I am trying to be calm and cool about this, but I actually had my very first COMMENT on my blog. (Thank you, Sarah P.) I never really expected to get any comments, because I don't write this blog to be funny, or to become famous. I write this blog for me. You see, I have a very bad habit of re-writing history. I am the eternal optimist, and for some reason, my brain goes back and paints the past with a rosy pink hue. When I think back on my life, I do not remember any of the bad...and I only remember the good. This may sound like a good thing. And sometimes it is. But it also makes it very difficult to not keep making the same mistakes over and over again. This blog (and the other one I kept for three years prior to this one) are to make sure if I need to know the truth about the past, I have a place I can come and read about it. But it was pretty cool to get a nice, comforting comment.
2010 is starting off a little dicey, if you must know the truth.
First fun thing: I celebrated the new years in Times Square and saw the ball drop. Very cool. Had fun. Got a great hotel room at a great price. Bus trip was easy. It was cold and rainy, but I survived. Glad I experienced it once in my life, but not going to do it again.
First Not So Fun Thing: Since early December, I was dating Michael the Mess. (Quick review: 42, single-never married- 1 year old baby with the ex-girlfriend who wouldnt let him see baby-living on brother's couch-working as a bouncer at a bar-but extremely hot and good in bed) On Saturday, I invited him to go out and do something fun. He said he would call me by 10am...call came in at 11am. He said he was busy with stuff with his brother and SIL, and would call me when it was through. 11am became 3pm...he called again and said he didn't know when he could be at my place. So I took a long hot bath and in the middle of it, called me to say "I am here at your apartment" WTF? Where was my "I am on my way" phone call? I threw on some clothes and went down to get him. He didn't greet me with an embrace. He seemed really off somehow. I leaned in to get a hug (but really to smell him) and he didn't smell like alcohol...but he always says he has a sore throat and sucks on cough drops all the time (this is a trick that alcoholics use to try to cover their drinking) so who in the hell knows? He was wound up...I could feel the negative energy. He sat on the very end of my bed, and didn't move. For FOUR HOURS he sat there. I tried to get him to come up with me and cuddle, or at least act like he was here to see me, and he declined every time. Said he was hungry, insisted on getting Subway across the street, and then when he returned with sandwiches for both of us, didn't want to eat. Corrected me a few times, made negative comments about my cursing...(I think I said shit or something) and when I tried to be cute and poked him with my finger to get his attention, he said "Hitters raise hitters you know" (WTF? My kids are raised, ass hole) After two movies, he still was sitting at the edge of the bed, far away. So I offered to find another movie we could watch. He said "You didn't make the popcorn you promised..." and then launched into his incredibly boring, self centered monologue about how he likes his popcorn, and how people stare at the bag of popcorn dripping with butter...blah blah blah... I guess my face was not registering the expected level of awe he desired. He said "I hate it when you give me that blank face. I really hate it that I can't read your expression" and for some reason, this really hit me wrong. I mean, come on! He arrives later than expected, doesn't want to go out like I requested, and then sits on the end of my bed, without any contact or greeting, and watches two moves that HE likes for 4 hours, won't eat dinner with me at the same time as I eat my weak-ass sandwich, and THEN he has the nerve to tell me that HE DOESN'T LIKE MY FACIAL EXPRESSIONS????
So I lost it. Totally lost it. Started yelling at him. "Oh, you don't like MY facial expressions? You can't tell what I am thinking? Well let me illuminate you, asshole. I think you are a selfish prick. You have been here over four hours...and what do you do? Do you sit with me? Hold my hand? Even look in my direction? NO! You sit on the end of my bed, ignoring me completely. You tell me you are starving, and insist that we eat Subway, and then you come back with the sandwiches and tell me YOU ARE NOT HUNGRY? And you wait almost exactly when I finish my sandwich to go get yours. Are you a NUT CASE? I think you are. I am tired of you not listening to me, not even caring about my feelings. Do you really think anyone cares about how sad you are all the time? Do you even know what my middle name is? I bet you don't you self centered asshole. Oh, yes...and you don't like me cussing? Well go fuck yourself, you fucking douche bag...I will say anything I fucking like, you god-damned mother fucker. I think it is time for you to go...get your shit and get out." He said "I don't think this has to do with me...something else is triggering this. You are way too angry for this to be about me." I just looked at him for a moment and said "Don't pull your psycho-babble bullshit on me. I don't have an anger problem...I have a Michael problem. And this problem will be solved in about five minutes." He didn't seem like he was listening, still, so I started to grab his backpack...when he finally understood. And he grabbed his stuff (or most of it) and headed for the door.
Nick, my roommate, who heard the commotion, was standing in his open door when we walked out of my room. I really appreciated his big, male presence. He was, however, smiling when he left. Nick never did like Michael.
After I made sure Michael was gone for good, I re-entered the apartment. Nick was waiting for me with shot glasses and Bubble liquour. "We need to toast Michael's departure" he said.
What a great roomie! I am a lucky girl.
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