeks early) and as the students come filing in so will more stories. After all, this is called "The Sophomore Chronicles". It's kind of based around school.
But picking back up on the title....yep, I'm a Resident Assistant. Free room and board, a monthly stipend and a shit load of stress. I get to clean up after folks who are experiencing all the wonderful aspects of living away from Mommy and Daddy, scold those who break Housing policies, become a social leper in my current (small) circle of friends because I'm now the enforcer, and pretty much hate life in general. I know I sound depressing, but that's because the situation is depressing. And the only reason I'm doing it is because I'm dead broke and saving $8000 on student loans this year seemed like a grand idea.
My staff (the people who are RAs with me) are pretty cool (so far) but I have a feeling that as time goes on the drama will definitely rear its ugly head. It always does. Which is good for you. Because then you'll have something entertaining to read while you're at work.
I played some volleyball today with my staff just to show that I was part of the "team" and it was actually pretty fun. Huh. I'm definitely NOT the sports type at all, but I was able to hit the ball a couple of times. And I got to bat my eyelashes at some of my cute coworkers.
One thing that is going to be interesting to blog about is my female coworkers and their obsession with weight. Going to breakfast, lunch or anything that even remotely has to do with the digestive system is great--its like watching the Discovery Channel. They are COMPLETELY scared of a pound or two, which in my humble opinion, would do them good. They always stare at me when I eat, which is an odd combination of amusing and insulting. Thank God Boyfriend prefers a little meat on me or else I'd probably join the ranks of the bulimic.
Alright, no point in wasting a good post rattling on about what I'll be posting about in the future, I just wanted to stop in and let everyone know I'm not dead. Or in jail.
Till next time...
That's right.
I'm back. Sorry it took me so long guys, but working two jobs this summer took a lot of out of me (I think it was because of all the emotional situations) and I really wasn't in the mood to come home and recap my sucky life via blogging. No offense.
Anyway, there haven't really been to many things going on to do an extensive update, but I WILL say that Boyfriend and I are still together, I'm back at school now (2 weeks early) and as the students come filing in so will more stories. After all, this is called "The Sophomore Chronicles". It's kind of based around school.
But picking back up on the title....yep, I'm a Resident Assistant. Free room and board, a monthly stipend and a shit load of stress. I get to clean up after folks who are experiencing all the wonderful aspects of living away from Mommy and Daddy, scold those who break Housing policies, become a social leper in my current (small) circle of friends because I'm now the enforcer, and pretty much hate life in general. I know I sound depressing, but that's because the situation is depressing. And the only reason I'm doing it is because I'm dead broke and saving $8000 on student loans this year seemed like a grand idea.
My staff (the people who are RAs with me) are pretty cool (so far) but I have a feeling that as time goes on the drama will definitely rear its ugly head. It always does. Which is good for you. Because then you'll have something entertaining to read while you're at work.
I played some volleyball today with my staff just to show that I was part of the "team" and it was actually pretty fun. Huh. I'm definitely NOT the sports type at all, but I was able to hit the ball a couple of times. And I got to bat my eyelashes at some of my cute coworkers.
One thing that is going to be interesting to blog about is my female coworkers and their obsession with weight. Going to breakfast, lunch or anything that even remotely has to do with the digestive system is great--its like watching the Discovery Channel. They are COMPLETELY scared of a pound or two, which in my humble opinion, would do them good. They always stare at me when I eat, which is an odd combination of amusing and insulting. Thank God Boyfriend prefers a little meat on me or else I'd probably join the ranks of the bulimic.
Alright, no point in wasting a good post rattling on about what I'll be posting about in the future, I just wanted to stop in and let everyone know I'm not dead. Or in jail.
Till next time...
Monday, July 2, 2007
The fight, pt. 2
Okay, click here for the link to pt. 1.
Note: Since it's been so long, I'm just going to post the Cliffnotes version...
I don't know how I finished work. I swam through it miraculously. When I made it home, I got myself together, and called him. Because it's been a while, I don't remember what our conversation went like, but the general idea idea was that he was frustrated because I was treating him like a son, and not like a boyfriend, and of course, I was frustrated because I felt like I couldn't trust him with ANYTHING that had a smidge of responsibility! We hashed it out for a while before coming to a truce:
Me: Do you think you could possibly be a little more responsible next time?
Boyfriend: Yeah, if you think you could not become my mother all the time....
Me (hesitantly): Yeah...I guess.....
Okay, okay, no one ever said I wasn't a control freak. I'm the eldest of three kids in my family and I always had a shit load of responsibility. Anyway, we got off the phone and I ran to my closest advisor when Boyfriend was acting an ass....my mother. Surprisingly, she agreed with him.
"CC," she sighed, "you can't mother him. He already has a mother, and he can't stand her! And here he is dating this girl that he's crazy about, and she's turning into his mother! You can drive a person away like that. You're going to have to trust him. Now, if you say, 'Boyfriend, could you do x-y-z' and he agrees and doesn't do it, then you can say 'okay, enough is enough' and start looking for someone else. But if he hasn't messed up yet, you can't blame him."
"Well, he did say that I can force him to do things on my time," I answered thoughtfully.
"Right," she agreed, "you can't. You're a control freak, we know this, but you're going to have to learn how to trust him and give him breathing room. Boyfriend is.....he grew up differently than you. He's trying to find his own way in becoming a young man and you've got to remember that."
Huh. As usual, good advice. About a week after we fought, he bought a plane ticket and I paid for the connecting bus tickets. I was happy, he was happy, and (surprise, surprise) the fighting stopped. But it didn't come to a sugary stop, you know, like one day I'm ready to kill him and the next I'm lovey-dovey....there were awkward days in between, no doubt. And we had a few mini-arguments in between that as well. But all in all, we're back on civil speaking terms with each other and our stress levels have dropped. So all is well.
Okay, I'm off to write an update post....you guys deserve it.
Note: Since it's been so long, I'm just going to post the Cliffnotes version...
I don't know how I finished work. I swam through it miraculously. When I made it home, I got myself together, and called him. Because it's been a while, I don't remember what our conversation went like, but the general idea idea was that he was frustrated because I was treating him like a son, and not like a boyfriend, and of course, I was frustrated because I felt like I couldn't trust him with ANYTHING that had a smidge of responsibility! We hashed it out for a while before coming to a truce:
Me: Do you think you could possibly be a little more responsible next time?
Boyfriend: Yeah, if you think you could not become my mother all the time....
Me (hesitantly): Yeah...I guess.....
Okay, okay, no one ever said I wasn't a control freak. I'm the eldest of three kids in my family and I always had a shit load of responsibility. Anyway, we got off the phone and I ran to my closest advisor when Boyfriend was acting an ass....my mother. Surprisingly, she agreed with him.
"CC," she sighed, "you can't mother him. He already has a mother, and he can't stand her! And here he is dating this girl that he's crazy about, and she's turning into his mother! You can drive a person away like that. You're going to have to trust him. Now, if you say, 'Boyfriend, could you do x-y-z' and he agrees and doesn't do it, then you can say 'okay, enough is enough' and start looking for someone else. But if he hasn't messed up yet, you can't blame him."
"Well, he did say that I can force him to do things on my time," I answered thoughtfully.
"Right," she agreed, "you can't. You're a control freak, we know this, but you're going to have to learn how to trust him and give him breathing room. Boyfriend is.....he grew up differently than you. He's trying to find his own way in becoming a young man and you've got to remember that."
Huh. As usual, good advice. About a week after we fought, he bought a plane ticket and I paid for the connecting bus tickets. I was happy, he was happy, and (surprise, surprise) the fighting stopped. But it didn't come to a sugary stop, you know, like one day I'm ready to kill him and the next I'm lovey-dovey....there were awkward days in between, no doubt. And we had a few mini-arguments in between that as well. But all in all, we're back on civil speaking terms with each other and our stress levels have dropped. So all is well.
Okay, I'm off to write an update post....you guys deserve it.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
The fight, pt. 1
Huh. I have a fight that happens to be the breaking point in my relationship, post about it, and receive some of the best advice I've had in a long time. Duly noted, peeps.
Anyway, I bet you're wondering what happened after that argument. Here we go:
After that night, I went to bed stunned. It was weird, I felt....cold, empty. I was contemplating breaking up with the supposed love of my life and I didn't feel much of anything. If there was something swimming around underneath the surface it was relief--which confused the hell out of me. Waking up and going to work was like...a dream. I kind of floated around my family, got into my car and made it work. Still no emotion. Sitting out in the parking lot, I called Boyfriend since he was clearly waiting until I made the first move. We made pleasant, awkward talk that happens when you know something's on the horizon. Finally, I took a deep breath and plunged in.
Me: Boyfriend, I've been thinking about last night and--
Boyfriend: --yes?
Me: --I just think that last night was the last straw. I didn't like what was said. You know, I just...don't know about...(insert me beginning to tear up)....what's going on with us and....we've been arguing a lot and you've been yelling a lot....
By now I was babbling and crying, and somewhere along my 10 minute spiel about how our relationship went wrong he understood what I was talking about.
Boyfriend: Well you just constantly talk to me like I haven't been trying my best. I just feel like my best isn't good enough for you, no matter what I do it isn't good enough!
Me: I know, and that's my problem. And you know, with school coming up and you getting ready to graduate next year and me being an RA on top of all of my other activities and me pledging for a sorority in the spring, I just feel like I need someone strong to be there....and....not yell at me when we have a decision to make and they don't want to be bothered with it because I can't...won't...take it and I just don't think it's fair...
Boyfriend: (long pause) Then what do you want to do?
Me (taking multiple deep breaths before saying) I think....we should...take a break.
Readers, that was the hardest thing I've ever had to say. Ever. I may not have felt any emotions the night before, but as I said that it felt like some type of knife had went through me. What was I saying? Was I breaking up with him?
Boyfriend: So you're breaking up with me.
Me: No! I'm just asking to take a break...just for the summer...
Boyfriend: Bullshit! That's what people say when they want to break up!
Me: Boyfriend, please!
Boyfriend: No, you know what? Fine. Fine. You want to break up, let's break up! Okay? Fine. We're done. I don't need this....
And there was the infamous click of him hanging up on me. By this time I had about 2 minutes to get my brown ass into the building and clock in, so I went back into stunned mode, wiped my eyes, got out of the car and went in.
Inside my manager and co-worker were standing behind the desk talking (something they do often). They greeted me and I put on a false, plastic smile, returning the favor. After settling in, I tuned in to what they were gossiping about. Ironically, they were talking about having a shitty day.
Manager: Yeah, so I got to the job that I'm interviewing for, 30 minutes early, and they never show!
Me: What?
Manager: Yep, and then an hour after I had been there, they called wondering where I was! I was like, you know what? Screw this....
Co-worker: Yeah, I'm just...(throws up her hands)...not having a good day in general.
Me: Well, you know what? I just broke up with my boyfriend.
Coworker and Manager: (stunned silence)
Me: Yep. Of 2 years. Just now. In the parking lot. So I win.
I attached a fake smile to my face again and looked at the gaped mouths.
Manager: Wow.
Co-worker: That sucks.
Manager: Are you okay?
Me: Yep. I'm fine.
I vented to them for a while, telling them what a bastard he was, how sorry he was, how sick he made me, etc. They agreed that I should hate him, I was wasting my time, and so forth. As I was taking a breath my phone rang. It was Boyfriend.
Boyfriend: Hey.
Me (with manager looking at me): Hey.
Boyfriend: I'm sorry.
Me: Me too.
Boyfriend: I shouldn't have said that.
Me: I know. Look, can we finish this later? I'm on the clock and I really shouldn't be on the phone....
Boyfriend (sounding relieved that I still wanted to talk to him): Yeah...
About halfway through my shift, I say, "Wow, I just...I'm sorry. I just feel like I'm moving through water."
Manager: Oh, God, you're not a crier are you?
Me: Nah. Do I look like the type to cry?
Manager (obviously relieved): Nope. Just making sure.
Wow. This post is gaining length. Tell you the rest tomorrow.
Anyway, I bet you're wondering what happened after that argument. Here we go:
After that night, I went to bed stunned. It was weird, I felt....cold, empty. I was contemplating breaking up with the supposed love of my life and I didn't feel much of anything. If there was something swimming around underneath the surface it was relief--which confused the hell out of me. Waking up and going to work was like...a dream. I kind of floated around my family, got into my car and made it work. Still no emotion. Sitting out in the parking lot, I called Boyfriend since he was clearly waiting until I made the first move. We made pleasant, awkward talk that happens when you know something's on the horizon. Finally, I took a deep breath and plunged in.
Me: Boyfriend, I've been thinking about last night and--
Boyfriend: --yes?
Me: --I just think that last night was the last straw. I didn't like what was said. You know, I just...don't know about...(insert me beginning to tear up)....what's going on with us and....we've been arguing a lot and you've been yelling a lot....
By now I was babbling and crying, and somewhere along my 10 minute spiel about how our relationship went wrong he understood what I was talking about.
Boyfriend: Well you just constantly talk to me like I haven't been trying my best. I just feel like my best isn't good enough for you, no matter what I do it isn't good enough!
Me: I know, and that's my problem. And you know, with school coming up and you getting ready to graduate next year and me being an RA on top of all of my other activities and me pledging for a sorority in the spring, I just feel like I need someone strong to be there....and....not yell at me when we have a decision to make and they don't want to be bothered with it because I can't...won't...take it and I just don't think it's fair...
Boyfriend: (long pause) Then what do you want to do?
Me (taking multiple deep breaths before saying) I think....we should...take a break.
Readers, that was the hardest thing I've ever had to say. Ever. I may not have felt any emotions the night before, but as I said that it felt like some type of knife had went through me. What was I saying? Was I breaking up with him?
Boyfriend: So you're breaking up with me.
Me: No! I'm just asking to take a break...just for the summer...
Boyfriend: Bullshit! That's what people say when they want to break up!
Me: Boyfriend, please!
Boyfriend: No, you know what? Fine. Fine. You want to break up, let's break up! Okay? Fine. We're done. I don't need this....
And there was the infamous click of him hanging up on me. By this time I had about 2 minutes to get my brown ass into the building and clock in, so I went back into stunned mode, wiped my eyes, got out of the car and went in.
Inside my manager and co-worker were standing behind the desk talking (something they do often). They greeted me and I put on a false, plastic smile, returning the favor. After settling in, I tuned in to what they were gossiping about. Ironically, they were talking about having a shitty day.
Manager: Yeah, so I got to the job that I'm interviewing for, 30 minutes early, and they never show!
Me: What?
Manager: Yep, and then an hour after I had been there, they called wondering where I was! I was like, you know what? Screw this....
Co-worker: Yeah, I'm just...(throws up her hands)...not having a good day in general.
Me: Well, you know what? I just broke up with my boyfriend.
Coworker and Manager: (stunned silence)
Me: Yep. Of 2 years. Just now. In the parking lot. So I win.
I attached a fake smile to my face again and looked at the gaped mouths.
Manager: Wow.
Co-worker: That sucks.
Manager: Are you okay?
Me: Yep. I'm fine.
I vented to them for a while, telling them what a bastard he was, how sorry he was, how sick he made me, etc. They agreed that I should hate him, I was wasting my time, and so forth. As I was taking a breath my phone rang. It was Boyfriend.
Boyfriend: Hey.
Me (with manager looking at me): Hey.
Boyfriend: I'm sorry.
Me: Me too.
Boyfriend: I shouldn't have said that.
Me: I know. Look, can we finish this later? I'm on the clock and I really shouldn't be on the phone....
Boyfriend (sounding relieved that I still wanted to talk to him): Yeah...
About halfway through my shift, I say, "Wow, I just...I'm sorry. I just feel like I'm moving through water."
Manager: Oh, God, you're not a crier are you?
Me: Nah. Do I look like the type to cry?
Manager (obviously relieved): Nope. Just making sure.
Wow. This post is gaining length. Tell you the rest tomorrow.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Nope not dead...in hiding...
Nah. I'm not dead. Just hiding out from everyone, not really wanting to deal with everything. Yuck. But I guess bloggerland is calling to me because I'll be posting soon.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Such is love....
Yesterday I worked a 12 hour shift, from 9 a.m. till 10 p.m. thanks to me getting my second job. No big, though, I need the money and my family was getting on my nerves. We're leaving tomorrow for our family reunion, and as some of you may recall, I was also supposed to be seeing Boyfriend along the way. The plan was from to attend the family reunion from Thursday to Sunday, and then Sunday evening leave out to Indiana to see him. I would be taking 4 days of vacation ON TOP of the family reunion time to be with him. His only task? To get my ticket. I should've known.
The first problem arose when he miscalculated his money and realized he didn't have enough to buy the plane ticket. We argued about that for a while and for a minute, I refused to entertain the thought of taking the Greyhound back home, a 10+ hour ride. After bitching to my mother about it, she shook her head and chuckled, "Umph! You mean he's going to take his whole paycheck in order to pay for a one-way ticket for you? What a schmuck...". I realized I was being selfish, and if I really wanted to see him, I could make the sacrifice of taking the bus.
The second problem reared its ugly head after he opened his bank account, and was told it would be 10-14 business days before he would be able to receive his credit card along with the precious 3 number security code on the back. You know...the one that's needed to purchase anything online? Yeah. By the time the mailman arrived with that, it would be too late to by any ticket... and so I vented my frustration to him and his fallback answer was shouting at me, "I'm doing all I can!!!"
We pushed that problem aside when I repeatedly asked him to check the Greyhound site for ticket prices and what not, so that I could arrange for someone to pick me up. Today's Wednesday, and he's the king of procrastination, but me not knowing how I'm going to get home was not settling well with me.
Here's a little backstory:
Boyfriend has very minimum responsibility. You know this already. His parents have taken care of everything for him since creation, and now that he's a grown man, he still isn't motivated to do something until his mother calls bitching and complaining. Then he in turn bitches about being bitched at and reluctantly does it. Some man, huh? Remember, I had to bitch at him to get a job so that he could have money to travel this summer. And when he was given responsibility, to go to class, he ended up flunking out of the same class--twice and being kicked out of his music school.
What's funny about Boyfriend is that he thinks he's doing something. No, really! And that when people bitch at him the WHOLE WORLD must be against him, because he's doing everything in his sheer will power to do it right. He honestly told me a while ago that he was scouting a $1500 monitor for his computer--to play his game with. When I told him that was stupid, why not save that and buy a little car?, he reacted like that was a foreign concept. Having the ability to travel at will as opposed to sitting on your butt and playing your computer game? Easy choice, hands down. The computer game will obviously win every time.
Back to the present:
Last night, after making it home, I called him.
Boyfriend: Hello?
Me: Hey, how are you?
Boyfriend: Good... (I hear him move away from the phone to speak into his computer's mic, on his game no doubt)
I try to make conversation, and my head ends up getting bit off.
Me: What's your problem?!
Boyfriend: Nothing! I'm in p-v-p zone... (person versus person...apparently a very, very important zone in the game)
Me (sarcastically): Well, sorry to be getting in the way...
Boyfriend (distracted): What? Look, I don't need this attitude....
Me: (snapping) Do you just want me to call you back later?
Boyfriend: Whatever....yeah, that's fine.
Me: Fine, I'll call you tomorrow.
Boyfriend: Fine.
We slam the phone on each other. Y'all, I just worked a fucking 12-hour day!! What happened to, "Hey baby, how was your day? How you feeling?" I ended up calling back, of course, later on that night, and that's when we had the Greyhound fight. Here's the kicker: He wants me to take a bus from Indiana back home, arriving here approximately 5:30 in the morning.
"Boyfriend, I can't do that."
"YES YOU CAN!!!"
"No I can't! Who's going to come pick me up from the station at 5 in the morning? My parent's won't do that, they have to be at work at 8!"
"WELL, I'M TELLING YOU THAT'S AN OPTION AND YOU'RE REFUSING TO DO IT--"
"Honey, I'm a 20-year-old woman, and I don't have any business traveling that late a night...on the Greyhound...by myself...."
"I'M DOING THE BEST I CAN!! UGH!" Right, I'm stressing him out so bad...
"I can't travel like that! I wouldn't have a way to get home..."
"You could take a cab...."
"Are you fucking nuts? Taking a cab at 5:30 in the morning?"
"LOOK, I'VE TRIED THE BEST I CAN AND YOU HAVE OPTIONS AND YOU DON'T WANT TO TAKE THEM SO THAT'S IT. JUST DON'T COME! JUST DON'T COME THEN!"
(softly) "Well it looks like I'm not going to be able to..."
"FINE! DON'T COME! I'M GOING TO BED!!" (pause) "GOODNIGHT!!!"
(another pause...even softer) "Goodnight honey." And he slams the phone.
I was too stunned to even cry. I just looked at the phone for a few minutes and talked myself into calming down and going to sleep.
I think I'm fed up. No, no, I was fed up a while ago. Now I think I'm beyond that point. I feel trapped--I know he's not going to change, I sometimes wonder if there's someone out there who would be able to step up to the plate, but I can't leave him. Or rather, I'm scared to. Every time I try to talk to him about what's bothering me--his lack of will to be responsible (and a man), his immaturity, and his not seeing anything wrong with it, he jumps on the defense and it's like talking to a 2 year old with his fingers in his ear.
I don't know what to do....I'm open to suggestions...even from any asshole Anons who are bound to find this post...
The first problem arose when he miscalculated his money and realized he didn't have enough to buy the plane ticket. We argued about that for a while and for a minute, I refused to entertain the thought of taking the Greyhound back home, a 10+ hour ride. After bitching to my mother about it, she shook her head and chuckled, "Umph! You mean he's going to take his whole paycheck in order to pay for a one-way ticket for you? What a schmuck...". I realized I was being selfish, and if I really wanted to see him, I could make the sacrifice of taking the bus.
The second problem reared its ugly head after he opened his bank account, and was told it would be 10-14 business days before he would be able to receive his credit card along with the precious 3 number security code on the back. You know...the one that's needed to purchase anything online? Yeah. By the time the mailman arrived with that, it would be too late to by any ticket... and so I vented my frustration to him and his fallback answer was shouting at me, "I'm doing all I can!!!"
We pushed that problem aside when I repeatedly asked him to check the Greyhound site for ticket prices and what not, so that I could arrange for someone to pick me up. Today's Wednesday, and he's the king of procrastination, but me not knowing how I'm going to get home was not settling well with me.
Here's a little backstory:
Boyfriend has very minimum responsibility. You know this already. His parents have taken care of everything for him since creation, and now that he's a grown man, he still isn't motivated to do something until his mother calls bitching and complaining. Then he in turn bitches about being bitched at and reluctantly does it. Some man, huh? Remember, I had to bitch at him to get a job so that he could have money to travel this summer. And when he was given responsibility, to go to class, he ended up flunking out of the same class--twice and being kicked out of his music school.
What's funny about Boyfriend is that he thinks he's doing something. No, really! And that when people bitch at him the WHOLE WORLD must be against him, because he's doing everything in his sheer will power to do it right. He honestly told me a while ago that he was scouting a $1500 monitor for his computer--to play his game with. When I told him that was stupid, why not save that and buy a little car?, he reacted like that was a foreign concept. Having the ability to travel at will as opposed to sitting on your butt and playing your computer game? Easy choice, hands down. The computer game will obviously win every time.
Back to the present:
Last night, after making it home, I called him.
Boyfriend: Hello?
Me: Hey, how are you?
Boyfriend: Good... (I hear him move away from the phone to speak into his computer's mic, on his game no doubt)
I try to make conversation, and my head ends up getting bit off.
Me: What's your problem?!
Boyfriend: Nothing! I'm in p-v-p zone... (person versus person...apparently a very, very important zone in the game)
Me (sarcastically): Well, sorry to be getting in the way...
Boyfriend (distracted): What? Look, I don't need this attitude....
Me: (snapping) Do you just want me to call you back later?
Boyfriend: Whatever....yeah, that's fine.
Me: Fine, I'll call you tomorrow.
Boyfriend: Fine.
We slam the phone on each other. Y'all, I just worked a fucking 12-hour day!! What happened to, "Hey baby, how was your day? How you feeling?" I ended up calling back, of course, later on that night, and that's when we had the Greyhound fight. Here's the kicker: He wants me to take a bus from Indiana back home, arriving here approximately 5:30 in the morning.
"Boyfriend, I can't do that."
"YES YOU CAN!!!"
"No I can't! Who's going to come pick me up from the station at 5 in the morning? My parent's won't do that, they have to be at work at 8!"
"WELL, I'M TELLING YOU THAT'S AN OPTION AND YOU'RE REFUSING TO DO IT--"
"Honey, I'm a 20-year-old woman, and I don't have any business traveling that late a night...on the Greyhound...by myself...."
"I'M DOING THE BEST I CAN!! UGH!" Right, I'm stressing him out so bad...
"I can't travel like that! I wouldn't have a way to get home..."
"You could take a cab...."
"Are you fucking nuts? Taking a cab at 5:30 in the morning?"
"LOOK, I'VE TRIED THE BEST I CAN AND YOU HAVE OPTIONS AND YOU DON'T WANT TO TAKE THEM SO THAT'S IT. JUST DON'T COME! JUST DON'T COME THEN!"
(softly) "Well it looks like I'm not going to be able to..."
"FINE! DON'T COME! I'M GOING TO BED!!" (pause) "GOODNIGHT!!!"
(another pause...even softer) "Goodnight honey." And he slams the phone.
I was too stunned to even cry. I just looked at the phone for a few minutes and talked myself into calming down and going to sleep.
I think I'm fed up. No, no, I was fed up a while ago. Now I think I'm beyond that point. I feel trapped--I know he's not going to change, I sometimes wonder if there's someone out there who would be able to step up to the plate, but I can't leave him. Or rather, I'm scared to. Every time I try to talk to him about what's bothering me--his lack of will to be responsible (and a man), his immaturity, and his not seeing anything wrong with it, he jumps on the defense and it's like talking to a 2 year old with his fingers in his ear.
I don't know what to do....I'm open to suggestions...even from any asshole Anons who are bound to find this post...
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