Ho, ho, ho.

I feel like a whore. And, according to my ex, I kind of am. And I can't even argue with him because I've been sleeping with another guy. I feel like I'm cheating on my ex with this other guy. But I've already been through this in a previous post.

Moving on. Friday evening W and I hung out again. Which obviously means that we had sex again. And it was different this time. The first time was (for him, of course, since I was empty) purely physical. The second time felt different. Then, on Saturday, I had some errands to run. Some shopping and I had to go to work to make sure that I hadn't left the hot glue gun on. (Visions of the building burned to the ground were etched in my head.) Anyway, I wanted some company, so I called W to go with me. He had texted me that morning and said he had something important to talk to me about. I asked him what he needed to talk to me about. He said he wanted to do it face to face. So we're riding to work and I asked him what he wanted to talk to me about. He said he just wanted me to know I was a good person and he cared about me and wanted to cheer me up. I was like, "okay."

This is a long story for not even getting to the point yet. We went out to lunch after I finished at work. It was nice sitting around and chatting. We talked about sex and how the sex the night before was good. Afterwards, we go back to his apartment. We sit around talking. He mentioned then that, if he wasn't talking to some other girl or trying to talk to some other girl, that he would see where we would go. As in relationship-wise. I'm like, "um... We're just friends."  So we're talking and he looks at me and asks me to kiss him. I say, "No. We can have sex, but we can't kiss.. We just can't." Probably because I've seen Pretty Woman many times and it was her rule in the movie. We talk some more and he starts telling me about his past and some painful memories. We're lying on the bed together, cuddling. We're talking abbout trust and how we trust each other. We're moving closer and closer. And, God dammit, something in me wants to kiss him. So I move to kiss him and he rejcts me. I ask him why. He says because when he went to kiss me before I didn't want to. I tell him to just kiss me. And he does.

That was a long paragraph. So we're kissing and he tells me that the night before he put emotions (which was forbidden) into the sex. I said I did, too. We lie around and kiss and stuff. Then, of course, we have sex again. And it was good. Really good. Really really good.

There's more to this story, but I'm tired. To be continued.

FURB

Well, I guess there's nothing like a breakup to kick a girl into blogging overdrive. Two blog posts in a week, wow. All in all, I'm doing okay. I'm not crying as much as I was. Only problem besides missing my ex so intently I could yell is the hookup guy is still texting and calling, wanting more. Ugh.

So back in the day, I used to write all the time. Nothing good, just strictly teen emotional poetry. I loved it. But since I've become an "adult" I've stopped writing. I guess another perk of heartbreak is it's fuel for my writing. I'm getting all my angst and heartache down on paper. Or, in this case, really bad parody of a probably awful song.

So I'm sure you're wondering what the song is. It's "Fuck It (I Don't Want You Back) by Eamon. It's a song full of "fuck you" and anger. I actually prefer the mashup of Eamon's "Fuck It" and the response "Fuck You Right Back (FURB)" by Frankee. Below is my lyrics (I basically kept the same chorus, cause it fit my situation) and a link to the mashup. Enjoy :)

Eamon/Frankee "Fuck It/FURB" mashup

My lyrics:
No no no
See I don't know why
I loved you so bad
Even when
You were mad
I told you I wanted
To be with you forever
I thought I knew you better
I wanted to let you know
(How) I feel

Fuck what I said
It don't mean shit now
Fuck the presents
Might as well throw them out
Fuck all those kisses
They didn't mean jack
Fuck you, you prick
I don't want you back

Fuck what I said
It don't mean shit now
Fuck the presents
Might as well throw them out
Fuck all those kisses
They didn't mean jack
Fuck you, you prick
I don't want you back

You thought you could
Lie right to my face
You mean ass, you're a disgrace
You told me, that you'd always love me
Now you're takin it all back
Your ass is so whack, look elsehwere
Cause you're done with me

Fuck what I said
It don't mean shit now
Fuck the presents
Might as well throw them out
Fuck all the kisses
They didn't mean jack
Fuck you, you prick
I don't want you back

Fuck what I said
It don't mean shit now
Fuck the presents
Might as well throw them out
Fuck all the kisses
They didn't mean jack
Fuck you, you prick
I don't want you back

You always
Called me a pussy
You always told me
I was too emotionally crazy
Now it's over, and I guess that I am sad
It hurts real bad, but I can't sweat that
Cause I loved the prick

Fuck what I said
It don't mean shit now
Fuck the presents
Might as well throw them out
Fuck all the kisses
They didn't mean jack
Fuck you, you prick
I don't want you back

Happy ho-lidays.

Once again, I suck at blogging. Pretty much the only time I remember to do it is when something is bothering me or I'm elated. At the moment, though, I'm pretty numb. And empty.

Let me just preface this by saying, there is no happy ending. And there never will be. I look at my friends and how happy they are and how easy it is for them to be in relationships. For me, it's not like that. It's hard for me to even just be happy. Over the last couple of months however, being happy has been nearly impossible.

My boyfriend and I were together for almost 3 years. The first year and a half was amazing. He was simply the greatest guy ever and we were very much in love. During this time, though, he moves away. Then, last October, he started doubting how he felt. So we broke up for a time. Then, after he realized he was still in love with me, we got back together and our relationship was back on track.

This is when the wedding planning began. And it was good. We were happy. Then I visited him. And he apparently decided then that I was too emotional for him to be with. So we broke up again. But still talked every day and emailed and texted and didn't date other people. Not a good breakup because I still had hopes. And he knew that.

Fast forward to Thanksgiving 2011. He and I are talking and he tells me he's still in love with me and wants to be with me. Awesome, right? So things are good. He mentions he needs help with some schoolwork (he's in school to be a teacher) so I help him out. I do 2 powerpoint presentations for him. He tells me I'm a saint and he's so in love with me for helping him and I'm just awesome. We start discussing this upcoming summer and the visiting arrangements. We decide I'll fly out to visit him for a few weeks, then we'll drive back together and he'll stay with me for a week or so. On this past Sunday, I give him his final powerpoint. He's over the moon with how awesome it is and how he knows he'll get a good grade on it and thank you so much for helping and I love you so much.

We talk again about 5 hours later. And his voice is completely different. I mention something about our relationship. He asks if that's what we're in. I reply that I thought so. He then proceeds to tell me that he's not in love with me. And I'm taken aback.  Our previous conversations said something completely different. So either he's lying now or he's been lying to me before to get something... His powerpoints.

I call him out on it and he doesn't deny it. He said he still wants to be friends and I tell him no. It's not going to happen. I hang up. The next day he emails me saying we should calm down to talk rationally. I say there's nothing to talk about I'm moving on and not going to talk to him anymore because it hurts too much.

When he calls me that night, I don't answer. He keeps calling. Finally, I answer to tell him we're not going to be friends and we're not going to talk. It's over.

Obviously, I'm upset. Even though I'm the one who decided to move on and let him go, I'm upset. So I decide to go last night to a friend's house. W and I talk about things and he's very nice. He lets me cry and scream and hugs me and tells me things will be okay. And it's nice. He then offers me more than just hugs. And I take it. I don't know why. I'm lying on his roommate's bed with no sheets, in a purple and white room with the lights off having sex. And all I'm thinking about is the Twilight: Breaking Dawn movie I saw on Saturday. I feel nothing. I'm numb. When it's over, I get up, put on my jeans and my bra. I stuff one of my shirts into my purse and the other is button sluttily low. I grab my stuff and slink out the back door. I get in my car and all I can think is how it feels as if I cheated on my ex. I know I didn't. I know in my head we're not together, so what I did was perfectly justified. But I can't convince my heart.

I get home and put on my pjs. I'm empty and numb. I can't cry. I decide this will be a good time to pack up all the stuff he's given me. I turn on my favorite TV show, Gilmore Girls. I take a box and start with the pictures of us. Then the stuff I bought in Vegas with him. And the jewelry he gave me. Then he calls. And calls.

I call him back, I don't know why. He starts talking to me like it's a normal day and he didn't break my heart. I tell him I'm over it and I'm tired of everything. I tell him I am not talking to him anymore. He finally gets it, because he gets mad and says, "Okay, fine. I'm done." I say, "No. I'm done." And it's over.

I lay down on the bed and drift to sleep to the Gilmore Girls dvd (Season 4, a good season.) I wake up and turn the TV off. I turn off the lamp and go back to sleep. But sleep doesn't last long. It's a fitful night of sleep. I toss and turn, and turn and toss. I think of W and having sex. I think of my ex and how I wish he cared. I think of the daunting task of moving on. I think of having to tell people that we're no longer together. I think of how his Christmas gift is still being shipped to me so I could send it to him. I'm alone. I'm a loser. I'm a slut. I'm alone. And God, at this moment, I deserve it.

Stuff happens for a reason.

Yup, I suck at blogging. I don't even remember the last time I blogged. I should really make it a priority. It's just... not.

So, since the last time I blogged, a lot has happened. I went to visit my boyfriend in June. Things went, not so well. I don't even want to rehash the drama of the trip at this time. Suffice it to say it was not shocking to either of us that a week after I got home we broke up.

Of course, we're pretty much back together now. We still talk every day and email and whatnot. I'm still planning on moving to where he lives. But the wedding plans are officially on hold. Which is fine, I suppose. I had invested a lot of time and money into our plans, but it's okay. I'd much rather have him in my life, then not because of a wedding.

The one good thing about the trip was meeting someone who has fast become one of my best friends. Let me preface this:

When I decided to go visit my boyfriend, I made a decision. Since I work as a teacher I had the whole summer off. Spending the entire summer with him was not an option (thank God I didn't!). I've always wanted to travel across the country. (I live in VA, him in NV.) So, somehow, I got it in my head that instead of flying (which I totally SHOULD have done) I'd take the bus.

I'm young, I had the time to do it, it was cheap. So that's what I did. Overall, taking the bus across country sucked. There were three good things about it. One; the scenery. I swear, this country is beautiful. Going across the green grass of Tennessee and Arkansas and the Mississippi River was great. The flat land of Oklahoma was pretty. And the desert and rocks of the west (New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada) was breathtaking. Number two... Honestly, now that I'm thinking, I can't remember what my number two thing was. So, onto number three. I met the most amazing guy on the bus.

Most of the people on the bus were weird. But this guy, G, was great. We spent 2 days on the bus together. From Las Vegas to TN. It was great. We became facebook friends and text each other multiple times a day. It's great because I can tell him about my boy troubles and, in turn, he tells me about his boy troubles. It's awesome.

Sick.

Okay, people. I've been sick. Like majorly sick. Like gross, missing days and days of work sick.

So. Story. Well, a few weeks ago my tooth randomly started hurting. So I took some tylenol  and started using Sensodyne toothpaste and the pain went away. I thought no more of it. Then last week, the pain came back with a vengeance. I started maxing out my tylenol every 6 4 hours. So I make a dentist appointment and figure I can wait til then. Then, one night after work and baby-sitting, I got home. My tooth was hurting like hell, so I took some tylenol and an ambien sleeping pill. It was 9 PM. Three hours later, I was still awake. And still. In. Pain. So, being stupid, I took 2 tylenol PMs. Still in pain. So around 2 AM I decide I have to do something about this unbearable pain. So I go to the emergency room.

At the ER, the nurse tells me I should have come in as soon as it started hurting since tooth pain is one of the worst pains to deal with. I'm crying really hard and saying, "I agree. It sucks." She tells me to call someone to pick me up, since I'm not going to be able to drive. So I wait to see the doctor. He's super nice and tells me to call my dentist, which I'd already done. So he gives me 2 prescriptions. One for penicillin and one, hello!, for percocet. Percocet is the best stuff ever. I was definitely feeling no pain after taking that shit.

Unfortunately, percocet makes me dizzy and sleepy. So I couldn't work the next day. So I slept and chilled and slept some more. Gross.

I thought I was feeling better this past weekend and on Monday. Then, yesterday, I woke up and started getting ready for work. Then, after taking my penicillin, I felt nauseous. (Let me just take this oppurtunity to say penicillin is the nastiest smelling and tasting shit ever. It's disgusting.) Needless to say, both of the medicines had caught up with me. I spent the day sick. So another work day gone. Grrrr.

I woke up this morning feeling better. So I started getting ready and then found out we had a 2 hour delay. Sweet. I laid back down and went to sleep for another hour. I woke up and decided to straighten my hair, as I do daily. I usually straighten it while wet, but it was dry today. So I turn the straightener on and wait for it to heat up. I straighten half my hair, then put the straightener down to get ready to straighten the other half. When I go to pick it up again, I accidentally pick it up by the hot part. And I proceed to burn the hell out of my thumb and index finger. I throw the straightener down (oops) and run to the sink to put my fingers under cool water. All I have to say is thank God for first aid training. It definitely came in handy. So I've got my 2 fingers bandaged up because the blisters ain't pretty.

I feel like I'm falling apart. I'm in my 20s. This isn't supposed to happen yet! I've still got time! I'm counting down the days til my dentist appointment. It's in 6 days. Can't wait.

Wedding deets.

I mentioned last time I blogged (I suck at that, btw) that I was gonna discuss my wedding plans and such. I'm still working out some most of them, but I love talking about what I've gots going on so far.

Okay. So location- done. My insanely small town. At the gazebo, next to the river. It's pretty. Reception will be at the park next to the river. Done and done.

Wedding party- done. My bestie is going to be my matron of honor. My fiance's dad will be his best man. That's all we're having. Simple.

Dresses- so completely NOT done. I don't even want to think about wedding dresses anymore. If Old Navy made a wedding dress, I'd be super psyched. Alas, they don't and so I am screwed.

Remember, people, I'm a big girl with big girl curves. So these tiny sample wedding dresses aren't happening. I hate when I go to wedding boutiques and they give me attitude for not being a size 2. I swear I'm just going to make my own dress. Nevermind that I've never sewn before. I'm going to do it. It's a simple wedding, I just need a simple dress. Not so hard.

I did, in my attempts at trying on wedding dresses, discover that I am obsessed with veils. Long veils, short veils, catherdral length veils, I love them all. I can't wait to wear my veil on my wedding day. Now if only dress shopping was as easy as veil shoppping....

You know what else makes me sick? Well, not really sick. My bestie, who's been my bestie for 20 years, could be a freaking supermodel. You know, if they had supermodels who were 5'3. I made her try on dresses one day (after I broke down crying while dress shopping... Story later.) and they looked phenomenal on her. It's not fair! I'm the bride. I should look better. Oh well.

Ok. So story about crying while wedding dress shopping. I'm sure it's not uncommon. I didn't cry because of the dresses or anything. It was the first boutique my bestie and I went to. The first time I looked at dresses in person instead of online. And the salesladies (yes, ladies... I was so important there were 2 salesladies) were putting the pressure on me to find a dress. Just find a dress. And my friend was pressuring me to just try on a dress. And I was thinking about how big this is, getting married. And how my entire life is going to change. Not just my name, but everything. Because once we're hitched, I'm moving 3000 miles across the country to be with him. And I started crying. It sucked.

Yes, peoples. That's right. I'm planning this wedding wih my fiance 3000 miles away. So pretty much the bestie is helping me. And I'm also planning a trip to visit my fiance AND trying to start organizing things to move across the country. On top of work and all that. Luckily, there are only 28 school days left til my summer vacay. I love being a teacher and getting summers off.

I'm all over the place tonight. I'm gonna stop before I scare someone.

Baby fever.

I've got the baby fever. And it's a pretty bad case, too. There I was, minding my own business in Target, when all of a sudden I walk by the baby stuff. And BAM! that's all I can think about. Babies and baby names and baby clothes and diapers and bottles and etc.

This is not good. First of all, I'm in the middle of planning my wedding. I don't necessarily need to be thinking about getting knocked up right now. My fiance and I have an agreement to wait til after the wedding. Unfortunately. Because, at the moment, I'd much rather have a baby than get married. It's funny how priorities can change overnight.

So many people around are getting pregnant. One of my friends is pregnant with her 4th. Color me jealous. Everytime I log onto facebook it seems like another friend is saying she's pregnant. Or that his wife/girlfriend/random chick is pregnant. And I'm happy for them, but also intensely jealous. I know what I want.

I'm glad that my fiance is supportive of this and doesn't think I'm crazy. Like I said, we have an agreement to wait to have kids. But he talks about baby names with me all the time and what the nursery will look like and everything. I'm glad he indulges me. It makes me happy. Now, if I was only knocked up, then I'd be ecstatic....



PS- Next entry will involve wedding plans and the dreaded trying on wedding dresses. :)

Wedding plans

I'm planning my wedding. This, in itself, is a great thing. I'm completely and totally in love with my fiance. He's truly my soulmate. And I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with him. But wedding planning is stressful.

First of all, it's my wedding. Well, and my fiance's. But I'm pretty much planning by myself. So we (I) picked the colors red and purple for the wedding. I think they are beautiful together. (Probably seen One Tree Hill too many times.) Problem is, my mom hates those colors. She loathes them. But it's my wedding. So they stay.

Second problem, wedding dresses. I'm a big woman. And most big woman wedding dresses aren't cute. And the ones that are cost a ton of money. Our wedding won't be big. We don't want to spend a lot of money. So I'm not wanting to spend $1000 on a dress I'll wear once.

Third issue, location. At this moment, my fiance and I are living on different sides of the country. He'd like to get married on the west coast. I'd rather be married where I live. All my family and friends are here. Plus, his family lives here. So it makes sense, right? My fiance would rather just go to Vegas and get married in a chapel there, just the two of us.

Honestly, I'm not completely adverse to that option. But I'd like to come back to my state and have a reception with our friends and family. He's okay with that. But he wants to get married in Vegas, go on a honeymoon, then have the small (really, really small) gathering of family.

Another issue is family. His family is small. Just his parents, aunt, uncle, cousin, grandfather, and great-uncle. My family is huge. On just my dad's side, there's 6 aunts/uncles and 20 cousins. Plus my grandmother. And that's just my dad's side. Plus my other "family." My bff and I have been friends for 20 years. And her family has pretty much been my second family. Her mom is my other mom and her sister is like my sister. So I'd want to invite them, obviously. So that would be another 14 (at the most) people. And then people from work. Are they invited? I work with not that many people. (I work in a very small school.) It's 4 other people. And I ♥ the girls I work with. So are they invited? For me, I'd like to invited probably 60 people. Then whoever he wants to invite.

It's so many decisions. I don't know what to do. I'm sure everything will work out. At least I've got the colors, the bridal party (just my bff as matron of honor and his dad (awww!) as best man), the cake, the food (hello, people in my families that can cook!), and the bridesmaid dress picked out.

I guess I just take it one day at a time and don't get too stressed. Wedding 2012, here I come!

Creative sensations.

Omg. I love my job. I love it. I don't know what I would be doing if I couldn't work with kids. Even better, I love that I get the luxury of working with different ages; from pre-k to 7th grade. And I love that it's a smaller school.

Every month at work we have different themes. So all our art projects and activities involve whatever it is. (Ex: Medieval, Dinosaurs, Going Green, International.) Since today is February 1st, we started our new theme, Creative Sensations. So this month we're going all out with art. I love the art thing. I think it's great. I was all psyched for it. Until we started today's project.

The kids love painting. I honestly hate them using paint. They get it everywhere. I mean, it's okay to be messy. But when they wind up with paint on the floors, on the chairs, on the windows, and on the rug (really?) it's a whole different story. But today we painted. The art project was really fun and they had a great time doing it. I love when they all really get into their activities. It makes it a lot more enjoyable.

The whole thing today was called "Blotto." It's pretty much taking paint and putting it on the paper and folding the paper to make different designs. So. Much. Fun. I swear the kids made 5-10 pictures each. They're currently lying all over the floor, awaiting their time to be hung up.

Cleanup was a disaster, though. Two of us were cleaning and it took almost an hour to get all the paint up. It was worth it, though. The whole building smelled like tempera paint. It was nice. I like the smell. (SN: Cleaning paintbrushes sucks.)

So after work I had a couple of errands to run. I stopped at the grocery store and then went to the library. I noticed people were looking at me strangely. When I got home, I looked in the mirror, I saw what people were looking at. I had paint on my shirt, my pants, in my hair, and on my face. (Later, after removing my jacket, I noticed paint on my arms.) And, on top of the paint splatters, I had a gnarly looking black eye. Because I got hit in the eye with a basketball earlier in the day. Awesome.

1/31/11

This isn't my first foray into blogging. I've actually been blogging (though it wasn't called blogging yet) since 2002. My old blog is now defunct. I guess it was too much pressure to have all my friends reading what I was writing. This time I prefer to remain anonymous.

I just finished reading a book called Miss Invisible by Laura Jensen Walker tonight. It gave me the idea to start this blog. In fact, the reading group questions in the back gave me the itch to start this blog. The book was about a larger woman trying to fit in in a look-obsessed world. She struggles with her image and finding a man who loves her for who she is and not what she looks like.

I totally get that. I'm a larger woman. I don't like saying the word "fat." In fact, I hate it. The thing is, even though I am a larger woman, it doesn't bother me. I guess I'm fortunate, though. I'm young (mid 20s) and I have struggled with body image in the past. I always compared myself to my best friend, T. I mean, she was a size 3/5. How the hell was I going to compete with that? I spent many nights crying when the guy I liked decided he liked her better. It sucked.

The thing is, I'm not supposed to be a small woman. And I've accepted it. I've got big bones and curves. Is that bad? I don't think so. I'm me, stretch marks and curves and largness and all. It's just who I am. And I'm fine with that.

Luckily, I've found a man who does love me for who I am. He's helped me realize that I am beautiful. He tells me all the time that I'm cute and beautiful and (my favorite) lovely. He even tells me I'm sexy.

So, to all you chicks out there who are bigger than a size 14, I say you are beautiful.